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There are few that will be able to derive any pleasure from Curse of the Headless Horseman, a tedious, apparently improvised mess concocted to fill space on a double feature bill with 1971's Carnival of Blood. Leonard Kirtman is the director responsible for both films; while Carnival is a marginally better structured film, both pictures share endless babbling dialogue that has nothing to do with the story being told and characters who are privy to plot points that they never witnessed and could not have known about. In Horseman, Kirtman (directing here under the name John Kirkland) lets a gang of interchangeable hippie kids cavort before the camera, stealing bits from Billy Jack and singing Bob Dylan songs without crediting their source. The horror elements are added like an afterthought, and are hardly threatening. The horseman is never responsible for anything other than soiling some tie-dyed shirts with blood, and it's fear (and in one instance, LSD) that drives the victims to run blindly in front of trucks and have heart attacks. In a laughable attempt to secure a "name" for the film, Warhol Factory groupie Ultra Violet receives prominent billing for a brief, pointless scene as a wealthy French woman interested in buying the ranch. Her fifteen minutes were officially over after this appearance. Kirtman switched gears after making his two boring thrillers and got into the pornography business, directing many films under the name Leon Gucci. In epics like Deep Rub and Female Athletes, the director proved to be as inept as ever, but at least learned to include enough of the expected "action" to keep the audiences' interest.