No, this isn’t a documentary about the latest installment of the Spears family. This is about Satan worship, the holy grail of endless plots for horror movies.

See, the Devil can never truly be vanquished. So even if Lou Diamond Phillips sends him back to Hell, the Governator can still make a turn-of-the-century flop and call ol’ Lucifer a choir boy before some bad CGI assaults viewers’ eyeballs. Yet there are still enough potential Satan stories to make movies until the real Lord of Darkness is let loose from his prison and destroys all Hollywood studios once and for all.

Enter Susan Barnes, a young, unassuming child of tender disposition. Enter, also, some crusty old woman with black teeth who serves the Dark Lord himself.

After suffering an inquisition at the hands of Italian police, the crusty woman opts to throw herself out a window and onto terra firma instead of giving up where a kidnapped child will be sacrificed to Satan. She dies. She then inhabits young Susan Barnes’ soul, and what follows is 70 minutes of slapstick hilarity.

Now, we don’t want to tell filmmakers how to do their job (yes we do), but it would seem logical to us that if there were a group of Devil-doting baddies, there should be some required level of nudity fulfilled here. Come on, what was Luc all about if not carnal indulgence?

And while there is a hot demon underling who does wicked things, she does them fully clothed. Disappointing.

Getting down to brass tacks. Five killings running the gamut. Concrete swan dive suicide to sacrifice unbaptized baby. A defiled grave turned pyro tailgate. Top-notch spiritual possession with accompanying levitation. Winding down to a truly righteous smiting, a plague of toads and telekinetically hurled books and furniture just to let every one know this isn’t some phase that Susan is going through.

Two kegs. See it tonight.

Demon Witch Child is currently available. Think you’ve seen something worse or seen something at the video store you don’t have the guts to rent? Send in any requests that aren’t Manos: The Hands of Fate to, and we’ll brave the rapids.