Castor’s Hallow’s Eve Duds – Nightmare Beach (1989)

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I suppose the reason that left-wing filmmakers regurgitated the analogous storyline of a resurrected death-row killer was because it was their soapbox against capital punishment. As such, ‘Nightmare Beach’s is a tactless notch on the flashpoint topic which nullifies any plea for a venial, Innocent man bring executed since Edward Diablo (Tony Bolano) is truly a flaying biker sadist.

Instead of a haywire pyrotechnics electrocution, Diablo’s body slightly twitches in a static medium shot and he is pronounced inanimate without any bells-and-whistles. Not exactly the most dazzling method to ignite a spree of beyond-the-grave vengeance.

The prank of a teenager floating atop the surface of a pool with blood undulating out of him is staggeringly postiche (the charred flesh scar would pass muster at a novelty shop). The death scenes could be generously chalked up to an inferiorly Anglicized version of Dario Argento with equally lobotomized, senseless victims hitching a ride onto the wraith’s motorcycle only to be rotisseried by the tailpipe. Also augmenting the Italian horror comparison is the pseudo-prog rock soundtrack.

Movie Review: Nightmare Beach (1988) | by Patrick J Mullen | As Vast as  Space and as Timeless as Infinity | Medium

The marauding masses of spring breakers are uniformly dunderheaded and sexist except for a lovelorn mope for a protagonist. In fact, one of the frat boys obnoxiously harasses a sylphlike female bartender that she “would be prettier if she smiled.” The fringes of the plot are embroiled around the Abel Ferrera sleaze factor of a collegiate prostitute and supernumerary wet T-shirt contests (which are dynamically docurealistic).

The thread about the indefatigable police investigation by John Saxon and Michael Parks is frequently adrift. A flask-swigging Parks as the beleaguered coroner and some of the public drunkenness are the only consolations for The Hardy Boys mystery.

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