Killing Spree (1987)

Tom may just lose his mind and end up becoming a serial killer if another of his wives cheats on him. How do we know that? Well, Tim Ritter in his brilliant writing explains that to us in an ever so blunt exposition that Tom may just–lose his mind and end up becoming a serial killer if another of his wives cheats on him. Why the repetition? It’s probably because director Tim Ritter’s attempt at a facsimile of a film is absolutely unwatchable.

Tom Russo (Asbestos Felt) suspects that his wife is having multiple affairs. So he decides to slaughter the men involved with a variety of household tools. But are the affairs real? Or is Tom just in the mood for a Killing Spree?! It’s nothing but faux avant garde swill attempting Warholian surrealism and fails on every single note possible because it’s undermined by the shoddy work of Ritter. Tom is a man plagued by paranoia that… you know. And after losing his temper from thinking his wife was flirting with his best friend (a seventy year old pilot, no less), he begins to sink deeper and deeper into madness.

It’s a madness that I can only describe as insanely ridiculous acid trips that are neither entertaining nor edgy. “Killing Spree,” a movie I can only describe as a ninety minute punch in the neck that you can barely sit through no matter how hard you tried. Though the (DVD) treatments for these movies are wonderful, Tim Ritter’s horrendous direction and tedious writing make this amateurish slasher. There’s not much else that I can say about this movie since it’s just so bad any attempts at mustering the vitriol for this would be an exercise in futility.

It’s just a ridiculous production from beginning to end that fails to live up to its alleged slasher tags. Asbestos Felt gives one of the worst performances I’ve ever seen in what can be described as a mixture of inadvertent comedy, and emoting that even a community theater would look down on. If you can sit through this entire film without wanting to go on your own killing spree, then I don’t know if I can respect your endurance or bemoan your stupidity.