Review by Robert Bell
Bring out the taffeta, corsets, sequins, corsages and underage drinking; it''s time for prom!
Acting as a cultural tradition of tacky dresses, broken cherries and lonely fat girls who don''t get asked, the prom defines so much of what is wrong with Western culture. Teenagers learn to spend ridiculous amounts of money on formalwear, hotel rooms and gaudy limousines, while desperately seeking the approval of their sycophantic peers. It ushers in adulthood with gusto, defining the shallow surface-based world we live in that encourages underweight 17-year-old girls to shove their fingers down their throat to expel the handful of peanuts they had for lunch. One can only hope that they will be voted the prom king or queen, winning the popularity contest of false sincerity.
Prom Night dispels no myths about the glitzy debacle, featuring brain-dead teens babbling about menstrual cramps and who they intend to fornicate with, all while smiling blankly with perfectly glossed lips and soulless eyes. The purpose of the film is essentially to stage sequences of inevitable slaughter for each camera friendly vixen, but fails at even this simple task. The scares are about as innovative and clever as a black cat unexpectedly jumping out of a closet, and character logic is almost indecipherable. This is PG-13 horror at its crappiest; a movie best viewed while drunk.
Coming home one night, teenaged Donna (Brittany Snow) arrives to a quiet and suspect house. Upon finding the dead body of her younger brother, she decides to hide under a bed, where she watches her mother get stabbed to death by creepy stalker (Johnathon Schaech).