Midnight Movie of the Week #107 - Kingdom of the Spiders

The epic journey of Rack Hansen is something any man, woman, or child would want to be a part of.  After all, Rack Hansen is a one-of-a-kind cowboy vet, who's not above riding a horse and wearing a pink cowboy shirt and being awesome.  And, when you consider the fact that Rack Hansen is played by none less than William Shatner, you kind of get the idea that there should be a whole series of Rack Hansen films out there. Mostly because his name is Rack Hansen, of course.

Unfortunately, there is only one Rack Hansen film - I pray I'm wrong, but that seems to be the truth - and that film is the 1977 arachna-palooza Kingdom of the Spiders.  The Shat gets his Arizona swagger on alongside one of FMWL's three (imaginary) brides, Tiffany Bolling - who naturally plays a hot arachnologist - in the battle to save a small Arizona community from a seemingly unending wave of tarantulas.  The film is the debut feature by director John "Bud" Cardos, and it's one of those movies that is surprisingly good at what it does if you only consider what it intends to do.

I forgot to mention that the great Woody Strode - who broke the NFL's color barrier and was basically awesome - has a supporting role in the film.

No, Kingdom of the Spiders will never be confused with high art - this is the kind of movie the Criterion collection would pretend to release on April Fool's Day - and it's easy to see the film's flaws.  Y'know, flaws like the fact that tarantula venom actually doesn't do much to humans, yet kills several throughout the film.  Kingdom of the Spiders was also pretty late to the game among animals-gone-wild films of the 1970s, following plenty of films like The Food of the Gods, that covered similar territory.

Except you rarely saw a cow in the back seat of a car in other movies.

I could argue that Kingdom of the Spiders is a far more competent film than something like Food of the Gods, but I'd be missing the point.  The point is that this one has Shatner stomping the crud out of hundreds of real tarantulas.  The animal rights folks would probably have a fit if someone tried to make this movie today, because I'm willing to bet that a lot of "innocent" spiders were harmed and or killed during the making of this film.  Me, I'm OK with the film, because spiders creep me the heck out.  If it has more than 4 legs or less than 2, I kill it - that's my motto.

I don't really need to waste my time discussing what Shatner brings to the film, because the only way to describe a William Shatner performance is by saying he acts like William Shatner.  Bolling is certainly more restrained in this PG feature than she is in her other grindhouse roles (check out all my Tiffany Bolling love here), with her primary purpose in the film being that she reminds us that William Shatner is the man of the film.  She's still a sight to see, and Cardos does what he can to show her in as much undress as the MPAA will allow under a PG rating, but she's not Shatner and she's not the spiders and thus she's not really that important to the film.

As the film builds toward a final act that resembles "trapped in a house" settings like those of The Birds or Night of the Living Dead, we're treated to an increasing amount of Shatner that's sure to satisfy any cheese lover.  Moments like the one when Shatner reaches into a vent and recoils in pain or when he ventures into a cellar only to be blanketed by eight legged critters show off the kind of acting that only the Captain of the Starship Enterprise is capable of.  There are sure to be some laughs had at Shatner's expense - then again, when aren't there laughs had at Shatner's expense? - but this certainly wouldn't be as watchable a film without his thespian talents.

It probably sounds like I'm dissing Kingdom of the Spiders, but I really do love this silly little movie.  Cardos - who would later direct the odd 1979 chiller The Dark (I dig that one too!) and the 1984 Wings Hauser film Mutant  (and I have got to see that!) - keeps the film simple but never seems to be in over his head as a director.  When I compared the film to The Birds or NOTLD earlier I certainly didn't mean to compare this director to Hitchcock or Romero, but Cardos is more than capable of keeping the film moving and making the story seem more pulpy than trashy.  Though some of the scenes where the spiders meet the main cast seem a bit off - a lot of times the tarantulas don't follow direction and run AWAY from their "victims" - there are some fantastic scenes in which the spiders roam through the small town and crawl all over cast members and extras.

The film's willingness to use real spiders is sure to give anyone with even the slightest case of arachnaphobia some chills, and the director and his talented (in their own ways) stars keep Kingdom of the Spiders feeling like more than just another cheesy animal attack film.  It's hard to really explain why - maybe it's just that nerds like me put Shatner on one heckuva pedestal - but Kingdom of the Spiders is greater than the sum of its parts.  And now that Shout Factory has rescued it from the public domain and produced a fantastic DVD transfer of the film - please note that the DVD cover implies that a torch comes out of Mr. Shatner's crotch, which sadly does not really happen - there's nothing that should keep any of us from boldly visiting this Kingdom when we need a dose of late '70s cheese.

 Oh, and I can't finish this review without referencing the INCREDIBLY AWKWARD quasi-romantic relationship between Rack Hansen (I seriously haven't said Rack Hansen enough tonight) and the widow of his brother, who totally wants a dose of Rack.  That's a problem when you consider the fact that Tiffany Bolling is also in the movie, so let's just say that the film wraps up this bit of awkwardness relatively early in the film's plot.  But that doesn't make the love triangle any less awkward.

 Well done, Rack Hansen. Well done.

Midnight Movie of the Week #105 - The Candy Snatchers

Back by popular demand (from myself, but who's counting) is that blonde bombshell of the sleazy seventies, Tiffany Bolling - who's quickly become a veteran in the Midnight Movie of the Week canon.  This time, I'm taking a look at the 1973 kidnap-xploitation flick (Did I just make that genre up? Maybe.) The Candy Snatchers, which has long been one of Ms. Bolling's films that eluded my eyes.

The film features Bolling and two male conspirators - the smaller and hornier Alan (played by Brad David) and the bigger and dopier Eddy (Vince Martorano) - who snatch up a 16 year old Catholic school girl - named Candy, of course - and set off a chain reaction of violence and mayhem that barrels out of control quickly.  The trio have a kidnapping scheme in place, but we all know that things never really go as planned in this type of situation, don't we?

For starters, the girl's stepfather (played by the creepily Andrew-McCarthy-looking Ben Piazza) is a bit more worried about the money - and a lot more worried about having an affair with a fine young woman - than he is about the fate of Candy or her millionaire mother.  He's always got that distant look in his eyes, and his unwillingness to go along with the trio's treacherous plan is just another splash of gasoline on their criminal fire.

Meanwhile, poor Candy (played by 20 year old Susan Sennett, who would later become the wife of Crosby, Stills & Nash's Graham Nash), gets abused by the men and ignored by Bolling's Jessie, who seems to grow a little jealous of the attention that's paid to Candy by her male companions.  She's buried alive, she's beaten, she's raped (this was the '70s, somebody had to get raped), and she's pretty much tossed around like the plot device she is throughout the film.  Ms. Sennett/Nash quit acting in the mid '70s - allegedly walking out on an audition for TV's Three's Company - because she was tired of doing "racy" material.  So, basically, the character is abused so thoroughly that it made the actress feel abused four years later.

Which brings us to the real star of The Candy Snatchers - the only witness who has any chance of helping Candy - a mute, autistic child named Sean.  Sean is played by Cristophe, the real-life son of director Guerdon Trueblood, and he bumbles through the film in his bib overalls while doing his best to communicate with those around him.  Unfortunately, his parents hate him and abuse him because he can't talk, leading to a couple of late film scenes that had me gasping in fear for the little trooper.  Sean's pretty much the cutest kid hero ever - particularly for such a sleazy film - and I spent much of the movie just wanting to jump through the screen and help the kid out. And maybe give him a high five for being awesome.

With this many volatile characters in one place - the only people we can really root for are a kid who can't communicate and a girl who's bound and gagged for most of the film - the heavy turns that occur throughout the film's journey cover a wide range of exploitation standards. Disagreements between the criminals and cat-and-mouse games between the sleazy stepfather and the sleazier kidnappers are predictable, but still carry dramatic weight thanks to the performances of the actors and the script's ability to make us sympathize with the abused characters.  The antagonists are drawn pretty well too, particularly Martorano's Eddy, a part that was written specifically for the actor because he was a college friend of Trueblood.  His character is seen as sympathetic at times and brutal at others, which keeps things tense when we don't really know what to expect from the character.

This is yet another production by Arthur Marks - who also was behind Bolling films Bonnie's Kids and The Centerfold Girls - and after seeing all three films in which he used her talents it's very clear why Marks kept bringing her back to his films.  Bolling is once again given the chance to play a strong and occasionally fierce character, and her pretty face quickly fades away when we realize just how vicious she can be.  I don't think her role here is as bold as she was in Bonnie's Kids, nor does she reach the primal rage that she released late in The Centerfold Girls, but it is another testament to how strong this Playboy magazine could be without relying on her physical attributes. (Though she does show them off anyway.)

The Candy Snatchers is another vicious little film from the Marks/Bolling machine - I'm glad there's only three of these, because I'm not sure I could keep seeing this kind of dark thriller every week - but it's got a lot of interesting twists and turns thanks to well developed characters and one wonderfully brave little boy.  It's pretty good at what it does, and should be an interesting find for fans of '70s drive-in sleaze.

Midnight Movie of the Week #101 - The Centerfold Girls

I'm pretty sure I didn't get enough of Tiffany Bolling last week.  So, consider this a case of her being "held over" in the MMOTW spotlight for a second week.  I can't promise there won't be a third...

Unlike last week's Bolling feature - Bonnie's Kids - which borrowed heavily from pulp novels and film noir, The Centerfold Girls (obviously) borrows inspiration from the pages of "gentleman's" magazines.  It's a segmented film - I'm not ready to call it an anthology, but it's pretty clearly divided into three unique tales - that is tied together by one cold and calculated killer, a seemingly proper gentleman in a suit and sneakers named Clement Dunne, played by veteran character actor Andrew Prine.

Clement seems to be a man of strong moral fiber, if you think wanting to systematically kill off young women who pose as nude centerfolds represents "strong moral fiber".  His quest places the film in the vicinity of the blooming slasher genre of film, but the 1974 production has more in common with exploitation fare of the early '70s like The Last House on the Left - and probably a bit in common with the pornography of the era too.

The film's first segment sets the tone for us all, with the kind of sleaze you'd expect from the decade's top sexploitation titles and brutality on par with the controversial Wes Craven film listed above.  After the film introduces Clement - while he dumps a naked model's body on a beach - we follow him as he tracks a model-turned-nurse named Jackie (played by Jamie Lyn Bauer, a former swimsuit pageant winner), who has about the worst luck I've ever seen on film. 

 After breaking down due to harassing phone calls from Clement, Jackie picks up a seemingly innocent hitchhiker and heads away to a secluded cabin for the weekend.  Trouble follows her there, but it's not Clement she has to worry about - yet.  Jackie's story takes some wacky turns - most notably the one involving her helpful neighbors, a husband and wife played by veteran character actor Aldo Ray and Paula Shaw (who would go on to play Pamela Voorhees in Freddy vs. Jason) - and by the time Clement gets to it's almost a relief to the viewer.  Jackie certainly gets abused worse than anyone else in the film, and she's a contender on the all-time abuse list too.

Clement's second pursuit is the least interesting segment of the film, but does provide some intrigue by putting his victim - this time it's a pin-up played by Jennifer Ashley who happens to be away on a shoot with more potential victims/models - on an island setting with the kind of old home we'd expect to see in a Mario Bava film. This story has some great visuals, but the characters don't have much to offer us - aside from their exposed breasts.  (Just so we're clear, I'm relatively sure at least a dozen different girls show off their "talents" in the film. The title isn't just a metaphor.)

The final sequence brings Clement face to face with Ms. Bolling, who plays a centerfold turned stewardess (it was the '70s, I don't have to say flight attendant!) that is tracked across the coastline by our determined killer.  She spends the most time with Clement of the multiple centerfolds, and her interactions with him pick the film back up after the brief lull in the middle sequence.  It's not a strong role like she was given in Bonnie's Kids (whose writer/director Arthur Marks also produced and help write this film) for most of her time on screen, but the final conflict between her and Clement is an exciting conclusion to the film.

Despite how much I enjoy Ms. Bolling's charms and the several interesting side characters who are spread throughout the film, make no mistake about the fact that Andrew Prine's performance as Clement is the reason to see The Centerfold Girls.  With the voice of a TV host from the 1950s and his bible salesman appearance, Prine creates one of the most unique killers in the annals of exploitation cinema.  We know he's the killer from frame one, but every time we see him step into a phone booth, dial up one of the girls, and tell them that he's "only trying to help them" it adds a bit more intrigue to the film.  Prine has stated that he wanted to make his character a man who only sees things in black-and-white, and the performance that he gives clearly meets that goal.

Random horror connection - Yes, that is a copy of The Exorcist on Tiffany Bolling's bedside table.  Rowr.

Like other great killers in cinema, Clement Dunne represents a force of nature.  His actions are based on beliefs instead of emotions, and he moves through the film with a confidence that never wavers. The film plays his unwavering confidence against the victims' own problems perfectly - is it a coincidence that the two sequences that really work feature a former beauty queen and a former Playboy playmate? I think not. - and creates discomfort that would make any exploitation filmmaker proud along the way.

The Centerfold Girls is certainly not a fun movie and I'm not even sure it's a good movie - the lull in the middle is really kind of sad - but it's got some really fantastic moments.  There are moments of incredible unease and a performance by Prine that lifts his killer above the material.  It sounds like a sensationalized film that wants to capitalize on the male love of naked bodies - and it is to an extent - but The Centerfold Girls has a pretty shrewd dose of exploitation psychology in store for a viewer, and it's that edge to the film that has me heartily recommending it to any fan of bloody '70s sleaze.

Best killer shoes ever? Maybe.

Midnight Movie of the Week #100 - Bonnie's Kids

From the obscure corners of the 1970s comes Bonnie's Kids, an exploitation drama that has been ignored by most people who aren't named Quentin Tarantino.  Directed by Arthur Marks, who's probably most known for blaxploitation flicks Friday Foster and Detroit 9000, the film follows the adventures and misfortunes of Myra and Ellie, the daughters of the now deceased Bonnie who are left to face the world together.

The opening scenes make it perfectly clear that the girls' strength lies primarily in their attitude and their appearance.  The elder sister, Ellie, is a waitress who does her best to fend off the advances of every male in town despite her skimpy work outfit.  Myra, who struggles with the condition known as "being a teenager", seems too innocent to even notice her physical gifts as the film opens.  As she dries herself off after a bath with the window wide open, one of her stepfather's friends remarks with redneck sincerity that "there oughta be a law against that".  In his words, a body like that can be a deadly weapon.

Which makes it really dangerous when a "body like that" possesses a shotgun.

Immediately after that astute observation by a character we'll never see again, drunken step-father Charley decides that Myra's sexuality means that he can throw himself upon her.  Ellie returns home just in time, unloading both barrels of her stepfather's shotgun into his chest.  Since "justifiable homicide" wasn't a term that exists in this case, Ellie and Myra dump the body and quickly head out of town (as shown in the title screen above), escaping to the big city where they can stay with their rich Uncle Ben (who's not related to Spider-Man....I think).

Myra literally has them eating out her hands.

The differences between Myra and Ellie are established pretty easily.  Ellie is very comfortable flaunting her body, taking a modeling position in Uncle Ben's agency, while Myra seems content to hang out on her Uncle's ranch where she can hang out with his young trophy wife (a gorgeous redhead who leads Myra into one of the film's sleazier twists) and have a romping relationship with a young man.  At the same time, Ellie agrees to help her Uncle out by delivering a package, which sets the film's noirish plot spiraling into plenty of conflicts.  Double Indemnity, which is considered by many to be the Alpha noir, is referenced by one of the film's more blunt characters; a not-so-sly nod to the pulpy tales that inspired writer/director Marks.

Cardboard Ex Machina.

Speaking of pulp, Uncle Ben is in business with two well-dressed and brutally efficient criminals, whose purpose is clearly to intercept the package and stop anyone who tries to get in its way.  The deadly duo is played by The Godfather's Alex Rocco and former Green Bay Packer running back Timothy Brown, and this pair of white-and-black "business associates" who are searching for a suitcase should clue most viewers in on why I mentioned Quentin Tarantino in the opening paragraph.

We didn't discuss foot massages in the '70s.

Though its effect on Pulp Fiction may draw some viewers (I only learned of the film while reading about films that influenced Tarantino), viewers of the film will find much more to respect about Marks' film, primarily due to the actresses who play Ellie and Myra.  Seventeen year-old Robin Mattson - who went on to a long career in soap opera television - is perfectly cast as Myra, and the ease with which she wavers between innocence and rage should connect with any viewer who's ever had to deal with an angry teenage girl.  When Mattson is allowed to let her anger out she shouts and shakes and grits her teeth, all effectively, which leads to some memorable outbursts.  Most notable is definitely the final confrontation between her and her "kinda Aunt" played by Lenore Stevens, a vicious scene that ends with a bang and helps cement how dangerous Myra can be.

I really don't understand the purpose of the fluffy bikini.

And then there is Ellie.  Oh my.  Ellie is played by one of my favorite beauties of the '70s - Tiffany Bolling.  A graduate of Playboy magazine, Bolling would go on to assist William Shatner in the all-too-awesome Kingdom of the Spiders and to stare down the maniacal killer of The Centerfold Girls.  But her turn as Ellie puts most B-movie roles to shame, allowing her to heat up the screen with her blonde hair and long legs while she manipulates the men with ease.  Unlike her younger sister, Ellie understands the weapon of a body that she possesses and tries to use it wisely - which settles her firmly into the classic role of the femme fatale.  The men that surround her - primarily the ones played by Steve Sandor and Max "Grandpa Fred from Sixteen Candles" Showalter - quickly follow the lead of whatever she says, and it's easy to understand why when we see how she acts around men.  

Here are Bolling and Showalter, more than 10 years before Long Duk Dong.

One of the most telling scenes in the film comes early on, when Uncle Ben discusses Ellie's modeling career - while looking at very nude photos of his niece - and a smirking Ellie replies to repeated suggestions from him with a monotone "I'll do anything that you say".  The distracted male doesn't quite know what he's up against, and the smirk on Bolling's face quietly tells the viewer that she's got more control over he situation than her Uncle thinks.  Other males in the film are more vocally caught up in Ellie's charms, with my favorite moment possible coming when Sandor's character proclaims that Ellie has "the bitchinest legs I've ever seen".

They definitely aren't bad legs.

Bonnie's Kids sounds kind of sleazy - and it is kind of sleazy, to be fair - but there's something about this drive-in version of a pulp noir novel that elevates the material above simple exploitation fare.  As far as dramas go, It's a movie that exists somewhere in the area between The Maltese Falcon and Showgirls. I'm not entirely sure what that means, but I like the balance that Marks' film strikes between classic crime story and sleazy sex movie.  Plus, there's really not much sex in it at all.  You don't need the sex when you imply as much sex as Tiffany Bolling does.

This is not Tiffany Bolling, but it is implied sex.

Bonnie's Kids probably wasn't the best thing to play at a grindhouse in the '70s, but I feel like it's criminally underrepresented in the discussion of cult cinema.  This is an artistic movie with some great visuals, some terrific performances, and a nice little stamp on pop culture of the future.  And it's got Tiffany Bolling, and if she can't melt your defenses then I'm not sure there's hope for you.  Bonnie's Kids has everything from calculated hitmen to lesbian accusations to pet rats to the Grandpa from Sixteen Candles (pretty sure I mentioned him already, but it needs repeated), and when you add that all to everything else I love about it, it leaves me proclaiming it to be a total blast.