20 years ago, (in a 1980’s timeline, that is) the little mining town of Valentine’s Bluff bore witness to a bizarre and gruesome tragedy. A miner named Harry Warden, having been driven mad through the negligence of others, killed those he held responsible and stuffed their bloody hearts into holiday candy-boxes. (I like a madman with a sense of whimsy!) Though committed to an insane asylum, Harry swore that he would massacre his way through town if they should ever again hold a Valentine’s day dance. Guess what’s planned for this year?

‘My Bloody Valentine’ is an odd little film. It’s a slasher that doesn’t seem to commit to being a slasher, yet has no aspirations of being anything else. As mid-80’s hack-o-ramas go, there are certainly worse ways to spend an hour and a half. But we don’t really grade on a curve here.

The first scene is a grand example of everything that’s wrong with the picture. A couple dressed as miners enter an abandoned coal shaft. One of them doffs their clothes to reveal themselves as a shapely blond woman wearing only undies. (I’m going to guess she’s a prostitute, as this is a highly unusual rendezvous, and no one seems to miss her later on in the film. Of course, that’s true of all the victims. Unless they are directly stumbled upon, no one seems to think anything’s amiss when they don’t see Miss Whatshername for a few days.) The fellow (we assume, or else the movie would be really interesting) keeps his outfit on and begins to grope her. After she makes some of the goofiest looking fake-sexually aroused faces in all of screen history, he notices the valentine heart tattoo on her bosom. (Which is still in its respective brassiere.) He begins to freak out (which looks just as goofy) and impales her on a pickaxe. The camera quickly cuts away to the titles.

So what’s so wrong with this scene? Well, from an artistic viewpoint, it’s pretty crappy. Poorly written and oddly acted, it’s just an excuse for a little gratuitous sex and violence. “Well of course!”, you might say, “It’s a slasher film!”. But as slasher film, it’s rather flat. There’s no nudity in the scene, which is true of the rest of the movie. As for gore, the entire film has a scarcity. Due to ham fisted MPAA editing (and the cowardice of Paramount for not releasing an unrated home version) the film appears to chicken out by not showing us the actual killings. (We see the aftermath of the carnage, however.) It’s an odd dilemma when a film winds up being both trashy and timid. Now normally, complaining about a lack of blood or nipples in a horror film would be infantile, the whining of a no-brow slob. But frankly, this isn’t real horror, it’s a slasher flick. A few shits and giggles are just about all these films are good for. What else is there to look forward to?

The possibility of an intelligent story? Ain’t happenin’ here, my friend.

‘Valentine' is a prime example of what Roger Ebert calls an “Idiot Picture”. No one here seems overly bright, including Harry himself. (I’m sorry, but the scene where the motivation for his madness is revealed is really silly. Picture the worst actor you ever saw wearing blue greasepaint and chewing on a rubber leg.) No one seems to be able to run, they just fall backward and try to appeal to a mad-killer’s sense of reason. The quarry also seem to lack any peripheral vision that might help them in spotting that mutilated corpse in the foyer. The police chief is unforgivably irresponsible, after the second murder, he’s still willing to cover things up and let the dance continue in order to avoid a “panic”. (Maybe he thinks that the murderer is just kidding. Or maybe he just learned about law-enforcement from watching ‘Jaws’, I dunno.) And don’t even get me started on that “We’re trapped in a mine with a killer, let’s split up in the darkness and look for our friends!” scene!

Of course, the cast is still a cut (tee-hee!) the regular slasher fare. Acting is reasonably competent, and there is some stab (further tee-hee!) made at character conflict in the form of a love triangle.

Which brings us to the final and fatal flaw of ‘Valentine’. To anyone who’s actually paying attention, the identity of the killer is as totally apparent as it is patently stupid. (C’mon, you expect us to believe that with all that was going on, no one even mentioned the whole childhood trauma thing? B. S.! )

I’m not even going to comment on the crappy coda that’s just tacked on to serve as pre-mixed sequel batter.

But I hate to end a review on a sour note, so allow me ruminate on the film’s good points. First off, the premise is at least novel. By naming their film after a holiday, the filmmakers may have sought to cash in on the whole ‘Halloween’ and ‘Friday the 13^th’ slasher boom, but they did stretch their creative muscles a little. Setting the film in a blue-collar industrial locale adds quite a bit of color and atmosphere to the proceedings. Making the potential victims working-class adults (younger adults for the most part, but still not high school kids by any means) is a nice change of pace. While there’s not much character growth, there are some likable folks here (even if they are irredeemably stupid) and some of their banter is a wee bit charming. The killer himself, while no Jason Voorhees, is rather imposing. Clad in full miner’s garb (overalls, gasmask, be-lanterned helmet) and wielding a pickaxe, he looks suitably inhuman. Amazingly enough, the faux folk song played at the end of the film is actually quite good! (Which is how you know it’s not a genuine folk song. J ) Spooky and a little bit catchy, it actually manages to make the plot of the film sound quite chilling. And while we’re speaking of music, I appreciate any movie that takes a titular swipe at such a dreary, maudlin little ditty.

No, I’m not exactly recommending the film, but I won’t dissuade you from seeing it either. Just don’t set your expectations too high.