If you're reading this, you likely know all about the history of the so-called "slasher" flicks, but here's the moron version anyhow: a horror subgenre arguably spawned in the late '70s by films like HALLOWEEN, slashers were known for being super-cheap (hence quick and easy to produce), exploitative, misogynist and usually beholden to the same crusty-ass formula:

a) Psycho escapes from asylum, usually on the anniversary of a date that contributed to his/her crazyosity in the first place; b) said psycho returns to the location of the original dirty deed, usually seeking revenge, or just because they were nostalgic for their old killing grounds; c) obnoxious teenagers in the aforementioned locale are too busy drinking, rolling spliffs, playing inane pranks and having wild monkey-sex to notice that someone with a mask or costume concealing their identity is rapidly reducing their number with his trusty knife-machete-axe-icepick-saw-chain-shotgun-spear-meathook-tennis racket-garlic press-penguin puppet-etc. And finally, d) the "Nice Girl" (i.e. the token virgin, see also "the square") survives the mayhem to give the killer what-for in the last reel.

Released in 1984, with this tired trend on the downside of its incredible, if undeserved, popularity (I refuse to count the so-called "postmodern" vomit spawned by SCREAM and its ilk), GIRLS NITE OUT did little to energize the genre, nor did it distinguish itself as more than just another cookie-cutter stamp of the same old shit. Still, it is noteworthy (if you can call it that) not only for being one of the more competently produced entries in the canon, but also for its inclusion of top-drawer talent - in the form of Hal Holbrook, who no doubt lists his performance as "Mac the Security Guard" among the benchmarks in a brilliant career, probably just below his celebrated stage portrayal of Mark Twain. Then again, he may have forgotten the entire film mere seconds after cashing his paycheck - probably just a few seconds longer than moviegoers remembered the whiny big-screen debut of Holbrook's amazingly surly son David. Still, it's nice to see the creative dynamite that explodes when the two share the screen for the first time - well, the only time - and glare at each other while mumbling their lines.

But enough about multigenerational thespian excellence and back to the slasher formula, to which GIRLS NITE OUT (whose title includes both grammatical and spelling errors) adheres like a leech. Escaped psycho? Check. Anniversary/location of the events which made said psycho psychotic? Yup, in the form of a cozy Midwestern college, where the students are gearing up for their legendary all-night campus-wide scavenger hunt. Obnoxious teens? Well, twentysomethings, anyway, which still counts, since all the teenagers in slasher flicks are played by kids ten years too old anyway... and they drink like fish, smoke like chimneys, and fart like... people who fart a lot. They also like to tumble in and out of each other's beds at a remarkable rate, often changing partners (which leads to lots of jealousy, which leads to... wait for it... MURDER!!!). Masked marauder with weapon(s) of choice? Well, we got one here, even if it's about the goofiest getup I've seen since the bird-headed killer in Michele Soavi's STAGEFRIGHT. Way goofier, actually. What we get is a killer who decides the ideal wardrobe should be the costume of the basketball team's mascot - a ridiculously un-scary bear with cartoon eyes and a floppy twelve-inch tongue. To accessorize the look with something more utilitarian, the nutjob duct-tapes together a set of steak knives to grip from within the bear's right paw, resulting in a combination that can best be described as "Teddy Krueger." The only deviation from the formula stems from the exclusion of the heroic Nice Girl. Sure, pert little Julia Montgomery (who played a much naughtier role in REVENGE OF THE NERDS) might fit that bill, were it not for her vigorous sexual activity (only implied, so maybe it didn't happen?), and the fact that she's nowhere to be found when the killer is confronted in the "shocking" twist climax, which is just nuttier than all get-out. Oh well, you can't win 'em all.

That being said, I can begrudgingly admit there are a few interesting moments on display. For example, we can marvel at the hysterically intense level of spastic hi-jinks perpetrated by the young cast. I mean, the filmmakers REALLY want you to understand just how much wacky FUN these happy-go-lucky collegiate types are, by having them talk in "funny" voices, swill entire fifths of Jack Daniels in one gulp, and giggle like paint-huffing hyenas. These kids are having WAY too much fun to be believed... or maybe I just went to the wrong school. Also, we get a truly brain-damaged monologue performed by the unmasked killer in the final moments, complete with EXORCIST-style vocal modulations that make little sense, but are good for a laugh or two. (Ain't I a peach for not telling you whodunnit? I was so tempted! I'll say this much: the steak knives are actually a clue.)

Then there's the awe-inspiring, career-defining performance by Hal, in which he shares hardly a single shot with another actor, spends most of his scenes on the phone, and still has time to solve the mystery with the help of his trusty Sharpie marker. Oh, and let's not forget the acting tour-de-force that would launch the prolific career of Hal's be-mulleted offspring, who went on to play... um... the fat guy in CREEPSHOW 2. He's fun to watch here, not because he's a compelling actor, but because he looks ready to punch out everyone in sight. (His character doesn't really follow up on this vibe, however, and is given quite a shiner by his 85-pound ex-girlfriend.)

Combine this with a campus DJ with a Freddy Mercury mustache, a penchant for bad rhymes and a very small library of golden oldies (i.e. the filmmakers ponied up for the rights to a couple of Lovin' Spoonful songs, and they play the hell out of 'em), and you've got 90 minutes of... something.

At least it's a competently-filmed 90 minutes, with decent editing, well-composed photography and lighting (including most of the outdoor night scenes, often the bane of lesser-budgeted slashers), an interesting, if dorky, ensemble of actors - including alumni from slasher contemporaries FRIDAY THE 13TH PART 2 (Lauren Marie-Taylor) and THE BURNING (Carrick Glenn), a basketball star (Mart McChesney) who looks like "Queer Eye" fashion guy Carson Cressley on steroids, and the official "geek" character who looks like Talking Heads frontman David Byrne - and don't forget the loony who rasps "slut!" and "bitch!" while killing but politely apologizes to an incidental victim after murdering him for his bear suit.

Media Blasters has released this one as part of their "Guilty Pleasures" line - nothing to rival FRAULEIN LEATHER (review here), to be sure, but a decent time-waster nonetheless - and the package is nicely done. The anamporphic 1.85:1 transfer is sharp and relatively light on grain considering the cheaper film stock used; colors are a bit muted, but since most of the action takes place in dimly-lit locations, this is par for the course. There aren't too many instances when darkness obscures the action (what there is of it), and the black levels seem about right. The stereo track is clean and clear, with a robust low-end, although the aforementioned "oldies" (repeated ad nauseam throughout the film) are a bit too predominant in the mix.

Extras include a teaser trailer of the type they just don't make anymore (in which snippets of scenes are tied together by a vignette featuring a co-ed who breathily exclaims "I love to be scared..."); trailers for other Guilty Pleasures titles; an alternate title card for the overseas release (stupidly re-titled THE SCAREMAKER); and a strange little interview with Julia Montgomery, who still looks pretty much the same, but seems a tad bitter about the scene in which her character gets a "Dutch Oven" from her boyfriend.

So if you're nostalgic for the dying days of an already creatively bankrupt genre, really dig '80s hairstyles, crave an exploitation film that features virtually no explicit sex or violence (other than a few bodies with ketchup dribbled on them), or wish to complete your "Holbrook Family Perfect Collection," then by all means, buy this DVD, with my blessing. You will remember it forever as... uh... a DVD that you bought.