FATAL PULSE (1988)
Directed by Anthony J. Christopher
Celebrity Home Video VHS
Reviewed 01.26.06
Review by Joseph A. Ziemba

THE FILM
When Fatal Pulse ended, I became frightened. I couldn't remember what day it was. In haste, I ran through the multiplication tables. After "6 x 9," it was a blank. Not a good sign. Then I pulled Steinbeck's The Log From The Sea Of Cortez off the shelf. God, no...it was TOTAL GIBBERISH! This was serious. Fatal Pulse was a succubus of intelligence and I was the latest victim.

You want to get real? Sorority house. Black gloved killer. Tons of weird boobs. Transcendental comic relief. Workout scenes. Death by vinyl LP. Incredibly gay-in-real-life-but-total-stud-in-the-film hero. 'Nam vet, played by Joe Estevez. After sex thank you card. Martin Mayo. Yes, but who is Martin Mayo?

The credit of "Musical Score Composed by" lists the name Martin Mayo. However, the post production facility obviously messed that up. The credit should have read, "Virtuoso Einstein In A Sea Of Tone Deaf Philistines." Once you hear the aesthetic strains of Mayo's Guitar Center meets Right Said Fred magnum opus, your concept of "music" will forever be altered. Now, it should all be coming in clearer for you.

Fatal Pulse is insane. Little more than a showcase for sweaty boobs and the talents of comic relief character "Mark" (you'll know he's coming, thanks to the "BOING!" sound effect, novelty baseball cap, and "WHAT IT IS?" t-shirt), this is 80s stupidity at its most pasteurized apex. When the sorority house killings begin, the girls do not vacate the premises. When the 'Nam vet has flashbacks, he hears the screams of a baby. When tough/fat guy "Brad" makes a threat, you can bet your three foot spiked mullet he f-in means it. I won't even mention the Captain Marvelous scene.

Right around the hour mark, Fatal Pulse ground to a halt and forced the eyelids closed. After the bombardment of musical genius Martin Mayo, comedic genius Mark, and an imbecilic cast of dozens, who the hell cares?

AUDIO AND VIDEO
I've never heard of Celebrity Home Video, but they sure knew their stuff. The picture was clean and free of defects, while the soundtrack was in glorious stereo. The tape itself was spotless. Experts.

EXTRAS
Trailer: The Order Of The Black Eagle. Catch phrase: "Move over, Mr. Bond!" That's all you need to know. Also, the Celebrity logo montage (static screen, bawling guitars) brought real, tangible tears to my eyes.

FINAL THOUGHTS
Simply put, Fatal Pulse is a must see. Trash slashers rarely hit such heights of brainless hilarity. Was it all a joke? Was director Anthony J. Christopher sincere? A raving lunatic? Find out for yourself. BOING!

No one can save him now


Oh baby


Vintage vinyl


Tough tubbies