ROCKTOBER BLOOD

Directed by Beverly Sebastian. United States. 1984.

I think the worst thing about being a horror fan is that people automatically assume you listen to heavy metal music. I find that offensive. I don’t listen to heavy metal. In fact, I’d rather listen to puppies suffocating. It just sounds like noise to me. I find the deep, growling vocals to be cringe, and the occult or Satanic imagery to be, well, even more cringe. The heavy metal aesthetic isn’t just a turn-off; it’s an ipecac. It makes me want to Vomit Forth.

At least eight of you got that joke. That’s eight too many.

I guess I should be more specific with my usage of the term ‘heavy metal’ as people might think I’m lumping System of a Down in with - give me a second while I Google - Abominator, Necrowretch, or Dimmu Borgir. Rest assured, I am not. I don’t even know what the fuck a Dimmu Borgir is. I like System of a Down. I can understand the words they say and can pick out individual instruments instead of everything sounding like I crammed an entire Walmart into an industrial grinder. I’m talking about stuff called ‘black metal’ or ‘death metal’. My friend Mike tells me black metal can be melodic and that death metal can be symphonic. That’s like saying diarrhea can be a weight loss tool. It’s possible, sure, but I lack the conviction to find out. You may say I’m basing my dismissal of an entire swath of music on a bucketful of bad experiences, but I’d say you’re fucking right I am. Deal with it.

ROCKTOBER BLOOD is about an even worse kind of metal: glam metal. The film opens with Billy singing a song called Rainbow Eyes in falsetto as he stands in front of a pretty drawing of a palm tree. Fucking metal, baby. Grrr. Once the recording session is over, Billy heads out for a hot date, while an unseen assailant lays waste to a couple of studio engineers and assaults Billy’s girlfriend, Lynn. A security guard accidentally rescues Lynn, and the killer is revealed to be none other than Billy. How did Billy go from effeminate lead singer to psycho killer? We’ll find out eventually. Let’s just say the twist worked better in BLOOD RAGE.

It’s a year later. Billy was executed for murdering 25 rock n’ rollers and the two engineers we saw at the beginning. I have a question. When the fuck did he bump off those 25 people?! He was only gone for five minutes. Did he have a grenade or two in his pockets? What did he do, sabotage a Ferris wheel or something? Why didn’t we get to see that? Freddy Krueger has an on-screen body count of 62 victims. Billy racked up 44% of that victim count in under five minutes. Gold star for Billy. Holy shit.

The band is back together. They’re now called Head Mistress, a more appropriate name with Lynn as the new lead singer. We meet Lynn at a promotional event for her upcoming tour. She tells us the stage show is totally radical. It has blood, smoke, and out-of-this-world special effects. We don’t get to see any of that. All we see is a guy in a gorilla mask breakdancing. Hail Satan, indeed. Lynn is told to meet her manager, Chris, backstage. Lynn heads off to meet him, only to discover Billy, alive and cackling like an idiot. The scene cuts. Chris finds Lynn cowering in a corner. She tells him what she saw, but he doesn’t believe her. I wish he did. The movie would have been shorter.

Next thing I know, we’re in the mountains. Lynn is out and about, enjoying nature. While taking pictures of the wildlife, she hears a strange whispering noise that sounds suspiciously like Billy’s trademark cackle. Understandably freaked out, Lynn hauls ass out of there, only to trip and fall. She looks up at something off camera and screams… and we immediately cut to a close-up of sweaty, jiggling ass. Two girls in workout gear are jumping in place to the melodic sounds of glam metal. Lynn enters, saying she saw Billy. No one believes her. But also, no one seems all that bothered by the fact that their friend keeps seeing a dead guy. Wouldn’t you be worried? Isn’t that kind of thing indicative of a mental breakdown? They treat it like it’s not a troubling thing to hear come out of your friend’s mouth, especially a friend who has survived a vicious attack from the mass murderer she’s now claiming to see all over the place.

Unfortunately for everyone around Lynn, she’s not insane. Billy really is stalking her. But how could that be? Well, allow me to fast-forward 20 goddamn minutes and spoil the movie for you. ‘Billy’ isn’t Billy. It’s John, Billy’s identical twin brother. John wrote all of Billy’s music. He stood in the shadows while his brother donned wigs and rocked out. Billy got the fame. John just got bitter. So he murdered a shit load of people, framing his brother for the crimes. Billy was executed, and now John is back to claim what is rightfully his.

Why didn’t John just kill Billy and assume his identity? Surely, that would have been easier than committing more murders than fucking Jeffrey Dahmer. What an overachiever. I guess we know his answer to the trolley problem. But for a guy who can kill 27 people in the matter of a few minutes, he can’t seem to finish off a chick who constantly drops to her knees in fear every time she gets a look at him.

The middle section of this film is comprised entirely of Lynn stripping nude for a bubble bath, and a woman having her arm chopped off with a hatchet. That’s about it. Oh, and another woman is killed by having a hot iron pressed against her throat. Watching ROCKTOBER BLOOD is a bit like watching the final 45 seconds of PINK FLAMINGOS on a loop for 90 minutes, only the person really eating shit is you. Watch something else, dummy.

This is some of the worst slop the 80s slasher film has to offer, interminably boring and utterly devoid of anything entertaining. I’ve seen people claim this movie is ‘so bad, it’s good’, which is like saying that a movie is ‘so watermelon, it’s couch’. Like, those words clearly mean nothing to you. ‘Good’ and ‘bad’ don't apply here. This movie isn’t ‘good’ or ‘bad’. It’s just ROCKTOBER BLOOD, something so awful it’s incomprehensible to mankind. This movie is cosmic horror levels of abysmal. It should be chasing someone around the streets of Arkham, Massachusettes. If Father Karras put this shit on the TV, Pazuzu would have just flown the fuck on out of there. Watching it helped me understand why some whales beach themselves. Sometimes, dead is better.

If the alternative is watching this garbage, offer me up to the Wendigo in the woods and bury my ass in the PET SEMETARY. Actually, don’t. I don’t want to come back as the kind of evil fuck who would show an unsuspecting friend ROCKTOBER BLOOD. Just leave my corpse in a Target bathroom or something. It’s still more dignified than watching this shit.