Hell Night (1981)

This low-budget gem dates back to 1981, the glory days of horror in the wake of the sublime Halloween and the rather less sublime Friday the 13th. Director Tom DeSimone, better known for his work in the world of exploitation cinema, turned his attention to horror in an obvious attempt to cash in on the slasher boom and, as cheapies go, he came up with one of the better efforts of the period.

It’s utterly trashy, thoroughly stupid, drive-in level material, but cheesy fun all the same. The premise is so brazenly corny that it somehow works. A group of new pledges to that most moronic of American institutions—the college fraternity—must spend a night inside the dreaded Garth Manor if they hope to gain admission into Alpha Sigma Rho. Legend has it that twelve years earlier the former occupant of the mansion butchered his entire family in a night of unimaginable bloodshed.

Rumour has it that the manor is still haunted by the crazed killer, whose restless spirit prowls its corridors after dark. Proceedings take an age to gather momentum, leaving us largely in the company of our four pledges, but fortunately they are such wonderfully cheesy creations that their sheer awfulness becomes part of the entertainment.

Linda Blair, forever immortalised as Regan in The Exorcist, attacks her role with astonishing enthusiasm. Every movement, every sigh and every line reading exudes a level of earnest bad acting that immediately propels her into cult territory. She is impossibly sugary sweet in her wholesome, girl-next-door innocence before transforming into something resembling Fay Wray after several cups of very strong coffee whenever danger threatens. It is one of the most magnificently awful performances imaginable and deserves admiration on that basis alone. One can only wonder what untold acting treasures await in her legendary disco epic, Roller Boogie.

Blair’s performance is nothing short of spectacularly dreadful and almost justifies the film on its own. The remainder of the cast gamely follow suit. Jenny Neumann contributes a laugh or two as the obligatory British exchange student, while real-life tennis professional Vincent Van Patten demonstrates fairly conclusively that he probably should have remained on the court. Peter Barton, meanwhile, is the least interesting member of the quartet—a thoroughly forgettable dullard beside the glorious ineptitude surrounding him.

Then, almost exactly an hour into proceedings, just as eyelids begin to droop, something finally happens. The monstrous resident lurking beneath Garth Manor decides enough is enough, and one by one the revellers begin disappearing into the darkness. There are a handful of effective jack-in-the-box jolts along the way, although very little that could honestly be described as frightening.

This is less a horror film than a party movie designed for fraternity audiences after several beers too many. In the end, it is the sheer gusto and wholehearted commitment of Linda Blair’s astonishing performance that carries the day. Hell Night is vintage early-80s slasher cheese—an affectionate relic from a bygone era—and remains memorable largely because of Blair’s magnificently overcooked turn. Dressed in those wonderful white boots and that ridiculous Little Red Riding Hood-style poncho, she comes perilously close to becoming the film’s most unforgettable monster.