Who knew watching a lonesome daydreaming New York cabbie Vinny with desires of being a famous filmmaker obsessively lament over a beautiful well-known horror scarlet to appear in his first film, while running around after her at the Cannes film festival could be so entertaining? To go along with that some unknown deranged serial killer staying in the shadows begins knocking off her entourage while filming it. Could they both be linked or is it pure coincidence?

"THE LAST HORROR FILM" wasn't what I expected it to be, mainly due to the unhinged tonal shifts. From an underlining comedic edge, it can turn depressingly downbeat to nastily macabre then back to kooky again. It's not over-the-top, but it sticks out because it puts a clever spin on the material, as it lures you into thinking it's something it is not. I kind of liked how the story evolved, being quite a delirious cocktail, as it kept you on your toes. Never too sure what direction it was heading. This led to an oddball climax to only be topped off by an enjoyably absurd ending that I don't see how anyone could predict. In all a very unorthodox experience.

What really came to the forefront is its true-to-the-facts information of the times it was shot to use as sort of a satirical social commentary of the influences of film on violence, where the script in more than one way was taking a shot at the narrow-minded assumption of those who see violent films to be blamed for the unstable descent of society instead of being a reflection of it. So with this viewpoint, making it the more interesting is having it set in Cannes, where the shot-on-location atmosphere added to the buzz. Still even with that feverish glitz of searching for stardom with a beautiful French Riviera backdrop, it's soaked in sleaze, unpleasant gore and a lingering dinginess when the killer hits the scene.

Then there's Joe Spinell. As he showed in "MANIAC", he's a live-wire that you simply work around. Just let him go, sweat and all, as his instinctive presence emits such weirdness, yet stays strangely appealing (when interacting with his real-life mom) in spite of being an emotional wreck leading to some crazy visions, and disturbing encounters in his on-going fascination towards the actress (the very capable Caroline Munro).

Deranged, obsessive and delusional psycho cab driver Vinny Durand (a gloriously crazed and off the wall performance by Joe Spinell) fantasizes about being a great famous director. Vinny goes to the Cannes Film Festival and stalks horror actress Jenna Bates (a perfectly cast Caroline Munro). Folks close to Jenna start getting bumped off in various gruesome ways. Is Vinny the killer? Director/co-writer David Winters soaks up the heady and raucous festive atmosphere with tremendous aplomb, relates the engrossing story at a constant snappy pace, and gives Spinell free reign to totally ham it up in a rare substantial lead role. Moreover, the murder set pieces deliver the gory goods, with a hot tub electrocution, a throat slashing, and a juicy decapitation by chainsaw rating as the definite grisly highlights. Better still, we even get a bunch of hot chicks baring their breasts with pleasing regularity and a deliriously trashy throbbing rock soundtrack. June Chadwick and Robin Leach briefly appear as reporters while such people as Karen Black and Cathy Lee Crosby can be quickly glimpsed as themselves. There's even a nice subtext about illusion vs. reality and a heavy theme on how movie violence possibly influences people to do horrible things (there are then timely and topical references to John Hinkley's bungled assassination attempt on Ronald Reagan and the shooting of John Lennon). Of course, Spinell's sweaty histrionics are the key attraction here and Big Joe certainly doesn't disappoint with his eye-rolling turn as one totally nutso dude (the scenes with his real-life mother Filomena Spagnuolo in particular are absolutely hysterical). The scene where Vinny chases Jenna through a hotel lobby gets mistaken for a publicity stunt by onlookers is genuinely clever. The fake-out ending is very cool as well; the closing scene with Vinny and his overbearing mom is hilarious. Tom Denvoe's bright cinematography gives the picture an appropriately glittery look. The shuddery and spirited score by Jeff Koz and Jesse Frederick likewise hits the spot. A fun piece of junk.

Joe Spinell and Caroline Munro, co-stars of William Lustig's grimy sleaze-fest Maniac, reunite for this tacky slasher that was shot almost entirely on location during the 1981 Cannes Film Festival, and, thanks to its technical shoddiness and pretty awful script, also feels like it was written, produced, and edited during those few weeks as well.

In typical slasher fashion, The Last Horror Film opens with a nekkid blonde being murdered in a hot tub, but, in the first of several plot twists (there is a double whammy right at the end),this death is quickly revealed to be a scene in a film that is being watched by Vinny Durand (Joe Spinell),a sweaty, lank-haired, delusional low-life who, infatuated with horror-star Jana Bates (Munro),travels to Cannes to try and convince the actress to appear in his non-existent movie.

When members of the cast and crew of Jana's latest flick (called Scream) begin to disappear, only to turn up dead several days later, the finger of suspicion naturally points to Vinny, the crazed, drooling fan who has been stalking poor Jana, but is he really responsible, or is someone else killing time by killing in Cannes?

Spinell, who was completely convincing as a deranged psycho in Maniac, fails to generate the fear this time, instead putting in a rather weak performance which sees him rapidly switching from 'threatening' to 'whimpering mummy's boy' in a rather laughable manner. However his performance is practically Oscar worthy when compared with that given by his real-life mum, Filomena Spagnuolo: she plays his on-screen mother and somehow even struggles to make this role convincing!

Also disappointing is Munro, an actress who usually compensates for her wooden acting by looking absolutely stunning; here, however, sporting big hair with blonde streaks, she looks far from her best (who the hell thought it would be a good idea to make her look like a cross between The Bride of Frankenstein and Elvira?). And she doesn't even get her kit off, despite a scene that requires her to run full pelt down several flights of stairs in nothing but a towel!

Fortunately, despite the iffy plot, and even iffier performances, The Last Horror Film isn't a COMPLETE waste of time: there are a couple of squishy murders (a throat slashing/decapitation and a bullet to the head); lots and lots of topless ladies (this is Cannes, after all!); clever references to some thematically appropriate current affairs stories (John Hinckley's assassination attempt on Reagan and the shooting of Pope John Paul II); and the film also acts as a nifty time-capsule—a reminder of days gone by, where titles like Cannibal Holocaust could be found adorning the billboards of sleazy flea-pits around the world.