I can give the people who made this movie credit for one thing. Not for having any talent at acting, writing or directing, but for being honest. This is a bald faced rip off of Assault on Precinct 13. The viewer knows it. The filmmakers know it. The viewer knows the filmmakers know it and the filmmakers know the viewer knows they know, so they didn't pussyfoot around and just called it "The Assault". If every filmmaker was so truthful, there would be a lot of movies out there called either "Star" or "Die".
The story concerns an ass-kicking lady cop named Stacy (Stacie Randall) who's winds up protecting a refreshingly bitchy witness named Lisa (Leslie Ryan) from the drug dealers who killed Lisa's husband. To do that, Stacie drives her car (which appears to be made out of vinyl) to a women's shelter in the woods run by her sister Cindy (Carrie Dobro). We're no sooner clumsily introduced to the collection of stock characters at the shelter (tough chick, black chick, Hispanic chick, crazy chick, etc.) than the drug dealers show up with an army of thugs that come half out of the JC Penny catalog and half out of Michael Jackson's video for "Beat It".
Led by drug kingpin Blade (Rick Dean), the thugs launch wave after wave of mindless attacks on the shelter, only to be mowed down like those metal ducks in a carnival shooting gallery. While that goes on, Stacie flirts with the shelter handyman (Matt McCoy) who turns out to be an ex-marine, most of the stock characters get at least one scene to showcase what you have to be very generous to describe as their "talent", and the shelter dwellers eventually lure the drug gang to its doom by using pretty much the same ruse as the end of that John Carpenter film I mentioned earlier.
This is a solidly terrible production. The performances range from "working actor" to "failed standup comic" to "music video girl" to "skimmed the CliffsNotes edition of Acting For Dummies". The paint-by-numbers script is successful only at filling up space. Director Jim Wynorski appears to have OCD as he not only compulsively intercuts scenes together but obsessively shows characters running down the same long hallway three separate times. The attempts at action are on par with the worst episodes of Walker, Texas Ranger. And despite having a porno-style set up of multiple women trapped inside a house with a single guy, nobody gets naked. This is one of those low budget flicks you've got to have a heavy buzz on to get anything out of it.
When I tell you The Assault ends with a two-minute long countdown to an explosion, you probably know what kind of film it is. I mean, who has a two-minute countdown to anything in a movie? And then that two minutes is stretched out through cinema magic to about 10 or 15 minutes in real time.
If you're one of those folks who believe in Yin and Yang and you end up watching the original Assault on Precinct 13 and need to balance out the universe by seeing a film as bad as that one is good, you might want to rent this piece of crap. No one else needs to bother.
The story concerns an ass-kicking lady cop named Stacy (Stacie Randall) who's winds up protecting a refreshingly bitchy witness named Lisa (Leslie Ryan) from the drug dealers who killed Lisa's husband. To do that, Stacie drives her car (which appears to be made out of vinyl) to a women's shelter in the woods run by her sister Cindy (Carrie Dobro). We're no sooner clumsily introduced to the collection of stock characters at the shelter (tough chick, black chick, Hispanic chick, crazy chick, etc.) than the drug dealers show up with an army of thugs that come half out of the JC Penny catalog and half out of Michael Jackson's video for "Beat It".
Led by drug kingpin Blade (Rick Dean), the thugs launch wave after wave of mindless attacks on the shelter, only to be mowed down like those metal ducks in a carnival shooting gallery. While that goes on, Stacie flirts with the shelter handyman (Matt McCoy) who turns out to be an ex-marine, most of the stock characters get at least one scene to showcase what you have to be very generous to describe as their "talent", and the shelter dwellers eventually lure the drug gang to its doom by using pretty much the same ruse as the end of that John Carpenter film I mentioned earlier.
This is a solidly terrible production. The performances range from "working actor" to "failed standup comic" to "music video girl" to "skimmed the CliffsNotes edition of Acting For Dummies". The paint-by-numbers script is successful only at filling up space. Director Jim Wynorski appears to have OCD as he not only compulsively intercuts scenes together but obsessively shows characters running down the same long hallway three separate times. The attempts at action are on par with the worst episodes of Walker, Texas Ranger. And despite having a porno-style set up of multiple women trapped inside a house with a single guy, nobody gets naked. This is one of those low budget flicks you've got to have a heavy buzz on to get anything out of it.
When I tell you The Assault ends with a two-minute long countdown to an explosion, you probably know what kind of film it is. I mean, who has a two-minute countdown to anything in a movie? And then that two minutes is stretched out through cinema magic to about 10 or 15 minutes in real time.
If you're one of those folks who believe in Yin and Yang and you end up watching the original Assault on Precinct 13 and need to balance out the universe by seeing a film as bad as that one is good, you might want to rent this piece of crap. No one else needs to bother.