Killer's Run

this is hands down one of the worst movies i have ever seen. its such a simple crappy movie, yet i had no idea what was going on. the video was crap, the audio was crap, the nude scenes were crap, even the revealment of the killer was crap.

i find it hard to believe that anyone rated this as a 3 or above.

My review was written in March 1988 after watching the movie on Celebrity video cassette.

"Fatal Pulse" is a direct-to-video slasher film that is a throwback to the days before women protested against the genre. Pretty sorority girls are killed in bloody fashion and the campus killer's identity is very predictable.

Murders are tied to a locale, a fraternity house owned by Joe Phelan (a dead ringer for his real-life brother Martin Sheen). Hero Ken Roberts ridiculously uses his girlfriend Michelle McCormick as bait to flush out the killer. Ineffectual cop on the case is played by porn star Herschel Savage, here credited as Harvey Cowen.

Softcore sex tease alternates with spilling of blood, while the windup, that the killer was suffering from a fatal illness and used hallucinogens (that turned him into a maniac) to combat it, comes off as silly. For the umpteenth time, a false ending is tacked on. Acting is way below average.

Sorority House Massacre clone about some sorority girls falling prey to a killer. Two teens, one being the main suspect, team up to find out who is behind all the killings. Featuring more violence and nudity then usual, but that can't cover up the fact that this is just plain out awful. Not even good in a bad way and with no camp value what so ever.

Rated R; Extreme Violence, Nudity, Sexual Situations, and Profanity.

Rejection. Strangulation. Boobs. I'm a firm believer that a film should put its best foot forward first and Fatal Pulse doesn't disappoint, getting its sleaze 'n slaying mix going on early. Its black gloved killer offing chicks in a state of undress set up reminisces of gialli, but there's no crazy plotting or style on display here, this is as basic as they come (apart from the score, which rocks). Fortunately things are frequently very silly and the plot has just about enough oomph for things to keep moving until around about the hour mark where the kicks wear off and the pace ambles to an inane close. Things centre on a non entity by the name of Jeff, an individual so forgettable you'd be better off arbitrarily choosing another character to be the hero. He gets accused of a string of sorority murders on account of being the last to see the first victim alive, and things aren't helped by his wild haired love rival and total ass-hole contemporary Brad (this is actually the second film I've seen from 1988 that has an ass hole love rival called Brad). Fortunately he has a lovely girlfriend and comedy room-mate on his side and together they can get to the truth! Ken Roberts makes no impression at all as Jeff, but Michelle McCormick cuts a nice figure as his gal, whilst elsewhere things are good fun, Joe Estevez as a flashback plagued war vet (cries!) Steven Henry suitably obnoxious as Brad and Blair Karsch best of all as foul mouthed stoner room mate Mark, accompanied by a boing when he appears and draping lively and likable idiocy over his every scene, particularly a stand-out costumed scene fending off potential attackers. Kills are spaced fairly well throughout the film and generally entertaining, the seamy edge to all of them is a plus and whilst there isn't any gore on show the spirit is pretty mean with an edge of misogyny (and one of the least likely throat slashings ever goes down, so there's that as well). A fair amount of nudity is on display and the ladies are generally pretty good on the eyes which is handy, though the film should really have gone further, I guess by 1988 the MPAA was really cracking down and the good stuff just wasn't flying. Not much more to say really, this is mediocre stuff and a film for completists only but it is pretty easy viewing for the most part and better than at least some of its ilk. See it if you have to, 5/10.

Just minutes after her boyfriend Jeff has left the scene following an argument, scorching hot sorority girl Stephanie (played by a woman called Kitty, whose next career step was, rather unsurprisingly, in porn) is raped and killed by a gloved maniac (in retrospect, answering the door to a total stranger in nothing but bra, knickers and stockings probably wasn't the greatest idea). Being the last person to see Stephanie alive, Jeff is the prime suspect, and becomes the target of a wild mob after several other sorority house-mates are also brutally murdered…

With a routine, logic-free plot and almost zero gore, Fatal Pulse risks being an instantly forgettable slasher, but director Anthony J. Christopher has an ace up his sleeve that makes this one a little more memorable than it really has any right to be: whereas most films of this ilk feature one or two babes willing to flash their tits in order to tick the nudity box, Fatal Pulse goes bonkers with the boobies, with not one of its pretty blonde sorority sisters being butchered until they have bared their breasts.

Stephanie gets her bra pulled off by the killer before being strangled with a stocking. Carol (Skylar Nicholas) has her throat cut with a vinyl record, but not before she's shown us her itty bitties. Sheila (Maureen O'Hanlon) gives her chest a good wash in the bath before being drowned by the leather-gloved maniac. A skateboard babe has her vest torn off to reveal her ample chest, shortly before being tossed out of window. A girl is strapped topless to a metal frame and electrocuted, and another victim is stripped to her panties and smothered in plaster of Paris. Only lovely Lisa (Michelle McCormick), Jeff's ex-girlfriend, doesn't show us the goods, even though SHE has the only sex scene (what gives?!?!).

In addition to all of the jubblies, slasher fans may also get a kick from the horrible synth/rock soundtrack, the numerous sinister suspects (who include creepy Professor Caldwell, Jeff's one-time best friend turned bitter love rival Brad, and Joe Estevez as Vietnam veteran Ernie, whose PTSD flashbacks only involve sound effects because it's cheaper than showing actual war footage), and an irritating stoner called Mark whose every appearance is inexplicably accompanied by a silly 'Poing!' noise.