SLASHDANCE (1989) Directed by James Shyman
Rentertainment VHS
THE FILM
The last time I watched an on-the-job training video, the laughs lasted for hours. How I miss those laughs.
When Killer Workout got a whiff of Slashdance's impending release, jealousy was in the air. The film thought, "Give me a break. I've got the song 'Animal Workout', peanut-butter-burn nudity, and a giant safety-pin -- I WROTE THE BOOK ON DANCE-SLASHING!" Then, Slashdance was released straight to video. It had a soundtrack culled from a Casio's demo songbank, no nudity, and 30 minutes of triplicate padding. Jealousy led to pity. Pity was replaced with disinterest. Today, Killer Workout is a bonafide sensation. As for Slashdance?
"Her tits are too nice to be a cop."
"Jesus Christ, I got beat up by a pair of tits!"
Oh boy. Slashdance combines the technical swelter of a McDonald's employee training tape with pubescent sex jokes, a Hollywood Boulevard travelogue, and women in neon leotards bending over. Aside from a brief intro and outro with a black-hooded killer, the slasher elements are missing. In layman's terms, this spells trouble. The plot goes nowhere. Lead character Tori has the permanent glazy-eyes. A "wacky" guy eats a live goldfish. Two fat chicks wrestle and sell steroids. There's a strange connection with G.L.O.W. (The Gorgeous Ladies Of Wrestling), but not B.L.O.W. (The Beautiful Ladies Of Oil Wrestling). All of this is funny for approximately 20 minutes. Did I just get beat up by a pair of tits?
With that shoo-in title, Slashdance should've knocked some socks off. Instead, the intentional buffoonery and tame pointlessness hit a stale midpoint between a practice episode of Strangers With Candy and the supreme Killer Workout. Yet, to compare this film to either of those comedic wizards is borderline offensive. There is no trash savvy of any kind on display in Slashdance. Only tit jokes, dick jokes, and a few mannequin appearances. What a dancin' shame.
Suddenly, I crave an Animal Workout.
AUDIO AND VIDEO
Was Slashdance shot on video (SOV), then transferred to film, ala Deadly Love? Only director James Shyman knows for sure. Given Hollywood's New Blood, Shyman's SOV exercise from 1988, that would appear to be the case. Cheap, dark, and ugly, the print presented here seeps with hiss and red tints. The contrast is nice and deep, though. Very exciting.
EXTRAS
"Filmed on location at Hollywood's Haunted Studios!" SWEET.
FINAL THOUGHTS
G.L.O.W. me. Slashdance tempts with its foolproof promises, but the actual experience hits the dumps. Some slash, some dance, and no jokes; that is the dance-slashing recipe for success. Slashdance fails on all counts. Dance Or Die, please don't let me down.
— Joseph A. Ziemba, 05.17.07 | 
H.O.T.S.
H.O.T.S. II
H.O.T.S. III
Fresh outta H.O.T.S.
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