A big, camouflage wearing psycho killer is going around offing the girls in a high school cheerleading squad. It's up to the local Sheriff (Mark V. Jevicky) and a big shot detective (Carl Hetrick) to weed through the possible suspects. One recurring clue: this killer seems to have a thing for the purifying qualities of water.

At first glance, this would seem to be a VERY typical slasher, albeit one directed by the legendary Cemetery Zombie of "Night of the Living Dead", S. William Hinzman, and scripted by John A. Russo, based on his novel. There's zero suspense and zero scares, but Hinzman goes through the motions adequately, serving up lots of nudity and violence. Some of the actors are reasonably amiable, but the performances are, by and large, amateurish and dull. (Russ Streiner, a.k.a. Johnny in NotLD, appears here as a pontificating priest.) The trying-to-ape- John-Carpenter electronic score is good for some chuckles, to be sure.

Where this actually gets interesting is at the two thirds mark. Here, the killer gets revealed, and even if you've guessed their identity correctly, it's a hoot that the way that the plot thickens. Then the killer, due to their compromising position, is obliged to help a character from a subplot take care of their problem. (Reminding this viewer of the 1975 Giallo "The Killer Must Kill Again".) Things go bad for almost everybody, and eventually the story turns into a tried-and- true revenge saga! This finale comes complete with some nifty explosions and bloody squib action.

The final third of the picture may be a turn-off for some die hard slasher fans, but just speaking personally, it's what helped to make "The Majorettes" more than just run-of-the-mill for this viewer.

Seven out of 10.

Written and produced by John A. Russo, which he adapted from his own novel, this is yet another weird trip to Western Pennsylvania by the man who brought us the scripts for Night of the Living Dead and Midnight. Trust me, I live here, and I could tell instantly that this film emanated from my home base (Coraopolis and the Fox Chapel Yacht Club, in this case).

It's directed by Bill Hinzman, who was the first zombie that we see in Night of the Living Dead. He also made Flesheater, which is one of the absolute worst films I've ever seen, which really says something.

The astounding thing here is that this movie sets you up for a slasher where majorette squad members are getting offed one after the other, but then switches the plot numerous times to bring in police corruption, elder abuse, Satanic bikers and vigilante justice.

The end of this movie is pretty much as dark as it gets, but then again, this is also a movie that has someone who is not the slasher kills its final girl off nearly thirty minutes before the credits. You have to respect that level of disrespect for the more disrepsectful of all genres.

If you're an avid fan of George Romero's 'living dead' series then you might recognise the name Bill Hinzman: he played the graveyard zombie who attacked Barbara at the beginning of Night of the Living Dead. After several negligible roles in other Romero movies and assorted jobs behind the scenes, Hinzman decided to have a bash at directing, his first effort being this tawdry slasher/revenge flick based on a novel by John Russo (who also provided the screenplay).

Opening with a gloriously tacky opening credits scene showing a group of sexy, lycra wearing babes (most of whom look a bit too old to still be in high school) busting some moves, closely followed by a shower scene during which we see the pervy school janitor taking snapshots of the girls through a ventilation grille, the film certainly starts promisingly—heavy on the 80s cheeze and sleaze, it looks set to be a blast. Sadly, even though the gratuitous nudity continues throughout, and is accompanied by plenty of violence (but not much in the way of decent gore),the sense of fun soon wears off thanks to the truly awful performances (the girls certainly weren't hired for their acting ability),Russo's woeful script, and Hinzman's uninspired direction which only goes to prove that lurching around like a drooling ghoul in front of the camera is a darn sight easier than calling the shots behind it.

4.5 out of 10, generously rounded up to 5 for the silly-but-bloody OTT Peckinpah-style shootout at the end.