Beefy, plug-ugly character actor Nicholas ("Swamp Thing," "Darkman") Worth hits marvelously messed-up maniacal mondo disgusto wacko paydirt with his juicy starring role as Kirk Smith, an impotent, psychotic, misogynistic, schizophrenic and utterly unhinged 'Nam vet rapist/strangler photographer who viciously murders assorted luckless lovely young ladies in this terrifically tawdry'n'trashy low-budget Los Angeles-set exploitation psycho horror howler. Crying, bellowing, hefting heavy weights in grunting'n'grueling slow motion, insanely ranting over the phone to female talk radio shrink Dr. Gale (the very pretty and appealing Flo Garrish) in a hysterically phony'n'fulsome Mexican accent, and savagely throttling hot babes with a coin-filled stocking in a warped, desperate attempt at appeasing his deceased abusive father (Worth's single most sublimely screwy moment occurs when he cuts loose in a massive let it all hang out rant and roars in a monstrous scream, "Are you proud of me now?! Do I measure up?!"), Nic's gloriously gonzo eye-rolling hambone portrayal is an absolute hoot and a half that's in equal degrees hellishly riveting and rather uncomfortably riotous. James Westmoreland gives a similarly strong performance as the ramrod homicide detective who's determined to nail Kirk, a hard-nosed sort with a brutish and fiercely amoral "you gotta bend the law in order to enforce it" attitude that makes Dirty Harry seem like a soft'n'sappy bleeding heart liberal (and nicely blurs the fine line between good and evil as well). Better still, writer/director/producer Robert Hammer goes whole hog on the seedy atmosphere, really pours on the gratuitous nudity, graphic violence and full-bore profanity, and doesn't show a shred of either subtlety or restraint, thereby making this sensationally slimy, gritty and downright nihilistic grindhouse nugget a total tacky treat for hardcore sleaze cinema buffs.