No sequel for you!
When it comes to 1980s slashers, as a rule of thumb, don't let your story get in the way of murder. It took five people to write this film, and unless they all died on set, they should be ashamed. This script is weak. The dialogue is random. We notice how bad the score is, and we shouldn’t notice the score. The characters exist because we need people to bleed. At least people are going to bleed.
And that’s the best thing Body Count achieves; it’s loyal to its title. The gore is as gratuitous as the nudity is, and that comes with the territory. In true Italian fashion, the audio shows signs of struggle. Other than that, this is the kind of slasher where we only see the hands of the killer; not their face, and, technically speaking, not a mask they wear.
This is a slasher film without DNA, which makes it unimpressive and forgettable. Think Friday the 13th without Crystal Lake and, well, without Jason Voorhees. It’s blood without prosthetic, tension without the build-up... and why is this movie so dark? Make no mistake, you’ll have a good time if you know what you’re getting into, but let’s just say there’s a reason it didn’t get a sequel... yet.