Here's one of those gloriously godawful "you gotta be kiddin' me!"-type of plodding and maladroit low-rent no-budget psycho sicko gore flicks that played on double bills in numerous drive-ins and grindhouses in the splendidly sleazy 70's. Indeed, this delectably dreadful dreck was paired with the equally atrocious, yet somehow oddly endearing dippy hippie terror trip-out "The Curse of the Headless Horseman" on a twice-the-tacky-terror twin feature offering that must have caused anyone who saw them together to either make an immediate beeline for the exit door 15-odd minutes into the first film or slump into their seats in a comatose stupor after the ending credits of the second picture finished rolling.<br /><br />A mother-fixated bargain basement Norman Bates-like oedipal wreck homicidal crazy brutally butchers assorted supremely irritating women at an especially dingy and rundown beachside carnival in upstate New York. That's it for the threadbare plot -- and said skimpy story is related by cinematic blunder wonder triple threat would-be producer/ director/writer auteur Leonard Kitman (who also puked forth "The Curse of the Headless Horseman" and later did a few scuzzy porno movies under the alias Leon Gucci) with a staggering all-out incompetence that's genuinely breathtaking to behold. Techincally, this crud is simply appalling: we've got slack pacing, an often meandering narrative that's overloaded with tedious talk and dreary filler, clumsy red herrings, grainy, ugly, frequently static and immobile cinematography, a grating score, ragged cut'n'paste editing, and cheesy splatter effects that wouldn't even gross out your grandmother. Moreover, the cast overall strikes out somethin' rotten: Willowy blonde lead Judith Resnick is hot, but vapid, Earle Edgerton makes for a singularly bland and uncharismatic hero, Andy Milligan film regular Martin Barolsky nerds it up to an almost unbearably geeky extreme as the balding, middle-aged fruitcake killer, Gloria Spavik hits new heretofore untouched heights in nerve-shredding celluloid obnoxiousness as an insufferably shrill and whiny fat old bag who gets her head bashed in, and Burt Young (Paulie in the "Rocky" series) embarrasses himself royally in his less-than-sterling film debut as a pathetic, irritable, grotesquely misshapen hunchback retard named Gimpy. Plus William Grannell (Jason Varone in the Cheri Caffaro "Ginger" flicks) briefly pops up as the long-suffering husband of a shrewish woman who gets decapitated in the funhouse early in the movie. However, this altogether stunningly ham-fisted honey does possess one exceptionally right-on asset: It's so rich and vivid in seedy local color that it comes across like a fascinatingly lurid and depraved mondo-style documentary on the grimy underbelly of the seriously seamy Coney Island carny scene.