Flesh For The Beast (2002)

Dir: Terry M. West

A group of scruffy, disposable paranormal experts are called in to investigate supernatural activity in a haunted house. The house has a creepy owner called Stoker (ha) who's patently hiding something but he offers good pay if the team can cast the evil spirits from his home. The result of this, following half an hour of endless wandering the corridors (lit mostly by actors with flashlights - nrrgh), is that our heroes encounter a bunch of naked sirens who turn into rubber-faced ghoulies when provoked. Although the viewer gets treated to copious nudity and several zillion gallons of cartoony, El Cheapo gore (think Fulci on a shoestring - intestinal tract upchuck and all), the script isn't original or interesting enough to sustain interest in the interim. It plods. The dialogue is often clunky and feels full of lines primarily written more for the trailer than the film itself ("Where are we going?" / "Into the bowels of Hell!" etc). The structure is very rigidly set in the tried-and-tested formula, which means all the chat is fairly incidental anyway, half-baked justifications for the next sex/death scene. Granted, you could do way worse than this for your buck, but it's disappointingly generic stuff nonetheless. **