Review by Ben Bussey
Chris Sivertsen and Lucky McKee teaming up to make a teen-oriented supernatural horror comedy always was a very peculiar proposition. Sure, it’s a remake of a largely unseen low-budget film which they first made together way back in 2001, but both writer-directors have since gone on to make their names on a considerably more grounded, thoughtful and topical brand of horror with one foot in the novels of Jack Ketchum. Still, when All Cheerleaders Die was announced in 2012 there was a certain logic to the duo trying their hand at something which on paper sounds like a pretty easy sell. After all, while both filmmakers made a huge splash in the indie horror scene with their respective breakthroughs (Sivertsen’s The Lost and McKee’s May), they also both went on to get somewhat burned by Hollywood with their studio follow-ups (I Know Who Killed Me and The Woods), and have arguably enjoyed more lows than highs in their respective careers since.
Of course, one particular shadow hangs most ominously over All Cheerleaders Die: that of McKee’s last movie, The Woman. I’ll be comparing and contrasting these two films in detail ahead, and in doing so there will be spoilers for both films. (For a spoiler-free appraisal of All Cheerleaders Die, see Tristan’s write-up from Abertoir 2011.)
The Woman remains divisive. I’d been hugely impressed by it at FrightFest 2011, yet in the aftermath I found myself unable to defend the film from the slew of negative write-ups (including Keri’s) which decried it as deliberately courting controversy for its own sake. I decided to revisit The Woman (for the first time since) before writing this review, and yes, there’s no question that it’s a thoroughly contrived effort to whip up debate among chin-stroking intellectuals – but even so, I must admit it’s still a film I feel some affection for. Whilst it was largely sold and accepted as an ultra-grim psychological drama with torture porn leanings, I think in truth it’s more of a sick black comedy – but either way, it was plainly and clearly a feminist parable. Yes, its message was very simple and mindblowingly unsubtle – men oppressing women is bad, d’uh – yet, sad as it is to say, that’s something that a great many people in this world still need to get their thick heads around. Watching The Woman last week, I couldn’t hear Sean Bridgers defend his son’s molestation of the woman (“boys will be boys”) without thinking of Stubenville; nor could I hear his insanely OTT anti-female rant from the final act without thinking of this ridiculous ‘Gamergate’ bullshit, and the dickless worm who threatened to shoot up a college if they didn’t cancel a lecture from feminist critic Anita Sarkeesian. The fact that both these events (and there are many more we could mention) have occurred since The Woman was released simply underlines that, like it or not, the film’s message about misogyny remains very relevant indeed.
And at heart, All Cheerleaders Die is dealing with exactly the same thing. It chooses a more marketable, popcorn-friendly premise with which to present it, and dolls it up with a fair bit more eye candy, but the anti-patriarchy standpoint is still clear as day, even if it tends to get a little lost within a somewhat ragtag tumble of themes and subplots which threaten to derail the whole endeavour.
All publicity materials for this film, from the first poster with its ‘revenge is a bitch’ slogan to the cover art for the British DVD (which I can’t say I’m the biggest fan of – the cheerleader uniform doesn’t match those worn in the film for one thing), have emphasised that All Cheerleaders Die is a revenge story – and we learn within the first few minutes that bookish girl-turned-newbie cheerleader Maddy (Caitlin Stasey) has infiltrated the upper echelons of high school hierarchy in order to avenge herself against football captain Terry (Tom Williamson). However, it’s hard to get especially invested in Maddy’s scheme, as the reason she’s seeking revenge doesn’t become clear until late in the day, and in the meantime gets rather sidelined by the cheerleaders being killed in a car wreck only to be magically resurrected as bloodthirsty ghouls (they’re not exactly zombies or vampires – sticklers for monster archetypes may get a headache). Throw in a sort-of love triangle and a body swap subplot, and it all gets a bit much to take in. Not having seen the original film I obviously can’t comment on how close this new version plays, yet there’s so much about this that screams “first screenplay” (although, for instance, references to Facebook obviously wouldn’t have been in the 2001 film) – or perhaps the haphazard structure and often jarring shifts in tone are more down to this being a collaboration between directors who have subsequently gotten used to working alone.
I also can’t help but feel that, perhaps owing to the politically correct tendencies evident in their earlier work, McKee and Sivertsen are holding back a little on the sleaze (a number of noteworthy butt shots notwithstanding – see below). Let’s face it, no one goes into a movie about high school cheerleaders coming back from the dead with a thirst for human blood and expects a sensitive character piece; you go in expecting another Sorority Row or Piranha 3D, an unabashedly titillating romp which willingly embraces its inherent trashiness. All Cheerleaders Die, however, is doing its best to have it both ways (hurhurhur); to play well to McKee and Sivertsen’s existing indie horror following, and to a more mainstream crowd at the same time. It just about gets away with it, though there are some pretty glaring problems.
Case in point: as with May and his Masters of Horror episode Sick Girl, McKee once again presents us with a lesbian narrative. Particularly when it’s a male filmmaker with a repeated interest in telling stories about gay women, we can’t help but ask whether there’s a genuine interest in promoting a positive representation of homosexuality, or if the director is just turned on by watching girls make out. Again, All Cheerleaders Die looks to have its cake and eat it (there’s an ‘eat it’ joke in there somewhere, heheh…) The problem is, where there should be a central love triangle we have a gaping hole (heheh… I’m not doing this on purpose, I swear). During the relatively grounded opening 40 minutes, a relationship builds between Maddy and squad captain Tracy (Brooke Butler), whilst Maddy’s embittered ex Leena (Sianoa Smit-McPhee) stares on heartbroken. Yet all this goes out the window once the supernatural element comes into play, and Leena’s magic crystals bring the dead cheerleaders back to life; Tracy suddenly becomes a two-dimensional bloodthirsty bimbo, and the romance with Maddy is entirely forgotten as Leena comes back into the picture. We’re supposed to feel happy that the right people ended up together in the final scene, but I couldn’t help feeling I’d missed something somewhere amongst the quagmire of other story threads: on which note, the sisters Amanda Grace Cooper and Reanin Johannink inadvertently swapping bodies when Leena’s crystals revive them was perhaps a subplot too many, even if it did give us the film’s only sex scene – and some of the funniest lines (“I didn’t know that it’s cold in there!”)
But as I said, this is all pretty much window dressing on what is essentially another Woman-esque tale of male oppression. The set-up may seem like Linnea Quigley material, but the antagonist is pure Jack Ketchum: another overconfident slimeball whose calm exterior masks a violent, misogynistic sociopath. Newcomer Tom Williamson does an awesome job here as the alpha male, and there are clear echoes of The Woman’s Chris Cleek in the way he leads by intimidation without generally showing force. Much like the Cleeks, the ‘dogs’ of All Cheerleaders Die are clearly well aware that their figurehead is completely insane, yet all are too afraid to lift a finger; the most startling demonstration of this coming shortly before the car crash scene, when Tracy puts Terry down in front of his friends and he punches her in the face. This, I’m sure, will be the most talked about scene of the film – and sadly, I expect there will be many viewers who say Tracy had it coming. Above all, the scene underlines another key message this film shares with The Woman – those complicit in oppression are every bit as guilty as the perpetrators. While the ‘dogs’ do not cheer Terry on or join in, they don’t intervene or say a word in protest either. As such, the ultimate death of the ostensibly well-meaning dog Vik (Jordan Wilson) directly echoes that of Angela Bettis in The Woman: if you see wrong-doing, have the chance to intervene and don’t, then – well – you’re going to get eaten.
So, okay, McKee and Sivertsen have succeeded in once again showing us that misogyny sucks – but have they necessarily succeeded in creating a comedy horror destined for cult status? Well, All Cheerleaders Die certainly is a unique film, and its uneven nature is ultimately part of its charm, but I can’t avoid the sense that it simply isn’t funny or trashy enough to really deliver on its premise. It also doesn’t help that it’s clearly a pretty low budget affair: though it looks great, it feels a bit small scale. The absence of any actual football game scenes or fully choreographed cheer sequences does feel a bit glaring given the set-up; and, while the finale is suitably violent, I wouldn’t have minded something a bit bigger, with more outlandish supernatural goings-on and collateral damage. Again, this is a living dead cheerleaders movie – not the sort of movie from which we expect restraint. Yet because they didn’t go quite as out there as they could have, I somehow doubt this will wind up spawning the sequel which the conclusion humourously points toward – although, if it does, I’d be happy to see more, so long as they’re prepared to really cut loose next time.
Still – any way you look at it, All Cheerleaders Die is much more fun than The Woman. Not that this was ever a question, really.
Bare bones DVD, with no extras but the trailer.
All Cheerleaders Die is released to Region 2 DVD on 27th October 2014, from Spirit Entertainment.