Night of the Demons and it’s gloriously offensive sequel brought some truly intriguing things to the table. Can you be raped by a tube of lipstick? Can that same lipstick have previously been shoved into someone’s tit with little resistance? Do nuns know a form of kung fu? The Night of the Demons series nodded it’s head “Yes!” to all of these questions…and with GUSTO. Unfortunately, like all formerly delightful horror film series, they always have to take it that extra step that isn’t needed (or the extra half dozen steps as in most case samples).

Night of the Demons 3…what to say? It’s not deserving of a full review because I’m pretty sure my thumbs would be dug into my eyes half way through it, so let’s use LOT’S of space breaks and rambling unrelated comments to stretch this puppy into a reasonable facsimile of a report of the film’s content. Go!

– Things start off badly with AWFUL LATE 90’S COMPUTER GRAPHICS~! HOLLA ATCHA BOY. These are not the cheesy fun kind that you and your shithead friends laugh at and do keg stands to, these are the type where everyone shifts uncomfortably and the guy who suggested the flick begins thinking “What have I done?”

– A bunch of convoluted shit happens. A cop gets shot at a gas station by one of our teenaged protagonists and escapes with his gun and a major wound. The cop survives and chalks it up to “just kids having fun” and they send out one detective to investiagte. Ladies and gentleman…Night of the Demons 3. Ugh.

– So hey, no one in any of this series is winning an Oscar anytime soon for acting, but BEAUTIFUL BABY JESUS what happened here? One guy looks like he’s having a stroke for a 3rd of the film and it passes for him being “distressed”. I always evacuate my bowels and blink in Jose Canseco/Sid Justice rhythm when scared, I must admit.
– Lots of gore and nudity…but it’s so hollow and shoehorned in. The first 2 films have a lot of this, but it always seems natural and quasi-hilarious. This one, it seems as if the thing was going down in flames like the Hindenburg and the director panicked and started screeching “Okay, an extra grand if you get the goods out AND I’ll throw in another $20 for a ride to the liquor store. Please. PLEASE.”

– Angela is played by Amelia Kinkade again and she’s phoning it in with passion. Not since Marlon Brando fell down in a Krispy Cream has a respected citizen …oof, lost the joke…can’t find it…and this is staying in. Sorry. She said “Fuck it”, cashed the check and half assed her way through is what I’m getting at. THIS IS UNDERSTANDABLE SADLY.

You don’t need to know anymore. This is bad. Not so bad that you enjoy it, just kind of depressing and impossible to get through bad. It’s something a Night of the Demons film should never be: Unapologetically boring. Any flick that contains this much pointless nudity, ripped out hearts and police badge throwing stars should start my sweet lil’ feet a flutterin’. This one just makes me fling my entire body into the TV in a final desperate attempt to stop it.