by Buzz McClain
review
A reinvention of the longtime myth that gave the New Jersey NHL hockey team its name, this tepid horror/gore offering moves by the numbers at a single-digit pace, with long stretches of walking and talking about nothing interesting. The scenes between the district attorney (a still-lovely Lesley-Anne Down) and Christine Tatum (Michelle Maryk, the co-writer's daughter) are particularly awkward. Genre fans will laugh just as hard at the beast's costume as they will at the collection of clichés that pass for dialogue (written by Cliff Robertson and Mark Maryk). The final apparition is right out of the The Watcher in the Woods, which was pretty primitive in 1981 and is really clumsy now.
