There's a scene in A Crack In The Floor where busty beauty Heidi (Daisy McCrackin) accidentally spills her drink down her front—a rather obvious excuse to have the lovely actress whip off her clothes and give us an eyeful. Except that she doesn't. Before she can undo her top, Heidi is interrupted by her irritating boyfriend Lehman (Saved By The Bell's Mario Lopez). It's a moment that pretty much sums up the whole film: a tease.
Barring a few moments of nudity in the film's opening moments, and a fairly fun impalement on a pitchfork early on, this film wimps out on delivering either the gratuitous nudity or graphic gore one expects from a backwoods slasher, meaning that it's a very frustrating experience for fans of the genre.
A shame, really, because the premise is solid enough—hulking maniac Jeremiah has spent thirty three years hiding under the floor of his cabin after witnessing the rape and murder of his mother by rednecks, and now kills anyone else who should stumble across his home—and although not great actors by any stretch of the imagination, the cast are likable enough.
But when a film racks up a kill count that reaches double figures (I counted ten, including several by pick-axe), but prefers to suggest the carnage rather than gross out the audience (probably 'cos it's cheaper that way), you can't help but feel disappointed and cheated. Hell, even Gary Busey's name on the cover is a tease: he's only in the film for five minutes (although his surreal rant about chicken-wing suppositories is definitely the highlight of the film).
The surprisingly nasty tone and downbeat ending are daring touches (how many horror films have the balls to feature NO survivors?), but these factors alone cannot prevent A Crack In The Floor from being a dud.
Barring a few moments of nudity in the film's opening moments, and a fairly fun impalement on a pitchfork early on, this film wimps out on delivering either the gratuitous nudity or graphic gore one expects from a backwoods slasher, meaning that it's a very frustrating experience for fans of the genre.
A shame, really, because the premise is solid enough—hulking maniac Jeremiah has spent thirty three years hiding under the floor of his cabin after witnessing the rape and murder of his mother by rednecks, and now kills anyone else who should stumble across his home—and although not great actors by any stretch of the imagination, the cast are likable enough.
But when a film racks up a kill count that reaches double figures (I counted ten, including several by pick-axe), but prefers to suggest the carnage rather than gross out the audience (probably 'cos it's cheaper that way), you can't help but feel disappointed and cheated. Hell, even Gary Busey's name on the cover is a tease: he's only in the film for five minutes (although his surreal rant about chicken-wing suppositories is definitely the highlight of the film).
The surprisingly nasty tone and downbeat ending are daring touches (how many horror films have the balls to feature NO survivors?), but these factors alone cannot prevent A Crack In The Floor from being a dud.