Point of Terror

Like its earlier companion feature "Blood Mania," 1971's "Point of Terror" was plainly a vanity piece for writer-producer-star Peter Carpenter, a Vegas hoofer whose death remained shrouded in mystery for decades, dates as varied as late 1970, late '71, even the late 70s-early 80s, finally confirmed as 1996, resulting from AIDS. As an actor, he displays neither emotion nor charisma, and appears to be miming his three songs, all non hits from (believe it or not) Motown! ("Lifebeats" was actually recorded by The Supremes, minus Diana Ross). Imagine a singer so bad he has nightmares on the beach about his singing, and his apartment looks like his decorator was 'Bela Lugosi!' Another surprising name prominently featured in the opening credits is future Oscar winning editor Verna Fields, who earned her Academy Award for her work on Spielberg's "Jaws" just a few years later. The director is Alex Nicol, who at least had a genuine horror title on his slim resume behind the camera, 1958's "The Screaming Skull" (he had far more credits as an actor). Leslie Simms fondly recalls her working with Peter Carpenter, who may have been a likable fellow off camera, but insisted on playing lowdown sleazeballs in his own films. He juggles three different women in this picture, even flirting with the attractive Miss Simms, yet insists on rushing off to get married even after one girl announces she's pregnant! Dyanne Thorne (whom I first saw in STAR TREK's "A Piece of the Action") had already appeared with Carpenter in 1970's "Love Me Like I Do," here playing the man hungry wife of wheelchair bound record mogul Joel Marston, best remembered by genre buffs for 1957's "The Disembodied," plus his film debut in the 1949 Charlie Chan finale "The Sky Dragon" ("Blood Mania" had featured Jacqueline Dalya, from 1941's "Charlie Chan in Rio"). For all the wildly misleading ads depicting this as a horror film, the only scene that qualifies is Dyanne's bloody murder of Marston's first wife, just a brief flashback. Considering all her misdeeds, her character just isn't as maniacal as she should be, as one reviewer commented, the whole thing remains curiously tame, rather than outrageously lurid (it's never boring however). "Point of Terror," being part of Crown International's television package, debuted on Pittsburgh's Chiller Theater on Feb 26 1977, broadcast twice more over the next 4 years ("Blood Mania" earlier debuted on Nov 27 1976).

Point of Terror huh? I don't think so. Maybe Point of No Return or Pointlessness, or even Point Blank - but Terror - NO WAY! This is one of those cheesy, sleazy seventies offerings that are known for real bad acting, virtually little plot, and lots of skin. Point of Terror has all that, and it has so much more. I knew what this film was going to be like right from the beginning when Pete Carpenter, the male lead, dances in the foreground of a ridiculous bright red background ala a poor man's Tom Jones in red attire from head to toe. Things then move to Carpenter, perhaps having one of the biggest self-inflated egos I have seen in any film, play with a girl who loves him but can not offer him any career advancement. Carpenter then lies on a beach, finds an older but beautiful woman(the lovely, buxom Dyanne Thorne), realizes she happens to be married to the man in charge of a recording company that could give him his big break, and you can imagine where things go from there. The story is not overly inventive at all, the acting is quite pedestrian with Carpenter doing a less than workmanlike job parading shirtless and wearing pants made for adolescents. Carpenter, who is credited with writing this as well, even feels compelled to show his backside and then act - with his "skill" and the script - like he is doing all of womanhood a huge favour. One big Yikes! and Yawn. Despite all of this film's problems - and they are legion, Point of Terror is easily very watchable, laughable, and fun in a so bad its good way. And as an extra bonus, there is a scene, probably the best in the film, where Ms. Thorne disrobes and show us why she was in so much demand during those years. Her attributes easily overshadow her unconvincing yet somewhat credible acting style. As for the rest of the thespians, everyone does an OK job. None of the actors are real good nor real bad. The story, although obvious from the beginning, is also at least handled with some flair from the director Alex Nichol. Terror surely was misused in the title as there is virtually no horror at all in this film - a couple of rather tame deaths, though one is with a man in a wheelchair being goaded like a bull with "Ole" into a pool. You will only find something like that in the seventies for sure!

The previous reviewer (weho90069) summed up the this film quite succinctly, but did he stress the title's musical contribution enough? Only by seeing it would you be able to know just how eye-rolling a production number can actually be. A horrendous musical intro kicks off the film as the opening credits roll, with the lead character Tony Trelos aping about on stage in a blazing, red suede suit with waterfall fringe. The 'live' performances go from bad to worse, as we soon see the actor singing to the rafters in his regular venue, The Lobster House (that is, after a quick shag before curtain). It is in this setting we see Andrea shopping him with her eyes, adding him up as he performs seemingly only for her. Andrea's cool, calculating gaze tells us that it's more than stage talent she's wanting to sign.

Lyrically speaking, the theme song "Lifebeats" (which is repeated throughout) is the narrative that clues us in on the inner world of Sir Trelos. It is this song that he cuts for his first record that proves to be too much for his new rep Andrea, as she abruptly halts the recording session with a dash of her hand, barking out a "FROM the TOP!" It was either ending too soon for her, or else she just couldn't sign off on the vocal at that point. Either way, it gives us another chance to hear it some more. The singer does have his moments vocally-speaking, but we all do when we play American Idol Home Edition. The draw for Trelos' fans is obviously not in his throat.

I recommend you watch POT, but better still, really listen--

"Lifebeats turning into Lovebeats... Lovebeats turning into Lifebeats, moving in and taking over me...".

Wow, man.

Tony Trelos is a club singer at a seaside bar. Wanting more out of his career, he is approached by a woman on a beach who owns a record label with her crippled husband. Tony's involvement and exploits with her are more dangerous than he's aware of, however, as she's guilty of a murder, and capable of another.

The second piece of celluloid sleaze that Peter Carpenter wrote and starred in after the atmospheric (and underrated) "Blood Mania," "Point of Terror" is a significantly less thrilling picture—far more talky and significantly less moody. It also seems to be cribbing elements of "Blood Mania" in a lot of ways, as it follows borderline identical plot arcs that have been minutely tweaked: Man becomes involved with wealthy woman. Woman is unstable and a murderess. Family member enters the picture and complicates matters further. Same formula, different canvas.

The film is peppered with some of the most ridiculously "seventies" musical numbers you'll ever see, and also boasts a significant amount of skin from a buxom Dyanne Thorne and the hunky Carpenter. There is a nice doubled-over twist at the end of the film that is clever but rather cheap, and the general impression I got after it was over was that Carpenter seemed to have wanted to do-over "Blood Mania," but this time invoke as much of Jess Franco's "Succubus" as he could.

All in all, "Point of Terror" is a middling thriller that, while mildly amusing, is more or less a rehash of Carpenter's prior (and better) film. It is, like "Blood Mania," relatively well-shot, but it lacks the performances and moodiness that made the former so watchable. For a piece of grindhouse sleaze, "Point of Terror" is watchable, but it's lacking both in spirit and inventiveness. 5/10.

A woman cowering in fear. A masked madman brandishing a butcher knife. "Demons long locked in the depths of the mind come out to destroy the weak and believing!" Explore "the outer limits of fear". That's the poster. I don't think I've ever seen a movie so misrepresented by the advertising. Or happier about it. Not another tired, early 70s slasher film by any means, this riot is about a sleazy side-burned lounge singer (Peter Carpenter) picked up by a sleazier female record promoter (Dyanne Thorne) who sees something special in the guy. We can guess what it is, since most of the movie is shot at Carpenter's crotch level. Meanwhile, Thorne's jealous wheelchair-bound husband isn't going to take his wife's infidelity sitting down. Enter Thorne's kittenish daughter Lots of wonderfully bad faux 70s pop songs, over-heated dialogue and teeth-gnashing, and two outlandish murders. Dig it.