Artily-chaptered haunted house story just a notch more complex than the industry's more idea-bolstered wall-to-walls. Bob Smith (Vince Vouyer) and his bride take on new property and progeny in about a two-day span, and Bob has the usual stripe of domesticated male meltdown about all of it.
The psychological stress (there's something growing inside his wife's tummy) makes him susceptible to visions of Devon en flagrante (two outdoor sex scenes), and his oogey feelings about his wife's pregnancy come to a head (if you'll forgive me) when, in Inari's ninth month, he hikes out to a deserted place to confront his visions. Voilá, Devon comes to him (but not on him) and shows herself to be... er... well, some kind of creature; you know, funny contact lenses, blood-gargling, that kind of thing. Her words of wisdom reveal that Bob is surrounded by monsters of her ilk, but his wife is not one of them.
Domesticated male epiphany number one battened down, cap'n. Decent videography, an amusing and dark story and the hyper-pretty Vivid people put the shine on an average tape, the downside of which is the requisite two-or-three-days-to-shoot carelessness and continuity problems. Pre-nom Thom MacCallan's trancy Amityville/tribal music.