aka Voyage Into Evil
⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️
Cruise ships. They’re not for me. A bunch of people confined in the middle of the ocean or whatever body of water, sharing boring anecdotes and communicable diseases. Add food poisoning, alcohol idiocy, the kind of entertainment confined to boats and the dangers of the deep dark sea just outside and I’m just not there for it. Now, thanks to this late seventies TV flick, I have to worry about the fucking antichrist making his way aboard in a damn sarcophagus. I’ll just stay home, thank you very much. A pleasure cruise in the Gulf of Mexico is in for a Satanic shit show thanks to the unlikely discovery of an Egyptian tomb in the Atlantic Ocean. Don’t worry, even the narrating captain lets us know how odd it is. So, this isn’t a luxury liner but an overbooked vacation cruise has eight folks hopping aboard a ship that has seen better days. The rightfully angry ship captain begrudgingly agrees to escort the passengers to their destination once his job is threatened. His boss is soon crushed by obviously empty boxes after phoning a mysterious party to let them know the job is done. Adding more to the bad vibes, once he hangs up and right before a rogue forklift topples some boxes onto him, he exclaims “God save us”. Boarding the ship are a recently divorced woman who is your standard lush with a fondness for making smoky eyes at anything with a dong, an archeologist (Ray fuckin Milland) with some shocking theories about ancient Egypt, an especially cranky Christopher George who is wrapped up in his business, his put-upon wife (and actual wife) Lynda Day George who is upset with his inability to focus on her, two sexy chicks who don’t mind flirting with the first officer (Starbuck himself Dirk Benedict), an ex-alcoholic reverend, the reverend’s upset wife and some dude suspiciously named Matt Lazarus (TV staple Frank Converse) who is really into mathematics. TC from Magnum, PI is also there as a sailor who offers up help for whatever is needed on the ship. We get caught up on everyone’s business as they sail on to their destination, gathering in a wood-paneled sitting room and discussing whatever shit is important to the plot. When glowing red eyes cause one of those sexy young chicks to lose her footing (a risk for every passenger except for Lynda Day George whose glorious hair’s natural buoyancy would prevent any risk of drowning), the men manage to save her but her groggy claims of a red-eyed something pushing her overboard is dismissed by the captain. The Georges get to smooching, the reverend’s wife seems super horny, the nearly drowning girl cock blocks old Dirty Dirk and the first night is about what one would expect on a makeshift cruise ship. There’s some swimming and shark stock footage to go along with it. The captain dives in with a knife to save the day with pure manliness. Lazarus also jumps in, leaving Dirk to look like a real pussy. The shark just swims off, wasting everyone’s time. TC warns the captain that there is something wrong going on. He agrees. Conveniently, the mathematician figures out that the archeologist’s finding about an Egyptian tomb in Mexico would be located only less than a day away from their current location. Excitement over a treasure hunt and vast riches gets the ship ready to make some stupid choices. The captain insists on carrying on with their planned course but fate has other plans and some busted equipment gets them stalled four hours out from their destination. They figure since they’re anchored, might as well go take a look under the water. That’s where they come across the worst kind tomb, the underwater kind. The holy man freaks out when he lays down his hieroglyph knowledge and believes there’s only awful death awaiting them if they desecrate the watery tomb. The man knows his evil and I believe him because he has a powerful mustache. He’s dismissed as living in the past and the creepy-ass tiny sarcophagus is brought aboard. It looks like your standard Egyptian coffin crafted by a fourth grader but has the horrifying knack of fucking breathing. It’s… unsettling. The beating heart and chanting blaring over the soundtrack adds to the chills. Baby Satan makes everyone go a little crazy, one among the folks is a guardian of the evil thing (never trust a math enthusiast with a biblical last name) and lives will be lost but can the group of seventies hunks and honeys prevent the prophesied end of the world? Probably, but I wouldn’t trust any of them to dress themselves much less go one-on-one with the son of Satan, even if he is confined to a coffin. Much like any cruise ship you board, there’s a stern man of God pooping on the party and everyone is horny as hell but this ship counts the Georges among its passengers which means I’d give it at least a four-star review. Instead of catching chlamydia this group of pleasure cruisers gets a raging case of the apocalypse. That’s the coin flip you risk with bad choices on a boat. This one is a blast and hits that cheesy TV-horror sweet spot.
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