Among the worst rubber-suit monster movies I've ever seen, this abomination from the early '90s can't decide if it wants to be a corny kids' special or a gross late-night horror picture. Straddling both in lieu of a decision, it lifts a gratingly naïve cast and absurdly simple dialog from the former, then the nasty creature effects and wanton violence from the latter. I'd be remiss not to mention the awesomely overblown slash cuts and stock synth sound effects that accompany every change in scenery.

Basically this is action porn, with a sketchy storyline and intensely awful acting only present as a means of transport from one slugfest to the next. Problem is, between the imagination-free choreography and the awkward, unwieldy makeup, the fights are just as bad as everything else. Mark Hammill, in one of his darkest days as a professional, dons a ridiculous mustache and oversized leather jacket in a vain attempt to fit the part of a tough, grizzled detective. Like everything else thrown on the screen in this unmitigated disaster, it doesn't work.