Slash Dance

I watched this film as a child originally. It was one of many films that created my interest in bad horror/comedy movies. I recently re-watched it because I realized that several of the ladies from GLOW (Gorgeous Ladies of Wrestling) starred and were featured. America from GLOW is in the lead role with supporting roles by GLOW Characters Matilda The Hun and Beastie. Do not expect a regular cheap horror movie with this one. It was made to be a combination horror/comedy film and is purposely campy.

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Slashdance is one of a handful of 80s horror movies to use the then popular aerobics/dance/workout craze to try and wring a few last drops of blood from the dying slasher sub-genre (others include Aerobicide, Death Spa, Murder Rock, and Stage Fright). It seems like an obvious ploy, the inevitable bevy of beautiful women shaking their booty providing both gratuitous T&A and plenty of potential victims ripe for slaughter, but somehow Slashdance manages to make a complete mess of matters, its prolonged dance scenes only serving to make what is already a very boring horror film even more tedious.

Cindy Maranne stars as attractive but tough cop Tori Raines, who works undercover as a dancer in an old theatre in order catch the maniac responsible bumping off girls auditioning for a musical. What we get here is a couple of virtually gore-free death scenes, but tons of embarrassingly bad dance routines from the attractive but untalented hoofers, most of whom would make a drunken granny at a wedding look like Ginger Rogers. To make matters worse, writer/director James Shyman opts for a semi-comedic approach that is truly cringe-worthy, with comical characters including two fat female steroid pushers (played by wrestler Queen Kong and Kelle Favara), perverted stage manager Rupert (John Bluto), and retarded prime suspect Amos (Joel Von Ornsteiner).

As if the whole film wasn't padded out enough with interminable scenes of the dancers practising their pathetic moves ("1, 2, 3, and kick, 5, 6, 7, and knee" ad nauseum), Shyman also adds numerous shots of Los Angeles hot-spots, making parts of his film feel like they were made for the L.A. tourist board. All that time wasted watching random people walking and driving up and down Hollywood streets and there's not even one gratuitous shower scene from the sexy showgirls. For shame!

Do yourself a favor, don't rent this waste of plastic. Use the 50 cents to buy a Vanilla Coke and you will have a much better day.

This is not a slasher film. It is more like an after-school special with some bad words thrown in to get an R rating. The sound track (two songs repeated over and over countless times) has that homemade "Casio" sound. The supposed dance routines are not quite as professional looking as 6th grade cheerleading practice. The lousy attempts at humor are not nearly as funny as the fact that the writer/director actually put his name at the end of the film. Some people have no shame.

Slash Dance is a bizarre comedy/horror from the late 1980s about some women being killed while auditioning for a musical. Cindy Ferda stars as an undercover cop investigator these murders. She meets some odd characters like two female wrestlers selling steroids, a guy who takes his fake eyebrows off and a man who likes to flash. I like offbeat 1980s horror comedies when they are fun, but Slash Dance isn't really all that fun of a watch. I feel a movie with that title should be a little more entertaining and fun. Cindy Ferda plays her part ok enough but the dialogue and over-the top-ness from other actors is just brutal. It's just not interesting enough for my whacky 1980s tastes.

My review was written in July 1989 after watching the film on Glencoe video cassette.

Catchy title notwithstanding, "Slash Dance" is a meek horror thriller headed for home video shelves.

Filmmaker James Shyman's tame approach is more slasher-film meets "A Chorus Line" than the Jennifer Beals pic punned upon. A maniac is killing the young women auditioning for a role in a musical show at the Van Slake theater. Lovely cop Cindy Maranne goes undercover as a dancer to root out the baddie.

Minor plot pits Van Slake heirs Joel von Ornsteiner and William Kerr as prime, too-obvious suspects.

Pic suffers from too much attempted comic relief (Von Ornsteiner's geek-style overacting is a pain) and surprising prudishness. Dancing, endlessly shown in rehearsal form, is boring and staged without style. Tech credits, especially Geza Sinkovics' colorful lensing, are above average.