Set in 1969 for no discernible reason, a group of youngsters heading to some protests in DC break down in Virginia, and crash for the night in an apparently empty farm. There, they are butchered by a standard issue serial killer, who has an obsession with baby dolls and likes to pull out his victims guts.
We put this one on because it was set in Virginia (our home), but later I found it that it was directed by George Romero's son. I love the elder Romero, who despite often lacking the technical brilliance of a Carpenter or Argento, had a lot of solid ideas, a knack for potent satire and social commentary, and a good sense of the spooky. His son's film has all the cheap awkwardness of a Night of the Living Dead, but none of that film's virtues. Staunton Hill is a dull, flatly directed collection of slasher cliches about how all southern people are grotesque, retarded mass murderers. The gore is too brutal to be fun but not convincing enough to truly disturb. Its a joyless slog through familiar material that builds to a stunningly banal twist ending that doesn't make the previous events any more interesting or scary. My least favorite of the films I watched for YVIAHMMAOIHTNQ.