976-EVIL (1989)

Poor Hoax (yes, that’s his name) just can’t catch a break. He wishes he could be like his ultra-cool, chopper riding, babe banging cousin Spike, but instead he’s getting nagged at by his overly religious mama and shoved down the school toilets by the local bullies. So, how’s a nerdy outcast like himself supposed to cease such torments? Easy…simply dial “976-EVIL” and receive your “horrorscope” reading…from Old Scratch himself! Find out what day you’ll be lucky in love, when to play the stock market, and, last but not least, when is the opportune time to change into a revenge thirsty demon from hell!! Directed by old razor-fingers himself, Robert Englund, this one is a prime dish for connoisseurs of cheesy late eighties horror. You know, movies that feature sub-par effects with every teenage actor dressing like a punked out member of Duran Duran and, most importantly, lots and lots of neon lighting and dry-ice. Those last two are simply must haves, right along with the plastic, instantly forgettable pop music that accompanies the “action”. But enough of that, what about the movie?

Well, the first half of the movie is fairly decent right up until we arrive at the, well, second half. Logical no? Actor Stephen Geoffrey gives a damn fine and likable performance of mama’s boy Hoax, and the viewer comes to really like the guy, no matter how dweeby he is. Geoffrey and actor Patrick O’Bryan as Spike actually had some decent chemistry going on as the two polar-opposite cousins, and that was nice to see. In a sense the first half is sorta like one of the teenage comedy films one would see during the eighties, and since this is a horror movie, it’s not to great of a sign that when the horror shit starts to hit, the film completely loses track. My main gripe was that the scenes of a possessed Hoax taking his revenge on his tormentors simply did not live up to what they deserved. There were some real assholes in this flick, and it would have been great to see them get their just rewards but, ah, there just wasn’t much of a payoff. The first half’s character buildup is completely lost amidst the second half’s poor f/x, lame subplots, and, you guessed it, lots of neon lighting and dry ice. I also could have gone without the demonic Hoax spitting out Freddy like one-liners, if he would have concentrated more on sadistic revenge and not cracking funnies, things may have turned out all right. Alas, it was not to be.

At best, this one is a timewaster when your girls on her period and you’re to broke to go to the bar. Observant readers may notice I left out another obligation of the eighties horror film, that being the “obligatory tit shot”. Fear not friends, Mr. Englund delivers the goods here via a leggy blond who not only shows us the goods, but my god can that girl work that pelvis! Whew!! Tits or no tits, the movie still sucks.