Drive-In Dust Offs: NEW YEAR’S EVIL (1980)

The clock is ticking down, the party’s getting started, and no one is prepared for… New Year’s Evil (1980). Okay, I just made up that slogan, but it encapsulates the spirit of this Cannon release; perhaps not in execution, as its perspective is definitely from an earlier era at odds with the then current slasher boom. This is its strength, as it dares to be different from the masked forays of the day. (Fine, he wears a mask once - but that’s all, I swear!)

Released on December 26th (or Boxing Day, as we Canucks call it), this Golan-Globus production didn’t stir up the box office and was summarily dismissed by critics as yet another tiring slash and gash. And while it certainly adheres to a few popular elements of the sub-genre, it chooses to upend that by focusing on its antagonist rather than the protagonist. For this alone, New Year’s Evil stands a little out of time.

Our little ditty opens on an L.A. Holiday Inn, as syndicated TV host Diane “Blaze” Sullivan (Roz Kelly – Happy Days) is getting her makeup done before her live New Year’s Eve broadcast. She places a call to her assistant, enquiring if she managed to get ahold of Diane’s husband back in Palm Springs; alas, he’s already partying and won’t make it out for her show. We then cut to her assistant’s hotel room, which in short order is made guestless. Cue opening credits and we’re off and running, a car full of “punks” cruising down the strip to a song that’s a lot more Kiss than Germs headed for Blaze’s show. Once inside, Blaze handles listeners’ requests to suss out the best new wave song of the year (spoiler: it’s none of the ones featured in the movie). One such caller certainly catches her ear: going by the name Evil and using a Peter Frampton voice box to disguise his own, Evil (Kip Niven – Magnum Force) promises to punish a “naughty girl” for each of the time zones her show is covering, culminating with her own special punishment in Pacific Time.

Naturally, the police center on Blaze and the hotel; meanwhile Evil uses a variety of disguises (priest, nurse, friend of Erik Estrada – you know, the usual) and plays back each punishment over the phone to her from a tape recorder as the countdown ends. As if she didn’t have enough on her plate, Blaze is visited by her son Derek (Grant Cramer – Killer Klowns from Outer Space), who when not begging for his mom’s attention is busy crying and wearing her stockings on his head. (Show biz families, I swear.) As time marches on, will the police be able to save Blaze from this…New…Year’s…Evil?

No matter what you may have heard about this film, you can’t deny that title. It’s catchy, pulpy, and sets you up for a very specific kind of fun. That it decides to take a different route is part of New Year’s Evil’s charm. (Okay, it’s most of it, really.) You’re expecting a stalker film, with the final girl in constant peril. New Year’s Evil for the most part eschews that narrative; we follow the killer instead of the heroine – she’s all reaction until the last reel when she comes face to face with Evil. Until then, she’s merely a spectator like us.

So what we have, smack dab in the middle of the slasher golden age, is a throwback to Powell’s Peeping Tom (1960) or Hitchcock’s Frenzy (1972), as we follow and peer into the mind of a deranged psychopath. Now, before you start sending me letters (do people still send letters?), realize I am in no way comparing this cheap little item to those genuinely artistic thrillers. I’m just saying there’s something to be said for trying, especially when the focus could easily be shifted to buxom damsels in distress.

Don’t worry, if that’s your bag, Evil specializes in buxom damsels; you may even say he’s incredibly misogynistic – well, by the denouement, that is. Before then, he’s just a standard issue psycho, doling out his punishment by knife, and by knife, and by a very large bag of pot. But when he lays it all out for Blaze as to why he’s carrying out his vengeance – boy oh boy, he does not think highly of the fairer sex. Oh, and you will receive exactly zero prizes for figuring out the connection between Evil and Blaze.  What is fascinating, however, is how long it takes director Emmett Alston (Demonwarp) and writer Leonard Neubauer (Slaves) to portray her as the heroine. Before the final reel, she is played (none too convincingly by Kelly, alas) as a cold, uncaring mother more concerned with her own career than her family’s well-being. And while her son may not have inherited his own mental illness from her side of the family (NUDGE, NUDGE), she certainly does contribute heavily to any abandonment issues he may possess.

So while Blaze doesn’t deserve to be assailed by Evil (as do none of his other, completely innocent victims), she will not be up for any Mother of the Year Awards anytime soon. Come to think of it, there really isn’t anyone to root for in the film, with the exception of the film’s true star, Kip Niven. Here he gets to play against his fruitful nice guy image, his gee whiz demeanor upended right from his first seen kill, and he really goes for it. He brings a real energy and spunk to Evil, which is good as he’s the main focus for much of the running time. So am I glomming onto his character because he’s by far the most interesting (okay, Blaze’s son has his moments too)? You bet, in the same way that one would gravitate towards the most kinetic person at a party. He’s where the fun is.

No, New Year’s Evil isn’t especially stylish. The kills and thrills are rather mundane (with the exception of an elevator chain ride near the end). The acting, aside from Niven, is uneven. But sometimes a different perspective (or at least a temporarily refreshed one), in retrospect, can help a film stand apart from its machete wielding brethren. I guess I’m just saying that at the end of the night there’s certainly worse places you could be when the ball drops.

New Year’s Evil is available on Blu-ray from Scream Factory.