Thursday, June 16, 2022

Bloodbath at the House of Death

 Bloodbath at the House of Death is a fairly witless 1984 British comedy that reads like an attempt to do an Abrahams\Zucker style parody by way of Hammer Horror, but comes out feeling like a particularly unfunny Carry On or Benny Hill skit.


 There's a couple of cute jokes here, but for the most part it trades on mild subversions of expectations without a decent punchline. Or even worse, just thinking some mundane thing is intrinsically funny and letting it play out: Hey, this guy is blind! Look, he crashes into things all the time! Or look at these guys, they're gay! Here they are, liking other men! Again, with no real punchline, no jokes. It's... pretty fucking terrible.

This, I'm sorry to say, is about as funny as it gets.

 It starts out all right - likeable, if not actually very funny, and with a high body count as well. In a short pre-titles prologue a terrible massacre is carried out by a bunch of monks on a secluded manor house. A few years later a group of scientists go in to investigate, spooky hijnx ensue. You get your requisite references to then-recent(ish) hollywood hits (ET! Carrie! The Entity!) but unfortunately the movie never has the grace to more closely emulate Top Secret!, released on the same year.

 And it's not just the humor that's Z-grade. The movie boasts a decent budget for what it is - there's a few big scenes with a lot of extras, some animated effects, and a decent amount of locations, but it looks cheap and tacky throughout, and while there is some gore, it's nothing special. The acting ranges from "they did what they could with the material given" (this includes Vincent Price, classing up the joint a little) to painful to watch ("comedian" Kenny Everett, who I'm happy to say I'd avoided up to now and will continue to do so; Reading up on the movie, it came as no surprise that he was a radio jockey.)

 Just... seriously, don't bother. There are no real laughs to be had here, and the few decent jokes (like someone getting decapitated with an electric can opener, or... um, a cute bit with a bookcase, I guess?) are few, far between, and better on paper than in execution.

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