Pulsion fatale

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.

Someone is killing nubile sorority girls. At first suspicion falls on the creepy live-in landlord of the sorority house (how many college sorority houses have creepy GUYS living in them--and how can I get a job like that?). Then everyone begins to suspect the boyfriend of the heroine, who was with one of the girl's right before she was killed. The final revelation is pretty ridiculous and veers into the realm of science fiction.

This film is preposterous. The dialogue is ludicrous. The acting is abysmal. The murders are laughable. The only remarkable thing about is the way it manages to aggressively undress all the female cast-members (except the lead, who, of course, is by far the best looking). The female victims are even all naked or topless WHEN they are murdered (except for one girl who has just changed her shirt a few minutes earlier, but is technically dressed at the time). When I first saw this in the early 90's I found it pretty sleazy and offensive, but after watching a lot Italian sleaze and Eurotrash films in recent years, I think I've become to desensitized to stuff like this, and was mainly impressed with the fact that only one of the girls here has obviously fake silicone breasts.

This is one slasher movie that could genuinely be labeled "misogynist" though, and not just because of the gratuitous female nudity. Some of the murder scenes are kind of prolonged. One girl is electrocuted--topless, of course--for several boob-bouncing minutes. Another is tied up and smothered with plaster, which the killer takes time to smear all over her bare breasts for some reason before plastering her face. What really bothered me though was not what the killer did to the females, but what he failed to do to do to two insufferably annoying male characters: "Brad", a New Jersey-accented "punk" tough guy played by an actor who left no scenery unchewed whenever he was on screen, and "Captain Marvin" a dimwitted guy who dresses as a superhero and watches re-runs of "Green Acres" and "Petticoat Junction" (remember these are supposed to be COLLEGE students). I really have to wonder about a movie that strips, murders, and sometimes mildly tortures numerous anonymous bimbos (some of whom never even appear in the film before their death scene), but yet fails to put these two male cretins out of everyone's misery.

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.

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.

I've seen plenty of stupid and utterly worthless slasher flicks,but "Fatal Pulse" manages to be the worst of them all(still I need to see "Blood Lake" and "The Last Slumber Party").It's extremely routine and offers zero surprises.The plot is simple:a black-gloved killer is knocking off sorority sisters...The acting is awful,the gore is non-existent and the killings are lame(the victims are strangled,electrocuted,etc.)However one killing totally cracked me up:unlucky sorority girl has her throat slashed with a record.There is also plenty of nudity to satisfy some teenagers.Avoid this crap like the plague.3 out of 10.Give it a look only if you are a masochist or a rabid collector of low-budget slasher movies.