The film starts, like all good ones should, with some children being murdered.
Then an unconvincing pretend-American copperplod starts humping one of the survivors mum, the middle third of the film seems to be their entire first date which involves going to a forlorn amusement park and having an ice cream, then, oh fucking hell, I don't know. This is meant to have some supernatural element somewhere but the acting was so amusingly inept I found it hard to keep up with the absent plot.
Also, the picture quality was fifth generation VHS levels. Either that or they immersed the lenses in butter before every shot.
Having said that, in the last 20 or so minutes, there's some honestly excellent soundtrack shizzle going on. Half Carpenter-esque drumbeats and half doomy ambient stuff similar to the superb Near Dark score by Tangerine Dream.
So there you go.
You couldn't watch anything in the '80s in Britain without Gerry Adams appearing.
Aah, Rover SD1s and Ford Sierras. Those were the days. For some reason.
Scene of a mass child-mudering, cover the bodies in sheets and leave unattended. Standard investigative procedure in the 1980s.
"That's officer fist-tits to you."