The Loch Ness Horror

I've always been interested in cryptozoology, the study of mythical creatures whose existence has yet to be scientifically proven (yes, I may have pillaged that definition from a dictionary, but you have no proof...ha!).  It's baffling that there are no grade-A Nessie flicks on the market.  Sasquatch has received generous exposure.  Even The Jersey Devil has graced video shelves with its fallacious, imponderable presence.  But Nessie?  The pickings are slim and not that hot.  Putting aside CGI routs, 1981's The Loch Ness Horror is your best bet.  It was directed by cult maestro Larry Buchanan, which should clue you in on the film's virtues.  If you desire historical context, he was the man behind The Eye Creatures and Mars Needs Women.

Normally, low-budget creature features send cataracts of blood to my pulsating member.  And while Loch Ness is tantalizing in spots, the end result is a subfuse headache.  Are you into talky expositions with vague political undertones?  Well, this is your lucky day!  We open in California, but California is standing in for Scotland.  Basically, we open in Scotland.  Amateur cryptozoologists rub shoulders with Nessie and vamoose with an egg resting at the bottom of the lake.  The Baddest Bitch in Europe (I submit that everyone adopts my proposed nickname for the apocryphal sea monster) is pissed off.  Awkward shots of the titular beast stalking teenagers in a timbered locale ensue.  That's not a joke.  "Scientists" deduce that Nessie is an amphibian, so we get a few scenes where she eats campers on dry land.

I wish those bits were as AMAZING as they sound, but they aren't.  Don't get me wrong.  The idea alone is entertaining, and I'm grateful that Buchanan isn't bashful with his mechanical puppet.  We catch an eyeful of Nessie's static face in the first fifteen minutes.  However, the effects technicians were limited to the point where they could only build a torso.  Once you see that elongated neck and those stripper-vacant peepers, you've seen all there is to see.  In my youth, I dated a stripper who was dead inside.  "How dead inside was she???"  She was so dead inside, she had a miscarriage the day before her scheduled abortion.  That, my friends, is a textbook example of reader participation.  You're welcome.

The kills are bereft of red stuff.  On the whole, the pace clinks along at a stifled snore.  The cast is...comprised of people.  Honestly, I can't remember character details, nor can I be bothered to single out a noteworthy performance.  Trying to stay awake during the third act was a taxing ordeal.  There is a preposterous twist involving Nazis, but it adds absolutely nothing to The Loch Ness Horror.  In related news, I appreciated the scenery.  Meh.  I'm calling a spade a fucking spade.  If not for the laughable Nessie dummy, this film would be a one-Z'Dar cowplop.  What a waste of a wicked poster.  I have a Scottish friend named Lee, and somehow, this is his fault.

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