Directed by Bill Hinzman
Major Films/Ross & Hinzman
Oh, MAN, there is so, so much wrong in this picture that it’s instantly vaulted into a vaunted echelon of that peculiar cinematic realm endemic to the underfunded independent horror picture. I mean, holy cow, John Russo – whose name I immediately recognized, attached as it was to the splendiferous delights of Midnight – was almost 50 when he wrote this screenplay, but that incidental fact doesn’t come near to excusing how incredibly out-of-touch he was with certain aspects of what he apparently thought was “youth culture.” But let’s ignore that for the nonce. After all, there’s the spurious dialogue to command our focus! Plus, as has been noted elsewhere, a bizarre tonal shift (think “Rambo”!) occurs at a certain point. I might tip my hat to the iconoclastic ending, I suppose – were it not distressingly pedophiliac.
Why Did I Watch This Movie?
I don’t know – I mean, I almost forgot I watched and wrote a “review” of it – but I was just thinking today about how a certain stripe of ’80s flicks are like comfort food … the lasting effects of which, of course, often range from forgettable to unpleasant.
This one’s more akin to eats you decided to pick up at a gas station. They may be bad for you, but at least they don’t taste good!
The depiction of the “high school” students is beyond compare. The “majorettes” themselves are a spectacle. I don’t think there’s a single character in this movie that isn’t a one-note self-parody, but I’m not about to go back and check. Everything in this absurd spectacle, with the possible exception of the buildings and trees and such, strains credulity to such an extent it astonishes.