Point of Terror contains so many songs performed in full, it veers dangerously close to being a musical. That performer is Tony Trelos (star/writer/producer Peter Carpenter, Blood Mania), a groovy-esque nightclub singer who fancies himself quite the Tom Jones. Unfortunately, since he headlines at the Lobster House, he’s far more, say, John C. Reilly.
Tony senses that sweet smell of success when he meets giant-haired/giant-breasted record exec Andrea Hillard (Nazi she-wolf Ilsa herself, Dyanne Thorne) and they begin an affair, much to the gritted-teeth disdain of Andrea’s handicapped hubby (Joel Marston, Star Trek II: The Wrath of Khan).
Other than an admittedly pretty-hot pool rendezvous between Tony and Andrea, the movie’s best scene finds her throwing a lawn chair at her wheelchair-bound spouse as he confronts her about her vow-busting style of “talent relations.” As she mimics the motions of a matador, director Alex Nicol (The Screaming Skull) puts ambient sounds from a public bullfight on the soundtrack and — kind of a spoiler, but really more a reason to watch — as Mr. Hillard accidentally rolls into the pool to a chlorinated death, Andrea whispers, “Olé.”
Olé indeed. Thorne is quite the delicious femme fatale, and Point of Terror could use more of her camp-flavored spice to liven up its soap-opera script. The film is an R-rated soap opera, mind you — Nicol turns a sex-on-the-beach scene into a onscreen checkerboard — but full of melodramatics nonetheless. (It is, after all, an ego vehicle for Carpenter, who overestimated his value as a leading man and sadly died two years before Point got around to being released.) The “twist” ending intends to shock, yet instead will leave you thinking it copped out. It did. —Rod Lott