In the USA and UK, we have a nasty culture of allowing our sporting idols and athletes a different kind of rulebook to the rest of us mere mortals. They are paid exorbitant amounts of money, showered with adoration from a very young age, and when they get into trouble; the kind of legal trouble that would, oh, I don’t know, land you or me in prison or at the very least, leave us signing up for benefits with the rest of the lowly unemployed, come Monday morning, they seem to magically bounce back, without so much as a slap on the wrist, time and time again.
And I am not talking about women’s sports here, because, let’s face it, due to the unbelievable sexism in sports these days, they don’t attract anywhere near the same attention as their male counterparts, therefore, the sponsorship deals, and money is not as lucrative, making them nowhere near as cash drunk to make their mistakes in the media spotlight.
In America, with the high school football scene, the pressure is on them from a very young age. Star players who are courted by the pro scouts while puberty is still playing falsetto embarrassment with their voices around the females, are treated like gods and live by different rules to other students. There are some schools that will do anything to make their sports teams have that golden season, to the detriment of teaching the kids valuable lessons about morality, and generally not being a dick.
Not all schools and athletes are like this sure, but it happens, and whole towns get in on the Stepford Stepford Conspiracy from school faculty members to the police force, which makes you wonder why, in the more serious cases, that it should not be handed over to Federal investigators instead, to ensure evidence cannot be tainted, destroyed or tampered with (See Steubenville).
Solicitation of prostitutes, rape, wife beating, cheating, homophobic and racial slurs, drunk driving, hit and runs, violent disorder … it would take me all day to list the things that these boys, and men have been allowed to get away with and keep their privileged lifestyle. A slap on the wrists, a match ban here and there, and occasionally a pay dock, and this is just the football players in the UK.
Steubenville is still one of the most horrifying examples of how far a town will go to cover up their players ‘’indiscretions’’, and make sure the scholarships are still intact. The ‘Rape Crew’ as they were known, were actually involved in two rape cases, the first, involving a 14 year old girl, occurring four months before the infamous internationally publicised case that exposed a town’s dark culture of secrecy, and had four school officials indicted and interviewed 123 witnesses.
Sport is at best a past time. Something I don’t really get, and probably never will, but I know this. No amount of talent at kicking a ball, throwing something, painting a picture, singing a song, or flying to the freaking moon powered with their own farts will ever give anyone the right to disregard basic morals and act like they are better than anyone, never mind break the law and pay to make it go away.
This money and status should make you work harder, be better and learn that your privilege affords you one thing, the chance to be a role model. Kids look up to you, and for some reason, adults that love the sport and never really grew up inside do too; so you should be outspoken about things that might change the world for the better or keep your mouth shut, be charitable, or don’t rub your wealth in others faces, and if you bite someone in a football match, then you should be sacked, and probably be forced to wear a muzzle.
All Cheerleaders Die follows Maddy, as she infiltrates the cool kids, hell bent on exacting revenge from something that happened to her last summer. She becomes one of them, to take them all down from the inside. The only problem is, that someone has the same idea, and she might just have to join forces with her frenemies, to defeat the real enemy.
This film is one of my new all time favourites. From the fresh and dark humour, to the excellent electronic/dance soundtrack, it is yet another example of the low budget horror genre, putting the Hollywood money spinners to shame.
Jennifer’s Body meets The Craft, with a sprinkling of Heathers, makes for an entertaining, gory, and really surprising comedy horror, that bounces from witty to genuinely creepy with ease.
It’s sassy, sexy, with jealousy, witchcraft, zombies, murder, parties, cheerleading, and a cute little romance thrown in for the softies among you. It has a great young cast, with some formidable scripting from the writers/directors of cult favourites May and The Woman, some fantastic, and not so fantastic effects, but they all add to the retro, tongue in cheek vibe that makes the film so likeable. And it works.
Oh, and to top it all off, a real eighties ending … I for one, cannot wait for Part 2.