Baby Jeffrey Combs!
By no means a great, or even a good film, this sardonic, loony little pseudo slasher is like the dog Jules Winfield referred to in Pulp Fiction. "A dog's got personality. Personality goes a long way." And that's what this film has rather than many memorable characters or logic. Until it devolves into a standard stalk 'n kill, there's devilish charm aplenty, mostly from a superb Ferdy Mayne, done up to resemble Christopher Lee, who ironically appears in a clip which the film tries to convince us IS Ferdy Mayne. You got all that?
It begins quite well and the alternate title in the UK of "Body Snatchers" is apt. A horror film society does indeed abscond with the freshly interred corpse of a horror legend and although necrophilia does appear to hover just beyond the proceedings, things still do get pretty macabre.
Writer/Director Norman Thaddeus Vane seems to be trying to tap into the youth market/horror boom of the early 80's but fails to create a memorable group of college gorehounds, though the future Dr. Herbert West can't help but be watchable. It barely makes sense, there's a useless subplot involving the police, but Mayne's silky, theatrical flourishes keep the film afloat.
Also, if you've ever seen Clifford...remember that part about the face lift? That's pretty much the face Mayne makes while eliminating the amateur grave robbers.
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