The Skydivers

I was cruising IMDb and was checking out the Bottom 100 because I wanted to see if "Manos" was given a boost after the Entertainment Weekly story. What a pleasant surprise to see that "The Skydivers," the movie that I said was the worst I'd ever seen when I rubbernecked it twenty five years ago, has taken its rightful place at the top…I mean, the bottom.

For a while, I thought perhaps the WOAT tag should have gone to a woeful idea for a teen comedy called "Nice Girls Don't Explode," starring archetypal pretty-girl-trapped-by-a-nerd's-psyche Michelle Meyrink, but then I found my Beta cassette of "Skydivers" and came to my senses.

You've heard of "shoestring budgets" – this movie had a dental floss budget. Everything you need to know about the lack of cash Coleman Francis suffered is in an early scene in which a car – a junker with what looks like latex paint strokes across it – pulls up at the airport. As the car stops, the passenger door flies open. The driver gets out, there is dialogue I can't remember (but I'm sure it was as inane as the infamous coffee line), and the driver and another person get into the car. The driver gets in the driver's seat, the other person gets in the passenger's seat, closes the door, and sticks his arm out the open window to hold the door closed! Francis didn't have a friend who could lend him a car with properly operating doors?

Even the centerpiece of the movie – the skydiving footage – is ridiculously inept. And "Skydivers" has the most unconvincing love scene on celluloid – there's even less chemistry between those two than there was between Hayden Christiansen and Natalie Portman in "Revenge of the Sith." At least "Manos" made a lame attempt at titillation with the ladies wrestling in lingerie.

It's a shame I have to give "Skydivers" one star in order to vote (especially when there are apparent "Manos" anti-fans who are giving "Skydivers" 10 stars). When it comes to bad movies, "Skydivers" is back where it belongs: Number One with an ICBM.

This film tells the turgid tale of a man named Harry who is cheating on his wife (who is played by an actress named Kevin), who is cheating on him with his ol' war buddy Joe. At one point Harry dies, I think. The film-makers were a bit ambivalent on this point.

Anyway, this is a total movie-going experience. For one thing, Tony Cardoza, in the role of Harry, cannot act. Well, make that "DOESN'T" act. He says every line in the same monotone voice. It doesn't matter if his Skydiving Center is being shut down or he suspects his wife & best friend are making out on ladder or it's his turn to pick a song at the jukebox: HE NEVER CHANGES HIS EXPRESSION! It's pretty entertaining.

Don't worry, the supporting cast more than makes up for Cardoza's lack of a screen presence. Apparently director Coleman Francis stuck in all his odd, lumpy friends in the background of this epic. There's the excited Scotsman in his kilt, a manly woman who beats up a scrawny, Iggy Pop-esque fellow while dancing, a noodly retarded photographer, a bland guy holding a guitar for no apparant reason, a beatnik holding a rooster, a gal who wears Roller Skates and an Ice skating outfit no matter where she is (including a bar), a perky gal in a polka-dot bikini dancing at the airfield (the camera focuses on her buttocks for 75% of the dance sequence), the confused millionaire, the weasly lawyer (wonderfully played by Harold Saunders from Francis' Red Zone Cuba), the confused old lady in a straw hat, the excited immigrant girl, and Steve, the creepy, stubbly Skydiver who falls to his death after yelling that skydiving is "FUN"!

Personally, I love all of Coleman Francis' unique films. Each chapter in his trilogy paints a portrait of a dark, plane-obsessed man who drank a lot.

And that's just fine with me.

Another reviewer speaks somewhat poorly of the musician in this movie, which is a shame.

The "Jimmy Bryant & The Night Jumpers" credited in this movie is actually just "Jimmy Bryant", a fantastic guitarist who is considered a great by other great guitar players. How he was unlucky enough to end up in this stinkbomb of a movie is unknown, and his music was used to poor effect in the film, but trust me.... he's a great guitarist. (or was... he's passed on now.)

Leave it to Tony Cardoza (and Coleman Francis) to take a good musician and make him look bad.

Look here for some info about Jimmy Bryant:

http://www.allmusic.com/cg/amg.dll?p=amg&sql:3b8o1v0jzzva

Little could directors like Coleman Francis, Roger Corman, and Hal Warren imagine that their catastrophic pieces of celluloid excrement would, one day, bring so much joy to future generations. With the help of Mike, Joel, and a couple of robots, of course. Make no mistake, "Skydivers", along with "Plan 9 From Outer Space", "Manos, the Hands of Fate", etc... represents film-making at its lowest level. Lousy directing, flimsy storyline, complete lack of character development, crappy lighting, botched sound, laughable continuity, and, what might be the worst acting I've ever seen all make for a uniquely surreal experience.

While on the subject of acting, I, and other reviewers, are not kidding when we say that every actor seems to be reading from cue cards. After enduring "Skydivers", I immediately watched another MST3K masterpiece, "Sidehackers". As bad as "Sidehackers" was, Ross Hagen (Rommel, "I read your book, you magnificent S.O.B.!") was Laurence Olivier compared to Anthony Cardoza. So, in its raw form, I would highly recommend avoiding this hack job at all costs. However, if you're a fan of MST3K, this is actually one of the best episodes I've seen.

Never before in the annals of cinematic history has there risen a film so intensely stupid that it makes Jeff Foxworthy's "You Might Be A Redneck" monologues look staid and deeply philosophical.

This film stars a thin, joyless, gray man who runs a skydiving school with his large-haired, joyless, gray wife who, it seems, might be cheating on him. It's just as well, because I think he may have also been cheating on her. Really, I don't remember. I just finished watching it, and I cannot remember a single thing about it, other than the fact that a lot of it was gray.

A gray friend of the man is recently released from prison or something, and he comes to work at the school as the gray man's airplane mechanic. A romance of some kind may or may not have sparked between the gray friend and the gray man's gray wife - although my memory of it is a bit hazy - and gray woman and gray friend hatch a plot to kill the gray man (or something like that).

Stuff happens, including reels and reels of stock footage showing people jumping out of planes (gray), as well as a huge dance party inexplicably taking place on the tarmac where the gray man parks his gray plane, complete with various other gray people and music performed by, I would assume, gray musicians. (They were never shown.) The movie ends when somebody dies, but not before Coleman Francis, the evil demon behind this film, as well as the abysmal "Red Zone Cuba", makes his standard bland appearance, looking for all the world like an angry Curly Howard from the Three Stooges, and probably thinking himself pretty clever because of this ridiculous Hitchcockian tribute to himself.

As the title of this review states, I want to hit this movie, over and over again, to quell the feeling that Coleman Francis and his minions have consumed my soul, and I am left a dark, bitter husk of a man.

But maybe that's just me.