I'm sorry, but it's just so hard to take this seriously from the outset when the whole concept revolves around something called "The Chooper." Remember the 'Invader Zim' episode where The Tallest are confronted with a resistance group whose awe-inspiring name to strike fear into the hearts of their enemies instead inspires pure mockery?
In fairness, there's no mistaking that filmmaker Ray Dennis Steckler knew he was making low-grade schlock, and this never pretends to be anything it's not. Yet sometimes it's hard to fathom the reasoning for making such title; everything about this immediately comes off as both garishly over the top and direly weak, and wholly unbelievable. The best of the music is swell and dramatic in and of itself but overcooked in how it's used; the worst of the music is limpid or just plain sardonic. The dialogue and scene writing are wildly inauthentic and raise a deeply skeptical eyebrow - and let's be honest, are often just plain bad - and so much of the material that pads out the length is altogether bewildering. (Here's another point of reference: remember the teens making out in 'Manos: The hands of fate?') There is a story here, but it's thin; Steckler's direction comes across as soft and unpracticed. There's only so much the cast can do under all these circumstances, but bless them for trying.
Voiceover narration; curious, superfluous, and not insignificant inclusion of children; lengthy, tiresome, and flimsily tethered rodeo sequences; recycled footage and astoundingly repetitive dialogue; abrupt and unconvincing appearances by "The Chooper" - so many odd, peculiar choices were made here. The very notion of "protagonist" Carol inheriting the "ranch" is perplexing in light of the vast nothingness of it, and in light of how she apparently does nothing at all. 'Blood shack' is really just rather flummoxing. The root ideas are workable, perhaps, but it's almost as if Steckler was actively endeavoring to veer away from the earnest horror flick this might have been to twist it into pure, confounding goofiness. If anything at all in these sixty minutes comes off well I suppose one might point to the stunts and practical effects, but it's safe to say that these alone can't carry even a movie as small as this. What was anyone thinking? In what manner could this possibly be said to be fun?
Nevermind horror - cinema at large scarcely gets more insubstantial and feeble than this. It does, yes, but the distinction is meaningless. Whatever it is one might hope to get out of this 1971 flick, by Jove, you won't find it here. One's time is better spent doing just about anything else at all, and my firm recommendation is to stay well away from 'Blood shack.'
In fairness, there's no mistaking that filmmaker Ray Dennis Steckler knew he was making low-grade schlock, and this never pretends to be anything it's not. Yet sometimes it's hard to fathom the reasoning for making such title; everything about this immediately comes off as both garishly over the top and direly weak, and wholly unbelievable. The best of the music is swell and dramatic in and of itself but overcooked in how it's used; the worst of the music is limpid or just plain sardonic. The dialogue and scene writing are wildly inauthentic and raise a deeply skeptical eyebrow - and let's be honest, are often just plain bad - and so much of the material that pads out the length is altogether bewildering. (Here's another point of reference: remember the teens making out in 'Manos: The hands of fate?') There is a story here, but it's thin; Steckler's direction comes across as soft and unpracticed. There's only so much the cast can do under all these circumstances, but bless them for trying.
Voiceover narration; curious, superfluous, and not insignificant inclusion of children; lengthy, tiresome, and flimsily tethered rodeo sequences; recycled footage and astoundingly repetitive dialogue; abrupt and unconvincing appearances by "The Chooper" - so many odd, peculiar choices were made here. The very notion of "protagonist" Carol inheriting the "ranch" is perplexing in light of the vast nothingness of it, and in light of how she apparently does nothing at all. 'Blood shack' is really just rather flummoxing. The root ideas are workable, perhaps, but it's almost as if Steckler was actively endeavoring to veer away from the earnest horror flick this might have been to twist it into pure, confounding goofiness. If anything at all in these sixty minutes comes off well I suppose one might point to the stunts and practical effects, but it's safe to say that these alone can't carry even a movie as small as this. What was anyone thinking? In what manner could this possibly be said to be fun?
Nevermind horror - cinema at large scarcely gets more insubstantial and feeble than this. It does, yes, but the distinction is meaningless. Whatever it is one might hope to get out of this 1971 flick, by Jove, you won't find it here. One's time is better spent doing just about anything else at all, and my firm recommendation is to stay well away from 'Blood shack.'