Inspired by the heavy metal hysteria of the era, Black Roses is the second film by director John Fasano to link rock music with demonic horror.
His first, the legendarily bad/awesome Rock ‘n’ Roll Nightmare is so uniquely terrible/wonderful, there was no way his second attempt couldn’t be both better and worse in comparison. Blessed with a higher budget, Roses is a more professional looking affair, but in a way that merely works to highlight its deficiencies rather than make them the virtues Nightmare did.
In a small town just a few miles away from wherever Footloose took place, the local teenagers are excited to find out that popular band Black Roses are coming to perform a series of shows in order to rehearse their upcoming national tour. The town’s moral defenders express concern about the sex, drugs and debauchery such concerts will inevitably generate, but the kids get the music they desire, only to discover — too late — that the group’s aim is not to entertain, but to turn their young fans into demonic slaves to their dark lord Satan!
With only the local mustachioed English teacher (John Martin) to stop them, it doesn’t look good for the kids or anyone else who thinks Top 40 is too gay. To its benefit, Black Roses doesn’t take itself seriously and avoids becoming a cinematic Jack Chick comic book. The effects are mostly terrible, but work despite their cheesiness. Not bad enough to be great like Nightmare, Roses is still good enough to earn a rental. —Allan Mott
Yes, Yankee Doodle in Berlin is silent, but don’t go away. Let me tell you about it. It’s different. Really.
The comedy comes from shameless slapstick and the conceit that the Kaiser is nothing but a henpecked husband who is constantly under the thumb of his frau (Eva Thatcher). Add that to the propagandistic notion that Germany was being ruled by numbnuts and idiots (played by silent comedy stalwarts Ben Turpin, Chester Conklin, Bert Roach and others) and you have a fast-paced 58 minutes of funhouse slapstick that makes Mel Brooks look like Alan Rickman. 
Hornet was birthed as another 
Not long after they notice the presence of the “Ten Little Indians” nursery rhyme all over the rooms, one of them dies, and in the exact manner as the rhyme’s first couplet. Just who is this Mr. Owen? Why is he doing this? And will they be able to find out before there are none of them left? You’ll have a ball being stumped.