Review by Tristan Bishop
The horror remake machine trundles along with no sign of slowing down, but as much as the horror fan’s learned reaction to the word ‘remake’ is the same as that of the term ‘found footage’ to a Brutal As Hell writer, remakes are not always a bad thing. Before you crucify me publicly however, let me finish: remakes are nearly as old as cinema itself, for one thing – a fact hammered home at the Abertoir festival this weekend when I finally got to see the Edison Frankenstein (complete with live piano score). A creaky but charming artefact from 1910, it pre-dates the Universal Frankenstein by some 21 years. And of course, the occasional modern remake like the ultra-stylish 2012 revisit of Maniac will attest. But why am I banging on about remakes to start a review of All Cheerleaders Die, you might ask? Because, well, this is a remake too.
I see one or two of you scratching your heads, and with good reason. Not many people have heard of the original film, although it shares the same director/writers as the remake – Chris Sivertson (who made the brilliant Jack Ketchum adaptation The Lost and the awful Lindsey Lohan horror I Know Who Killed Me), and a certain Lucky McKee, the twisted talent behind May and The Woman. They originally made the film back in 2001, a zero budget first feature horror-comedy which has proven to be incredibly hard-to-find, so why not return to it with a decent budget, a guaranteed audience, and do the idea justice?
The opening to the film is frankly brilliant – I won’t spoil it – but it works as a great way to introduce the main character of Maddy (Caitlin Stasey), a girl who decides to infiltrate the school cheerleading squad and sow seeds of dissent amongst the ranks. This works quite well, as she starts to come (quite literally) between cheerleader Tracy (a fantastic turn by Brooke Butler) and her asshole star footballer boyfriend Terry (Tom Williamson). However, things get far less Mean Girls when a bizarre turn of events, involving a fatal car cash instigated by the furious Terry, and a lil bit of magic from Maddy’s Wicca-practising ex-friend/stalker, occurs, and we end up with a resurrected, life force-draining, super-powered cheerleader squad hell-bent on revenge!
If this sounds utterly ridiculous, it is – glowing magic crystals flying around everywhere, and nubile young women in cheerleader uniforms (and occasionally less) engaged in acts of ultra-violence make one think this film might have dropped into 2013 by way of 1986, but if you’ve got love for an era where Linnea Quigley was queen and the monsters were rubber then you’ll be well at home here. However, All Cheerleaders Must Die is a far more interesting film than that – it’s dark as hell at points, as you might expect from the directors of The Lost and The Woman, and the mostly female cast is as interesting and varied as you’ve probably come to expect from McKee’s work. ‘Dumb fun’ is a term I’m hearing used a lot about this film, but I think there’s more going out beneath the surface – I can’t wait to read a decent, thoughtful feminist deconstruction of it. However, for a peak time horror festival film the dumb fun aspect certainly delivered, with the Abertoir audience lapping up the gore and laughs (and there is plenty of both on offer here).
All Cheerleaders Die seems destined for cultdom. It may not be this generation’s The Craft, but it will entertain casual viewers and offer those willing to dig beneath the surface a lot of rewards. If we are going to be drip-fed a steady stream of remakes then listen up – this is how it’s done!