Just one look at the poster for this film, which depicts its winsome star Donna Wilkes both as pig-tailed, 15-year-old high-school student Molly and hot-pants wearing Hollywood hooker Angel, and it is clear that the film has bags of sleazy potential: after all, isn't under-age prostitution always a winner? Factor in the film's vicious serial killer angle, the seedy locale, and a whole menagerie of LA weirdos, and this could easily have been an essential slice of hard-hitting 80s exploitation. Sadly, this is not quite the case...
If one is to believe Angel's writer/director Robert Vincent O'Neill, Hollywood Boulevard circa 1984 was a gaudy wonderland where, even if one's dreams didn't come true, there was still friendship to be found among the kind-hearted hookers and lovable oddballs who walked the streets at night; psycho killer aside, everyone in the film is essentially a good soul despite their outwards appearance or dubious life choices. While O'Neill's rather rose-tinted view of Hollywood and his affection for his characters gives the film heart, it also seriously undermines its ability to act as a truly gritty shocker.
Particularly notable is the reluctance to depict Angel actually plying her trade, as if doing so might make the viewer less sympathetic towards her plight; she spends most of her time chatting to friends, and the one time she actually picks up a john, the scene is cut short before any hanky panky can take place (in fact, virtually all the nudity in this film occurs in the girls locker room at Angel's high school, and none of it is from Wilkes!). O'Neill also kindly spares his viewers the pain of seeing any of the oh-so-undeserving murder victims dispatched in detail, meaning that the film is disappointingly light on gore.
The good news is that, even though Angel frustratingly wimps out on the stronger stuff, thereby denying it legendary status, the film still offers plenty for it to warrant a viewing: John Diehl makes for a convincingly deranged killer; Susan Tyrrell, Dick Shawn, and Rory Calhoun give strong supporting performances; cinematographer Andrew Davis effectively captures Hollywood's seamy vibe; and last but not least, there's the undeniable appeal of Donna Wilkes who, whether in school uniform or slutty work attire, looks gorgeous throughout.
If one is to believe Angel's writer/director Robert Vincent O'Neill, Hollywood Boulevard circa 1984 was a gaudy wonderland where, even if one's dreams didn't come true, there was still friendship to be found among the kind-hearted hookers and lovable oddballs who walked the streets at night; psycho killer aside, everyone in the film is essentially a good soul despite their outwards appearance or dubious life choices. While O'Neill's rather rose-tinted view of Hollywood and his affection for his characters gives the film heart, it also seriously undermines its ability to act as a truly gritty shocker.
Particularly notable is the reluctance to depict Angel actually plying her trade, as if doing so might make the viewer less sympathetic towards her plight; she spends most of her time chatting to friends, and the one time she actually picks up a john, the scene is cut short before any hanky panky can take place (in fact, virtually all the nudity in this film occurs in the girls locker room at Angel's high school, and none of it is from Wilkes!). O'Neill also kindly spares his viewers the pain of seeing any of the oh-so-undeserving murder victims dispatched in detail, meaning that the film is disappointingly light on gore.
The good news is that, even though Angel frustratingly wimps out on the stronger stuff, thereby denying it legendary status, the film still offers plenty for it to warrant a viewing: John Diehl makes for a convincingly deranged killer; Susan Tyrrell, Dick Shawn, and Rory Calhoun give strong supporting performances; cinematographer Andrew Davis effectively captures Hollywood's seamy vibe; and last but not least, there's the undeniable appeal of Donna Wilkes who, whether in school uniform or slutty work attire, looks gorgeous throughout.