The Imp Has No Business Being This Funny

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MOVIE REVIEW
Sorority Babes in the Slimeball Bowl-O-Rama
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Genre: Horror, Comedy, Cult
Year Released: 1988, 101 Films Blu-ray 2025
Runtime: 1h 20m
Director(s): David DeCoteau
Writer(s): Sergei Hasenecz
Cast: Andras Jones, Linnea Quigley, Robin Stille, Brinke Stevens
Where to Watch: available December 8, 2025, pre-order your copy here: www.101-films-store.com

RAVING REVIEW: SORORITY BABES IN THE SLIMEBALL BOWL-O-RAMA earns its cult status reputation through sheer, unapologetic chaos. This is a movie with no interest in restraint, perfection, or logic; instead, it embraces the kind of charm that defined late-night cable horror throughout the ’80s. It’s crude, clumsy, horny, and relentlessly silly — and that’s exactly why it has endured for decades among the trash-cinema faithful.

The film’s origins as a shot-in-five-days, single-location quickie are all over the screen. There’s no attempt to hide the shoestring budget or the absence of refined storytelling. Instead, the film leans into its limitations, delivering 80 minutes of energy and absurdity. What makes it work, despite the flaws, is that everyone involved seems genuinely committed to giving the audience a fun, ridiculous time. There’s no cynicism here, no attempt to elevate the material into something it isn’t. It’s camp that knows it’s camp — and leans into it without hesitation.

At the center of the experience is its trio of iconic ’80s scream queens: Linnea Quigley, Brinke Stevens, and Michelle Bauer. Their presence alone elevates the film beyond typical low-budget fare. Quigley, in particular, gives the movie a sense of rebellion that only she could bring to the screen. Her character, Spider, walks in like someone who has already lived through ten better movies and has absolutely no patience for the nonsense unfolding around her. She brings attitude, humor, and a surprising amount of screen presence, becoming the film’s anchor even as the plot spirals into pure absurdity.

The story itself — if it can be called that — revolves around pledges, frat-boys, a sorority prank gone wrong, and a bowling-alley trophy that houses an evil imp. The Imp, aka Uncle Impie, voiced with glee and mischief by Dukey Flyswatter, becomes the movie’s comedic base. He grants wishes, cackles over carnage, and seems fully aware of how ludicrous the film is. The creature effects are primitive yet work so well, the dialogue is often ridiculous, and the humor veers into the kind of off-the-wall weirdness that only ’80s B-movies could get away with. Yet somehow, it’s consistently entertaining. Unfortunately, I noticed after watching the film that there has never been any sort of figure release of him, at least not that I could find, which is a shame, because I’d love to have him chilling on my movie shelf!

The movie’s tone is an unmistakable blend of sex comedy and supernatural horror. The opening act leans heavily into voyeurism and exaggerated college-movie antics, which reflect the era’s cheap-thrills approach. Once the action moves into the bowling alley, the film shifts into supernatural slapstick. The kills are goofy, the gore is light, and the atmosphere is closer to a late-night cartoon than to true horror. Even when the violence ramps up, the movie never loses its playful spirit.

Part of the film’s staying power comes from its embrace of low-budget creativity. The production clearly had limited resources, yet the filmmakers found ways to stretch what they had — whether through neon-lit corridors, shadows, or clever use of the bowling alley’s layout. The cramped setting works in the film’s favor, giving it a contained, after-hours vibe reminiscent of mall-horror classics. There’s something oddly comforting about watching characters run through deserted lanes and the arcade as the Imp unleashes chaos.

What also makes the film engaging is its self-awareness. There’s never a moment where it pretends to be a studio feature. Instead, it proudly marches into the realm of absurdity, fully aware that its audience is here for the cheese, the performances, and the outrageous title. It’s almost impossible to imagine this movie being released today in the same form — its mix of humor, rubber monsters, and cluelessness belongs to a specific moment in VHS history. That uniqueness is part of the charm.

The movie never becomes dull. Its commitment to its own ridiculousness keeps it afloat. The energy never dies, and the cast — particularly Quigley, Stevens, and Bauer — plays everything with just enough sincerity to keep the film from tipping into parody. The result is a movie that is messy, absurd, and oddly lovable. I haven’t watched the 2022 sequel yet, but with so many of the original cast returning in some form, I’m curious!

It’s not great in any traditional sense, but it’s undeniably fun for fans of ’80s cult cinema. It’s the kind of movie that rewards viewers who know exactly what they’re getting into: a neon-drenched relic of an era where creativity, sleaze, humor, and weird ambition all collided. This is trash cinema at its most charming — and it never tries to be anything else.

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[photo courtesy of 101 FILMS]

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