Sleazy video distributor William King tricks young filmmaker Alistair Bailey into thinking his film is garbage. King plans to make a bunch of money off Bailey’s hard work without giving him a cent and he won’t be losing any sleep over it either. Slipping into a depression, Bailey sits around, smokes cigarettes and watches horror films (all short and/or unfinished flicks by director Michael J Murphy) as his mental state deteriorates. He discovers the scuzzy shenanigans of King when his girlfriend (also King’s secretary) alerts him to what’s going on. Together they concoct a plan for vengeance. Alastair dresses up as the killer from his film and dispenses violent justice on those who have wronged him, filming it all as it plays out. Low-budget masterpiece was apparently writer/director Murphy’s least favorite of his filmography. He had plans to restore and remaster it before his death at the age of 63. I see it as a beautiful time capsule that comes off (for lack of a better example) like an early Polonia brothers flick but way more mature. It’s grimy and raw but that’s my kind of heaven.
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