The killer cookie once voiced by the great Gary Busey escapes prison and travels back in time to a 70s roller disco’s last night before its foreclosure. After losing his time-travelling device, the tiny treat kills time away by bumping off the funky customers in some funked up ways until he can find it again. Standing in his way is a timid beauty by the name of Cherry, niece to the club’s owner. She may be shy but inside is roller boogie queen dying to break free. Oh, and she has telekinetic powers like Carrie…
The greatest thing about a psychopath baked into existence with a little cookie dough and a sprinkling of killer comedy is that ain’t nobody can accuse you of taking the cake when the sequels crank up the laugh-o-meter…
While the bulk of the acting is almost blasé, the highlight is Kent Fuher aka Jackie Beat as Cherry’s domineering aunt Trixie. Girl is a sassy, silver-haired firecracker and faux villainess, who stands in the way of her defiant niece at every turn. Albeit, a less preachy/abusive incarnation of Carrie’s mother. But beneath that hard-to-crack crust is a proud, All-American gal, trapped somewhere under the debris of a crushing guilt from her past. Just the fact that Trixie is clearly a drag queen brings a whole other level of hilarity to her performance as she camps it up by lampooning some classic movie starlet roles.
There is violence a-plenty, but the special effects are so lame that it’s mostly pitiful schlock. They’ve even given up on trying to make the little Gingerdead dude creepy. The voice isn’t great and his new toothy and dopey appearance kind of makes him look like the dumb mogwai from the Gremlin movies.
I do feel that some may deserve a fair warning about Cleaver, while it’s all fun and gore, if you’re not a fan of this amped up level of camp-as-daisies ridiculousness, you will straight-up fucking loathe this flick. The sheer overabundance of 70s roller-boogie inserts are enough to make anyone flip their tits. And you thought the Carrie (1976) rip-off from Friday the 13th Part VII: The New Blood (1988). Just wait till ya getta load of this shit!
Sure, you may find plenty to hate about Saturday Night Cleaver, and I wouldn’t blame you. But if there’s even the slightest chance you want to show the love, I dare you not to smile from ear to ear during the funniest send-up of Lecter & Clarice ever committed to film. I dare you not to bop your head like a drunken teenager when you hear the words “Run, run, run as fast as you can!” I dare you not to absolutely love this movie!