"Be an unstoppable motherfucker... and fuck realism." These are the words of the director of Camp Death's film-within-a-film meta "fuck"-filled throwback to the slasher films of the 80s. (You'll notice I've used the word "fuck" in one form or another four times so far in this review. If this offends you, you'll want to give Camp Death a pass...everything about this movie, from the dialog to the to director's commentary is so full of foul language, that among the DVD extras is a Camp Death drinking game which invites viewers to drink each time someone in the movie utters the F-word...a drinking game that encourages the use of nonalcoholic beverages, so as to stave off viewer death.) Of course, if you're the type who is drawn to a genre known for being drenched in buckets of blood, a little foul language is not likely to put you off.

Camp Death has all the necessary slasher tropes - promiscuous teens with auto troubles, illicit substances, and a propensity for splitting up stumble upon an abandoned summer camp, which happens to be haunted by a passionless, masked killing machine in a yellow slicker. Unfortunately, these tropes, an underdeveloped (even for a short film) script and some laughable effects (particularly the painfully obvious CGI - "fuck realism" indeed) are about all Camp Death offers. There's nothing new here...even the horror movie killer crossing over into reality angle has been covered before (Wes Craven's New Nightmare). If you've seen a handful of other slasher films, you've seen Camp Death. Which is helpful, because thanks to its cinema verite approach to camera angles and lighting, viewing Camp Death itself is practically impossible. Many scenes are obscurely dark and strangely-filtered. (On the commentary track, Director Shaun Tisdale finds it necessary to apologize to the audience that they can't see that the killer has just ripped off a character's penis and shoved it into the victim's mouth. These are not the kind of details we depraved horror want to hear about; these are the kind of details we want to see!) Although it is evident that the teens in the movie drop like flies when they meet the unnamed killer - the action was so muddy that I was rarely clear on why. For all I could tell, he had deadly body odor.

There is one notable exception: a murder so singularly stark and brutal that for a a few minutes (which, while you're watching them, seem interminable) that the personality-less killer of Camp Death is transformed into the most frightening and horrifying killer in celluloid history. I kid you not when I say I'll be hearing the accompanying sound in my nightmares for some time. And in a genre that went from scary to silly once it became aware of itself....a truly disturbing and frightening moment like that is no small feat. It's nearly enough to make me forgive Camp Death for its numerous other flaws.

Camp Death is a freshman filmmaking effort done with a tight budget, a fact which is unfortunately evident, from the script all the way through the production values. Still - I will admit - as a production, it has heart. Hell, its probably got several somewhere in the gore soup on the floor. And if only I could see it I'd tell you for sure.

The Camp Death DVD comes with a handful of enjoyable extras, including a stills gallery, the aforementioned drinking game, a "Story Of" the making of segment (which is told entirely in a Star Wars opening credit style crawl with accompanying voice over) and a surprisingly amusing commentary from Shaun Tisdale - which is less about the film itself and more about being a first-time filmmaker. I've got to respect any director willing to put his own head through a mirror and take a few hits from a real two-by-four just to realize hist artistic vision. The crazy fuck.