Tuesday, October 15, 2013



Scott Kubay, Sean Kanan, Donna Baltron, Scott Fults, Ria Pavia, Bunky Jones, Brittain Frey, Judy Ramteize, and Mikey the Misleading MacGuffin.

Please Note: Not Olly-Olly-Oxen-Spoiler-Free!


Summer, 1988. A masked killer stalks the streets in search of easy prey.

Also, the latest G.I. Joes.
Meanwhile, high school is over. A group of bored white teens in Reagan’s America want to go nuts, have some fun, and cut-loose-footloose or whatever the hell kids did back then. The gals prepare for their big night out by hanging out in my sister’s room.

"And he wears that mask, like, everywhere! GRODY!!!"
While the guys engage in gleeful homoerotic shenanigans. 

"One day, our kids will call this bro-something!"
So the gang plans a night out of raising Hell, adult beverages consumption, and the losing of their virginity and virdignity in a dark and depressing furniture warehouse.

Meanwhile, a creepy loading dock worker who the owner allows to sleep in the warehouse gradually becomes aware of the horny devilishness and randy goings-on happening elsewhere in the building.  

"But first, I gotta work out my stranglin' hand."
So the teens decide to up the ante on the evening’s tomfoolery and start a game of hide and seek in the warehouse that’s filled with the eeriest mannequins this side of Kim Cattrall.

Unfortunately, this is not the only wooden performance in this movie. Thank you! Thank you!
And soon the maniac who lurks in the shadows hunts the coitus-engaged teens and picks them off by various means such as:

Bathroom sink drowning.
Elevator decapitation.
And staring directly into this guy's chest. (Thank you.)
As an added bonus, the killer likes to dress up like his victims post-kill. 

"I just murdered Tim Curry!"
In the end, the surviving members of the humpy-pumpy massacre discover the haunting link between who they thought was the killer (creepy warehouse guy) and the real killer.  And it’s perhaps one of the most unsettling but remarkable resolutions of any 80s slasher I have ever seen (except for Sleepaway Camp). Yeah.

"Really? That's the ending? GHAACCK!"

Sure you can call Hide and Go Shriek just another cookie-cutter 80s slasher movie, yet another clone of other successful slashers like the seminal Halloween and Friday the 13th series with hypersexual teens and a generic psycho devoid of believable murderous ambition. Sure, go ahead. I dares ya!  But this bare bones basic and abjectly low budget movie somehow manages to be entertaining and – dare I say it – rise above its fundamental horror movie formula. First of all, the performances are worthy of note. The kids physically and verbally interact with one another naturally and with ease, almost as if they were real life friends who were oblivious to the rolling camera. This is highly unusual for a subgenre that emphasizes gore and cheap thrills over actual character development. They engage in authentic-sounding conversations with each other and not all of them end up in the sack. For example, the requisite “annoying joker” character drops his a-hole shtick when alone with his girlfriend and actually ends up respecting his her desire to hold off on sex. Yeah, it was weird, but unexpectedly appreciated. Don't get me wrong; the movie's got plenty of boobies. Plenty, my friend. Unfortunately, all this character progression is canceled out by the cringe-inducing killer plot resolution. As you may have guessed above, the loading dock creep (an ex-convict) is a red herring. The killer is revealed to be his former “prison bitch” who is still love with him and is slaughtering people to protect their life together, which in addition to making no friggin’ sense, is ridiculously and grossly homophobic. I can only surmise that the filmmakers were aiming at either "honest" or comedic commentary on relationships but the result is instead pretty gross. The producers also had the cajones to set up a sequel with the killer surviving his brutal demise. Fortunately, Hide and Go Shriek II: The Faggening did not happen.  


Sorry, but I cannot recommend Hide and Go Shriek for a horror movie marathon unless you have folks over who are interested in watching a historical example of pop culture homophobia that falsely purported the belief that them gays are coming to slay our virgins.  (Tea Partiers: please read the opposite of the preceding sentence).

No comments: