Some movies are “so bad they’re good.” Twisted (1985) isn’t one of them. It’s more like “so bad they make you reconsider whether cinema was a mistake.” Directed by Adam Holender, best known as the cinematographer for Midnight Cowboy—a film with genuine grit, artistry, and cultural resonance—Holender here trades all that in for a story about a Nazi-loving teenager tormenting a babysitter. If that sounds like a promising psychological horror setup, don’t worry: Twisted makes sure to suffocate every ounce of potential under clunky direction, laughable dialogue, and Christian Slater’s leather-jacket smirk.
This movie isn’t a thriller. It’s a hostage situation—for the audience.
The Setup: Babysitting From Hell
The Collins family needs a babysitter after their maid falls down the stairs and snaps her neck. (The poor woman dies so quickly she doesn’t even get a credit line beyond “corpse.”) In strolls Helen (Lois Smith), a sensible, good-hearted woman who should’ve just stuck with clipping coupons. She agrees to watch over sweet little Susan, blissfully unaware that Susan’s teenage brother Mark (Christian Slater) has hobbies that include science experiments, psychological torture, and cranking Third Reich marching anthems like they’re Top 40 radio hits.
This is Home Alone if Kevin McCallister grew up with a Hitler Youth Starter Pack.
Christian Slater’s Early Career: The Brat Before the Bat
Now, let’s give credit where it’s due: Christian Slater would later go on to shine in Heathers and Pump Up the Volume. He had charisma, a sharp delivery, and that trademark Nicholson-lite drawl. But in Twisted? He’s like a mall goth who found a Nazi helmet at a garage sale and decided that counted as “character development.”
Slater’s Mark Collins isn’t scary, he’s irritating. He pranks Helen with “electronic tricks” that look like RadioShack clearance items duct-taped to a wall. He blares military anthems loud enough to make you want to file a noise complaint with your own television. And when the movie tries to pivot from bratty nuisance to murderous psychopath, it feels like a kid playing dress-up with daddy’s war memorabilia.
The climactic scene, where he falls on his own spiked German helmet, is meant to be poetic justice. Instead, it plays like a Looney Tunes gag directed by Leni Riefenstahl.
Lois Smith: Bless This Woman’s Patience
Poor Lois Smith. A talented actress who later appeared in Minority Report and Lady Bird, she spends most of Twistedlooking like she wandered into the wrong rehearsal and stayed out of politeness. As Helen, she endures Slater’s antics with the patience of a woman silently calculating her babysitting rate by the hour. She plays it straight, even when forced to deliver lines so wooden they could double as kindling.
By the time she knocks Mark onto his spiked helmet, you don’t cheer out of catharsis—you cheer because the ordeal is almost over.
Nazis, Science Projects, and Dead Jocks
Somehow, the film manages to juggle several threads without resolving any of them. There’s the Nazi fetishism. There’s the electronics wizard angle. There’s the bullying subplot with Williams, the high school jock who barges into the Collins’ house for revenge. Williams ends up skewered by a fencing sword like a human shish kebab. And then the movie just shrugs and says, “Well, guess that’s dinner sorted.”
The tone is schizophrenic. One moment it’s trying for a Hitchcockian suspense vibe, the next it’s a suburban melodrama, and then suddenly it’s a morality tale about parental neglect. What it never manages to be is coherent.
The Parents: Blind, Bland, and Willfully Dumb
Let’s talk about the Collins parents, played by Dan Ziskie and Tandy Cronyn. These two redefine “oblivious.” Their son is goose-stepping around the house with a Nazi playlist, rigging up electroshock experiments, and stockpiling weapons. Their response? “He’s just a bit high-strung.”
When they finally return to find the house in shambles, Mom immediately tries to pin the chaos on Helen. Dad, on the other hand, goes full Stepford and offers Helen a ride home like nothing happened—even though he presumably saw his son’s corpse upstairs skewered on his own collectible war helmet. This family deserves their own sitcom: Everybody Loves Denial.
Susan Collins: The Cycle of Evil Continues
The movie’s parting twist is its crowning embarrassment. Little Susan, previously portrayed as innocent and sweet, dons Mark’s glasses, cranks up his Nazi marching music, and smiles as the cycle of madness continues.
It’s meant to be chilling. It’s not. It’s hilarious. The effect is like if The Sound of Music ended with Gretl joining the SS.
Production Values: From Play to Trash
Twisted is based on Jack Horrigan’s one-night-only Broadway flop Children! Children! That should’ve been a warning sign. Plays don’t always translate to film, especially when their biggest selling point is “kids are creepy.” The dialogue here feels stagey in the worst way—long stretches of characters talking at each other while the suspense evaporates like spilled beer.
The direction doesn’t help. Holender tries to mimic the style of psychological thrillers but lacks the timing or subtlety. Shots linger too long, tension fizzles, and the score sounds like someone’s nephew testing out their first Casio keyboard.
Themes: What Are We Even Doing Here?
What is Twisted about? The dangers of unchecked teenage rebellion? The seductive pull of fascist imagery? The thin line between intellect and psychopathy? None of the above. It’s about a babysitter trying to survive ninety minutes in the worst possible gig while the filmmakers throw every trope at the wall.
And yet, the movie has the audacity to act profound. It wants to be a cautionary tale about the cyclical nature of evil, but it plays more like a PSA warning parents to check their kids’ Spotify playlists.
The Humor of Watching This Trainwreck
Bad movies sometimes achieve accidental comedy. Twisted delivers a few gems. Mark’s death-by-helmet is so ridiculous you half-expect a cartoon “boing” sound effect. Helen’s straight-faced reactions to electronic pranks feel like she’s auditioning for America’s Funniest Home Videos: Nazi Edition. And the parents’ obliviousness is so complete it’s practically performance art.
Still, these moments are more accidental than intentional. The film doesn’t lean into its camp value; it just stumbles into it, face-first.
Final Thoughts: Babysit Literally Anyone Else
Twisted is a waste of a talented cast, a squandered premise, and an audience’s time. It wants to be a psychological thriller but ends up as a half-baked horror flick with Nazi cosplay. Christian Slater would go on to bigger and better things, but this performance belongs locked in a vault, preferably under a pile of broken VCRs.
If you’re morbidly curious, you can watch Twisted the same way you’d rubberneck at a car crash—shocked, horrified, but unable to look away. Otherwise, save yourself the headache. Babysit actual children instead. They may scream, puke, or set things on fire, but at least they won’t make you sit through ninety minutes of goose-stepping melodrama.
