director John Grissmer
While it’s hard to imagine Louise Lasser giving anyone an Oedipal complex, the “blood rage” in Blood Rage seems predicated over her fornication. It’s kind of hysterical how after his initial hatchet killings at the drive-in, how nonchalantly Terry implicates his twin Todd for the murders.
You know, Lasser is pretty much in her own movie here, one she apparently thinks is directed by John Cassavetes or something, not a low-budget Florida slasher due to languish on video until rediscovered years later by fans of obscure and off-beat bloody shenanigans. Her performance is so out of place in the film, it adds a strange flavor to the whole Thanksgiving smorgasbord.
Outside of Lasser’s virtually surreal performance, Mark Soper is actually pretty good in his dual role as Todd and Terry. I also kind of liked Lisa Randall as Andrea(?), the gal who just wants to party.
Beyond that, Blood Rage, does sport a seriously excellent gore game.
Forgoing the oft-quoted “cranberry sauce” line, I’ll up my personal favorite: “You’re going to hurt my kitty!”