Entry 56: Satan's Blade (1984)

Satan's Blade (1984)

Dir: L. Scott Castillo, Jr.



Two leather-and-jeans-clad men, their faces hidden from the camera, hold up a small town bank.  As they're loading up their ill-gotten loot, they force one of the two female tellers to strip at knife point, then shoot both of them dead.  When the two arrive at their secluded mountain getaway and shed their disguises, the camera pulls back to reveal that these two bad boys are actually foxy chicks, Ruth and Trish, wearing bulky men's clothing!  After they finish stripping down (allowing the director to linger lovingly on their bare tits), duplicitous Ruth guns down Trish in the shower, cackling maniacally as her erstwhile partner expires.  While dragging Trish's corpse from their lodge room, Ruth is herself dispatched by an unseen, knife-wielding figure.  Jesus, this movie is nuts, and we're only 10 minutes in!  Unfortunately, the film can't sustain this crazy momentum and, after the promising beginning, it descends into a VERY average 80s stalker picture.  The DAY AFTER the murders, a group of Young Urban Professionals shows up and rents the VERY SAME CABIN in which the murders took place (clearly, there's some crackerjack police work occurring in northern California).  After being warned of the legend of a murderous mountain man who allegedly still stalks the area, this gaggle of displaced city folk spend an interminable amount of time arguing, flirting, fucking and engaging in various outdoor activities (after a vigorous hike, one of the ladies utters one of my current favorite movie lines of all time: "Fuck me dead; I don't think I'll walk for days!").  Soon, the mystery killer begins hunting down the group, with nighttime stalking scenes illuminated only by window light copied directly from Halloween.  This was a regional, Northern Califronia-produced film that never got a theatrical release (there's a story about the producer blowing much of the distribution budget on a new office) and only had a limited release on VHS.  It was produced in the same year that A Nightmare on Elm Street effectively killed the standard, non-supernatural stalk 'n slash film, and therefore went unnoticed by all but the most diehard of horror fans.  I'll be honest, it's not particularly good (the blood/gore effects are particularly amateurish), but the acting (by local talent, none of whom went on to do anything else) isn't terrible, and Castillo makes up for his lack of directorial talent with an enthusiasm that reminds me of the great Ted V. Mikels.  Also, it runs a brisk 76 minutes, and it's the only slasher film I can think of in which a character is drowned in dirty dishwater...That has to count for something, right?