If you didn’t know by the title alone that Dustin Ferguson was showing love (or lazily stealing from) Tobe Hooper’s essential horror film, the opening text crawl and narration will be a dead giveaway that you’re about to sink into a cheapjack homage (or rip-off) of that classic massacre that went down in Texas. Here, it’s Halloween night and some college kids are throwing a party on the old stomping grounds of a killer clown by the name of Gilbert Gacy. Gacy’s ghost is there to greet the elderly college kids with various joke weapons in hand. A poorly done TCM follows after an extended bit of getting to know all of the characters that could be called “charm vacuums” on a good day. We’re talking like twenty minutes with these dinks in a movie that runs forty five. They check out a Spirit Halloween (one of the worst places on earth) and spend a seemingly endless amount of time trying on costumes and looking at decorations. So, take how annoying and unpleasant a trip to Spirit is in real life and then multiply that by ten because it’s all set to some awful electronic music. That finally fucking ends and everyone heads to the party at the dead serial killer’s abandoned home. Lame party shenanigans kick in to more electronic music. Hope you like lethargic dance moves and a level of sadness you haven’t experienced at a party since that birthday in Joey’s basement where the ladies never showed up and Joey’s mom forgot to order the pizzas. This also goes on way longer than expected and if you haven’t hung yourself by this point, I’m sorry you’ve experienced garbage worse than this. With twenty minutes left, the big ol’ ghost clown shows up and gets his kill on… in between a story about Gacy’s history and shenanigans from our “heroes”. The kind of filmic diarrhea that gives backyard filmmaking a bad name. The low-effort villain costume still works and deserves a better film built around it. The last seven minutes are credits, so go fuck yourself.
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