Seriously. I just wrapped up my first viewing of Demonicus and words have failed me.<br /><br />I remember a time when I would see Charles Band's name on a film and my heart would race. He was never a Wes Craven or a John Carpenter. He was a bastion of hope for the little man. The guy whose movies arrived at the video store instead of the multiplex, but they still rocked harder than most of the trendy junk we otherwise had to endure.<br /><br />And now... this.<br /><br />A painfully-obvious Californian walking trail doubles for "the Alps" and an abandoned train tunnel is actually supposed to be "an ancient cave". I mean, they didn't even try to dress the thing up with moss or film it in a way that might suggest it was anything other than an old train tunnel! Ugh! Instead of a creepy demon gladiator, as the cover implies, we're treated to a dude wearing the latest in Wal-Mart Halloween apparel. There's a pretty cool looking corpse, who occasionally comes to life to belch and wiggle his fingers, but he doesn't even learn to stand until the final five minutes. Why couldn't he be the villain? Instead, we've got frat boy Joe with a plastic sword. Ouch.<br /><br />Charles Band... you should be ashamed that your name is attached to such tripe. I love movies that are so bad, they're good. Hell, I occasionally enjoy a flick thats so bad, its just bad. This one, however, is just unwatchable. A perfect example of making a buck, rather than making a quality film.