While two nincompoop investigators sift through a rubble of carnal train wrecks, a bunch of sexually comprised high school graduates sift through the town’s laundry list of creeps, weasels and scumbags, racking up body counts in Cemetery High.  The babes who have suffered all kinds of indignities at the hands of these jerks have devised a simple equation: touch my semi-naked ass… you die!

Hey, is this I Spit On Your Grave for laughs, or what?

Those escapades from the funny farm, director Gorman Bechard and writer Carmine Capobianco (Psychos in Love, Galactic Gigolo) faithfully regurgitate every cliché from Ms. 45 to Lady Terminator and come up with a sometimes dingy, sometimes sexy airheaded babes vs. bozos non-blood bath.  A delightful piece of maladjusted filmmaking as long as you’re maladjusted enough to appreciate it.  Recommended to video store owners who do well with offbeat items.

The Occultist has a pretty decent plot – that of a floundering security firm needing a monumental contract with a voodoo-rife Caribbean isle to survive.  What makes the whole thing patently absurd and strangely enjoyable is the total lack of commitment to emotion. Just about every character in this potpourri of de ja voodoo comes off like a zombie on a Quaalude.  A little bit of eroticism thrown in if you like semi-naked, writhing dancers.  A cult classic-type offering.