THE SLUMBER PARTY MASSACRE
(1982)

Finally, a film that combines feminism and beaver shots.

Since I started taking review requests so far I had to watch Madman, Hubie Halloween, The Da Vinci Load, Twin Cheeks, A Clockwork Orgy and now The Slumber Party Massacre. Okay some of those were porn parodies. However  after watching The Slumber Party Massacre, I can’t say definitively it wasn’t a porn parody. I mean There hasn’t been this much death and jiggle since the Wave Pool at Action Park. HIYOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!

Don’t get me wrong, gratuitous nudity is just as much a hallmark of slasher cinema as a good band saw decapitation, but I’ve never seen a horror movie this close to a late-night Skinemaxx  Shannon Tweed retrospective. So much so it had to be a parody. Wait, was this a parody? 

Could this be an ahead of its’ time meta commentary on feminism or just  an exploitative wankfest?  Let’s examine slowly and creepily. 

If you’re doing your graduate thesis on the penetrating “male gaze” in horror cinema, then you found the mother lode. (“Lode!” Not “load!)

If you’re doing your graduate thesis on the penetrating “male gaze” in horror cinema, then you found the mother lode. (“Lode!” Not “load,” you perverts) I swear no woman in this movie even owns a fucking pair of pants. Let’s investigate,

The first nude scene is all of 2:06 in. 

Next the camera watches a suspiciously hot telephone repairwoman climb down a ladder butt-first, like it’s some sort of sexy Schneider cosplay.

A basketball game boasting the most wildly impractical short-shorts since Larry Bird’s junk popped out during a routine pick and roll in the ’81 NBA finals. 

Which then of course necessitates a lengthy locker room shower scene. 

The most gratuitous ass-pan in the history of cinema. Yes worse than the one in The Iron Lady. WE’RE ONLY 7:28 INTO THE MOVIE!!!

I was so appalled, I watched this three times. What kind of dirty old man directed this? Amy Holden Jones ? Is that a Woody Allen alias? No. Well some feminists heads just exploded. There goes your graduate thesis.

That being said, I’m not sure if simply being a female director justifies the seven Mississippi ass-shot (I counted.) I have to think it was at least intended to be a parody but it never quite got there. Which is ultimately a cop-out, any extra tit bounce can be passed off as irony.

Regardless, even with so much screen-time dedicated to the realistic portrait of teen girls in their 30’s talking about the Dodger game in their underwear, The Slumber Party Massacre manages to fit in all the usual horror movie tropes: bad misdirection, inane dialogue and a very unconvincing killer.

Drillbits Tailored

In order for me to drill the wall mount of my television, my neighbor had to come over to hold the base in place (Whaaaaaaaa?) to keep it from spinning. Based on this, I think a drill has to be a wildly inefficient murder appliance. Drilling the pizza man’s eyes out probably took hours. 

Inexplicably, you know the killer’s face and identity from the get-go. Not even Madman does this. Cardinal sin. Plus I had no idea why the fuck he was even doing it. I kept waiting for a hastily tacked on reveal like the drill killer got his junk blown off and ‘nam and the drill is his attack phallus. Where’s my Oscar?

The Good:

Trish the Mohel 

There are some funny moments, maybe even intentionally so. When Trish (I dunno one of the pantsless girls) slices off the killer’s drill bit like it’s an 8th day bris – that was funny. But then it’s immediately followed a goofy choreographed climax.
 
Why the fuck did the drill bit killer keep backpedaling toward the pool? The camera had 17 cuttaways of his feet nearing the edge of the pool in the most obvious foreshadowing ever. Spoiler: he fell in. The moral: Don’t get your drill bits wet, they’ll rust. Father Brennan told me that.

Fun Fact: 
Larry Bird averaged 15.3 PPG in the 1981 but lost MVP to Cedric Maxwell who kept his nuts firmly in his jock.