Hey, you ever have one of those nights when you couldn't decide if you wanted to see either a terminally brainless T&A laden "Porky's" on the beach sex'n'booze lowbrow comedy or a comparably vacuous seaside mystery horror slasher pic? Well, you can actually see 'em both in one gloriously junky 90 minute sitting thanks to this crackerjack handy-dandy combo hybrid of the above-cited sub-genres. An enigmatic psycho biker dude whose face is obscured by a dark visor electrocutes a sizable volume of fun-loving, hooch-sodden, hormone-crazed hedonistic collegiate chowderheads partying their sun-tanned butts off during Easter vacation in Miami Beach, Florida. The murders totally baffle the local cops, who in time-honored B-pic tradition wish to keep the whole thing hush-hush so the resort town can still milk mucho money from the addle-pated twenty-something tourists. So, it's up to the token serious, self-disciplined nice college guy (amiable Nicholas De Toth, who makes for a refreshingly earnest and unmacho reluctant protagonist) and a sweet barmaid gal (winningly played by the incredibly cute ultra-honey Sarah Buxton) to find out who the true culprit is on their own.
Done with the right amount of energy and competence to qualify as a perfectly acceptable and enjoyable serving of "screw intelligence and just give me the lowdown trashy horror exploitation flick goods" Saturday night schlock, this engagingly drecky beaut proves to be a whole lot of top-notch dopey fun. Director Umberto Lenzi, working from a slim, yet serviceable script by Larry Kirkpatrick (who also wrote the equally dumb, but satisfying "Primal Rage" for Lenzi), keeps the proceedings lively and eventful by tossing in a rowdy gang of hog-ridin' hellions called the Demons (!), a bunch of thrashing' heavy metal tunes roaring' away on the soundtrack (the theme song "Don't Break My Heart" by Kristen really smokes), a few wet t-shirt contests, several grisly murder set pieces (Alessandro Rambaldi did the great, gruesome gore f/x), a throbbing' rock score by Goblin's Claidio Simonetti, crude condom gags, plenty of attractive babes in skimpy bikinis, a "Jaws"-style "let's keep this homicide stuff quiet 'cause it's bad for business" cover-up conspiracy sub-plot, more idiotic horny toad college revelers than you can shake an empty beer can at, and even a little gratuitous female nudity. The stand-out supporting cast adds greatly to the overall sleazy merriment: John Saxon lends his usual sturdy, hard-nosed, imposing presence as a mean, hectoring, buzz-crushing police captain with a kinky S&M bondage fetish for chains, leather and dog collars, Lance LeGault gruffs it up nicely as a stern hell-and-brimstone preacher, and Michael Parks makes the most out of a miner part as a fidgety, alcoholic coroner. Okay, it sure ain't no work of immaculate art, but "Welcome to Spring Break" definitely does the trick as a pleasingly upfront and undemanding timewaster.
Done with the right amount of energy and competence to qualify as a perfectly acceptable and enjoyable serving of "screw intelligence and just give me the lowdown trashy horror exploitation flick goods" Saturday night schlock, this engagingly drecky beaut proves to be a whole lot of top-notch dopey fun. Director Umberto Lenzi, working from a slim, yet serviceable script by Larry Kirkpatrick (who also wrote the equally dumb, but satisfying "Primal Rage" for Lenzi), keeps the proceedings lively and eventful by tossing in a rowdy gang of hog-ridin' hellions called the Demons (!), a bunch of thrashing' heavy metal tunes roaring' away on the soundtrack (the theme song "Don't Break My Heart" by Kristen really smokes), a few wet t-shirt contests, several grisly murder set pieces (Alessandro Rambaldi did the great, gruesome gore f/x), a throbbing' rock score by Goblin's Claidio Simonetti, crude condom gags, plenty of attractive babes in skimpy bikinis, a "Jaws"-style "let's keep this homicide stuff quiet 'cause it's bad for business" cover-up conspiracy sub-plot, more idiotic horny toad college revelers than you can shake an empty beer can at, and even a little gratuitous female nudity. The stand-out supporting cast adds greatly to the overall sleazy merriment: John Saxon lends his usual sturdy, hard-nosed, imposing presence as a mean, hectoring, buzz-crushing police captain with a kinky S&M bondage fetish for chains, leather and dog collars, Lance LeGault gruffs it up nicely as a stern hell-and-brimstone preacher, and Michael Parks makes the most out of a miner part as a fidgety, alcoholic coroner. Okay, it sure ain't no work of immaculate art, but "Welcome to Spring Break" definitely does the trick as a pleasingly upfront and undemanding timewaster.