I read James Hawes book. It was pretty neat, not great, but entertaining enough. Without having read the book I wouldn't have had the slightest idea what was going on, and it was still a stretch with that knowledge.
Literally every element of this film is abysmal in ways I do not have the capacity to describe. Half digested fish could have made a better film with matchsticks and dayglo lipstick.
Never before or since as a film made me feel so angry. The Mattress sequels came closest, but even they never reached such depths of utterly putrid nauseating appallingness that this bilge did.
Since wasting 90 minutes of my life witnessing this plague on human kind I am now unable to even look at any book by James Hawes without feeling angry. That is the depth of hatred I have for this piece of sh*t. No, that's unfair. Let me apologise to all fecal matter for comparing you to the otherworldly evil that is Rancid Aluminium.
Plain and simply a cancer on the world of cinema.