Return to Horror High (1987) – Meta-Slasher With Blunt Instruments but No Bite
Crippen High lays dormant after a horrific massacre in the early 1980s. In the late ’80s, a self-aware film crew returns to shoot a horror flick titled Return to Horror High within the very halls stained by past blood. Bill Froehlich directs from a script by Froehlich, Mark Lisson, and Dana Escalante. The cast includes Lori Lethin, Brendan Hughes, Alex Rocco—and surprisingly, Maureen McCormick and a punchable-faced George Clooney in supporting cameos. With the bones of a clever horror satire named but none of the bite, this film gets lost in its own cynicism and incompetence.
A Promising Concept That Never Blossoms
Watching Crippen High transformed into a movie set brimming with crew members, cameras, and diva actors, you can sense the opportunity for satire and suspense. A killer could lurk among the lighting rigs—or sabotage the boom mic. But Froehlich never capitalizes. The film fails to let the setting—both haunted location and film set—play off each other. Instead, it becomes an aimless parade of angry crew, forgotten horror tropes, and meandering dialogue. A great premise, left to die.
Tone-deaf Execution: Flailing Between Comedy and Horror
The film wants to lampoon horror clichés and creep you out—but lands in a no man’s land of kitsch. Cast members crack jokes about cheesy prosthetics and classic final girls—but the jokes aren’t funny, and we don’t care who survives. The horror sections are equally awkward: kills are abrupt, unforeshadowed, or so badly lit you can’t see them. The result is neither clever nor scary, but limp and aimless—a film that tries to entertain with no plan.
Casting Misfires: Familiar Faces, Strange Energy
Lori Lethin (Amy Flippen):
As the lead actress, she overplays her shock reactions until we barely notice them. Fear is hollow on her face.
Brendan Hughes (Dan Jordan):
The moody director, but there’s no passion—just hollow ambition. Dan rarely directs anything except the camera’s attention away from more charismatic characters.
Alex Rocco (Martin Nichols):
His gruff cynicism is the most memorable performance, but even he’s shrunk to a single-note caricature.
Maureen McCormick (Maureen)
Her cameo as a former teen idol turned actress on-set—intended to provoke nostalgic wink—lands as a dusty relic. She’s meant to offer insider commentary, but feels shoehorned and underutilized.
George Clooney (George)
Yes, even in this early role, his punchable face steals attention for all the wrong reasons. Clooney looks like he wishes he were somewhere else, but worse, we wish he was too.
The cameos have potential for metacommentary—but nobody leans in. Instead, there’s only confusion.
Flat Kill Scenes and a Faceless Killer
Where’s the dread in the Crippen hallways? Where’s the menace in that mask? The killer doesn’t scare or surprise—they just stab and slink away. Squeeky doors echo in empty halls. Cuts offer no context. No unbroken take of tension. They replace atmosphere with sloppy quick cuts, offering gore without impact. The killer lacks motive, identity, or force as a character. Forgettable at best.
Plot Rambling and Self-Indulgent Setup
The script overdoses on filler: endless arguments about shot angles, props, and actress vanity. Meanwhile, a handful of random deaths happen somewhere behind the camera. At one moment, Maureen is joking; in the next, she screams—and the film doesn’t bother to fully integrate the tonal switches. The meta-premise evaporates in a haze of bloated exposition, missed reveals, and unmotivated chaos.
Technical Tumble: Cinematography and Editing in Decay
The director of photography seems unaware of horror aesthetics: there’s no strategic lighting, no fog-laced corridors. Editing is worse—lines cut mid-sentence, scene agreements crumble to technical blur. Sound design doubles down on bad. Drops in audio volume, crackling dialogue, mismatched music cues—listen to any scene and the bottom falls out.
Meta Commentary Crumbles Under Weak Delivery
It tries referencing genre staples: “Movie killers always die at the end,” says a character. Great. But when it tries to poke comedic fun at that trope, it reverts to the same trope without irony. The set becomes a stage for lazy reflection, not meaningful critique—a disappointed whisper rather than a scream.
Midpoint Drag: No Blood, No Brains, No Guarantees
A true meta-slasher should pull you in deeper as the plot twists on itself. Instead, this one veers into backstage drivel—conflicted extras, petty romance, and misplaced dance numbers. The Canadians among the crew grunt about strike demands. Tension deflates. Silence swells. And when something does happen—an extra is stabbed in the trunk of a car—the editing is so abrupt I missed it and had to rewind. Less tension; more annoyance.
No Catharsis: A Final Act That Feels Skipped
The climax is a rushed couple pinned in a pretty set piece—what could’ve been a dramatic chase ends in nonsense: the killer is blinded briefly, no reveal, fleeting scream, and then… credits? No payoff. No final twist. The files never wrap up the Crippen murder mystery. The meta-commentary never comes back. The serial killer subplot disappears like they never bothered informing the producers.
Pacing That Collapses into Confusion
It starts with pep stage: cameras, jokes, faux blood libation. Two days later, the mood has drained. Night falls, dawn rises, but nothing builds. It neither tanks in tension nor floats in comedy—it drifts in tonal limbo. Repeating the same “actor fights” and “crew yells about budget” beats frustrate even the most patient genre fans.
Legacy: Not Even a Cult Hit
While many bad slashers find nostalgia fame (The Burning, Slumber Party Massacre), Return to Horror High didn’t. It has zero midnight screening lore, no Reddit resurrection, no ironic celebration of its flaws. It was forgotten—or never remembered in the first place. George Clooney hasn’t revisited it. Maybe he should.
Final Verdict: 2/10 — Don’t Return to This Horror High
What Completely Fails:
-
Tone confusion: neither scary nor funny
-
Hollow characters with stale actors
-
Kills that are arbitrary and disembodied
-
Cameos wasted and underwritten
-
No pacing, no payoff, no final purpose
What Maybe Works (faint heart only):
-
Glimmers of Crippen High’s haunted ambiance
-
Alex Rocco’s occasional gravitas
-
Maureen McCormick as nostalgic eye candy
Ken with horror? Skip it. Meta-bad? Still skip it. For meta slashers done right, turn to Scream or Behind the Mask. This? It’s barely high school-grade.
🧟♂️ Then Who Might Watch It?
-
Horror fans who want to track Clooney’s pre-Batman and Robin lull.
-
Scholars studying the evolution of meta-horror in the ’80s.
-
Vector-drawing collectors of horror film flops—or those nostalgic for bad VHS tapes and dreamt analog film.
