Joe Bob's Drive-In: The Evilmaker

The simple ones are always better. All you need for a great horror flick are a house in the woods, a monster and a girl.

In the case of John Bowker's ultra-low-budget "The Evilmaker," we've got four girls -- even better.

I'm actually surprised there aren't more terrified-girls-on-vacation-from-hell movies. Usually, when the party animals go into the woods, they go in pairs, a la "Friday the 13th" and "The Evil Dead." But there's something about the GOOFINESS of four squealing girls in the same house that makes for a supremely satisfying slasher.

I don't know what they're putting in the Oregon water -- besides spawning salmon -- but this is about the fifth great creepshow to come out of the Pacific Northwest lately, and the Oregon woods are REAL woods, not like that scraggly stuff out of Texas.

The house they found looks like it's at the end of the world, and even though the serial killer doesn't show his face very often, Bowker manages to load us up with strobe effects, supernatural possession, and one of those bass-opera-singer-in-a-coffee-can voices to create the needed scarification.

What the story APPEARS to be is a group of girlfriends driving to the coast on a mission to cheer up the recently divorced slinky redhead Serena. But their car APPEARS to break down, and they APPEAR to seek refuge in an unoccupied house at the end of a dead-end road.

So far so good. What's REALLY happening is that ... uh ... I'm not quite sure, but I know that somebody got killed with an ax, rose from the dead in ghoul form, and his body parts got tied up in a burlap bag and tossed into a tin drainage culvert that just HAPPENS to be next door to the house where the girls are guzzling bourbon and bump-dancing in the parlor.

There's also a high-pitched piercing sound that can send any girl at any moment into the throes of agonized writhing on the floor, followed by flashback sequences, descents into hell, and supernatural transformations into breast-enhancing nightie wear. The Grim Reaper shows up -- I mean, LITERALLY, the Grim Reaper shows up -- and he's apparently a disembodied ghoul ax-murder victim, complete with his own Ax of Vengeance. Then again, he might just be a garden-variety ax murderer. I'm not too sure. All I know is that you've got a WHOLE heck of a lot of screaming, squealing, chasing, ax-grappling -- have you ever noticed that an ax is one of the LEAST efficient killing weapons, in spite of its popularity? -- and an all-round Bimbo-Splattering Jubilee.

Like I say, it's Oregon. And I don't mean wine-spritzer Portland. We're talking Corvallis. Everybody dies at least once. My kinda flick!

Let's take a look at those drive-in totals. We've got:

Eight dead bodies. Eleven breasts. Husband-chopping. One suicide attempt. Supernatural headache attacks. Invisible face-slapper. Two catfights, with hair-pulling. Close-up barfing. Skeleton-in-the-mirror attack. Ax to the face. Strangulation. Girlfriend-slicing. Extended chug-contest montage, to the tune of "Our Love Is a No-Win Situation" by Roadkill. Gratuitous group hug. Tarot-card Fu. Slamming-door Fu. Strobe Fu.

Drive-In Academy Award nominations for Stephanie Beaton, as the hot redhead Serena who may or may not be an ax-murdering vixen, for screaming "You hurt me! You deserved to die!"; Felicia Pandolfi, as the sharp-tongued goth girl who says "There's death here! We've gotta leave!"; Arlene Henry, as the romance-novel-loving amateur pole dancer; Dori Schwartz, as the sandwich-scarfing whiskey-quaffing refugee from an insane asylum who says "You must leave now! You must face him in your own world, on your own terms!"; and John Bowker, the writer/producer/director, for doing things the drive-in way.

Three stars. Joe Bob says check it out.

Web site for "The Evilmaker": evilmaker.com.

To reach Joe Bob, go to joebob-briggs.com or email him at [email protected]. Snail-mail: P.O. Box 2002, Dallas, TX 75221.