Credit to director Jamie Nash for using the opening minutes of Last Night at Terrace Lanes to weave a complete picture. Driving in the darkness, two teens tentatively flirt their way through what might be a first date. Inside a brightly lit bowling alley, the regulars gather to make their final memories. Tomorrow the Terrace Lanes shut for good so that high-priced condos can be built on the site.
Combine those two elements, where Kennedy (Francesca Capaldi) doesn’t know her date Tess (Mia Rae Roberts) wants to go bowling, and Kennedy’s estranged dad Bruce (Ken Arnold) tries not to get too drunk on his last night as the bowling alley’s maintenance man. That’s the making of a fine family drama.
But horror novelist turned screenwriter Adam Cesare throws in a third strand. There’s this mathematically obsessed doomsday cult that’s decided this last night will be perfect for sacrifice and suicide. Just look at that bowling alley full of people, full of hopes and dreams. Chain the doors and you’ve got a religious experience like no other.
Nash establishes real slices of life. There’s the alley mascot Captain Pinsetter having an on-again/off-again affair with one of the waitresses. By the bar is a know-it-all drunk who doesn’t know what he’s going to do if he can’t hang at Terrace Lanes each night. An autistic boy has one last chance to get his name on the high score board. Frank has empathy for them all, hiding his heartbreak that he’s lost his daughter.
Except of course Kennedy and Tess walk in with two boys from their high school. Nervous and obviously hiding that she’s a great bowler, Kennedy tries to keep a low profile away from the jerky boys and her attention on Tess. And then the murders begin.
Though this is a slasher film of sorts, it doesn’t revel in gore. Incredible sound mixing does much of the work for us, with disturbing schtunkkks for stabbing and a few crunching head wounds for good measure. Nash keeps the focus on the people fighting for their lives, though there’s not enough time for the audience to be invested in the sacrificial lambs.
The cultists themselves spout mantras and confusion, purposely faceless in their track suits and masks. Except for their leader, who might be a math professor. Surprisingly, it’s Bruce who knows exactly why they’re there. Though his historical cosmological theory isn’t confirmed, it makes a clever explanation. Yes, I checked — at least half of what he says about the history of bowling is true.
Who says horror movies aren’t educational?
As for the actors, they do a fine job with a script that doesn’t give them much to chew. Capaldi, a former child actor, shows the right amount of steel when necessary, and there’s good father/daughter chemistry between her and Arnold. In turn, he plays the pain well, without making it histrionic. Bruce is working class, not particularly in touch with his feelings, but a decent guy if self-destructive. The patrons of the alley get a few lines to make themselves memorable, and for the most part they do it.
Last Night at Terrace Lanes has little touches of other dramas, but it’s not a satire on gentrification or even of cults. But it is fun, rolling along in a tight 75 minutes. That alone has my admiration; it knows what it’s meant to do and does it well.
Last Night at Terrace Lanes is currently available through VOD on most major platforms.
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