You better look out world, there's a man on the loose;
Women better run and hide.
Men prepare to defend yourselves
From a terror from the other side.
Well here I am.
Baby I'm the Chooper man.

These are, in part, the immortal words that preface the appearance of the Chooper, the villain of one of Shriek Show / Media Blastersâ latest releases: Blood Shack aka. The Chooper, a 1971 obscurity from Ray Dennis Steckler that plays like a Dario Argento-directed version of Manos: The Hands of Fate. What it ends up as, however, is more like a bizarre refutation of everything we the movie-going public have come to know and love about cinema.

So what is this thing about? Well, there's a shack (never has the word been used so aptly) in Death Valley that is supposedly haunted by 'The Chooper,' a vengeful Indian spirit. Into this house, or rather the house next to it, as the Blood Shack is basically uninhabitable in its squalor, moves Carolyn Brandt (played by Carolyn Brandt - got that?), a horror movie actress who inherited the shack from her Uncle Jim (who has a lot of nerve to pawn a dive like this off on his niece). Hoping to 'get away from it all,' Carolyn decides to stay in the house by the Blood Shack, which, sadly, gives Steckler a movie to make (albeit not much of one).

After meeting all the colorful locals (two little girls; Daniel the ranch-hand; and Tim Foster, a neighbor who is, for some reason, desperate to buy the hovel from Carolyn)... well... very little happens. Carolyn takes a lot of walks while prattling away in voice-over, and takes several trips to the rodeo to pad out the run-time. Meanwhile, people continually find reasons to wander up to the Blood Shack and meet their doom outside of it (only one person 'the first' is killed within) as Carolyn continues to take trips to the rodeo, where she is badgered further by Tim, who really wants the ranch.

Eventually, while wandering around by the shack, Daniel and Carolyn are forced into a final confrontation with the madman (we've by now figured out that the Chooper legend is pure bunk, as it's mentioned once in the first few minutes and then forgotten), during which the 'shocking' identity of the man acting as the Chooper is revealed (if you think you've guessed it by reading this synopsis, then yes, you have). This 'shocking revelation' proves about as satisfying as the end of your average Scooby Doo episode, but, if nothing else, serves as perfect proof of Occam's Razor.

Having never seen another Ray Dennis Steckler production, I can't compare Blood Shack to the rest of his oeuvre; however, having seen many other films in my lifetime, I can compare it to them, and on that level, Blood Shack is a Titanic failure. The story really travels nowhere: most of the film consists of Brandt wandering around in a Nancy Sinatra-style wardrobe while delivering rambling narration, with this pseudo-profound yammering occasionally punctuated by a Chooper-attack

Sadly, however, the Chooper himself does little to hold the audience's interest other than provide slight comic relief. His first attack, which takes place in darkness, is jarring on the initial viewing, mostly because of a sudden, loud Chooper-scream; however, on a re-viewing, it becomes quite clear that the Chooper is simply stumbling on camera more than anything else. After this first attack, it's all down (an already very low) hill from there, since the rest of the attacks take place in broad daylight and allow us to see how goofy this villain really is. Screaming and wielding a saber while dressed in a black body stocking, the Chooper looks and sounds more like an enraged rubber fetishist than a vengeful Indian spirit or even an inept killer. His tendency to kind of skip as he runs certainly doesn't help him seem more menacing, either, and a strange ballet-style leap he performs during the film's climactic chase scene effectively eliminates any shred of menace and masculinity he retained. Of course, it's hard to get really scared in the first place when you're up against a villain with a name as goofy as 'The Chooper,' and Steckler's decision to forgo chase scenes and simply have him jump at people from behind corners destroys any shock value the film ever could have had. And, to make matters worse, the one time Steckler doesn't have the Chooper leap in from off frame while running on his tiptoes, he actually cuts away to him charging at the person (from off a roof, no less), hobbling ever more terribly his chance at scaring the audience.

So how does Steckler try to scare us? Mostly by having Daniel leap out at inappropriate moments, screaming at some poor person about how he's in danger by being around the Blood Shack. (He does it often enough that, if you can bear to watch the movie, you could make a fun drinking game out of it.) It's instances like these that truly make Daniel one of the cinema's great bizarre characters, if not quite on the level of Manos: The Hands of Fate's Torgo, then at least pretty damn close. In addition to his penchant for bursting into frame ranting about the Chooper, Daniel also has a tendency to go shirtless, which produces more horror, terror and shock than all of the Chooper attacks combined. When the man does take pity on the audience and put a shirt on, however, it's one that's about three sizes too small, riding high enough to expose his belly button in a fashion move that predates Brittany Spears by more years than she's been on this earth.

And speaking of failed sex appeal, Steckler also fails miserably at interesting his audience through titillation. Indeed, any and all notions of sex in the movie are simply a cheap tease. Carolyn Brandt does look kind of pretty in her hip-hugging pants and go-go boots, and Steckler's camera does wander wistfully over her quite often, but all of this does little in the face of the constant bait-and-switch situations to which he subjects his audience. The primary offenders are, of course, Carolyn's two shower scenes, each showing a little more, though always keeping anything of real interest out of sight. Similarly, the film's prettiest couple (John Bates and Laurel Spring - great name!) aren't even on screen together - the two are killed separately, and, while Ms. Spring does (strip down to her bra and panties during her night in the Blood Shack, Steckler again refuses to deliver all the goods, proving that even directing The Horny Vampire didn't teach him how to make a bad movie redeemable.

The fact that the film moves about as slowly as a cold knife through brick doesn't help things either. Even at 70 minutes (55 in the Blood Shack version), the proceedings are agonizing. The oft-mentioned rodeo inserts which pad out the running time of the 70-minute Chooper version are certainly a source of much distress, for they run on endlessly, and are not any better the second time around (yes, Carolyn goes to the rodeo twice!). The proceedings are definitely not helped by Carolyn's narration, either, which alternates between sounding like Ed Wood's attempt at a Victorian horror novel ("There is a legend about Death Valley, a tale carried across the winds of time, a legend strange and sinister: the legend of the Chooper.") and readings from a brochure on the rodeo ("The opening procession of rides was a beautiful sight to watch. You could see how each rider took pride in his horsemanship. The American flag never looked so American. It seemed to be one of the few places where young and old alike could get together and share something. The feeling of the old west was definitely here, a feeling of a challenge, where man has to tame the beast, even if it is a 10-year-old boy taming a wild pony. I don't know when I've enjoyed myself more."). And, to top it all off, our second helping of rodeo footage is accompanied by a spectacularly inappropriate (yet, admittedly, wonderfully cheesy) lounge song called "Dream Your Dreams."

Finally, we come to video and sound, which aren't all that bad, considering the film we're enduring here. The image ranges from fairly clean to occasionally looking like it's been attacked by a saber-wielding Chooper, so as long as things are in focus, we're not too bad off. Sound is the same: rough in spots, but generally getting the job done.

There! I think I have finally succeeded in cataloguing most of the offenses of The Chooper. Now, I must admit, I'd heard some of it before, and I knew before purchasing my copy of Blood Shack that I was in for a rough time. So why did I buy it? Simple, because of the Joe Bob Briggs commentary, which is one of the many extras on Shriek Show's disk of the film.

Starting things off, Shriek Show has seen fit to present this movie both in its 55-minute Blood Shack version (which eliminates a lot of the rodeo padding, but also two wonderfully awful songs), which is Steckler's director's cut, and its 70-minute release version. Of course, if any film needed to be presented in its proper aspect ratio (1.85:1) with anamorphic enhancement, it was most definitely The Chooper, and, thankfully, Shriek Show has delivered, which will no doubt satisfy the film's gargantuan fan base.

As for other extras, we get trailers; a Blood Shack photo gallery; an interview with Carolyn Brandt, who seems a little bemused by the film; and an interview with Ray Dennis Steckler himself, whose enthusiasm for the picture definitely worries me (were we watching the same film?). Steckler also provides an audio commentary over the Blood Shack version, though it mostly consists of him narrating what's happening. Perhaps this track will be of interest to the blind, but it was of little interest to me.

Finally, wrapping things up is what I came here for: the delightful presence of Joe Bob Briggs. Starting things off with an on-screen introduction that lasts a few minutes and helps put the film in context almost as much as the Steckler interview (albeit much more humorously), Joe Bob then moves on to a commentary track on the Chooper version. It's not long before he's tearing into the film with the ferocity that the viewer himself wishes to, and I must say that, after watching The Chooper, Joe Bob's commentary was definitely very cathartic, in addition to being one hell of a good listen.

If you're aching for some MST3K-style mockery, look no further - go and pick up your copy of Blood Shack. Just remember that if you choose to enter it without Joe Bob Briggs by your side, you do so at your own risk...