A team of “scientists” may be inept to all hell but they do manage to catch the legendary chupacabra. The chupacabra here is some rubber-masked goon in a ragged robe. It is both cheap and lovely. The creature is held at the team’s secret facility which just so happens to be set up in the Amityville house. Yes. They have built a secret facility in that infamous piece of Long Island property. Don’t question it. It has happened and we just have to deal with it. Biohazard stickers are placed on clothing and cheap lab materials so we know it’s a fucking lab set up in the Amityville house. “Scientists” stiffly discuss tests in the backyard, on a porch swing. They explain that they’re testing the effects of paranormal energies in the proximity of their captured monster. This is why they have rented the Amityville house. See! There’s all the reason you need! One young scientist has a psychic premonition on the colleague he has the hots for being chased by the chupacabra. He doesn’t warn her but he does ask her out and she accepts. Unwarned, the Spirit Halloween fiend manages to escape after puking plastic bugs on the girl who was supposed to be prepping it for the next experiment. Looks like that coffee date won’t be happening. The scientists argue about one of their number being a spy and that’s concerning but more concerning is the escaped monster roaming around the house/lab. What follows are boring conversations performed by a few generations of AV club members in the cramped setting of a suburban home while footage of a Halloween store monster roaming around randomly hits. The head of the program arrives and she is one cold bitch with a stick up her ass and a problem with annunciating every fucking thing she says. She’s demanding a sit-rep before she sends in a clean up task force. Neck tattoos, comfortable living room seating, lockdown protocols that make no sense, heavy breathing, a security guard with a “S.W.A.T. cop” hat, dialogue written by a possibly mentally challenged AI program, lab coats, repeated plot points, action presented through dialogue, the world’s most pathetic storage room, a very loud tattoo-covered hunter with an eyepatch, melodramatics by gunpoint in a laundry room, a pathetic knife fight and some truly unlikable people (way to kill off the only likable idiot first, you stupid fucking movie) add up for one ass-numbing experience. Seventy minutes end up feeling like four days in the hottest moments of August spent in a small room with people you hate and no air conditioning. A boring, irritating mess. If you fast forward through the majority of the film it still blows donkey dicks. Saved from the oblivion of zero stars thanks to its cheap-ass monster (that rarely shows up), the last act “evil” return of the only likable character and plenty of wood paneling.
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