The 70's blaxploitation horror craze hits its entertainingly sleazy nadir with this supremely trashy flick that somehow manages to be oddly endearing in its very low-grade cheesiness. Noted scientist Dr. Stein (stolid John Hart) and perky assistant Dr. Winfred Walker (a winningly spunky portrayal by Ivory Stone) try to restore dismember Vietnam veteran Eddie Turner (an engagingly earnest performance by the hulking John De Sue) to his former self. Alas, smitten and jealous servant Malcomb (deliciously overplayed with deep-voiced hammy brio by Roosevelt Jackson) tampers with the serum, which turns Eddie into a grunting grotesque monster who breaks out to embark on the expected murderous rampage. Director William A. Levey, working from a shamelessly trashy, albeit too talky script by Frank R. Saletri, manages to produce a reasonable amount of brooding gloom-doom atmosphere (the Gothic castle main location is an eerie beaut) and totally cuts loose with oodles of tacky excessive gore in the second half with Eddie killing various hapless folks. The scenes showing Eddie tearing apart people are simply hilarious; the definite sidesplitting highlight occurs when our hideously malformed maniac disembowels a shrieking topless woman in an alley way. The legendary Liz Renay has a funny bit as a shrewish victim with a horrendously humongous beehive hairdo. Robert Caramico's grainy, but fairly polished cinematography boasts a few neat fades and dissolves. The lively ooga-booga score by Cardella Di Milo and Lou Frohman and several get-down groovy R&B songs on the soundtrack both hit the right-on funky spot. A real schlocky hoot.