Disconnected is the perfect word to describe the style of this very bizarre '80s obscurity, which is executed in such an off-kilter manner, with disparate scenes edited together in a seemingly random manner, that it actually proves quite mesmerising.
Frances Raines stars as pretty video store clerk Alicia, who begins dating a guy called Franklin (Mark Walker) unaware that he is the serial killer who has been butchering local women. Meanwhile, the poor girl is also having to contend with a series of bizarre, unsettling phone calls that are pushing her to the brink of insanity. While this sounds pretty straightforward, writer/producer/director/editor/tea-boy Gorman Bechard's unique creative approach makes for an unusual viewing experience to say the least.
From the get go, this is one weird movie, the first ten minutes or so making very little sense: Alicia helps an old man to her apartment, where he uses her phone and promptly disappears; Alicia and her friends dance to a really bad band; a man entertains a woman at a bar by doing the same magic trick twice; Alicia accuses her boyfriend of sleeping with her twin sister; Franklin visits the video shop despite not owning a player; a cop talks directly to camera about the murders: all of this is edited together in such a strange fashion that it beggars belief (throughout the film, Bechard chucks in random shots of everyday objects for good measure).
The film then trundles along in a relatively logical manner until midway, when Franklin is shot dead by the police, after which Alicia's scary phone calls become more and more frequent. No explanation is ever given for these occurrences, the film ending with Alicia smashing her phone (after the earpiece bleeds!?!), and with the reappearance of the old man from the beginning, whose relevance is also a complete mystery.
Go into this one expecting to not understand what is happening, and you might just find yourself entertained by its sheer craziness; if not, then there's always the lovely Miss Raines to hold your attention, the actress spending much of the film wandering around in her underwear and taking off her top to provide the obligatory nudity (she also plays Alicia's twin sister Barbara Ann, giving us twice the opportunity to appreciate her charms).
4.5 out of 10, rounded up to 5 for IMDb.
Frances Raines stars as pretty video store clerk Alicia, who begins dating a guy called Franklin (Mark Walker) unaware that he is the serial killer who has been butchering local women. Meanwhile, the poor girl is also having to contend with a series of bizarre, unsettling phone calls that are pushing her to the brink of insanity. While this sounds pretty straightforward, writer/producer/director/editor/tea-boy Gorman Bechard's unique creative approach makes for an unusual viewing experience to say the least.
From the get go, this is one weird movie, the first ten minutes or so making very little sense: Alicia helps an old man to her apartment, where he uses her phone and promptly disappears; Alicia and her friends dance to a really bad band; a man entertains a woman at a bar by doing the same magic trick twice; Alicia accuses her boyfriend of sleeping with her twin sister; Franklin visits the video shop despite not owning a player; a cop talks directly to camera about the murders: all of this is edited together in such a strange fashion that it beggars belief (throughout the film, Bechard chucks in random shots of everyday objects for good measure).
The film then trundles along in a relatively logical manner until midway, when Franklin is shot dead by the police, after which Alicia's scary phone calls become more and more frequent. No explanation is ever given for these occurrences, the film ending with Alicia smashing her phone (after the earpiece bleeds!?!), and with the reappearance of the old man from the beginning, whose relevance is also a complete mystery.
Go into this one expecting to not understand what is happening, and you might just find yourself entertained by its sheer craziness; if not, then there's always the lovely Miss Raines to hold your attention, the actress spending much of the film wandering around in her underwear and taking off her top to provide the obligatory nudity (she also plays Alicia's twin sister Barbara Ann, giving us twice the opportunity to appreciate her charms).
4.5 out of 10, rounded up to 5 for IMDb.