Sanglant voyage scolaire

Very much a film of slashed throats and ripped off blouses, Killer's Moon bluntly punctuated what was a rather dismal year for British horror movies (think The Cat and the Canary, Dominique and The Legacy). Its exactly the sort of film a minor sexploitation director dragging a cast of nobodies into the Lake District for an inept hotchpotch of A Clockwork Orange, The Texas Chainsaw Massacre and Please Sir would make. Four homicidal maniacs Mr Smith, Mr Jones, Mr Muldoon and Mr Trubshaw all modelled on A Clockwork Orange's droogs escape from a cottage asylum into the Lake District. Since they've all been treated on LSD dream therapy, they believe everything to be a dream and thus feel free to indulge in drug fuelled sex and murder fantasies. Coincidences find a bunch of 70's sitcom characters as potential fodder for them -an American jogger, a bunch of campers, the Scottish gamekeeper, the Cockney bus driver `they're all mard round ‘ere', the pompous school-marm and a busload of dubious schoolgirls. When the schoolgirl's bus breaks down on the way to a choir contest they're forced to stay in an off season hotel run by an elderly eccentric while outside minor characters stumble off to their deaths `why would anyone kill a gamekeeper with an axe?'. When the maniacs come out of the shadows to siege the hotel they are revealed as the most unashamedly over the top hams since the days of Tod Slaughter, they're really into the proceedings, cackling, growling and grimacing and are soon desperate to get their drug addled paws on the schoolgirls, who despite being cast in the St Trinian mode of carrying teddies and being prone to renditions of Greensleeves are nothing more than Wardour Street starlets cast mainly for glamour nudity. Most of the enjoyment though has to come from the dialogue thats looks as if it was written under the same treatment as its psychopaths. Watch as RADA never weres tackle gems of un-pc dialogue like `look you were only raped if you don't tell anyone about it you'll be alright' and `if we ever get out of this alive well maybe we'll both live to be be wives and mothers'. Amidst the sex and violence, Killer's Moon gradually transforms into a twisted music hall pantomime with girlies chased around the hotel, the help of Hannah the three-legged dog, a transvestite escape plan and one of the maniacs lamenting `why can't I dream of steak and chips, why does it have to be bread and cheese?'- all delivered with a serious candour which must have been hard for a movie that weds its carnage to acid-jazz renditions of `twinkle twinkle little star' and `three blind mice'. Produced in the dying days of the British film industry Killer's Moon really is cheap with the worse editing imaginable, a matte Lake district, while day and night shots are mixed and matched, its hard to believe that the film had a cinema release but it did (in August 1978). The acting is mostly foul as befits the cast of nobodies although living up to the unwritten law `show me a British actor/actress and I'll show you the 70's sex/horror film they'd like to forget', old hams and future soap stars (ie Jo- Anne Good who ended up in Crossroads) can be found if you look hard enough. Killer's Moon scores high with surprisingly strong exploitation elements. The token peek a boo nudity is expected, given Birkinshaw's background but scenes of 25ish year old `schoolgirls' abused by mental patients seem genuinely unhealthy. Screenwriter/Director (the late?) Alan Birkinshaw was indeed one of the more cheaper celluloid barrow boys. His previous film had been Confessions of a Sex Maniac (1975) a low budget skinflick about a Woody Allen-esque architect with a breast fetish who feels obliged to erect a building in honour of his obsession. After the axe came down on UK low-budget film production like Gerry O'Hara he flew to South Africa and hooked up with infamous producer Harry Alan Towers- Birkinshaw's work for Towers manifested in some Poe adaptations are widely reviled. Birkinshaw is also largely believed responsible for the shocking gore sequences tagged on to Don't Open Till Christmas. Managing to keep out of the reference books ever since its initial release, Killer's Moon now enjoys a mini revival in the UK, mainly due to the fact that the filmmaking is more fumbled than some of the victims. Killer's Moon does have great trouble with whose been murdered and who hasn't, famously a main character disappears halfway through the film only to appear as a corpse in the final shot as if an afterthought. Yet interest in Killer's Moon isn't just for laughs but also genuine nostalgia, looking back from a time of the dearth of truly eccentric British films the era of Killer's Moon seems a long time ago. Killer's Moon remains as sleazy and British as a night time trip down Soho, the quintessential bottom half of a fleapit cinema double bill, remember `blood on the moon, one mangled dog, one missing axe, and one lost girl who just found a body at the wrong end of the axe- how's that for the great English outdoors'.

"Quite possibly the sleaziest film ever made in Britain". These aren't my words but a quote from a certain I.Q. Hunter, who's a respectable author and acclaimed cult cinema expert. Mr. Hunter was a guest at the local film festival in my country and provided this film – as well as a few other flamboyant British horror outings – with an interesting foreword. This man surely knows what he talks about and I definitely enjoyed listening to the trivia items that he shared with the audience, but I'm really not sure if I agree with this review's opening statement. "Killer's Moon" is a sleazy piece of work, no argument there, but I still don't think it compares to – for example - "House of Whipcord", "Prey" or "Inseminoid". What struck me most about "Killer's Moon" is how much better and more significant it easily could have been… This film doesn't necessarily require a bigger budget, nor a more professional cast or even more action/atmosphere. It already has everything, only a slightly more skillful direction and a bit of coherence in the script would have been welcome. The ramshackle bus of a school of choir girls and their two uptight teachers breaks down in the middle of the godforsaken English countryside, and they are forced to spend the night in a castle-hotel that normally is closed for the season. Not a problem, you'd think, except for the fact that four escaped asylum patients are at large in the area. As a result of oddball drug-experiments, these four are high on LSD and under the impression they tripping around in a dream. They break into the hotel and joyously begin raping, murdering and philosophizing, whilst the shrinking group of girls seeks the help of two tough campers. It's a rather preposterous and laughable to assume that mental patients are fed LSD as treatment, let alone that they can freely run around without any kind of authorities searching for them. There are numerous of other improbabilities in the script, like characters suddenly vanishing and that sort of stuff, but I advise not to let them bother you too much. Furthermore "Killer's Moon" is stuffed with gratuitous nudity and "incorrect" misogynic dialogs ("you were only raped, as long as you don't tell anyone about it you'll be alright. You just pretend it never happened"), like a truly rancid product of the late 70's ought to be! Writer/director Alan Birkinshaw's decision to dress up the four lunatics and let them behave exactly like Alex DeLarge and his companions in "A Clockwork Orange" is either a funny homage or a shameless imitation, I don't know. My guess is that it was just a silly idea that popped up in his mind, like the heroic three-legged dog.

Four criminal psychopaths undergoing LSD therapy (!) that escaped from a lunatic asylum. A group of stranded schoolgirls lodged in a mansion/castle. The four psychos will make their way to the girls through a string of murders. When they meet the girls, there will be a massacre - rape and murder.

"Killer's Moon", story wise, is the exploitation buff's dream, but there's no real nudity (just some bits of flesh), sex is more suggested than shown, and there's violence (not very explicit) but no gore. But this isn't really important because the story is violent and sleazy.

"Killer's Moon" may not be a great film but I've quite enjoyed it - besides having a good story, it's ironic, involuntarily funny and bizarre (suffice it to mention the three-legged dog!).

Recommended for those who love the 70s exploitation films.

Drugs, psychopathic criminals, underage sex - it's all going on in this low-budget British shocker. One of the schoolgirls is played by Jane Haydon, sister of horror legend Linda (most famous perhaps for her role as Angel Blake in 'Blood on Satan's Claw').

A busload of stranded girls spend the night in an unfinished hotel 'in the wilds of nowhere', where nearby asylum inmates, tanked up with LSD as part of their experimental therapy, escape and cause horrific carnage.

The escaped inmates' atrocities are very much in the style of the ultra-violence on display in 'The Clockwork Orange', where this film takes a lot of its cues - especially main escapee Mr. Trubshawe (David Jackson - possibly most famous for playing Gan early on in BBC TV space opera Blake's 7). Apart from the subject matter being distinctly unsavoury, there is a lack of pace to the proceedings.

Some of dialogue is alarming. "See - you're better," one girl assures her friend who has just been raped, when she accepts a cup of coffee.

With all this going on, events are surprisingly slow and turgid. Never quite aspiring to the disturbing levels of 'A Clockwork Orange', this is ultimately an average rip-off. My score is 5 out of 10.

A staggeringly dull and inept horror film, which amazingly enjoyed a national UK cinema release during 1978. Standards must have been lower then.

The inane premise has a busload of schoolgirls meandering bafflingly through the wilds of the Lake District en route to Scotland (why aren't they going up the motorway?) They and their teachers are terrorised by four psychopaths who escaped while being given experimental drug therapy at a cottage hospital (!). You would expect the fells to be knee-deep in police searching for such obviously dangerous characters, but not one is seen until the end, when a patrol car trundles into view.

Even allowing for such illogicalities, the potential is there for crude shocks but director Birkinshaw blows it entirely. Potentially suspenseful scenes are completely bungled and little dramatic use is made of the Lake District setting. The clumsy dialogue and sub-Clockwork Orange posturings of the psychopaths make parts of the film more laughable than terrifying. However, the "National Health Service psychiatrist line" is hilarious and few other horror films feature a moving eulogy to a three-legged dog!