Blood Beach (1980)

‘Just when it’s safe to go back in the water …you can’t get across the beach!’

Blood Beach is a 1980 American horror film written and directed by Jeffrey Bloom (Flowers in the Attic; scripter of Nightmares 1983, segment “Night of the Rat”).

The film stars David Hoffman, Mariana Hill (Messiah of Evil; Schizoid), John Saxon (Cannibal Apocalypse; A Nightmare on Elm Street) and Burt Young (Carnival of Blood). It was co-produced by Hong Kong-based Sir Run Run Shaw (Inseminoid).

The film’s jazzy score was composed by Gil Melle (The Intruder Within; The Sentinel; Embryo; The Night Stalker).

The premise, conceived by co-producer Steven Nalevansky, involves a creature lurking beneath Santa Monica beach that attacks locals and vacationers. In the US, the film was released by The Jerry Gross Organisation (Fulci’s Zombie; I Spit on Your Grave; The Boogey Man).

Plot:

A person goes missing on California’s Venice Beach. The Los Angeles Police Department are called to the scene and after an investigation, believe it was merely a typical drowning case.

Soon, the police get several more calls of missing people from the same area. The puzzled cops come down to the beach once again, and initially believe it is the work of a serial killer.

Meanwhile, more and more people and a dog go missing. The police realise the thing on the beach is no serial killer when a teenager lets her friends bury her in the sand, but they unbury her only to find she has shredded legs, and a rapist is gorily castrated before the eyes of his horrified victim.

Eventually, the LAPD realise that people are being sucked under the sand by something under the ground…

Reviews:

“It’s not nearly as camp or as sleazy as some horror fans might want, but the film isn’t without interest and humor. Somehow it works.” Videohound’s Complete Guide to Cult Flicks and Trash Pics

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“Unfortunately, whenever we leave the beach (i.e. the majority of the 92-minute running time) to focus on the dull-as-dishwater romance of headliners David Huffman and Marianna Hill, the show stops dead in the water, with nothing but sergeant Burt Young’s mannered and decidedly un-PC rantings to carry the day.” Horror 101

” …all this may have been tolerable if the monster was any damned good. Unfortunately, you have to wait until the last five minutes of the movie to see the goddamned thing and it looks like a f*cking flower or some shit. Talk about a total gyp. The scariest thing about Blood Beach is when the hero and his girlfriend go to a bar and sing on stage.” Mitch Lovell, The Video Vaccuum

“The film is more comfortable with kitschy beach scenes, slightly overexposed and in soft focus so that the light takes on an almost tangible quality. Those have nothing to do with the alleged story, but they’re pretty to watch.” Mike Mayo, Videohound’s Horror Show

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“This low budget horror effort is a unique take on Jaws, but fails because of a terribly weak creature that is revealed during the final moments. A bit of gore, an intriguing premise, a couple quirky performances and even a brief, bluesy duet rendition of Guy Clark’s ‘Fools For Each Other’ make this a mild time waster for undiscriminating horror fans.” Cool Ass Cinema

” …it worked great for Tremors but the people in charge here aren’t the people from Tremors so instead we have way, way too much time wasted on following the police around. This movie might as well have just been a police drama with the perp being a giant antlion mixed with a evil, mutated sunflower.” Happyotter

“Everything from the script and performances to the sound recording is just terrible. Badly paced, Blood Beach feels stretched out even at ninety-two minutes, and most disappointingly there’s not a whit of suspense.” John Kenneth Muir, Horror Films of the 1980s

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“…a cut or two above the recent run of low-budget horror films. In fact, the work of an attractive and professional cast, a rarity in the genre, is undermined by plodding direction and a talky and incoherent script that is short on action, suspense and even the gore that the title promises.” Tom Buckley, The New York Times, January 24, 1981

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