Murder Rock [1983]

Since there's a part of my brain that reacts as if I was raised by drag queens, I desperately wanted to love "Murder Rock," Lucio Fulci's early-Eighties mash-up of the then-popular (and now-popular too, seeing as how shows like "America's Best Dance Crew" are into multiple seasons) genre of Dancesploitation ('sploiting the deepest desires of every adolescent girl to be a ballerina fairy princess, if not always a welder) and the perenially-resurrected form that is the Giallo. Well, dear readers, that sentence had more twists and turns than this unfortunately restrained thriller. This movie would've benefited enormously from the splattery and perhaps over-zealous effects work that characterize Fulci's zombie flicks, but instead we're given some melodrama and a series of murders commited with a hat pin. Yes, you read that correctly--this is a movie about murders in a group of promiscuous and frothingly competitive young dancers that manages to be--dare I say it--boring. The cast is certainly pretty enough and it's true that there are some inspired cinematographic moments, "Murder Rock" (aka "Slashdance"--what a TITLE!) is a dud.

The slip-ups in the making of this film are pretty egregious. The simmering cauldron of jealousy and lust at the dance school never capitalized upon. Let's repeat Rule One of exploitation: EXPLOIT SOMETHING, for heaven's sake! Lots of characters talk about sex, but aside from some making-out and a bit of soap-opera style enjoyment of the afterglow, there's no skin and relatively little nudity. While there's not much nekkidity, there are plentiful shots of bare bosoms--which is to say, "bare bosoms in the process of being pierced by a deadly needle." Which, for me, sort of detracts from the nipply glee.

Also--lemme just take a moment to note that these are some of the easiest-dyin' characters in cinema history! While I'm sure that medical science can clue me in to the existance of a magical Off Button that resides somewhere beneath the female breast, I'm thinking it would take a lot of practice and more than one straight-in stab with a pin to find it. I'm almost starting to think that the set square is a good murder weapon after all...

The Keith Emerson soundtrack is whacked-out beyond belief, somehow managing to be viciously repetitive without ever getting stuck in one's head (thankfully). There are strained, almost-off-key and certainly over-emphatic vocals that would make the Weather Girls start doling out umbrella beatings, featuring repeated cliches such as "Tonight is your night--YEAH!" I was yearning for the credits theme from "Faceless" by about eight minutes in. Deepening the criminality of the film is that there are several shot-on-location scenes in vintage New York City that are bland unto tears. This shame is doubly-deep, since the Fulcinator gave us that awesome shot of the masses of undead lumbering across the Brooklyn Bridge in "Zombie"--he can do great stuff with the NYC scenery, he just doesn't do it here.

Admittedly, some details are kind of cool--the young wheelchair-bound girl who witnesses one of the murders is a fine inheretrix to early-Seventies creepy ginger-kid Nicoletta Elmi. Honestly, I kinda of wanted to see her movie more than I wanted to see the one I was actually watching. Her obsession with photographic insects and learning the grisly details of their behavior was well-played and added some texture to the desperately-in-need-of-said film. Television screens and closed-circuit cameras appear throughout and provide some eerily voyeuristic touches, but all in all, the movie has the same literality as a Duran Duran video, but without the pleasing music.

However, if you're a person who likes lots of en-leotarded crotch shots, then this movie has plenty to offer. PLENTY. It's really an homage to the cameltoe. Perhaps the lack of gore was a bold choice, so as not to distract from the bevy of mooseknucklage on display here. It's like a Jane Fonda video, where those who fail to WORK IT with enough vigor are summarily disposed by a black-gloved killer. Which... come to think of it, is actually an awesome idea for a workout routine. I'd just be sure to pick better music.

Since I know there are Leotard Enthusiasts reading this right now, I'll toss you a sop for reading this far. Bask in the damp glow of this rather leeringly-lensed dance audition:

For more hott spandex action, check out the Flickr gallery of stills from "Murder Rock."