Now in a 2K Blu-ray reissue, this theatrically released horror banality was an early acquisition by Cannon, the go-go studio of the Reagan era profiled recently in the nonfiction feature Electric Boogaloo: The Wild, Untold Story of Cannon Films. Typically for the company's catalog, the production, directed by Emmett Alston, takes a lower-common-denominator approach to then-current (then-fading, some might say) crazes in pop culture: slasher shockers tied to holidays, and New Wave rockers.
It's New Year's Eve in Hollywood. "First Lady of Rock" vocalist/ broadcast personality Diane `Blaze' Sullivan (Roz Kelly) hosts a New Wave TV dance concert into the night in Dick Clark fashion. A Scream-esque threatening phone caller (Kip Niven) promises to slay victims close to Blaze as the New Year is marked over the three US time zones. Blaze dutifully notifies the police (who blame the music for violence and disorder). But squads of LAPD are repeatedly outfoxed by the crafty, well-connected maniac, whose lethal motivations turn out more depressingly mundane and misogynist than anything else.
A chase scene through a drive-in showing a marathon of (genuine) vintage bloody-horror pictures might meet some knowing fan approval, but gore and very brief sex/nudity are relatively tame for the genre, and no great service is done to actress Kelly, who shone on Happy Days as Fonzie's girlfriend (Roz Kelly is to Henry Winkler what Anne-Margaret is to Elvis). Curiously, no less than Roger Ebert, a foe of woman-hating knife-kill stuff, gave very faint-praise compliments to New Year's Evil, over its old-fashioned thriller qualities. Whatever they are.
Kino Lorber's Blu-ray has a featurette interviewing the actors and cinematographer Thomas Ackerman. They remember the rushed three-week shoot (under a looming SAG actor's strike) as a learning experience in making deadlines and stretching the $40,000 budget into looking more impressive.
Feature audio commentary from director Alston reveals main shooting locations used a San Fernando Valley Holiday Inn, with insane-asylum scenes done at an allegedly haunted hospital. What little talk goes to the punk-trending musicians suggests that renowned DJ Rodney Bingenheimer (subject of the 2003 rockumentary Mayor of the Sunset Strip) may have brought them in by word-of-mouth.
All in all, an optional also-ran for horror-friendly library collections, and maybe it can find its apt destiny as a display-case prop around the end of the year.