John Saxon

A banker tries to relax with his wife by the seashore despite a myriad of distractions.

Queen Of Blood is a bad movie.

It’s grown on me. I wrote a snarky review in 2011 that bemoaned the final girl’s “fit of acting” as she goes up the stairs instead of out the door, but time has been kind to Black Christmas.

Between body horrors Rabid and The Brood, director David Cronenberg made a pit stop in the world of minor-league drag racing. The film follows a crew traveling the northwest circuit. They’re sponsored by a motor-oil company repped by John Saxon. Conflict arises between the team’s drive to win and Saxon’s corrupt motives.

Nightmares plague a group of suburban teens. A common figure haunts their dreams. He wears a tattered fedora hat and striped sweater. Burn marks cover his face and he has razor blades for fingernails.

Six years after the original film, Nancy Thompson returns to help the last of the Elm Street children—now teenagers confined to a psychiatric hospital—battle Freddy Krueger.

Someone is murdering spring-breakers and it’s up to a morose, undersized college quarterback and his townie love-interest to uncover the culprit.