Reviews
‘Kill Dolly Kill’ Fantastic Fest Review – A Mixed Bag of Campy Trash
While the theme of Fantastic Fest this year is occultism/Satanic panic, the “junior” theme of the fest could easily be The Wrath of Troma, given that the opening night film of the festival was the long-awaited remake of The Toxic Avenger (review) and the studio is also bringing us Heidi Moore‘s Kill Dolly Kill. It’s a micro-budget film with horrendous production values and some truly terrible performances, so about what you’d expect from a modern Troma film, but a committed lead performance and some transgressive humor make for a mildly entertaining romp through the streets of Tromaville.
A follow-up to Moore’s 2016 film Dolly Deadly, Kill Dolly Kill sees Tromaville’s local celebrity murderess, Dolly Deadly (Donna Slash) in competition to win Serial Killer of the Year. Unfortunately, rival drag queen Slasherella (Amy Vodkahaus) has designs on the title and will stoop to the lowest of lows to take the crown. To make matters worse, Tromaville’s ultra conservative and corrupt Mayor Cox (Tom Komisar, pulling double duty as the film’s co-writer) is campaigning to get the “weirdos” and “freaks” out of town, throwing a wrench in Dolly’s schemes.
While Kill Dolly Kill is a sequel, you don’t have to have seen Dolly Deadly to get any enjoyment out of it. The musical slasher (oh yes, this is a musical) kicks things off with an amusing, partially animated recap of the events of the first film, which saw Dolly (then a young, doll-loving boy named Benji) go on a killing spree against his bullies and tormenters before running away from home and restarting his life as drag queen Dolly Deadly. Kill Dolly Kill picks up some time after the end of Dolly Deadly, with Dolly having already made a name for herself in Tromaville.
Kill Dolly Kill is being sold as a John Waters-influenced serial killer comedy with drag queens galore and plenty of grisly deaths, and it is those things, but it’s also missing that spark that made Waters’ films shine. The problem with films that try to emulate the magic of John Waters (or go for intentional camp) is that they often us it as an excuse for just being “bad.” Waters’ films may have been micro-budget productions, but they always had something to say, often in transgressive ways, and always kept things funny. Kill Dolly Kill mostly achieves the first aspect, but fumbles with the latter.
The film sings (often literally) when its star is on screen. Donna Slash is a magnetic presence as Dolly, and she is able to make even the worst lines of dialogue tickle the funny bone. Her commitment to the bit is truly admirable. Unfortunately, there are far too many scenes (most of them in the middle stretch of the film) where she is absent, and those become an honest-to-God chore to sit through. Shots go on for seconds too long, killing many of the jokes, and some scenes are, quite frankly, boring. There is a refreshing lack of pretension here, but you’ll often wish you were having as much fun as the performers on screen clearly are.
The songs are a bit of a mixed bag. Musical styles range from ’60s pop to heavy metal, and actors lip sync to the songs, often terribly, with their mouths rarely lining up with the lyrics (though it should come as no surprise that Slash and Vodkahaus nail their lip syncs). One could argue that this is part of the charm of a film like this, but it proves to be more of a hindrance than an asset.
Still, in an age where drag as an art form is under attack and new anti-trans laws seem to pop up every day (especially here in Texas), there’s something deeply cathartic about an unapologetically queer film that is in direct conversation with the current social landscape. Dolly murders bigots and homophobes and transphobes with absolute glee, making the murder set pieces the film’s main draw.
All in all, the enjoyment you get out of Kill Dolly Kill will depend on your affinity for trash cinema. It’s a midnight movie through and through, but the humor might be more, well, humorous if you’re surrounded by a bunch of friends with more than a few drinks in hand.
Kill Dolly Kill made its world premiere at Fantastic Fest. Release info TBA.

Books
‘Scary Movie Night’ Review: A Hitchcock-Themed Thriller Full of Juicy Twists But Not Much Else
A secluded mansion. A group of friends each harboring secrets. A party built around one woman’s love of Alfred Hitchcock. These are the ingredients laid out to begin Scary Movie Night, the sophomore novel from Miranda Smith and follow-up to her breakout debut, Smile for the Cameras.
They’re all, standing alone and taken together, very promising ingredients, and when Smith starts to bounce all those secrets and all that seclusion around with a little murder in the mix, they make for some juicy plotting. But fun twists and macabre themed party nights do not a thriller make. There is fun to be had here, but for all its reliance on classic horror tropes and the films of a master of cinematic suspense, Scary Movie Night never quite finds a way to become something more.
Movie blogger and influencer Tippi (yes, she’s named for Tippi Hedren from The Birds) is going through a rough patch. Her upcoming marriage was just called off, and she’s planning to hit the Cannes Film Festival then travel the world as a newly single woman, even shifting her career focus from movies to travel in the process. Her friends Ava, Marlowe, and Constance are supportive, but they also know it might be the last time they see Tippi for a while, so master party planner Ava comes up with the perfect sendoff: A themed scary movie night party, complete with costumes, hosted at the elegant estate of Tippi’s grandmother, Marmee.
Marmee, you see, has her own history with the glamour of Hollywood, and even has a private cinema set up in her mansion. It’s the perfect venue for the perfect night, at least until Tippi starts receiving vaguely threatening notes from her ex, and the first body turns up.
See what I mean about all the ingredients being there? This book starts with so much promise, particularly when guests turn up for the party and reveal their various movie costumes. There’s so much to chew on, and Smith wastes no time diving directly into the drama of it all. The book moves primarily through Tippi’s first-person perspective, so we get the lowdown on her friends, their various relationships, the quarrels that have defined previous social interactions, and much more. It’s a series of rich veins all tapped at once, and it feels like the book is genuinely going somewhere quite fun.
Here’s the thing: The book does go somewhere quite fun; it just gets there in a way that I found both frustrating and often unfulfilling. The characters aren’t defined by their choices in the book so much as they’re defined by what Tippi tells us about each of them, and while the notion of Tippi as an unreliable narrator is key to the plot, her supporting cast never really gets a chance to sit up and exist as anything other than archetypes in her head. The dialogue doesn’t help matters in this regard, and I kept finding myself wishing one of Tippi’s friends would just seize the narrative, just for a moment, so I’d get some sense of these people beyond the broad brushstrokes of the protagonist.
Which brings us to the issue of Tippi as the narrator in the first place. Like the Hitchcock blondes on which she’s clearly modeled, we’re meant to learn about her through her choices, and constantly question whether or not she’s made the right ones. Why did she leave her ex with a wedding looming? Why is she changing career paths? Why does she have to be talked into her own going-away party? How she reacts to these things, and what she’s really after, will be what defines her, but here’s the thing: Tippi, for all her Hitchcockian layers of plotting, never steps forward as a fully formed character. Like the Hitch films playing in the background during the party, she’s more like a suggestion of a character than a person.
Writing first-person present-tense is tricky under the best of circumstances, but doing it when your protagonist is meant to be harboring secrets of her own is especially challenging, and it just…never quite entirely works here, and drawing very direct parallels between her and Hitchcock’s various leading ladies doesn’t really help matters.
But here’s the really interesting part: I wouldn’t be invested in any of these issues were it not for a story that genuinely kept me reading. For all of this book’s shortcomings, and I found a few, it ultimately holds together because Smith has a genuine gift for plot twists, and secrets, and the kind of juicy drama that makes a thriller keep barreling forward on the page. There’s good stuff in here, even if it’s sometimes overshadowed by missteps, and that means that while Scary Movie Night might not obsess you or give you nightmares or stick in your head for weeks on end, it will entertain you. I wanted more from this book, but I also want to see what Miranda Smith writes next, and that’s an achievement in itself.
Scary Movie Night is available July 14 wherever books are sold.


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