New Amsterdam, 1686: evil witch Eva (LeeAnne Baker) interrupts the marriage of Dawn (Jacquie Fitz) and William (Michael Conte), psychically summoning the virgin bride to a Satanic altar to be sacrificed in a ritual that would grant Eva eternal life. Dawn's throat is cut, but before the ceremony can be completed, Eva is killed by priest Henry (William K. Reed).
300 years later, and Eva, reincarnated as a peroxide-blonde punk biker chick with bad make-up, proceeds to suck the life energy from unfortunate New Yorkers to feed to her mouldy zombie acolytes (via her three sets of ectoplasm-oozing tits!); once fully revived, these manky minions seek out the reincarnation of Dawn, so that the witch can finish what she has started. Can Italian cop Billy and do-gooder Rev. James, the 20th century reincarnations of William and Henry, prevent her from succeeding?
Six breasts are better than two, as the old saying goes, but even with its triple-chested, zombie-suckling witch bitch, Necropolis proves to be a frustratingly dull slice of 80s schlock horror, with a dreadful script and uninspired direction from Bruce Hickey, and dire performances all round. There are, of course, a few giggles to be had from the sheer ineptitude of proceedings—Baker's embarrassingly bad impromptu interpretive dance routines are good for a laugh, as is the bloody decapitation of a zombie that continues to scream long after his noggin has gone—but when you're not sniggering, you'll probably be yawning.
3.5 out of 10, generously rounded up to four for IMDb.
