With one of the very few hot iron scenes featuring a steam iron, this film has little else to recommend it other than low-budget desperation. It’s also a comedy. I think. Even the most devoted hot iron fan will cry uncle long before getting to the subject of interest – and then, the quest is hardly worth the effort. H.G. Lewis masochists will know what they’re in for, but normal mortals should take a pass. A rather plain-looking brunette is quickly offed with a throat-slash and has her face burnt to a crisp post-mortem with the Proctor Silex she was using to press her clothes. Yawn. Along the way, the killer rips open the girl’s shirt to briefly expose a healthy pair of nubile breasts, but even that can’t salvage this dismal scene. VIDEO LINK
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