Nightmare Sisters Review (1988) — Thalia’s Spook-n-Boobtacular Day 6
Directed by: David DeCoteau
Released: 1988
Runtime: Approximately 83 minutes
Also Known As: Sorority Succubus Sisters
Oh, my beautiful degenerates.
OH, MY BEAUTIFUL, BEAUTIFUL DEGENERATES!
Tonight, we are gathered here to celebrate something truly special.
Something magnificent.
Something that reminds us why the gods blessed humanity with motion pictures in the first place.
LINNEA QUIGLEY. BRINKE STEVENS. MICHELLE BAUER.
ALL THREE OF THEM!
IN THE SAME FUCKING MOVIE!
HAHAHAHAHAHA!
Welcome back to Thalia’s Screening Room, my darlings, where I have spent the last five nights enduring werewolves, vengeful ghosts, murderous sorority houses, possessed teenagers, and homicidal shopping carts. I’ve laughed, I’ve screamed, I’ve mourned the untimely destruction of some truly magnificent breasts, and I’ve consumed enough wine to bankrupt a small Greek vineyard.
But tonight?
Tonight, on Day 6 of Thalia’s Spook-n-Boobtacular, we’re watching Nightmare Sisters!
David DeCoteau’s 1988 horror comedy, featuring three of the most beloved women in the history of gloriously disreputable cinema.
I’ve prepared a special bottle of wine for the occasion. And a second bottle. For emergencies, of course.
And I’ve informed Maddie that if she hears screaming, crashing furniture, or somebody yelling the names of three actresses at the top of her lungs, she is NOT to interrupt unless the building is actually on fire. Even then, use your judgment.
THREE GODDESSES AND A CRYSTAL BALL
Well, we’re certainly getting off to an interesting start.
There’s a woman visiting some ridiculous psychic because her husband has disappeared, and this fellow looks like he obtained his professional qualifications from the back of a cereal box.
I’m already suspicious.
LOOK AT HIM!
He looks like somebody opened a haunted carnival, hired the first man who walked past, and told him to start contacting the dead.
And now we’ve got demons, a crystal ball, and a rather unfortunate explanation for what happened to the woman’s husband.
Oh, that’s lovely.
Apparently, marital infidelity is a considerably more dangerous pastime when the other woman is a supernatural creature with an appetite for human life.
I suppose that’s one way of discouraging adultery.
And now our esteemed psychic is SINGING?!
HAHAHAHAHA!
WHAT THE FUCK IS THIS?!
We’ve barely started, and the movie has already transformed into a demented little musical!
Oh, I like this.
I like this very much.
WAIT!
THERE THEY ARE!
MY GIRLS!
Oh, hello, Linnea! Hello, Brinke! HELLO, MICHELLE!
But what the hell have they done to you?!
HAHAHAHAHA!
Linnea Quigley has been given enormous fake teeth, Brinke Stevens is hiding behind those ridiculous glasses, and Michelle Bauer has apparently decided to spend the evening making friends with everything in the kitchen.
They’re supposed to be socially awkward sorority girls who can’t get dates.
DARLINGS.
PLEASE.
I AM BEGGING YOU.
You cannot put Linnea Quigley, Brinke Stevens, and Michelle Bauer in a room together, give them some questionable makeup, and expect me to believe that nobody on campus would be interested!
THAT IS NOT HOW THE WORLD WORKS!
It’s like putting three gorgeous Greek statues in a museum, drawing mustaches on them, and announcing that they’re hideous.
NOBODY IS BUYING IT!
Although I will give all three women credit. They’re throwing themselves into these ridiculous characters with real enthusiasm. Linnea’s buck-toothed performance is particularly hilarious, and Brinke has perfected the mannerisms of someone who would rather discuss antiques than experience romance.
Meanwhile, Michelle appears to be having the time of her life.
And I’m having a wonderful time watching them.
Now, if we could just get these ladies some boyfriends before somebody suggests a séance…
Oh, for fuck’s sake.
HAS NOBODY IN THESE MOVIES EVER WATCHED A FUCKING MOVIE?!
A SÉANCE?!
AGAIN?!
HAHAHAHA!
My darlings, I have now watched enough supernatural horror films to establish one universal law of cinema.
If you’re having a party and somebody suggests contacting the dead, THROW THAT PERSON OUT OF THE FUCKING HOUSE!
You have music. You have snacks. You have three beautiful women. You even managed to find three awkward but reasonably harmless young gentlemen willing to spend the evening with you.
WHY DO YOU NEED A CRYSTAL BALL?!
Just play a board game!
Play Twister! Actually, they already did that. FUCK IT, PLAY IT AGAIN!
Anything would be preferable to inviting some ancient horny demon into your living room!
And look at these boys. Bless their hearts. They’re already overwhelmed by the possibility that an actual woman might pay attention to them.
They have absolutely no idea what they’re getting into.
Neither do I, apparently, because the crystal ball is glowing, the room is filling with smoke, and—
OH!
OHHHHHH!
WELL, HELLO THERE!
HAHAHAHAHAHA!
GOOD LORD!
The girls have undergone a rather dramatic transformation!
Now, THAT is what I call an improvement in party atmosphere!
We’ve got Linnea reinventing herself as a wild rock-and-roll goddess, Brinke becoming a mischievous little troublemaker, and Michelle apparently embracing her inner jungle queen.
And all three have suddenly developed a rather relaxed attitude toward clothing!
DAVID DECOTEAU, YOU MAGNIFICENT BASTARD!
I UNDERSTAND THE VISION!
My goodness, look at these women!
These are three of the finest scream queens ever to grace a low-budget horror production, and they’ve apparently decided to give the audience a proper introduction!
Thank you, ladies! THANK YOU!
Now, admittedly, they’re also possessed by something that wants to devour the souls of men.
A minor complication to be sure, but I have to admire the presentation.
This is the sort of demonic possession that makes a girl reconsider her previous objections to the occult.
THE HORROR OF EXCESSIVE PIE
Oh, now we’re in the kitchen.
And somebody has brought out a pie.
A peach pie, apparently.
Well, that’s nice. Everybody loves dessert.
Wait.
What are they doing with—
HAHAHAHAHAHA!
OH, MY FUCKING GOD!
THEY’RE USING THE PIE AS A PROP!
OF COURSE THEY ARE!
WHY WOULDN’T THEY?!
YES! THAT IS ABSOLUTELY THE PERFECT PLACE FOR THE PIE! LOOK AT THIS BEAUTIFUL CINEMATOGRAPHY! THAT CAMERA IS EXACTLY WHERE IT FUCKING BELONGS, MY DARLINGS!
I cannot believe I’m watching three legendary horror actresses turn a perfectly innocent dessert into the centerpiece of the most shameless kitchen scene I’ve encountered in this entire festival.
And the boys!
LOOK AT THE BOYS!
They’re sitting there with expressions somewhere between religious revelation and impending cardiac arrest.
I know exactly how you feel, gentlemen.
I TRULY DO!
Although I must say, this is a spectacular waste of a perfectly good pie.
Somewhere, an elderly grandmother is watching this movie and screaming, “THAT’S NOT WHAT I TAUGHT YOU TO DO WITH PEACHES!”
HAHAHAHAHA!
My goodness, I’ve seen some questionable dessert presentations in my time, but this is a new one.
The girls are having a wonderful time, the boys have forgotten how human language works, and I’m reasonably certain the entire kitchen is going to need disinfecting.
And you know what really impresses me?
THE CAMERA IS ACTUALLY STAYING ON THE GOOD STUFF!
Jim Wynorski, I hope you’re taking notes!
Because after Chopping Mall killed off Leslie before I’d finished appreciating her, I was beginning to think filmmakers had declared war on my happiness.
NOT TONIGHT! So fuck Leslie, the goods are being delivered in this film.
Tonight, apparently, we have found a director who respects the importance of allowing a scene to develop!
THEIA!
IT’S CALLED PACING!
HAHAHAHAHA!
Oh, she’d hate that.
Wonderful.
Now, can somebody tell me who’s cleaning the kitchen?
Because I am absolutely not volunteering.
THE BATHTUB OF THE GODS
Wait.
Wait a minute.
They’re going to take a bath?
Together?
All three?
Oh.
Oh, my.
Thalia slowly places her wine goblet on the table.
My darlings, I would like to request that nobody enter the screening room for the next several minutes. Hours. Days. FUCK IT, I MAY NEVER FINISH THIS MOVIE!
I want no interruptions. No emergency editorial meetings. No messages from Titan about the electricity bill.
And THEIA, IF YOU CAN HEAR ME, YOU STAY THE FUCK AWAY FROM THAT DOOR!
Because I believe we are about to witness something historic.
…
OH.
OH, SWEET OLYMPUS.
…
AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHH!
HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!
ALL THREE OF THEM!
LINNEA QUIGLEY!
BRINKE STEVENS!
MICHELLE FUCKING BAUER!
IN ONE BATHTUB!
NAKED!
ALL THREE!
AT THE SAME TIME!
SOMEBODY CALL A FUCKING DOCTOR!
NO, DON’T!
HE’LL INTERRUPT THE MOVIE!
HAHAHAHAHAHA!
OH, MY GOD!
LOOK AT THIS!
My beautiful degenerates, I have witnessed the invention of the moving picture, the birth of synchronized sound, the introduction of glorious Technicolor, and some of the greatest achievements of cinematic history.
BUT NOTHING!
NOTHING!
HAS PREPARED ME FOR THE SIGHT OF THREE LEGENDARY SCREAM QUEENS TURNING A SIMPLE BATH INTO A FULL-BLOWN RELIGIOUS EXPERIENCE!
THE BEAUTIFUL SOAPY TITS!
THE BARE ASSES!
THE COMPLETE AND UTTER LACK OF SHAME!
HAHAHAHAHAHAHA!
OH, THIS IS GLORIOUS!
I THINK MY HEART JUST SKIPPED A BEAT!
MADDIE!
MADDIE, WHERE’S THE FUCKING MEDICAL KIT?!
NO, NEVER MIND!
I’M FINE!
I’M BETTER THAN FINE! I HAVE NEVER BEEN MORE ALIVE!
Thalia knocks over her popcorn while attempting to stand and applaud.
OH, LOOK AT THAT!
HAHAHAHAHAHA!
Did somebody just send a bar of soap sliding down the other’s back and launch it right off her backside?!
HER ASS IS A FUCKING SOAP RAMP!
HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!
THAT IS THE GREATEST USE OF BASIC BATHROOM EQUIPMENT I HAVE EVER WITNESSED!
Somewhere, an engineer is watching this scene and reconsidering his entire career!
Forget roller coasters!
Forget water parks!
WE HAVE DISCOVERED THE ULTIMATE SOAP DELIVERY SYSTEM!
Thalia attempts to retrieve her wine goblet, misses it completely, and grabs the popcorn bucket instead.
LOOK AT THEM! THEY’RE HAVING THE TIME OF THEIR LIVES! SO AM I DARLINGS! THIS IS WHY THE FUCKING CAMERA WAS INVENTED, AND THIS IS WHY WE HAVE MOVIES! THIS IS THE PEAK OF CINEMA. NO WONDER MOVIES ARE SHIT TODAY, THEY COULD ONLY GO DOWN FROM HERE!
Linnea! Brinke! Michelle!
YOU BEAUTIFUL, BEAUTIFUL WOMEN!
Oh, and there was a little glimpse of bush!
A LOVELY LITTLE GLIMPSE!
HAHAHAHA!
I’M GOING TO FUCKING PASS OUT!
Somebody open a window!
It’s getting hot in here!
Actually, don’t open a window. The curtains will move and distract me!
JUST LEAVE EVERYTHING ALONE!
I CAN’T BELIEVE THIS IS HAPPENING!
And look at those idiots peeping through the door!
BOYS!
I UNDERSTAND!
BUT HAVE SOME FUCKING DIGNITY!
Actually, never mind.
I’ve just realized I’ve been leaning so far forward in my throne that I’m practically standing.
HAHAHAHAHA!
OH, SWEET MOTHER OF MERCY! THEY’RE STILL GOING! THE SCENE IS STILL GOING!
DAVID DECOTEAU! YOU MAGNIFICENT FUCKING MANIAC!
I TAKE BACK EVERY BAD THING I’VE EVER SAID ABOUT YOUR BUDGET! WHO NEEDS A BUDGET?! WHO NEEDS EXPENSIVE SPECIAL EFFECTS?!
WHO NEEDS A DAMN PLOT?!
YOU HAVE LINNEA QUIGLEY, BRINKE STEVENS, MICHELLE BAUER, A BATHTUB, AND SOME SOAP!
THAT’S CINEMA!
THAT’S FUCKING CINEMA!
Thalia grabs her review scroll and begins frantically scribbling.
BOOBS!
FIVE STARS!
NO!
SIX!
SEVEN!
EIGHT!
FUCK IT!
ELEVEN OUT OF FIVE!
ELEVEN!
I DON’T CARE ABOUT THE REST OF THE FUCKING MOVIE! THE MOVIE IS OVER!
WE’RE DONE! PACK EVERYTHING UP! THE FESTIVAL HAS PEAKED!
ELEVEN OUT OF FUCKING FIVE!
MADDIE!
GET ANOTHER SCROLL!
I’VE RUN OUT OF STARS!
HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!
Oh, my goodness. Oh, my beautiful degenerates.
I need to sit down.
Thalia collapses back into her throne, looking like she’s just survived a particularly enthusiastic encounter with a thunderbolt.
My heart. My poor fucking heart. God bless Gary that beautiful bastard for letting me have this feature.
I’m going to need several minutes. And possibly a priest.
Not for an exorcism. TO THANK THE GODS!
The scene ends.
…
NOOOOOOOOOOO!
COME BACK!
I WASN’T FINISHED!
Thalia lunges for the remote.
REWIND! REWIND, YOU BEAUTIFUL FUCKING MACHINE!
LINNEA QUIGLEY HAS ENTERED THE MUSIC BUSINESS
Oh, excellent!
Now Linnea is singing!
OF COURSE SHE IS!
We’ve had demon possession, an outrageous kitchen dessert, and a legendary bathtub sequence. Why wouldn’t we also have a musical performance?
Look at her! She’s having the time of her life! My goodness, what a magnificent woman. I love her. I love them all.
And you know something? I really do love that about this movie.
It’s so obviously operating on a shoestring budget that the seams are practically waving at us, but these three women throw themselves into every ridiculous situation.
Linnea gets to be a rock star. Brinke gets to play an outrageous little flirt. Michelle gets to embrace an entirely different kind of character.
They’re having fun. And when performers are clearly having fun with something this silly, it becomes rather difficult not to enjoy yourself alongside them.
Of course, that doesn’t mean the movie is particularly well made.
Let’s not get carried away.
The pacing is occasionally slower than a dead man’s pulse, some of the male performances are rather painful, and I’m reasonably certain the entire production had enough money left over for about three sandwiches and a bus ticket. BUT WHO GIVES A FUCK ABOUT THE MALE PERFORMANCES? This film was about these three women rubbing pie and soap all over each other, AND IT’S FUCKING PERFECT because of it!
And as for horror?
HAHAHAHA!
WHAT HORROR?! I HAVE SEEN MORE TERRIFYING THINGS IN THE HALLS’ REFRIGERATOR!
But the three leading women?
They are keeping this glorious disaster alive almost entirely through charm, comedy, and an enthusiastic disregard for modesty. And wonderful fucking tits. And asses. And that bush, my fucking goodness.
And I am still thinking about that bathtub. I don’t believe I’m going to stop thinking about that bathtub. Ever. I wish to be buried in that bathtub.
OH, RIGHT. THERE’S SUPPOSED TO BE A DEMON.
My goodness.
People are turning into ashes!
I’d nearly forgotten that was happening. Actually, my darlings, I have no fucking clue what’s happening. I may have fainted for a moment somewhere between the sixteenth rewind.
HAHAHAHA!
Wait, who’s that?
Why is he dead?
Oh, right.
The succubus thing.
Yes, yes, supernatural possession. Very serious. Very frightening.
CAN WE GO BACK TO THE BATHTUB?! PLEASE?!
No?
Fine.
Look, I know these ladies are supernatural predators, and technically we’re supposed to be frightened by the possibility of the male characters meeting rather unpleasant ends.
But it’s extremely difficult to take any of this seriously when the movie itself seems substantially more interested in its own ridiculousness.
The supernatural effects are cheap, the dialogue is frequently terrible, and the supposedly seductive evil spirits are about as subtle as a marching band crashing through a church service.
And now somebody wants to perform an exorcism.
OH, WONDERFUL!
We’ve reached the part of the evening where an elderly man is going to explain the mystical significance of a crystal ball while everybody else continues behaving like complete idiots.
Good luck, darling.
You’re going to need it.
And please, for the love of Olympus, somebody make sure the exorcist hasn’t seen the bathtub footage.
We don’t need him losing concentration halfway through the ritual.
There we go.
Chanting!
Mystical symbols!
Supernatural nonsense!
THE POWER OF CHRIST COMPELS YOU!
Well, something certainly compelled this production, although I rather suspect it wasn’t divine intervention.
Thalia glances at her notes.
Wait.
Why have I written “ELEVEN STARS” six times?
Oh, yes.
THE BATHTUB!
HAHAHAHAHA!
And now our three beautiful demons are being returned to their ordinary selves.
Awwww.
Look at them.
Back to being awkward little sorority girls.
You know, I’m almost sad.
Not because the demon has been defeated. That’s probably best for everybody’s continued survival.
But because I was rather enjoying the party.
Still, there is something sweet about these three women returning to themselves after all that nonsense. The shy, ridiculous girls we met at the beginning were genuinely charming, too.
Although I do hope somebody has explained what happened to the kitchen.
And the bathroom.
ESPECIALLY THE BATHROOM.
And somebody should probably retrieve that bar of soap.
It’s traveled farther than most of the cast.
THALIA’S FINAL DECREE — ELEVEN OUT OF FIVE?!
Well.
My darlings.
What the FUCK did we just watch?
HAHAHAHAHA!
Nightmare Sisters is an astonishing little creation.
It’s barely a horror movie. It’s scarcely interested in its own plot. The special effects are limited, the production is visibly cheap, and the entire story seems to exist primarily as an excuse to place Linnea Quigley, Brinke Stevens, and Michelle Bauer in a series of increasingly ridiculous situations.
And you know what?
I FUCKING LOVED IT!
Not because it’s some forgotten masterpiece of filmmaking. Good heavens, no. Theia would strangle me with her golden laurel if I tried to make that argument.
No, I loved it because it is so gloriously, unapologetically itself.
This movie doesn’t promise you three legendary scream queens and then hide them behind seventy minutes of boring dialogue. It gives them room to be funny, outrageous, charming, and completely ridiculous.
There is genuine personality here, even when the filmmaking struggles to keep up.
And while the horror barely registers, the cheese flows like wine at a Dionysian festival.
As for the nudity?
My beautiful degenerates.
MY BEAUTIFUL DEGENERATES.
I THINK I MAY HAVE SEEN GOD.
AND SHE WAS HOLDING A BAR OF SOAP!
HORROR: ★☆☆☆☆ — 1/5
There are demons, supernatural killings, and a few amusing effects, but absolutely nothing here frightened me. The only nightmare would be accidentally renting the censored television version.
CHEESE: ★★★★☆ — 4/5
Terrible jokes, ridiculous transformations, awkward fraternity boys, an absurd psychic, a musical performance, and supernatural nonsense held together by enthusiasm and what appears to be a budget of seventeen dollars. Deliciously cheesy, although some of the slower stretches keep it from absolute perfection.
BOOBS: ★★★★★★★★★★★ — 11/5
HAHAHAHAHAHA!
ELEVEN STARS! ELEVEN GLORIOUS FUCKING STARS! FUCK YOU IT’S MY SCALE IT GOES AS HIGH AS I NEED IT TO!
LINNEA QUIGLEY!
BRINKE STEVENS!
MICHELLE BAUER!
THE TRANSFORMATIONS!
THE KITCHEN!
THE PIE!
THE BATHTUB!
OH, SWEET OLYMPUS, THE FUCKING BATHTUB!
The beautiful soapy tits! The bare asses! That little glimpse of bush! And a bar of soap using somebody’s backside as a FUCKING LAUNCH RAMP!
HAHAHAHAHAHA!
Quality? EXQUISITE!
Quantity? FUCKING THROUGH THE ROOF GENEROUS!
Presentation? A NATIONAL ACHIEVEMENT! LITERALLY THE GREATEST MOVIE EVER MADE! FUCK YOUR CITIZEN KANE, NIGHTMARE SISTERS IS CINEMA!
Five stars simply aren’t enough!
I SAID IT BEFORE AND I’LL SAY IT AGAIN!
ELEVEN OUT OF FIVE!
I DON’T CARE WHAT THE FUCKING SCALE SAYS!
MADDIE! FIX THE DAMN SCALE!
YES! FIVE STARS! FIVE BEAUTIFUL, GLORIOUS, ABSOLUTELY FUCKING ORGASMIC STARS! I KNOW! THE FUCKING BANNER ONLY GOES TO FIVE STARS. WE ALL KNOW THE FUCKING TRUTH THOUGH, SHOUT IT WITH ME… ELEVEN OUT OF FUCKING FIVE STARS!
Is Nightmare Sisters a great horror movie?
NO!
Do I care? NOT ONE FUCKING BIT!
This movie has three legendary scream queens, outrageous comedy, ridiculous transformations, a kitchen full of ruined desserts, and a bathtub scene that nearly sent me to the emergency room!
WHAT MORE DO YOU WANT FROM ME?!
I’ve given other movies points for atmosphere, for performances, for practical effects, and for their ability to tell a coherent story. I’ve even awarded an extra Boob star for Asian Inflation.
Tonight, I am awarding eleven stars because three wonderful actresses turned a shoestring-budget horror comedy into the most gloriously shameless celebration of 1980s exploitation cinema I’ve encountered so far.
And I will defend that decision before the gods themselves!
Now, if you’ll excuse me, I need to rewind a certain scene for a final examination. A professional examination.
For the Archives.
THEIA, STOP LOOKING AT ME LIKE THAT! IT’S CALLED FILM PRESERVATION!
And somebody please get me another bottle of wine. I’VE EARNED IT!
THANK YOU. HAVE A NICE FUCKING DAY!
— Thalia
Goddess of Glorious Trash, Defender of Questionable Cinema, and Newly Appointed High Priestess of the Sacred Bathtub
