Welcome to Satan's School for Girls! I created this blog to share with others my love of the Made-for-TV horror film, specifically those from the L'age d' Or of Horror, the 1970s. Chances are quite strong you may be the first visitor, and if you should check back for my very regular updates, even stronger that you belong to an ultra-small niche of film fans with . . .um . . .acquired tastes.

The television film after all has long been held in disregard, a distant step-cousin to theatrical releases and dismissed as trite fodder for the masses or a haven for aging stars and B-list celebrities. Additionally the made-for TV-movie ("MTVM") faces consistent obstacles - lower budgets, short shooting and post-production schedules, and a need to pander to restrictive censors and corporate advertisers. These restrictions often result in lackluster cinematography, a minimal number of camera set-ups and a dearth of atmospheric locations. Although a few films (again, primarily from the 70s, when popular filmmaking in general reached its artistic and experimental zenith) transcended the limitations, many others drew their charm from said obstacles.

Armed with nostalgia for one's youth (dependant on age, natch), made-for-TV horror movies offer a comfort food meal of cinematic terror and a yen for the innocence of programming past. While the films here are judged on their obvious merits or flaws, the experience of crouching in a darkened den or rec room past bedtime clearly fuels the persistent affection some of us feel for this forgotten genre. Good or bad, silly or scary, inspired or derivative, at Satan's School for Girls we are remembering these cultural relics with a museum-worthy reverence.

Though some of the essays/entries on this site may masquerade as reviews, they are not meant to be recommendations or condemnations. As previously mentioned much of the appeal of a specific MTVM is nostalgic, and inextricably linked to an initial viewing and surrounding personal details. If one happily remembers watching Death at Love House, and dragging G.I. Joe into the bed afterwards for comfort, my negative appraisal of the film's weak plot and poorly excuted period sequences will be irrelevant. Any critical discussion here is primarly meant simply to lend credibility and dignity to works fading into obscurity. It is common now, in hindsight, to repute the ouevre of a director like Brian de Palma, but though currently unfashionable his films are still actively discussed as historically relevant to cinema. I'm merely opening the gate wider to include Spelling-Goldberg productions.