THE PROWLER
(UK: Rosemary's Killer)
Aspect ratio: 1.85:1
Sound format: Mono
Just after World War II, a small-town graduation dance is cut short by a gruesome double murder. Thirty-five years later, the dance is reinstated and a killer dressed in military fatigues rampages through the partygoers.
Thrown together on the cheap by director Joseph Zito and debut screenwriters Glenn Leopold and Neal F. Barbera (son of legendary animation producer Joseph Barbera) as a showcase for makeup master Tom Savini, THE PROWLER emerges as a real disappointment. Following a terrific pre-credits sequence (which evokes the post-war period through a combination of soft-focus cinematography and imaginative production design), the movie segues into a by-the-numbers slasher scenario, lacking all but the most rudimentary elements of suspense.
Savini's effects are just as shocking today as they must have seemed in 1981, particularly a mean-spirited twist on the PSYCHO shower murder which revels in the victim's blood-spattered torment. But these effects - which are pretty few and far between - are almost all the film has going for it. Despite a paltry 88 minute running time, the storyline is padded by endless scenes in which the two central characters - a deputy sheriff (Christopher Goutman) and a plucky young partygoer (Vicky Dawson) - wander around various locations (the cemetery, an old house, the college dormitory, etc.) in search of clues to the unfolding mystery, culminating in a mind-numbing sequence involving an unhelpful motel clerk which lasts FOREVER and serves only the flimsiest of narrative purposes!
The young cast are all pretty nondescript, though top-billing is reserved for Farley Granger (a long way from STRANGERS ON A TRAIN!), who provides an extended cameo as the local sheriff. Lawrence Tierney (RESERVOIR DOGS) also receives a major credit, but has no dialogue and is on-screen for less than a minute! Though technically competent, the movie fails to generate a sense of dramatic urgency and relies too heavily on a small number of graphic set-pieces, while Richard Einhorn's tinny music score - played by what sounds like a five-piece orchestra! - does its best to energize the flagging narrative. Recommended for Savini-worshippers and slasher completists only.
(UK: Rosemary's Killer)
Aspect ratio: 1.85:1
Sound format: Mono
Just after World War II, a small-town graduation dance is cut short by a gruesome double murder. Thirty-five years later, the dance is reinstated and a killer dressed in military fatigues rampages through the partygoers.
Thrown together on the cheap by director Joseph Zito and debut screenwriters Glenn Leopold and Neal F. Barbera (son of legendary animation producer Joseph Barbera) as a showcase for makeup master Tom Savini, THE PROWLER emerges as a real disappointment. Following a terrific pre-credits sequence (which evokes the post-war period through a combination of soft-focus cinematography and imaginative production design), the movie segues into a by-the-numbers slasher scenario, lacking all but the most rudimentary elements of suspense.
Savini's effects are just as shocking today as they must have seemed in 1981, particularly a mean-spirited twist on the PSYCHO shower murder which revels in the victim's blood-spattered torment. But these effects - which are pretty few and far between - are almost all the film has going for it. Despite a paltry 88 minute running time, the storyline is padded by endless scenes in which the two central characters - a deputy sheriff (Christopher Goutman) and a plucky young partygoer (Vicky Dawson) - wander around various locations (the cemetery, an old house, the college dormitory, etc.) in search of clues to the unfolding mystery, culminating in a mind-numbing sequence involving an unhelpful motel clerk which lasts FOREVER and serves only the flimsiest of narrative purposes!
The young cast are all pretty nondescript, though top-billing is reserved for Farley Granger (a long way from STRANGERS ON A TRAIN!), who provides an extended cameo as the local sheriff. Lawrence Tierney (RESERVOIR DOGS) also receives a major credit, but has no dialogue and is on-screen for less than a minute! Though technically competent, the movie fails to generate a sense of dramatic urgency and relies too heavily on a small number of graphic set-pieces, while Richard Einhorn's tinny music score - played by what sounds like a five-piece orchestra! - does its best to energize the flagging narrative. Recommended for Savini-worshippers and slasher completists only.