One by One

A killer is going around in an army camouflage jumpsuit slicing up the desirable high school majorettes with their trusty knife and leaving their bodies immerse in water. Lt. Roland Martell is put onto the case with the help of the local sheriff, but the body count is rising. There are some punk bikers and their leader is a prime suspect, but could it be the perverted school janitor or maybe his deceiving mother who plans to take over the inheritances of the old lady she's looking after.

What in the name?! This is one extremely patchwork film that has so much going on in its heavily plotted premise that it feels like everything has been chucked into a blender. Yummy camp that's frightening for all the wrong reasons. I was rubbing my eyes in disbelief in how ridiculously stupid it gets! What starts off as your conventional copy and paste high school slasher turns into an embarrassing revenge action story. Huh? Where did that come from? We watch one of the characters go "Rambo" on us. It's raining down gunfire and unnecessary explosions. Pure anarchy! These sudden incomprehensible shifts in the fitful story truly made it one unpredictable smörgåsbord of gratuitous 80s cheese. The slasher element is poorly done, but sticks to the main gruel. Vixens who get their clothes off when they can. A POV shot with heavy breathing to inform us it's the killer. Bloody murders (although they are mostly the same old repetitive kills; knife to the throat routine) on "unexpected" victims. And red herrings around each corner. The banal nature of this segment suddenly turned moronic in falling by the wayside. The a-wire action is plain bizarre, and rather guilty entertainment. A lot people bite the dust and there are unexpected surprises in who does too. Sounds complicated… well no, just messy and padded out.

Some of the key players in Romero's "Night of the Living Dead" are who to thank for this shamble. The premise is taken from writer John Russo's own novel and the script he dragged off it is completely insipid and dank across the board. Is the novel that bad? The amateurishly leaden acting makes matters even worse and there's no real central figure rounding it off. The ladies in the picture look nice, but do little else. Bill Hinzman (zombie in the graveyard in the opening scene of "Night of the Living Dead") is in the director's chair, but you wouldn't know it. One or two decent stalk scenes are there, but there wasn't much control and direction seemed quite non-existent. Being plastered with a low budget immensely brings it down and leaves a lot to be desired. The off-kilter story just didn't make too much sense or did the other pointlessly out-of-left-field sub-plots to the bigger picture. It feels fairly longer than it actually is and this erratic mood swings enhanced it even more. A tacky one-note music score is especially jerky and the stale camera-work only hurts your eyes. Mindlessly idiotic and mundane accurately sums up the hack-eyed presentation and feeble production.

This z-grade stinker entertains in its unintentional wackiness, but you can find yourself doing it tough in a glut of unbearable shoddiness. Be afraid… be very afraid.

I had great expectations for THE MAJORETTES when I found out that JOHN RUSSO (co-author of NIGHT OF THE LIVING DEAD) had based it on his novel. Sadly I had no idea of the disappointment that awaited me inside the cover of this hugely mediocre effort.

A masked killer - disguised in army surplus garb - is stalking and murdering the young female members of a majorette team one by one. The brutal slayings leave authorities baffled as there seems to be no apparent motive for the vicious and ruthless attacks. It's left up to the surviving members of the group to watch their backs before they become the assassin's next victims.

This is easily one of the 'cheapest' of the period slashers and is best avoided by fans of the genre. Atrocious acting, muggy cinematography and a theme tune that sounds like it was knocked up on a $25 keyboard (honestly!) add up to make an extremely unpleasent viewing experience. The only redeeming feature is that the killings - that were heavily edited in the BBFC's print that I watched - are surprisingly well executed and look like they might be pretty gory in an uncut print. If only director Hinzman had showed the flare for the rest of the film that was evident in the murders, he could have made this a half decent thriller. But the problems really begin when the maniac's identity is revealed far too soon leaving the closing half of the film filled with a poor and unconvincing action-revenge plot that looks like it owes more to Gary Busey's EYE OF THE TIGER or RAMBO than it does any slasher flick.

Sadly MAJORETTES ended up being a major-let down...

If you're an avid fan of George Romero's 'living dead' series then you might recognise the name Bill Hinzman: he played the graveyard zombie who attacked Barbara at the beginning of Night of the Living Dead. After several negligible roles in other Romero movies and assorted jobs behind the scenes, Hinzman decided to have a bash at directing, his first effort being this tawdry slasher/revenge flick based on a novel by John Russo (who also provided the screenplay).

Opening with a gloriously tacky opening credits scene showing a group of sexy, lycra wearing babes (most of whom look a bit too old to still be in high school) busting some moves, closely followed by a shower scene during which we see the pervy school janitor taking snapshots of the girls through a ventilation grille, the film certainly starts promisingly—heavy on the 80s cheeze and sleaze, it looks set to be a blast. Sadly, even though the gratuitous nudity continues throughout, and is accompanied by plenty of violence (but not much in the way of decent gore), the sense of fun soon wears off thanks to the truly awful performances (the girls certainly weren't hired for their acting ability), Russo's woeful script, and Hinzman's uninspired direction which only goes to prove that lurching around like a drooling ghoul in front of the camera is a darn sight easier than calling the shots behind it.

4.5 out of 10, generously rounded up to 5 for the silly-but-bloody OTT Peckinpah-style shootout at the end.

Weak adaption of a not so great horror book both done by John Russo. A hooded killer is out on the loose killing off high school girls. A local gang is a prime suspect. Full of red herrings, dumb plot twists, an an unexplicable change of tone halfway through the film and then again towards the end of the film. This film is a real stinker in all respects. Rated R; Sexual Situations, Violence, and Profanity.

The general opinion is that this slasher flick by the "Night of the Living Dead" co-creators John Russo and Bill Hinzman really sucks. And in this case I'm afraid the general opinion is right on the money. What you basically have here is a bunch of barely legal Hollywood bimbos/Motley Crue groupies playing barely illegal high school majorettes who, when they're not prancing around in butt-hugging leotards or skimpy bikinis, are taking long, hot showers and getting butchered by a maniac in military fatigues. I guess I'm not entirely complaining, but these ingredients do not necessarily a good horror movie make.

The problem is this movie is derivative to the nth degree. At one point the movie lifts a scene (in a swimming pool) almost verbatim from "The Prowler". And I think this film sets a new record for stupid characters saying, "So and so, is that you?" I'd almost think this was meant to be a pre-"Sceam" parody/homage of the slasher films, but it is neither particularly funny nor clever, just tediously unoriginal. The only thing that sets it apart from other bottom-of-the-barrel slasher dreck is a really stupid action/revenge sub-plot where the studly quarterback takes on a particularly unconvincing motorcycle gang (and if there was one genre that hit bottom more consistently than the 80's slasher films it was the 80's action/revenge films). Amazingly, this empty-headed film was actually based on a novel by John Russo. I would read that instead--it can't possibly be any worse.