So I just saw Crowley not long ago, and I’ll tell you, that sucker was a steaming lump of suck. I know, I managed to use a variant of the term “suck” twice in one sentence which in some circles qualifies me to be horsewhipped with a Funk and Wagnalls, but the key point to take away here is that it did, indeed, sharply inhale and cause matter to be transferred to the locus of its entry point.
Though it contains a couple choice terror hotties–not least of them the magnificent Lucy Cudden–there’s still not a whole lot to recommend this movie on. In fact, there’s plenty of reason to NOT recommend it. But if you’re up for a movie written by yet another has been rocker (this time it’s Bruce Dickinson formerly of Iron Maiden) designed almost exclusively to glorify a dead Satanist (that’s basically all it is–Aleister Crowley comes back from the dead, possesses a college professor, stages a load of orgies and then tries to stick around), then you’ll be just fine with Crowley.
But if you saw another House of 1000 Corpses coming and said, no, not for me, then you’ll pass this one by, just as I wish I had.