Las Vegas Serial Killer

Las Vegas Serial Killer (1986)

** (out of 4)

I'm not sure anyone was asking for a sequel to THE Hollywood STRANGLER MEETS THE SKID ROW SLASHER but director Ray Dennis Steckler gave us one anyone. In the film, the "Hollywood Strangler" Johnathan Klick (Pierre Agostino) gets released from prison on a technicality and it doesn't take long for him to start strangling more women. Look, this is a very low-budget movie and it's going to appeal to very few people. It's mainly going to appeal to fans of Steckler who enjoy his style of films. He always went against the grain and delivered a type of film that wasn't normal or at least wasn't like everything else out there. By the time LAS VEGAS SERIAL KILLER was released, the slasher genre was in full bloom so bloody violence was a norm but you really don't get that here. The killings are all pretty simple, not graphic and the film just doesn't seem like something from 1986. I'm not saying this as a negative thing because this setting and look just makes the film stand apart. Like the first film, a lot of the film was shot silent and narration was used to tell the story and move it along. This sequel really isn't as graphic or naughty as the first one so I'm sure many are going to see it as a watered-down version, which would be understandable but I must admit that it kept my interest throughout. Yes, we could name countless flaws with the picture but thankfully it's just 75-minutes and it goes by extremely quick without any major boring sequences. The subplot with the two thieves makes for a nice twist at the end as well.

For starters, you just can't film your actors and then dub all the dialogue during post-production. It looks and sounds absolutely ridiculous. Luckily, or unluckily, it doesn't affect the quality of this film.

Mr. Steckler has treated us to an utterly pointless and boring hunk of junk here. It all starts out with a very flimsy premise. A serial killer of seven women has just been released on parole after serving only six years. Ugh...those darn liberals!! It comes as little surprise when several women soon turn up being strangled to death. Our serial killer becomes the main suspect. Talk about hard-nosed detective work.

The viewer is treated to unbearably long scenes of a couple of guys standing around on a Vegas street corner making lewd comments about women walking by while occasionally photographing them. Who are these guys? We have to wait until late in the film to fully realize their (un)importance. There is also a scene showing a parade go by. That would be fine if, let's say, there is an assassin on one of the floats and he is plotting to kill the President or something. Alas...no. Not here. It exists only to pad the running time. Thanks Mr. Steckler!

You get to see multiple topless women and a couple of brain-numbingly long scenes of women dancing seductively in some dive bar. Notice a pattern? Such as way too many scenes of absolutely nothing that go on way too long? That doesn't make a fun movie. 1/10

In the pantheon of bad filmmakers, there are a handful of names that rise (or fall?) above the rest. Ed Wood. H.G. Lewis. Al Adamson. And another such name is Ray Dennis Steckler, the man behind such enduring classics as The Incredibly Strange Creatures That Stopped Living and Became Mixed-Up Zombies, Rat Pfink a Boo-Boo, and The Lemon Grove Kids Meet the Monsters. After that string of wretched but harmless trash was released in the 1960's, Steckler's films started taking on a darker tone, perhaps reflecting the changing mood and tastes of the times. Eventually he devolved into directing hardcore porn films, although he would still occasionally release slightly less tawdry fare. Las Vegas Serial Killer is one such production, although its quality is even more substandard. A late middle-aged photographer wanders around Las Vegas, strangling random dancers, prostitutes and models as he crosses paths with them. Meanwhile, a pair of guys in matching black T-shirts and sunglasses also wander around Las Vegas, occasionally robbing tourists and business owners at gunpoint. A voice-over radio announcer keeps the viewer up to date with the manhunt for the killer and the robbers. Most of this 76 minute wonder is comprised of stock footage of the Las Vegas strip, a rodeo, traffic, and bad showgirl dancers. A lot of it looks at least ten years older than the film's release date. For only the most self-loathing film addicts. Steckler writes and directs under the pseudonym "Wolfgang Schmidt."

"Las Vegas Serial Killer" is the cinematic equivalent of elevator music. You barely notice its presence, but at the same time it's intensely irritating. This is supposed to be a sequel to 1979's "The Hollywood Strangler Meets The Skid Row Slasher", but somehow it's even more boring than that one. The thing is, at least the original had two serial killers going for it. You had a scene where the strangler strangled a girl, then one where the slasher stabs a hobo: rinse and repeat until you finally have eighty minutes. Unfortunately the skid row slasher isn't in this one, she's replaced by two muggers who stand on a street corner and make sexist comments for the entire movie. Why are we even following these guys, what do they have to do with the plot (so to speak)? Once you find out, you'll feel like burning down a building.

Even though Ray Dennis Steckler made some...interesting features in the 1960s, by 1986 he was clearly too lazy to make something even vaguely watchable. Bizarrely though, his lazyness often kicks in when there's not even any work at hand. For instance, he comes up with this lame reason why the Hollywood strangler is released from prison: apparently the bodies of his victims were never found, even though he just threw them in dumpsters. That makes no sense, but here's the thing: the strangler wasn't even caught in the first one! Why not just pretend he's been killing more people for the last six years? The psyche of Ray Dennis Steckler is very mysterious.

The most fascinating thing about Steckler's career is that his development somehow goes backwards, while cinema as a whole was taking huge steps forwards. His first few movies seem like actual movies, low-budget but everything you need is there. Then he started shooting without sound, but still dubbed in dialogues and sound effects rather competently. And here, in one of the final films of his career, we barely hear dialogue and if someone does talk we usually get a shot of his back or something. This is 1986 we're talking about, was it really that difficult or expensive to shoot with sound by then? Even though Steckler's movies didn't sell too poorly, it always seemed like he had even less money for the next feature.

If you're interested in 75 minutes of ladies who really suck at pretending they're getting strangled, interspersed with muggers doing nothing and unrelated footage of local events (we see a rodeo, an airplane show AND a parade) that are just there to pad out the running time, this is certainly the movie for you. How's that for an endorsement?

I have to say that I loved Ray Dennis Steckler's "Hollywood Strangler Meets the Skid Row Slasher," and was pretty excited to get my hands on this so-called sequel. Unfortunately, even with about four decades of poverty-row filmmaking under his belt, 'ol Ray hasn't gotten any better at wielding a fine-tuned script. "Las Vegas Serial Killer" marks the return of Jonathan Glick (played once again by Pierre Agostino), as some ridiculous circumstances release him from prison (funny, I thought he looked pretty dead at the end of "Hollywood Strangler"), only for him to wreak havoc on the homely females of Las Vegas (the 'dancers' in this flick are pretty frightening and out-of shape). Meanwhile, two dumb biker types are zipping around Vegas in their red car, commenting on women's legs in between bouts of purse-snatching & robbery; throughout this exercise in futility, I was hoping Glick and the bikers would somehow tie into each other, and they do, in one of the most preposterous endings I've ever seen. This standard-issue Steckler experience seems to have been shot, with a plot (if it can be called that) inserted in post-production, where a radio commentator tries to string a nonsensical chain of events together (in one lame scene, the music on the radio continues to play even as the narrator interrupts with a 'news flash'); characters don't speak unless their backs are to the camera or they're off-screen altogether (this gets very irritating very quickly), not that anything they say is relevant. Despite the stupid plot and ridiculous ending, there are some positive aspects to this low-budget mess: Steckler's Zapruder-esque cinematography is still raw and fascinating to watch (though the movie often threatens to turn into a LV travelogue), with a penchant for tourist attractions and parades; Agostino has a definite presence as the Glick, and to see him working in a pizza parlor is a laugh riot (though is it conceivable that every woman he meets would want to 'do' him?). But a major component of this film's failure is a lack of Carolyn Brandt, who played the "Skid Row Slasher" of the original and had a charisma and sex appeal that none of the characters in this film can even approach. As a fan of "Hollywood Strangler," this movie is a huge disappointment, and for non-fans, it's bound to be much worse.

4/10