Crystal Force (1990) – Laura Keats.

'Mom? Have you ever dabbled in the occult?'

Some cat REALLY needs to sample the overripe Karloffian narration at the introduction of this bawdy 90s occult chiller. The faux fisheye lens deal recalled vintage skateboard videos, so I was kinda disappointed when Stacy Peralta didn't ollie dramatically out of a nearby grave! Crystal Force is triumphantly Tromatic terror tripe, generously slathered with such flavoursome, creamed corn dialogue, any fellow Hallmark addicts should be all over this saccharine shocker like dead hornets in a killing jar! This is talky, hella talky, but the neat concept of a demon-possessed crystal ornament enjoys the musty charm of a semi-spooky 70s TV-Movie-of-the-week. Without meaning to sound crass, Crystal Force's softly diffused scenes of fervidly wet-dreamed in-out certainly livened things up!

I became strongly beguiled by the Crystal's eldritch power, the unexpectedly lusty quotient of T&A, and spicy interludes of Mills & Boon'd coitus proved irresistible. Performances are good, with exceptionally fine work from the gargoyle, once loosed from its crystal bindings, it hornily manifested itself as a satisfyingly bloodthirsty minion of hell! Crystal Force's compelling admixture of syrupy dialogue, MTV salaciousness, and Syngenor-like monster Mayhem was/is ABSOLUTELY deserving of a sequel! No seasoned lover of schlock horror shall remain unmoved by the righteously Slithic nature of the hellzapoppin' finale! The dusty reverend is played by some cat called Dirk Gammon, which is one of the most awesome monikers I have heard in a minute, immediately recalling one of Andy Sidaris's more implausibly macho action/adventurers.