There are bad movies, and then there are movies that feel like a dare. Sorority House Massacre II is the latter—a film that looks you dead in the eye, slaps a $2 wig on, tapes a butcher knife to the wall, and asks, “You scared yet?” The answer, of course, is no. But you are confused, mildly entertained, and deeply concerned for everyone involved, including yourself. Watching it is like being trapped in a haunted house run by people who keep yelling, “Boo!” while checking their own reflection.
Directed by Jim Wynorski—patron saint of cheap thrills, cheaper sets, and women who spend 78% of screen time in lingerie—this movie is a slasher, a parody, a sequel, a remake, and a fever dream. It reuses footage from other films, reuses plot twists from itself, and reuses the same basement set approximately six thousand times. Think of it as cinematic recycling, except the planet still loses.
**The Plot:
If You Summon Evil With a Ouija Board, At Least Ask for a Refund**
The plot, using the term generously, follows five sorority girls who buy a giant house for so little money that even Zillow would raise an eyebrow. Naturally, the house has a bloody history. Even more naturally, the girls respond to this by showering, wearing lace nighties, and summoning the ghost of the killer with a Ouija board.
I’ve seen toddlers make better decisions with unsupervised scissors.
The alleged villain, Hockstatter, murdered people five years earlier, which the neighbor Orville Ketchum recounts in a monologue that feels three days long. Orville looks like he escaped from a dinner theater production of Deliverance: The Musical, complete with sweat stains that could qualify as zip codes. He also gives the girls a key to the basement—because nothing says “Welcome to the neighborhood” like a trip to the murder dungeon.
Once the killings start, the plot dissolves faster than an Alka-Seltzer in hot coffee. Girls go upstairs. Girls go downstairs. Girls go to the basement. Girls go to the attic. Every scene looks the same, as if the whole movie was filmed in a single hallway that Wynorski rotated every hour.
**The Characters:
Five Sorority Sisters and Not a Brain Cell Between Them**
Linda, Jessica, Kimberly, Suzanne, and Janey are supposedly our heroines, though most of them have the survival skills of a Roomba trapped under a couch. Their personalities are “blonde,” “blonde with a knife,” “blonde but scared,” “blonde in lingerie,” and “victim #3.”
They encounter:
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A creepy neighbor who casually recounts murder like he’s reading a grocery list
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A killer who may be a ghost, may be a demon, or may be the script editor sorting out continuity
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A basement filled with murder tools that no one thinks to hide, lock up, or throw in a lake
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A Ouija board that literally tries to escape the film by flying into a fireplace
But do they leave? No. They wander around the house in the middle of a thunderstorm like they’re on a scavenger hunt for common sense.
The highlight is Kimberly stepping in a bear trap—in the attic. Why was there a bear trap in the attic? Why didn’t she look where she was going? Why did I keep watching? These are questions the film will not answer.
**The Police:
Two Officers, Zero Competence, Infinite Regret**
Lieutenant Mike Block and Sergeant Phyllis Shawlee are investigating a disturbance call, but spend most of their screentime chasing leads at a strip club, because of course they do. They attempt to interrogate a survivor named Candy, who seems exhausted—not from trauma, but from participating in this script.
Their grand contribution to the case? Being late. Repeatedly. So late, in fact, that a corpse with rigor mortis has more urgency.
**The Killer:
Possessed? Ghost? Recycled Footage? Yes.**
As the deaths pile up—including bear trap girl, hooked-in-the-basement girl, and shower girl—the killer remains a mystery. That’s because the movie wants us to care, despite the fact that everyone dies with the same expression: mild annoyance.
Eventually, we learn the killer is:
Jessica… who is possessed by Hockstatter… who is somehow also still alive in the house… except he isn’t… because the neighbor also dies but then doesn’t die and also kills the possessed girl… but then also dies… except then doesn’t die.
This “twist” feels like the writers spilled a bowl of character names on the floor and just filmed whatever order they landed in.
By the time Jessica reveals herself and screams “Hockstatter lives!”, you too may feel possessed by the spirit of someone who wants to throw their TV into the yard.
**Orville Ketchum:
The Human Punching Bag Who Cannot Die**
Orville is stabbed, strangled, drowned, choked, and stabbed again, all within 20 minutes. He dies roughly four times before breakfast. But like a horror-movie cockroach, he rises again—barefoot, shirtless, confused, and indestructible.
In the finale, he shoots Linda after she becomes possessed, is shot by police, dies, and then the film informs us he lived and was released because the police “couldn’t pin the murders on him.”
The police couldn’t pin the murders on him because THEY WERE TERRIBLE AT THEIR JOBS. Also, because the writers decided Orville needed to survive for a sequel, logic be damned.
**Cinematography & Editing:
A Masterclass in Running Out of Money**
The cinematography looks like someone filmed through a sock. Every scene has the same lighting: “dim basement that smells like mold and disappointment.” The editing, meanwhile, seems enthusiastic but confused—like someone mashed together the film reels and yelled, “It’s fine, no one will notice!”
Random shots from Slumber Party Massacre appear repeatedly, like the movie is waving desperately and screaming, “Remember THIS? Remember when you liked THAT movie?!”
**The Ending:
A Twist So Ridiculous It Collapses Under Its Own Stupidity**
Jessica is the killer—until she isn’t. Orville dies—until he doesn’t. Linda survives—until she becomes possessed. Then Orville shoots her—until the police shoot him—until he survives.
It ends not like a story, but like the production ran out of tape and Wynorski shouted, “Okay! Cut! Everyone go home!”
**Final Verdict:
A Glorious Trash Fire Best Enjoyed With Strong Alcohol**
Sorority House Massacre II is terrible. Catastrophically, proudly, lovingly terrible. It has:
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terrible dialogue
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terrible acting
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terrible lighting
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terrible logic
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terrible continuity
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terrible everything
And yet… it is impossible to hate. It’s a cinematic trainwreck that knows it’s a trainwreck and hands you popcorn.
If you enjoy campy horror, bare-bones filmmaking, and the kind of acting that belongs in a mall Halloween store commercial, this film is a joyful disaster. If you want a real slasher, though? Call the police. Not Mike and Phyllis—they’ll only make it worse.
