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Here's Doug Robertson's ultra-obscure 1991 sov regional slasher flick Hauntedween! Don't love it for the title alone; love it for the purity! Hauntedween boldly positions its greatest assets -- the people and the comedy -- at the forefront. Consequences be damned. Absent social skills? Infinitely repetitive dialogue? Inhuman reactions to everyday situations? It all spells pride. Pride in who you are. Pride in what you do. Shot on video (SOV) in and around Bowling Green, Kentucky, then filtered to film for home video release, the extremely rare Hauntedween marks the last call for sincerity in vintage, homemade slashers. If you don't care for the Danzig-meets-Morrissey theme song, there's always the "Foot Locker SLAM FEST!" t-shirt. When pride is on the menu, no one goes hungry.First ten minutes: Halloween night, 1970. Whispy mullets. All-over animal print sweaters. Tight-rolled jeans. Little Eddie Burber isn't old enough to work in his family's spookhouse. Instead, he lures a young girl to a secret spot within the walls, impales her on a spike, then decapitates her. Momma says, "We got to go, Eddie!" Run, Eddie, run.Next fifty minutes: Twenty years later (always a favorite). Beer bongs. Hawaiian swim trunks. Rejected Jackie Mason routines. The Sigma Pi frat is in dire need of funds to renew their charter. Head honcho Kurt may be losing his girlfriend, Mel. Solutions: Sunbathe. Throw a fundraiser party. Throw another fundraiser party. Hot damn.Last twenty minutes: Halloween night. Momma's dead. Eddie returns! After the ol' Burber spookhouse keys mysteriously end up with the poor man's (hillbilly) Don Knotts, the Sigma Pis decide to re-open the "House Of Horrors" for...another fundraiser. Eddie traps 'em, sets 'em up in spookhouse scenes, and kills 'em. Customers eat up the gooshy gore, but it all comes crashing down. Further exposure of the white trash boobs are M.I.A. Thank God.In truth, that "next fifty minutes" section will slap you into unconsciousness, if only by sheer annoyance alone. No biggie. Once night falls, Hauntedween leans in with a third act of luscious Halloween trickery. You can smell the rubber masks and tubes of drug store blood. You can hear the Kentucky accents come alive again. You can feel the misty warmth of true enthusiasm. Obviously, the whole thing is a little loose in the organization department, but the concept wins out. Uncomfortable comedic lulls are redeemed. Mel and Kurt get back together.

ships in a plain sleeve with no artwork