There are bad horror films, and then there are films so utterly incompetent that they feel like a prank played on the audience. Invasion of the Blood Farmers, directed by Ed Adlum, belongs in that second category. Shot in upstate New York with a cast of local volunteers, props scavenged from thrift shops, and a script apparently scribbled on cocktail napkins, this is the kind of movie that makes you reconsider your life choices for watching it.
Plot? What Plot?
The story concerns the Sangroids — druids disguised as farmers who drain people of their blood in order to resurrect their queen, Onhorrid. Already, you can hear the screenwriter’s brain cells wheezing under the weight of their own stupidity.
Dr. Roy Anderson, a scientist played with all the charisma of a wax dummy, discovers that blood cells are multiplying at an “impossibly fast rate.” His scientific breakthrough? A mixture of iodine and household ammonia can stop it. Yes, the fate of humanity rests on a bottle of CVS-brand cleaning products. Move over, Van Helsing.
Farmers, Druids, or Just Guys in Overalls?
The Sangroids are meant to be sinister cultists. In practice, they look like out-of-work extras from a local tractor commercial. Their leader, Creton (Paul Craig Jennings), shouts gibberish about ancient keys and blood purity while looking like he’s worried his lunch break is almost over.
Egon, the bumbling farmer, manages to beat a dog to death with a cane — a moment that’s supposed to be terrifying but comes across like a PSA about animal cruelty filmed by sadists with no budget. And then there’s Queen Onhorrid herself, who spends most of the movie as a corpse in a bikini before finally resurrecting long enough to be doused in household cleaning fluid. Cinema at its finest.
Performances: Fear by High School Drama
Norman Kelley as Dr. Roy Anderson delivers his lines as though he’s reading the instructions off a cough syrup bottle. Tanna Hunter (Jenny) screams a lot, but her terror is so unconvincing you half expect her to start laughing mid-abduction. Bruce Detrick (Don) has the screen presence of a malfunctioning blender.
Everyone speaks as though they’ve been dubbed over by themselves — slightly out of sync with reality. You can almost hear the director whispering “just say the words” from behind the camera.
Production Values: Shot in Someone’s Backyard
The film looks like it was made for about twenty bucks and a promise of free beer. Most of the action takes place in forests, quarries, and somebody’s barn. Lighting is inconsistent, the editing is choppy, and the sound design makes you wonder if they were using an actual tape recorder duct-taped to a lawnmower.
The gore effects consist of red corn syrup splashed around liberally, while the climactic resurrection scene has all the majesty of a junior high Halloween dance.
The Pacing: 77 Minutes That Feel Like Forever
At only 77 minutes, the film should breeze by. Instead, it feels like an eternity. Endless walking through woods. Endless babbling about keys, queens, and blood purity. Endless close-ups of actors trying desperately not to look directly into the camera. By the 60-minute mark, you’re rooting for the druids to win just so the movie will end.
Dark Humor in the Dregs
There’s unintentional comedy in spades:
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The all-powerful Sangroids have their plans undone by a jar of iodine and ammonia. Truly, the world’s least intimidating weakness.
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The key to resurrecting their queen is literally called the Key of Menanon, which sounds like something lost down the back of a couch.
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Queen Onhorrid’s resurrection, hyped for the entire film, results in a bikini-clad woman standing awkwardly in a quarry before being instantly dissolved like a bad science fair project.
It’s less horror than Weekend at Bernie’s with druids.
Final Verdict
Invasion of the Blood Farmers is a masterclass in how not to make a horror movie. It’s cheap, amateurish, badly acted, and unintentionally hilarious. It doesn’t frighten, it barely entertains, but it does amuse in that “so-bad-it’s-good” way — provided you’ve had a few drinks and lowered your expectations to basement level.
Leonard Maltin might have written: Invasion of the Blood Farmers (1972). Amateur horror about druid farmers draining blood to resurrect their queen. Incoherent, cheap, unintentionally funny. Utter trash, with occasional camp value. BOMB.
And the dark humor closer: The scariest part of the movie isn’t the blood farmers, the druids, or the queen — it’s realizing the cast probably had to go back to work at the hardware store the next morning.
