30 minutes in, and The Toolbox Murders is shaping up to be one of the greatest exploitation movies in cinema history: four sexy women, all living on the same apartment complex, are violently butchered by their power-tool wielding, ski-mask wearing landlord (Cameron Mitchell, playing yet another nut-job). Victim number one is dispatched via electric drill; number two gets a claw hammer to the skull; unlucky lady number three is stabbed with a screwdriver; and number four gets plugged with a nail-gun (but not until she has finished rubbin' her nubbin in the batha rather explicit and very memorable turn by future porn-star Kelly Nichols).
Unfortunately, after this excellent start, director Dennis Donnelly slows things down a touch in order to try and tell a story, and the rest of the film never quite manages to regain the intensity (or sleaze factor) of the opening scenes. That's not to say that you should give up watching after half an hour, it's just that the best bits are definitely packed in at the beginning.
The next time the lunatic attacks, he doesn't kill; instead, he abducts pretty 15-year old Laurie Ballard (Pamelyn Ferdin). In his confused mental state, he believes her to be his dead daughter (who died after getting involved with 'undesirables') and wishes to preserve her innocence by keeping her tied up at his place. After all, he doesn't want her ending up like all of the 'wicked' women that he has been disposing of, does he?
From this point on, the film becomes much more of a psychological horror/suspense movie, as a terrified Laurie lays bound to a bed whilst her brother Joey (Nicolas Beauvy) tries to find out what has happened to his little sis, with the 'help' of Kent, his nutty landlord's equally nutty nephew.
And although nothing in the latter part of the film quite matches the grisly sensationalist and misogynistic action to be witnessed in the opening scenes, Donnelly doesn't entirely forget that this is an exploitation flick, and sees fit to include a rather nasty moment in which Joey is burnt to death, and another which sees poor Laurie raped by her brother's killer (this occurs off-screen, but still leaves a nasty taste in the mouth).
The Toolbox Murders is a classic grind-house slasher which I thoroughly recommend to like-minded gore-hounds and lovers of trashy horror everywhere. 7.5 out of 10, rounded up to 8 for IMDb.
Unfortunately, after this excellent start, director Dennis Donnelly slows things down a touch in order to try and tell a story, and the rest of the film never quite manages to regain the intensity (or sleaze factor) of the opening scenes. That's not to say that you should give up watching after half an hour, it's just that the best bits are definitely packed in at the beginning.
The next time the lunatic attacks, he doesn't kill; instead, he abducts pretty 15-year old Laurie Ballard (Pamelyn Ferdin). In his confused mental state, he believes her to be his dead daughter (who died after getting involved with 'undesirables') and wishes to preserve her innocence by keeping her tied up at his place. After all, he doesn't want her ending up like all of the 'wicked' women that he has been disposing of, does he?
From this point on, the film becomes much more of a psychological horror/suspense movie, as a terrified Laurie lays bound to a bed whilst her brother Joey (Nicolas Beauvy) tries to find out what has happened to his little sis, with the 'help' of Kent, his nutty landlord's equally nutty nephew.
And although nothing in the latter part of the film quite matches the grisly sensationalist and misogynistic action to be witnessed in the opening scenes, Donnelly doesn't entirely forget that this is an exploitation flick, and sees fit to include a rather nasty moment in which Joey is burnt to death, and another which sees poor Laurie raped by her brother's killer (this occurs off-screen, but still leaves a nasty taste in the mouth).
The Toolbox Murders is a classic grind-house slasher which I thoroughly recommend to like-minded gore-hounds and lovers of trashy horror everywhere. 7.5 out of 10, rounded up to 8 for IMDb.