Horror House on Highway 5

In my constant quest to review and collect as much horror as I can for the past 7-8 years or so, I have always ran across some oddities and obscurities that make me question if being a horror collector is worth it. Some films are classics and they just have to be on your shelf whether you're into this sort of thing or not, and others just make you feel like you need to take a step outside for some fresh air. That's pretty much my experience with Horror House on Highway 5. This film doesn't give you any breathing room once it starts, nor does it really want to. It wants the viewer to be suffocated with it's bland and empty characters, dull kills, lack of comprehensible plot (it's mostly some jackass in a Richard Nixon Halloween mask offing people) next to the main people farting around alongside two guys that I assumed were mentally unstable because of just how un-intelligent they are. I really wanted this to be a hidden gem for me, but once the final act just abruptly stopped after the poorest tension build up I think I've ever wasted an hours worth of winks on, raising my arms in disbelief saying "what the hell was that" to myself at 3 a.m. in my recliner just shows this horror veteran that this film wasn't for me. If there is some sort of plot, I didn't really pick up on it nor did I care because there are so many flaws with this picture that I don't even know where to begin-and they're not flaws that make this entertaining. These are crippling flaws that re-instate my questioning of being a part of this hobby.

Put them down. Tarot cards are not for you.

"I am not a crook!"

Ugh... this chick has a total man-face.

Was Nixon really that angry?

  That's one big ass piece of glass.

Dude, you're teaching-turn the lights on in your classroom bro! No one can see the chalkboard!

Who keeps chloroform and a burlap sack in their kitchen?! Nevermind...

These guys have been hanging out with Cosby lately haven't they.

 I don't think a black magic/satanic ritual is actually going to work with a clothing iron as the brand and these goofballs wearing black bed sheets as capes.

Man, this Louise chick has no emotional reaction to anything.

It's, it's-nothing! There's dramatic music but the screen is so fucking dark that I can't see what I'm supposed to be afraid of! Nothing!

  I will come to a close by stating this about Horror House on Highway 5-pretty much every scene contained herein feels like a steamroller on the verge of running out of fuel. They are so damn slow moving that I felt like I had to drink some coffee to speed up the experience of watching it. Sluggish is more like the perfect term for the way that these events take place as everything and anything that happens in this film just takes way to long to get to where it wants to go, and it drags the viewer through the tar along with it. The camera hangs in spots it shouldn't for long periods of time, and the people "acting" in this don't help as most of their execution of dialogue is extremely awkward as well as most of everything else that makes up this 90 minute sludge-hole that should just be avoided. Richard Nixon may have not been a crook-but he sure as hell stole 90 minutes of my time that I'll never get back.