The Hollywood Strangler Meets the Skid Row Slasher

Unapologetically lowbrow sleaze, and pretty potent to boot, "Hollywood Strangler" is an undervalued keyhole-peek at raging lustmord and urban decay. Similar to the 50s classic DAUGHTER OF HORROR in its dialog-free presentation, the film is largely narrated through the inner-thoughts of a diabolical madman...his warped mind surging with rabid hatred of females which drives him to strangle. And strangle again...and again...

By and by, he becomes intrigued by a staunch female bookshop clerk who, unbeknownst to him, is a serial killer as well. With switchblade in-hand, she helps to rid the L.A. streets of the drunks and degenerates she so passionately detests. The eventual collision of these two psychotic personas results in a most unnerving tango.

Ingenious use of dingy backstreet locations is beneficial to the asphalt-and-pavement grittiness of this film, the camera leering voyeuristically upon smut-theater marquees and random profligate sluts tramping about in booby-buster tanktops and cheek-peek short-shorts. Ultra-minimalist cinema defined...a shining star on the index of one of filmdom's most peripheral figures.

7/10

Hollywood, 1979. It doesn't get much sleazier than this.

Jonathan Click (perhaps a long lost brother of Mad Dog Click?) is a pigeon petting loner whose bitter memories of some girl named Marcia lead him to strangle hot young "models" in Hollywood. At the same time, frumpy used bookstore owner Carolyn Brandt is getting sick and tired of all the winos who stumble into her store to swig from their bottles, so she rams a switchblade into their throats. Jonathan becomes infatuated with Carolyn and spends much of the film stalking her around Hollywood. When he gets up the nerve to go into her store, they spend a silent eternity staring at each other over the racks of three ring binders and LPs for sale, but never speaking. When Carolyn isn't knifing bums or staring into space with a never-changing expression of boredom mixed with slight gassiness on her face, she's running up and down the beach in an unflattering jogging suit. There's no police work here, no world weary detectives trying to catch Jonathan or Carolyn before they can strike again, just two mediocre killers going about their daily routines. But, there's also a lot of gratuitous nudity provided by some halfway pretty girls, so it's not a total loss for those who enjoy a little T&A.

This is one of Steckler's most depressing films, and I'm not sure if it's the lack of dialog, the repetitive "action" or the subject matter that makes it so. Maybe Ray was just in a crappy mood that week. Fans of his early films - Rat Pfink, Incredibly Strange Creatures and Thrill Killers - may be disappointed with this one, but the commentary by Joe Bob Briggs on the newly released DVD version is very enjoyable, funny and informative and makes the film much more bearable.

At this point in his filmmaking career, Ray Dennis Steckler had become obsessed with making his movies for as little money as possible. What he does here is an amusing study in minimalist filmmaking. It doesn't matter if it wouldn't exactly have been up for any Oscars, it remains a curious, watchable oddity for its mercifully brief 71 minute running time. As one might guess, there's not a whole lot of story here. The movie concerns two characters who we know are destined to come together at some point. Pierre Agostino is The Hollywood Strangler, a photographer by trade who's come to regard his models and other assorted young women as "bad" and in need of punishment. Yeah, we've seen guys like him in movies like this before. Carolyn Brandt, Steckler's ex-wife and frequent collaborator, is the other character whom we follow around, a bookstore employee who, when she's not staring off into space or jogging on the beach, is offing drunken bums with her handy switchblade. It's only a matter of time before these two like minded individuals are going to make the move of introducing themselves to one another. In the meantime, it's important to note that Steckler wasn't too interested in using microphones, so he filmed this as a virtual silent movie, a bold move for any exploitation film made during this time period. (Stock) music, sound effects, dialogue and narration were all added later. And what a hoot that narration is, hilariously written and hilariously performed, adding some spice to a leisurely paced pile of cinematic trash. The major point of interest with this thing is viewing it as a series of snapshots of a particular place - Hollywood Boulevard and its series of adult businesses - during a specific era, in this case, the late 1970s. That's really what makes it fascinating, although what's good for a great deal of entertainment are Agostino's expressions and Brandt's *lack* of expressions. Adventuresome sleaze lovers are certain to find this an acceptable diversion; others beware. It comes complete with numerous breast shots, shots of legs kicking as female victims get killed, various sexy outfits, and a generous helping of that endearingly tacky bright red movie blood. Seven out of 10.

Well, what can I say about this one? It follows a serial killer and his killing while he falls in love with a woman that is also a serial killer.

But it is good? 5/10, it's ok to watch but nothing special. There is so many better serial killer movies from the 70s. But it's ok enough to watch one time when you are bored. I like that it follows the killers mind and perspective, gives the movie a little bit more depth why he kills then just random killing. Did I expect more from this? No, not really. I did think it would be a love story but hah, that I totally got it wrong!

The acting is ok, scenes are ok, movie overall is ok.

OK you probably know Steckler as the mastermind behind The Incredible Strange Creatures that Stopped Living and Became Mixed-up Zombies!, but this turd is probably without peer in the world of b-movie schlock. OK maybe not. But it's probably the first silent movie to be made in the 70's! Steckler dubs dialogue whenever quote unquote actors are not facing the screen and there's a constant grating monologue by Pierre Agostino running in the background. In the true nature of serial killers, he uses the exact same order of shots every killing! Pure genius. Anyhow watch this with the Joe Bob Briggs commentary on and a six pack, and you'll be pleasantly amused. Trash heaven. Long live Steckler.