August 31, 1986: Dangerously unhinged serial killer Johnathan Glick gets released from the Nevada State Penitentiary on a technicality. Three days after his release Johnathan arrives in Las... See full summary »
When the staff inside a renovated film studio finds a co-worker dead one morning, the pieces of a forty year puzzle add up to an angry ghost who has let the last person step inside her house. But will they ever get out alive?
August 31, 1986: Dangerously unhinged serial killer Johnathan Glick gets released from the Nevada State Penitentiary on a technicality. Three days after his release Johnathan arrives in Las Vegas, Nevada. Naturally, Johnathan decides to embark on another murderous rampage that came to be known as "The Glitter Gulch Holocaust". Written by
a dumbed-down, disappointing sequel to a great slasher flick
I have to say that I loved Ray Dennis Steckler's "Hollywood Strangler Meets the Skid Row Slasher," and was pretty excited to get my hands on this so-called sequel. Unfortunately, even with about four decades of poverty-row filmmaking under his belt, 'ol Ray hasn't gotten any better at wielding a fine-tuned script. "Las Vegas Serial Killer" marks the return of Jonathan Glick (played once again by Pierre Agostino), as some ridiculous circumstances release him from prison (funny, I thought he looked pretty dead at the end of "Hollywood Strangler"), only for him to wreak havoc on the homely females of Las Vegas (the 'dancers' in this flick are pretty frightening and out-of shape). Meanwhile, two dumb biker types are zipping around Vegas in their red car, commenting on women's legs in between bouts of purse-snatching & robbery; throughout this exercise in futility, I was hoping Glick and the bikers would somehow tie into each other, and they do, in one of the most preposterous endings I've ever seen. This standard-issue Steckler experience seems to have been shot, with a plot (if it can be called that) inserted in post-production, where a radio commentator tries to string a nonsensical chain of events together (in one lame scene, the music on the radio continues to play even as the narrator interrupts with a 'news flash'); characters don't speak unless their backs are to the camera or they're off-screen altogether (this gets very irritating very quickly), not that anything they say is relevant. Despite the stupid plot and ridiculous ending, there are some positive aspects to this low-budget mess: Steckler's Zapruder-esque cinematography is still raw and fascinating to watch (though the movie often threatens to turn into a LV travelogue), with a penchant for tourist attractions and parades; Agostino has a definite presence as the Glick, and to see him working in a pizza parlor is a laugh riot (though is it conceivable that every woman he meets would want to 'do' him?). But a major component of this film's failure is a lack of Carolyn Brandt, who played the "Skid Row Slasher" of the original and had a charisma and sex appeal that none of the characters in this film can even approach. As a fan of "Hollywood Strangler," this movie is a huge disappointment, and for non-fans, it's bound to be much worse.
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