Bungalow 666 (1990)

This badly dubbed South Indian horror flick starts interestingly enough with a rather intriguing title sequence featuring some weird and promising music. The opening scenes show an amorous young couple frolicking around at every given opportunity. During one such typical night of teenage romance, our young hero spots a stranger in the house next door.

Later that evening a seductive beauty arrives in a cab asking for Bungalow No. 666, which happens to be the residence the mysterious new neighbour has recently moved into.

Alas, the very next scene gives the game away. The film turns out to be little more than an imitation of Fright Night, virtually scene for scene, right down to the irritating high-pitched laugh of the hero’s geeky friend.

Still, the movie moves along at a brisk pace and despite its shameless plagiarism remains considerably more watchable than most of the drivel being churned out by Bollywood in the post-Ramsay era. There isn’t a rubber mask in sight and even the mandatory half-dozen scenes involving scantily clad beauties being seduced by our fanged villain are remarkably restrained. Dare I say it, they are almost tasteful when compared to the usual Khooni Dracula style smut that emerged from the North.

The acting, particularly from the desi version of Roddy McDowall, is charmingly over-the-top and adds a certain amount of fun to the proceedings. There are, of course, the usual painful doses of comic relief along with the obligatory songs and dances, but mercifully one can always rely on the Fast Forward button for relief.

On the whole, while far from being a classic by any stretch of the imagination, and despite being an outright rip-off, Bungalow No. 666 manages to hold its own surprisingly well. Compared to much of the horror dross emerging from Bollywood during the 1990s, it is one of the least offensive and least atrocious examples of the genre.

A pity it’s such a shameless rip-off.