Jim Wynorski is a name synonymous with unnecessary sequels. BIG BAD MAMA II, THE RETURN OF THE SWAMP THING, MUNCHIES STRIKE BACK, GHOULIES IV – all completely and utterly asinine films. Jim, or Harold Blueberry as he's sometimes known, has peppered his illustrious directing career with a handful of non-derivative pictures, though, including CHOPPING MALL, SCREAM QUEEN HOT TUB PARTY, DINOSAUR ISLAND, THY NEIGHBOR'S WIFE, and LUST CONNECTION. So he's not a complete slouch, I suppose. The latest addition to Jim's canon is the relatively-erotic, vaguely-haunted soft-porn HOUSE ON HOOTER HILL.

Skin flick veteran Taylor Wayne stars as Tiffany, the owner of the aforementioned property on Hooter Hill. We never learn just how many acres Tiffany and her giant red breasts reign over at HH; a mysterious high-heeled stranger kills her off early in the film. This sets the stage for the gathering of her scantily clad friends and family, all of whom want to get in on Tiff's sexy fortune. However, one of them is the killer, which adds just enough tension to kill any hopes of a six person orgy following the viewing of the video will. Will these suspicious, promiscuous strangers solve the half-assed riddle their implant-bearing friend offered to them from beyond the grave before the Hooter Hill Strangler strikes again?

Yes, they will. They will also have tons of carefully blocked sex to impossibly loud and annoying techno music (all except the sexy young psychic, who has her own strange, ethereal crotch turkey soundtrack).

I have to hand it to Glori-Anne Gilbert (of BUSTY COPS 2 fame). She really steals the show as Sue, Tiffany's more-clothed sister. Her performance is so weird and cloying you almost miss the fact she's human. She could be a Jim Henson creation for all we know. Gilbert's not the worst of the lot, though. As the Hill's caretaker Wickwire, Danny Pape can't even stay in character during his sex scenes. His gaze wanders, almost as if he's never seen a film set before. How he got the nickname "Ace" I'll never know (he also managed to get his bologna packaged by the most attractive, normal-looking girl in this entire production; Danny must know the Devil personally).

I don't want to give the hair-raising ending away, but I will tell you it involves the otherworldly possession of one character's boobs. It's the greatest demonic mammary sequence I've ever seen. If I was let down at all by this ninety-minute masturbatory spookfest, it was because the fetching bimbo on the DVD cover was nowhere to be found in the actual film. Come on, Jim, you didn't pull this in ALABAMA JONES AND THE BUSTY CRUSADE. Well, who knows, maybe you did. I didn't actually see that one.

Shame on me for misleading you. Double shame on Mr. Wynorski for this slapdash bump n' grind when we know he can deliver product at least two shades better. When you're resume boasts such brilliance as the Traci Lords classic NOT OF THIS EARTH, there's no need to be slumming on HOOTER HILL.