Alright, fellow tapeheads, let’s rewind to a time when the teen comedy landscape was, shall we say, less subtle. Fresh off the unexpected mega-success of Porky’s (1981), the cinematic floodgates opened, unleashing a torrent of imitators eager to cash in on hormones, hijinks, and high school humiliation. Digging through that dusty pile of hopefuls often unearthed gems of questionable taste but undeniable energy, and nestled squarely in that category is the 1983 Canadian export, Screwballs. Finding this on the shelf back in the day, maybe tucked between a slasher flick and a Cannon actioner, felt like unearthing pure, unadulterated B-movie gold.
Shameless Shenanigans at T&A High
Let's not beat around the bush: Screwballs (directed by Rafal Zielinski, who would later helm the surprisingly decent indie drama Fun) knows exactly what it is – a low-budget attempt to replicate the Porky's formula, right down to the period setting (though here it's the 60s, not the 50s) and the central quest for voyeuristic satisfaction. Our titular heroes – Rick (Peter Keleghan in one of his earliest roles, long before The Red Green Show or Murdoch Mysteries), Brent (Alan Daveau), Howie (Kent Deuters), and Tim (Jason Warren) – are a quartet of horny high schoolers at Taft & Adams High (get it? T&A?) obsessed with glimpsing the perpetually popular and perpetually clothed Purity Busch (Linda Speciale). Their elaborate, doomed-to-fail schemes invariably land them in hot water with the uptight Principal Stuckoff (Donnie Bowes) and the tyrannical hall monitor, Hoople (Jim Coburn – no, not that Jim Coburn!).
The plot, scribbled down by Linda Shayne and future B-movie maestro Jim Wynorski (Chopping Mall, The Return of Swamp Thing), is thinner than the paper gowns in the nurse’s office. It’s essentially a series of loosely connected vignettes revolving around the boys' attempts to peep, prank, and ultimately get revenge. Does it hold up narratively? Absolutely not. But that was never the point, was it? This was drive-in and late-night cable fodder, designed for laughs (however cheap) and maybe a glimpse of forbidden flesh. A true artifact of its time, filmed efficiently in Ontario, Canada, trying to pass for the American Midwest.
The Beauty of Budget Constraints
Watching Screwballs now is an exercise in appreciating the limitations of its era and budget. Reportedly made for around $1.2 million CAD (a respectable sum then, but peanuts compared to Hollywood productions), every dollar feels stretched thin. The sets are basic, the cinematography functional, and the overall aesthetic screams "early 80s Canuxploitation." Yet, there's a certain charm to its very cheapness. There are no slick digital effects here – just earnest, goofy practical gags and a cast giving it their enthusiastic, if not always polished, all.
The humor is broad, often crude, and deeply rooted in the specific anxieties and fantasies of early 80s teenage boys (as imagined by adult screenwriters, naturally). Some jokes land with a thud heavier than Hoople falling down the stairs, while others retain a certain nostalgic silliness. You have to admire the sheer audacity of its derivativeness; it wasn’t just inspired by Porky’s, it practically traced its outline. Interestingly, despite being critically mauled upon release (as you'd expect), Screwballs proved surprisingly profitable, especially on the booming home video market, eventually spawning two sequels: Screwballs II (1985) and the loosely connected Loose Screws (aka Screwballs III: The Final Chapter) (1985). Apparently, there was a real thirst for this stuff!
More Than Just a Punchline?
Okay, maybe not much more. The characters are archetypes – the leader, the fat guy, the nerd, the smooth talker. Peter Keleghan shows glimpses of the comedic timing that would serve him well later, but mostly everyone’s playing it loud and broad. Linda Speciale as Purity fulfills her role as the object of desire, while the villains are cartoonishly evil. It's all very surface-level, designed for immediate reaction rather than lingering thought.
But what Screwballs captures, perhaps unintentionally, is that slightly grubby, anarchic energy of low-budget filmmaking trying to hit a moving target. It’s a time capsule of sorts – a snapshot of what passed for edgy teen entertainment before the genre got slightly more sophisticated (or at least, slightly better funded) later in the decade with John Hughes. You watch it less for the story and more for the vibe – the music, the questionable fashion trying to evoke the 60s through an 80s lens, the sheer shamelessness of it all. My own well-worn tape of this, recorded off late-night TV, was a testament to its weird rewatchability back then.
Final Score & Verdict
Screwballs isn't high art, or even competent art, really. It's a crass, derivative, low-budget teen sex comedy that exists almost entirely because Porky's made a boatload of money. Yet, viewed through the fuzzy lens of VHS nostalgia, it possesses a certain goofy charm and historical curiosity. It delivered exactly what it promised on the tin (or the tape box), finding its audience among teens and renters looking for uncomplicated, raunchy laughs.
Rating: 4/10
Justification: It’s technically clumsy, narratively vacant, and often cringeworthy, BUT it perfectly achieves its incredibly low aims as an unapologetic Porky’s clone and energetic slice of early 80s B-movie opportunism. It’s a relic, but a strangely watchable one if you’re in the right nostalgic mood.
Final Thought: Forgettable art, maybe, but Screwballs is a prime example of that specific, slightly greasy brand of early 80s comedy that thrived in the aisles of the video store – pure, unadulterated rental bait.