The slasher genre is a hard one to keep fresh. Once dominating the ’80s and briefly roaring back in the ’90s, it now feels like it’s been pushed to the sidelines, with many new entries heading straight to DVD. Fans like myself still enjoy the occasional gem — Girl House being a standout — but let’s be honest, most follow the same tired formula: masked killer, dumb characters, rinse and repeat.
So, credit where it’s due to writers M.A. Fortin and Joshua John Miller, who deliver one of the most ambitious slasher movies in years. This is Halloween meets Back to the Future. Confused? Good — I did say it was ambitious.
Right from the start, The Final Girls makes its intentions clear. This is a love letter to slasher fans. The cheeky use of that infamous “ki ki ki” instantly sets the tone, and the introduction to Camp Bloodbath — a fake ’80s slasher — is so perfectly done it just makes you miss that golden era of horror.
Like many slashers of the time, Camp Bloodbath became a cult favourite — though not for its star Amanda (Malin Akerman). Her role as the sweet, guitar-playing blonde who gets killed after sex has haunted her ever since. Now stuck in a fading career, the one bright light in her life is her daughter Max (Taissa Farmiga), and it’s their relationship that becomes the true heartbeat of the film.
And that’s where The Final Girls separates itself. It’s rare for a slasher to make you actually care about its characters, but the early moments between mother and daughter are warm, funny, and real — which makes what follows hit harder than expected.
Three years later, Max reluctantly attends a screening of Camp Bloodbath… only for things to take a bizarre turn. A fire breaks out, and somehow, she and her friends end up inside the very film they were watching. What follows is basically Pleasantville meets Last Action Hero meets Friday the 13th — and for the most part, it works brilliantly.
Once the group realise they’re trapped inside the movie and have to play by its rules, the fun really begins. You’ve got all the classic slasher archetypes — the best friend, the bitchy one, the geek, the jock — but they’re all likeable enough to avoid feeling like clichés. Then come the Camp Bloodbath counsellors, who are pure ’80s stereotypes turned up to eleven.
Adam DeVine’s Kurt is your typical muscle-headed jock, but it’s Angela Trimbur who steals the show as Tina — the over-the-top camp “slut” whose dance to lure the killer is worth the price of admission alone. Honestly… it’s probably the best scene in the film.
But beneath all the laughs and meta madness, the emotional core never disappears. When Max reunites with her mum — now just a character in the movie — it adds a surprising emotional weight that I genuinely didn’t expect. The film walks a fine line between comedy and heart, and somehow, it sticks the landing.
As for the killer? He’s basically a Jason clone — and that’s entirely the point. Billy Murphy (Dan B. Norris) comes complete with a tragic black-and-white backstory and that familiar “ki ki ki” echoing every time he appears. It’s a brilliant nod that horror fans will absolutely appreciate.
That said… for a slasher, this is where the film stumbles slightly. The kills are tame. There’s very little real gore, and at times it feels like the film is holding back when it should be going all in. If you’re coming for brutal, memorable kills, you might walk away a little disappointed.
But maybe that’s not the point.
What the writers have done here is take the self-awareness of Scream and push it even further. This isn’t just parody — it’s a full-on celebration of the genre, wrapped in something genuinely clever and surprisingly heartfelt.
The ending practically screams sequel… but honestly, they’d be hard pushed to capture this magic twice.
Funny, smart, and unexpectedly emotional, The Final Girls was one of 2015’s biggest surprises. It may not deliver the bloodbath you expect, but I can’t remember the last time I laughed this much at a slasher……actually, I can — Halloween: Resurrection — but those were for all the wrong reasons.
Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m off to rewatch The Final Girls again…
…just for that dance.
Good old Tina.
Bonkers.
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