Even the bald Michael Berryman is more clueless and innocuous than volatile. In other words, it's Motley Crew tribute band and they are never once frighteningly feral. Mama could be a Native-American oracle with the beads around her scalp. As for the inbred hooligans at the center, they look like rejects from 'One Million Years B.C.' with tattered loincloths and Hall-and-Oates bouffant hairstyles. The family of soon-to-be-cannibalized victims range from dimwitted (Bobby is deliberately reticent to inform the others that their canine Beauty has been disemboweled and he won't divulge how he bruised his cheek) to hopelessly naïve (the mother mispronounces "may paw" as a distress call into the radio). The transition from day to night is practically instantaneous. This is a prime example of an underspiced premise that should be plowed further. In the case of 'The Hills Have Eyes' though, the original is painfully inert and while the runtime is relatively short, the film shambles at a plodding pace. Normally it would be considered treason to remake a 70's "classic" from Wes Craven.
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