Archeological students (one of them may be Eminem hiding under a black wig and painted on beard… I have my suspicions) on the prowl for Native American artifacts in the California desert (something the state and the college do not allow) naturally ignore the warnings of a tribal elder and disturb the sacred grounds. Their professor is forced to stick around the university and catalogue artifacts but he seems shady enough to get into illegal activity for the sake of science. Anyways, the digging unleashes a pissed-off spirit who uses deadly force to ensure that the artifacts do not leave the land. Fred Olen Ray unleashes one hell of a rambling supernatural slasher with a killer that can possess the ignorant idiots desecrating the earth but also shows up with a face that resembles a melted rubber mask… knowing Ray, it just may be that. He’s also rocking some tight blue jeans, a fine look for a centuries-dead shirtless spirit warrior. Your standard slasher plot gets a nice injection of off-kilterness thanks to some truly zonked-out performances (and not just the space-case D.J. who seems to have a connection to the paranormal tomfoolery staining the area) from the amateur cast and random-ass boogeyman shenanigans. It’s also memorably brutal (when it finally gets around to it) with its cheap splatter and I will always take that in my 80s bodycount flicks. It makes the error of stacking its kills in the last act which causes some boredom but there’s a few heartwarming attempts at lame spook-show thrills (quick flashes of spooky faces drizzled into the desert wandering) to keep this idiot smiling. I love that lion man and you’ll never change mind. Forrest J Ackerman pops in for brief cameo (naturally, carrying a monster movie book) and all is right in the world.
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