Even in the world of Italian cannibal exploitica, 'Massacre in Dinosaur Valley' is z-grade dross. If you are so inclined, you can enjoy a couple of strapping, greased-up muscleboys wrestling in a bar; live cockfighting; piranha attacks; occasional cannibalism; a weird tribal ritual involving grass skirts and Halloween 'spooky-hands'; and copious amounts of completely unnecessary female nudity, stripping, girl-on-girl action, and the usual titillating 'rape' scenes. The weird drunken Thai hooker lady-boy in the Frank-N-Furter costume who spends most of the movie swigging from a bottle and laughing hysterically at nothing at all is particularly noteworthy.<br /><br />Unfortunately, the whole thing isn't quite so bad as to give it that laugh-out loud quality of vintage Hershell Gordon Lewis. Nor does it have the irony or sheer balls of early John Waters. A curiosity, to be sure, and the whole thing tries terribly hard to shock, but ultimately succeeds in providing nothing more than soft-core titillation for only the most undiscerning of viewers.