My review was written in January 1990 after watching the film on South Gate Entertainment video cassette.
A catchy title fronts for a very boring video feature film, offering nothing in the way of diversion for horror fans.
Bobby Ray Shafer is a bland choice for the title role, a policeman who's a satanist into the antisocial activity of stabbing folks for a blood ritual. Later on we find out he's the product of a broken home and is just posing as a cop.
He terrorizes a bunch of stupid teens, off on a weekend outing at a remote house (as per conry horror genre format). Not much happens except for the clockwork killings, climaxing with the heroine surrounded by her friends who've been literally crucified.
Weakest aspect of Wallace Potts' picture, a presentation from British producer Cassian Elwes, is the set of unfunny witticisms penned for Shafr to say while killing people. Tech credit are unimpressive; gore is the films' sole rasion d'etre.
