Watching this movie is like watching a car crash in reverse. It begins as a blurred, direction-less, and confused mass of visions and concludes with the climax and falling action occurring in a ten minute span. It's an hour and fifteen minutes of sex and drugs, until the director remembers that it's a horror movie and kills almost everyone in a ten minute span. To give a basic plot summary, a group of young women driving through the desert are stalked by a killer "ghost," who is really just a really tall guy in a poncho. The most frustrating thing about this movie is that you don't care for the characters, in any way at all. They aren't likable enough to make you want them to pull through, but aren't annoying enough to pray for a painful death. All except one particularly foul-mouthed girl, who is thankfully given minimal screen time and an extra bloody death, but I digress. Three of our four heroines seem to have double parked outside the studio, as they indulge in sex, drugs, and advanced stupidity as if they want to die as quickly as possible. Our fourth leading lady is plagued by constant violent visions and confusing flashbacks, including a memorable(for all the wrong reasons) flashback which takes the style of a Charlie Chaplin film, but without any humor or quality. Our evil ghost, channeling the spirit of Michael Myers, walks around in pure silence, the only problem being he is TOO slow and it takes an hour for him to get any serious killing in. Since our villain is traveling with all the speed of molasses in January, the director fills in time with enough bong hits to make Cheech and Chong envious. By the time El Charro actually begins his work, it's a good bet that you'll either be asleep or, in my case, toughing it out because you don't like leaving things unfinished. Either way, you won't see much.