Four friends are stranded on what was once an old civil war battle ground and are haunted by the souls of those who died there.Four friends are stranded on what was once an old civil war battle ground and are haunted by the souls of those who died there.Four friends are stranded on what was once an old civil war battle ground and are haunted by the souls of those who died there.
Photos
Tony Malanowski
- Chris Marker
- (as Tony Stark)
Storyline
Did you know
- GoofsAt one point in the film, a smudge (accidentally transferred to the master tape, and from there to every copy of the movie) appears at the bottom of the screen and stays there for nearly eight minutes.
- Quotes
Chris Marker: What did you use for money?
Steve: Chocolate milk, and batteries.
- Crazy creditsThis film was Photographed in Maryland USA: America in Miniature
- ConnectionsFeatured in The Cinema Snob: Hardgore (2010)
Featured review
We're There.
Evil has many dimensions. It can make you angry, it can make you quiver with fear, it can make you doubt the existence of a kind and loving Supreme Being. For years I've sought Ultimate Evil, ever since I discovered that Plan 9 not only isn't the worst film ever made, it probably shouldn't make the Bottom 20.
And, while I'm always ready & eager to audition new candidates, "Night of Horror" may be -- IT. This film turns ALL the dials on the Evil Meter to 11. It will make you angry AND afraid AND plunge you into blackest despair.
Picture this. You take three or four of your lumpiest mullet-headed male buddies and dress them in Confederate uniforms. Put a bucket of dry ice in front of a Ford Gran Torino and turn on the headlights. Have your buddies stand in front of the lights and shift from one foot to the other. That's the sum of your horrifying FX.
Picture this. You see some goat-roper in line at Wal-Mart with 1978 REO Speedwagon hair and so skinny, his jeans fit exactly the same with the fly in the front or the back. That's your male lead. Oh - identify him as a "California rock singer" so everybody will know that he's supposed to be terminally hip.
Picture this. You want to establish your female lead as being hopelessly sensitive. So you have her read an Edgar Allen Poe poem to the male lead in the back of an RV. It works too well - his voice-over tells us he's now afraid of losing his cool.
This doesn't give you even a hint of how loathsome Night of Horror is. I've seen it cause even hardened veterans of the Bad Movie Wars to hit the Eject button screaming after the first twenty minutes. Manos at least had the studly cape. Zombie Lake had the naked girls' basketball team treading water. They Saved Hitler's Brain at least had Hitler's head mugging it up in the back seat. But Night of Horror has NOTHING. NOTHING. NOT ONE MOMENT of inspiration, humor, or gratuitous nay-nays. NOT ONE FRAME that doesn't look like it was shot in a koi pond and processed in bongwater.
And this turkey di tutti turkeys ACTUALLY FOUND A DISTRIBUTOR. Do you understand what that means? I have no doubt that all around the world people have worse films sitting in cans in ancient Kelvinators rattling away in mouldering tool sheds, that they just can't make themselves take to the dump. But Night of Horror actually caused money to change hands - somebody screened this excrescence, said, "Yeah, I think I can make a buck off that," and cut Malanowski a check.
We're there. This is it. We've touched bottom. Until Battlefield Earth 2 premieres, The Worst Movie Ever Made.
And, while I'm always ready & eager to audition new candidates, "Night of Horror" may be -- IT. This film turns ALL the dials on the Evil Meter to 11. It will make you angry AND afraid AND plunge you into blackest despair.
Picture this. You take three or four of your lumpiest mullet-headed male buddies and dress them in Confederate uniforms. Put a bucket of dry ice in front of a Ford Gran Torino and turn on the headlights. Have your buddies stand in front of the lights and shift from one foot to the other. That's the sum of your horrifying FX.
Picture this. You see some goat-roper in line at Wal-Mart with 1978 REO Speedwagon hair and so skinny, his jeans fit exactly the same with the fly in the front or the back. That's your male lead. Oh - identify him as a "California rock singer" so everybody will know that he's supposed to be terminally hip.
Picture this. You want to establish your female lead as being hopelessly sensitive. So you have her read an Edgar Allen Poe poem to the male lead in the back of an RV. It works too well - his voice-over tells us he's now afraid of losing his cool.
This doesn't give you even a hint of how loathsome Night of Horror is. I've seen it cause even hardened veterans of the Bad Movie Wars to hit the Eject button screaming after the first twenty minutes. Manos at least had the studly cape. Zombie Lake had the naked girls' basketball team treading water. They Saved Hitler's Brain at least had Hitler's head mugging it up in the back seat. But Night of Horror has NOTHING. NOTHING. NOT ONE MOMENT of inspiration, humor, or gratuitous nay-nays. NOT ONE FRAME that doesn't look like it was shot in a koi pond and processed in bongwater.
And this turkey di tutti turkeys ACTUALLY FOUND A DISTRIBUTOR. Do you understand what that means? I have no doubt that all around the world people have worse films sitting in cans in ancient Kelvinators rattling away in mouldering tool sheds, that they just can't make themselves take to the dump. But Night of Horror actually caused money to change hands - somebody screened this excrescence, said, "Yeah, I think I can make a buck off that," and cut Malanowski a check.
We're there. This is it. We've touched bottom. Until Battlefield Earth 2 premieres, The Worst Movie Ever Made.
helpful•341
- eminges
- Aug 12, 2001
Details
Box office
- Budget
- $4,000 (estimated)
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