Sam Mason seems pretty relaxed for a man looking into the abyssal eyes of death. His final seconds in the electric chair don’t seem to bother him much and it turns out there’s a good damn reason for that. He may have been prevented from killing the classically handsome Terri, but it would seem he was able to get his thirteenth victim to complete some kind of immortality-granting satanic ritual. Terri, now with aspirations to be a reporter, has agreed to write an article on Mason for a local newspaper in a macabre celebration of the one year anniversary of the serial killer’s execution. After watching a segment on the show Super Natural, she decides to attempt to catch the ghostly voice of the man that tried to kill her by placing a microphone’s tape recorder on his grave. Unfortunately, a scuzzy grave robber comes across the device and decides to steal it. He listens to the recording and is possessed by the undying spirt of Sam Mason. What follows is a sluggish chase that fills up the majority of the film. There’s some violence but we’re more-so treated to B-Roll and some of the worst delivered dialogue this side of a Canadian head trauma ward. There’s a shit-ton of padding but it is an interesting look at the gestation of what Hugh Gallagher would bring to the table with his essential Gore Trilogy. It also lacks that sexy insanity that the best of the brain damaged SOV would provide. It’s a little fun but all in all it could have used some cutting of nearly half the runtime.
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