A downcast member of a rock band sits in a bar, recalling his road trip with a group of friends, one of whom was touched with extrasensory perception. Their relaxing getaway was interrupted by spirits of Confederate soldiers in desperate need of human help to free their tormented souls.
NIGHT OF HORROR is a cataclysmically poor film on every level imaginable, and the mind boggles as to how this minutiae of provisions could possibly have received even scant video distribution. Unappealing people doing nothing to speak of...that is the whole of this Godforsaken nonmovie. Just to hint at what a slop-job of amateur immersion it is, understand that a lengthy duration is filmed with a dust-bunny sticking to the camera lens, obscuring a sizable portion of the screen(though not nearly enough of it). The sound and lighting appear to have been supervised by Helen Keller, the sets are just a pathetic scramble of whatever fundamentals happened to be on-hand, and most importantly.... WHERE IS THE "HORROR"? A couple of Southern Graybacks in the blaze of a flashlight, and a single plaster skull? There's absolutely nothing...no bloodshed, no atmosphere, not even a single boob to enliven this rudderless dumpster fire. All you get with this nothing-burger is a long stretch of coarse home movie footage showing some southern-fried annual Civil War battle reenactment, set to the tune of a nerve-raking folk ballad. I could go on forever about this movie...it's so boundlessly awful that it nearly qualifies as an act of aesthetic terrorism.
My rating? "The Finger".