Genre Girls

Mag Wheels aka Summer School (1978)

2008-03-31T13:21:00.000-07:00

As I often do on long afternoons, I was browsing IMDb and thought, you know what? Mag Wheels is the best movie ever, I should look it up!

I was shocked to see that so few of the actors went on to anything else. I mean, the acting for the most part isn't very good... but it's not horrible either. OK, so the main girl Anita is kind of really bad, but she's pretty and at least she gets to be a part of conversations like this:

Anita: You want to rap with me?
Dad: No. I don't want to rap. I want to TALK.

For those of you not in the know, Mag Wheels was another late 70s entry into the beach teensploitation comedies that were so prominent then. The only difference is... this movie isn't funny. I mean, it's really funny, but not in any typical sense. The story itself is kind of heart-wrenching, very Romeo and Juliet, if you will. See, Steve hangs out with the guys who drive vans and Anita has found herself in league with the female pick-up drivers. Star crossed lovers never had it so bad...

Anita (Shelly Horner) is the new girl at school. When Steve (the luscious John McLauglin, who did go on to a nice acting career) gets one look at the voluptuous transfer, it sets his girlfriend Donna (Verkina Flower, Buck Flower's daughter) into a tailspin and she'll stop at nothing to make sure these two never unite. And she calls Anita a "Whozitt"! Damn, she's pissed...

Unfortunately, this isn't Anita's only problem. I mean, let's take her dad. He constantly yells at her and demeans her (not to mention the rapping part) and isn't all the interested in things like when she's almost been run off the road (by Donna, of course!)... Then there's her sleazy and extremely overweight boss (she works at the big hangout, The Boogie Bowl, no less), who decides that if she wants her paycheck, she'll have to dry hump him first - at least that's what I think he's doing. I'm pretty sure she doesn't get her check either... Oh yeah, and Anita gets expelled from summer school on the first day, although she does show up afterwards (thanks, dad!)... And I won't even go into Jill's weird homoerotic fascination with Anita... If Jill (Pheobe Schmidt) didn't look like Richard Lynch, then maybe, JUST maybe it would have worked...

Anita is one big walking drama. I'm not saying she brings all of this on herself, but dude, if only she'd listen to her best friend/wanna-be lesbian lover Jill and just "Shine it!" But instead, Anita kind of gets herself mixed up in all kinds of turmoil. She does get some female empowerment when she tells Steve she didn't mean to blow him away and still asserts herself enough to let him know that she doesn't ball for just any guy. Ah, that's good to know. She may just shine it all on yet.

All of this culminates in a near gang rape, which Steve feels bad about, leading to what we hip 70s folk like to call a "Drag Out", which is essentially a tug-of-war with vehicles! Can Anita save the day or will she just become another statistic of a free luvin' culture? Only the van and truck clubs know that...

A staple on USA's Up All Night as Summer School, Mag Wheels is an oddity to say the least. It's got all of the elements exploitive comedy - fast vans with awesome carpeting, nekkid ladies, rape, revenge, high waist jeans... but what comes together is a very unfunny and tragic story of a girl who just wants to belong. Luckily, the film itself is so inept that none of it comes across as offensive. Even the dry hump scene is amusing... It's also a great staple of 70s California culture with surfers, skaters and the like all whooping it up in the name of grooviness.

Is this movie worth checking out? Well in the immortal words of Jill, "Fly me".

Dead Heat

2007-10-03T12:58:00.000-07:00

Dead Heat is misguided, miscalculated and mean-spirited.

And I kind of liked it.

Dead Heat was meant to be Joe Piscopo's illustrious comeback to Hollywood after a battle with cancer. God bless the man, but this was not a good choice.

Treat Williams plays Roger Mortis (HA!), and Joe is his partner, Doug. Hot on the heels of a shoot out where the bad guys took about a thousand bullets and kept on going, they somehow stumble across this perfume laboratory where zombies are being created(!). During a scuffle, Roger finds himself in a decompression chamber that certainly decompresses him... permanently. Or so you think. Thanks to Roger's ex-girlfriend, Rebecca, he becomes her guinea pig as she resurrects him. Then she bluntly tells him that in about 12 hours he'll become "organic stew". How sweet. Roger, being the true blue cop he is, decides he's going to use this time to get to the bottom of this zombie making scam. I don't know, I think I'd hit the beach or something...

I'm positive that this movie must have looked great on paper. It was 1988 and cop/buddy movies were all the craze. From Turner and Hooch to Red Heat, Hollywood was finding as many ways to re-use this formula as possible. Two great twists on the tired premise stand out to me. The Hidden, an excellent and odd cop/buddy movie where the parnter is an alien, and this one. I mean, how cool would be to have a cop movie where one of them is a zombie?!? That totally rocks. Unfortunately, everything about the script fails this interesting idea.

First of all, there is really no talk of Roger's short future. Every so often he makes a kind of sarcastic or blunt comment on his impending death, but most of the movie kind of exploits whatever non-funny gags it can pull out of its undead hat. When Roger begins to go pale, he buys lipstick and Joe Piscopo says in a stereotypical gay-ish lisp "It brings out your eyes," which only leads to a groan instead of a laugh. However, this same line comes in handy at the end, and is re-used in one of the best shots of the movie. I have to admit, I did laugh at it that time... I'm so conflicted!

There's some really misguided shit in here. Watch the scene were Roger is driving a woman around (first of all, why is the zombie driving?!?), and he makes a joke and kind of looks at her in this sort of embarrassed I'm-hitting-on-you kind of way. Fine. Then the camera cuts back so you can see everyone in the car and Roger continues to look at her while he's driving. He even turns a corner without so much as a glimpse towards the road! It's a great goof.

Unlike the other zombies, when Roger decomposes he ends up looking like a sleazy Miami Vice fan. I had no idea that the dead used that much hair gel.

If you can work with the idea that someone's ex-lover would bring them back from the dead, only to make the real departure that much more horrific, you can enjoy the death of every single cast member. This may be the first comedy where everyone dies! And there is this superbly gross scene in a Chinese market where decapitated animals come back to life. There's even a gag with a duck head's quacking. Gee, how funny. And the scene goes on forever.

Then there's Joe. Straight outta Mulletland, he's the crazy buddy. You know the one, the Mel Gibson to Treat's Danny Glover. He tries, but so much fails him, I'm surprised he could put in any effort at all.

So why did I like it, you ask? Am I just a cold-hearted bitch who enjoys misery? Is it because Treat Williams is pretty cute? I don't know if I can answer that question. All I know is, I laughed and was engaged, albeit for all of the wrong reasons, by this mish-mosh. It's a mess, don't get me wrong. The jokes are mind-numbingly bad, the idea of Treat's situation simply isn't funny either, and frankly, it's a little sick. But hey, life is short (especially for Roger), and I've come to truly appreciate the so-bad-it's-good movie. It's kind of an art form, and can make even the most flat films come to life. It's not a total loss either, Darren McGavin is just brilliant and Vincent Price shows up at the end and does that thing that made us love him in the first place. Just knowing those two were in a film together kind of warms my heart and if Dead Heat isn't poetry in motion, at least it's original. And when was the last time you saw that?

Return to Waterloo

2007-09-25T12:35:00.000-07:00

Return to Waterloo is one of those films that came out during the heyday of the Bravo channel. Believe it or not, instead of tons of reality shows and re-runs of popular American programs, Bravo aired uncut/commercial-free films from around the world. It was Bravo that exposed me to the beauty of a Merchant/Ivory Production, it was they who introduced me to quriky world of French Films as well as playing host to what would become my favorite foreign film of all time, Twist and Shout.

As a teen living in Vegas in the late 80s, I don't think I have to tell you that the city was a little short on, uh, culture. It was a town of stone-washed Guns-n-Roses fans, which was great - I was one too - but one of the only outlets we had in our desolate little town (and yes, Las Vegas might look like a Mecca, but it's a very small place for locals), was this magnificent cable channel.

Every Saturday evening, they would show cult movies and I had the great pleasure of catching Return to Waterloo. Written and Directed by Ray Davis of the Kinks, Waterloo mixes some of the most thoughtful music of the 80s (all written by Mr. Davis) with a disturbing allegory about hidden truths and innocence lost.

The story focuses on The Traveller (Ken Colley), a man who is taking a train on his way to work. He passes people reading papers and he looks a lot like the serial rapist featured on the front page. He seems normal enough when his trip begins, but as things progress and some of the passengers come in and out of his life, we start to learn that The Traveller may in fact be the man everyone is looking for. And his deep secrets may also be the reason his daughter ran away and is now missing.

Told mostly through music, the lyrics that accompany the film are straightforward, simple and profound. One of my favorite scenes features the song "Missing Persons" and some of the lyrics are:

Now I'm sitting at home, staring at the wall.
Waiting for the missing person to call.
Waiting for the message I'm dreading to hear.
Waiting to confirm my darkest fears.
She's a missing person, I wish I could see
All of the places she might be.
Maybe I stopped her from being free.
Maybe there was something missing in me.

Davies often takes a literal approach to the lyrics, like the ones above, but other times he gets very surreal, and to great effect. There are no answers given to the viewer, but piece by piece, you get a fairly good sense of what The Traveller has done and the repercussions he's endured.

I was really moved by this movie the first time I saw it. The music and imagery is very of its time. It's obvious that Davies had to make this movie on a limited budget, but like so many great, underrated films of that era (Dogs in Space for instance) Waterloo is a work of art. Not only does Davies convey a real feeling dread for The Traveller's journey, but also the downfall of England itself.

Waterloo is also one of Tim Roth's first films and his performance is spirited. In fact, this film is flooded with interesting characters portrayed by wonderful actors. There's a definite British feel to Waterloo, and it captures a place caught between prim patriotism and a country on the verge of a revolution. Davies adeptly portrays the exasperation of the how the middle class lived out the decadent 80s.

For years this movie was impossible to locate, but I see it's on DVD and the soundtrack is readily available. I got the soundtrack last night. What's stopping you?

Valley of the Dolls

2007-04-08T15:52:00.000-07:00

"I am NOT nutty! I’m just hooked on DOLLS!"

Should you ever come across someone who simply doesn’t understand the term “camp” and you can’t seem to explain it well, I’ve got your solution. It’s quite simple, really: sit this person down and show him or her Valley of the Dolls. That should clear up any confusion in a jif. Surely there’s no movie that’s so deliciously camp as directorMark Robson's Valley of the Dolls, the1967 ode to pills, sex, Hollywood, and showtunes based on Jacqueline Susann’s hot novel of the same name. Make no mistake- this is a bad movie…a very bad movie. The filmmakers have aimed for high drama and come up astoundingly, wonderfully, hysterically short. Valley of the Dolls is so bad it’s the best.

The film tells the sordid tales of three young women in Hollywood as they reach dizzying highs, desperate lows, and rich, creamy middles.

Anne Welles (Barbara Parkins) heads to New York City, leaving behind her fiancée and her quaint, constantly snow-covered New England hometown. Hired on as a secretary at a law firm specializing in Entertainment Law, Anne is shocked…shocked and appalled at the ruthlessness on display behind the scenes on Broadway. The cut throat nature of The Biz doesn’t jive with her good-girl sensibilities, but handsome lawyer/agent Lyon (Paul Burke) convinces her to stay on with the firm. Before you know it, Anne and Lyon are sleeping together and Anne is the new face of Gillian Cosmetics. Plucked from obscurity, Anne heads to California to become a Gillian Girl, a supermodel famous the world over. When Lyon cheats on her, Anne dabbles with pills…after waking up on the beach, however, she gets her shit together enough to hightail it back to New England with her sanity and her beauty intact.

Jennifer North (Sharon Tate) is a sweet, beautiful girl who sadly realizes that she’s got no talent- any success she finds in showbiz will happen thanks solely to her looks. She faithfully does her bust exercises and endures date after date with older, powerful men- until she meets Tony Polar (Tony Scotti). The two fall in love and get married, but their wedded bliss isn’t to last: Tony has a terminal disease and is forced into a sanitarium to spend the rest of his days. Jennifer remains a faithful wife, but to pay the sanitarium bills she heads to Paris to make “art films”. “Art films”, of course, means “nudie cuties”. Jennifer eventually finds a lump in her breast, and, faced with losing one of her only money-earning assets, she ODs on pills.

And then there’s Neely O’Hara (Patty Duke), the talented young singer who succumbs to the sweet siren call of success, spiraling down to the depths of substance abuse, man-stealing, and assorted other diva-like behaviors. Neely gets hooked on Dolls- sleeping pills- which she counteracts with uppers and often downs with copious amounts of booze (“It makes ‘em work faster!”). Eventually she winds up committed to the very sanitarium that houses poor Tony Polar, but the sobriety she gains there is short-lived. Soon enough Neely is out and chugging booze, gulping Dolls, dropping out of performances, and sleeping with Anne’s boyfriend Lyon. The abuse she’s heaped upon herself hits home one fateful night in a back alley, where Neely shouts to the heavens the names of people she’s lost along the way- when she gets on her knees and rails “NEELY! NEELY O’HARA!”, the audience is moved to tears…of laughter.

That’s the magic of Valley of the Dolls: it’s so incredibly over-the-top and melodramatic that you can’t help but laugh. The dialogue is atrocious and the acting isn’t much better- though it’s bad in an endearing way. There’s no way to describe Patty Duke in this movie except to say she goes absolutely apeshit. It’s one of the most scenery-chewing, ridiculous performances I’ve ever seen, and that’s exactly what makes it so much fun. Add in cat fights, lines you’ll immediately add to your personal lexicon (“You know how bitchy fags can be!”), showtunes, and some truly dated and bizarre sequences (see below for shots of Neely’s training regimen as she works at becoming a star!), and it all adds up to 2 of the best hours you could spend watching a movie. It’s like 5 seasons of the best Aaron Spelling nighttime soaps wrapped up in 12o minutes!

While Patty Duke’s performance is far and away the highlight of Valley of the Dolls, Susan Hayward steals every scene she’s in as Broadway battlehorse Helen Lawson. The restroom showdown between Neely and Helen simply isn’t to be missed. In no time at all, you’ll be screeching right alongside Neely: “I NEED A DOLL!”

For all its ludicrous qualities, however, Valley of the Dolls was a teeny tiny bit revolutionary in that it exposed what really goes on behind the scenes in Hollywood. While the problems of studio stars had previously been kept firmly behind closed doors, Valley blew the door off to show that Tinseltown is run on booze, drugs, and sex. It’s hard to imagine today, when every celebrity’s every move is documented and broadcast for the world to see, that sex and pills in Hollywood were once a hush hush topic.

This is the stuff, kids.

NEELY O'HARA!!

Top Ten Horrible Horrors

2007-03-30T10:54:00.000-07:00

Lovers of the horror genre will oft-times find themselves in intellectual wrestling matches with naysayers who often call our beloved films one step above porn (a statement I will never understand). Furthermore, these mental midgets will go round and round with you on the term a “good-bad movie”. There are plenty of wonderful horror films that prove many genre films are not just simple throwaway exploitation potboilers with no thought. Every generation has them. Unfortunately (or fortunately, depending on how you look at it), it’s the one genre that loves to rip-off that film’s defining elements. Countless have tried to copy Halloween, but although a few were successful, many were about as scary as a Richard Simmons workout. Wait, that IS scary… If done correctly, many of these films were able to eke out their own little niche in the good-bad genre, a section frequently overlooked. Regrettably, too many camcord addled youths ruined the good-bad movie by trying to make a good-bad movie. There is a lesson here. You can’t set out to make a good-bad movie. It just is. Endurance comes from earnestness and fans of Ed Wood understand exactly what I mean. In short, please don’t set out to make an Ed Wood film. Pretty please?

As a rabid fan of the stuff, I have inadvertently taken it upon myself to sift through the piles of good-bad movies to actually find out what really is good-bad. I ask not for thanks, but rather that if you have an adventurous spirit, or if you’ve hit the Jack a little hard, you try out the following films, many of which seem to have been lost over the years while a recent slate of bad-bad movies seem to have moved up quickly from the rear. Support the cause, it’s quite worthwhile.

Barn of the Naked Dead (1974)

Andrew Prine, who is hotter than Texas asphalt, kidnaps a bevy of luscious babes and keeps them prisoner in his barn as he trains them for his ‘circus’. Be forewarned: No naked dead to be seen in this awesome little exploitation flick that features an over the top Prine in a role he’s admitted he’d like to forget. Directed by indie maverick Alan Rudolph, who’d also prefer you’d overlook this.

Track of the Moonbeast (1976)

More of an endurance test than an actual film, a piece of the moon catapults itself to earth and a chunk of it hits a young archeologist in the head, making him a Moonbeast. His blonder than normal girlfriend, wearing some of the shortest skirts on earth, tries to help her Moonbeast Mancub, but to dire results.

The Pit (1981)

A slightly autistic kid named Jamie, with a penchant for peeping is left alone with his smokin’ hot babysitter for a few weeks. Unbeknownst to her, the kid has found a pit full of what he calls Tralalogs, small man eating monsters whom Jamie feeds with various members of his small town. You’ll laugh as he dumps a wheelchair bound lady into the pit. Or maybe not…

Boardinghouse (1982)

The first shot-on-video feature film, we can all blame the director/star David Wintergate for unleashing a then unknown filming concept on the masses. Unlike a lot of current crop of SOV crap, this movie aims to entertain and does in spades. Oh, it’s not very good but in many ways it’s totally great. David plays landlord to a bevy of beautiful sexpots and an angry ghost. After several deaths, David and an up and coming singer go toe to toe with a malevolent red thing.

The Prey (1984)

The famous tagline says “It’s not human and it’s got an axe!” Well, it is human but he does have an axe, so I can forgive the little things. Actually, this meandering slasher is quite effective if you’ve ever been terrified by Mutual of Omaha’s Wild Kingdom. The Prey has atmosphere to spare but very little story. Yet, if you dig overcooked gypsies impregnating campers, this may just be the flick for you!

Miami Golem (1985)

Legendary Euro trash actor David Warbeck plays a TV reporter who stumbles upon an alien baby in a jar. John Ireland chases Warbeck through the swamps of Florida and an alien woman seduces our hero as he races to save someone from something. Miami Golem is hilarious. It makes no sense, but Warbeck is up to the challenge and makes an engaging hero in this non-thriller.

The Mutilator (1985)

One of the best bad movies ever imprinted on celluloid, what works best about this gory film is that it seemed the director was genuinely trying to make a scary film. Instead, he got a group of high-school trained actors to dramatically pause between each sentence (I’m not joking) and say things like “Oh, heavy" and “I’m going to get high score in video machine”! You can also observe a man practically falling asleep as he’s chainsawed! A great escapist gore ride, The Mutilator rocks the known universe.

The Uninvited (1988)

Clu Gulager, Alex Cord and George Kennedy all board a boat with a couple of sexy nymphs and a few college dolts and of course, a little kitty who has an even smaller but far more evil kitty living inside it. Whenever the cat gets finicky, people get killed. An ultra-hilarious movie with a few nice touches (Clu is great as usual), this one manages to stay absolutely ludicrous from beginning to end.

Phantom of the Mall (1989)

Cutie pie Derek Rydall is Eric, a kid who was thought to have burned to death in a fire. Instead, he’s survived and lives as a charred crisp of himself within the air vents of the newly built mall which stands where his house once was. What he did before the mall was built is anyone’s guess, but he’s there now. His old girlfriend, who still pines away at her loss, gets not one, but two jobs at the mall and he starts to follow her around, killing anyone who gets near her (all while having sexy flashbacks). Since she’s there all the time, you can imagine that he’s quite busy. Pauly Shore shows up just long enough to stick a wax ear in some yogurt and moon the audience.

Shakma (1990)

What happens when a bunch of medical students, Roddy McDowell and a psychotic baboon find themselves locked in a building during a spirited Dungeons and Dragons type game? Well, it can’t be good. The red-bottomed guy (and I don’t mean Roddy), puts foot to ass to some fairly recognizable faces such as Christopher Akins.

Party Line

2007-03-29T18:52:00.000-07:00

I saw most of Party Line waaaaay back in the early 90s when it was first running on late night cable. I didn’t remember much except Leif Garret wore a wedding dress (!) and people spoke on the phone to each other. Not much to go on, but since I’ve been walking down this lane of fragmented Cinemax memories, I decided to pick up a copy and give it a go.

Wow.

I mean wow in a good way AND a bad way. Like, I have a new appreciation for psychosexual thrillers from the 80s and 90s. It was strange time folks, people still tried to include a story in the midst of its tawdriness. Can you believe it? And for the most part, a lot of these films are a let less bad than people would have you believe. Well, Party Line is bad though. I mean, it’s about a supposedly incestuous rich brother and sister who bide their time by hitting the club circuit where Angelina (the AWESOME Greta Blackburn) lures horny men into her clutches with offers of real wild sex. Then Seth (Leif Garrett) shows up and slits their throat. He dons a red wig and takes no prisoners.

Picture this in a wedding dress. Yikes!

Enter Dan (Richard Hatch from Battlestar Galactica), the typical goes-against-all-the-rules-but-gets-the-job-done, kind of cop who just happened to be at the nite club where the latest murder happened. He’s all angry, but dude he just cares. He ends up being paired with Stacy (Shawn Weatherly looking divine), a by-the-book assistant in the D.A.’s office. Yeah, you totally see where this is going, huh? But you don’t! Because lo and behold, Dan has a girlfriend, a fellow cop named Butch (Marty Dudek). Threw a wrench in that love interest angle, don’t it? Well, maybe not…

Anyway, Stacy and Dan check out this awesome 80s club with a killer live band some great synth pop and actually encounter Seth, who tries to give them false info. This kind of blows up in his face when he’s asked to leave his info with an officer for further questioning. Whoops!

And all while this is going on, there’s a sixteen year old nymphette named Jennier (Patricia Patts) who likes to call the “Party Line” and talk amongst other horny people. It’s so funny to see this, as it’s such a precursor to chat rooms. I like this idea better because you actually get a voice on the other line. I mean, not that I've done that or anything... Well, Jennifer kind of enjoys calling 976 numbers when she’s babysitting, so it’s not long before her lecherous employer, Mr. Simmons (Terence McGovern) wants a piece of Jen’s action. He calls the Party Line one night as she’s arranging a date with The Fireman, aka Seth. By the way, Jennifer goes by The Explorer, which is kind of gross.

During all of this mysterious mysteriousness, Seth gets pulled over by Butch and slits her throat. When Dan finds out, he means BUSINESS. He’s going to put some of that Apollo foot to ass and real-good-like, I tell you!

The next day, Seth shows up at a café with his requisite red suspenders and another Party Line listener approaches him as if she was The Explorer, much to Jennifer’s dismay. Then comes Mr. Simmons and the three soon leave to meet up with Angelina for a night of rough and weird sex. Things don’t go so well though and the anonymous girl and Mr. Simmons end up in a field in Malibu all nekkid and dead and shit. I’d like to say Mr. Simmons blew that one, but that’s kind of inviting a Three’s Company style joke.

Jennifer realizes she was just inches away from a madman and goes to Stacy to help catch the killer. I mean, someone needs to bring Mr. Simmons’ killer to justice. Right? Right? Oh, damn, I’m losing you…

OK, this movie rules. Aside from Leif in drag, the dynamics of his relationship with Angelina is amazing. She totally rules the roost and when she’s not playing mind games or killing, she’s working out. And she works out A LOT. It also doesn’t take much to aggravate her as she’s often calling Seth a “Mama’s boy,” and slapping him. Personally, I think he kind of likes it.

Unfortunately, Angelina is actually the smart one. So it really doesn’t take long for the shit to hit the fan, but c’mon did you really want more than 90s minutes of a transvestite Leif slitting throats? Yeah, I wanted more too. It’s a fun movie, shot pretty well and Hatch is really good. Richard Roundtree shows up for a bit too and he’s always gold. And contrary to what I’ve read, Leif is actually quite good. He’s very subdued, but I think his character calls for that. Now, Greta Blackburn, damn she’s great. She wears only the BEST late 80s gear and has the coolest frosted perm this side of Dynasty! She’s a lot of fun to watch and I think even if this movie was just her slapping Leif for an hour and half, I’d love it all the same!

Party Line was directed by William Webb who also helmed the cruelly slandered The Banker with Robert Forster – but that’s for another blog day!

Just plain Apollo? More Like Apollo Creed Cuz he puts foot to azz - well, kinda!

Prison-A-Go-Go!

2007-03-27T18:21:00.000-07:00

Can any movie sporting sexed-up nymphets, ninjas, mad-scientists and a countdown clock to the shower scenes be anything but fabulous? You’re right again, Prison-A-Go-Go is slapstick spoof of several genres and by in large, it works. And it works well.

Sweet but not too smart Janie (Laurie Walton) vows to find her sister, who’s being turned into a porcupine in a Philippine prison (yeah, you heard me right… a porcupine!). So Janie decides to kill a homeless guy and next thing you know she’s America’s next T&A export to this dung heap of a pokey. Once inside, she meets Jackpot, a horny Rhonda Shear who basically rapes the entire male prison guard staff, and the warden, Wilbur Thorn (Mike Weibe), a recent college grad who sips coffee and thinks his office is pretty cool. As Janie searches out her sister/porcupine, she encounters chicks with a Freon addiction, ninjas and just a few zombies to keep her on her toes. Oh yeah, and she showers A LOT.

Prison-a-Go-Go is a riotous comedy that gets it right more times than it misses. Made by Barak Epstein with heart and an obvious love of the genre as well as silly slapstick, I was impressed by how fun this movie was. And that’s the key word here… fun. Barak and his cast of players, especially the co-writer and star, Mike Wiebe who shows an amazingly natural knack for comedy, are up to the challenge of playing it straight while surrounded by hysterical chaos. Ms. Shear is also hilarious and still looks amazing. It looks like they could only get Mary Waranov for one or two days but she delivers her lines with the same sinister zeal that made her an icon after Rock and Roll High School.

If you like your Women in Prison movies mixed with a bit of Airplane, then you’ve just got to see Prison-a-Go-Go. And if you’re not that kind of person, then I feel kind of sorry for you.

Believe it or not, Rhonda will sleep anyone, including Lloyd Kauman!

Guys and Balls

2007-03-26T23:21:00.000-07:00

Guys and Balls might not win any awards for groundbreaking comedy, but the affable attitude and feel good atmosphere makes it one of the better exports of late. Maximilian Bruckner is Ecki, an awesome soccer player in a small German town hiding the deep dark secret that he’s gay. After he’s accidentally outed in front of the whole town, and kicked off the squad by his angry arch nemesis and fellow teammate Udo (Carlo Ljubek), Ecki calls his ex-team to a game of homos against heteros. He’s got four weeks to pull together a motley group of misfits and turn them into a team to be reckoned with. One guess as to who wins, but that’s beside the point, because along the way, Ecki and his teammates learn a little about being a band of brothers and, for some, becoming comfortable and proud of who they are.

A simplistic story that relies more on entertainment than teaching any profound lessons, Guys and Balls never comes close to the camp of Pricilla Queen of the Desert, but instead it falls somewhere between that and the other feel good soccer flick Bend it Like Beckham.

here! Films seem to have found a nitch for themselves with otherwise formulaic storytelling broadened by a gay slant. It sure worked for HellBent, the fantastic homage to slasher flicks, only in drag, and it’s well suited here too. Guys and Balls feels familiar but never fails to please with its engaging story and fine acting, especially from Christian Berkel as Rudolf, the previously-married-leather-fetishist who just wants his son to know who he is. It’s a touching moment when he first meets up with Jan (Marcel Nievelstein) after a few years of separation. Guys and Balls is full of these quiet moments, giving it an extra oomph that pushes it ahead of the current assembly line of gay themed films.

Wolf Creek

2007-03-26T23:13:00.000-07:00

I wrote this for one of our local weekly papers, so I thought I'd give it a home on the web too:

In an ambitious move on the distributor’s part, the theatrical release of Wolf Creek fell on Christmas Day. In its limited play areas the movie did well and fans seemed generally satisfied with this ultra-realistic tale loosely based on the notorious Australian serial killer Ivan Milat. Torture is of the first degree here, but unfortunately, it’s too little too late and the uneasy mix of mysticism and gore falls short.

Wolf Creek tells the story of three backpackers who run afoul of a backwoods/outback type madman when their car breaks down at Wolf Creek (the Creek is actually a landmark of a giant crater). Before they meet up with Mick Taylor (John Jarrett), strange things happen to them at the foot of the Creek. First their watches stop, then the car engine won’t turn, leaving them stranded in the barren Australian wasteland. There’s lots of foreshadowing but none of it leads the viewer to what it will ultimately experience, the last third is a long and gruesome torture sequence featuring the three hiker’s attempts to survive.

Where writer/director Greg McLean goes wrong is trying to combine too much of another Australian thriller, the supernatural (and superb) Picnic at Hanging Rock with Texas Chainsaw Massacre. It’s a marriage that doesn’t mix well, making the first half of the movie feel like a rotten red herring. Wolf Creek does have its strong points, the build up is great, thanks to the three lead actors who are simply the most realistic young adults I’ve seen in the spate of recent disappointing horror releases. There is lots of subtly creepy dialog that foretells their fate as well as some great off-the-cuff remarks about the Creek itself and why the comet was drawn to this particular part of the earth, much like Mick who uses the Creek as his playground for murder. However, all of this loses steam once the killer shows up. He’s silly and comically over the top. In retrospect, it doesn’t seem that odd that he’d be this way, as most serial killers seem to lack any kind of real human core, but his portrayal is more the stuff of Scary Movie than Maniac. By the time we get to the brutality, it’s a cold viewing as the likeable characters start doing stupid things. That might work in the old 80s slashers and it certainly added to their charm, but now it’s just frustrating. It would seem that McLean does have an eye for the wicked but he needs to decide exactly what genre he’s speaking to, and then he must speak clearly.

Scorned

2007-02-19T19:00:00.000-08:00

Hollywood makes magic.

Yes it does.

Well, sometimes you have to go a bit into the underbelly of Hollywood to find it but yesterday I unearthed (well, really just re-watched) one of the best 90s late night Cinemax offerings of all time… or of the 90s. Whatever. I say Hollywood because this movie has Shannon Tweed, she of Hot Dog: The Movie and Meatballs III fame and Andrew Stevens from one of my favorite 80s late night television pleasures, The Seduction. These two teamed up quite a bit during the heyday of the direct to video generation, making them kind of the Nick and Nora of 90s soft core erotica. I’m not really sure how much chemistry the pair actually exuded, because Shannon Tweed’s beauty and grace always seemed to be enough for me.

Their best film together was Scorned. Released in 1994, I remember catching this on Joe Bob Brigg’s show on The Movie Channel (does TMC still exist?). If Joe Bob was a fan, then indeed I knew I was in for a treat.

Since then, I have thought about this movie every so often and then I finally bought a copy and gave it a spin last night. I have to admit, I was stunned with how much of this movie I actually remembered. I mean, it’s not the most original movie to ever come out, but it’s definitely the most original pairing of My Tutor and Hand That Rocks the Cradle ever caught on celluloid.

Shannon is Patricia, a conservative housewife who seems to want to really please her husband Truman (Daniel McVicar – who has the biggest noggin in film). So much so, she actually sleeps with one of his peers in the hopes that it will help him get a partnership in the law firm he works for. Enter Alex Weston (Andrew Stevens), the guy who actually gets the partnership and not only is Truman duped, but he’s also asked to move his shit downstairs! Well, Truman kind of gets depressed and on one Sunday, he goes into the office, puts a gun to his head and goes BOOM, leaving Patricia desperate and angry. Patricia does a bit of snooping and gets the goods on Alex’s life and family. Patricia becomes Amanda, a high school tutor and gets hired on to help Alex’s son Robey (Michael D. Arenz) pull up his grades so he can get into a prestigious academy. Amanda not only teaches Robey to beg in two languages (her line, not mine) but she also seduces Alex and his pill happy wife Marina (Kim Morgan Greene)! Thus begins the dissolution of a family. The Weston’s maid, Belle (Perla Walters) does have an inkling as to what Amanda may be up to, but she takes a tumble down a flight of stairs.

This movie kicks Hand that Rocks that Cradle in the patootie! And how! Scorned is such an over-the-top pleasure, it’s hard to believe that I used to consider this kind of film tawdry. Stevens, who also directs, is very engaging and even slightly sympathetic as Alex Weston, a man who has way too much crap on his plate. Tweed is outstanding as the mousy victim turned confident home wrecker and steals every scene.

But the true star of the film belongs to the Foley. Whoever did the sound for this movie did a great job of making dresses sound like crinkling paper and tip toes sound like Monsieur Heavyfoot. Who ever you are… I LOVE YOU!

I really miss this kind of so-called adult entertainment and really wish the Gregory Darks of today would pull in the reigns a bit and let the story have some importance on the film. Is that too much to ask?

Ain't she a pip?

Swimfan

2007-02-19T11:02:00.000-08:00

Stop me if you’ve heard this one before – A hot stud with a worshipping girlfriend betrays her in one night of lost passion with another girl. Once he realizes his mistake, he tries to dump the other woman only to realize she’s not giving up that easy. A few dead bodies later, he has to go toe to toe with the bitch from hell and only one will come out the winner. If you can’t name at least three movies this synopsis reminds you of, than you are obviously not spending enough of your time watching bad movies.

If Lifetime ever made a big screen movie, Swimfan would likely have been the film they would have produced. Salacious and featuring a good mix of nice and nasty female characters, this teenage Fatal Attraction is a not bad thriller. Not terribly good either, but certainly not worthy of some of the bashing it received upon its initial release in 2002. I mean, am I the only one who enjoys watching pretty people being stalked, tortured and/or killed?!? OK, maybe I am the only one, but if you were of any age in the early 90s, it was impossible to miss the onslaught of sexy stalker pics such as the unforgivably ludicrous Whispers in the Dark to the wonderfully over the top The Crush (in which a pretty girl got socked in the jaw. Go Cary!). Like all the other blueprint stalker films that came before Swimfan, this one plays it by the book but not without a bit of trashy fun. The problem here is that it isn’t trashy enough. Our resident female scorned character, Madison Bell (Erika Christensen), is played with a Drew Barrymore circa Poison Ivy-like charm. She’s Jessica Rabbit on acid and dips herself into the role with enough menacing abandoned that she’s brings the picture up a notch. The rest of the cast can act, but none of them come out more than cardboard (except for Max Rosmarin as the Music Nerd who is so cardboard it’s actually fun!).

Although it’s obvious that the screenwriters were out to lunch when they wrote Swimfan, at least they gave it an original title and didn’t take the remake road that so many Hollywood suits have been relying on as of late. It might not be great, but at least it doesn’t smear the memory of the good films it’s attempting to rip-off. Sadly, that makes it something of note.

This movie is all washed up

Sorceress

2007-01-30T12:49:00.000-08:00

How thrilled was I when I bought a movie starring Linda Blair, Edward Albert, Larry Poindexter, William Marshall, Michael Parks AND Julie Strain?!? Well, let's just say there have been fewer happier days for me. Delighted as I was to have this direct to video sexploitation potboiler in my house, it kind of still just sat there for what seemed like an eternity.

Then I got insomnia. One of my first thoughts was to pop on this little Jim Wynorski ditty and hopefully let it lull me into a state of unconciousness. It did the opposite and I didn't even have the sound on.

Upon first viewing, I was only able to see half of Sorceress, but I could surmise this:

Julie Strain is this magical type lady who is killing people at her husband's place of business, so he'll get promoted (gee, she has a lot of faith in him) and during a scuffle, where she's doing a ritual on Edward Albert, her husband (Larry Poindexter) accidentally tosses her out a window, killing her.

He sort of meanders around as the loyal widower for, like, a day or two, and then starts hammering his ex-girlfriend and current co-worker as a sexy Julie Strain apparition keeps popping up to do some damage.

Anyway, during all of this, Linda Blair has some sort of powers herself and I guess is starting to figure out something is wrong. Or is she really the culprit? Hmmmm…

Oh yeah, and Michael Parks lives in Blair's guest house and may or may not be a serial killer. Fred Olen Ray also plays a TV Reporter! And William Marshall shows up for two scenes to bring up the class bar. He does.

It turns out that even though I had no sound, I almost got all of that right!

Essentially, Blair and Erica (Strain) and Strain's housekeeper (Toni Naples) are all kind of into witchcraft and use it mostly to fulfill their sexual desires. Well, that's great until Erica makes Edward Albert a paraplegic. There is this hilarious scene where Linda Blair is giving him a back rub as they watch porn. He says it's too much and changes channels! I love how they show hardcore porn on the local channel – in the afternoon! Anyway, Erica has used her powers to make Larry fall in love with her, which is why he gets to butt licking the other girl so soon (that's right - butt licking - YIKES!)...And Blair is not as innocent as she appears either, but that's part of the mystery, so I'll leave it at that.

I've totally confused this plot, but not really more so than it actually is. Sorceress is an awesome thinly veiled excuse to exploit actresses who really don't seem to mind at all. There is one veeeeery long siliconed lesbian love scene that bordered on a little too graphic, otherwise its typical Wynorski schtuff. No wait, too graphic IS typical Wynorski...

Sorceress is an extremely entertaining movie. It's not Mensa material or anything, but it's tremendously engaging and hard to turn off. Once again, Michael Parks rules the screen whenever he's on it and Strain is Crazy-Sexy-Cool as usual. I have to admit I was surprised to see someone like Larry Poindexter in this movie, especially during some of the sexier scenes. There were points were I was expecting a body double, but then the camera would pan up and...well, there he was. I went kind of ga-ga for him in this too, but I still had a hard time figuring out why he was the most used piece of equipment in the gym. He's mostly wide-eyed about every situation and sort of fumbles his way through, hoping for a bit of guidance. Luckily, Toni Naples and Linda Blair practically spell it all out, making it easy for him to figure out (i.e. be told) what to do.

And is it just me, or does David Duchovny have his career:

Damn, he's cute!

Red Shoe Diaries

2007-01-08T18:15:00.000-08:00

I suppose when people look back on Zalman King's erotic Showtime Television series The Red Shoe Diaries, they think of sumptuous women in various tawdry situations. As I remember, it was pretty much erotica for women, with lots of pretty camera shots, fractured stories, heavily sexual dialog and lots and lots of nudity. This is the memory I held for the pilot as well. It could not have been farther from the truth.

Zalman King's most personal film, The Red Shoe Diaries is more about love and loss than about getting laid. Bridgette Bako plays the beautiful and successful but emotionally turbulent Alex who falls for Jake (DavidDuchovny). Their few months together consist of sheer contentment. Both warriors in the work world, their home life is a complete opposite, offering tranquility and togetherness. Bridgette loves Jake but can't seem to love herself. As she writes in her diary, "I am an open book." This statment compells Alex to search out something disasterous yet all of her own. That's when she meets Tom (Billy Wirth). Construction worker and part-time shoe salesman (!), he expertly seduces Alex and invites her to his home the following night. Alex desperately tries to convince Jake to take her out of town but he's unaware of the disaster that lies before them and declines due to a business engagement. It is here that she begins a short but ill-fated affair with Tom. These simple rendevous aren't enough to fill Tom's craving heart and Alex feels she has no choice but to escape them both.

(The beginning of the end)

Told mostly in flashback, The Red Shoe Diaries is both tragic and thoughtful. Viewed through a vaseline swiped lens, there is sheer beauty to be found in Alex's flowing skirts and red shoes. An achingly sad woman, Alex longs to do the right thing but feels unworthy of true love.

Trust me, as I write this, I can't actually believe I'm saying it. I know this is Zalman King and that his sex films are what help put Red Shoe Diaries on the map. I also know people tend to look at his films as erotic trash consisting of little more than a few breasts and a bit of beefcake, and that makes me sad. Even as a passing fan with only a mild appreciation of his other works (Wild Orchid 2 is good stuff!), I fear not enough people will find themselves wanting to rent this haunting love story. Maybe I'm getting older and beginning to understand the undercurrents of sexuality better, but I'd also like to think The Red Shoe Diaries has aged like a fine red wine, not just the nostalgia of it. Lush and dark and always easy to swallow (insert dirty joke here!), I'm absolutely astonished that this film hasn't met with a better reception. It's a truly moving film, with an incredible soundtrack. There are some typical 90s erotica bits, like a moment in Alex's voice over when she declares "He made love like he worked on the street - tender as a jackhammer"(!) but this film expertly explores the dichotomy between sex and sexuality and successfully portrays the sadness in a life felt with little worth. The nudity is A+ as well. I would guess that there's maybe one minute of it total, but it belongs to natural women and they are lovely. There's even a sweaty basketball game between Wirth and Duchovny that kept me panting throughout. And yet, when I look back on it, all I think of is the hauntingly romantic scene towards the end when Jake lays next to Alex on the cold bathroom floor. It's these kind of images that great romances are built on.

The Obsession

2006-12-30T20:15:00.000-08:00

My favorite rebel wench!

It’s no secret, Daphne Zuniga makes my little heart go pitter-patter. She’s so beautiful and ever since she played Jo on Melrose Place, she’s been the owner of my heart. Well, co-owner. I have to share the love with A LOT of folks, you know.

At any rate, Daphne has passed the days of playing black clad rebels like she did so gracefully in MP and Modern Girls. Now she’s up to the mom roles. Not a bad gig if you can get it. However, it does often leave you stranded on that little island known as Lifetime. I LOVE Lifetime but I know others tend to think of it as the bastard step-child of a bitter Oprah generation. Pshaw! Lifetime is more than men being bad. Well, here it IS about men being bad, but somewhere, I know there’s a part of Lifetime that isn’t. I’ll embrace that part too when I find it.

In The Obsession, Daphne is Deborah Matthews, a newly single mother who is struggling to not be her daughter’s enemy, have a bad ass job and get back into the dating world. Her daughter, Erika (Elise Gaiten) is a mediocre ballet dancer that everyone gloms over, especially a crippled dance teacher who is helping Erika for her big audition into a conservatory. One day the teacher disappears and this hunk of a man, who sounds exactly like Leigh McCloskey comes gliding into class and takes over as the new instructor. This teacher, Reed Halton (Sebastian Spence with an AWFUL eye tuck), takes Erika under his wing and starts to romance Deborah. It all seems awkward but fairly normal until Erika’s original teacher is found dead and Reed starts putting the moves on his favorite student. Being the smart and sassy girl Daphne is, it doesn’t take too long for Deborah to at least get the inclination that something is wrong, but after she bans Reed from seeing Erika or herself outside of the studio, the shit hits the fan! And I mean it’s going at like 100 miles per hour!

I liked this movie quite a bit. It spends the first hour unraveling things, like bits of Reed’s past and Erika’s awakening into womanhood as she develops a crush on Reed. The second half is more Lifetime friendly with psycho man stabbing Erika’s boyfriend and beating people with the dead teacher’s cane! Yup, he’s evil, but I like that there’s some insight into his background, while still keeping him a mystery. You’re never truly sure what exactly happened to his dead wife – I mean, you know she’s dead and how, but you’re never certain as to what set him off in the first place. There are points where I felt pretty sympathetic for Reed, mostly because of his eye tuck, but you get the point.

Anyway, The Obsession might not give Daphne a lot to work with, you know like when she did The Fly 2, but at least it keeps her from going too over top like so many Mother-Protecting-Child Lifetime flicks. And I’d rather drool over a quietly controlled Zuniga performance than a “Hey look, Gloria Swanson never died” nosedive into the sea of anti-men Lifetime movies. But dammit, if I don’t love those too…

Vendetta

2006-12-27T11:04:00.000-08:00

There has been plenty of rape/revenge movies since the 70s blew the topic open for discussion in the deeply disturbing Last House on the Left. What’s come out of that sleazy sub-genre range from the amazing (Death Weekend) to the abysmal (I Spit on Your Grave) to the what-the-hell-were-they-thinking (Slashed Dreams)! In the wake of such a wide variety, a few titles still remain undiscovered gems. Vendetta is just such a film.

As Bonnie Cusack (Michelle Newkirk) is raped in Joe-Bob’s (Greg Bradford from Skatetown USA, who look 40 when he was, like, 18!) truck, she shoots him square in the head, killing him. A trial leaves her with an irrational guilty verdict, whereupon she enters one of the roughest female prisons this side of Corcoran. Bonnie meets Kay (Sandy Martin), the most feared prisoner and the one with all of the connections outside and in. When Bonnie rejects Kay’s advances, she’s promptly thrown off the second floor of the block and killed – and it’s her first day! Bonnie’s sister, bad-ass stuntwoman Laurie Collins (Karen Chase), decides to get herself thrown into the same prison (she steals the judge’s car and then runs it through a jewelry store!) and hunts down Kay’s gang one by one.

A roundabout type of rape/revenge film, Laurie’s quest goes far beyond simply justifying her sister’s demise. In this prison, Laurie will encounter latin lesbians, a sleazy male prison guard (courtesy of the gorgeous Kin Shriner), an old lady who enjoys the fact that she killed her husband, Roberta Collins with a rifle and the big breasted chick from Friday the 13th Part 2! During all of the chaos, Laurie starts to wonder if an eye for an eye is the right thing for her. Vendetta is part Last House on the Left, part Caged Heat and all 80s. The hair is all over the map and spectacular! What else would you expect from the director responsible for the Madonna video Borderline?!?

But I digress… Back to Kay… actress Martin is by far the most realistic evil badass female prisoner I’ve ever laid my eyes on (During a weird conjugal visit, she gets off and leaves her loverboy craving more. Then she scores some coke from him, shoves it up her underwear into God-knows-where and heads out!). She’s a grotesque species in wife-beaters with a mouth like a sailor and the kind of humor only Ted Bundy would find amusing. She’s a hedonistic bitch. And she totally rocks! Just because Vendetta explores allegorical themes does not mean it’s isn’t also a knock-down-drag-out action flick with real-life stunt woman Chase putting foot to ass! There’s plenty to eye here – heroin addicts, interracial relations (“Black and brown don’t mess around.”), cat fighting, punk rock cult faves Rosie Flores and Pleasant Gehman in an awesome cowpunk band and a shower scene for good measure (keep you eye out for Bonnie’s body double!). In fact, what’s interesting about Vendetta is how it manages to keep hold of its feminist standpoints while delving into sleaze. AND it’s got a female Prince impersonator! What more could one ask for?

Invade Me, Early 90s

2006-12-22T17:37:00.000-08:00

"No, I totally meant to do this to my hair!"

Sometimes it’s hard to envision a world before 1993. A world full of stonewashed jeans, mullets and Lycra dresses; it was an ugly place indeed. But it was also the last bastion of the high class world of sexy thrillers. As you may know, I don’t do all that much, so I spent last weekend thinking about the cultural climate of the country circa 1990-1993. We were living in a time of political correctness, where casual sex was waaaaay bad and being a republican was good. We went into a war worried it was going to be another Viet Nam only to find that it was more like Grenada. I grew up believing movies were supposed to be a reflection of the public consciousness, but when I started to think about a common thread in popular films, I came up with a rather removed theme – Home Invasion. It was rampant in the theaters. Everything from The Hand that Rocks the Cradle to Single White Female to Pacific Heights suggested we were a country on the verge of being undone by...crazy tenants! Uh, OK.

So, now one question remains. Why? Why Unlawful Entry? Why Scorned? And did the Home Invasion Invasion make Shannon Tweed a star? Night Eyes, anyone?

Anyway, it’s a rather silly pontification, but one I must bring to forefront of America now – or at least the Final Girl Seven. To learn from history is to learn not to repeat it. If we ignore a time America was terrified of strange but alluringly large breasted women moving into our house, then we are doomed to re-live what must have been a true nightmare for people with houses big enough to let.

I’m here to ask the important questions. And I hope in 2007, as I still have nothing very important to do, that I can re-watch this cavalcade of invasive art. If we can't figure out the prominence of the theme, maybe at least we can figure out Bridget Fonda's horrible bowl cut hairstyle...

L.A. Goddess

2006-12-18T15:25:00.000-08:00

I should start my humble review with a small omission. I am a BIG David Heavener fan. Some of you may be asking, "Who?" and if that’s you, you simply have not had a chance to be stolen away by his broodingly handsome and rugged features. The man was made to play a stud, ya'know. And to top it off, he's quite humble and kind. I've had the distinct honor of becoming friendly with Mr. Heavener just a few months ago and, man, let me tell you, it was kismet. Well, for me it was. Sure, I’m looking at love through a one way mirror here - but the man is WHITE HOT!

He's so lovely, I had to buy four of his movies recently. He’s SO gorgeous, I could even handle his awfully large hair in L.A. Goddess, which was a feature made for the early 90s Cinemax crowd. It's one of those movies intended to entice late night viewers with Playboy Playmate Kathy Shower's ample charms. By comparison to today's seductive late night viewing options, LA Goddess is, like, totally PG, with just a bit of nudity to keep you in place. And, to prove that the era of Gregory Hippolyte films have gone, is that fact that Ms. Showers can act. She doesn't act well, but she's in character enough to make her the Jodie Foster of erotica.

Kathy is Lisa Moore, a struggling screenwriter who gets stumped after the profound opening of her script which says "Fade In". After a few chin rubs and some deep thought, Lisa goes to her job, which is as a body double for the notorious diva Diane Greer (Wendy McDonald in a fantastic performance). Diane is a flat-chested alkie who loves to create immense havoc on the set. This leads to an exasperated director named Sean (Jeff Conaway!) to call on dazzling producer Damien Sterling (David Heavener) for help. Damien helicopters himself to the set, tells Diane she's finished and begins the (very) slow seduction of Lisa.

David Heavener rawkin' the big hair
After some onset hijinks featuring the pitiful but awesomely entertaining Diane giving Norma Desmond a run for her money, Damien sweeps Lisa off of her feet and takes her to his rather sterile abode, which sits on a lake. Damien's loyal servant Edward (James Hong!) fills Lisa in on the sadness of Damien's lonely life. So Lisa either connives or steals her way into Damien's heart and after a long, silly seduction scene complete with spinning umbrellas, she finally finishes her masterpiece ("You work too hard!" Edward comments), Damien offers to produce it. But he's haunted by his director, line producer and someone else (!) who all remark that perhaps the script sucks and Damien only has rose-tinted glasses for Lisa and her breasts, uh, movie.

Is this starting to sound a bit like Barton Fink? Well, not too much, but enough to make me realize Damien's employees may be right. None of them have even seen her script, and in fact none of them will, since Lisa got all insulted and burned the only copy in her fireplace. And she's left Damien because he's dared to question her intentions. Will the couple find a way to make amends? Is her script good or is she a shyster? Will Joe Estevez ever fail to entertain me? Will Lisa ever find decent clothes? And will Diane quit sleeping with men with mullets and get her act together? These are the questions I pose to you.

L.A. Goddess is a pretty decent little time capsule. But I do warn the more adventurous viewers, this is not really a very sexy film. There is about a total of 45 seconds of nudity, and I'm including David Heavener in the countdown. He's an equal opportunity exhibitionist, what can I say? This movie will really only appeal to fans of Shower, Heavener or Estevez. And contrary to what the video box looks like, this is a below average comedy saved by Wendy McDonald's insane performance. It feels she may be the only one in on the joke!

There are some great wink-wink moments as the actors mug for the audience and the world really seems OK for Damien and Lisa. I mean, neither is really struggling and love comes just that easy for the handsome couple as they take little strolls around Damien’s palace. It’s the feel good erotic drama, that’s neither very erotic nor is it very dramatic, of the decade, folks. And that’s saying something… Oh 1993, where art thou?

Kathy Shower REALLY rawkin' the big hair

The Lonely Lady

2006-11-28T12:44:00.000-08:00

(This doesn't look like a garden hose, Walter.)

"She can't be anybody if she doesn't have an escort."

But she's the... Lonely Lady!

I know I'm putting myself out there, but I think Pia Zadora is not a bad actress. I know, I know, this is coming from the girl who like Gigli, but c'mon, haven't we been a little harsh on Pia? Cute as a button with cherub cheeks and the body of Lolita, she was born to be an icon, unfortunately, the closest she got to any kind of iconic proportions was winning two Razzie Awards in consecutive years. I have not seen her other monster bomb, Butterfly, but I remember all too well Santa Claus Conquers the Martians.

I don't think any film could top the train wreck known as The Lonely Lady. Bankrolled by her billionaire husband, and adapted from the trashy works of Harold Robbins, Pia is Jerilee Randal, a teenager obsessed with writing about Viet Nam as if she had been there herself. After winning the big literature award at school, she celebrates at a party only to leave her nerdy boyfriend behind so she can party with the son of Walter Thornton, a famous screenwriter. After a strange car trip involving Ray Liotta getting up close and personal with a featured extra, Jerilee finds herself wandering aimlessly. Playing a trick on her, Liotta tosses her into the pool, drags her out, tells her he'll teach her to be friendly and shoves a garden hose up her hoo-hah. Yup. That's when Dad pulls the Rolls up.

Back at home, Jerilee's mom refuses to press charges because she knows she can't afford to go up against any Beverly Hills family. The doctor nods in agreement and leaves.

Walter Thornton arrives to return Jerilee's statue and they begin to discuss all things literature. Then they jog, laugh and eat expensive food. He kisses her, she tells mom "I want to sleep with him," and the couple are soon married. After a short encounter with sex, Mr. & Mrs. Thornton begin work on a "Thornton" film and Jerilee meets Ballentine (Jared Martin), a ridiculously handsome day-player who practically begins frothing at the mouth when he sees her (yes, I'm jealous). With script problems at hand, Jerilee fixes up the "Thornton" by tossing Walter's big speech to be held at a grave site. Jerilee simply writes "Why?" And Walter takes credit for her work of brilliance.

Things go downhill from there, eventually leading Walter to grab the unforgettable water hose (which for some reason, he's never gotten rid of) and yell "Or is this more your kick?"
Jerilee moves into a small apartment and begins another ill-fated affair with Ballentine which leads to her pregnancy, subsequent abortion and being dropped by the hottest thing in Hollywood.

At her wit's end, she hooks up with a coke addled club owner who forces himself and coke on Jerilee, even strangling her during sex when she won't snort! Still, she shows up on his arm the next day and he gives her to an Italian couple who are offering to finance her masterpiece if only she'll... well, surely you know by now. Jerilee obliges only to find out the joke is on her.

This leads to a powerful 1983 hallucinogenic breakdown remniscent of the "They're all going to laugh at you" Carrie prom moment, only ridiculous. Jerilee falls into a catatonic state until a gay director says "I love you Jerilee."

It is here, in the sanitorium, where she delves inside her demons and writes a screenplay all about Jerilee. The gay director who supposedly loves her, sends her to a producer who makes Jerilee get in the hot tub with his terrifying wife.

Needless to say, after Jerilee wins what we are to assume is an Oscar, she says "I'm not the only one who fucked my way to the top." Here we go again, Jerilee. And she leaves, the Lonely Lady once more.

(This is Jerilee not getting her respect back.)

A prime piece of early 80s glamour and full blown over-the-top drama, Pia is actually pretty good as used up Hollywood trash. Don't get me wrong here, as my boyfriend recently pointed out, she is not being taken in by these Cassanova's. Indeed, Jerilee holds the cards and ends up bedding ANYONE who may have a few bucks to give her for her script. The most sympathetic character is probably Walter Thronton who is just an old literate unlucky enough to grow fond of a beautiful but manipulative girl. He gets his props in her awards speech too. Had Walter shaved his back every once and a while, he may have been even more sympathetic, but we look for these things where we can.

TV Movie: Ladykillers (1988)

2006-11-17T11:20:00.000-08:00

(underneath that smile is a serious she-beast)

Let's face it, TV Movies get a bum rap. Just the other day, my good friend, Devin, was asking me if I had seen the Jan Michael Vincent/Charles Bronson action flick, The Mechanic, which he referred to as “One step above a TV Movie.” Don’t get me wrong, Devin practically froths at the mouth every time I mention the words Sweet Hostage, but he is also well aware of the confines of the Movie of the Week Syndrome. No foul language, no nudity and toned down violence can certainly dampen anyone’s good time. Luckily, his casual insult kind of hits the mark when it comes this little ditty. Ladykillers simply isn’t happy being the kind of bad movie that becomes so-bad-it’s-good, this one goes all the way to it’s so-bad-it’s-the-hottest-thing-since-feathered-hair-and-roach-clip-barettes and in my modest eyes, it’s a minor cult classic.

Originally released on November 9th, 1988 on ABC, Ladykillers was about a serious female plain-clothes detective played by Marilu Henner (sporting some serious cleavage in various scenes) who falls in love with a rookie named Cavanaugh (Thomas Calabro). Their first case together is to find a lady in an intriguing Tina Turner wig and a muumuu (or frock if you want to add a bit of class) who is stalking the male strippers at Ladykillers, the hippest nightclub in town. The veritable hotspot features bartenders in silver get-ups, an MC who says “All you sexy, sexy ladies”, various oiled up men dancing to the biggest hits of the year, women with NO shame and a club owner named Morgana (Leslie Anne Down with some awesome gravity defying hair!) who purrs lines like “My clients will devour him”. Unfortunately, our bold killer actually stabs the victims during their big number at the end of the show! And, ironically, it ends up being good for business. I mean, I kind of like chest hair and carnage myself. To uncover the sinister culprit, Cavanaugh goes undercover as Mr. Chippendales himself! I won’t say much about my favorite Melrose Place alumni but his fabulous gorilla like dance moves have to be seen to be truly enjoyed. To do these steps yourself, just remember: knuckle drag – butt swing – knuckle drag – butt swing and you’ll have it!

(That sexy gorilla beast!)

A movie that came and went, although it enjoyed a small release on vhs, Ladykillers may just seem like another footnote to the hundreds of TV Movies that came out in the 80s. However, where most episodic programming and small screen features were highlighting the latest music of the decade with remakes of current hits (obtaining the originals was a very expensive venture), Ladykillers featured all original tunes including songs by Living Color, Midnight Oil and Jeffrey Osborne. I’ll admit it was quite startling to see someone in fur boots stripping to Midnight Oil’s profound political song “Beds are Burning”, but he got naked, so who cares?!? Oh yeah, and it’s a good song.

Jeffrey Osborne’s dynamic “Stay With Me Tonight” is the showcase song (i.e. it’s the one Calabro strips too) and for many years I enjoyed watching this movie just to hear it. Well, and to watch Calabro strip.

THRILLER: Eyes of Laura Mars

2006-11-16T13:19:00.000-08:00

The 1978 mystery thriller flick Eyes of Laura Mars has been on my list of "must see"s forever, and when I saw Laura's eerie glowing eyes looking at me from the shelf at my local library last night, I decided to make the leap from dreams to reality. Was the film worth the long long wait? Sure, I suppose. Why not?

Faye Dunaway stars as the titular Laura Mars, a glamourous and edgy photographer whose glamourous, edgy photographs are pushing the boundaries taste. Though they often depict murders and crime scenes, Laura's photographs are nevertheless used in cool, hip advertising, forcing the audience to confront everyday violence and the ways in which society celebrates heinous crimes. It's fuckin' deep, man...her photos really make you think, you know? It's art, baby. You probably don't get it.

Laura is soon haunted by fuzzy psychic visions of the brutal murders of her closest friends and associates. Because she's seeing the crimes through the eyes of the killer, she has no idea who the perp is...this means it could be anyone! Anyone at all! Maybe even...Laura herself. Again...deep.

Eyes of Laura Mars is firmly entrenched in its era: the decadent late 70s. The first giveaway that this is a 70s flick is the fact that it's got its own theme song: Love Theme from Eyes of Laura Mars (Prisoner), sung by none other than Barbra Streisand. That's right, this is no B- or C-level theme song by, you know, Kiki Dee or something. Laura Mars hauls out the big guns straight off. Man, every movie from the 70s had its own damn theme song. The only hold out on that trend are the James Bond flicks. I say we bring it back, dammit! I want to see Love Theme from The Hot Chick (Pillow Fights and Strange New Feelings) sung by Marilyn McCoo sprawled across the screen. Are you listening to me, Hollywood? I certainly hope you are.

Oh, honey, the stars in this movie are mega-watt! MEGA-WATT! Behind the scenes we've got a script and story by horror maestro John Carpenter and competent, confident direction from Irvin Kershner- the man in the director's chair for a little something called The Empire Strikes Back. On screen, first and foremost we've got Faye Dunaway. I love Faye Dunaway. I mean...Network! Bonnie and Clyde! Chinafuckingtown, y'all. Tinseltown simply does not produce the caliber of woman equal to your Faye Dunaways anymore. While Ms Dunaway's presence is certainly enough to get me to watch a movie, Eyes of Laura Mars also boasts Raul Julia as Laura's creepy ex-husband, Brad Dourif as Laura's creepy chauffeur, Rene Auberjonois as Laura's creepy manager, and Tommy Lee Jones as Laura's sometimes creepy new boyfriend. Yes, he's the least creepy man in Laura's life, he's the lead detective on the case, and he's fallen head over heels for Laura and she's the love of his life immediately. Can you see where this plot is going? Yes...yes you can. I tell you, the Eyes of Stacie Ponder figured this movie out pretty quickly, but it really doesn't matter. Thriller/mysteries are always enjoyable to watch unfold, and Laura Mars is no exception. Besides, one spends a majority of one's viewing time transfixed by Tommy Lee Jones's unibrow, anyway.

Aside from said unibrow, I found quite a few things about Eyes of Laura Mars amusing. First, there's Laura's photographs. While they're talked of as "reprehensible", "ultra violent", and "tasteless", they're really quite tame. In fact, most people probably wouldn't use "reprehensible" to describe a photo of two topless models pulling each other's hair. I certainly would, however, use that word to describe their crimped and frizzy hair.

I also immensely enjoyed the fact that Laura has a driver amd must be driven everywhere in New York City...how rich! How positively glamourous! Eventually, the camera pulls back to reveal the vehicle in which Laura is chauffeured around the city:

It's a fucking battle wagon! Do we think that Sue Ellen Ewing is glamourous driving around Dallas in her battle wagon? No. Everyone else is driving Mercedeseseses and Corvettes and Porsches and we feel bad for Sue Ellen Ewing. Battle wagons are not sexy. Those are some sweet rims, though.

It's difficult for me to be objective about a thriller like Eyes of Laura Mars because I almost always love a thriller like Eyes of Laura Mars. Even if it's (or is that because it's...?) silly and over-the-top and I know whodunit about 5 seconds after they walk onscreen, it's always a good time. Look into my eyes!

Other: The Bond of James Bond

2006-11-15T12:49:00.000-08:00

My mother passed away last year at the age of 70. Since then, I have been drowning in a world of memories. She was a great mother - supportive, quirky, opinionated and a fighter. I guess it comes as no surprise that she'd be a fan of the 007 movies. My mom was a die-hard James Bond fan, in fact, I'd consider her to be a Bond Babe. She saw every film and always seeemed to enjoy it more than the one before. She had a unique knack for seening those films through the eyes of a child. The Bond movies, ALWAYS blew her away - sometimes she'd burst into applause or just simply say "Wow," with wide eyes. It was addictive and I remember the audience enjoying my mom more than they did the movie.

I grew up on a steady diet of these films, but strangely I don't remember all that much about them. I know I liked Roger Moore and I thought Tanya Roberts was pretty bad in A View to a Kill. But my mother's enthusiasm, her unbridled passion for glamorous locales, suave men, beautiful ladies and violent deaths did rub off on me. Not in the way that she had hoped - No, I don't froth at the mouth every time I see Sean Connery - but it did feel natural to gravitate towards the over-the-top fictional world of the filthy rich and dangerous. It's a gift my mom gave me and it's something I treasure.

Now a new Bond movie is upon us. Daniel Craig, a fairly unknown face, will be the next 007. When I caught the trailer last week, I remember thinking that this is the first Bond movie to be released since my mother's death. My eyes welled up with tears in that darkened theater, but I could see her big eyes eagerly watching the screen in anticipation. And she was smiling.

I love you Mom.

Come aboard...we're expecting you!

2006-11-14T07:09:00.000-08:00

Hi. Welcome to Genre Girls. I'm Stacie...you might remember me from my wildly popular* horror blog, Final Girl, where I expound at great length about scary stuff and Charles Nelson Reilly, generally using lots of well-placed profanity. I love Final Girl more than just about anything in the world, but occasionally I like to watch movies that are not horror-related. It's true! Please, though, don't tell Final Girl. She likes to think she's the only one for me.

Alas, no, she's not. I have needs, you see...needs like Cynthia Rothrock movies. Needs like disaster movies with all-star casts. Needs like sci fi flicks and thrillers wherein some innocent woman slowly comes to realize that her husband is acting ever so strangely so she goes poking around where she doesn't belong and then in the closet she finds a shoebox full of newspaper clippings about the husband's past antics as a serial killer and then the husband walks in from just killing his wife's nosy best friend and he totally as to kill his wife now, too. And so, because I want to watch all these movies that are not horror and yet I also feel the need to flap my cyber-gums about them, the only thing it seemed I could do was launch yet another fucking blog. I've assembled a crack team of other Genre Girls, and together we will do our best to bring you news and reviews and general whatevers about all those genre flicks we check out. Now introducing your ship's bloggers...

RACHAEL
I’m goofy and smart and clever and mean and nice and good and naughty. I like knitting and sewing and Anne Carson but probably Anne Carson more. I sometimes dress up like Rocky and say “yo” a lot. This would be a lot more funny if you knew that I am skinny and extremely un-tough. Mostly, I take pictures and make stuff. I only like to watch movies sometimes. I dropped out of film school because I had to watch movies all the time. I wish I knew how to dance.

SUPERHEIDI
Heidi Martinuzzi was born in 1874 in the wilds of Czarist Russia. At the age of ten, she was kidnapped by Khazakhs and forced into sexual slavery. By the time she was 15, she had learned the art of seduction to perfection, which made her the perfect candidate to be a spy to the Japanese court of the emperor for the Czar. While in Japan, as Emperor Hirohito (the elder)'s favorite mistress, she learned of the communist overthrow and hastened back to Russia just in time to see the greatest Empire that had ever been (next to Rome, of course!!! duh) fallen to the hands of barbarous communists.

After toiling on a potato ranch near Moscow she made her escape to what was left of Turkey after the Great War. She used her skills at seduction (still strong after the years!) and superb intellect to start a lumber mill, which was very lucrative as everyone was rebuilding Turkey without the imperial aid of their former Sultan. When she paid off the lumber mill, she bought another one. She increased her profits, borrowed against each consecutive lumber mill, until she had made quite a killing in the lumber industry.

It was her great success with Heidi's Turkish Lumber and Associates that allowed her to travel, for the first time, to the United States in 1928, and invent the Rotoscopic Camera Lense, which allowed cinematographers to infuse their film stock with a horizontally-edged light filter, allowing for a smoother flow in picture projection, and less stilted special effects such as stop-motion and quick lighting changes. Every one who is ANYONE in the cinematography world knows Heidi's Rotoscopic Camera Lense (though now it is obsolete, having been replaced in 1953 with the Gaumont-Dubois lense, used in Cinemascope productions).

After retiring in 1954, Heidi wrote her bestselling memoirs "Poor Little Rich Girl: The Life and Times of Heidi Martinuzzi". An instant bestseller, it propelled Heidi's career as a master of the written word forward. It was propelled forward, that is. Because of her skill at writing. Oh, you know what I mean. Anyway, it was about this time that Heidi was linked romantically to Cary Grant, Clark Gable, Tony Curtis, Rod Serling, Jack Hill, Roger Corman, Robert Mitchum, Jack Kennedy, Billy Wilder, William Holden, Harold Hecuba, Howard Hawkes, Laurence Olivier, Errol Flynn, Alfred Hithcock, Martin Landau, Jack Lemmon, Gregory Peck, Rory Calhoun, Buddy Ebson, Adam West, Mel Brooks, Bobby Kennedy, Fernando Lamas, a young Dennis Hopper, and Marlene Deitrich. Her influence and fame as a Hollywood icon spread, and soon her film reviews were being sought after by young aspiring filmmakers everywhere. Over 50 years later they still send her their independent films, hoping for an approval, which would mean instant and incontrovertible success in the film industry.

As the 21st Century is upon us, it seems Heidi Martinuzzi is not going anywhere. She will always remember her native land of Vienna, Austria, but she feels that she is part of this world, this "Hollywood", and that it flows in her veins along with her blood. As the first female filmmaker in history, she has contributed to film's invention, growth, and creativity over the years in a way that no other filmmaker has. In a recent interview she said, "I just want everyone to leave me the fuck alone". The rest is history.

AMANDA BY NIGHT
I was raised in Vegas, so you know that I recognize trash. It was a difficult road at first, I wanted only to expose myself to artier fare (a difficult task in Sin City) and then I saw Maniac. You know, the one with Joe Spinell giving the business to various women on the streets of New York. It managed to be artistic, well made and it scared the piss out of me. I was hooked. At first I didn’t realize what I was getting myself into but after a few years of playing catch up on the fabulous era of slashers, I started to crave more. It seemed that the obvious jump would be to action and disaster films. Glitzy death was just too fabulous to turn away from. Since then I have come to love everything about Steven Seagal (that’s right, I said it) and I think Roadhouse is the film that will eventually bring on world peace. What sort of knowledge have I gained from this type of adventurous movie watching? I’ve learned that horror movies get a seriously bummed out rap, Charles Bronson was the hottest thing with a heat-sinking and girls in the woods wearing pumps are doomed.

I really love all types of subgenres, mostly from the 70s through the early 90s and I REALLY dig it if it stars Robert Forster. I’ve tried to make this kind of erudite self-taught education work for me and currently I can be seen giving my wherewithal to various websites such as Pretty Scary, Camp Blood, Film Threat, Retro Slashers, as well as playing Guest Guide sometimes for Staci Layne Wilson in her About.com's Horror section. I have also interviewed some of the most beautiful women in the world for Sirens of Cinema magazine (Brinke Stevens anyone?). The pinnacle of my success thus far has been having dinner with John Carpenter, stalking various people involved with Blood Diner and asking the leggy, blonde actress who plays Blair Cramer on One Life to Live if it was weird to replace someone who was half Asian.

Oh yeah, and Magnum P.I. was the best show on earth!

STACIE PONDER
is some girl who loves a rainy night, comic books, Dallas, beer, swearing, coffee, drawing, making all kinds of stuff, horror movies, not horror movies, videogames, listening to records, scary places, wigs, Melrose Place, Anna Oxygen, taking pictures, flapping her gums, the open road (baby), Death Valley, Adrienne Barbeau, whooping your ass at Mall Madness, Ray Harryhausen, making comics, writing, reading, and playing catch...though she doesn't do that last one very often. She does NOT, however, love saxophones, beets, college football, boring people (yes yes yes, I realize it's subjective), fanny packs, elitism, Paul Reiser, sitcoms, nickels, Wal-Mart, capers (the food...I like, like...crime capers), bad smells, and the song Kokomo. I was raised on a steady diet of music, drawing, horror movies, and Mad Magazine, so that should tell you something.

So there you have it. We hope you enjoy your time here at Genre Girls. We are here to serve your genre-related needs!

*"wildly popular"= read consistently by The Final Girl Seven

ACTION: Death Wish IV: The Crackdown

2006-11-06T11:57:00.000-08:00

Charles Bronson was rippling muscles underneath tan flesh. Oh yes, he was. One of the leanest and meanest action heroes of the 70s & 80s, he carried a big can of whoop ass wherever he went. When Bronson hooked up with Cannon Films in the 80s, he became the official man of action, and for me, at least, this period remains the most enjoyable time in his filmography. Dude, Murphy’s Law?!? That movie rawks! What about Assassination? OK, that one kind of blew, but he was still totally awesome in it! Bronson’s best Cannon release was by far Death Wish 4: The Crackdown. That’s right you heard me…I did not stutter… I loves me this movie! It’s got roller rinks, tough guys chomping on cigars, smart ass punkers and a missile… but best of all, it introduces a new side of Paul Kersey… The Bumbling Vigilante.

Bronson was in his 60s by the time he made The Crackdown, and the phrase “Just Say No” had been burned in our brains. Accordingly, the infamous Kersey was made a sweeter, more understanding murderer of thugs. Here, he relocates to Los Angeles and has a new honey bunny named Karen (Kay Lenz, who was about ½ of Bronson’s age). At one point Karen confesses her love for Kersey and he squirms around uncomfortably in his seat. Otherwise, life seems fairly idyllic for the retired vigilante, but when Karen’s daughter puts a little too much snow up the nose and dies, Kersey finds himself back on the streets, hunting down LA’s biggest drug dealers.

It is here, during the bulk of his vigilante-ing, that he gets caught during a number of ‘secret missions’. He’s uncovered at a party, he’s found out when he’s incognito as a wine salesman (check out the Danny Trejo dummy!), he gets caught in a hit man’s apartment, and he’s also revealed during a so-called slick one-man cannery invasion. I think that accounts almost every mission he took during the run of this movie (I’m skipping the one where he walks into a video store backroom and opens fire). Bronson, of course, always has the last laugh, but his several almost-captures are hilarious. The hit man walks into his apartment, to find Bronson and this is their exchange:

Hit man: What are you doing in my apartment?

Kersey: Making a sandwich.

Hit man flies out of window and goes BOOM onto the car his obnoxious girlfriend is sitting in.

Rock on Bronson.

Our swarthy crime-stopper almost single-handedly eradicates the drug problem in Los Angeles. Then a secret or two are uncovered, Karen is kidnapped and people skate at the roller rink. Good stuff.

Say what you want about the elderly crime-fighter, but The Crackdown is a fast moving little film with some great lines, nice action scenes and a lovely look at when it was done right.

Heroes never die, they just become more bumbling.

*Dedicated to Albert Reyes who proved to me that real heroes never do die.