here’s a story behind that old nursery rhyme…” A murderous, wicked old wizard was hung for his crimes, but before his death, he placed a curse on the townsfolk of Oakmore, which summoned a jack-o-lantern monster, Mr. Jack, to bring death and destruction. Every Halloween, the creature returns, stalking the grounds to slaughter those who cross its path. “Say a prayer for your daddy tonight.”

“The Pumpkinman! He’ll get you!” In present day Florida, the descendants of the Kelly family, responsible for battling the jack-o-lantern abomination throughout the years, must once again concern themselves with the resurrected killer. Young Sean Kelly (Ryan Latshaw) isn’t well-equipped to handle the situation; nor are his parents, David (Gary Doles) and Linda (Rebecca Wicks), who are preoccupied with setting up their haunted garage for the neighborhood children (which costs a $1 admission). When Sean suffers from bizarre visions of the Kelly farm from around eight decades prior, he becomes minimally aware of just how much danger he’s in – and how much slaying is about to befall his town.

The budget is so embarrassingly low that the acting, writing, cinematography, and special effects are utterly atrocious. Despite brief special appearances by John Carradine, Cameron Mitchell, Brinke Stevens, and Dawn Wildsmith, a couple of which appear to be footage from other films cut into this one, the lead actors are barely capable of delivering their lines – lines that are hopelessly uninspired and accidentally funny. “I like little boys.” The plot is essentially a bad ripoff of “Pumpkinhead.” And with no money at their disposal, the filmmakers are unable to craft a decent costume for the scythe-wielding maniac, which should have been the lone redemptive quality. Even the blood effects are incredibly pitiful.

Little is to be expected from the studio American Independent, particularly with schlock-master Fred Olen Ray’s name attached as a writer and executive producer. The onscreen title of “Jacko Lantern” can’t even be bothered with conformity to the word jack-o’-lantern. In an effort to combat the absolute shoddiness of its design, the movie incorporates a conspicuously gratuitous, random, lengthy sequence of a woman – babysitter Carolyn Miller (scream queen Linnea Quigley) – showering slowly, perhaps to give viewers a single marketable reason to watch.

“What was that? I heard something.” There really isn’t much else serving as entertainment value; the characters don’t behave or interact in a sensible manner, the suspense and terror are essentially nonexistent, and the pacing is sluggish. Almost nothing happens, though the choice of victims, ranging from thrill-seeking teens to an ultra-conservative, liberal-hating couple, is somewhat curious – as if intending to impart commentary but failing to say anything meaningful. A shot in which toast is sliced, alternated with a scythe to the stomach, is mildly clever, but the rest of the picture is predominantly drawn-out stalling tactics; the body count accrues lethargically, chases take ages, and the deaths are beyond cheesy. “Come get me, Pumpkinman!”

– Mike Massie