The Slayer

The Slayer

I don’t know.  Some chick with a really bad perm — like, Barbra Streisand circa A Star is Born bad — has dreamt of a monster for so long, that she believes it’s becoming real.  A prolific artist, she also dreams of a house and decides to paint it.  The woman, her film director husband, and their two friends decide to vacation on a remote island (Georgia’s Tybee) and lo!  What does the woman see?  Exactly–the house.

Convinced her dream is finally a reality, and that the monster no longer needs her to live, the woman falls into depression, as her husband and friends push her to forget the dreams and have a good time. Now, if you don’t think the monster is real and slaughters every last one of them, then you clearly haven’t seen enough horror movies.  Indeed, that’s exactly what happens: They all die.  They get slayed. Because the movie is called The Slayer.  Clever enough.

Standard early-80’s exploitation horror, without a hint of originality–or taste, for that matter.  The acting is wooden as ever, and the movie is riddled with juicy dialogue.  One character, as she surveys the island from a plane, exclaims with some conviction, “It’s surrounded by water!” Her husband is delightfully helpful: “Most islands are.”  The monster is seen only once, in close-up, and I have to admit, the effect is pretty damned convincing.  The centerpiece kill, by pitchfork, is legendary in horror circles, though I can’t understand why: Anyone who has seen The Prowler knows what a good pitchfork kill should look like.  Utterly forgettable, and I loved every last minute of it.

[Note: The Slayer has never been released on DVD in the U.S.  If you want to see it, you’ll need to search high and low for a crappy bootleg copy.  You may also find it (*ahem*) on certain sites that show videos for free — sites I wouldn’t dream of mentioning here.]

1982; starring Sarah Kendall, Frederick Flynn; directed by J.S. Cardone; 80 min; R; in English.