Described by the director as "Jaws on
land", this is one of those films which you have to respect, even though
it's almost unlikeable. Spinell is the titular killer, scarred by an
abusive mother (the film dates from back before such things were
psychologically fashionable), now wreaking revenge with shotgun, garrotte
and very sharp knife. It's all very depressingly grim, and his
relationship with photographer Munro doesn't really ring true.
However, the violence is pretty convincing stuff, not least, Tom Savini's head getting
blown off, and Lustig knows its strengths are the grubby atmosphere and a
very plausible psycho in the late Spinell. Not pretty and not fun - neither
is murder - yet a near-textbook example of how to make and market a film
when you've got almost no money. Obscure trivia: the helicopter shots are
offcuts from Inferno, and Caroline Munro's role almost went to Dario
Argento's wife.
C+
