Charles Laughton directed once. Shame. So did Brando. Tragedy. Presumably Rospo Pallenberg, director of this tension-free Halloween rip-off, realised that he and talent were but distant pen pals and laid down the megaphone. Praise be!
The tale of a cheerleader caught between two would-be beaus, and incidentally being stalked by a ruthless serial killer (is there any other kind?) is the sort of thing that could work - if directed by Wes Craven and called something like, say, Scream. But in Pallenberg's hands, it just doesn't work. The only way that this is likely to enjoy a resurrgence is in clips on Before They Were Famous, for the appearance of a young Brad Pitt.