Those are some ugly looking hunks of straw, sticks and burlap sack covered with resale store rags. And the cemetery they stand guard over is creepy, the abandoned farmhouse has a justifiable “Condemned” sign out front and even the rusty weathervane creaks in the night wind. Such is the setting a band of desperate paramilitary criminals parachute into in director-writer William Wesley’s tersely edited ’80s supernatural thriller, whose red-dye gruesomeness stumbles into near parody.
