Blood Voyage (1976)

Mindless horror/thriller schlock that may or may not have slithered through theaters on its way to an ‘80s video release, Blood Voyage tells the dull story of a sailboat cruise during which crew members and passengers get murdered one by one. At no point do any survivors consider calling for help or turning the boat around, and for that matter nobody seems particularly concerned about what’s happening until the requisite climax during which the killer stalks the final victim. Yawn. If you must know the specifics, middle-aged shrink Dr. Craig (John Hart) sets out from LA for Hawaii accompanied by his decades-younger fiancée (Laurie Rose), his buxom daughter (Mara Modair), and a sexy patient with severe mental illness (Midori). The narrative function of these ladies is to model swimsuits, participate in nude scenes, and shriek when attacked. Three macho seamen run the ship for Dr. Craig, and the one who gets the most screen time is Andy (Jonathan Goldsmith), a Vietnam vet tormented by PTSD. Andy, by the way, is sleeping with Dr. Craig’s daughter, who wants him to kill Dad so she can inherit wealth. Listing the reasons why Blood Voyage is awful would be exhausting, but to name just one, a sailboat is an iffy setting for this sort of whodunnit—if you want to determine the killer’s identity, maybe just congregate on deck and wait for someone to reach for a knife? Although the acting in Blood Voyage is as bad as the storytelling, two players are somewhat notable—Hart briefly played the Lone Ranger on TV, and Goldsmith later portrayed “The Most Interesting Man in the World” in beer commercials.

Blood Voyage: LAME

7.5 Million Views!

Hey there, groovy people! Last time I posted one of these updates about viewership milestones, I offered my hope that readers had not grown bored with reports of this nature. And while I still hope that’s true, the process of watching the numbers increase over time has not lost its novelty for me, hence this message of gratitude for everyone out there diggin’ on the signals I’m sendin’. Of late, I’ve taken some time to revisit movies that were reviewed for this blog years ago as a means of reconnecting with reasons why the cinema of the ’70s is so endlessly fascinating. Whether I’m taking a fresh look at a stone classic (how’s it hangin’, The Exorcist), a minor hit from back in the day (lay it on me, Jesus Christ Superstar), or a cult favorite (gimme five, Time After Time), it’s been a kick to remind myself of the wonders associated with the New Hollywood era. Notwithstanding the much-discussed consideration of how tricky it is to lay my retinas on ’70s movies I haven’t yet reviewed, I feel like I’ve got a fresh tank of gas in the engine for the next leg of this trippiest of trips. So hang loose, because there’s more to come—and, as always, hope endures that I’ll discover some masterpiece that’s been unfairly overlooked since the ’70s. Until next time, thanks for reading, and keep on keepin’ on!