Back in the golden days of cable television, Syfy–known as the Sci Fi channel–was rather entertaining. I’d sometimes sit down in front of the television and watch it all day long basking in stuff like “The Twilight Zone,” that horrible show “Sightings,” and “Lost in Space,” while Saturdays brought cartoons, and anime. These days, though, I barely ever want to watch it unless there’s a marathon of “Firefly,” or a crappy television movie on, and even then it’s debatable. I don’t WANT to see “Lake Placid 6,” but… I couldn’t keep from watching it when it premiered! The reason for my hatred of Syfy is because, I have them to thank for my exposure to short independent films.
This is one of the many horror films from the eighties that features the trio of Scream Queen goddesses. Yes, Linnea Quigley, Brinke Stevens, and Michelle Bauer all star in one of the funniest and best horror comedies of the late eighties. Directed on a very low budget and on very limited scenery, “Sorority Babes” works as a low budget trash fest, and a goofy little time waster you can chuckle to. Tri Delta is looking to initiate their two newest recruits! After catching three nerds from the local fraternity watching the initiation, the trio, along with a few sorority sisters are forced to break in to the local Bowl-O-Rama at night and steal a prized trophy as a prank.
Accidentally unleashing a magical imp within the sacred trophy after knocking it over, they unleash Ol’ Uncle Impy, a magical imp who offers to grant their wildest dreams. After they all take advantage and are granted their own wishes, they find that often times, if something seems too good to be true, it probably is. Also known as “The Imp,” seasoned director David DeCouteau directs this goofy horror comedy that I was first introduced to back in the nineties. I fondly remember watching the edited version for “Sorority Babes” on USA’s Up All Night on cable television and always wanted to re-watch it.
Years later, I bought the DVD and had a blast. Along with “The Gonk,” and “It’s Party Time” Bob Parr’s “Here In The Darkness,” the theme song to “Sorority Babes” has permanently burned itself in to my brain, and it’s fun to see such an eerie theme song for such a goofy horror comedy. Brinke Stevens and Michelle Bauer are on the receiving of a lot of gratuitous nudity as they’re spanked in the opening shots of the film for a sorority initiation for Tri Delta. While there, three geeks are caught and are forced in to the final act of being admitted in to Tri Delta. Ol’ Uncle Impy is one of the most unusual horror villains ever created. A combination of low budget puppetry and tricky lighting, he’s a trophy imp that grants wishes, and surely enough he can’t be trusted.
Linnea Quigley co-stars in one of the rare roles where she keeps all of her clothes on as juvenile delinquent Spider. She’s caught breaking in to arcades for petty change, and ends up having to fight for her life and live through the night. Impy can be tricked, but how? Most of the movie spends its time on the wishes granted and the painful fall out that comes from the wishes that begin to turn sour in a matter of hours. One sorority girl wishes to be a queen with her clothes rotting, one character wishes to be rich only for the treasure to be meaningless, and another character wishes for a girlfriend only for this girl to be incredibly aroused and aggressive when it comes to getting laid.
Meanwhile, the janitor of the Bowl-O-Rama is unfortunately stuck in his bathroom and oblivious to the horror happening all around him. Quigley decided she wanted a role as a punk this time around, and dons the punk attire as heroine Spider, who fends off the monsters machinations through this bowl o rama. Keeping money tight, the movie is set in the bowl o rama over night where no one is around, giving DeCouteau a real advantage in giving the setting mood and atmosphere without trying too hard to light the sets. Of course, all of the horror and turmoil dies out before opening time at the bowl o rama. This allows the characters to roam around chasing each other, and learning about the convoluted origin of Ol’ Uncle Impy and how he can turn a good wish in to a bad situation.
I, for one, love Uncle Impy. He’s a bargain basement villain who could have worked in a sequel if they ever had the budget for one. I could see the allure of asking for a wish from the Djinn in “Wishmaster,” but from a little demon in a bowling trophy? Come on, kids. Just say no. “Sorority Babes” is one of the last gasps of eighties horror, and it’s a delightfully goofy delicacy you can kick back to. If only to see Quigley reprise her punk attire yet again. Whether you know it as “The Imp,” or “Sorority Babes in the Slimeball Bowl-O-Rama,” this is a heck of a good horror comedy with the trifecta of scream queens doing battle with a horrific imp. They just don’t make movies like this anymore.
Whether or not you love Tarantino’s movies, one thing you have to give him credit for is his ability to include some incredible music in every one of his films. He’s introduced me to some excellent songs over the years from the Smith version of “Baby it’s You” played in “Death Proof,” right down to “Stuck in the Middle with You” from “Reservoir Dogs.”
With “Django Unchained” it’s no real exception. The film is admittedly anachronistic in its soundtrack since the film is essentially a nod to the blaxploitation westerns of the seventies.
I hate country music, I really do. But the only band I can hold any sort of tolerance for is The Dixie Chicks. Am I a fan? No. Am I fan of their views? God yes. Particularly Natalie Maines that little hot firecracker. Outspoken, charismatic, and intelligent, you just have to love her. Hats off to you, babe. In 2006, no two documentaries were more inadvertently paralleled than “Shut up & Sing,” and “The US vs. John Lennon.”
A long time ago, John Lennon, sitting with the Beatles, explained to a reporter, in sheer shock, that he couldn’t believe the way fans were gushing. It was almost as if they were more popular than Jesus.
Fans, thanks to the media, took it out of proportion, and wholly out of context.
I don’t need a horror channel to remind me I’m a horror fan. I don’t need a channel to play the same old bullshit movies I have in my collection, and then turn into a quasi-horror channel months later playing music videos, and wrestling programs. A channel doesn’t make me an automatic solid horror fan.
I’ve been one since I was four.
But I wanted a great horror show god damn it. The show I wanted to be great, ended up being one giant dry hump sans the stained pants, while the show I expected to flop, ended up being damn good. I speak of “Dexter” in that last comparison.
“Masters of Horror” is a lot like that really hot chick you met in high school. She was good looking without or without makeup, presented many possibilities, you imagined every such situation, and position, and when you and she were finally alone, she really wasn’t much to talk about. And then you’re left with nothing but disappointment.
I remember seeing you in “The Blob” when I was a wee lad. I used to watch it every other day on WPIX Channel 11 before it was taken over by the WB, and even though most of the film was edited and chopped up, I watched not only because it’s one of the best remakes of all time, but because, well, you’re really hot. I remember being ten always watching “The Blob” before I went to bed. The movies always started at eight and, come hell or high water, they ended at ten for the news, and that’s okay, because that’s when I went to bed. I remember being ten and watching your sweet self running around screaming and just being an all around hotty, even when in the sewer all wet and dirty.
“Why don’t you just kill me?” “Is that what you think I want?”
Though described as a “thriller,” this is a horror movie in the purest sense, and an emotionally draining one at that. A man engages in a horrible crime, thinks he’s gotten away with it and discovers he’s being outwitted, outsmarted, and tortured by a vindictive little bitch about half his size.
The irony being that the character Jeff is a good looking man with the ability to pick up any woman he wants and he chooses young children, and yet he’s not above spouting the same crap excuses we hear from all pedophiles, too.
Slade’s film is indeed a horror movie. And then I had to see “Hostel Part II” to review, and it was pretty much the same experience as the first time.
Whether or not you love Tarantino’s movies, one thing you have to give him credit for is his ability to include some incredible music in every one of his films. He’s introduced me to some excellent songs over the years from the Smith version of “Baby it’s You” played in “Death Proof,” right down to “Stuck in the Middle with You” from “Reservoir Dogs.”
