Killpoint

As is often the case in low-budget filmmaking, Killpoint is the product of one guy spreading himself too thin, with main man Frank Harris writing, producing, directing, shooting, and editing. But he leaves the acting to the actors, and his stable is surprisingly deep (a cast of 114), if not all that skilled. Stilted performances are the name of the game, which is to be expected from the Hollywood hopefuls with empty résumés and a handful of actual cops given speaking roles, but leading man Leo Fong’s lumbering, mumbling, dead-eyed void of charisma is something else. I cannot overstate how unappealing he is; among the film’s many fighters who can’t fight, shooters who can’t shoot, and dancers who can’t dance, Fong is easily Killpoint’s single greatest liability.

Of the few people on set with actual pedigree, Richard Roundtree phones in a brief appearance and Cameron Mitchell is amusing as a psychopathic arms dealer. Of the rest, conversations between the members of the real-life law enforcement community are entertainingly inept. But for a movie predicated on small-time criminals wantonly slaughtering scores of civilians with military-grade firepower in the commission of simple liquor store robberies, Killpoint should be a lot more fun than it is.