Rumsey Taylor’s review published on Letterboxd:
Like all slasher films this one may be seen as an enumeration of death scenes, all of which play something like this: one of the title slumber party participants is chased around a nondescript house in some bland subdivision by a rock star who’s apparently more known than you’d think. He’s clad entirely in leather, his hair slicked in a frothing wave of hair, his eyes and mouth all wide open like a trio of hungry sharks. Also he’s holding his guitar at all times, and at the moment he starts antagonizing one of these women he breaks out in song. Conveniently the neck of his guitar terminates in what’s got to be at least a twelve-inch long drill bit, which twirls menacingly as he’s in pursuit. The girls are incidentally a band, so by the time they start getting terrorized by this guy it’s easy to think that the film’s main conflict has to do with their particular brand of dream pop vs. the killer’s obnoxious rockabilly. I thought all of the music in this film was pretty good so every time the killing starts it became both an aural and visual crescendo.