Open House

At first I thought that this one was supposed to be somewhat of a comedy/horror when I had seen the body in the bathtub with the lady just standing there screaming over and over again but as the film proceeded on, it got more and more flat. The plot was silly with a man upset that the prices of real estate have gone up so now he dicides to call up some radio psyciatrist and babble out his fury because he has nothing better to do. Then the law gets involved and tries desperatly to make us feel that they really care who the caller is and go out of their way to track this guy down. One suspect after another are accused. This movie is terrible and the slow moving love scenes of Adrian B. and her husband are boring and made me just fast forward the movie. Avoid it!

Written and directed by Indian exploitation film-maker Jag Mundhra, Open House stars Joseph Bottoms as radio psychologist Dr. David Kelley, who suspects that one of his crazier callers might be the serial killer currently targeting Los Angeles' female real estate agents. Adrienne Barbeau co-stars as Kelley's girlfriend, a successful realtor destined to come face-to-face with the sniggering, dog-food eating lunatic before the closing credits roll.

In keeping with its real estate theme, one viewing of this silly late-'80s slasher is definitely more than enough: it's extremely dated, lacks original features, and is missing the 'wow factor' so sorely needed in such an overcrowded market. The direction is flat, the storyline drags, there is very little in the way of genuine suspense, and the gore is limited to a couple of unconvincing severed fingers (which are chopped off with a makeshift weapon constructed from a sink plunger and some razor blades!) and a decapitated head.

4.5 out of 10, generously rounded up to 5 for the obligatory female nudity (which comes from a busty dominatrix who takes a nude swim, and Barbeau, who gives fans a brief glimpse of her ample rack), the hilariously camp radio station employee (just in case you're in any doubt about his sexuality, he wears a pink shirt), the bizarre kitten stroking scene, and sexy Christina Gallegos as doomed realtor Pilar Hernandez, who gets the shock of her life when she bumps into the killer.

Horrible, horrible, horrible. The only redeeming quality I could salvage from this achingly slow and sloppily made excuse for a bad horror movie was telling people how awful it is and summing up the plot for them: "It's about a guy who goes around killing people with razorblades glued to a stick because he's angry about the price of real estate." As an aspiring filmmaker, I'm not sure whether I should cry over the film and time that was wasted making this atrocity, or rejoice over the fact that someone, somewhere, has a money tree and is willing to lend it to anyone with a 50¢ script and the desire to film it.

(to find out the only abomination of a film that could beat this one as the worst film I've ever seen, check out my review for "Hundstage" [Dog Days])

A serial killer kills wealthy real estate agents in weird, sadistic manners whilst complaining about the injustice of such people in society on the radio to an over-confident radio psychologist. The production is anything BUT upscale. The only real stars are the homes themselves, some of which are breathtaking, and a much misused and out-of-place Adrienne Barbeau. Barbeau plays the head of a real estate firm that just happens to be dating the radio shrink. Lovely as ever, Barbeau is surrounded by third-rate performers, a lacklustre script, a miniscule budget, and plodding direction. It is a shame to say, but the only "real" highlights of the film are seeing Ms. Barbeau topless. The years truly have been kind to her, for she is a sight to behold. Unless you wish to satisfy some minor voyeuristic needs, leave Open House just open.....and empty.

Real estate plus murder. I'm a great fan of kooky combinations in my slasher cinema, so Open House automatically had a leg up for me, being a tale of Adrienne Barbeau menaced both by an ass-hole rival and a serial killer taking out her various contemporaries. By and large though, it operates just a click or two above the majority of late 80's slasher trash, which is to say that no one outside of slasher geeks should feel any compulsion to check it out, but those who do may well value it above say, Iced or Fatal Pulse. Standard plotting, we have a lady estate agent amongst the murders of her comrades, attached to a radio psychiatrist troubled after a suicide but possessor perhaps of a link to the villainous culprit. There are murders, house selling, radio scenes and so forth, building to a fairly effective climax and interesting motive boasting a modicum of legitimate social interest. Mostly this is standard trash, but it holds together a little better than a lot of its era. For one, the kills are nicely spaced throughout the film, there are a fair number and the film allots a good length to several, allowing for a nice build up of suspense and at times a fun helping of minor sleaze (yessum, there be boobs). Not much gore in this party, but there are a few after the event corpses and some OK bloodshed, moreover the kills are generally competently and even amusingly constructed, making for a fairly worthy ride. Acting is typically variable but important parties do OK, Barbeau gives her all as well as brief nudity, a strong and likable turn. Joseph Bottoms isn't up to much as her boyfriend but he hardly embarrasses himself, while Barry Hope is effectively seedy as the ass-hole of the piece. There isn't much to impress here, with the few genuinely good ideas a little ill used and a vague sense of boredom often sliding in between active moments but somehow things tend to pull through, nothing too much in the way of flair or incompetence but the bright spots here and there are rather cool. All in all this is another of those films that are only at all worth watching for serious slasher geeks and I wouldn't recommend it to anyone else, but for those who have to see it it surely won't make you want to gouge your eyes out in the same manner as some of its fellows.