Massacre at Central High is a movie title that conjures up images of Post-Halloween slasher shenanigans. However, after a couple minutes of muscles cars, bell bottoms, and blow-dried coifed hair you know you are smack dab in the middle of the 1970s.
This is a near-legendary movie, fervently sought after by collectors. Sure, there's been a shoddy copy on You Tube for a long time, but fans desire the real thing. Thankfully Synapse Films has brought their usual high standards of quality to their release of Massacre at Central High.
It's an odd film, one that has more depth than most low budget shockers of the day. People are quick to compare Massacre to Heathers, and I definitely see the resemblance, but I think the movie owes more to Robert Cormier's searing high school allegory, The Chocolate War.
I've seen complaints from people who ask where the adults are in Massacre at Central High. The story exists in a near-fantasy world of teen castes. The powerful rich kids dominate the losers, but the dynamic shifts when a new kid makes the scene. He is offered a place with the hierarchy, but has sympathy for the oppressed. Soon there are numerous deaths and when the junior fascists are deposed, nerd factions battle to take their place.
There's a strong Lord of the Flies influence in Massacre at Central High, but I don't wish to give the impression that it is a stuck-up art film. This is pure 70s exploitation, with a lot of teenage passion and some really inspired death sequences. A real drive-in extravaganza, which is where I saw the movie when it was briefly revived during the slasher phenomenon of the eighties.
Familiar faces like Andrew Stevens, Robert Carradine, and poor Rainbeaux Smith are in attendance. The whole production looks good, and obvious care was put into post-production editing.
Writer-director Rene Daalder should have had a bigger career after Massacre at Central High, but the movie kind of slipped through the cracks and never got the attention it deserves. I think it was too far ahead of its time.
Big applause to Synapse for bringing another near-forgotten gem to the hands of horror collectors. I only have two words for them now:
Blood. Beach.
Written by Mark Sieber
This is a near-legendary movie, fervently sought after by collectors. Sure, there's been a shoddy copy on You Tube for a long time, but fans desire the real thing. Thankfully Synapse Films has brought their usual high standards of quality to their release of Massacre at Central High.
It's an odd film, one that has more depth than most low budget shockers of the day. People are quick to compare Massacre to Heathers, and I definitely see the resemblance, but I think the movie owes more to Robert Cormier's searing high school allegory, The Chocolate War.
I've seen complaints from people who ask where the adults are in Massacre at Central High. The story exists in a near-fantasy world of teen castes. The powerful rich kids dominate the losers, but the dynamic shifts when a new kid makes the scene. He is offered a place with the hierarchy, but has sympathy for the oppressed. Soon there are numerous deaths and when the junior fascists are deposed, nerd factions battle to take their place.
There's a strong Lord of the Flies influence in Massacre at Central High, but I don't wish to give the impression that it is a stuck-up art film. This is pure 70s exploitation, with a lot of teenage passion and some really inspired death sequences. A real drive-in extravaganza, which is where I saw the movie when it was briefly revived during the slasher phenomenon of the eighties.
Familiar faces like Andrew Stevens, Robert Carradine, and poor Rainbeaux Smith are in attendance. The whole production looks good, and obvious care was put into post-production editing.
Writer-director Rene Daalder should have had a bigger career after Massacre at Central High, but the movie kind of slipped through the cracks and never got the attention it deserves. I think it was too far ahead of its time.
Big applause to Synapse for bringing another near-forgotten gem to the hands of horror collectors. I only have two words for them now:
Blood. Beach.
Written by Mark Sieber
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