One regularly does not expect quite a bit of a film with a financial plan of £10,000. In fact, one pre-flinches and seeks after the best. These reasons for alarm appear borne out by the opening scene of the Blood Harvest with messy cinematography and an incoherent assault by a man in a skull painted welding cover. The following up on the part of the casualty is somewhat inert and staggering, which is a noteworthy blemish in this film (none of the casualties are credible as being frightened or in torment). The principal minutes of this film abandon us with the inclination that it is some kind of pseudo-grind house flick that isn’t deserving of our time.
It takes the motion picture a little time to get going. We are acquainted with the police working the case, one of whom, Jack Chaplin, has an “incredible” hypothesis that no one is willing to acknowledge. It causes a suspension and afterward, his end.