"Death is only death -- swine!"

Why is it always nighttime? There are scarcely any scenes that take place in the daytime in Sorceress, and I can only assume it's a metaphor for the dark void of creativity, goodness, and common human decency that curses this movie. Like many unfortunate swords and sorcery flicks that couldn't get budget enough to buy the film stock (it must have been donated), Sorceress defies the lower boundaries of wretchedness and forges new territory.

The story is of an evil guy who wants to sacrifice his firstborn daughter. Why? Because he's evil. The complication is that his wife gave birth to twins, and she won't tell him which was born first. For some unknown plot-serving reason, he can't sacrifice them both. But a mystical guy shows up and saves the twins and bestows them with the magic power of turning blue. The mystical guy later walks into a bonfire to meet his "destiny." The girls are taken away and raised as boys. That they are really girls is a secret kept from everyone -- even the girls themselves. Only a satyr sees through the ruse at first. The movie's version of a satyr, by the way, is a guy in shaggy pants and a Halloween mask.

The evil guy catches up with the twins. He finds out which is the first born by pressing one of their faces into hot coals. People in fake monkey suits jump around. A guy with a humongous beard hangs around. When things get bad, the sisters call the magic power name that was said to help them get out of anything. What it really did was conjure up a ugly blue winged lion thing in outer space. It didn't do anything except breathe lightning on a floating head -- the sisters had to get their own silly hides out of trouble. The end.

There. I just saved you an hour and a half of your life.