Brilliant and touching

It's fun, it's light, [but] it has a hard time when its tries to get heavy.

Clever, believable, and super fun to watch. It totally has replay value.

While it is a pity that the story wasn't told with more visual finesse, this is trivial compared to our real-world problems. It takes a good movie to put that into perspective.

Brittney (Valerie Williams), a successful super-model (despite her rather average looks), is plagued by bad dreams in which she is menaced by her obsessive dead boyfriend Ricky, who was killed in a moto-cross accident. Things get even worse when Ricky's disfigured ghost starts to kill off those people closest to Brittney. Could Ricky's power be somehow connected to the fugly music box he gave to his girlfriend before he died?A super-naff, A Nightmare On Elm Street-inspired, shot-on-video crapfest, Dream Stalker is poorly acted, badly scripted, unimaginatively directed, and blighted by terrible pacing and horrible sound quality (much of the dialogue is almost impossible to hear). Ricky's messy make-up is much better than the film deserves, there are one or two reasonably fun gore effects (in one scene, a pitchfork emerges from a toilet bowl to impale the user), and a sex scene breaks up the tedium, but for the most part this is difficult to endure.2.5/10, generously rounded up to 3 for the troubled teenagers dancing badly to rap music, and for the really bad attempt at mending Brittney's broken music box.

Super model Brittney (flatly played by yummy brunette Valerie Williams) finds herself being haunted by the disfigured ghost of her recently deceased motorcross racer boyfriend Ricky (Mark Dias in grotesque make-up).Boy, does this uproariously awful dud possess all the right wrong stuff to qualify as a real four-star stinkeroonie: We've got slack (non)direction by Christopher Mills, a plodding pace, cheesy gore, rinky-dink (not so) special effects, some tasty gratuitous nudity, a seriously scorching soft-core sex scene, a meandering narrative, tinny sound, rough cinematography, a tacky synthesizer score, zero tension or spooky atmosphere, and crummy acting from a lame no-name cast. An absolute cruddy Grade Z hoot.