"Combat Shock/American Nightmares"(1986)d/Buddy Giovinazzo

As a much younger Wop than the one you're gazing at lovingly before you,I remember being Christmas morning-excited when Buddy G.'s symphony of shellshock was finally given its vhs baptism,after hearing so much about it in the pages of my favorite horror 'zines of the day like Chas Balun's Deep Red.I rallied the neighborhood troops that night and we screened it on the woodgrain Magnavox in the parlour,and delighted in the horrific,disturbing spectacle that played out on the screen like David Lynch meets Martin Scorsese-on-welfare and scripted by Kevin Smith.As twisted as we were,the doctor could have never written us a 'script of this magnitude,baby!Giovinazzo was on the page we were just turning over to,yet as quickly as we had discovered his venemous video visions,he all but disappeared...
The noisy whirr of the fast forward button brings us over twenty years ahead,where the classiest of the classless,Troma Inc. have once again gone above and beyond the competition in releasing this forgotten cult classic in a beautiful two disc twenty-fifth anniversary edition,stuffed full of mouth-watering extras,and boasting of two cuts of the crucial independent shocker,the original "Combat Shock" theatrical cut(which you probably missed unless you were a listless wino on the Deuce back in '86),and "American Nightmares",the never-before-seen director's cut!Fucking glorious!

The portions never look this big when I order ribs at the Vietnamese joint by my place...
Frankie Dunlan(Buddy's brother Ricky)has nightly flashbacks to the killing fields of Vietnam,where he may or may not have gone bananas,wiping out an entire village and his own platoon in a meaty bloodbath,before being taken prisoner and subjected to psychological and physical torture at the hands of the communist enemy in a muddy bamboo hell-cage.For Frankie,unfortunately,those were the salad days.Nowadays he subsists in a skeevy ghetto broom closet with his pregnant wife and one year old,brutally deformed and defected by the Agent Orange his father was exposed to while fighting for the American way,somewhere in the worst corner of Staten Island.He hasn't worked in months,the family hasn't eaten in days,the cupboards are bare,and the old lady in the shoe would have cashed her chips in ages ago.He dons his least dirty set of rags and braves the urban sprawl,desperately striving for survival.His friends mug people in broad daylight for fix money,his enemies chase him down alleys,shaking him down for money he couldn't dream of having at this point.He even contemplates wrestling a slobbery bone out of a junkyard dog's mouth.While he stands hopelessly in the unemployment line,his junkie pal Mike scores a hundred bag of skag,which he overdoses on in a dilapidated lot full of garbage,after tearing open his vein with a rusty coat hanger and dumping the stepped-on heroin into the gaping,bloody hole in his arm.Glamorous.

A vein-tapping that would make Joan Crawford's toes curl.
After striking out at the unemployment office and a phonecall to his father,who believed he was killed in duty years ago,and being slapped up by the local pimp when he tries to befriend a hussied up pre-teen prostitute,Frankie decides to take matters into his own hands,and mug a young girl for her purse.Back home,his wife Cathy is spooning stale breadcrumb/water mix into the crying mouth of their freak baby,watching the broken tv set,and washing their rags in the dirty sink.Ah,family life.Just as Frankie feeds his victim a hearty knuckle sandwich and makes off with her pocketbook,Paco and his ridiculously dressed henchmen chase down and reaquaint their luckless friend with the concrete.A half-conscious and bloodied Frankie discovers a pistol that had fallen out of the purse in the melee,that the female vic had stolen earlier from his friend's corpse(!),and exacts revenge on the three goons.He gathers up some ammunition and stumbles groggily back to his tenement building,his mind finally clear about both the events in Asia,and what he must do to end his family's perpetual suffering.The conclusion of this grim fairy tale will stay with you long after you've ejected the disc.Trust me.

The Dunlans might wanna skip that sitting at Picture People.Just saying.
I really can't say enough about the bang up job the folks at Troma(Thanks Evan!) have done with this film,and wholeheartedly endorse you running right the fuck out and adding it to your respective movie collections.It's easily the genre DVD release of the year thus far.Look for a full interview with director Buddy G. right here at Wopsploitation in the very near future,as a follow up to this entry.If you're any kind of cult/horror/exploitation enthusiast at all,this gritty little ditty has it ALL.Ample gore,impressive low-tech effects and makeup,an effective script chock full o' black humour(the best kind,eh!),and adequate performances by the cast,which was made up of Buddy's family,friends,and even ex-wife.This comes VERY highly recommended,and upon it,I bestow the highest possible number of Wops!

"It's only three swigs of curdled milk,Ricky,jeez,stop being such a diva!"

"Best Friends"(1975)d/Noel Nosseck

Here sits longtime TV star Richard Hatch's first big screen venture,and though it stands as a moderately groovy drive-in drama,in which I'd guess the majority of outdoor theatergoers had already migrated to the backseat by the opening credits,there's strangely enough within to keep the viewer interested until the final reel,not least of which is a decent performance by ol' Cap'n Apollo-turned-Tom Zarek himself,gods damn it.Director Nosseck is responsible for a gaggle of forgettable made-for-television movies,and truth be told,he doesn't altogether suck here,either.Personally,I like my drive-in fare with more zombies,cannibals,big breasted sapphites,and a coked-out Giovanni Lombardo Radice doesn't hurt,but for a mid-week time waster,I wasn't too disappointed with it,despite the promise of rape-crazy injuns in the original one-sheet(spoiler:there is none.).I'll chalk it up as another example of your humble N's all too familiar obsession with all things seventies.

Why don't you just kiss him already,Jesse(Richard Hatch).
Jesse(Richard Hatch) and Pat(Doug Chapin,producer of 1979's When a Stranger Calls,hmmm...)have been best buddies a long time,as the staged photos(that appear to have been taken all in the same week,Photoshop would've helped) that accompany the main titles suggest.Though Jesse plans to change his womanizing ways and settle down with Kathy(Susanne Benton,who we last saw in "The Last Horror Film"(1982)),he decides to gather up Pat and his girlfriend Jo Ella(Ann Noland) at the airport with the promise of an outta sight trip across the southwest in a rented motor home to catch up and forge some new phony Kodak moments,as well.As they rack up miles,the buddies reminisce on old times,share some new yuks,and sleep with their respective women.So far,so good.When the two couples hit a strip bar chock full o' injuns,with a live band and an over-the-hill pasty-sporting hag flopping her saggy glad bags to and fro on the stage,Pat encourages an aniebriated Jo Ella to get up there and show the old floozy how it's done.After Cochise and Sitting Bull suckerpunch Jesse in a post-titties altercation,Pat sneaks out later that night and with a two-by-four,exacts paleface justice on the most stereotypical of the natives,with a huge feathered hat in a back alley.Best friends do that sort of thing for each other.

Now this is what I call "renting a motor home and driving carefree through the southwest with a couple of chicks".
At this point,Pat starts acting a little squirrelly.Maybe it's the scarrified mitt,maybe it's the long stretch of road,but he starts panicking at the prospect of losing his best pal to this...this WOMAN.He brings Jo Ella to tears with the announcement that he isn't really serious about her,maaaan.Then he takes Kathy to the store on the nifty new motorcycle he's bought,allowing Jo Ella the time to seduce ol' Jesse on a blanket in the grass,while informing Kathy that his buddy could NEVER settle down with ANYBODY,being a flesh-hound from way back.Even after Kathy discovers Jesse's tryst with Pat's girlfriend,she forgives him,leading Pat to more extreme tactics;trying to get her bitten by a rattlesnake among the rocks,then later trying to rape her in the motor home,leading to a punch-up between the two friends on the beach,with a bloody Pat wailing desperately,"She's had her eyes on me the whole trip,maaaan!"When Jesse refuses to allow his pal to cunt-punt his own girl,Pat rides off on his motorcycle.Jesse later finds his bruised buddy putting the moves on two high school sophomore girls in a bar(!),but refuses to partake in the underage goodness,further enfuriating his friend.That night,Jesse and the two girls are awoken by the sounds of Pat's motorcycle revving outside in the darkness,and when Jesse discovers Pat has flattened the tires and destroyed the engine,he runs out into the blackness,pistol in tow,vowing to kill him.He mistakenly shoots Jo Ella in the head instead.Oops.The next morning,both friends tearfully reminisce old times on the beach,with the girl's blanket-covered corpse to bear witness.The end.

These Indians don't wanna give you a complimentary drink with your poker chips.
Nobody involved here really went on to any semblance of a big screen career,with Hatch the most notably successful of the frakkin' lot.Ann Noland didn't even work in film after the end of 1975.I've been on a sort of drive-in drama kick as of late,and you'll be seeing that for yourself in the days to come.Despite the harsh cinematic gavel-banging I'm giving this little forgotten number,you might be inclined to search it out.Give it a screening when you have absolutely nothing better to do,and you might come away with a chuckle or two.If you're into broken bottle-wielding indians,groovy road trips,buddy movies,or A cup titties,you may just enjoy it.I sort of did,which is uncharacteristic for a guy like me.

The best groovy 70's outdoor blanket-fuck scene I've seen all week.

Beffo la morte e ghigno!

Yeah,yeah,yeah.It's been a while,I know.I'm back in front of the nerdbox once again,and I've got piles of movies to examine with you,so sit back in your favorite computer chair,or on your Sybian Orgasm machine,either or,and let Uncle Wop do the driving once again,down the boulevard,dirty as it may be,of despicable and dastardly flicks of yesteryear,both your favorites and mine.Spare me the grief,pass me an AMP,and let's get right back where we started from,like Maxine Nightingale once crooned when platform shoes and bellbottoms were the talk of the discotheque.We've got a LOT of work to do over here!


Cruelly,
Wopifex

Monster Dog(1985)d/Claudio Fragasso

Let the record show that I'm a huge Alice Cooper fan from waaaaay back.Some of you out there may have already gathered that from the review I did of The Nightmare last October.His legendary career spanning some forty years is overbrimming with dizzying highs and nauseating lows.Unfortunately,tonight's entry definitely falls into the latter category.After two stints in rehab nearly pulverized his musical legacy,by 1984,hard hearted Alice found himself at the bottom of the bargain bin looking up.With his albums being panned,the shock rocker turned to genre writer/director Claudio Fragasso for a film vehicle that would draw the brakes on his plummeting skid towards mediocrity.Not a good move,Coop.Luckily his collaboration with the man responsible for such non-classics as Rats:Night of Terror,Zombie 3,Hell of the Living Dead,and Troll 2,wasn't the final nail in Alice's artistic coffin,as he bounced back the following year with a successful heavy metal reinvention of his musical persona,and even scoring soundtrack work and a few cameos in some genre films,while this Spanish production thankfully sank into a quagmire of forgotten z-grade celluloid trash.Drawing positives from this mess,the two songs "Identity Crises" and "See Me in the Mirror" he provided for the soundtrack,though unavailable on any albums(save for the superior boxset "The Life and Crimes of Alice Cooper"),are excellent.Sadly,the rest isn't appetizing to even a mangy,starving mutt.

Sometimes I'm...a dead ringer for Bob Cratchett?
Vince Raven is a top tier rockstar(played by rockstar-on-the-downswing,Alice Cooper,and badly dubbed by someone who is obviously NOT Alice Cooper)returning to his hometown to shoot a music video with a small crew in a conversion van,like so many of the biggest celebrity musicians were doing in the mid-eighties(cue eyeroll).Only,Raven's hometown holds few good memories for him since his father was afflicted with a rare heart disease that caused him to not only fly into a primal rage,but display characteristics of lycanthropy(!),ultimately getting him brutally eighty-sixed by the superstitious townfolk.After maneuvering the seventies vehicle through what seems like an eternity of atmospheric dry ice...err,umm...fog,Raven is stopped by the local sheriff and deputy who warn of a ravenous pack of wild dogs that have killed several times already,then break his balls about both his crazy rock n' roll,and his crazy daddy that they had to murder years ago.Further on down the soundstage...uhh,err...ominous night road,the van hits a dog,and when Raven's crew gets out to investigate,they stumble across a bloodied senile lunatic who's patterned himself a little too closely to Crazy Ralph from the Friday the 13th series.Dogs,wind,moon,death...whatever you say,claret chin.When they finally arrive at the mansion,it is barren,with no sign of Joss the caretaker to be found,save for some sandwiches he has made,and a "Welcome Home Vince" banner.Pull out all the stops for the rockstar.

"¡Le todo condenan!" says Crazy Ralph's Spanish cousin,twice removed.
After some momentary visions of Vince in werewolf makeup that makes The Werewolf(1956)look like The Howling(1980),the crew's attempt at shooting a gothic video in the mansion is interrupted by Joss's lifeless body crashing through an upstairs window and onto the terrified leading lady.Raven,still decked out in his slightly embarrassing video duds and makeup sets off to look for whatever did in his shaky handed malt-maker.While he's gone,a carload of scruffy local rabble pull up outside the mansion,looking like extras in a Leone western rip-off,and vowing to plug the rock n' roller fulla holes,and free the town we never get to see from the grip of moon-based mayhem.At this point,the pack of wild dogs lay siege to the huge house,led by what looks to be nothing more than an oversized Mardi Gras-style papier mache' head,and brutalizing both vigilantes and video crew alike.When it looks like curtains for Sandra(Victoria Vera),Raven's girlfriend/video director,who's barricaded herself in a room,Vince shows up out of nowhere,and mysteriously the dogs cease their attack,and lie at the two survivors feet as they tip toe out to safety,where Vince is clawed by the titular giant head before blasting it,and revealing through off-screen metamorphosis that the werewolf was....drumroll...the bloody geryatric whackjob.Raven,now caught up in the throes of the curse,pleads for Sandra to shoot him before he transforms into something unintentionally silly,and luckily,she does just that,as he languishes in mid-sub-par,south of the border change-o-head transformation.Bloodied and exhausted,the female survivor stumbles off,almost looking like she's been raped(she's not the only one who feels violated,believe me),before a reprise of Raven's earlier video takes us to credits.Thankfully,it's all over.

Have you seen yourself in the mirror lately,Alice?
If you can get past the fact that very little happens for long periods of time...arond ninety minutes worth,to be precise,and a hokey script full of corny speeches like:"Oh, bullshit,Vince!The year 2000 is just around the corner. I am a recognized expert in electronic videos and you are the hottest rock n' roll star... in the world! You're making records, videos, movies ... on high-tech electronic equipment of fantastic sophistication. You can get on a plane tonight and be in Australia tomorrow. And you're scared of werewolves.",you might just get a few kicks out of this.Alice Cooper treads dangerously close to wooden cigar store indian territory with this performance,and face it,if you're a rockstar in real life that can't convince people you're a rockstar on the big screen...you're pretty much effed,buddy.The effects are piss-weak,the supporting cast is relatively uninteresting,and the pacing is bound to have you yawning and looking at the clock on the wall repeatedly.I can't recommend this to anyone,save the hardest core Cooper completists.


...More like papier mache' dog.

B.W. Goes to the Movies:Friday the 13th(2009)d/Marcus Nispel

"It's gonna be fuckin' stupid."I must've heard that twenty-five times since the first time I saw the teaser trailer and suggested to my roommate Doc that we should hit the theater for this new Friday the 13th remake.Well,no shit,Dr. Obvious.The whole series was never exactly renowned for any tangible integrity dating back thirty years now,and I had no notions this year's model was gonna be any different,especially after hearing Michael Bay's name was attached to it.If you've been living like the unabomber for the past ten years,Bay is the douchebag responsible for the reprehensible and unnecessary remake of Texas Chainsaw Massacre and its even less necessary prequel,among others.What possessed this guy who once directed a Great White(the band,not the Italian Jaws rip-off)video to take an extended artistic leak all over a beloved,nearly flawless horror classic like TCM I'll never comprehend(I'll bet fellow douchebag Rob Zombie might have the answer to this one),but in this case,we're talking about a franchise that has sent its trademark hydrocephallic murderer into space,to Hell,and midtown Manhattan for twenty onscreen minutes in the worst of the series,ferchrissakes.How much worse could Michael Bay make it?

Don't look now,there's a huge,deformed,homicidal mongoloid bent on blood vengeance directly behind you.
I'll lay the good news on you first.It doesn't outstink Jason Takes Manhattan.That said,it's still not a good movie.Sure all the trendy MTV camerawork and editing is in place(which I'm completely fucking tired of by now,thanks),the obligatory attractive twenty-something nymphomaniacs searching out a ganja cashcrop(didn't we see this sort of thing in the poop TCM remake?) that happens to have been planted..drumroll..not all that far from the notorious Camp Crystal Lake,where the horrible murders took place all those years ago,culminating in the lopping off of Mrs. Voorhees' screaming domepiece,and the now-commonplace horrible redneck-neighbors-in-the-know who let the revenge-minded retard dole out disturbing death from his packrat shack(oh yeah,now it's a house).Only now,he's got an underground mine he utilizes(hey,it works in My Bloody Valentine,right?Who needs the summer camp thing,anyways!).As for the protagonists,none of them possess an inkling of what could be lightly described as likeable personality.Not since Larry Zerner's Shelly in Pt.3 in 3D has there been a victim I've hated instantaneously as much as every single body that falls by the wayside in this disaster.The murders,which I've heard ravings about all over the place,are neither original,nor particularly gory.There's also only one instance of Harry Manfredini's signature incidental score in the whole film.Seriously,it doesn't even deserve this much written about it.German-born director Nispel should have stuck to Puff Daddy and Spice Girls videos.What harm would there have been in financing a Jason movie that takes the franchise off in a new and/or original direction a la Jason X,instead of forcefeeding rabid horror fans the same old pabulum repackaged and dumbed down a thousand times over the way this one was?Now for the scary part...This scheiße-fest is already doing extremely well at the boxoffice,so expect an assinine sequel in the near future.Ki,ki,ki,ma,ma,ma.

Seriously,Sackhead Jason should hit Antique Roadshow.Look at all that junk!

Curse of Frankenstein(1957)d/Terence Fisher

In the late fifties,the British gothic horror giants at Hammer set out to remake several of the Universal classics,this entry being the first.Director Fisher commits to celluloid not only an entirely different motion picture than the 1931 Universal original,but in several brilliant twists,avoids following most of Mary Shelley's classic novel in the process.Though Peter Cushing establishes himself as the quintessential baron toying with life and death in the confines of his laboratory,studio mate Christopher Lee struggles as the patchwork creature,despite brilliant makeup from the late Phil Leakey,and doesn't bring much to the role,save for swinging his arms around and snarling menacingly.He did very well for himself, attaining megastardom,revered worldwide as a great actor anyway,and did not return for the sequel the next year.This film would catapult Hammer to the forefront of British cinema,panned by some critics,but overwhelmingly received by audiences of the day,and remains a true classic and essential viewing for any horror aficionado worth two disembodied hands wrapped in a hanky!

That's right,Baron.The bowl of dry ice is firmly in place...
Baron Victor Frankenstein(Peter Cushing) awaits the punishment phase of his sentencing in a cell,when he is visited by a priest,who agrees to hear the condemned man's sordid tale.As a young man who has inherited his family fortune,he is mentored by Paul Krempe(Robert Urquhart),who later becomes the brilliant young scientist's assistant in successful experiments creatng life where there was once none.When the men reanimate a dead puppy,Paul's joy is overshadowed by Frankenstein's urge to take the experiment much further.The one time tutor reluctantly agrees to help the Baron,until after stealing a corpse from the gallows,he witnesses Victor sawing off the head,and realizes the world,science included,may not see the duo's experiments in the same positive light!When Frankenstein's first cousin,Elizabeth(Hazel Court) comes to stay at the castle,Victor neglects to inform Paul or the maid he's been sleeping with, in between their gruesome work, of the young girl's arrival or future living arrangements.Paul turns a blind eye to the Baron's nightly scavenger hunts for suitable body parts for his creation,instead trying to convince Elizabeth to find somewhere else to live,preferably someplace without a mad scientist!

Horrible makeup,even more horribly miscast;the brilliant actor casts aside the bandages.
When Victor has assembled the creature,save for the brain,he stages a convenient accident at his home for a brilliant old scientist with no immediate family,later removing the genius' brain from the cadaver to complete his makeshift man.Once brought to life,the creature(Christopher Lee)escapes from the lab,killing a young boy and an old man in the process,before a well placed bullet from Paul's rifle sends the monster from whence it came.When the maid threatens the Baron over marriage promises he had made to her during their carnal liasons,he turns her over to the creature,which he has once again given life.Naturally,the creature frees itself from the chains Victor has shackled it in,and when it attacks Elizabeth,he destroys it once and for all with the flame from an oil lamp.When Paul visits the condemned Baron in his cell,he fails to corroborate the mad story Frankenstein has shared with the priest,effectively sealing his fate,as he leaves the jail with Elizabeth in tow.Was the whole thing a figment of Frankenstein's imagination?Or did Paul purposely avoid telling the truth to eliminate his rival for the hand of the young girl?Only the guillotine knows for sure...

Elizabeth(Hazel Court)and her marvelously smashing twin corset-pedoes.
In the autumn and winter years of his career,Lee has gone on to become a sort of elder statesman of global cinema,enjoying several successful periods to this very day,though he'll always be one of my favorite on-screen baddies,and my top choice as a certain infamously undead,bloodsucking count!Cushing's career spanned nearly sixty years,up until his death in 1994,finding the actor reprising his role as Frankenstein several times,Van Helsing in Hammer's long running Dracula series,Sherlock Holmes,and even Dr. Who in the original films!Both men officially met on the set of this entry,though they had acted on earlier efforts together,and began a lifelong friendship,repeating phrases from Looney Tunes cartoons(!)in between takes.Terry Fisher continued to direct most of the major Hammer horror efforts(directing Lee twelve times!),his last being Frankenstein and the Monster from Hell(1974) before succumbing in 1980.This is a classy effort that makes for enjoyable repeat viewings,and as thus,it merits the very highest of ratings,and is highly recommended from your humble N.

That's an awfully nice pea coat,Chistopher.Really.

Slumber Party Massacre(1982)d/Amy Jones

All the...ahem...drilling... I was involved in this past weekend served as inspiration for tonight's entry.The screenplay for this longtime fan favorite was originally written by local poet/novelist Rita Mae Brown as a parody of slasher films,then shot as a serious film,and ironically plays as an unintentional comedy after all is said and done.Aren't flicks like this the best kind,kiddies?Yeah,I'm joking,by the way.Formulaic?You'll find more formula here than you could on Julius Sumner Miller's PBS blackboard back in the seventies.There are some uncredited Mark Shostrom gore effects on display here,an awful lot of twenty-something female nudists masquerading as teenaged high school chicks,meatcleaver-on-snail violence,would-be heroic voyeur-nerds,blatant sexual allegory involving the killer's enormous weapon and helpless female victims,a lot of the necessary elements to make this a thoroughly entertaining slasher flick,really.It might help if half your brain shuts down beforehand from a debilitating stroke,but then again,even that might not help you get through it.

Scream Queen Brinke Stevens provides my favorite scene in the movie.
Since her parents are out of town,Trish decides it might be high time to invite all her high school friends to one of those slumber parties that you'd be lucky to find middle school aged girls at.After a painfully inept varsity girls' basketball practice,Coach Jana thankfully sends the scrubs to the showers,where they spend a lot of time catting at each other,which proved compelling viewing to your humble N,and not at all any prolonged shots of Linda(Brinke Stevens)soaping up perky on camera hammurabi's.Honest.Valerie(the late Robin Stille),the new girl in school who lives next door to Trish,is sooooooo totally not invited.Oh yeah,mass murderer Russ Thorn,an effeminate-looking hispanic in popped denim collar with a two foot long industrial cordless drill that never needs charging...ever,has escaped.From where,is simply not important.I'm just guessing he's looking for just the right slumber party to terrorize.He warms up by drilling through the bubblehead of a telephone repairwoman,just as our two heroes Neil and Jeff take a called third strike while trying to hit on her.Linda eats spinning steel drillbit death next,after an empty classroom cat and mouse game with Thorn proves tragic when an earlier drill wound's cascading claret leads the driller killer right to her.

Meatsa,Meatsa.You'd better make sure Russ Thorn gets his pizza in thirty minutes or less.
Next door,Valerie has to make do by breaking her giant Shirley Temple-sized lollipop-licking sister in hot pants, Courtney's cazzies about doling out hand jobs while in fifth grade(which for Jennifer Meyers,must have been nearly two decades previous),then scolding her for reading her copy of Playgirl.At the decadent slumber party she wasn't invited to,the girls get their tits out directly in front of a window that our socially inept heroes happen to be peering through.Thorn quickly puts a damper on the wholesome festivites,drilling the neighbor,who's out cleaver-chopping snails(!),the pizza delivery guy,the basketball coach,the two poor male bastards,and several of the bubbleheads in attendance before the snubbed siblings decide to investigate the girls' gathering for themselves,which leads to a boffo showdown finale against the drill-wielding psychopath,who exclaims,"Takes a lot of love for a person to do this"(!!),before the sisters stab him in the back,chop off his hand with a machete,slash his belly open,and then skewer him on the aforementioned weed chopper before the credits roll,making the cinematic world safe once again for horny pot-smoking chicks to get together and disrobe in front of windows to the delight of nerds who plan their nights aound such gatherings.At least until Slumber Party Massacre 2 came out five years later...

Is it the power drill or the popped collar that makes the girls scream? We may never know.
Brown achieved her success writing best-selling mysteries,the majority of which she credits her own cat as co-author(!!!),while director Jones moved on to the much scarier The Rich Man's Wife,starring Halle Berry.Robin Stille enjoyed cult favorite status due to this entry,and later,Sorority Babes in the Slimeball Bowl-O-Rama,before committing suicide in 1996.Brinke remains busy,as always,between countless movie projects and convention appearances.This flick spawned three sequels,none of which I've ever bothered with,after having my intelligence insulted by the original.Besides the delightful Stevens,I really couldn't find much on either dramatic or parody level to maintain my interest beyond one or two viewings.Appropriately,this one's getting drilled on the rating scale with an unimpressive score of:

Randy Courtney(Jennifer Meyers) gave grade five handys,yet finds this machete blade dandy.