Back on shore, Paul discovers Barbara has gone missing, too. When he inquires about her at the hotel, he's attacked by a mob of locals. They all appear human, but their webbed hands give them away. It's not long before he discovers they're monsters wearing the skin of humans. I love mysteries like this, which often have the human characters repeating, "What the fuck?!"
But look past all the superficial stuff, including horrendous dialogue, and you get a Lovecraft movie that's almost as fun as Necronomicon or The Resurrected. I don't think anyone would have blamed director Stuart Gordon for phoning this one in, considering the circumstances, but it's clear he didn't. Many directors who had to endure the misguided trends of the era gave up on making good movies, yet Gordon fights through it with enthusiastic energy that saves the movie from sinking. The editing ain't bad, either, considering what they were working with.