Blood Sand
Posted: Mon Jul 25, 2016 6:20 pm
Synopsis:
Jamie Kennedy is finally the best actor on a set.
Review:
During a spring break party, some standard horror movie fodder find a huge unnatural-looking ball of goo that seems ripped off directly from some incarnation of The Blob. Since this is the party of the century, 100% of the attendees get blackout drunk instead of say, reporting this to the Coast Guard, EPA, or even just calling in one of the Gumbels.
Everyone who comes to the next day notices only a handful of hungover folk are still present and the ball looks quite hatched. Turns out there's a creature that burrowed into the sand overnight and ate everyone. This is only apparent after 2-3 people die from the numerous tiny, poison-tipped, hair-like tentacles that erupt from the sand.
Most of the film is shot during the day on a beach. None of the main characters move more than fifty feet from where they start, including the token black guy who's stuck in a discarded oil drum the entire movie, and the most of the "action" is characters yelling at each other or doing their best Nadia Comaneci across whatever conveniently available yet narrow detritus is at hand. Because while these tentacles have the power to burrow through metal, wood, or vulcanized rubber, Jamie fucking Kennedy walks across them in normal shoes for several minutes straight. You may think this is a plot hole. Well wise-ass, the writers beat you to it and made it a plot point, which becomes even more befuddling in a scene where someone books it across the sand with beach sandals and towels wrapped around their feet. What's more amazing is the tentacles can only jut up a few inches from the sand ... except for the times they shoot up like a waterspout straight from Satan's own bidet. The thing clearly demonstrates tendencies toward exploration and problem solving, but perhaps it's simply lazy because it doesn't do shit until the end.
Verdict:
Fucking awful. An entire movie built on the premise that everyone forgets to bring their shoes. It's like a less talented Al Bundy wrote the initial treatment.
Jamie Kennedy is finally the best actor on a set.
Review:
During a spring break party, some standard horror movie fodder find a huge unnatural-looking ball of goo that seems ripped off directly from some incarnation of The Blob. Since this is the party of the century, 100% of the attendees get blackout drunk instead of say, reporting this to the Coast Guard, EPA, or even just calling in one of the Gumbels.
Everyone who comes to the next day notices only a handful of hungover folk are still present and the ball looks quite hatched. Turns out there's a creature that burrowed into the sand overnight and ate everyone. This is only apparent after 2-3 people die from the numerous tiny, poison-tipped, hair-like tentacles that erupt from the sand.
Most of the film is shot during the day on a beach. None of the main characters move more than fifty feet from where they start, including the token black guy who's stuck in a discarded oil drum the entire movie, and the most of the "action" is characters yelling at each other or doing their best Nadia Comaneci across whatever conveniently available yet narrow detritus is at hand. Because while these tentacles have the power to burrow through metal, wood, or vulcanized rubber, Jamie fucking Kennedy walks across them in normal shoes for several minutes straight. You may think this is a plot hole. Well wise-ass, the writers beat you to it and made it a plot point, which becomes even more befuddling in a scene where someone books it across the sand with beach sandals and towels wrapped around their feet. What's more amazing is the tentacles can only jut up a few inches from the sand ... except for the times they shoot up like a waterspout straight from Satan's own bidet. The thing clearly demonstrates tendencies toward exploration and problem solving, but perhaps it's simply lazy because it doesn't do shit until the end.
Verdict:
Fucking awful. An entire movie built on the premise that everyone forgets to bring their shoes. It's like a less talented Al Bundy wrote the initial treatment.