SLAUGHTERHOUSE ROCK (1988)
Technically, you could throw this little number in the pile of "heavy metal" horror heavyweights that bulldozed the 80's. That's why I had to (HAD to) watch it. It is with a sad face emoji that I must report to you that the musical aspect of Slaughterhouse Rock is a mere shadow that jitterbugs in the background of the plot. Maybe it's doing the bunny hop; I can't be too sure. A guy (names escape me) has recurring nightmares of gruesome slayings being carried out at Alcatraz. They are getting more and more vivid, to the point that...um, Guy wakes up in flames. His psychologist beseeches him and his chums to visit the sequestered prison. That's precisely what he does. Demon possession, flaky wisenheimer dialogue and Toni Basil's headgear ensues.
I will say that I was entertained. The crew gave a shit, and everything looks nice. You know you've been watching a lot of cheese-grade bilge when you're pleasantly surprised that the movie you're viewing resembles a movie. In all fairness, Rock checked my horror boxes. The gore is fucking soggy, and all locations are steeped in fog. It really isn't until the last act that the script trips over itself. I was asking questions I shouldn't have been asking. Example? "Where did that monster come from?" If I wasn't a fan of random monsters, there is a chance I might abhor this flick. Spookies has spoiled me so.
18/33...worth a laserdisc rental.