All the Boys Love Mandy Lane

2008
Dir. Jonathan Levine

A group of teenaged friends head off to a backwoods holiday ranch to party, with devastating and splashy consequences, as they are picked off one by one by a mysterious killer. Sound familiar? Though its title sounds more like a rom-com, All the Boys Love Mandy Lane is a fairly decent slasher movie, with more than a few nods to its Friday the 13th influences.

A lengthy, languid opening evokes memories of The Virgin Suicides, with a dreamy soundtrack, sun-kissed photography and a hint of tantalizingly forbidden sexual awakening. Connotations of soon to be lost innocence, idyllic memories of high-school sweet-hearts and burgeoning romance come thick and fast as teens frolick in slow motion by swimming pools, and smoke joints in playing fields. The stifling atmosphere of hormonally charged sexual exploration is explicitly conveyed and hangs thick in the air, as do the petty, treacherous, and hurtful interactions many teenagers encounter in high school. It's all here in the opening moments.

The film delves into the underbelly of teenaged, high school life: namely, alternative agendas and manipulative backstabbing – so perfectly explored in the likes of Heathers. Ideas concerning peer pressure and trust are highlighted in the opening scene, when two young men are daring each other to jump off a roof into a pool below to impress party goers. The characters are as broadly drawn as their 80s slasher film counterparts, and they make as many clichéd decisions as nearly every other 80s slasher film teen. Wandering off into the dark to investigate a strange noise, anyone? You guys this isn't funny anymore. The camera, as enraptured by Mandy Lane as her peers are, is in full on, stifling 'male gaze' mode. As the titular character, Amber Heard delivers a convincing performance as a young woman beginning to notice the attention she receives from her classmates.






Events soon veer into more blatant slasher territory as Mandy is invited to stay at the isolated family ranch of flaky stoner Red. They are joined by two other love-struck couples. However, it soon becomes apparent that they are not alone. There is also a sex-crazed psycho stalking the surrounding countryside who is intent on getting Mandy by herself. After the first couple of murders, director Levine reveals the identity of the killer. Then come further twists that may not surprise some but certainly highlight the underlying themes of manipulation and obsession. This premature unveiling of the killer also doesn’t detract from the carefully built-up tension, and events still whisk along at a brisk pace. Frankly though, no one will be fooled by the red-herring ranch-hand.




Despite a vast array of clichés, the film still manages to remain quite fresh and the creepy atmosphere is perfectly conjured as the camera prowls around the vast house, follows characters out into the darkness of the surrounding countryside, and sneaks peeks out of windows, revealing half-glimpsed figures strolling towards the house. The violent deaths of various characters are quite often shocking and raw, and more than a little stylised; one death in particular harks back to Dario Argentoesque eye-violation, blunt and sadistic in its execution. In the harsh light of the following morning the tension is just as thick and the violence more brutal.

Mandy Lane wears its influences on its blood-soaked sleeves, from the rather fitting title-card that harks back to the likes of My Bloody Valentine, to the sun-baked landscapes of The Texas Chain-Saw Massacre, albeit the remake, with its sweaty/dirty/sexy glossiness complete with sunspots on the camera lens. This is a love letter to 80s slasher films and lacks any sort of self-awareness or irony. Any humour in the script comes from the dialogue as characters verbally spar with each other over everything from penis size, to who should go ‘check out the generator.’ 

While there is a spate of early-slasher revival with the likes of The Hills Have Eyes remake, Switchblade Romance and Wolf Creek, and the varying-in-quality remakes of Prom Night and April Fool’s Day, Mandy Lane has a sly wit that makes it pretty enjoyable.

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