The Freeway Killer (1989) Paul Winters.

By the scrag-end of the 80s, the slasher boom was little more than dank campfire memory, so it comes as no surprise discovering that exploitation mavericks Cannon Films were more than willing to flog said dying horse. After loony kid Arthur (James Jude Courtney) gruesomely annihilates his hot-panted mommy and lunkheaded beau, he blossoms into a murderously out-sized nut-bag, slavishly aping slasher lore like a kid's join-the-dots colouring book, The Freeway Killer is dumb, but mostly fun escapist brain snot. Outgrowing his ill-secured booby hatch, Arthur violently escapes, bloodily pulverising all on his gratuitous spree, although he does show uncharacteristic clemency to a cutie poochie, suggesting that he's only 99% asshole. Wholly unexpectedly, Winters The Freeway Killer proved to be a wickedly entertaining retrograde kill-fest, largely due to the mindless savagery of the killer, the inclusion of guitar icon Robby Krieger slightly incongruous music, and having the bulk of the stalk n' slash enacted upon a Sci-schlock film set proved psychotronically apropos. The lush final girl's a proper hottie, Arthur's kill-count is prodigious, for me, The Freeway Killer feels like a crude splicing of Splatter University and Return To Horror High, and just like the man said, if ANYONE can CANNON can!