Sorority Babes In The Slimeball Bowl-A-Rama 2!

After a 34-year wait, the least likely sequel of all-time is finally here!

By: Toxicka Shock

toxickashock@gmail.com

Twitter: @toxickashock

Instagram: @toxickashock

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In the medical world, the term “sequelae” is commonly used to describe a complication or condition created by a previous disease or injury.

That “sequelae” sounds so much like “sequel” — a word virtually wedded to the notion of the horror film — is perhaps more than just the consequence of shared Latin roots.

I thought of the medical “sequelae” quite a bit while watching “Sorority Babes in the Slimeball Bowl-a-Rama 2” — a 34-year-late addendum to a late night cable staple that seemed at the time to be the LEAST likely film on the pantheon of straight-to-VHS horror offerings to ever get a part two.

Naturally, something very peculiar had to happen culturally between 1988 and 2022 to facilitate the existence of “Slimeball 2.” The sequel couldn’t have been made in 1995, it couldn’t have been made in 2005 and it probably wouldn’t have been viable even as recently as 2015.

More than just a longing for late 1980s trash ephemera — the resurrection of the rightly dormant “Geraldo Rivera” tabloid talk show format must be right around the corner — “Slimeball 2” works, more unintentionally than intentionally, as both a half-hearted homage to the excesses and idiocies of the George H.W. Bush years as well as a “correction” of the pop cultural milieu that bred “Slimeball 1” in the first place.

That “Slimeball 2” is directed by Brinke Stevens, a star of the 1988 original, rather than “Slimeball 1” helmer David DeCoteau is something of an acknowledgement of the later theory. If the original “Slimeball” was cheesy T and A for the teenage masturbator set, “Slimeball 2” is a reflection of the culture of cheesy T and A for the teenage masturbator set seen through the lens of one of the most objectified female bodies of the 1980s. 

Of course, if you’re looking for a staunchly feminist diatribe that skewers now mainstream concepts like the male gaze, “Slimeball 2” isn’t that film. It has its flashes of deeper social consciousness, but for the most part, this cinematic sequelae is precisely that — a confused and conflicted celluloid contemplation that arrives a mere three and a half decades too late.

Rather than an update of the 1988 film’s premise, “Slimeball 2” is more or less a mild reworking of the original movie, with hardly any efforts made to make the production feel “modern.” Yes, there are subplots that call to mind current technology, but those elements feel moe like plot glue than anything approaching “social commentary.” Remove the whole “frat boys using web cams to spy on sorority sisters” shtick and this flick could almost work as an unintentional period piece.

yep. nothing bad can happen to young people breaking into a bowling alley in a horror movie.

Barely a minute into the movie it’s apparent that “Slimeball 2” isn’t a reflection of late 1980s culture but an attempt to replicate it. The heroines of the film talk and dress just like the vixens from any number of straight to tape shlockers from the Thatcher and crack cocaine years, periodically piercing the veil to make tongue-in-cheek references to things like “imp-splaining.” As the house mother, Kelli Maroney primarily plays apologist for “the good old days,” but at the same time she also warns the sorority sisters about making the same transgressions her generation did 40 years earlier. It’s the film’s only real attempt at a “teachable moment,” so to speak — and even then, it’s drowned out by subsequent dialogue that reminds the college-aged of today that if guys always buy you drinks, you’ll have more disposable income around to go shoe shopping.

It should sound ironic. Instead, it sounds like one of those wine aunt memes on Facebook — bitter self-loathing repackaged and commodified as a witty truism.

Of course, there is going to plenty of nudity here. Virtually every female character in the movie exposes her breasts at some point in the picture. As for character development, about as deep as we get is a whipped cream fight followed by a long, soapy shower scene.

Therein lies the biggest distinction between this sequel and the original. As cheesy and corny as the 1988 movie may have been, the characters still felt multi-dimensional. They weren’t terribly intricate characters, but they at least felt like real people. The characters in “Slimeball 2,” however, are basically live-action cartoons. Like porno actresses, the characters just feel like hired hands (and breasts and asses) with no genuine motivations or pathos. There’s a plastic, self-parodying tone to “Slimeball 2” that certainly wasn’t the case with the original film. Who knows if that’s a conscious decision — or a conscious deconstruction — on the director’s part. Just keep in mind that while Stevens directed the film, the script was written by Kent Roudebush — yes, the same scribe that gave us “Attack of the 50 Foot Cam Girl” and “Zombies vs. Strippers.”

A very telling thing about “Slimeball 2” is its run time. At barely an hour long, it’s about as short a movie can be while still being classified as a feature film. Even more remarkable, the devious imp that sets the story into motion doesn’t even make an appearance until the 37th minute of the picture. There MIGHT be 20 minutes of an actual horror-comedy in this thing, but that’s a very generous estimate.

While two-thirds of “Slimeball 2” could rightly be described as padding and  low-effort jerk-off material, the final act definitely shows some signs of promise. While the imp puppet is even LESS convincing then in 1988 (complete with the VERY ill-advised decision to have the creature quote Martin Luther King, Jr. when released from his bowling trophy tomb), the “Wishmaster” lite gimmick actually has some legs, with the heroines, one-by-one, getting done in by their conceits and anxieties. 

...still better than 2016's ghostbusters, though.

OK, the bossy know-it-all micro-planner brunette getting a bowling pin launched through her head isn’t quite the metaphor the filmmakers were aiming for, but there is a genuinely unnerving sequence where a sorority girl is fused into the same body as her dream male. It’s a brilliant and fairly disturbing segment with the best makeup effects of the entire movie. With a misshapen face and puffed out lips, the victim fondles her own breasts, completely infatuated with the possession of her own distorted female form. That’s something you definitely didn’t get out of the 1988 movie. Had all of “Slimeball 2” gone that route, not only would we have a better movie, we might even have one that’s a solid slice of quasi-serious body horror. 

Stevens and Michelle Bauer do show up later in the movie, although their appearances are more accurately described as extended cameos. Like the “Halloween” redux from 2018, “Slimeball 2” straddles a shaky line between being a reinvention and a reintroduction. It doesn’t work as either, of course, but from the outset it’s apparent that no one at Full Moon had any idea WHAT would’ve made this sequel successful.

I think the filmmakers would acknowledge that it’s virtually impossible to make a genuinely great movie with a title like “Sorority Girls in the Slimeball Bow-A-Rama 2.” The best you can hope for is a fun, goofy diversion, an expendable blood and titty fest meant to (over)stimulate hormonal audiences with unrealistic expectations of inter-gender relationships they’ll probably never experience.

Perhaps you can appreciate “Slimeball 2” as a loving throwback to more decadent times in independent filmmaking. Of course, in the post-“MeToo” era, it’s impossible to look back at exploitation movies with the same airy, unconcerned attitude. For the 1988 movie, the question was whether or not there was an actual women’s lib message amidst all of the objectification. If there was, it was likely unintentional — the line between pro-feminist and pro-fetishist, naturally, was rather knotted at that point in time.

Therein lies the sequelae, so to speak, of “Slimeball 2.” The filmmakers had three decades to mull over the 1980s exploitation horror milieu — an industry that hasn’t had the best track record when it comes to treatment of actresses. Revisiting the concept offered plenty of opportunities to reassess the deeper social and political undercurrents of that time and today, but “Slimeball 2” ultimately ends up as little more than another superficial homage to the concept of late 1980s horror-sex comedies, but not exactly the substance of late 1980s horror-sex comedies.

“Slimeball 2” is a sequel that at least has the cognizance to feel guilty about liking the original film. It’s a film that clearly understands that its adoration of its inspiration isn’t because of what it is, but what it isn’t. The appeal of the 1988 movie, retroactively, is a celebration of ignorance and naivety — i.e., the notion that you could be crude and crass and cruel and misogynistic and not get penalized for it. I wonder how much of the adulation for 1980s horror exploitation stems from a genuine appreciation for the filmmaking and how much can be attributed to its glorious lack of “political correctness” … a term that, ultimately, boils down to the inconsequentialness of treating others like shit.

are you *sure* practical effects are all that great again?

Nobody wants a “woke” Full Moon filmography. But at the same time, you can’t help but feel disappointed that “Slimeball 2” doesn’t take a more aggressive and critical stance on gender issues. Glimmers of pointed self-awareness bubble up at times, but whatever sociopolitical edge was intended (if at all) comes across as dull and blunted.  

If you want to give the filmmakers the benefit of the doubt, perhaps you can read “Slimeball 2” as a reflection of the vapidity and dishonesty of the late ‘80s horror-comedy industry. You might even take it a step further and interpret “Slimeball 2” as a condemnation of the original film, with the monster effects and realistic gore subtracted to make the threadbare objectification even more obvious. 

Yes, you can enjoy “Slimeball 2” as nothing more than disposable trash entertainment. But it’s not 1988 anymore, and not only has the horror film industry evolved, so has its fandom. Even the least noble genre movie in this day and age is scrutinized and deconstructed and criticized through deeper social contexts and ideological lenses.

Even cheesy B-horror movies have real-world value as honest reflections of societal trends. They refract our hidden phobias, and much more commonly, our secret prejudices. Who the monsters and victims are — and how they’re actions are morally assessed — generally tend to track with the accepted mores of cultural at large.

At the end of the day (or video cassette, if we’re stuck on that “retreaux” motif), “Slimeball 2” is a movie that’s equally frustrating and promising. It’s frustrating because it tries to recreate the original with resources and filming conditions that just aren’t conducive to that production scale anymore. But it’s promising, oddly enough, in its failures. That the corny, cheesy, outmoded humor and “bimbos in peril” shtick falls flat is a sure-fire sign that things have change substantially since 1988.

Too bad “Slimeball 2” never takes it to the next logical step and makes a firm declaration that such isn’t a bad thing, but a very positive one. That’s the tragedy interlaced with the comedy, I suppose — it’s a sequel that denounces the original by celebrating it, when it just as easily could’ve celebrated the original by denouncing it outright.

XOXO, Toxicka