The gory American slash fest epic goes on and on and on and the public never tires of it - it's a very standard formula when you suss it - gorgeous young American babe who is just that little bit different and that little bit lonely, vulnerable, that sort of thing, becomes the object of some weirdo with a fixation on dealing out death and destruction but only after scaring his helpless victim halfway to death and back over several weeks of high pressure stalking and several evenings of frighteningly provocative undress before the big, scary finale with plenty of screaming - Friday the 13th, Halloween, A Nightmare On Elm Street, Scream, they're all the same really, except some have got just that little bit extra style and wit with something just a touch distinctive, but usually by the time you get to Episode 6, 7 or 8, or VI, VII or VIII as they're inevitably daubed, all pretences to art have long since gone and it's just down to milking that lovely old formula for everything there
is with most of these films just being loose and ill thought out vehicles for linking together some highly unlikely set pieces of terror where the vulnerable femme screams her tits off as the lights go out.
Now I just know you know exactly what I mean because you would have had to be dead from the neck up these last twenty or thirty years to have missed out on at least one of these particular types.
The Last Summer series is not really any better or worse than any of the others, even if it's pretty short on uniqueness or wit. It has a typical delivery boy of fear, courtesy of a guy in a mac and sou'wester and a natty line in the use of boathooks, who seems to relish hanging around in the dark and raising from the dead more times than Jason in F13.
The first Summer movie was pretty successful, so in 1998 Jennifer Love Hewitt became the object of old Fisherman Friend's death lust and we were off on another 90+ minutes of thrills, chills, slash and mayhem.
She's off as part of two couples who fly off for a lovely beach holiday competition prize in the picturesque islands off the coast of Whocouldcareless, while back at home the nutter from the sea is back up and running.
There's not exactly a warm welcome from one of the nastiest hotel managers since Mr Twat (pronounced Thwaite) in Guesthouse Paradiso, who gleefully tells them that it's the end of the season so there are going to be few other blessed souls to put a hold on the slasher's fun...
As old Scaredshitless apes Gloria Gaynor and I Will Survive in classic Karaoke stylee, up flashes the 'I know what you did last Summer' blurb on the TV screen, which sends her nuts, although no one else spots the words - how unusual! You see FF is here and waiting for them (why is it all homicidal maniacs have an almost telepathic ability to work out exactly where their chosen victim's have disappeared to and how they will react at any given moment? Surely they could get more gainful employment by going on Who Wants To Be A Millionaire? or Mastermind? Killing people may be fun, but it doesn't pay the bills when you marry a woman who likes a decent life, now do it? And where the hell did he get the plane fare?)
Anyway, inevitably Scaredshitless is left alone in her shower while her chummies are making the best of a jacuzzi downstairs and here come those threatening sawed violins, hinting obliquely at FF SMOEWHERE UNKNOWN IN HER ROOM. There's a couple of false climaxes as her hard nips show through her wet bathrobe and then FF flashes past her back in the bathroom - oh hum, here we go...
Cos that's the secret of these things, a bit of honest titillation, a bit of psychological pressure, problems at night and a bad guy wandering round unseen by anyone else, until in the end we all accept what cannot really be happening.
Never mind, hey, I Still Know What You Did Last Summer is nice and scary, nice and thrilling, nice and watchable with some nice female flash on show as the tension builds. There are worse ways of spending an hour and a half, although there are also a good many better ways.
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Production Year: 2000 - Horror - Director: Keenen Ivory Wayans - Original Language: English - Classification: 18 years and over - Starring: Carmen Electra, Anna Faris, Kurt Fuller, James Van Der Beek, Keenen Ivory Wayans
nice op, I think I compeletly missed to tape this a couple of weeks ago, I hare I am complaining about not seeing enough horror movies, well thriller and crime as the catogory says, though I did watch the birds today, ah well I get round to it sometime, happy christmas. steve
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