Máscara de muerte

I saw this movie with my friends. We rented it for Halloween. This movie was crap. The saddest thing is that the best acting job is done by Frank Stallone. The acting is obviously acting. The plot is so bad that a drunk chimpanzee could write a better screenplay. After seeing this movie I felt the overwhelming pleasure of knowing that if the actors and actresses could get jobs then maybe so can I. The best part of this movie is the credits, and if you watch it I should recommend that you keep a surgeon handy as you might want a full frontal lobotomy upon reaching the end. I am still trying to figure out why I actually sat all the way through to the credits. If you have one brain cell you will lose it upon watching this. My recommendation is that if forced with watching this movie or having your sight and hearing taken from you go with the latter, because at the end you will wish you had anyways.

You're probably unaware that they remade THE MASQUE OF THE RED DEATH in 1989 and there's a good reason for that: it's an utterly generic B-movie and not very good either. It was shot by British director Alan Birkinshaw, best known for the grubby slasher KILLER'S MOON back in 1978, and filmed in South Africa along with a handful of other Poe remakes. The plot is only loosely based on the Price film, set at a Hungarian castle where a rich nobleman is holding the titular masque.

It's cheesy stuff for sure, with plenty of wooden acting aside from the reliable Herbert Lom in a supporting role; Frank Stallone is one of the worst culprits but I was disappointed by the female lead too. The "red death" himself has been refigured as a slasher killer, going around cutting throats and limbs, so expect some gore and torture devices borrowed from Poe. A few fun references, like a guy dressed as Chaney's Phantom at one point, but not enough to make this remotely entertaining.

A dying millionare decides to throw one last party for old times sake. The theme of the party is Edgar Allen Poe's Masque of Red Death, but someone seems to have token the theme of the party to heart, because all of the guests are being slashed by a mysterious red masked, cloaked figure.

Starts out suprisingly interesting with some good shocks in spite of Z grade cast and low budget, but unfortunately the film is not able to keep up it's momentum and it becomes flat and boring. Still, some of the visuals (sets, costumes, and a tad of the make-up) are lively and flashy enough to bring this film slightly out of the gutter at times.

Rated R; Nudity, Strong Violence, Profanity.

I really enjoyed this movie. I thought that Michelle McBride was a refreshing and exciting actress who balanced brilliantly with the other cast. She looks great and boy is she sexy. Frank Stallone made a perfect Duke. He's a great actor; does a fabulous tango - not easy to do. Herbert Lom was fun as the mad King Ludwig and the lovely Brenda Vaccaro gave a sterling performance as usual. The story was good - I couldn't wait to see what was going to happen next and the thrills and fears of an old fashioned horror story were certainly there. Some pretty good visual effects and an exciting twist on the original Edgar Allan Poe story by action director Alan Birkinshaw. The scene with the pendulum in the clock was one of the best dramatic scenes from any Edgar Allan Poe movie I have ever seen. It left me clinging to my chair in a cold sweat. I believe Birkinshaw also made the House of Usher and the award winning Punch with Donald Sutherland. All in all, it was an entertaining and exciting piece of cinema. More please. More.

After watching director Alan Birkinshaw's The House of Usher (1989), I wrote that it was probably the worst film to be inspired by Edgar Allen Poe's novel The Fall of the House of Usher (I hadn't yet seen Jess Franco's Revenge in the House of Usher). Birkinshaw's other Poe movie, The Masque of the Red Death, is also a load of garbage. At least he's consistent.

In this totally oddball late-'80s offering, Michelle McBride plays Rebecca Stephens, a reporter for Snoop magazine who crashes a lavish Bavarian costume ball being hosted by eccentric millionaire Ludwig (Herbert Lom). Dressed as Cupid (meaning that she isn't wearing much), and armed with a secret camera in her bow, Rebecca snaps the other guests, but the party doesn't go quite as planned when people start turning up dead, murdered by a mysterious figure in a red mask and hooded robe.

What could have been a fun, trashy, gory slasher is totally undermined by Birkinshaw's dreadful direction, which results in irritatingly quirky performances and bizarre scenes that simply reek of the 1980s, but not in a good way. Battling for the title of worst actor are Frank Stallone as Duke, Brenda Vaccaro as Elaina, and Christine Lunde as Colette: one wonders what Birkinshaw was putting in the water to elicit such strangeness. Runner-up has to be the singer in the godawful pop-rock band who blast out tunes during the mayhem: his acting is even worse than his singing.

The film's best moments (ie. The only parts that are bearable) are the murders: one victim is cut up with an open-razor, a woman is threaded into a loom with needles piercing her flesh, and another finds herself trapped under the razor-edged pendulum of a clock, the blade coming closer and closer to her neck with each passing second. They're imaginative and reasonably well staged, but even though they provide a little respite from the horribly dated craziness, it's not enough to make me recommend this mess other than to dedicated connoisseurs of straight-to-video trash.