The Curse of the Plot (and the Viewer)
Directed by 19-year-old Lawrence D. Foldes, Don’t Go Near the Park feels like the kind of horror movie you’d get if a high school theater department tried to stage Conan the Barbarian using only whatever they found in the janitor’s closet. It opens in “prehistoric times” (or a California park with two fur vests) where a brother and sister are cursed to eat the entrails of young people to stay young. Fast-forward 12,000 years, and they’re still at it, which is somehow less horrifying than realizing you’ve still got 90 minutes of movie left.
Aldo Ray and the Paycheck Shuffle
Aldo Ray plays Taft, a historian who mostly wanders in and out of scenes like he’s checking to see if his ride has arrived. His big contribution is explaining the curse, though the script explains it so many times you start to suspect the filmmakers thought “repetition” was the same thing as “tension.” His delivery lands somewhere between “reading aloud in detention” and “I can’t believe I’m here.”
Family Values, Cannibal Edition
The main horror here isn’t supernatural—it’s the unholy mess of family dynamics. Mark (a.k.a. Gar) decides the best way to end the curse is to have a child and then sacrifice her, because nothing says “loving father” like sharpening the ritual knife at your kid’s sweet sixteen. His sister Patty (Barbara Bain, doing quadruple duty as half the cast) lures victims in for disembowelment, which is at least consistent with the film’s theme: family that slays together, stays together.
Acting, or Whatever This Is
The performances range from stiff to “I can’t believe they’re making me say this.” Meeno Peluce as Nick the kid sidekick does his best, but he’s mostly there to wander into danger like an adorable lemming. Tamara Taylor as Bondi delivers her lines with the dazed energy of someone trying to remember if she left the stove on. Barbara Bain gives every role the same tone, whether she’s an ancient witch, a creepy aunt, or a suburban wife—probably because the makeup budget was already spent on fake intestines from a Halloween clearance bin.
Special Effects from the Bargain Bin of Doom
The gore here is the sort that makes you long for the craftsmanship of Monty Python’s exploding Black Knight. Entrails look like butcher-shop leftovers, the “youth-restoring” transformation is just a dissolve shot with some Vaseline on the lens, and the glowing amulet could have been bought at a gas station. The prehistoric scenes are particularly tragic—two actors in animal pelts trying to look hungry while avoiding poison oak.
The Video Nasty That’s Mostly Just Nasty
Yes, it made the UK’s infamous “video nasty” list, but that’s more a statement on the moral panic of the time than the film’s actual ability to disturb. The cannibalism is gross, the incest is uncomfortable, and the hints of pedophilia are enough to make you wish the BBFC had just burned every copy. If the movie’s goal was to make you feel like you need a shower, it succeeds.
That Ending. Oh, That Ending.
After caves, corpses, and amulet-swallowing possessions, the film ends with Bondi smiling sweetly before disemboweling poor Nick on a playground slide. It’s the kind of final shot that’s supposed to leave you shaken, but by this point, you’re more concerned with whether you can get a refund on your time. It’s not chilling—it’s just one last awkward beat in a movie that’s been tripping over itself since frame one.
Final Verdict: Stay Far, Far Away
Don’t Go Near the Park is less a horror film than a cautionary tale about what happens when you let teenagers direct, cast your friends, and assume entrails alone can carry a story. It’s cheap, it’s sleazy, and it’s never quite sure if it wants to be a prehistoric curse movie, a family melodrama, or a low-rent Exorcist knockoff. Whatever it is, it’s a mess. The title is the best advice the film gives—only it’s not about the park. It’s about this movie.
