I love myself some slasher movies, I mean I really like them. I’ll watch them relentlessly, I’ll watch them religiously and I’ll watch them erectifijizziously. They’re all the same – I know that. But I couldn’t give a wet slut for a flying fuck about it. I enjoy them immensely.
Especially 80s ones. They’re the best ones.
Which is why I was gosh darn bum pulsingly excited when they finally released The Prowler uncut in the U.K (albeit with the shitty alternative title – Rosemary’s Killer). Along with My Bloody Valentine (which I have but am yet to watch – seen the fucking remake though and it’s WICKED), The Prowler is highly regarded as one of the best slashers made during the ’80s boom. That’s not the boom my arse made during its first shit in the ’80s, it’s the boom of all the millions of cheap slashers that were made during the ’80s in the wake of the popularity of films like Friday the 13th.
So obviously I was pretty fucking pumped to see The Prowler – but was it as good as I had hoped?
DOES A PRICK SHIT IN THE SINK?
It was quality of the highest crisps.
The film follows one of those classic slasher storylines – something bad happens in the past; it becomes an urban legend; we cut to the present; nobody apart from maybe one bloke who’s really paranoid about the whole thing believes it anymore; then uh oh whatever bad thing happened in the past has come back to fuck everyone’s lives up once more; and then there are some sex scenes and tits and shit.
In this case, it’s 1945 and there’s a graduation dance going on and a load of G.Is and their hot girlfriends are dancing and smooching and gee, isn’t this nice-ing when suddenly some fuckwince in full combat get-up sidles over and pitchforks a young couple to death. So prom’s ruined basically.
Anyway, cut to 1980 and there hasn’t been a graduation dance since pitchfork-gate but I know what a good idea would be let’s have a graduation dance even though this is a horror film don’t worry nothing bad will happen chill the fuck out you squares.
Wait, who’s that bloke over there in full combat-get-up with a pitchfork?
Oops, probably shouldn’t have had the dance what with the pitchfork bloke having an aversion to graduation dances. Dammit, now pitch-twat and his pitch-fuck is running about killing everyone jeez I wish we hadn’t had that dance probably should have listened to that bloke who was saying we shouldn’t have it oh well next time I’ll know not to have a graduation dance if there is a next time anyway hahaha only joking of course there’ll be a next ti – *PITCHFORK IN THE NUTS*
What makes The Prowler stand out from the crowd is Tom Savini (as per) and his amazing special FX. Everything he puts his hands on turns to gold (well, red gold with intestines flying out of it, anyway). When it comes to gore effects, Savini has never been bettered – he’s an absolute legend, and he fucks it the wank out of the nut-sack in this bitch.
You’d think you wouldn’t be able to come up with many ideas for ingenious uses of a pitchfork, but Savini pulls no punches – the combat-pillock goes absolutely insane and dispatches with the teenagers in as many rank ways as possible. Serves them right for being teenagers, the pricks.
But that’s not all;
THERE IS ALSO A SCENE WHERE YOU CAN SEE SOME TITS THAT BELONG TO A WOMAN WHO IS HAVING A SHOWER.
All in all, The Prowler is a right old sodding piece of sweaty lunch-meat that’ll flip you over the wrong way sideways, and pulse your privates through a whirlwind of chuffing suckers whilst reeming your ponce out with a swift, red-hot chute of creamy, bossman tampons.
I’ll give The Prowler 8 18s out of 10.