Once upon a time I started a feature called Terror Tapes here at Horror Squad. My vision was to give unsung, sometimes for good reason, horror films that never made the format leap from VHS to DVD their moment in the sun. Being that Austin is the home of the two greatest video stores known to man, Vulcan Video and I Luv Video, it seemed the ideal outlet for my already obsessive renting habits. I was enjoying hunting for titles and researching each one to make sure it was unavailable on DVD. The films displayed a range in quality that can only be accurately measured by the Hubble telescope, but there were a few winners and in the bunch. Hell, even the worst of these tapes proved entertaining for one reason or another.

But then tragedy struck, my VCR died. I found that it was much harder to procure a replacement in Austin than I could have possibly imagined. For what seemed an eternity, I wanted for low caliber films in Hi-Fi. Then, as if ordained by Cthulu himself, one of my like-minded horrophiles presented me with not one but two VCRs; a donation to perpetuate the madness of Terror Tapes. I want to extend a special thanks to Noah Lee, loyal reader and commenter here at Horror Squad, for his generosity.

To repay him, I am subjecting everyone to The Outing. The Outing opens on a trio of the most stereotypical red necks this side of the Sawyer family. They concoct a get-rich-quick scheme revolving around the home of an old Gypsy woman...and the ransacking of said home. When they arrive, they are frustrated to find nothing a any real value. In a rage, they begin dismantling the old woman's bedroom while she lies helpless on the floor. In one of her walls the redneck chieften finds an old chest harboring an even older lamp. When he makes the completely obligatory choice to rub the lamp, he unleashes a force that proceeds to tear the bumpkin invaders limb from limb. In a gross mishandling of a crime scene, the lamp ends up transported from the old woman's home to the local museum. While the curator and his assistant work hard to crack the lamp's ancient mystery, the curator's daughter works hard to upset her father by planning an unauthorized lock-in at the museum. If you think the rednecks got super murdered...her friends also get that.


I will curb the suspense, The Outing is a bad, bad film. It was made for nothing over a weekend in Houston and displays about as much craft as a vehicle for a cadre of people who never worked again could contain. After watching a scant five minutes of this film, it becomes painfully obvious why this film never made the leap to DVD. Alright, alright, I'm lying. The film did get a DVD release but once it went out of print, nearly immediately thereafter, the lack of outcry for a rerelease was less than astounding. Bad acting, mindless story, and a production value that rivals most corporate training videos. Our lead "actress" seems like she not only chose the wrong profession, but her utter lack of grasp on the meanings of words themselves beg the question as to whether she was birthed on this planet.

All insulting aside, The Outing is not entirely unwatchable. The kills are, at times, decently interesting and somewhat entertaining. These all sound like hopelessly back-handed compliments but the film does nothing to warrant higher praise. One particular dispatching that stands out immediately is that of the grand high redneck. When he puts an axe blade into the forehead of the old woman, he clearly assumes the matter is closed, but then then the evil genie inhabits her and engages in a bit of quid pro quo. She pulls the redneck's face down onto the second side of the double-bladed axe in a tender moment of intimacy and skull-splitting. As enjoyable as that kill was, my favorite has to be the museum employee who is elevated by the telekinetic powers of the genie and has a nasty encounter with a ceiling fan. The amount of cheap gore suddenly strewn across his desk is hilarious.

The movie is not without its bold moments either. By bold, I of course mean awkward, nasty, and completely counter to the feel of the rest of the film. There is one particular scene wherein our heroine's ex-boyfriend, who has already tried to kill her twice without anyone seeming to care that much, follows her and her friends to the basement of the museum. The ex-boyfriend, and his cronies, adorn ancient masks and proceed to rape one her friends. It was as if they were rehearsing for the high school theater club's production of The Wicker Man. Though it made the deaths of these cretins, mere moments later, all the more satisfying, it was mondo superfluous. It was as if the film were trying to fool us into believing it had a gritty edge to what is an otherwise bubblegum slasher flick.

The design of the monster itself is not terrible. The over-sized, rubbery genie is a fairly adequate practical effect and actually pulls off imposing when it enters a foggy room. It is a bit ridiculous to watch it chase the various characters because it becomes painfully evident that it is mounted to some kind of dolly and that two grips are doing their best to bring it to life by running tirelessly behind it. Overall, almost worth the torturous build up to its reveal.

As you can imagine with a film featuring a malevolent genie, the concept of "be careful what you wish for" is played with near the end. The problem is it is played with in the same manner a very small puppy plays with an enormous ball. It hits on it, but fails to latch on and ends up tripping all over itself in a dopey display of uncoordinated silliness. Be on the look out for the not-so-clever "gotcha" moment.