Saturday, August 24, 2024

Girl Missing (1933)

When two ex-chorus girls are ditched by a sugar-daddy who got wise and left them with a $700 hotel bill to contend with, they soon find themselves embroiled in a kidnapping plot when a fellow gold-digger disappears while on her honeymoon.

See, after June Dale (Brian) refuses the sexual advances of her escort, she and her gal pal, Kay Curtis (Farrell), look to Daisy Bradford (Shannon), an old friend and former showgirl, too, for a handout to get them out of their current financial jam. But she refuses.

As to why, well, unlike Kay and June, Daisy has managed to snare herself a marriage proposal from millionaire playboy Henry Gibson (Lyon) through some dubious machinations. This might explain why Daisy denies ever knowing them, scoffs at the notion of ever being a showgirl, and claims to come from a good, well-to-do family.

Stuck and thus, Kay takes what little money they have left to the hotel casino, hoping for a miracle, but they walk out flat busted. Salvation comes when they run into Daisy’s ex-boyfriend, Raymond Fox (Talbot), who agrees to clean up their hotel bill on the condition they both leave town immediately -- he even pays for the train tickets.

Finding the notorious gigilo’s behavior rather odd, and anxious, the girls agree but wind up missing their train. They return to the hotel just in time for the Gibson honeymoon, but that night Daisy up and disappears without a trace. And on top of that, notorious con-man Jim Hendricks (Huber) is found stabbed to death on the hotel grounds.

Smelling a rat -- personified by Fox, who they find out secretly orchestrated Daisy's marriage by faking her socialite background, our heroines, while in pursuit of Gibson’s substantial reward for his new bride's safe return, soon uncover an inheritance grab and a conspiracy to commit even more murder…

I first “officially” discovered Glenda Farrell around 2012 when I caught a broadcast of Smart Blonde (1936), the first of the Torchy Blane films, where Farrell played the wise-cracking, hard-nosed reporter that would help inspire Siegel and Shuster’s Lois Lane.

I had seen her before in other things, but she never really registered -- except my first encounter with Mystery of the Wax Museum (1933), where a teenaged me thought the motor-mouthed comedy-relief reporter was kind of annoying and drew way too much attention away from Fay Wray, Lionel Atwill, and the macabre elements that drew me to the film in the first place.

Well, turns out teenage me was an idiot. And an older me thinks Farrell is a highlight and the one who holds that movie together and makes it tick.

Ergo, Smart Blonde led me to the rest of the Torchy Blane movies, including Fly Away Baby (1937), The Adventurous Blonde (1937) and Torchy Gets Her Man (1938). There were eight total films in the series (-- nine if you count 1939s Playing with Dynamite, where Jane Wyman replaced Farrell as Torchy), which are all amazing and perfect vehicles for Farrell’s wise-ass joy de vivre.

And ever since, in my usual obsessive compulsive fashion, I went on a crash course on the life and times and film career of My Gal Glenda, making new discoveries as well as reevaluating films I’d already seen -- which, admittedly, wasn’t that many. (My loss.) And the more I dug, the more I fell in love with her.

A native of Enid, Oklahoma, the Farrell family migrated to San Diego, California, around 1910, where Glenda landed a spot in the Virginia Brissac Stock Company at the age of 11.

Glenda Farrell.

“I got this job doing the kid parts in Rebecca of Sunnybrook Farm -- I didn’t play Rebecca till I was 16 or 17, but I played Minnie Snelly and some of the other kid parts in it,” said Farrell (The Reminiscences of Glenda Farrell, Columbia Center for Oral History Collection, 1959). “There were a lot of those old plays they used to do in stock. It was a regular stationary company, a famous stock company in San Diego.”

In 1920, while dancing at a Naval benefit ball, she met Thomas Richards, a decorated World War I vet. They fell in love, got married, and had a son, Tommy. But the marriage didn’t last as Richards fell into a pit of depression and alcoholism that led to their eventual divorce.

Thus, by 1929, Farrell was a divorced single mother. “We were so poor that I was forced to make my baby’s diapers out of old flour sacks,” said Farrell (Classic Images, May, 1988). “But I hemmed them all by hand tenderly as if they had been of the finest materials, for my Tommy was the most welcome and looked-forward-to baby in the world.”

She ran into some luck landing a role in the play The Spider, when the lead actress dyed her hair black and got fired by an irate producer. Here, Glenda was promoted and went with the production when it moved to New York. More roles on the stage followed, including a critically acclaimed performance in On the Spot, where she was spotted by a talent scout for Warners, who cast Farrell to play the girlfriend of Douglas Fairbanks Jr.’s character in Little Caesar (1931).

“That was just accidental,” said Farrell (CCOHC, 1959). “Lila Lee was supposed to play [Olga Stassoff in] Little Caesar, and she got ill. I was doing some show, and someone approached me about it, and I went out and did the movie, then came back to New York … You see, I tried -- every agent tried to get me into pictures, but I never was a very pretty girl. I always had deep circles under my eyes, and lines down beside my mouth. I’d test, and they’d say, ‘You don’t photograph.’ So at the time they called me for Little Caesar, I thought, ‘Oh -- what’ll I use for a face?’”

Then, in 1932, Jack Warner signed Farrell to play the lead in the film version of Life Begins (1932) -- even though the Broadway show was a bona fide dud. Said Farrell (CCOHC, 1959), “It only ran five performances. We had quite a bit of rehearsal. Several talent scouts came to see me, because it was a very wonderful part, a flashy part and a great part. Warner Bros. suddenly bought it. Now, we only ran five days! But they bought it, and bought me with it, and that was the start of my picture career.”

After finishing the film, Farrell had planned to return to Broadway but Warners picked up the five-year option as part of her Life Begins contract. And the Brothers Warner quickly put the actor to work, taking supporting roles in Three on a Match (1932), The Match King (1932) and I Am a Fugitive from a Chain Gang (1932) opposite Paul Muni, which led to her role as reporter Florence Dempsey in Mystery of the Wax Museum -- a film she absolutely ran away with.

“Warner Bros. had a great system,” said Farrell (CCOHC, 1959). “They built actors up faster than any other studio. You became known, because they had you in so many that you became known very rapidly. I was just glad to do them. I liked working, and I just did it because they told me to. I went into every picture they gave me.”

After receiving good notices for her supporting roles, Jack Warner decided to finally reward his burgeoning starlet with her own starring vehicle. Thus, Robert Florey’s Girl Missing (1933) would be Glenda Farrell's first time at the top of the bill.

Of course, this snappy, wise-cracking tale full of pretzel-twists and unexpected turns was another spin on Avery Hopwood's play, The Gold Diggers (1919), where enterprising young ladies sink their hooks into a sugar-daddy, making them pay out the nose for the *ahem* ‘milk’ they expected to get for free; only here, there was no show to put on just money to be chiseled and, in this case, a mystery to be solved.

“Really, I’m not the least bit like the roles I play,” said Farrell (Classic Images, 1998). “In movies I’m usually cast as a wisecracking, gold-digging dame, you know. But actually I never wisecrack And as for gold-digging, I’ve never been able to wangle a thing. Everything I’ve ever had, I’ve worked for and paid myself.”

The Brothers Warner had a huge hit with The Gold Diggers of Broadway (1929) and had been spinning cash-ins ever since. Gold Diggers of 1933 (1933) would hit theaters a couple of months after Girl Missing premiered, and Warners would continue making sequels and spin-offs mined from both veins of the same premise until these offshoots kinda collided with Gold Diggers of 1937 (1936).

The film was scripted by Carl Erickson and Don Mullaly, who also wrote Mystery of the Wax Museum, and they definitely scribbled to Farrell's strengths -- meaning her motor-mouth, acid-tongue, and the application of both to cut anyone around her off at the knees. But she never punched down, only up.

Meanwhile, behind the camera, after serving as an assistant to the likes King Vidor and Josef von Sternberg, Florey's first big break came when he co-directed and helped rein in the Marx Brothers on their first feature film, The Cocoanuts (1929).

Big things seemed to be in store for the fledgling director and, after a string of bizarrely avant-garde but well received shorts, Florey was Carl Laemmle Jr.'s original choice for Universal's adaptation of Frankenstein (1931), then slated to star Bela Lugosi.

However, Florey and Lugosi were soon bumped off the project for James Whale and Boris Karloff. Both were given Murders in the Rue Morgue (1932) as a consolation prize.

Alas, Frankenstein appears to have been Florey's one big chance. Aside from a few standouts like The Woman in Red (1935) and The Beast with Five Fingers (1946), he mostly bounced around from studio to studio, working in the B-units. And speaking frankly, there isn't much to commend on his efforts in Girl Missing either; but luckily, his cast, led by Farrell, overcompensates for this pedestrian effort.

Teamed up with "the sweetest girl in pictures," Mary Brian had started in the silents, debuting as Wendy Darling in Peter Pan (1924), then made a successful transition to the talkies, and had recently completed Lewis Milestone's version of The Front Page (1931), where she played the jilted fiance of Pat O'Brien's Hildy Johnson.

Now partnered with Farrell, one should note that Girl Missing was one of the first films to feature two female leads in this kind of murder-comedy-romance-buddy picture, which came out about the same time Thelma Todd and Zazu Pitts were paired up in a series of shorts like Asleep with the Feet (1933) and One Track Minds (1933).

In the supporting cast, Guy Kibbee has a glorified cameo as the posh who sniffs out their scheme, turns the tables, and abandons our heroines with the check; an act that officially puts the plot proper in motion. Edward Ellis is also pretty great as the police inspector, who bears the brunt of Farrell's loquaciousness. Sharp eyes will recognize Ellis as the thin man from The Thin Man (1934). And Ben Lyon was a last second replacement for Walter Huston as the playboy.

Another highlight is Helen Ware and Ferdinand Gottschalk, who are hysterical as a couple of grifting fudds posing as the high society parents of the missing bride, who is played with much vice and venom by Peggy Shannon. And Lyle Talbot (another frequent co-star of Farrell's) plays the slimy cad Fox, whose fault all this is.

See, Fox and Daisy were in cahoots all along. The scheme was to conspire to get Daisy married to Gibson, then have her husband “disappear” -- permanently. Then, when he’s declared dead, Daisy would inherit his money and she and Fox would live happily ever after. That is, they would have before Kay and June got involved.

Things started to unravel when fellow con-man Hendricks sniffed out their plan, which is why Fox killed him in the hotel’s garden. This forced an audible, which led to Daisy’s faux disappearance instead -- all part of an attempt to frame Gibson for Hendricks’ murder.

Meanwhile, Kay and June team up with Gibson to find Daisy and claim that $25,000 in reward money. But along the way, June and Gibson obviously start to have feelings for each other. This is cemented when the girls save Gibson from a fatal car accident when they discover his automobile was sabotaged.

Here, Kay starts to piece it all together (-- well, she should, as she was an acquaintance of all the nefarious players involved), and suggests they pretend Gibson was killed in the wreck and see what happens.

Sure enough, when word gets out that her husband is dead, Daisy magically reappears, safe and sound, claiming Gibson had kidnapped her after she witnessed him killing Hendricks. 

This accusation, of course, quickly unravels when Gibson reveals himself. And as the scheme collapses completely -- but not without a fight, caught, the killers finally confess and are carted off to jail.

With that, Gibson gives Kay all the reward money because June won’t be needing it. You see, they have officially fallen in love and will soon be married. But! He has to divorce Daisy first, and to those ends jumps on the Reno Express with a promise to return, which brings us to…

Girl Missing was shot in 13 days with a budget of $107,000 under its original title, The Blue Moon Murder Case. (In reference to the Blue Moon Hotel, where the majority of the story takes place.) When it was released, The New York Times (April 1, 1933) called the film a near miss:

"The question of what happened to Peggy Shannon is worrying the principal characters in Girl Missing, but the routine and slow-paced quality of the production makes the problem less acute for its audiences. Hidden away in the picture is the material for a lively melodrama which never realizes its full possibilities. The resources that the Warners have summoned to the task of telling this story include a good deal of unintelligent dialogue, feeble direction and an unconvincing arrangement of the narrative.”

In Girl Missing, Farrell and Brian definitely have great chemistry together as they run circles around the cops, solve a murder, unravel the conspiracy, save the hero, and, most important of all, make some money. (And they both look positively gorgeous dudded-up in all those Orry-Kelly fashions.)

Now, there's also a great secret toy surprise to be found in this film, too, in the form of a then unknown actor playing a brief cameo as a bamboozled grease-monkey (-- pictured below), who loans out his “flivver” to our gal-pal-amateur sleuths, so they can catch up to Gibson before his own sabotaged car does him in.

(L-R) Joan Blondell & Glenda Farrell in Kansas City Princess (1934).

And if nothing else, we should all be grateful because Girl Missing showed this kind of Two-GIrl, two-punch combo had box-office potential, setting a solid template for a series of films where Farrell was paired up with Joan Blondell, a national treasure, who provided the donner und blitzen for Havana Widows (1933), Kansas City Princess (1934), I’ve Got Your Number (1934), Traveling Saleslady (1935), Miss Pacific Fleet (1935) and We’re in the Money (1935) to mucho box-office success.

“Glenda Farrell is, at all times, very natural,” said Blondell (Hollywood Magazine, January, 1936). “She isn’t one bit camera-conscious. Doesn’t know a good angle from a bad one and works just as hard with her back to the camera as facing it. Her movements are always quick, her speech spontaneous. When she goes into a scene she never follows the script to the sacrifice of her naturalness. She acts just as she would if the same situation arose in her every-day life. In other words, she suits the part to her personality instead of trying to suit her personality to the script.”

Said Farrell (The New York Times, February 9, 1969), “We really were a big happy family at Warners. When I went out there to do Little Caesar in 1930, the talkies were still new. Not many actors could talk, so they shoved the ones who came from Broadway into everything. It all went so fast. I used to ask myself, ‘What set am I on today? What script am I supposed to be doing -- this one or this one?’ Up at five every morning, start work at a quarter of six, work till seven or eight at night. By the time you got home it was nine. Then you had to study your lines, have your dinner and bath and go to bed. You worked till midnight on Saturday. All I ever really wanted was a day off.”

All told, Girl Missing was a pretty good time -- not great, but pretty good, and it's fairly easy to see why it got made. As a showcase for Farrell it was a good dry run for what would come later with Blondell. And, well, we all have to start somewhere.

Originally posted on June 15, 2013, at Micro-Brewed Reviews. 

Girl Missing (1933) The Vitaphone Corporation :: Warner Bros. / P: Jack Warner / D: Robert Florey / W: Carl Erickson, Don Mullaly / C: Arthur L. Todd / E: Ralph Dawson / M: Bernhard Kaun / S: Glenda Farrell, Mary Brian, Ben Lyon, Lyle Talbot, Peggy Shannon, Edward Ellis, Guy Kibbee

Saturday, August 10, 2024

Massacre at Central High (1976): Part Two.

As you remember, in Part One of our Two Part look at Rene Daalder’s Massacre at Central High (1976), we managed to link together the chain of outré circumstances that led to a small, Chicago-based independent film distributor teaming up with a Dutch filmmaker to make a horror film in the same, sliced-open vein of The Texas Chain Saw Massacre (1974).

But then, we failed to resolve how this joint effort suddenly went from a grisly exploitation tale, with a mad killer and (at least) nine dead teenagers, and instead turned into a nearly bloodless, all-out political allegory on the horrors of fascism and knuckling under by force into a conditioned passive obedience; a harsh lesson in civics, for sure, which left out the gore but kept in all the nudity because of ... reasons. 

But fear not! We’re gonna unravel this nearly fifty year old mystery, or die typing. And to do that, we need to finish sorting through the evidence Daalder left behind on film first. 

The Waterloo Courier (May 10, 1974).

Now. At times, in its execution, Massacre at Central High comes off as one of those earnest but fervently fundamentalist scare screeds about the coming Rapture and the Tribulation that came out of Iowa’s Mark IV Productions, starting with A Thief in the Night (1972). But instead of putting the fear of God and eternal damnation in us, Daalder was more interested in instilling a fear and a general mistrust of others.  

And we’re going to dig into these notions further to try and solve this paradigm, believe me, as we catch up with Teresa (Beck) in the halls of Central High, talking with Mary and Jane (-- and yes, I do giggle every single time I type those names).

When they spot David (Maury) heading to gym class, Mary (Smith) comments on his muscles and good looks. Here, Jane (O'Grady) says if she wants a shot at him she'd best do it fast before Bruce and his goons get their hooks in him.

Inside the gym, while David easily shimmies up the dreaded rope of doom, Bruce (Underwood) and the rest of the Elite encourage the hapless Oscar (Winner) to climb higher -- by employing a switch-blade to his butt as incentive!

Refusing to join in on the hazing, David hits the showers. His old friend Mark (Stevens) follows, proudly claiming Oscar got two-feet higher than he ever had before. With that, David finally loses his temper and angrily accuses Mark of changing into something they always hated. Here, worried that he might do something rash, Mark begs David not to push the issue with Bruce.

Later, when classes let out, they round up Teresa before heading to the beach, but Bruce intercepts them, asking to borrow Mark for a minute. As they disappear into the back of Paul’s van, when they're out of earshot, David rips into Bruce’s "little league Gestapo" as he complains to Teresa about how nobody does anything to stop them. Teresa has no answers.

Inside the van, Bruce voices his concerns over David’s failure to fall in line. Bruce seems to be spoiling for a fight, but Mark assures it’s a fight he won’t win; and how David would make a better asset than an enemy; and promises that his friend will eventually come around with a little more time. (Let’s check the Magic 8-Ball on that one: “Outlook not so good.”)

Later, David watches and simmers as the Elite takes over the school's swimming pool. When they get in, everyone else must get out. Here, he follows Spoony (Carradine), who was rousted out of the water, and asks why he doesn't fight back? Spoony says he tried to protest once, with disastrous results, and is now content to find inner-peace (-- if you know what I mean, and as a wise man once said, I think you do.)

The next morning, David spots the now car-less Rodney (Sykes) trying to hitchhike to school. At first he won't accept a ride with David, thinking he's one of Bruce's goons. But David assures he is definitely not and offers to help Rodney fix-up his old car; they can even use his garage since Rodney's dad doesn't like strangers coming around his farm because they upset the chickens. "TWANG!" (Sorry, that was my brain. Reset. Next paragraph, aaaaand go!)

When these two new friends pull into the school’s parking lot, rolling past Bruce and the others, who are ever lurking in Paul’s Black Van of Death -- that I've affectionately dubbed the B-VoD in my notes. Apparently, Bruce doesn't like seeing David hanging around with losers; but his attention is quickly drawn to Mary and Jane, who finally picked the wrong day to mouth off to him.

Oh yes, Bruce has plans for these two girls, but they'll have to wait because it's time to hit the library and pick on poor Arthur (Kort) first. Ergo, Bruce and Craig (Bond) watch as Paul (Douglas) returns an overdue book; and when he refuses to pay the fine, Arthur's pleas for a logical resolution are ignored as he's thrown to the floor and buried under a staggering amount of books.

The deed done, the elite leaves the library just as Mark and David walk in. But as David moves to help Arthur, Mark tries to stop him. When David presses on, Mark warns him to not ruin a good thing, reminding David that he’s got it made at Central High -- unless he blows it by playing the hero.

But David counters with the same accusations, and punctuates this point by ripping into Mark, reiterating how much his old friend has changed into everything they used to hate the minute he started thinking he was better than guys like Arthur and Rodney.

Not wanting to hear this, Mark storms off, leaving David alone to dig out poor Arthur. When the bookworm finally comes up for air, he informs David that he's breaking a long school tradition. David says, He sure hopes so. Again, David asks why doesn't anybody fight back? Arthur, ever the logical pragmatist, claims ‘fighting back’ is an ill-conceived notion considering his physical prowess. When David suggests he doesn't have to fight alone, Arthur dejectedly replies that it's best if we each lose our own battles.

Now, here, I will pause and take the opportunity to point out that we're almost an hour into a film called Massacre at Central High and there has been little hint or sign of any kind of massacre. Hello? Movie? *tap*tap*tap* Is this thing on? Hello?!?

Meanwhile, as Arthur explains the Circle of Life via the Dewey Decimal system to David, things turn a little more sinister when Bruce and the boys decide to take Mary and Jane down a few pegs (-- if you know what I mean, and unfortunately, you probably do.) It's not a question of scoring, Bruce lecherously intones, it's about "teaching these bitches a lesson."

This proves too much for Mark, who bows out even though the others haze him and question his manhood. Regardless, the others drag Mary and Jane into a deserted classroom, where Bruce commits to the raping and pillaging. To their credit, the girls put up one helluva fight for as long as they can but are soon overpowered. (Magic 8-Ball says, "WHERE IN THE HELL ARE ALL THE TEACHERS IN THIS FRIGGIN' SCHOOL!?")

Outside, Mark runs into Teresa, who was looking for Mary and Jane. He says forget it, they're busy "partying" with Bruce. But Teresa knows what Bruce's idea of a "good time" is and rushes to put a stop to it.

As she bursts into the classroom just as Mary's clothes are about to be ripped off, Bruce orders Teresa to get out. When she refuses, luckily for her, since she's Mark's girlfriend, instead of just adding her to the molestation pile, Bruce just forcefully throws her out into the hall -- where she plows right into David.

Back inside the now locked classroom, Paul and Craig, worried that Teresa will go for help, think maybe they should just call the gang rape off. But Bruce nixes that idea and orders them to continue with the stripping -- until there's a loud knock at the door. Then a voice, claiming to be Mark, asks to be let in.

But before it can be opened, the door is forcibly kicked in, sending Paul sprawling. Next, David storms in and proceeds to beat the hell out of all of them, with Mary and Jane happily joining in on this ass-whupping. (And kick them junior fascists in the balls once for me, eh!)

When it's over, after scraping what's left of Bruce off the bottom of his shoe, and making sure Mary and Jane are alright, David chases Teresa down. Obviously, he's falling for her, but she's not really happy with any males right now; and who will in no way, shape, or form applaud that display of testosterone. (Well, ma'am, he did just prevent two sexual assaults.) Claiming his intentions were noble, Teresa softens and suggests they both go for a long walk on the beach to cool off. He agrees.

Meanwhile, in the B-VoD, as the Elite lick their wounds, a mortified Bruce openly worries if word ever gets out that David beat the shit out of all of them, alone, their reign of terror will be over. Still insisting it would be better to have David working with them instead of against them, Mark is given just one last chance to get David in line.

Meantime, at the beach, as David explains how his temper gets the better of him sometimes, Teresa finally admits she's glad someone finally fought back -- and wishes she had the guts to fight back, too; but, she also admits that it's too easy to hide behind Mark. (Which, to me, does make Teresa a collaborator.) However, with David taking a stand, perhaps she can find some unfound courage, too. They walk on, noticeably closer together now.

Up on the coastal road, the Little League Gestapo spots David's jeep and they let Mark out to go and talk to him. Heading down to the water, he spots Teresa's and David's clothes; he can also hear them giggling to each other out in the surf. And after seeing them frolicking nude in the water, embracing each other, a jealous Mark returns to the B-VoD but just tells them he tried but David refused.

With that, Bruce promises that David won't know what hit him. Mark, again, takes a pass on the coming retaliation. The others wait and follow David home, where they will confront him in his garage.

Currently underneath Rodney's car, banging away at something, David refuses to acknowledge Bruce and the others. Not to be ignored, Bruce kicks at David's legs. Alas, when David kicks back at him, they knock the car off the jack in the resulting melee; and in a rather graphic scene, David’s leg is crushed under the back axle. Intended or not, Bruce and the others split while David screams in agony.

While David recuperates from this devastating injury, Mark and Teresa try to visit him in the hospital but he refuses to see anyone. He's lost the damaged leg from the knee down, but David claims to the authorities that he was alone when it happened and it was just a freak accident.

After another unsuccessful visit, Teresa makes a full confession to Mark about skinny-dipping with David; and how she had wanted to take things even further, and David did, too, but he ultimately refused because she was Mark's girl. This revelation pushes Mark's guilt into overdrive, and honestly, he kinda checks out for awhile.

Meanwhile, at the school, all the geeks and nerds -- Spoony, Mary, Jane, Oscar, Arthur, and Rodney -- gather together, pining for what might’ve been if David hadn't gotten hurt until Bruce and the others break-up their little conclave.

Eventually, David returns to classes. Hampered with a false leg and a bad limp, he's stopped by Bruce, who thanks him for not ratting them out. But David ominously states that ratting people out just isn't his style. Now, Bruce is no fool and knows full well that this was a threat -- but thinks, What can a cripple do to him?

Plenty.

Here, David's quest for revenge against the Elite begins in the parking lot, where he sabotages Bruce's hang-glider that's always stored on top of the B-VoD. 

Thus, when the Elite heads out to Malibu, after Bruce climbs into the harness and takes off, things go smoothly -- until that vital wire David tampered with finally snaps.

Then, like a giant wounded bird, Bruce loses control and careens into some power-lines, where he is brutally electrocuted before he can even properly crash. Written off as a terrible accident, we know better. That's one down and three to go. Yes. Three; for David is gunning for his old friend Mark, too.

But Craig is the next one to have an untimely accident. A member of the diving team, he abuses his privileges by using the pool after school hours. However, on this particular night, the janitors had left him a note saying the pool had been emptied for cleaning. David finds and destroys this note first, and then sabotages the lights. 

Unaware -- and not very observant, Craig does a jack-knife off the high-board into an empty pool. Here, David turns the lights back on to make sure that prick Craig can see what is coming before he lands. Splat. Two down. Two to go.

When the Geek Council meets again, Arthur postulates that these freak accidents are more than coincidental, but Spoony thinks it's just delayed karma finally biting the Elite right on the ass. Then, when Paul tries to bully them David intervenes, saying his threats are no good anymore.

Here, Mark pulls Paul away before they can exchange punches. But while they retreat, the geeks cheer, clamoring that they should have taken a stand a long time ago. They ask David to join them but he respectfully declines.

Meanwhile, Paul also thinks David is behind these accidents. Mark doesn't disagree, but there's nothing they can do except keep a low profile and stay off his radar. (Or maybe go to the police?!?) Later, when Teresa tries to talk to David again, he says to just forget about him and move on.

After school, while Paul surfs, Mark and Teresa argue about David until Teresa stomps off. When Paul paddles in, more paranoid than ever, he claims he won't be an easy target like the others. But then what does he do? He goes off -- by himself -- back to the B-VoD. Brilliant.

Throwing his surfboard in the back, he crawls in behind it; but once inside, we hear someone hitting him. Then David jumps out, puts the van in neutral and pushes it down the hill until gravity takes over. And he's long gone before Mark makes it to the road, just in time to see the B-VoD careen wildly backwards down the road toward a cliff. 

He gives chase but it's hopeless as Paul comes to just as the B-VoD flips over the guardrail and crashes down the cliff, where it detonates and fireballs on impact. Three down, with only Mark to go.

Back on the road, Mark calls for David to show himself, who magically appears beside him. Accused of multiple-murder, David snaps back that if Mark knew what he was up to, then why didn't he do anything to stop him?

Sensing his days are numbered, Mark tries to bring up their old friendship again but David says to stuff that crap. With that, Mark surrenders and says to just get it over with then, and kill him right there on the spot. But David smirks; there will be no swift mercy killings. He'll choose when and where, and hopes Mark will be man enough to at least struggle.

Unknown to either of them, Teresa overheard this whole conversation.

After the latest "tragic accident,” David strolls through the school, soaking in the peace and serenity he's created by eliminating the Elitist cancer. 

Strangely, while everybody gets along great at first, anarchy eventually creeps into this new utopia -- starting with a seemingly harmless food fight in the cafeteria.


Later that night, Teresa rousts David out of bed, begging him not to kill Mark, blubbering that if he kills Mark, he kills her, too. Unable to stand the sight of a blubbering woman, David promises that nothing will happen to either of them.

Meanwhile, at the school, the void left by the deceased Elite is just begging to be filled and proves too tantalizing for some as the Geek Council starts to splinter in an attempt to seize power: Oscar is starting to bully people in the halls; and Arthur refuses to cooperate with Spoony, Mary or Jane as they fail to form a unified front.

Separately, they all try to form an alliance with David, who grows more frustrated with each offer. Didn't he just fix this problem? The last straw comes when David finds Rodney in the parking lot driving Bruce's old muscle car, which he bought cheap off of his grieving parents.

He then watches as Rodney attacks Mark's car, breaking a headlight and windshield by chucking a rock through it. Of course Hot Rod wants to join up with David, too, take over the school, and then put all those rich kids in their place.

That night, we spy a disillusioned David in his garage working on some concoction. When it's done, he dumps the contents into a pipe and applies a fuse. Uh-oh. This isn't going to end well, is it? (Magic 8-Ball says, “Signs point to yes.”)

The next day, when Spoony and the girls take another run at Arthur in the library to consolidate their factions, he can't hear them at first because his hearing-aid is set too low. 

Turning it up, we hear a high-pitched screech, and then Arthur seizes up from this feedback before collapsing -- and we spy blood coming out of his ear. Arthur is dead through some dubious sabotage.

And while Spoony and the others protest their innocence, Oscar roams the halls, tossing people around. Moseying up to his locker, he opens it -- and is blown to bits. 

Before the smoke clears from this obvious booby-trap, as the student-body flees the school in a panic, Rodney spots David out in the parking lot and asks what happened?

Obviously, says David, some student has gone insane and he advises Rodney to vacate the premises immediately. 

Taking that advice, Rodney hops into his new car and turns the ignition, triggering another massive explosion.

Quickly moving on to mop up the rest of the Geek Council, David tracks down Spoony, Mary and Jane -- currently hiding out by occupying a tent at the bottom of a cliff. Inside, the threesome are up to no good. Doing what exactly? I have no idea -- but I bet it has something to do with sex, nudity and drugs.

Anyhoo, when the cliff is rocked with a series of explosions, the resulting rock-slide buries the tent and I believe Spoony, Mary and Jane are now part of the cosmic consciousness. You dig? I dig.

But even with the Geek Council eliminated, yet another group moves to take its place. When Harvey finds David at his garage, he offers a plan: they can frame Mark for all the killings, and then David can have Teresa and Harvey can take over the school. 

Realizing that this cycle will never end, David is helplessly caught in a mess of his own making -- unless he does something even more drastic!

Speaking of Mark and Teresa, where is our non-committal couple anyway? Well, they're still giving sanctions more time. (I kid. I kid.) After (the prerequisite) nine grisly deaths, Mark has finally decided to do something. Go to the police? No, that would be logical. Instead, he's gotten his hands on a gun and they drive to David's garage to stop this once and for all.

Ordering Teresa to stay in the car, he heads inside and catches David putting the finishing touches on his latest project of mass destruction. Impressed that Mark finally got the stones to act, David opens up and admits that his plan, though noble in intention, was fatally flawed. And how he now knows the ultimate remedy for the school's social problems: there can be no social problems in the school if there is no school!

For the moment, with the gun, Mark has the upper-hand -- David even challenges Mark to shoot him on the spot and end this, but Teresa picks this inopportune time to barge in. With that distraction, David manages to get the gun away from Mark without much trouble. He then excuses himself, time to execute his final solution, and locks them inside the garage.

At the school, the alumni dance is in full swing in the gym as David moves emotionless through the revelers like a ghostly apparition moving through barely animate corpses. Has he planted the bomb yet? Who knows.

Back at the garage, Mark finally manages to kick the door open. As they head for the dance, he tells Teresa about David’s plan to blow up the school, but together, he assures, they can stop him -- if they can reach him in time. Why? Because David loves Teresa. Sure. Why not?

Then, the plot-specific car radio says that evidence was found in Spoony's abandoned van, planted by David, framing him as the killer. We also can’t help but notice that Mark's car has magically healed itself from Rodney's earlier attack. That’s me shrugging right now.

They spot David in the gym, still watching the people / automata trying to dance, and confront him. He warns the couple that they have about three minutes to get out before things go boom. But when Mark and Teresa refuse to leave, David tenses up but, screw it, he warned them -- everybody in the gym is going to die.

When he moves to leave, Mark and Teresa just join in the dancing, fully prepared to meet their doom.

After leaving the gym, David hesitates, then stops, and heads back inside. And while Mark and Teresa literally dance their lives away, David moves as fast as he can, retrieving the bomb from underneath the boiler in the basement. He then manages to get outside just as it promptly explodes before he can get rid of it.

Inside the gym, the revelers hear the explosion and head outside to investigate. The older people think it's just some damn fool kids playing a prank -- until they spot the smoldering corpse.

When the police arrive, we pan over to Mark and Teresa; they both agree to make David a hero, saying he discovered that Spoony and the others planted the bombs and died saving them all, bringing our strange allegory to a bittersweet end.

I first caught Massacre at Central High in the wee hours of the morning on one of the SuperStations back in the 20th century -- TBS, I think, back when Ted Turner’s SuperStations didn’t suck. And being basic cable, this was a severely truncated, pan ‘n’ scan version with all the naughty bits cut out and constant commercial interruptions.

Now, I was aware of the film, thanks to Danny Peary's Cult Movie books, who is one of my favorite film critics / essayists and highly influential on all what you read here; but on that initial viewing, the film didn’t quite land for me. In fact, if memory serves, I fell asleep before it really got going -- but that might’ve been the lateness of the hour as it came on at 2 in the morning. My memory also says it was the back end of a themed double feature with Class of 1984 (1982). 

Thankfully, I was smart enough to also tape it. Still have that tape, too, though some moron recorded over the first ten minutes. That’s me raising a guilty hand. (Curse my lack of labeling skills!) I mentioned all of this when I originally reviewed the film on the Mothership back in the day -- circa 2003, when I first unearthed that VHS tape, and where I almost taped over the rest of it. Back then, I reserved final judgment on Massacre at Central High until I could see it again, uncut and uncensored, someday. And, well, obviously, that took awhile.

There were a few VHS releases, one as early as 1981, but it was sold as a Slasher film, which it most definitely isn't. (I'm not even sure if it qualifies as a Horror movie.) Given the tenor of the times, in the era of Friday the 13th (1980) and Happy Birthday to Me (1981), this was understandable, but I’m not really sure if getting suckered in the Horror aisle at your favorite video store did a whole lot to engender a wider fanbase.

Look, if your “horror film” has the word “massacre” in its title but it’s almost an hour before anybody is, well, massacred, this might tend to piss off your target audience. And while the body count is high, the killings are totally back-ended and aren’t very graphic as the filmmakers show a great deal of restraint. (Also of note: no actual knives or axes appear in the film.) Thus, these VHS tapes quickly became scarce, the SuperStations started showing infomercials on the overnights, and after a few subpar efforts to make the digital leap, Massacre at Central High fell into relative obscurity.

And speaking frankly, I openly wondered if the main reasons why this film enjoyed such a “beguiling” reputation as an Underground Cult Classic was due to its scarcity, when all you could do was take another’s word for it. And speaking even more frankly, I wasn’t really sure if wider circulation would’ve helped this film's reputation or hurt it.

The Indianapolis Star (October 15, 1976).

Now, the film had an uphill climb to any shred of notoriety or minor renown from the jump. Being released by Lange and the smaller Brian Distribution Company, the film could only be released regionally. According to Peary (Cult Movies 2, 1983), “Massacre at Central High opened at upstate New York drive-ins in September of 1976, and did promising business. However, when it played in Washington in October, business was soft. It next opened in Atlanta at Thanksgiving, and attendance was low due to bad weather, a fact, also, for its poor performance in the Dallas-Houston area.”

Audiences that did see it didn’t know what to make of it. And “after having had three successive unsuccessful runs in major markets, by Christmas, Massacre had a bad stigma attached to it. And though it would eventually play all over America, it rarely was rented by desirable theaters for extended plays.” Checking the newspaper ads in my neck of the woods confirmed it played strictly at the Drive-In; but it had legs and did stay in circulation, playing as a second or third feature until at least 1982. Obviously there was something there that attracted an audience.

The Grand Island Independent (October 7, 1977).

Apparently -- again, according to Peary -- the film didn’t get any real traction until late 1980, when it was revived in New York City and Vincent Camby gave it that good review in The New York Times (December 5, 1980). Said Camby, “Any film that so efficiently juggles so many ideas deserves attention.”

As the legend goes, Camby was walking home late at night from a social engagement when he happened to pass the Thalia Theater, a revival haven for NYC movie buffs for generations. It was a regular haunt for the likes of Peter Bogdanovich, Martin Scorcese, and Woody Allen -- who would feature the theater as a location in Annie Hall (1977).

The Calumet Times (September 6, 1981).

And on that fateful night, spotting a huge line wrapped around the block, waiting to catch a midnight revival screening of Massacre at Central High, a curious Camby got in line to see what all the hub-bub was about. And his glowing review brought in other curious critics like Amy Taubin, Andrew Sarris, Richard Schickel, and Roger Ebert, who had all summarily ignored the film on its initial release.

Ebert would showcase the film in a “More Guilty Pleasures” episode of Sneak Previews (S5.E40, 1981). Said a guilty Ebert, “Massacre at Central High is actually a very good movie, a considerable filmmaking achievement that got overlooked back in 1976 for a variety of reasons, probably including a small budget, no big stars, marginal theatrical distribution, and a title that makes the movie seem sleazy and cheap.

The Lexington Herald Leader (June 16, 1981).

“But Massacre at Central High is a well crafted allegory that deliberately excludes almost all the adults and teachers in the high school in order to show us the student body as a breeding ground for fascism,” said Ebert. "At the beginning of the film, a tightly knit and rigidly authoritarian gang absolutely controls every aspect of life in this high school. They make trouble for misfits, nonconformists, and even the teenage library assistant. It’s intriguing the way they talk out their motivations. These are not the usual inarticulate movie teenagers.”

But Ebert felt the most interesting aspect of Massacre at Central High was that it doesn’t come up with simple social reasons why some of these students become violent bullies and the rest knuckle under.

“This is not a screenplay by sociologists,” explained Ebert. “Instead, Massacre at Central High is about the very nature of violence as a tool for intimidation and brainwashing. Violence that not only frightens the targets of brutality but also acts powerfully to indoctrinate the gang members themselves. It’s a little strange; it’s a little unexpected somehow; but a movie named Massacre at Central High is an intelligent and uncompromising allegory about the psychology of violence.”

At the time, remember, both Siskel and Ebert were engaged in an all out Holy War against Slasher films and those who made them, decrying these teenage body count movies as being both degrading to women and mere excuses for the special effects to graphically render victims.

The Grand Island Independent (May 15, 1981).

Said Ebert, “We have spent the 1980-81 season on Sneak Previews attacking all of these films about violence and teenagers. The key image of the last year is a dead teenager. Well, this movie is filled with teenagers -- dead teenagers, but it's a good movie because it’s got style and it has ideas in it.” Here, Siskel chimed in, saying, “It isn’t the material, it’s about how you treat the material.”

Of course Ebert knew Daalder through Russ Meyer. And the two had collaborated on Who Killed Bambi, the doomed biopic on The Sex Pistols that fell apart after the band broke up in ‘78 -- though parts of it would survive in The Great Rock ‘n’ Roll Swindle (1980). The scene where Sid Vicious does his cover of “My Way” and winds up shooting his audience was conceived by Daalder.

Regardless, it was too little too late and Massacre at Central High was sold off to television and home video by 1981. Lange later admitted to Peary that while he liked the picture Daalder gave him, he also felt that the violence wasn’t nearly as strong as he wanted. That, plus the intellectual nature of the film, is what Lange thought was responsible for the picture failing to make back its costs. Said Lange (Peary, 1983), “Cult Films don’t make money.”

Now, the one thing I think we can all agree on is how well the cast of Massacre at Central High sold what Daalder was hard-peddling.

Mark Hamill in The City (1977).

For the pivotal role of David, both Jan-Michael Vincent and Mark Hamill were under consideration. Before he did Star Wars (1977), and long before he started voicing the Joker in Batman the Animated Series (1992), Hamill played a pretty great psycho in The City (1977), a made for TV movie, where he portrayed a spree killer hunted by a pair of cops (Robert Forster and Don Johnson) as he tries to hunt down his deadbeat dad (Jimmy Dean), so that might’ve been an interesting take.

But Derrel Maury was the film’s best asset. As a kid, Maury appeared in commercials for Kellogg's Corn Flakes and Marx Toys. His first feature was a bit part in The Strongest Man in the World (1975), the last of Kurt Russell’s Dexter Reilly movies for Walt Disney. His second would be Massacre at Central High and Maury is perfect as the brooding David.

There is a rage roiling within his character that he can barely keep contained; and when it breaks open and blows, pray you're nowhere near him. I appreciated how Maury’s jaw was constantly working over his ever present wad of gum, like Tyrone Power in Nightmare Alley (1947). I’ve always contended Power’s own wad of gum deserved at least a nomination for Best Supporting Actor that year. Cast against type, Power was amazing in that film, as was Maury in his.

Originally, Maury auditioned for the role of Rodney. “Rodney was a bit nerdy. Born on a farm. Loves Chickens. So I read for the role and thought I could make him kind of fun,” said Maury in an interview with The Terror Trap (May, 2011). “Sort of the guy you feel sorry for because he's such a loser.”

But Daalder, to his credit, saw something and swapped roles, giving Maury the lead -- much to the film’s betterment. “It reminded me a bit of Lord of the Flies,” said Maury. “Here you've got these kids that are being repressed and when their oppressors are taken out, they start, one by one, filling their empty shoes, assuming the same human characteristics while jockeying for new social positions.”

As for working with Daalder, “We got along great,” said Maury.“He and I just clicked. We hit it off and I loved being around him. He’s a brilliant guy. He used to be a music producer back in Holland. He just had this great, great sense of intelligence, direction, humor. He was a really well-rounded guy. I ended up practically living with him and his wife Bianca. They rented a house up in the Hollywood Hills and I went there every single day and night.”

This should’ve been a breakout role for Maury but it wasn’t meant to be as the film fizzled, and his career after seemed to be relegated to guest spots on episodic television -- he had recurring roles on One Day at a Time (1976-1978) and Joanie Loves Cha-Chi (1982-1983). He was more comfortable doing comedy but always felt an affinity toward David. 

Said Maury, “David doesn’t really ask a lot of questions. He sees someone in trouble and he just jumps in and gives them a hand.”

Andrew Stevens was probably the most recognizable name and face in the cast. He would star in Vigilante Force (1976) that same year, and then Day of the Animals (1977) and the criminally underrated Vietnam war film The Boys in Company C (1978) -- although I always hold a soft spot for The Werewolf of Woodstock (1975), which is offset by my absolute hatred of The Seduction (1982), where Stevens stalks Morgan Fairchild, one of the worst films I have ever endured. 

Stevens had met Brian de Palma during the joint open cattle call for Star Wars (1977) and Carrie (1976). At the time, and to his regret, he found George Lucas underwhelming and couldn’t wrap his head around that galaxy far, far away and was more disappointed from getting shut out of the horror film. 

But de Palma remembered the young actor and cast him in The Fury (1978), where he officially broke out as another teen with psychic powers. But Stevens’ career kinda stalled out in softcore sleaze by the 1990s with things like Night Eyes (1990) and Illicit Dreams (1994) as he shifted from acting to producing.

“I'd never met Andrew before,” said Maury. “I was a big fan of his mother's. Who could ever forget Stella Stevens in Jerry Lewis's The Nutty Professor (1963), right? Gorgeous. So was Andrew. He had this kind of Rod Taylor thing. He had that rugged, raw look to him. He was basically a bit of a nerd, but he had that look.”

One of Kimberly Beck’s first screen roles was a small part in Alfred Hitchcock’s Marnie (1964), and she played one of the eighteen children in the combined marriage of Henry Fonda and Lucile Ball in Yours, Mine and Ours (1968).

After playing Teresa in Massacre at Central High, Beck would land a plum role in the TV mini-series Rich Man, Poor Man: Book II (1977), the sequel to the critically acclaimed and highly successful Rich Man, Poor Man (1976). Theatrically, she would appear in Roller Boogie (1979), but is probably best remembered as Final Girl Trish in Friday the 13th: The Final Chapter (1984).

“I remember Kimberly calling me before she accepted the role and asking my opinion,” said Maury. “She knew they were asking her to do some soft nudity in the film and she had never done anything like that before. I definitely could understand any actress questioning that kind of thing. Especially back then. I remember talking to her about that and telling her that whatever she decided to do, I would completely understand and respect -- but also that I really hoped she would be in the film!”

With his encouragement, Beck did take the role and Maury commented on how much fun they had working together. “She had a beautiful smile and just that All-American Girl look. I think she was the Maybelline girl at the time. She was a knockout,” said Maury. 

And, “Kimberly had a wonderful attitude the whole shoot. She was a real trouper and played Theresa perfectly. She made it very easy for David -- okay, for me to fall in love with her.”

Beck would also star in the pilot for Eight is Enough (1977-1981) with co-star Lani O’Grady, who played Jane in Massacre at Central High. But when it went to series, O’Grady stuck around as Mary Bradford while Beck was replaced by Diane Kay as Nancy Bradford. O’Grady and Maury had been friends long before shooting the film. And O’Grady, Maury and Beck all shared the same agent: Mary O’Grady, Lani’s mother.

“We were like brother and sister,” said Maury. “We'd known each other for years. Lani was kind of kooky and crazy even back then. Just this wild free spirit. Really fun. She always had a smile. She always looked like she had some secret going on. She was a very sweet and playful girl. I had a ball with Lani on and off camera.”

Sadly, O’Grady suffered through some undiagnosed mental health issues until she was 21. And to fight these constant panic attacks she became addicted to prescription drugs and was in and out of rehab until her death in 2001 due to an overdose of painkillers, which the coroner could not determine as an accidental death or suicide.

As for Jane’s best friend Mary, we have Cheryl "Rainbeaux" Smith. By the filming of Massacre at Central High, Rainbeux Smith was a genre veteran, having appeared in Jonathan Demme’s Caged Heat (1974), Jack Hill’s The Swinging Cheerleaders (1974) and, sticking with the theme, she also bared all in Revenge of the Cheerleaders (1976) and The Pom Pom Girls (1976). And she would later appear as the title character in Michael Pataki’s X-Rated version of Cinderella (1977).

In between all of that there were appearances in more legit fare like Farewell, My Lovely (1975) and Logan’s Run (1976), and Smith was quite exceptional in her role as the plantation owner’s spoiled southern belle brat of a daughter in Drum (1976).

Along with Stevens, Robert Carradine was another recognizable name and a genre vet, who initially auditioned for the role of David but wound up playing Spoony instead. One of his first acting roles was opposite John Wayne in The Cowboys (1972), and Carradine had already co-starred with Smith in Revenge of the Cheerleaders and The Pom Pom Girls, as well as appearing in a couple of Roger Corman pictures with Jackson County Jail (1976) and Cannonball (1976). And if you’ve never seen it, I highly recommend his early efforts in Joyride (1977).

Now, Carradine must have really gotten into his stoner character, too, because according to Lange (Peary, 1983), the actor couldn’t really recall the four or five days he spent filming Massacre at Central High. After, he landed roles in Sam Fuller’s World War II epic The Big Red One (1980), co-starring Hamill, and then went on to infamy as Lewis Skolnick in Revenge of the Nerds (1984).

There isn’t a whole lot to say about Ray Underwood, Steve Bond or Damon Douglas. They’re fine as the Elite, but the roles are kind of one note and they’re basically interchangeable. No. Wait. That’s not really fair, as Underwood's Bruce is an absolute apex example of the banality of evil, but if this was by design or accident is undetermined.

The freaks fare better, with Rex Sykes, who kinda looks like a lost Mitchum sibling as Rodney; Jeffrey Winner, who put on thirty pounds for the role of Oscar (-- and I love how he weaponizes his flab when he starts bullying the others); and Tom Logan as the weasel Harvey; but the real standout was Dennis Kort as the pragmatic and too logical for his own good Arthur.

As to why Daalder decided to limit his characters to just teenagers, “I don’t know if it wasn’t in the budget or a subtextual / societal statement,” said Stevens (Synapse, 2020). Apparently, it was a little of both.

In an interview with Michael Gingold (Synapse, 2020), Daalder finally revealed that during the scripting process, he felt any scenarios involving a teacher in his high school drama had been done already and would come off as too cliche. He then hit upon the notion to not have any adults in the film at all until the very end of the picture.

And as he developed the script, he also made a unique decision to have his killer not use a gun or knife but gravity as his modus operandi -- a hang glider falls out of the sky, a swimmer dives into an empty pool, a car goes over a cliff, which is then abandoned for explosives to emphasize the chaos of the counter-revolution.

According to the cast it was a fun and fairly loose shoot. “Whenever they said cut, it was just a party,” was one of the few things Carradine clearly recalled (Synapse, 2020).

“Daalder knew what he wanted, but was open to suggestions,” said Winner (Synapse, 2020). And in his efforts to keep it real, the director had a repeated mantra for his actors during the entire shoot: “No phony-baloney Hollywood bullshit.”

As for the script, Maury admitted Daalder’s dialogue was “unique, but stilted.” Sikes, meanwhile, found the dialogue rather cheesy, and recalled he and Maury improvising a lot and how his script showed penciled in rewrites. But through Daalder’s insistence, they pretty much wound up adhering to his script.

“It was radically different, complex in concept, and not realistic in any way, shape or form,” said Stevens (Synapse, 2020). “He was Dutch. And Daalder always had a beer in one hand and a cigarette in the other -- maybe that’s how they do it over there.” And while he found Daalder to be charismatic and enthusiastic, by the end of the shooting day, claimed Stevens, the director would be a little tipsy, much to the consternation and frustration of the overtaxed crew.

But Maury remembered it differently. “On set, Daalder was extremely professional. He always knew what he wanted, and had a great way of explaining either an emotion or a shot that was being set up.”

Maury would wind up wearing many hats on the production, including casting agent and stunt coordinator. When he first went in to read for the role of Rodney, Maury could see Daalder was stressed out. “He said he had to cast 13 principal roles in less than four days.” When the actor offered to help, Daalder let him read the whole script and suggest any actors who might fit the bill. And it was these efforts that got Maury the lead role.

“He asked me if I knew what a mensch was,” said Maury (Synapse, 2020). “I did: a doer of good deeds. And that's exactly what David was.” When Daalder called with the good news, Maury at first couldn’t remember which character David was, panicked, and then hung up on the director when he realized he’d just landed the lead in a motion picture.

As for serving as the film’s stunt coordinator, “I went to stunt school when I was a kid because my brothers and I used to fight all the time, and my dad thought we would kill each other,” said Maury (Terror Trap, 2011). Later interviews said it was the stunt school run by Paul Stader, who had doubled for Johnny Weissmuller, Robert Mitchum and John Wayne in his long and storied career.

“So my dad put us in this stunt school in Santa Monica. I went there from the time I was about eleven until I was seventeen or eighteen," said Maury. "I had the best time learning fight techniques, how to take a fall, and safety with these really rowdy guys -- big wrestlers and karate guys and professional stuntmen.”

And so, when it came time to stage the fight scenes in Massacre at Central High, Daalder turned it over to Maury. “I got to kind of direct that little stunt fight with me, Ray Underwood and Steve Bond. It was exciting for me because I had been doing stunts for a long time and now had the chance to create one for our film.”

Despite the lack of money and rushed shooting schedule, Maury insisted that no one ever really complained. “I think the crew was a little put off because they were working their butts off,” said Maury (Terror Trap, 2011). “When you’re doing an independent film, you’ve got such a little budget and you’ve got so much to do in such a short period of time. Daalder worked everybody pretty hard, but he worked harder than anyone else. Rene was burning the candle at both ends.”

This off-screen camaraderie added a lot of chemistry on screen, too. “Robert always hung around the girls, and the girls always wanted to hang around Andrew,” said Maury.

Again, I loved how Smith and O’Grady fought like hell during their sexual assault, and weren’t afraid to pitch in once the tide turned, both punching and kicking Craig in the balls repeatedly. And the chemistry between Stevens and Beck, and Beck and Maury, just crackles.

There were a few mishaps on set. Stevens accidentally broke Sykes’ nose in a crowd scene, which they then tried to cover over the resultant bruising in makeup with a … modicum of success. It’s pretty easy to spot the dummies in the back of Rodney’s car, and the crew and boom mic can be seen reflected off the B-Vod in a few scenes. There were also plenty of tales of how all those explosions got slightly out of hand.

On the first attempt at shooting Oscar’s locker blowing up, FX coordinator Roger George took all morning as he readied the black powder charge and the stuntman was rigged with a harness and wire to be yanked away to simulate the blast wave. But when the director called action, the effect fizzled like a defective roman candle as the stuntman was comically yoinked out of frame.

After a proper scolding from Daalder, George promised the next one, hastily assembled in less than ten minutes, would be better -- and bigger, apparently, as the resulting detonation produced so much smoke you could no longer even see the stuntman. Or the lockers. Or the hallway.

The majority of the hang gliding sequences were done by suspending the actors from a crane. And the wrecking of the van was a oner, as they only had one take because they only had one van -- which got a little harrowing as it careened backwards down Decca Canyon along that guard rail. And George was at it again for the final explosion, whose enormous fireball ignited a nearby tree, much to the shock and horror of the school’s administrator.

“The production value was pretty short,” said Maury (Terror Trap, 2011). “I think Rene only had dollar-fifty to make this movie. But the structure of the telling of the story was so unique, so different and fun. It made it stand out amongst a lot of other films. It’s fantastic.”

Alas, these efforts would go unseen, and championed by only a select few, for nearly 40 years.

Now, from what I could gather from all the interviews, while they never really saw eye to eye, the only real hiccup between Daalder, Lange and financier Sobel during the production of Massacre at Central High was in post-production over the film’s score.

According to that Maury interview with The Terror Trap, Daalder had written an original “haunting” score for the film -- or at least wrote something he dubbed “David’s Theme” that would be used as a uniting motif throughout the film

“It was an interesting, intricate kind of jazzy New Wave thing,” said Maury (Terror Trap, 2016), but it was never used in the film. “One of the producers wouldn’t let him use his music because he didn’t have charts. Rene wasn’t able to produce sheet music -- any written notes on a piece of paper. So the producer said, ‘We’re not using your music. We’re not paying you for it.’”

Oddly enough, Kimberly Beck's stepfather, Tommy Leonetti, was brought in to do the score. Leonetti was a crooner and an actor, most notably a recurring role on Gomer Pyle: USMC (1964-1969). He co-wrote the film’s title song “Here at the Crossroads of Your Life” with Jill Williams, and Leonetti provided the vocals.

Both Daalder and Maury hated the new soundtrack. Said Maury, “Those who never heard the original music that Rene created probably enjoyed what was in the film.” But! “It came out in sort of a Mod Squad kind of style. I never liked it because I had heard the original [first]. It would have given that film a whole different feel.”

Here, I will side with Maury, even though I’ve never heard Daalder’s version. But I have heard Leonetti’s several times now and the Engelbert Humperdinck elevator muzak vibe doesn’t fit the film at all. It felt almost over-scored at points, and too on the nose with the lyrics. In contrast, Maury said with Daalder’s score, you weren't told but, “You were feeling what was in David's soul through that music and he was frustrated when it wasn't used.”

Daalder also didn’t have final cut on the picture. And with all the post-production dickering, on top of taking the brunt of the blame for its box-office failures, for the next few decades, Daalder would distance himself from Massacre at Central High, believing the film had been taken away from him and ruined before its theatrical release. But he did warm back up to it gradually, and would embrace the film in the last few years of his life.

In 2020, Synapse Films finally released a fully restored version of Massacre at Central High on Blu-ray. This restoration was overseen by Daalder, who sadly passed away in 2019 before it was released. The film looks fantastic, and they make a strong case for its Cult Film status in the copious supplemental materials. (Maury mentioned a possible commentary track with Daalder to Gingold for an upcoming release, but it never happened.)

Now, I think a lot of the credit for how well Massacre at Central High looks needs to go to Bertram van Munster. A fellow Dutchman hired by Daalder, van Munster was someone else whose career should’ve been launched by this film as his efforts at framing and lighting and multi-layered compositions, resulting in an over-saturated, dreamlike world of colors, gives Massacre at Central High some much needed juice.

The film would also achieve a theatrical release around the globe under many, well, offbeat banners. It played in the UK as Blackboard Massacre; in France it was either Terreur à l'école (Terror at School) or Les baskets se déchaînent (Sneakers Go Wild!); in Turkey you went to see Sınıfta fırtına (Storm in the Classroom); meanwhile, the marquee in Germany read Massaker in Klasse 13 (Massacre in Class 13); in Portugal it was released as Blue Jeans: Parte II, which makes you wonder what happened in Blue Jeans: Parte I; and in Daalder’s native Holland it ran under De killer van Central High (The Killer from Central High).

But the most notorious release came in Italy, where it first ran theatrically under the title Massacro al Collegio Centrale (The Central College Massacre); but when it was released on home video by Realvision as Sexy Jeans, hardcore inserts were added into the film whenever a sex scene takes place, including the school classroom rape and the beach scene between Theresa and David. There was already a rather explicit sex scene between Teresa and Mark as they engage in some mourning sex after Bruce’s death, and the canyon sequence with Spoony, Mary and Jane engaged in a three-way right before they get flattened. 

Said Maury (Gingold, 2016), “My brother sent me a copy of that. Who knew I could speak fluent Italian and, man, I never knew I was that well hung.”

Also of note, when you cut out all the swearing and the legit nudity, Massacre at Central High comes off as an ABC After School Special or a locally produced collegiate educational video that got picked up by PBS and went national. Thus, when you put the swearing and the nudity back in, it comes off as a Showtime After Dark School Special. And while I freely admit the film definitely works better unfiltered and unadulterated, I still have plenty of issues with it -- and a lot of questions over Daalder’s intent.

In the wake of Columbine and the too many to count mass school shootings that followed, it’s even harder to parse Daalder’s take on social dynamics and the violent reactions to it, or to see David as the hero of the piece -- even as an anti-hero.

Given the political allegory angle, it’s not that difficult to separate David from those other narcissistic shit-heads who go on a killing spree but the question still needs to be asked: was David actually interested in social change or just blowing shit up -- especially when we get to the stages of his Stalin-esque purges after winning the revolution with the demise of the Elite.

But I’m not sure if Daalder was actually looking for any answers, and instead was just an agent provocateur, poking the beehive with a stick to show you what happens when you poke a beehive with a stick. (Magic 8-Balls says, "OF COURSE YOU’RE GONNA GET STUNG, YOU PRETENTIOUS MORON!")

Said Peary (1983), “Perhaps David should have held back on his revolution until the students had been politically educated [or delayed] until there had been established a more solid alliance among the various factions. Or perhaps he should have left the revolution up to the students, when they were ready to participate.”

But even an exasperated Peary would have to throw his hands up in the air and surrender when we reach the film’s third act, where “Daalder’s intentions can only be guessed at.”

I think it was George Orwell by way of Leon Trotsky who said that all revolutions were doomed to failure. For no matter how good the intentions were, once the seat of power was overthrown, the revolutionaries will unravel; and in most cases, become worse than those who came before them. You could’ve asked Trotsky to confirm this back in the day, but he was assassinated by his former comrades after their revolution was over.

And that is the general premise of Massacre at Central High. But as a political allegory it can't quite decide where it stands or what it stands against. The pendulum swings all the way from the far right to the far left, throwing punches at everything in between. It's anti-fascist for the first hour or so, and then goes anti-socialist for the last part.

One second it's railing against Bruce and his horde, and then it's telling you things might’ve been better while they were in charge. Is the status quo good? Is change good? What?!? Which is it? Make up your damn mind, movie!

Every class and social strata are present and accounted for but Daalder tells us that none of them are worth a shit when power and responsibility is at stake. Even more damning is that with all the evidence presented, the only good and peaceful times to be had appears to be during the brief transitions between the bloody coups. There is a fine line between utopia and dystopia, I guess. And all we are left with is the argument. Was that the point all along?

Like the French, the Dutch came down hard on German collaborators when the World War II ended. The men were usually shot or imprisoned while the women who fraternized with the enemy, known as Moffenmeidens (Kraut girls), were abused and humiliated in public, usually by having their heads shaved clean and their bodies painted orange.

Could / Should Teresa be considered a collaborator? She admits to using Mark as a shield to protect her from the predatory Elite. Now, she does use this same status in her efforts to save Mary and Jane from being violently molested. But that very same status of belonging to Mark, one of them, sees Teresa safely escorted from the classroom, leaving Mary and Jane to their fate.

And later, after Bruce and the others have been killed, and the other students start going after Mark, the last man standing, Jane turns on Teresa, slapping her and calling her nothing more than Mark’s concubine. And all the while, Teresa starts falling for David when the winds of change hit Central High, hitching her wagon to the new Alpha Dog perhaps? Perhaps.

I suppose, like the toadish and sycophantic Harvey, one could argue that Mark was merely a collaborator, too. While technically a member of the Elite, he doesn’t really fit. Mark always bows out when things get too rough because he doesn’t have the stomach for it and tends to freeze up. He’s also used by Bruce to recruit other regulars to their cause. A traitor to his people.

That may all sound kind of harsh but I'm still not sure where I stand on the film. I can look past the revenge and body count plot and easily see what Daalder was trying to convey in the film but, to me, it comes off as rather obtuse. I mean, to wit, Let's make a political and social statement that the kids can relate to by having them all kill each other off after the revolution finally comes? Sure..?

As Peary struggled to nail down Daalder’s elusive idiom, he concluded, “One must fight oppression whether it comes from the extreme right -- Nazis, the Czar and [the Elite] -- or the extreme left -- Communists, terrorists, and David. Only at the end, when Mark and Teresa break out of their bonds of neutrality and put themselves on the line for what they know is right, does David have his faith in humanity restored. He dies, but knowing he can allow the world (the school) to exist because brave humanists are its watch-guards, he dies happy. His mission to politicize Mark and Teresa, to make them activists, has been accomplished.”

It’s a valiant effort and a pretty good guess, too. I do agree that the whole crux of the movie was to somehow get Mark and Teresa to do something -- anything! Only when they finally do take a stand against David, at the end, and a passive stance at that -- they literally choose to do nothing, does the chaos end. 

But! After everything Daalder has presented leading up to this point, how can we believe things are going to be better under this new regime? Simple. We can’t. 

This is a little too nihilistic, even for me.

I don’t know, maybe Maury summed it up best (Terror Trap, 2016): “Look, everybody is in the same boat. Each and every one of us. We're all f@cked. We're all gonna die. It makes no sense with the little time we have on this earth to live with a short, selfish fuse. That's certainly where I see the moral of the story. Don't turn your back on your fellow man in the face of adversity even if it means you might get hurt.”

Works for me.

Still, even with the clarification, I’d call Daalder's little social experiment an interesting misfire. Which is why I also feel that it's my civic duty to curb some of the enthusiasm surrounding this Cult Film’s reputation. I've always professed that expectation is a harsh mistress seldom satisfied. Massacre at Central High deserves credit for being different, and putting a new twist on an old formula, but don't expect too much else.

And though I still have complaints and reservations about it and its conjectures and conclusions, I'll still encourage people to see it, despite these inherent flaws. I can't say I loved Massacre at Central High, but I can definitely respect it for what it tried to do. I just don’t think it succeeded.

Originally posted on February 8, 2003, at 3B Theater. 

Massacre at Central High (1976) Evan Productions :: Brian Distributing / EP: Jerome Bauman / P: Harold Sobel / D: Rene Daalder / W: Rene Daalder / C: Bertram van Munster / E: Harry Keramidas / M: Tommy Leonetti / S: Derrel Maury, Kimberly Beck, Andrew Stevens, Robert Carradine, Ray Underwood, Steve Bond, Damon Douglas, Lani O'Grady, Cheryl Smith, Rex Steven Sikes, Dennis Kort, Jeffrey Winner, Tom Logan