Hell Night

Hell Night is a bodacious 1981 horror-a-thon starring the tantalizin’ ta-tas of Linda “Your Mother Sucks Cocks in Hell” Blair. (Hey, we mean chickens, okay? CHICKENS!) Linda was last seen writhing around in a bed of pukey pea soup in The Exorcist, all the while flicking the bean with a crucifix (my, our mind is dirty this morning), and can’t be bothered to explain how she went from that undeniable classic to this, well, less-than-classic.

Her cleavage, while not exactly the equal of Elizabeth Berridge’s in Amadeus (who must be accorded the rare distinction of having had the Cinematic Cleavage of the Century), is still one of the star attractions of this rather homogenized, safe, and pedestrian attempt to make Scooby-Doo into a mutant slasher/monster flick with undeniable incestuous undertones. Or some such.

There is a big fraternity party, and Linda and her co-stars (none of whom were interesting or memorable enough to really name, except maybe for Seth, played by Vincent Van Patten, who commits a carjacking, avoids getting impaled on a fence in a scene that might have made Vlad Tepes grin, yet still dies anyway) are partying down until they go to a big spooky mansion where someone has thoughtfully taken it upon themselves to light millions of candles, thus creating the Fire Hazard of the ’80s. Along the way, the frat brother hazing them informs them of the urban legend of the family. He’s obviously well-versed in creepypasta, having time-traveled to modern times where we have the internet, and lays down some rap about a wealthy family, the Garths, their deformed and mutant children, the murder/suicide committed by Raymond Garth, and the escape of mutant son Andrew, described, puzzlingly, as a “gorp.” Whatever the hell that is.

The killings get started off proper with a girl being beheaded. The head is later found lying next to Seth in bed… I think. The killings are quick edits, and no detail is lingered over for long. A lot of the film takes place in the dark, and while the lighting and cinematography are about as good as you’d expect for this film—what it is and when it was made—it’s one of those movies where you get the sneaking suspicion there’s an unedited version that’s a lot more bloody, sexy, shocking, and raw.

Be that as it may, we’re on fairly safe terrestrial slasher ground here. Linda, Seth, Linda’s spineless boyfriend Jeff (Peter Barton), and an actress with the wonderful name of Suki Goodwin (“Denise”), who has an English accent, all agree to haze-out and stay the night at Garth Manor, while the Scooby Snack crew of hazers attempt to rig spook-show special effects of a Rick’s Halloween Store flavor (echoing that old episode of Tales from the Darkside with the old man in the mansion on Halloween who goes to Hell with a stack of IOUs blowing in the wind) and scare ’em. But, of course, there really IS a monster about, and its trick is way worse than any treat.

Linda—lovely Linda—comes off as coy, demure, and a bunch of other female superlatives I borrowed from writers who actually understand them; she does have a certain apple-cheeked innocent cuteness about her that’s as infecting as a mephistophelian entity summoned by Ouija board in 1973. Everyone else, save for the Van Patten dude, is pretty much slasher feed until we reach the end. Then we realize they ripped off Frankenstein and made him an albino with long arms.

He, of course, is mute, as befits every slasher movie revenant—an imbecilic bloodletter who seems damn near impervious. A huge, ugly child, born of insane wealth, possibly incestuous union, in a picture ready-made for a Marxist reading. (The “thing” lurks in the mausoleum-like museum house, a testament to the corruption of the ruling classes. It dispatches bourgeois young people who find that the material world of success—the bright and shiny modern sphere of pop music, partying, easy sex, and material privilege—masks a darker truth, a distant reality exemplified by a ragged, angry, vengeful inarticulate bloodletter with an ugly, though strangely infantile, countenance and demeanor.)

Beyond whatever subtexts you can glean, personally, Hell Night stands as a moody, atmospheric, if somewhat hackneyed horror flick. It has enough T&A and cheap thrills—bloody good times—to keep the average sleaze lover interested. It lags here and there, and you may find your mind wandering. But it has its moments and, overall, is worth an hour and forty of your hard-won time. And unlike the contention of Arthur Rimbaud, who also wrote "A Night of Hell," you don’t, in the end, have to spend a whole season there. One evening is quite sufficient, thank you very much.

Hell Night (1981) | Full Horror Movie | Haunted Hazing Horror Ft. Linda Blair | ‪@ScreamboxFree‬

Follow me on Twitter/X": @Bakerb81252

My book: Cult Films and Midnight Movies: From Hih Art to Low Trash Volume 1:

Ebook

Print