It’s probably best to
begin by listing all the things this low-budget horror flick is not. Despite
the title, the subject matter doesn’t concern vampires or zombies or any other
plasma-craving monsters. And lest any of the following remarks give a different
impression, Blood Stalkers is not a
good movie by any measure. It’s amateurish and goofy and sluggish, burdened
with clichéd characters and trite dramatic situations. Having said all that, Blood Stalkers has tangential
connections to Bigfoot, who was very much in vogue at the time this picture was
released, and the picture hits its stride as a nihilistic shocker during the
final 30 minutes or so. All of which is to say that if you dig the elements contained
herein, Blood Stalkers makes for an
adequate empty-calories snack.
The sketchy narrative begins with two couples
driving into the Everglades for a vacation. Mike (Jerry Albert) recently
inherited a remote cabin, and he’s brought his reluctant wife, Kim (Toni
Crabtree), and their friends Daniel (Ken Miller) and Jeri (Celea Ann Cole)
along for the ride. Upon arriving in swamp country, Mike clashes with a grubby
gas-station proprietor (Herb Goldstein), who gives the standard get-outta-here-if-you-know-what’s-good-for-you
rap. Naturally, because he’s a character in a dumb horror movie, Mike ignores
the advice. Things get weird immediately thereafter, because three gun-toting
slobs, who look less like Deliverance
rejects and more like members of a redneck militia, show up at the gas station
to wave guns at the newcomers. Again, Mike proceeds despite the clear danger to
himself and his friends, which means that logic is not a factor in what
follows. After Mike’s group settles into the cabin, they’re frightened by
mysterious creatures that are referred to by locals as “blood stalkers,”
whatever that means. The siege grows more intense each passing night, with
hairy Bigfoot-like monsters eventually putting their hands on members of Mike’s
group.
Eventually, the movie develops a queasy sort of tension because things
get ultraviolent, complete with over-the-top gore. None of it makes much sense,
but it’s hard to look away from bizarre scenes featuring slow-mo chases and
cuts to gospel singers. (Don’t ask.) And while the onscreen Bigfoot stuff is a
bit of a tease, the offscreen connection to Sasquatch lore is real. Robert W.
Morgan, who wrote and directed Blood
Stalkers in addition to playing one of the menacing rednecks, appeared in
several ’70s documentaries as a self-proclaimed Bigfoot hunter. He cut a
memorably ridiculous figure in those projects, so it’s unsurprising that Blood Stalkers, his sole directorial
effort, is simultaneously earnest and stupid. For better or worse (mostly worse), Morgan approached his contributions to ’70s pop culture with fierce commitment.
Blood Stalkers: FUNKY
This sounds great!
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