In 1988 former cameraman, theater director and Army documentary filmmaker William Wesley made the superbly eerie and grisly living dead horror zinger variant "Scarecrows." Some thirteen years later Wesley finally resurfaced with this snazzy direct-to-video terror shocker which centers on a dry, dusty, desolate patch of remote desert backroads haunted by the lethal, murderous, unrestful eyeless, zombie-like, asphalt-encrusted, crumple-faced spirits of four extremely vicious and dangerous chaingang convicts who were all killed in a brutal roadside massacre back in 1967. Rugged Federal marshal Lou Diamond Phillips, feisty lady cop Lori Petty, antsy mob informant Steven Williams (the tough, determined bounty hunter out to bag Jason Vorhees in "Jason Goes to Hell: The Final Friday"), and several expendable fuzz who include Dale Midkiff (the dumbbell doctor dad in "Pet Semetery") and Alex McArthur (the chillingly emotionless serial killer in William Friedkin's "Rampage") encounter the fiendish undead felons when they make the unsound decision to use the titular condemned, closed-off highway as a shortcut. Meanwhile, a mob assassin pursues our beleaguered bickering bunch.
Ingeniously blending a tried'n'true fright film premise with elements lifted from your basic chase action yarn and rough, gritty, noir-leaning crime thrillers, "Route 666" provides loads of crisp, pacy, straight-up grue-slinging creeped-out monstermash fun. Wesley directs in the same taut, spare, stripped-down no-nonsense manner which distinguished "Scarecrows." Philip Lee's sharp, panoramic cinematography vividly evokes a quietly unnerving wide-open feeling of total isolation and vulnerability. Terry Plumieri's countryish shuddery score likewise hits the spooky spot. The cast all turn in sturdy performances: Philips is less stolid and more agreeable than usual, Petty has spunky charm to spare, and Williams delightfully supplies the hilariously whiny, craven and conniving comic relief. Better still, we've got nice cameos by venerable character actors L.Q. Jones as a folksy sheriff and Dick Miller as a gruff, gravel-voiced bartender. In short, "Route 666" is just the place to find plenty of good, gory, neatly streamlined and to the point horror pic kicks.
Ingeniously blending a tried'n'true fright film premise with elements lifted from your basic chase action yarn and rough, gritty, noir-leaning crime thrillers, "Route 666" provides loads of crisp, pacy, straight-up grue-slinging creeped-out monstermash fun. Wesley directs in the same taut, spare, stripped-down no-nonsense manner which distinguished "Scarecrows." Philip Lee's sharp, panoramic cinematography vividly evokes a quietly unnerving wide-open feeling of total isolation and vulnerability. Terry Plumieri's countryish shuddery score likewise hits the spooky spot. The cast all turn in sturdy performances: Philips is less stolid and more agreeable than usual, Petty has spunky charm to spare, and Williams delightfully supplies the hilariously whiny, craven and conniving comic relief. Better still, we've got nice cameos by venerable character actors L.Q. Jones as a folksy sheriff and Dick Miller as a gruff, gravel-voiced bartender. In short, "Route 666" is just the place to find plenty of good, gory, neatly streamlined and to the point horror pic kicks.