For some bizarre reason, Superstition was extremely popular in Britain - so much so, it managed to gain a theatrical release two years after it frightened the life out of those that had watched it on video. The plot revolves around a witch, put to death in 1692, who swears vengeance on her persecutors and returns to the present day to punish their descendants.
Attempting to mix the supernatural with more tradional knife play, director James W. Roberson ruins anything remotely exciting with an opening set-piece sped up to look even more ludicrous, compensated with a score so out of place even a kind-hearted alien, who was living with a suburban family at around the same time, playing the piano in a seedy nightclub because his bicycle has been stolen, probably couldn't match its randomness.
If you manage to get beyond the ridiculous lack of empathy for friends and comrades dying every couple of minutes, ignore the introduction of sexy ladies (their swimsuits aren't even that interesting), dismiss the inventive power tool death as pure fluke, and still find something that will entertain by the time the finale arrives in all its low-budget gusto, you're a better man than me. For the record, I did make it to the end, but it's nothing to be proud of, so I'll probably go and suffer in silence, or even worse, watch this travesty again.