When it comes to school-age horror, Killer Party is a class unto itself. This 1986 film kicks off with a lively, if not misleading, cold open. A campy drive-in flick sets the stage for real-life, heavy metal act White Sister. They rock on as a chaste, hair-crimped teen is then terrorized by the walking dead. In due time, it’s revealed this is all just part of a movie within a movie. Or really, a high-concept music video being watched at home by one of the film’s main characters. Not a novel idea, but the execution is handled in the best way imaginable. Only ten minutes in and Killer Party already proves why it’s one of the most individual slashers around.
Killer Party follows Phoebe (Elaine Wilkes), Vivia (Sherry Willis-Burch) and Jennifer (Joanna Johnson) as they pledge Sigma Alpha Pi together. The initial hazing is bad enough, but now they have to endure the worst of it all inside an old frat house with a dark past. Soon comes the April Fools’ costume party where a disguised guest takes full advantage of the theme and hacks away at the attendees. With tomfoolery in full swing, though, one has to wonder if this is all part of an elaborate sorority hoax, or if it goes far beyond being a sick joke.
Originally titled Fool’s Night (or, The April Fool), William Fruet‘s Toronto-shot movie pulled a last-minute name change when MGM caught wind of Paramount’s own pending prankster horror, April Fool’s Day. The two films only have surface-level similarities, but their proximity was too close for comfort. As playful as Fred Walton’s weekend mystery is, Killer Party is largely a horror-comedy. Producer Michael Lepiner told Fangoria in Issue 44 he wanted to “attract a broader audience.” Friday the 13th: The Final Chapter writer Barney Cohen penned an impish script that toes the line between droll and slapstick. Since Killer Party takes place on a college campus in the 1980s, you also know what to expect with its depiction of Greek life. Fraternity sanctioned theft, public humiliation, and inconsequential high jinks fill the first two-thirds of the movie. Although a good portion of the film is devoted to hell week antics, they’re reasonably amusing. Viewers are dared not to crack a smile when the pledges utter the phrase of the day, “I, myself, prefer a big fat cucumber.”
Given their target audience, the average slasher is frequently set deep in the woods, or in academic surroundings. High schools provide a built-in sense of community for young characters, whereas the likes of Killer Party take one step closer to the big, bad world. In this particular collegiate setting, evil hides in plain sight. This isn’t a case of entering the wrong neck of the woods, so to speak. Rather, that relatable desire to belong and fit in is directly why Phoebe and her besties are now in trouble. The movie has a roundabout way of criticizing fraternities. The most vocal aspersion is from a crabby professor who tells his class: “There are people who’d get rid of [frats and sororities] today if they could.” Whether or not this was the film’s intention, Killer Party takes a good swipe at Greek row without being too obvious about it.
At the heart of this fitful movie sits three young women with singular personalities. Phoebe is eager and naïve, Vivia is approachably brainy, and Jennifer is wary to a fault. Differences aside, they bike to school in tandem as well as spend almost every waking moment together. Their loyal friendship can be neatly summed up by an original, Bananarama-like earworm heard throughout the film—”These are the best times of our lives,“ the singers repeat in the chorus. It’s a perfect portraiture of these characters and their current outlook. In retrospect, this tuneful anthem becomes a bittersweet reminder of what was at stake. Phoebe, Vivia, and Jennifer were looking to join a sorority in a bid to feel accepted. The truth is, they didn’t have to look far if they wanted to feel that sisterly bond.
By the halfway point of the film, new and intrepid viewers are wondering what the hell is going on. It’s been a series of scenes for grins with only a hint of something insidious in the works. Not until the ill-fated April Fools’ bash does this movie start to feel assuredly horror. Unsuspecting victims? Check. A killer decked out in a distinct costume such as a vintage deep-dive suit? Check. A good versus evil standoff at the end? Check! Killer Party has the earmarks of your classic slasher. But there is a colossal plot development by the film’s end that separates this one from the pack. While it’s best to discover that twist on your own, it’s safe to say it leads to an ending no one could have foresaw. A movie that started off so humorously, now ends shivery and harsh.
With a decade so distinguished by other nameable horror offerings, Killer Party gets lost in the crowd. The movie drags its feet, and editing left little to no on-screen violence intact. Notwithstanding, the movie has developed and maintained a following for good reason. Admirers are drawn to its high-spirited attitude and style. On top of that, the movie is innovative in a subgenre not known for straying too far from tradition.
The horror elements aren’t as pronounced as they could be, but fun is the life and soul of Killer Party.
