"That's what the plastic's for asshole!"
Wow. Just another B Grade 80's horror flick which includes:
A - The bad punk 80's dude who don't give a fuck about the law, rides a motor bike, wears the leather jacket and gets the skanky, yet hot, chick.B - Nerdy bloke who is way too easy to manipulate.
C - Punk kids who have always picked on the nerdy kid and now are getting their come-up-ense.
Ok, so the opening line in this review is misleading.... slightly. While yes, it is another 80's horror flick, the scary shit is when the Satan looking bloke gets his shit on. I don't get scared very often (see Insidious and Amityville Horror), this bloke is one of the feakiest, creepy blokes out there. Not that he scared me, but just looking at him make me freak. Just like looking at a "Colonel Troutman" shit in the toilet and thinking "Did I just produce that? - I think I need to see an exorcist". And another thing on calling a multicoloured, camouflage shit a "Colonel Troutman"; The word Colonel has the word "Colon" in it! I just saw that. Amazing.
Anyways, the basis of the movie is you ring up this mystic type hotline and you become possessed. Then you go out and fuck some shit up.
Regardless, I enjoyed it as bad as the 80's acting is. No boob though. Don't they understand that it reduces the B-Movie Cheese score? Sure it was made in 1988, 22 years before this website but for fucks sake, MORE BOOB.
Fucking amatuers.
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