Rating: F
Dir: Donald G. Jackson [as “Maximo T. Bird”]
Star: Nicholas Celozzi, Julie Strain, Lori Jo Hendrix, Marilyn Deye
a.k.a. The Devil’s Pet or Elixir
Lured in by the prospect of Strain waving a sword without her top on, I wasn’t aware this was another load of Jackson bollocks, and he certainly cements his reputation as a credible contender for the worst directors of all time, making Ed Wood look like Stanley Kubrick. The “plot” – and quotes have rarely ever been used more deliberately – sees a glamour photographer (Celozzi, I’m presuming – the credits never deign to link a cast member to a character) head off to an island with a bunch of models, including Strain.
An antique bottle is stumbled across, containing some kind of fluid, which they inexplicably drink [look, I was taught not to drink unlabelled liquids before I went to school. I mean, hasn’t anyone here read Alice in Wonderland?]. This causes them to go psychotic, and in Strain’s case, spend the rest of the film wandering the island, waving a sword without her top on. The movie consists, more or less, of three kinds of scenes, framed by a wraparound segment where the photographer is being interviewed by a journalist – which largely robs the rest of any suspense, since we know he’s not going to die. These are: 1) Glamour photography sessions. 2) Softcore sex scenes. 3) People wandering aimlessly around the island. Repeat, apparently at random, for 75 minutes.
In what bizarre universe does this pass for film-making? The one inhabited by Mr. Jackson, apparently, though it seems this one never even saw any kind of release, proving the credibility of market forces in helping protect the population at large from the very worst cinema has to offer. I’d say this suggests they made the film up as they went along, but that’s probably giving Jackson and his crew too much credit, since there’s little or no evidence they had a plan, even when they were shooting. Even my high regard for Julie Strain has been dimmed by the pain of having to sit through this, though at least she got paid for the experience and I didn’t. Fortunately, at least I didn’t pay for this either, though it’s 75 minutes I’ll never get back.