The Kids Are (most definitely not) Alright: Massacre at Central High

Greetings, devoted readers of The Liminal Space! And greetings to new readers! So much to discuss about a little film starring these guys. Who's up for a van ride...TO HELL?

Contrary to popular speculation, I have not moved to a different dimension of existence, though we did move to Juneau, Alaska a couple of years back and that’s kept me…busy.

Scenes from a very, very different life than we lived in California

Aside from spending the first year in massive transition shock on every imaginable level, it takes some doing to learn how to navigate life in a town with a population of 30,000 that is spread out over a metro area the size of Houston and is water-locked. Notwithstanding the hashtag #theroadtojuneau, there is no way to get in or out of here except by plane or ferry. That's easy to understand in the abstract, but one quickly develops an appreciation for what that means in a practical sense -- and I'll write about Juneau life in more detail eventually -- but the gist is that everything moves much more slowly, things can take some serious time to get here (Prime delivery? 2 weeks. Need something with a battery? Have to ship it via ferry), and there's a lot of stuff you have to figure out how to do because it can be hard to find professional help. Suffice it to say that I've developed a deeper appreciation for logistics in all forms and also figured out how to do things like replace the inside glass on an oven door.

On the professional side, I’ve been restructuring EMA Foundation through the efforts of an incredible team (more on that very soon). Oh, and I cook all of our meals as there are not a lot of options when it comes to dining out, and I’m pretty well convinced that I can make anything we’re craving at this point.

What would you like? Whatever it is, I can probably figure it out how to make it at this point

While I may do some reflecting on our move up at some point, I have to set that aside for a moment to share my excitement about a film we just saw that neither Stori nor I could believe we had never heard of: Massacre at Central High (link to full film!)

So I should remind old readers and mention to new ones that I have a fascination with horror stories and films for a lot of reasons, but especially because a well-told horror story inherently includes at least one level of radical social critique. Since it is almost October, I’ll be trying to convince you to watch some movies that provide plenty of opportunities to roll around in those occasionally gory details. In the case of Massacre at Central High, it’s not super-hard to figure out who the monsters are…and is so often the case, the monsters are most definitely us.

Released in 1976, Massacre at Central High is a different kind of horror film than the landmark films of that decade. There are none of the supernatural elements that power The Exorcist, no natural monsters like Jaws, and no deranged families or druggie ruffians like The Texas Chainsaw Massacre or Last House on the Left. Rather, the students that attend Central High – a seemingly typical SoCal school (actually a combination of Pomona College and Hollywood High) – supply the menace in this parable. Despite the sun-drenched quad and gorgeous beaches that frame the action, the story offers a dark view of human nature and an even darker view of social organization that continues to resonate almost a half century later.

Viewers might be forgiven if the wonder if they accidentally tuned into a different kind of 1970’s staple – the ABC After-School Special – during the opening credits, which introduce David, the film’s seeming protagonist, as he completes his daily run along the beach while a saccharine melody in the background tells us he is at “the crossroads of (his) life…a runner chasing dreams that could come true.” That David’s run ends with him looking at the dying rays of the sun at the beginning of the film should be a hint that his future might not be what he had in mind.

Never a good sign at the begnning of a story

David is an incoming transfer student at Central High, but his first day takes an odd turn when none of the kids in the hall will direct him to the student lounge, or even acknowledge his presence. As they avert their gazes and scurry towards classroom doors, they don’t interact with each other at all. David comes upon Bruce, Chris, and Paul, the school’s ruling clique – three blond-haired guys with the finest outfits JC Penney had to offer in 1976 – as they confront Spoonie, an erstwhile hippie wannabe graffiti artist, about a swastika he is in the midst of painting on a locker “as a social protest” against their suburbo-fascist oppression of anything aside from cowering in fear.

Spoonie (l) missed the dress code memo: it's all about oxfords and V-necks

Daalder frames the action super-tightly as Bruce and Craig slam Spoonie against the lockers, shaking viewers in the whiplash and smash as we watch Spoonie’s resolve crumble under an assault of velour-clad strongarms (and likely the stench of whatever reek was marketed to boys as “the way men smell.” As some of you may remember, the seventies were a special, special time for American masculinity and men’s fashion).

When David finally reaches the lounge with the help of Theresa, a pretty but sad “girl” (given the brief moments of full frontal nudity in the film, the actors are look to be in their early to mid twenties), he is surprised to discover that his friend Mark, who encouraged him to transfer, is a junior-seeming member of Bruce’s crew.

Where the story goes from there isn’t exactly rocket science in terms of developing a central conflict. As the strong-willed (and bodied, as it turns out) David feels the chill that the “Little League Gestapo,” as Theresa describes Bruce's gang, has put on school life, he starts to ask why people put up with it. “Man, the scene around here is a real bummer,” growls Spoonie as David asks why he won’t fight back. “It’s best that we lose our own battles,” explains Arthur, a hearing-impaired nerdy genius who works as a library assistant, as he straightens books that the Goon Squad has knocked off the shelves.

To anyone who had any experience of bullying in school, this film will likely bring back some vivid memories, as writer/director Rene Daalder does an extraordinary job of conveying the physical and psychological violence that that bullies inflict. No one -- the poor kid with the dilapidated car, the chunky kid in gym class, and even girls trying to mind their own business -- escapes the brutal cruelty the cool kids inflict with the sole purpose of reminding everyone else how powerless they are. “They get to everyone eventually,” remarks Theresa’s friend Jane (played by "Eight is Enough" middle child Lani O'Grady in a delicious bit of coincidental casting), foreshadowing Paul and Craig’s attempt to rape her and her friend Mary “to teach them a lesson” as Bruce watches.

For fascist wannabes, the cruelty is the point

One might expect that the crashing and screaming of an attempted sexual assualt would bring the principal or a bunch of teachers running, but in Daalder's world, there are no adults to rein in the attackers and there is no just order to restore. Unlike the boys who meekly shut up and take whatever the bullies are dishing out, Mary and Jane fight like hellions. When Mark makes an offhand remark to Theresa that Mary and Jane are "partying" with Bruce, Craig, and Paul, she strides into the classroom, and when Bruce tells her to leave, she takes a seat and spits "I'm waiting for Mary and Jane...how long will this take?" Bruce throws her into the hallway, where David hears the commotion and busts in to even the odds. Between the three of them, they leave the bullies in a bruised heap, but the momentary detente gives way to escalated mayhem and beyond once Bruce decides that David has to be put in his place.

I can’t get deeper into details without serious spoilers (the film’s trailer, sadly and hilariously, is absolutely packed with spoilers if you’re pressed for time), but the “and beyond” part of that description is what makes this film worthwhile and strangely timely and timeless. As the body count rises and the bullies are toppled by a ruthless (and not especially mysterious) force, the atmosphere at school improves considerably, but only for a fleeting moment . In a simple tale of revenge the story might end there, but Daalder’s choice to explore the struggle as new factions compete for control to replace Bruce’s crew as community leaders makes for a surprisingly meaty third act (and some of the more creative death scenes you’ll find in a slasher of this era).

Whether one reads Daalder’s Central High School as a metaphor for all American schools, society at large, or, in this particular moment, the U.S. House of Representatives, it revels in the complexity of human nature and what happens when people try to figure out who’s in charge, and what responsibility bystanders have to stand up to what they know is absolutely wrong, though standing up might entail risk.

So watch it if you can find it, friends – and please weigh in with feedback and hit me up if you want to talk about it…more soon as I get myself back into a more liminal headspace!