A group of young people on a camping trip pass a cemetery that holds the spirit of a 1950s serial killer. One girl, aware of the superstition my girlfriend also abides by, warns the group to hold their breath (see there?) as they cross the cemetery, but one (the stoner, naturally) doesn't, and is soon possessed by the unhappy eye-seeking spirit.
My first movie of the new year from production company The Asylum offers up pretty much everything you expect from them--poor acting, a laughable script, horrendous CGI--you get the picture. But challenge yourself to look beyond the obvious horrible and you will land firmly on the level of ineptness that makes this film so enjoyable--the continuity (or lack thereof). The film is set in Florida, but anybody who has spent any time in Florida (or has the misfortune of living here) will know right off the bat this ain't no Flor-da picture. Mountains? At most, Florida has a few hills. The rocky desert terrain? Not in Florida! We're not even going to mention the license plates. Want more hilarity? See what the killer does with connections to car batteries. How about a girl getting her head bashed in on a steering wheel spitting up blood but having not a single cut, or even bruise, or her head? Want to see perhaps the worst Ahab in horror film history?