HONEYMOON HORROR (1982)
Directed by Harry Preston
Sony VHS
Reviewed 10.06.05
Review by Joseph A. Ziemba


THE FILM
When you're talking about a place like Honeymoon Island, you don't discuss logic. Honestly, it's just not done. So when the Sheriff's belt buckle mysteriously pops open and characters talk about other characters they have yet to meet, be loose. Lick a cigar. Lift some weights. Just make sure you don't cross Crazy Joe, the caretaker. After all, "He's a little retarded, but he'd never burn the dock."

Out at the Austin Patio Dude Ranch in Grapevine, Texas, Harry Preston shot his only feature film as a writer/director back in '82. Pardon my french, but goddamn it. Honeymoon Horror gives it to you weird. Really weird. In my book, that's enough to tip the scales. When a dirt-cheap slasher presents several hundred situations that no sane human being could ever hope to conceive in "real life," the party lights hum and the glasses clink. Prepare to wheeze.

Elaine and her lover Vic (or is it Mick? Nick? Dick? Zeke? Wayne? Dwayne?) inadvertently burn her overbearing husband, Tony, to death. The scene is Honeymoon Island, a hotspot that Elaine owned with her charred hubbie. Cut to: now. Three sorority sisters huffing Nitrous (not really, but probably) arrive on Honeymoon Isle to decorate the rooms of their sisters' honeymoon suites. They use cardboard skeletons and banners that read, "Virgins need no urgin'! Married Men Do It Better!" Ain't it the truth. Anyway, there's a big fat Sheriff that licks his cigars all over and wears a onesie uniform. The decorators get replaced with some runny rubber gore and the Honeymooners arrive. We get stuck on dick jokes and make out scenes until burned up Tony finally gets on 'em, complete with his nifty smoker’s hack. It's all fine and dandy, but for godsakes -- leave Crazy Joe alone. A guy can only take being called "retarded" so many times in one day.

Amidst the boring photography and spectacular non-suspense, your mouth will be stuck on automatic gape. The insanely stupid dialogue ("We can live wealth-ily ever after. Tee hee hee..."), the harmonica cues for the sheriff (just so you know it's him), the quick weight lifting session before sex...it's all positively ridiculous. The film starts to stall after that, but picks up again towards the end. Especially when everybody starts making coffee and talking about current events while waiting for the bloody, downbeat climax. There’s even a hideous wig...that moves! Mr. Preston doesn't let you get too down though. The five minute comic relief epilogue will make sure of that.

AUDIO AND VIDEO
What's the deal, Sony? Blurry print, worn colors, schlocky sound? You guys spent too much time planning your video game revolution; not enough on the stuff that really counted.

EXTRAS
See above.

FINAL THOUGHTS
Honeymoon Horror is a ditz. It’s a prime time early 80s slasher with a hint of darkness and buckets of nonsense. Make your reservations waaaay in advance.






Lunchtime dip


DO IT


Everybody Wang Chung tonight


Pee break