Census Bloodbath: Back to Skull

Year: 1981
Director: Jimmy Huston
Cast: Cecile Bagdadi, Joel S. Rice, Ralph Brown
Run Time: 1 hour 29 minutes
MPAA Rating: R

Today is a day that will live in infamy. Even I, the curator of terrors that I am, can only face my impending fate with grim horror... School is starting back up again.

To cushion the blow I've decided to bestow upon you all an entire week of college-themed slasher movies. For those of you sitting around waiting to print your syllabus in the library, I hope this soothes your troubled souls. For those of you with diplomas already framed on your walls, I hope this will help you look back fondly on times past and appreciate your health. For those of you in high school or below, let this be a warning. And for those of you who never went to college, congratulations. You might just survive this week.

Our first subject is 1981's Final Exam, straight from the mind of writer-director Jimmy Huston, who promptly went on to do not much of anything else. It's a darn-tootin' shame, though, because his creation is one of the more interesting slasher offerings in a year filled to the brim with them.

And, surprisingly, not for the reasons you'd think, knowing my penchant for saucy captions and all.

Final Exam takes place in the last week of the semester at picturesque Lanier College. As the students study their butts off, a menacing killer knocks off a couple at a nearby school's Make Out Point. This scene already differentiates itself from typical slasher fare by the added dimension of the killer ripping his way through the cloth roof of a convertible. It's not much, but hey, the slasher is an enormously rigid genre and any small divergence from form is as rare as a successful album from a winner of The Voice.

Speaking of voice, Final Exam is notable for the way it enhances its characters and situations beyond the typical stock scenarios. Whereas in most slashers, the humans populating the film act as one-dimensional knife cushions, this film uses its characters to paint a rich tableau of college life, only reluctantly becoming anything resembling a body count picture near the abrupt finale. In most films (cough cough Killer Party cough), this would feel like a waste of time, but here it's a blessing, allowing us to fully occupy the world of these people and have them wiggle their way into our hearts before all the slashing and gashing begins in earnest.

Our meat this time around (I'm not even capitalizing the word, that's how much I believe in these characters) are Mark (John Fallon), the ringleader of the Gamma Delta fraternity and an overwhelmingly colossal douche - an impossibly titanic, orifice-cleansingly douchey douche, the type of guy who would stage a machine gun-toting terrorist attack on campus to get out of a test (yes, this does happen and no, this would not fly in 2014); Radish (Joel S. Rice), a cocky poindexter who is obsessed with the macabre; Wildman (Ralph Brown), a homoerotically-repressed Neanderthal who acts as Mark's muscle; Gary (Terry W. Farren), a spineless pledge who gets himself mixed up in things far too easily and who, after giving away his pin, finds his junk becoming the unwilling recipient of the world's first #icebucketchallenge; Janet (Sherry Willis-Burch, also of - ahem - Killer Party), a girl who falls in love like you fall asleep - every damn night - and clings on to Gary like he's the last life preserver on the Titanic; Lisa (DeAnna Robbins), a pretty young thing who uses her looks to get her what she needs - like an A from the lusty chemistry professor; and Courtney (Cecile Bagdadi), a down-to-earth girl who spends most of her time in her dorm studying or playing Solitaire and thus inadvertently becomes our Final Girl by dint of not being around when the important things are happening.

Very important things.

For the bulk of the run time, the story is driven completely by the escapades of these characters and - against all known laws of physical science - this is the best possible scenario for the film. Their plots and subplots collide and interconnect, providing an engaging throughline with a solid ensemble. And once the killing actually begins, you begin to root for your favorite characters. The fact that their deaths are brutal but not particularly bloody (think more Psycho than Silent Scream) means that you are hit with the impact and don't even mind the lack of gore because the film is providing you something else to chew on.

That alone is more than enough to make Final Exam a lost gem in the genre, but toss in an especially strong visual style and you've got yourself a lifelong fan in Brennan. The brutality of the death sequences is accomplished through strong stylistic flourishes and, in some cases, inexplicably gorgeous cinematography and lighting. Most notable is a face-off between Wildman and the Killer (Timothy L. Raynor) in the gymnasium, a hauntingly poetic composition with an impeccable balance between light and shadow that creates a stirring sense of menace.

This really makes me glad I never go to the gym.

Unfortunately, rather than saving the best for last, Final Exam hands off all its goodwill to its two biggest liabilities, the Killer and the Final Girl. Neither character is as complex or appealing as Courtney's formerly intact classmates and their showdown takes some of the air out of the movie until another character sees fit to intervene.

Katniss Everdeen's long-lost father, pictured here in 1981.

The Killer is just some dude with no motive, name, or personality, mindlessly slashing up a college campus because it was 1981 and that was just the thing to do back then. His physicality is impressive, especially in the body count sequences, but there's no reveal whatsoever and the finale lacks bite because of it.

Courtney is another blank slate, alternating between Laurie Strodeian levels of Final Girl incompetence and Tommy Jarvis pedal-to-the-metal fury. Luckily she shifts to attack mode often enough to help the uneven climax limp across the finish line, but her Katharine McPhee dixie cup blandness puts a damper on the overall mood of the film.

But other than the sputtering climax, Final Exam is a force to be reckoned with. I usually prefer a little more gore in my slashers, but I'm not one to turn down a good story, no way no how. This film reminds me of the fantastic He Knows You're Alone in the way that it paints a group of human beings one can really care about rather than butchering a herd of caricatures.

The embarrassing denouement prevents me from giving higher praise, but Final Exam is a unique, at times visually-challenging slasher film that reminds me why I started this project in the first place.

Killer: The Killer (Timothy L. Raynor)
Final Girl: Courtney (Cecile Bagdadi)
Best Kill: Wildman is choked with a cord attached to a weight machine.
Sign of the Times: When Courtney plays Solitaire, she uses actual real life cards.
Scariest Moment: The Killer accosts Wildman in the dark gymnasium.
Weirdest Moment: Wildman begins kissing Gary's neck and licking his ear after bear hugging him following a successful prank. But, you know, in a manly way.
Champion Dialogue: "Ducks don't swim at night. Their headlights short circuit in the water."
Body Count: 11

1. Claire's Boyfriend is hacked to death.
2. Claire is killed offscreen.
3. Gary is stabbed to death.
4. Janet is killed offscreen.
5. Wildman is strangled to death with a weight machine cord. 
6. Mark is stabbed in the chest. 
7. Radish has his head smashed through a door.
8. Mitch is killed offscreen.
9. Lisa is stabbed to death.
10. Coach is stabbed in the chest with an arrow.
11. The Killer is stabbed to death. 

TL;DR: Final Exam has a good head on its shoulders, depicting realistic characters with a strong visual style.
Rating: 8/10
Word Count: 1324

Census Bloodbath: It's My Party And I'll Die If I Want To

Year: 1986

Director: William Fruet

Cast: Martin Hewitt, Ralph Seymour, Elaine Wilkes

Run Time: 1 hour 31 minutes

MPAA Rating: R

I gotta tell you, I love slasher movies as much as the next guy. As long as I'm sitting next to a mirror and the next guy is also me. What I'm saying is I freaking love slasher movies. I mean, I'm doing this project because I desperately needed a productive reason to watch 300 slasher movies in a row. 

But 1980 is killing me. I have five movies left to finish off the year and move on into the Golden Age in 1981, but it's getting harder and harder to motivate myself to watch another crappily shot, abhorrently tedious proto-slasher. Especially because the next film on my list, Christmas Evil, is one that I have previously seen and detest with every fiber of my being.

Don't get me wrong. I love terrible movies with all my heart. But the movies I've been exposing myself to lately have reached such a nuclear amplitude of suckage (only rarely straying into "so bad its good" territory) that it's hard to approach the next couple of films with a smile on my face.

That's why I needed a shot in the arm to rejuvenate me for the long haul. And 1986's Killer Party, directed by Funeral Home's William Fruet and written by Friday the 13th: The Final Chapter's Barney Cohen was the perfect film to turn my attitude around. 

You could say it really lit me up.

Not so much a film as a collection of detritus that was dislodged from the back teeth of the 80's, Killer Party begins with a cheesy movie-within-a-movie which quickly transitions to a music video-within-a-movie in which real hair metal band performs their real (terrible) song "April (You're No Fool)" as zombies attack a drive-in theater. 

This occupies the first ten minutes of the film and is pure, unabashed Filler with a capital F. And it is gloriously 80's. I mean, look.

The frame cuts off above her leg warmers and roller blades.

This tremendously bizarre sequence turns out to be but an appetizer before the main course. You see, the parts of Killer Party that aren't obvious filler or completely drowned in 80's fashion and synthpop are few and far between. In fact, they may all be on the cutting room floor.

In the grand tradition of many a slasher film, we soon find ourselves in the middle of pledge week for Sigma Alpha Phi at Brigg's College. Three best friends make up the entire pledge class, revealing either the sorority's terrible reputation or the movie's mediocre budget. But let us not concern ourselves with that, for the girls we get are handfuls enough.

There's Phoebe (Elaine Wilkes - in a very sad turn, her IMDb trivia reads "former actress"), the most enthusiastic member of the bunch; Vivia (Sherry Willis-Burch, whose only other film role was in 1981's Final Exam), the nerdy blonde with a penchant for orchestrating cruel pranks; and Jennifer (Joanna Johnson), who is reluctant to endure the tortures of the wicked and glittery pledge mistress Veronica (Alicia Fleer), but whose firm resolve is melted once she meets the charming and handsome Blake (Martin Hewitt), a brother from Beta Tau.

Can you blame her?

For the ensuing 50 minutes, the film follows the pledge week shenanigans and romantic travails of these girls as well as the horny nerd Martin (Ralph Seymour, who we'll meet again soon in Just Before Dawn); Veronica's boyfriend and Beta Tau president Albert Harrison (Woody Brown), who is referred to by his first or last name depending on whatever mood the writer was in at the time, leading me to believe for the majority of the film that he was two different people; Big Bee-Boy (Howard Busgang, aka the chubby prankster from Terror Train), the... chubby prankster; his accomplice Little Bee-Boy (Jason Warren, who would later appear in the Canadian Dungeons and Dragons slasher Skullduggery); also there's Melanie (Terri Hawkes) and Sandy (Laura Sherman) two sorority sisters who are always mentioned in every other conversation despite having a collective 45 seconds of screentime, who I only mention here because not only was Terri Hawkes the mean girl in Hello Mary Lou: Prom Night II, but she's freaking Sailor Moon. SAILOR MOON. This girl's a superstar.

The film pauses only briefly to remind people that this cheerful college romp has the word "Killer" in the title as the house mother Mrs. Henshaw (Pam Hyatt) and snooty professor Dr. Zito (Paul Bartel, who also appears in Chopping Mall and Trick or Treats - a Census Bloodbath hat trick!) - named after the director of the other big slasher by screenwriter Barney Cohen, don't think I let these things slip past me - wander into the abandoned frat house on Greek Row and meet their untimely deaths at the hands of a mysterious murderer.

Also holy crap do you see how much slasher royalty went into the making of this film? I mean, it sucks and all. But it sucks in that specifically 80's way that is so endearing. It warms my heart.

Among other things.

Nevermind that the first hour is occasionally dull, entirely bloodless, and totally unnecessary. It's so full to the brim with signifiers of the decade (including a deadpan synthcrap song that mindlessly repeats something about this being the best days of our lives for what feels like twenty minutes) that it is an ocular and aural experience not to be missed.

Towards the final half hour of the 90 minute film, it suddenly remembers that it's supposed to be a slasher movie and the girls and guys host a big April Fool's party in the abandoned building, the site of an accidental pledge murder twenty years before. The movie gets increasingly frantic to create a decent body count by the time the credits roll, to the point that the final twenty minutes are just a rapid-fire series of brief (and unfortunately bloodless) kill sequences in which they cut to a random person, have the murderer waddle in encased in a bronze deep sea diver outfit and nonchalantly slaughter them, then cut directly to the next, hastening to waste not a single moment of precious screentime.

The real fun begins when it turns out that SPOILERS Jennifer has been possessed by the spirit of the long-dead pledge boy and proceeds to do Exorcist style wall crawls while making everything in the house emit smoke and rattle around. It wouldn't be a post-Nightmare without an awkwardly shoved in paranormal element, now wouldn't it?

Not that I mind.

Now, let's make this super duper extra clear - Killer Party sucks. It's too demure and mangled by the MPAA to have fun gore moments, it's too careless to tell a legitimately intriguing narrative, and Joanna Johnson can't even muster a decent "shocked" face when the movie throws her into its boo-machine. I swear, she plays every scene like she just woke up from a nap.

But the combination of random hair metal, unpredictable sorority nonsense, and lackluster acting from an enormously appealing slate of attractive slasher alumni with the never-ending catalogue of cheesy outfits and scenarios, all wrapped up with a truly magnificent poster makes me feel right at home. And I really needed that.

Killer: Alan the Dead Pledge in the body of Jennifer (Joanna Johnson)

Final Girl: Vivia (Sherry Willis-Burch), but not for long

Best Kill: A fat boy in a bumblebee costume is impaled with a harpoon through his... rectal region.

Sign of the Times: Literally every outfit, character, and song featured in the entire film.

Scariest Moment: The possessed Jennifer crawls up the wall, her tongue lolling.

Weirdest Moment: How do I even decide? It's a toss up between the full hair metal music video that opens the film and the part where Vivia is making out with Martin and she screams "OH! TOUCH ME, MARTIN!" while pointing at her elbow.

Champion Dialogue: "I gargle with musk."

Body Count: 10 people clearly die; my body count does not include a woman who dies in the film within the film or the rest of the partygoers whom Vivia claims have died, only four of which we see pointedly strewn about.

1. Mrs. Henshaw is beaten to death with a paddle.
2. Dr. Zito is electrocuted with a wire.
3. Pam is impaled with a trident.
4. Veronica is hit in the head with a hammer.
5. Albert is guillotined.
6. Virgil is dismembered and stuffed in a fridge.
7. Fat Bumblebee gets a harpoon up his ass.
8. Thin Bumblebee gets a harpoon through his mouth. Not the same harpoon, I hope.
9. Blake is drowned in the tub.
10. Jennifer/Alan is staked through the heart with a fencepost.

TL;DR: Killer Party sucks, but it's the kind of suck that makes me glad to be alive.

Rating: 8/10

Word Count: 1478