My dear readers, while I hesitate to put forward any sentiment that feels braggadocios in nature, I often find myself thinking that I have everything a person could possibly want. Despite some financial hurdles along the way I have manned my post as the editorial head and chief writer of this critical publication for nearly three years now, and I have been happily engaged for thrice that amount of time. I have my own property, which may exhibit the occasional quirk but it still fills me with the distinct satisfaction that belongs to homeowners alone. Truly, there are few things that I lack. However, I say all this only to point out how unusual it is that a spot of ennui seems to have found me as of late. It is the damndest thing, but in spite of the aforementioned gratification, I am besieged by the nagging feeling that some part of me is left unfulfilled. I simply cannot imagine what it might be. Granted, there are times when in my deepest slumber, I dream that I possess the Sword of Udzura the Unclean, its corrosive spirit melding with mine as our combined energy lays waste to great swaths of the living and returns hordes of the dead to unholy life. And to be sure, when these nocturnal visions first came upon me, I was deeply impressed by their realism and persuasive sense of urgency. But I now suspect it was all just one of those tricky little metaphors that the subconscious springs upon the unsuspecting sleeper, and that the meaning is far less literal than I initially suspected. At any rate, the true source of my recent doldrums remains elusive.

Eddie Turner (Joe De Sue) is also quite familiar with feeling as though something in his life is missing. He has lost all four of his appendages in service of his country and were he most fellows, Mr. Turner would be stuck in this unsatisfying state for the remainder of his days. Luckily, he is the fiancé of Doctor Winifred Walker (Ivory Stone), a physicist who is convinced that her betrothed could be restored with the help of a little regulation-free experimentation. For this purpose, she recruits her former mentor Dr. Stein (John Hart) who has had remarkable success regrowing missing bits with a little help from his patented “DNA formula.” Though Dr. Stein refuses to make any concrete promises, he is fairly certain that if Eddie submits to an exhaustive series of injections and severe electric jolts, he may well find himself possessed of all his limbs once more.

Though the procedure begins without much incident, the results quickly become tainted due to the meddling of Dr. Stein’s assistant Malcomb (Roosevelt Jackson), who has developed a rather unscientific admiration for Dr. Walker. Malcomb adds a few extra ingredients to Eddie’s DNA treatment, hoping that mucking about with his romantic rival’s genetic structure will give him the advantage when it comes to courting. While this interference with Eddie’s intravenous itinerary still allows him to reproduce the limbs he had been missing, he ends up sprouting more tissue than he had anticipated. He grows a protruding brow and vertically expanded cranium. He also grows rather tired of sitting about the lab and decides to give the outdoors a try, taking in the fresh air and exercising his new arms by disemboweling people with his bare hands. While this is almost certainly an improvement on the strength he possessed in his original set of limbs, the homicidal rage he exhibits is a bit bothersome, especially when local law enforcement are able to draw a direction connection between Dr. Stein’s laboratory and a string of recent murders.

While the thematic and emotional content of a horror movie has always been more my concern than the technical ins and outs, I have spent some time researching every aspect of the filmmaking process to better understanding what I spend so much of my time viewing. Thanks to this research, I am well aware of the importance of sound -- while primarily a visual medium, the sounds in film are one of the “unseen players” so essential to the success of the final product. This lesson seems to have been thoroughly absorbed by director William A. Levey, who does not allow a moment to pass without the benefit of a full cinematic score. Great aural fanfare is dedicated to the sight of Eddie walking from one side of a room to the other, and a full orchestral climax accompanies an elderly patient thumbing through a magazine. Admittedly, some of the scenes might not initially seem worthy for such musical fervor and I imagine more cynical viewers might even suspect Mr. Levey of trying to suggest excitement where none exists. But I believe all these swelling strings and crashing cymbals are a reflection of his excitement for the project. To an artist such as Mr. Levey, even the most sedated scenes deserve the same dramatic import as Eddie tearing the entrails from his latest victim. I must admit, I found his enthusiasm to be infectious. When the end credits finally made their appearance, I was positively invigorated to have been in the presence of someone with such passion for every corner of their project.

Blackenstein runs 87 minutes and is rated R.