How Barbara Steele, Tippi Hedren and Kevin McCarthy ever get roped into this disaster is beyond imagination. About a dozen interchangeable airheaded bimbettes self consciously struggle to get by on cleavage as they mumble, mangle and stumble through a witless, boring script. The various male players are likewise strictly Z-list rejects. None of them have a shred of acting talent or screen presence. Combine this with jittery steady cam videography, dimensionless lighting that only enhances the utter cheapness of the sets, and writing that beggars the expectation of anything approaching coherence, and you have The Boneyard Collection. This movie is execrable. I can only compare the experience of watching it to stepping on a large pile of ripe, fragrant dung while wearing open-toed shoes. This IS the worst movie I have ever seen.
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