Chase_Witherspoon

Ted (Fitzgibbons) and Sarah (Peyton) come home to Ted's mum's place for Christmas but Sarah is getting more than Yuletide vibes from his artist mum (Benton) who's apparently a conduit to a supernatural samurai. Sarah's no slouch herself with the supernatural skills, able to inflict telepathic terror via the rhythm of her carnal euphoria, whether self-serviced or in mutual harmony with Ted (which I think is why it's called 'Bloodbeat').

After initial introductions followed by some frigid frisky business, Sarah is welcomed to the family Midwest style with a full camo deer hunt despite her desperate protestations. It's at this point I began to question why Sarah and Ted were ever a couple, and the rest of the film does little to justify their pairing. Mum and partner Gary (Brown) aren't getting along too well either, mum's having visions that cause her painting hand to tremble uncontrollably, whilst Gary's a good old boy who just needs a little affection, finding comfort in his Walkman when mum's too anxious to do the grind. But the domestic troubles pale into insignificance when a sword-wielding samurai begins a rampage on hapless locals.

Pleasant scenery looks like it was shot on cheap videotape, the lighting is appalling, there's an abundance of mumbled gibberish and some questionable performances from an amateur looking cast, yet despite substantial technical limitations, the film has a sinister ambience that's vaguely compelling.

Similar in production value and style to other regional filmmakers like Earl Owensby, Bill Reblane or Greydon Clark, if the lighting was better, it could've been a minor cult favourite, alas it's a little too amateurish for such attention. A splash of nudity (courtesy of Peyton) and plenty of blood-letting served with a helping heaping of plot ambiguity, I'm still not entirely sure what just happened, but I kind of liked it and maybe you will too if you're comfortable in the cheap seats.

I never understood the general vitriol aimed at this film, whilst it doesn't succeed as a serious thriller, as a modest sci-fi it's taut, tense and generally quite compelling. Relatively low-budget but capably handled by director Nelson, it's a film I first caught on late-night television almost forty years ago and it's stayed with me since that time, primarily due to Carrera's intelligent, beguiling performance.

The basic plot finds Grieving Doctor (Hudson) creating freaks in his home laboratory, first a prematurely born Doberman with a murderous streak, then an attractive specimen with a superior intellect played by Carrera.

The cast is a solid mix of experience (Hudson and Ladd in the supporting role as his embittered sister-in-law) and newcomers (Carrera and Schedeen as the bubbly pregnant daughter in law), whilst Roddy McDowall even has a quirky cameo as an egotistical chess player with whom Carrera duels, in a scene that's surprisingly tense and satisfying.

Initially it might appear facile or frivolous and of course the essential plot requirement which has Hudson managing to stop the accelerated ageing of his human foetus experiment just as it reaches the ultra-hot twenty-something form of exotic Carrera is both sensational and hopelessly contrived. Persistence pays however as the second act establishes Carrera's character sympathetically which leads into a prodigious final act that's well worth the wait.

Uncomfortable at times, there's a sinister (and sometimes cruel) undertow but it's mostly superficial akin to a matinee television movie, except for some brief, darkened toplessness and the last couple of scenes where the violence goes above and beyond small-screen constraints.

Overall, 'Embryo' is a quiet storm that's intelligently paced and ends with an unexpected cliffhanger, made even more memorable by Carrera's natural charisma and acting talent, and much better than its maligned reputation supposes.

The dialogue (or perhaps the dubbing) is atrocious, but Deodarto's formulaic slasher-giallo hybrid is a mildly enjoyable romp featuring some nicely photographed mountain locations which add a touch of sinister ambience to the otherwise predictable format.

Lazy storytelling is somewhat redeemed by the impressive cast boasting names which simply can't be dismissed; Hess, Farmer, Napier, Steiner and Rassimov an exploitation film buff's fantasy team and whilst the first three are plot essential (Steiner & Rassimov are squandered in purely incidental roles) it's the pea-brained college dolts who chew up the majority of the precious screen-time. Profoundly deaf, dumb and blind they blithely wander into the killer's waiting axe, generational victims of the mask-wearing Shaman, a mysterious forest-dweller apparently responsible for the unsolved murders of two teens almost fifteen years earlier.

There's some fairly mild gore (a few severed fingers, bloody impalements mostly in darkness so difficult to discern any graphic detail), plenty of nudity (watch out for a pointless and unwelcome pickle shot), but it's very repetitive and predictable with an unimaginative, ambiguous ending.

Deodarto has disappointingly phoned-in this bland effort, Hess, Farmer, Napier, Steiner, Rassimov and himself a chimera of unrealised potential in what should've been exploitation utopia, instead just a passable slasher pic only memorable for the talents of those it wastes.