I Eat Your Skin (1964)

No, not really. I merely sniff at it disdainfully.

This 1964 movie was originally titled Zombies but wasn’t released for six years, probably because it’s really awful. Then distributor Jerry Gross (ha!) bought the rights to it, because he wanted it on a twin bill with his own I Drink Your Blood. Hence the renaming.

A he-man writer travels to a remote island with his agent and the agent’s faux bitchy wife so that the hedonistic writer (kind of Mickey Spillane and James Bond combined, although without the character depth) can be inspired to write another crappy book. Turns out, of course, that the idyllic paradise contains a zombie army and voodoo rituals and other fun stuff. There’s also a hot daughter of a scientist for whom Our Hero falls; the scientist, naturally, is working on a cure for cancer.

This cheapie has virtually nothing going for it, including some spectacularly bad acting and writing (typical line: “I love your place! It’s so…. TROPICAL!”) and hardly any, despite the location, great scenery. At least the womenfolk are sort of attractive. Oh, and the zombies look pretty nifty, as long as you can convince yourself they’re not just actors covered in some silty white powder and with what appear to be cucumbers on their eyes.

Despite the title, there’s no actual cannibalism, which is a shame. It’s not that I feel misled, it’s that such an angle might have helped the movie. Imagine! Voodoo zombie cannibals! All they’d have to do then is add robot ninja pirate monkeys, and it’d have rocked!

I checked out the credits of the six main characters, and most of them never acted again. I can’t imagine why. A small plus is the short run time (only 84 minutes); overall, it’s on the level of most of Edward D. Wood Jr.’s movies.

I Eat Your Skin: *

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