'Hide and Go Shriek' (1988) - Skip Schoolnik.

It's relatively easy to praise the more meritorious 80s slashers by their relative lack of conspicuous cliché. Right from the deliciously ominous opening sequence, only partially revealing some ill-lit transvestite lovingly prettying himself up for a memorable fright on the town, Skip Schoolnik's surprisingly gritty 'Hide and Go Shriek' (1988) has a seamier underbelly than the typically sardonic slashers of the era. Schoolnik's starker tonality is rather more suggestive of, Joseph Zito's 'Bloodrage' (1979) or, William Lustig's sleazy scalp-fest 'Maniac' (1980). The innately outré weirdness eerily displayed by the gloom enshrouded perpetrator would later add additional tension to his wholly freakish modus operandi!

A rowdy group of High School friends plan to celebrate their Graduation in the enticingly labyrinthine domain of, John Robbins (Sean Kanan) father's downtown furniture warehouse. Their laudable intention to drunkenly cavort, and inevitably consort with their girlfriends within the ostensibly safe confines of this cavernous building certainly begins amicably enough. The lusty teen-aged larks soon taking a bloodier turn, much like 'The Mutilator', their boisterous game of hide & go seek having a grislier set of rules in the distempered psyche of their entirely unwelcome guest 'seeker'!

At the tipping point when beery tomfoolery becomes deadly serious is when 'Hide and Go Shriek' veers excitingly away from tiresome 'Final Girl' tropes, and mercilessly enters a far more disturbingly unpredictable diorama! The goody two-shoes girl, buzz-haired bad boy and spunky, sartorially impaired teenagers all meet their doom with equal savagery! The sweaty intensity of the final act is ruthlessly maintained as the sword of Damocles descends upon our terrified fluffy-haired B-Movie bunny's heads! Watching them tearing about hither and thither in the angsty glooms of this impenetrable warehouse of abundant home furnishings, not infrequently yields some deliciously deviant thrills, along with its perversely orchestrated, skin-prickingly shriek-worthy plasma spills!

Bluntly put, director, Skip Schoolnik's progressively tripped-out, creepily claustrophobic, warehouse-imprisoned nightmare is deserving of far greater appreciation. The playful, adorably 80s protagonists are effervescently likeable, their grisly fates not readily predicted, and composer, John Ross's atmospherically doomy terror tones should penetrate the calloused fright-armour of even the most shock-resilient horror fan! 88 Films are to be congratulated by including yet another poorly represented 80s gem in their increasingly essential ‘Slasher Classics Collection.’ 

‘For one night only at Fine Furniture they’re slashing way more than just the prices!...On a first come, first severed basis!’