Killer Eye: Halloween Haunt (2011)
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Starring Erica Rhodes, Olivia Alexander, Chelsea Edmundson, Ariana Madix, Lauren Furs
Directed by Charles Band
Killer Eye: Halloween Haunt is the second new Full Moon sequel I’ve seen in the past week, and it is the opposite of Gingerdeadman 3: Saturday Night Cleaver in that the makers of that sequel were actually trying to make an enjoyable movie. Hell, they were actually trying to make an actual movie, which is more than can be said for whatever the hell this is.
For those of you lucky enough to have avoided it, The Killer Eye was an atrocious 1999 T&A horror comedy about a horny eyeball monster from another dimension looking to mate with human women. I saw it back when it first came out on home video, and to this day my only recollections of it are threefold: a cool looking Creeping Terror-ish eyeball monster that I wished hadn’t been wasted on such a lousy film, Jacqueline Lovell was a very attractive young woman even when fully clothed, and, as I already stated, it was a-tro-cious.
Hard as it is for me to believe this, the first Killer Eye may have been a whole lot of nothing; yet, its nothingness still had more of a sense of purpose behind it than this witless, frightless, pointless meta-sequel. There’s barely a movie this time around, and what little story there adds up to bunk, can’t be bothered to play by its own barely there logic, and doesn’t have any fun about it. Even as a flimsy excuse for some T&A, it doesn’t deliver that much T and even less A.
Killer Eye: Halloween Haunt is only 70 minutes long. Doing the math, the opening and closing credits eat up about 10 of those minutes; if you factor in the amount of screen time devoted to merely padding the film out by replaying full scenes from the first Killer Eye, I’d reckon there’s only about 45 minutes of actual new movie footage.
Four attractive young ladies have gathered to help decorate the Halloween haunted house belonging to one of the girl’s moms. The blonde girl whose mom owns the house has that sweet, prim, girl-next-door quality. Her friends include a pot-smoking lesbian blonde who keeps making comments about wanting to have sex with the sweet girl, a slutty blonde who motorboats a crystal ball, and the brunette who somehow manages to be the only that gets through the entire film without doing a nude scene. Another brunette with the personality of a “Jersey Shore” cast member they can’t stand will later crash the party to first blow her top and then pop her top.
Mom’s prize possession is a crystal ball that her daughter claims mom treats almost as if it were a living thing. It does appear to be alive in some form. I think. Sorta. Kinda. Maybe. Something like that.
They decide to have a bad movie night by watching a copy of The Killer Eye that comes packaged in the box for a Killer Eye prop from the FullMoonDirect.com warehouse no doubt. We’re treated to several unfunny minutes of them riffing on how bad that movie was. Rifftrax has nothing to worry about from these ladies.
Best I figure, and with this movie you pretty much have to draw your own conclusions as to why anything happens from this point on, whatever supernatural force lurks within the crystal ball decides to bring the Killer Eye model to life in order to procreate with the women like the giant eyeball wanted to in the first movie. I think. I can’t say for certain because the Killer Eye also has a bad habit of killing them before it has a chance to mate. It could just be that there was one in particular it wanted to mate with and that’s why it zapped the others with its eye beam to make them take their tops off and dance around or get all lesbo on each other before psychically exploding their heads and what not. Who the fuck knows?
When the movie ended… Well, umm, it just ended. Most movies end with a resolution of the story. This movie simply has a stopping point. When the end credits began to roll, I actually had to back it up a few moments just to make sure that was the actual ending and to see if I hadn’t blacked out, fallen asleep, had an out-of-body experience, entered a hypnotic state that caused me to walk around the living room in my underwear slowly caressing my half-naked torso, something, anything that might make some sense.
It should have ended with a cut to the Full Moon logo so that Charles Band could pop out of the moon waving a fistful of cash while declaring in his best Porky Pig voice “Th-th-th-that’s all, suckers!”
1 out of 5
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