Alright, fellow tapeheads, gather 'round the flickering glow of the imaginary CRT. Tonight, we’re digging deep into the plastic shell for a title that practically screams late-80s video store shelf: Cheerleader Camp (1988). Forget high art; this is pure, unadulterated drive-in fodder elevated to cult status by the magic of magnetic tape and questionable life choices made during weekend rentals. Finding this gem, perhaps nestled between a Friday the 13th sequel and some forgotten action flick, felt like unearthing forbidden treasure – a promise of goofy gore and Reagan-era absurdity.

The setup is classic slasher gold: a busload of enthusiastic (and occasionally bitchy) cheerleaders descends upon the unfortunately named Camp Hurrah for intense training. Among them is Alison (Betsy Russell), our troubled protagonist plagued by disturbing nightmares and a growing sense of unease. Anyone who’s seen a horror film from this decade knows where this is going. Sunshine, short shorts, and team spirit quickly curdle into paranoia and murder as a mysterious killer starts trimming the squad in increasingly unpleasant ways. The plot isn't exactly complex, weaving familiar threads of rivalry, red herrings, and repressed trauma, but honestly, were we renting Cheerleader Camp for intricate plotting? I distinctly remember popping this tape in late one Friday night, the grainy picture only adding to the slightly sleazy, dangerous atmosphere the film cultivates beneath its peppy surface.

What truly elevates Cheerleader Camp into memorable territory is its wonderfully 80s cast. Leading the pack is Betsy Russell, years before she became synonymous with the Saw franchise. She brings a genuine intensity to Alison's psychological unraveling, grounding the film slightly amidst the escalating absurdity. Seeing her here, navigating slasher tropes with wide-eyed fear, is a fantastic retro treat for fans of her later work.
And then there’s Leif Garrett. Yes, that Leif Garrett, former teen heartthrob, playing the smarmy boyfriend character, Brent. His presence alone is a fascinating time capsule, a snapshot of a star navigating the post-Tiger Beat phase of his career. It's the kind of unexpected casting that makes these B-movies so much fun to revisit. Rounding out the notable names is Lucinda Dickey, forever remembered by many of us for busting moves in Breakin' (1984) and its sequel. Here, she plays the stern cheerleading coach, Ms. Tipton, a role far removed from Ozone and Turbo, adding another layer of "Hey, I know her!" nostalgia. Apparently, the film originally had the much more direct, if less marketable, title Bloody Pom Poms, which feels perfectly apt.


Directed by John Quinn, Cheerleader Camp operates squarely within the slasher playbook established by giants like Halloween (1978) and Friday the 13th (1980). The kills aren't necessarily the most inventive of the era, but they possess that tangible, practical effects charm we crave. Remember how real those squib hits and prosthetic wounds looked back then, before CGI smoothed everything over? There's a messy, physical reality to the gore here – think Karo syrup blood and latex appliances – that feels satisfyingly visceral, even through the VHS fuzz.
The film leans heavily into the expected T&A quota of the time, something that feels jarringly dated now but was par for the course on the video store horror shelf. Yet, amidst the cheesier elements and sometimes clunky dialogue, there are moments where the film genuinely tries to build suspense, particularly around Alison's deteriorating mental state. Filmed primarily at Camp Nelson in the beautiful, but in this context, foreboding Sequoia National Forest in California, the setting provides an effective, isolated backdrop for the mayhem. You can almost feel the low budget dictating some choices, but that often forced creativity in this era, resulting in a certain rough-around-the-edges appeal.
Cheerleader Camp isn't going to rewrite horror history. It's formulaic, occasionally silly, and deeply rooted in the specific aesthetics and attitudes of the late 1980s. But that's precisely its charm. It delivers exactly what it promises: a fun, trashy slasher flick with memorable B-list stars, some decent practical gore, and a healthy dose of unintentional comedy. It’s a film that thrived in the home video market, finding its audience through lurid cover art and word-of-mouth among genre fans. It’s not scary in the modern sense, but it’s an entertaining slice of slasher history.

Justification: This score reflects the film's status as a solid piece of cheesy 80s slasher fun. It hits the expected beats, features a fun retro cast, and delivers enough practical gore and camp (pun intended) to entertain fans of the subgenre. It's far from perfect – the plot is thin, and some elements haven't aged well – but its B-movie enthusiasm and nostalgic value earn it points. It does exactly what it says on the tin, which, in the world of VHS discoveries, was often more than enough.
Final Thought: Give me Cheerleader Camp's messy practical effects and wonderfully dated charm over slick, soulless CGI any day. It’s a perfect slice of late-night VHS pizza – maybe not gourmet, but deeply satisfying in its own nostalgic way. Go Team Gore!