Blonde Heaven (1994, USA)

Among the untold number of pseudonyms used by David DeCoteau to spit out straight-to-video fodder is that of Ellen Cabot, the name that heads this pitiable atrocity. Could it be that the man who has hoisted upon the public such internationally acclaimed masterpieces and major box office hits like Sorority Succubus Sisters (1987), Retro Puppet Master (1999) and Beach Babes from Beyond (1993) actually shames himself too much to reveal to the world the real person behind video abortions like this one? I wish, but all truth be told, DeCoteau has never seemingly never felt ashamed about any of the offal he keeps regurgitating… but then, making crap like this is probably a lot more fun than the jobs you or I have.

That said, Blonde Heaven—no ands, ifs or buts about it—sucks, and not just because it’s (supposedly) a vampire film. Even at fast forward this piece of celluloid detritus is much too long; for all the silicone mountains featured onscreen, this flick is a visual torture that makes one beg to go blind. Populated with never-have-been, never-will-be and already have been silicon-pumped bimbos (like Julie Strain) and muscular workout-room junkies, no plot is anywhere to be found between the excessively long flesh parades. Sure, there is some mumbo jumbo about vampires running an escort agency, a brainless cowboy from Oklahoma out to save his "I want more from life than babies" ex-girlfriend and a vampire-hunting film projectionist, but any attempts at establishing a plot or the viewer’s interest are tossed aside and obliterated by the excruciatingly long, boring and un-erotic soft-core scenes.
Fact is, Blonde Heaven is basically a dickless porno film. Its entire structure is that of a Solitary Hand Job Assistant in that every three minutes of non-existent narrative is followed by a 10-minute sex scene, only the sex scenes feature no sex—just a lot of artificial, perfectly sculptured bodies moving back and forth, up and down, side to side and all around. Were Blonde Heaven a hardcore wank-fest video, it would at least have one redeemable feature. As it is, whether titled Blonde Heaven or Morgana, the flick is nothing more than a good argument for killing the director.