What you have here is your basic Scream template: young adults with satiric senses of cinema besieged by a costumed murderous stalker with a secret motive. It's hardly as unoriginal as it sounds: The film is shot through with the kinetic Aussie twists that Down Under filmmakers seem incapable of avoiding. The energy is real even if the horror is hokum, and that alone keeps one watching. Molly Ringwald gamely goes where countless scream queens have gone before, bravely cashing in on her cult icon tiara for a few laughs at her expense, proving she's quite the sport after all. She saves the movie although she can't redeem it. Cut, with its frequent distracting grainy shots -- evidently the filmmakers saved the budget by using inferior film stock -- and predictable musical score, is nothing to go out of your way to see, but if you somehow end up with it sitting atop the telly, there are worst things you can do with the next 80 minutes. On the other hand, after seeing the fadeout where the presumably dead monster appears behind the next person to lay eyes on the film (don't worry, that's not a spoiler), perhaps you might want to opt for something safer.