You won't be disappointed!

If you don't like this, we can't be friends.

Good concept, poorly executed.

I cannot think of one single thing that I would change about this film. The acting is incomparable, the directing deft, and the writing poignantly brilliant.

Filmed in black and white with a very low budget this movie obviously won't suit everyone's taste. Personally, I enjoyed it because it wasn't trying to be one of those "so bad it's good" zombie movies that seem to crop up just about everywhere these days. In this particular film, "Dr Biladeau" (Robert Stanton) is looking for a cure for cancer and he chooses to set up his lab on "Voodoo Island" which is located somewhere in the Caribbean. Meanwhile, a novelist named "Tom Harris" (William Joyce) is in search of new ideas for his next book and is convinced by his agent "Duncan Fairchild" (Dan Stapleton) to accompany him and his wife "Carol Fairchild" to this island. When they arrive a zombie attempts to kill Tom Harris but is chased away just in the nick of time. Later, zombies also try to capture a beautiful blonde virgin named "Jeannie Biladeau" (Heather Hewitt) for a sacrifice in a voodoo ceremony. At any rate, with a plot like that does it really matter that the special effects are bad or the script was awful? Hey, it's a campy late-50's horror movie with zombies and a damsel in distress. What's not to like? Just be advised that these zombies are the "pre-Romero" sort who don't eat human flesh. Although, why anyone would think they would is another question altogether.

Two fun couples spend some time on an island not listed by Club Med.Unhappily, the title promises an odd dinner entrée and then fails to deliver. Considering that the zombies have a case of bad skin even Clearasil can't handle, I guess that's not surprising. Looks to me like special effects first dipped them in mud, then stuck golf balls in their eyes. Whatever the deal, the walking dead are about as scary as my Aunt Clara with her make-up on. Okay, why else watch a movie whose title promises to gag you, except to make fun of the results. Actually, the movie's not bad enough for a Golden Turkey, but it tries, especially with those voodoo dances that come across like an epidemic of the dry heaves. But then hunky William Joyce and movie vet Walter Coy mess up the fun with some pretty good acting. Plus, for the guys, there's plenty of bare girl skin to feast (your eyes) on. Anyway, now I see why this epic stayed on the shelf for six years, most probably to fester. If so, they should have waited a little longer, like forever. Still, I can't wait for my copy of I Drink Your Blood, except it probably makes a libation promise it too won't keep.

Pop quiz: Which film from 1964, after a brief sequence set in the tropics and some jazzy opening credits, segues into a bird's-eye view of the pool area at the Hotel Fontainebleau, and our handsome leading man cavorting with some bikinied babes? If your answer is "Goldfinger," well, a gold star for you, I suppose, but the film I was actually referring to here in an infinitely lesser affair, Del Tenney's "I Eat Your Skin." As revealed in my bible, "The Psychotronic Encyclopedia of Film," this picture actually first saw the light of day in 1971, after going unreleased for seven years. Apparently, producer Jerry Gross needed a film to pair with his rabid-hippies classic "I Drink Your Blood," and so purchased Tenney's picture (which had previously been titled "Voodoo Blood Bath," more appropriately) and gave it a complementary moniker. Then came the poster for the double feature with the legendary caption "2 great blood-horrors to rip out your guts"! Anyway, as has been noted elsewhere, there is no eating of skin in the Tenney film whatsoever. In it, hunky-dude playboy/writer Tom Harris (played with granite-jawed machismo by William Joyce, a poor man's Sterling Hayden) is given the assignment of going to Voodoo Island in the Caribbean to do research for his next novel, and so hightails it there with his drunken agent and the agent's kooky broad of a wife. And what do they find on the island? A madman attempting to take over the world, a scientist seeking a cure for cancer by utilizing radioactive cobra venom (!), a beautiful blond hottie for Harris to seduce and conquer, a voodoo-practicing tribe, and oh...an army of rather nasty zombies!These zombies, it should be mentioned here, are not of the George A. Romero variety; indeed, these fast-moving creatures, with horribly scabrous skin and eyes like sunny-side up eggs, would rather lop off your head with a machete than take a bite out of it. Still, they are a memorably frightening-looking bunch. Tenney's film, cheaply made as it is and shot, for the most part, in Coral Gables, FL, exudes a pulpy, Saturday matinée charm that this viewer finds kind of irresistible. The picture has any number of striking images (I love the shot of the zombie advancing toward the camera with a crate marked "Explosives") and a fairly suspenseful windup, one whose debt to another Bond film, 1962's "Dr. No," seems fairly apparent. Tenney, who not only directed this picture but also wrote and produced it, is now a very solid three for three with me; his "Horror of Party Beach" (also from 1964) and "Curse of the Living Corpse" (1963) were both also loads of fun. I don't wish to make too strong a case for "I Eat Your Skin"--the film is undeniably cinematic junk food, and as far from "art" as can be imagined--but offhand, I cannot think of a picture that would be better to watch with your favorite 12-year-old nephew. And surprise of surprises: THIS DVD, from the usually undependable folks at Alpha Video, actually looks pretty decent!

Cancer researcher Dr. Biladeau (the insipid Robert Stanton) develops a snake venom that when injected into the local voodoo-practicing natives on a remote Caribbean island turns said natives into mindless shambling zombies. Hunky pulp novel writer Tom Harris (the handsome, but hopelessly wooden William Joyce) investigates the bizarre happenings and tries to put a stop to them. Writer/director Del Tenney, who also blessed us with the gloriously atrocious "The Horror of Party Beach," totally misses the mark in many ways with this extremely cheap and crummy dud: the poky pace, clumsy and ill-advised attempts at broad humor, a throbbing tribal score by Lon E. Newman that's more annoying and overbearing than effective and appropriate, lousy zombie make-up (the disappointing zoms have ping-pong ball eyes and what looks like dried oatmeal smeared all over their faces!), a severe dearth of both tension and creepy atmosphere, way too much needless dreary padding (what's with all the protracted native dance numbers and drippy romantic interludes?), mild gore, chintzy (far from) special effects, poor acting from a lame no-came cast (platinum blonde Betty Hyatt Linton cops the top thespic dishonors with her insufferably whiny and irritating performance as unbearable loud shrew Coral Fairchild), and a fumbled explosive conclusion all add up to one incredibly beat and unimpressive wash-out of a celluloid stiff. Francois Farkas' crisp black and white cinematography boasts a few primitive fades and dissolves. On the plus side, the vibrant and appealing Heather Hewitt perks things up a bit as sweet and lovely virgin Jeannie Biladeau, there are lots of pretty gals in bikinis, and brawny, hairy-chested stud muffin on wheels Joyce takes his shirt off as often as possible (hubba! hubba!). But overall this drivel is much too flat, lifeless, and meandering to amount to anything more than an instantly forgettable yawnfest.