⭐️⭐️1/2
Voodoo tomfoolery allows executed serial killer “The Sandman” to have his soul migrate into a body made of sand. Seems reasonable. In order to sever his ties with his former life and gain the absolute power he desires, he has three nights to murder the sole survivor of the last family massacre he performed seventeen years earlier. Griffin has grown from a dinky child afraid of the dark to a dinky twenty-something who looks like he never leaves the coffeehouse and shops exclusively through a Sears catalogue. He’s a freelance writer rocking a backwards brimmed beret (yeah, he’s that kind of guy and he’s played by Bug from Uncle Buck) and goatee combo. Griffin’s friends and acquaintances get marked for death because of who they know. This brings Detective Rolands (Ken fuckin Foree who is severely underutilized) into the picture. With the dead folks showing up with sand in their eyes, Griffin believes the executed criminal ain’t as dead as he should be. He and the detective that saved the day back when he was a kid (William Lucking) start digging into things as the killer with the soothing voice gets on with getting sand in everyone’s unmentionable areas. Griffin becomes a prime suspect because it’s never good pointing the finger at a dead man made of sand, especially when the retired detective who has bothered to listen to you is unceremoniously murdered. Era-appropriate special effects bring the sandy menace to life when he’s not a prosthetic-enhanced wiener who kinda resembles a less wooden Morty from The Fear. This dragged out supernatural slasher is unquestionably lame and a bit too tame for its own good but if you like your horror on the daft side you should get some joy from it. I mean, the villain makes dad jokes and can be stopped by water and sunlight but he does have a sinister Voodoo priest working along with him. There’s a whole subplot with some gang leader that pops in every so often to work as a mcguffin and it just adds more unnecessary minutes to the runtime.
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