A newscaster delivers an opening line that says it all:
“Was it a pretty face that made this gaping, jagged hole in the windshield?”
Sandy is bummed. After breaking up with her boyfriend, she has no hope of attending prom. Luckily, a Greek chorus of ghost voices convinces Sandy to listen to her friend’s advice and ask Bill to prom. Not so luckily, Bill is a budding alcoholic with a custom van. You don’t need me to tell you that this is never a good combination. Bill rents a powder blue tuxedo that looks just like the one William Katt wears in Carrie. Sandy has hallucinogenic daydreams about Bill picking out his tux and washing a car. Soon enough, Sandy and Bill arrive at prom with another couple. Between hits of vodka, Bill says: “C’mon, let’s go for a drive — I have a six pack in the van!”
Too bad the ghost voices couldn’t be bothered to warn Sandy about the gruesome agony that lay ahead.
The Last Prom is a 16mm classroom scare film that traumatized teens across the country throughout the 1980s. It was shot in Ohio, but could have just as easily originated in Stephen King’s fictitious town of Castle Rock. Previously made in 1954 and 1972, this haunted remake by writer-director Gene McPherson combines the melodramatic camp of The Shangri-las’ “I Can Never Go Home Anymore” with the moody vibe of The House on Sorority Row and a ghastly climax that would make early gore F/X queen Allison Louise Downe proud. Unlike Signal 30 and Mechanized Death — two infamous driver’s ed films — The Last Prom doesn’t deflate your soul with ghoulish footage from real-life car wrecks. Instead, the movie uses slasher ambience, fake gore, and a faux documentary style to tell a story — one that’s outrageous, hilarious, exploitive, and sad. And that’s what makes it so brilliant.
My whole life, people have told me that I’m “too sensitive.” This might be true. Because on more than one occasion, I’ve cried while watching an episode of Supergirl. But if being in touch with my feelings is what causes me to be absolutely destroyed by a 24-minute driver’s ed movie from 1980, I’ll take it. The Last Prom isn’t a proper horror movie, but it behaves like one. The set-up is fun and slightly ominous. A feeling of dread creeps up slowly. Then the inevitable bloodbath happens. Along with the cast, my emotions are thrown through Bill’s windshield and smashed against the cold concrete. I can feel it. I like it. And when it’s all over, I want to ride the rollercoaster again. From The Honeymoon Killers to Possession, that’s the mark of a good horror movie.
The Last Prom isn’t going to be your new favorite anything. Most people will probably be bored while watching it. But in my living room, this dreamlike, educational film equivalent of Kenneth Anger’s Hollywood Babylon is a summer bummer of the highest order, and a classroom scare film by which all others will be judged.
A newscaster delivers a closing line that says it all:
“The coffin lid will not be open — it was better that way.”
