"Is it horror? Is it comedy? Trust me, you won't care enough to find out."
Blood Theater (1984, a.k.a. The Movie House Massacre) is one schizophrenic little cheapie. Rare is the film that fails so resoundingly in two separate genres at the exact same time.It starts out with a familiar-yet-potentially-charming-in-a-schlocky-kinda-way prologue in which a spooky looking theater manager burns down his theater with a flock of patrons still trapped inside before taking a butcher’s knife to his box-office girl. Then the credits roll, and – boom – now we’re in a comedy. Weird. And except for the gaudy cheapness of the sets, actors, and overall tone, it’s not a very funny comedy.
In between three or four randomly inserted murder sequences inside the allegedly haunted movie theater, we’re subjected to a limp series of sitcom style humor taking place in a wholly different movie theater. Seems that the owner of the Starlite theater chain has recently purchased the evil theater, so he promptly sends three of his best employees to prepare for opening night. Not surprisingly, the trio meets up with some rather silly supernatural shenanigans and K-Y Jelly gore.
Meanwhile, back at the “wacky” theater, we have one particularly horny ticket-taker (played by potty-mouth Cynthia Hartline) who hates her job and takes to parading into various theaters with her breasts flopping about.
Other zaniness includes a manager who videotapes new movies to sell on the black market, a long-suffering secretary (longtime cult-flick staple Mary Woronov) who gets into fistfights with her employees, and a seemingly endless supply of cheerleaders looking for after-school employment.Blood Theater often comes real close to being ‘so bad it’s good’; generally, it’s just bad.