Slashdance is one of a handful of 80s horror movies to use the then popular aerobics/dance/workout craze to try and wring a few last drops of blood from the dying slasher sub-genre (others include Aerobicide, Death Spa, Murder Rock, and Stage Fright). It seems like an obvious ploy, the inevitable bevy of beautiful women shaking their booty providing both gratuitous T&A and plenty of potential victims ripe for slaughter, but somehow Slashdance manages to make a complete mess of matters, its prolonged dance scenes only serving to make what is already a very boring horror film even more tedious.
Cindy Maranne stars as attractive but tough cop Tori Raines, who works undercover as a dancer in an old theatre in order catch the maniac responsible bumping off girls auditioning for a musical. What we get here is a couple of virtually gore-free death scenes, but tons of embarrassingly bad dance routines from the attractive but untalented hoofers, most of whom would make a drunken granny at a wedding look like Ginger Rogers. To make matters worse, writer/director James Shyman opts for a semi-comedic approach that is truly cringe-worthy, with comical characters including two fat female steroid pushers (played by wrestler Queen Kong and Kelle Favara), perverted stage manager Rupert (John Bluto), and retarded prime suspect Amos (Joel Von Ornsteiner).
As if the whole film wasn't padded out enough with interminable scenes of the dancers practising their pathetic moves ("1, 2, 3, and kick, 5, 6, 7, and knee" ad nauseum), Shyman also adds numerous shots of Los Angeles hot-spots, making parts of his film feel like they were made for the L.A. tourist board. All that time wasted watching random people walking and driving up and down Hollywood streets and there's not even one gratuitous shower scene from the sexy showgirls. For shame!
Cindy Maranne stars as attractive but tough cop Tori Raines, who works undercover as a dancer in an old theatre in order catch the maniac responsible bumping off girls auditioning for a musical. What we get here is a couple of virtually gore-free death scenes, but tons of embarrassingly bad dance routines from the attractive but untalented hoofers, most of whom would make a drunken granny at a wedding look like Ginger Rogers. To make matters worse, writer/director James Shyman opts for a semi-comedic approach that is truly cringe-worthy, with comical characters including two fat female steroid pushers (played by wrestler Queen Kong and Kelle Favara), perverted stage manager Rupert (John Bluto), and retarded prime suspect Amos (Joel Von Ornsteiner).
As if the whole film wasn't padded out enough with interminable scenes of the dancers practising their pathetic moves ("1, 2, 3, and kick, 5, 6, 7, and knee" ad nauseum), Shyman also adds numerous shots of Los Angeles hot-spots, making parts of his film feel like they were made for the L.A. tourist board. All that time wasted watching random people walking and driving up and down Hollywood streets and there's not even one gratuitous shower scene from the sexy showgirls. For shame!
