Only now does it occur to me... SANTA WITH MUSCLES (1996)

Only now does it occur to me...  I never thought I'd witness a Christmas-themed off-brand lightsaber duel between Ed Begley, Jr. and Hulk Hogan.

 

 

And yet, this is indeed the final setpiece of SANTA WITH MUSCLES, a comedy-fantasy-actioner produced by Jordan Belfort, the real-life inspiration for THE WOLF OF WALL STREET. This last part actually makes sense, given that this is a movie which smacks deeply of money laundering.

I can give you a little more context, even though you haven't asked for it.

 

The premise of SANTA WITH MUSCLES is that Hulk Hogan plays a rich jerk who made his fortune in questionable dietary supplements

and spends his days lecturing his sizeable staff about philosophy, self-defense, and paintball.

During one of the Hulkster's paintball tournaments, his scofflaw behavior attracts the attention of the local police (depicted by Clint Howard, lending this a real New World Pictures/lesser Corman vibe).

In the subsequent chase sequence, the Hulkster suffers a brain injury leaving him convinced that he is Santa Claus.

When gang members mess with him at a local mall, the Hulkster's heroic actions––in character as Santa––earn him minor celebrity as "Santa With Muscles."'

Note: S&M accoutrement

This leads to his involvement with a local orphanage, which is under siege from the minions of mad scientist Ed Begley, Jr. The orphanage sits upon a cave of magic crystals which Begley, Jr. requires for his experiments (?).

The orphanage also contains the theatrical film debut of Mila Kunis,

who manages to emerge from this thing relatively unscathed, 

even though she is saddled with one-liners like "Keep your pants on, Q-tip!"

As far as I can tell, the only time she has been asked about this in adult life was during a 2011 interview with GQ. The following represents the extent of her public comment:

GQ: [asks about Santa with Muscles]

Mila Kunis: Jesus. You did not watch Santa with Muscles.

GQ: Fine. I watched the trailer on YouTube.

Mila Kunis: I was too young to fully understand the importance of working with Hulk Hogan. I just thought he was this huge man.

That's just shoddy journalism, GQ, only watching the trailer. That's why you come to Junta Juleil's Culture Shock, to learn all the important info the glossies and the trades are too lazy to tell you.

The orphanage also contains Adam Wylie, a.k.a. "the kid from PICKET FENCES,"

and Garrett Morris (SATURDAY NIGHT LIVE from 1975-1980, COOLEY HIGH, THE STUFF). The earnestness of Garrett's performance actually makes me sad that they made him do this. He deserves better.

Anyway, Begley Jr.'s interest in the magic crystal cave is what leads to the aforementioned ersatz lightsaber duel. It's not the first time that the Hulkster has flirted with a STAR WAR. Happy holidays, I suppose?

Film Review: EATING RAOUL (1982, Paul Bartel)

Stars: 5 of 5.
Running Time: 83 minutes.
Notable Cast or Crew: Paul Bartel, Mary Woronov, Robert Beltran (LONE WOLF MCQUADE, BIG LOVE, NIXON), Richard Paul (THE PEOPLE VS. LARRY FLYNT, EXORCIST II), Ed Begley, Jr., John Landis cameo. Co-written by Richard Blackburn (LEMORA: A CHILD'S TALE OF THE SUPERNATURAL).
Tag-lines: "Meet the Blands! They're square . . . They're in love . . . And they kill people."
Best one-liner: "Well, there's one consideration. If you'd done what he asked, he would have died anyway."
Best exchange: "I'm the host here, goddammit, now get out of your clothes and get into the hot tub, or get out! We don't want any wet blankets or spoilsports at this party...we're here to SWING!" "-Yeah, well, swing on THIS!"

EATING RAOUL takes elements of film noir, the Roger Corman school of B-movies, John Waters, and the traditions of its own inimitable director and star, Paul Bartel, and coagulates them into a dark, hilarious, and gritty L.A. masterpiece that I feel is superior to the other great early 80's oddball cult comedies like REPO MAN. This is good "quirky" (a giant wine pillow?!) before quirky got sold up the river and commercialized.

Self-produced for nearly nothing by Bartel and his parents, the film has an attention to detail which is exquisite: half the jokes are visual or aural cues buried in the scene or dubbed in later, which become the filmic equivalent of the tiny, jokey, tucked away illustrations in the classic issues of Mad Magazine. (And with a greater degree of subtlety than, say, AIRPLANE.)

Bartel and frequent collaborator Mary Woronov prove themselves to be one of the all-time great cinematic teams: if you will, the 70's and 80's demented cult answer to Tracey and Hepburn. (They acted together in 18 films, and Bartel directed her in 5.)

As always, their dynamic is perfect, making even obvious jokes uproarious due to their low-key, matter-of-fact presentation.

The film knows what lines to cross (race, swingers, fetishists), exactly how far to go without being gratuitous, and its humor is definitely a precursor and influence on contemporary awkward hilarity such as ARRESTED DEVELOPMENT. Five stars. And special note: this movie has nearly nothing to do with cannibalism, yet I frequently see it lumped in with DELICATESSEN, SWEENEY TODD or other films of that ilk, which is absurd.

As an angering side note, the current R1 DVD transfer image is unduly elongated and basically sucks. But still see it!


-Sean Gill

Film Review: BLUE COLLAR (1978, Paul Schrader)

Stars: 5 of 5.
Running Time: 114 minutes.
Notable Cast or Crew: Harvey Keitel, Richard Pryor, Yaphet Kotto (THE PARK IS MINE!, ALIEN, EYE OF THE TIGER), Cliff de Young (THE HUNGER, DR. GIGGLES, THE SUBSTITUTE), Ed Begley, Jr. (CAT PEOPLE, Stan Sitwell on TV's ARRESTED DEVELOPMENT, TRANSYLVANIA 6-500).
Tag-lines: "Whatever became of the "American Dream?"
Best exchange: (while watching THE JEFFERSONS) "Now that shit is pitiful. I dunno how in the fuck a nigga like that gets some money anyway. This is the dumbest shit - look at this muthafucka. Look like a muthafuckin' ostrich. Look at that shit . . ." "––If you hate it so much, why dontcha just turn it off?" "Turn it off? Are you kiddin' baby? Took me three years to pay for that muthafucka. We gon' watch everything they show on it. All the shit they show. Even the snow when the muthafucka go off, I'm gonna sit here and watch that."
Fun trivia note: Pryor evidently punched Keitel and hit Kotto with a chair during filming.

Possibly the greatest movie ever made on the subject of how, no matter what machinations, logic, luck, or hard work are in play, the Average Joe still gets screwed. Paul Schrader is an absolute genius when it comes to channeling existential masculine frustrations (and the raw fury and/or crippling impotence that generally results), and has made this (sometimes self) examination the centerpiece of his oeuvre. Whether it be a cabbie's hatred of society achieving catharsis through pimp-killing (TAXI DRIVER), a Bible Belt father's quest to find his daughter amidst the grime of the sex industry (HARDCORE), a palooka's attempts to reconcile his life with his fists (RAGING BULL), a male prostitute reassessing his self-worth (AMERICAN GIGOLO), or a writer who feels that that words are no longer enough (MISHIMA), Schrader makes sure that you UNDERSTAND them, understand clearly how their thought processes work, and how they get from point A to point B. In BLUE COLLAR, our heroes (a pugnacious but sympathetic Harvey Keitel, a hot-tempered but family-minded Richard Pryor, and a jaded but passionately loyal Yaphet Kotto) are certainly flawed, but they're men that have been forced into a corner. (The performances are insane, intense, and perfect: Keitel, as always, is semi-nude and fully committed, Kotto is at his most raw and powerful since BONE, and Pryor brings a crazed desperation to the role that makes you wish he had taken the dramatic route more often in his career.)

The problem is, the powers that be have such an immaculate system- pitting poor against poor, black against white - that all of that bottled up righteous anger ends up getting unleashed at the wrong time, at the wrong people. Its a tragic drama that plays out over and over and over, and Schrader's film is a as much a Fuck You to the fatcat bosses and corrupt unions as it is a begrudging realization that there's just no way to stop people from marching to their doom. The performances are astounding, and Schrader, in his directorial debut, reveals the true breadth of his talent.

I really don't want to reveal a single detail about this film, but one scene involving industrial chemicals and a confined space, is one of the most claustrophobic, viscerally horrifying things I have ever seen, and for that, it bears special mention. Five stars.

-Sean Gill