All Cheerleaders Die Review

Every good teenage slasher movie includes a female cheerleader stereotype – typically blonde, popular, ditzy, top-heavy, and dead within minutes. Daddy can’t help you while Ghostface is in hot pursuit, and neither will that Mercedes Benz you got as a Sweet Sixteen present – but what happens when the main cast of your horror film is completely populated by cheerleaders? You can’t execute every character, can you? With Lucky McKee helming (alongside co-director Chris Sivertson), such a drastic turn didn’t seem out of the ordinary, but All Cheerleaders Die displays a massive formal transition for McKee. Known for grungy, dirty, gritty horror like The Woman, McKee (and Sivertson) shake their pom-poms and wave their spirit fingers for a horror-inspired rendition of Bring It On - a bright, bitchy pep-rally crashed by death, destruction, and witchcraft.

In a high school full of jocks, nerds, plastics, and other normal cliques, Maddy
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