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Jugez-les bien (1961)
A canary in a coal mine would be safer than living above Richard's gas station.
Wow! This French thriller had me on the edge of my seat. The film begins behind the closed doors of a jury room where the members are arguing about the fate of a man who strangled his wife in a jealous rage. The room is split between the guillotine and ten years hard labor until one juror, Cassel (played brilliantly by Paul Frankeur), convinces his peers to acquit the guilty man by appealing to their emotions, asking each one, "Would you have done the same thing if you were in his shoes?"
Richard, the wife strangler, is now free and walking along a lonely beach where he spies an attractive skinny-dipping flight attendant, Dany (played by the beautiful Magali Vendeuil). He works his boyish charms on her and before you know it, they're making plans to marry. Dany is unaware of Richard's past but that changes quickly as her father turns out to be Cassel, the forgiving juror, and he reveals to her Richard's secret. Dany pauses for a few seconds and decides to marry Richard anyway.
As a wedding gift, Dany's friends give her a canary in a bird cage which is pretty much the harbinger for the rest of the film; Dany is secluded away above a dingy gas station that was gifted to Richard. The gas station is on a lonely stretch of highway were few travelers stop. Even seclusion doesn't lessen Richard's insane jealousy as he melts down when anyone happens to glance at his bride.
Despite Richard's insane jealously, Dany loves him unconditionally but he's too blind to see it. Richard works himself up to a deadly fervor. Can Dany survive Richard's wraith? Hunt down this classic and find out for yourselves.
Superb directorial duties by actor, Rager Saltel elevate this film above a simple crime drama. Double Verdict was the first of only two films Saltel directed and that's a shame because Double Verdict is a suspenseful film with not a wasted frame. Another surprise to me, after I checking her IMDb filmography, was that Magali Vendeuil, who played Dany, only had twelve film credits to her name, yet, appeared in films every ten years for five decades (1952 to 1996).
If you are a film noir or Hitchcock fan, this little 1961 French thriller will give you plenty of darkness and chills. I highly recommend it.
A hierro muere (1962)
A little Argentinian thriller that rivals some of the best French New Wave.
Kill and Be Killed is a very fun Argentinian noir-esque thriller starring Olga Zubarry (Dubarry in the credits) as, Elisa, a former jewel thief who has been released from a five-year stint in prison and, with the help of her mother, she procures a job working as a nurse for a retired prima donna opera singer; her mother happens to be the singer's caretaker. Just as Elisa is settling into her nursing duties, she meets and is smitten by, Fernando, the singer's debonair nephew.
We soon discover that Fernando is a womanizing, broke, leech who hangs around the estate just to receive hand-outs from his aunt. Elisa, who is ignorant of Fernanando's debauchery, falls in love with the slob and the two make plans on poisoning the aunt and running away to get married. Of course, Fernando has no intention of consummating the courtship, as he has his eyes on a young, beautiful cabaret singer.
I don't want to spoil anything for you but the film spins a wonderful web of suspicion and uncertainty involving a meddling doctor, the meddling doctor's son, a cold-blooded murder, a doubting detective, Hitchcockian train shenanigans and an ending to satisfy any noir fan.
The story and the acting are excellent but it is the cinematography by Manuel Berenguer that is the real star; his use of high-contrast lighting, fluid camera movements and complex framing add to the suspense and rivals anything coming out of France at the time.
I highly recommend this one.
The Institute (2012)
The Blair Witch Institute
A wonderful interactive street-art project based on the philosophies originated by the Church of the SubGenius, the band DEVO, the David Cronenberg film Videodrome and the television miniseries Wild Palms is turned into a very tedious mockumentary. Unfortunately, unless you participated in the analog-geocaching-role-playing-game, watching The Institute can be a very eye-rolling experience. Much of the film is filled with poorly acted re-enactments, hokey "found footage" and phony interviews.
If you make it past the sixty minute mark, it becomes very apparent that you are watching a semi-talented improv-group's re-imagining of David Fincher's The Game starring Michael Douglas. I love ingenious street-art and clever stunts and would have loved to have watched a serious documentary about how the artist(s) came up with this very well thought-out hoax, but to sit down and watch what you know is a joke, gets very tiring and very boring very quickly.
Cheerleader Massacre (2003)
Great Cover Art! - Awful Video!
Before I start, I need to inform you that I love horror films with a passion. LOVE THEM! I have seen thousands and rarely does one come along that I do not like. I am very forgiving of the horror genre. One of the greatest lines in movie history is in the film "Ed Wood" where Ed Wood (Johnny Depp) freaks out and yells at the overly critical producers after they comment on "Plan 9's" cheap sets and continuity problems, "You don't know anything! Haven't you ever heard of 'suspension of disbelief?!'" Well, I try to bring that "suspension of disbelief" philosophy with me to every horror film I see and it usually works. Unfortunately, it didn't work for me during the screening of Cheerleader Massacre.
Strike One:
The first thing you'll notice about this "film" is that it is shot on video and has that crummy hand-held-home-digital-camera style. The camera work and quality are so bad it makes daytime soaps look breathtaking in comparison. In fact, it makes Troma and Full Moon video releases look good. And, that's bad.
Strike Two:
Jim Wynorski. This "filmmaker" probably fancies himself a chip off the ol' Corman, but nothing could be further from the truth. Roger Corman shot fast, furious and under budget, but was able to deliver a tight original film. Though Wynorski delivers a cheap film, he cheats his viewers (and perhaps other artists) as he steals entire pieces of James Horner's "Humanoids From The Deep" and "Battle Beyond The Stars" musical scores and inappropriately drops them into Cheerleader Massacre. On the back of the box art and during the beginning credits the music score is falsely attributed to, Dan Savio (an extra in Wynorski's "Deathstalker II"). You will also notice how Cheerleader Massacre jumps from video to film and back again as Wynorski lifts entire scenes from both "Slumber Party Massacre" and "Humanoids From the Deep." Wynorski utilized this deception, fourteen years earlier, in his horrible version of "Not of This Earth."
Strike Three (you're out):
While Cheerleader Massacre does have some nudity, (40-year-olds playing teenagers and the grossest set of fake breasts that I have ever seen in a horror film, ugh), the murders are relatively bloodless. What the heck is that all about? The film is titled, Cheerleader Massacre, but a handful of off-screen killings, in my opinion, does not add up to a massacre. It doesn't even add up to a bad mosquito bite.
The "film's" story is fair enough - unseen killer stalks a vanload of cheerleaders (old gals playing teens) until the van runs out of gas and the "girls" are forced to hold up in secluded two-story mountain home. I won't ruin the ending for you but this is one of those "films" where the person who is obviously the killer is not obviously the killer. Cheerleader Massacre would have been great if it were shot on film, directed by Joseph Zito and had special effects by Tom Savini. Instead it is an effect-less, shot-on-video travesty by Jim Wynorski. Ouch.
I beg of you, please don't buy or rent this abomination. If we keep supporting these clowns, the more of this talentless video garbage they'll produce. Go out and rent "The Prowler", "The Last House on Dead End Street", "Delirium" or "The Burning" instead. You'll be glad you did.
Carnival Magic (1983)
Day of the Escape From Plan 9's Outer Space Carnival of The Apes
The wonderful thing about living in Seattle is being able to choose among the many revival theaters that we film snobs have access to. On any given weekend we can choose between horror epics like Evil Dead, Psycho and Carrie; John Hughes' teen-angst epics like Sixteen Candles, The Breakfast Club and Pretty In Pink; or just plain obscure epics like Al Adamson's Carnival Magic.
Now, Carnival Magic comes nowhere close to resembling an epic in the Cecil B. DeMille vein, but does remind me of a particularly painful epic experience that I had at the dentist's office when I was around ten. The dentist pried, drilled, scraped and pulled for what seemed to have been ten hours and after the enamel and bone dust settled, I was a couple of pounds lighter and a much stronger human animal. If you are "fortunate" enough to witness Carnival Magic, I am willing to wager that your experience will approximate my dental adventure.
Carnival Magic is a children's film (I think) that "stars" Don Stewart as Markov the Magician (imagine a young Harvey Keitel). Markov is a magician who has the genuine ability to read minds, levitate and bend steel bars. When not performing one miraculous feat after the other, Markov meditates and hangs out with his English-speaking chimpanzee companion, Alex (yes, you read that right). On one ominous day, the carnival owner's daughter begs Markov to put Alex into his act to save her father's fledgling fair. Markov begrudgingly agrees. At first, ticket sales soar and Markov and Alex are carny heroes. Unfortunately, the jealous alcoholic tiger-tamer, who was once the main attraction, becomes tired of playing second fiddle to the damn dirty ape and decides to kidnap Alex and sell him to a vivisectionist.
As I'm sure you have surmised, Carnival Magic is sort of a simian version of Day of The Dolphin but, regrettably, Al Adamson is no Mike Nichols and Don Stewart is sure as Hell no George C. Scott.
This film contains endless scenes of North Carolinians (nothing against people from North Carolina, it's just where it was filmed) riding carnival rides, playing games and eternally sitting watching Markov perform his magic. Occasionally, the film kicks out of "She Freak" gear and grinds into never-ending inane dialogs between Markov and the other fair folk. In one infinite scene we discover how a former beauty queen is transformed, without supernatural assistance, from Miss Arkansas to Markov's assistant through a series of hard-luck choices she has made. Watching paint dry can be more fun.
I won't give away the big surprise ending, but if you make it that far you deserve the big payoff - bring plenty of Kleenex.
Critics and so-called film fans endlessly rail on about Edward D. Wood, Jr.s' Plan 9 From Outer Space, heralded as the "worst film ever made", (obviously, these people have never seen "Eight Heads in a Duffle Bag"), but you never hear anyone giving speeches about Carnival Magic. Well, that's just plain wrong. Carnival Magic is a cinematic endurance test of the highest caliber. It takes a magnanimous spirit to sit through an entire screening of Carnival Magic but once you do, you'll be altered forever.
Sitting through this film rather reminded me of my younger-self sitting in that unholy dentist chair. Sure, I had to white-knuckle it through the entire process, but it has made me a stalwartly cinema survivor. If I can sit through that, I can take anything they throw at me. If you consider yourself a true cinemaphile, (you must if you've read this far), you owe it to yourself to see Carnival Magic. Take it from me, you'll be a stronger viewer for it.
Surf II (1983)
Another GREAT forgotten film from the self-indulgent 80's.
I've just returned (literally) from seeing Surf II at Olympia, Washington's All-Freakin' Night Film Festival (10/12/02). It was the last movie shown in a series of five that started at 12:00 midnight. Now, I don't know if it was the fact that the movie began at 9:00am and my sleep-deprived brain was more susceptible to a `lower' comedy plane, but Hell, you sit in a theater for ten straight hours and you'll start wondering why Ron Palillo has been repeatedly snubbed at Oscar time for the `Life-time Achievement Award.'
I know this is a cliché, but Surf II is one of those films that needs be seen to be believed. It would be grossly unfair to rate this film with anything less than a 10. A 10 for the shear audacity the filmmakers had when concocting this masterpiece and a 10 for the fact that you will never, never, never see this kind of film being made for movie theaters ever again. Ever!
The `plot' revolves around two surfers' fathers who go into business together peddling a soft drink (Buzz Cola) to their surfer sons' surfer friends. The soda, invented by a nefarious revenge-driven nerd (played brilliantly by Eddie Deezen), causes the young surfers to become garbage-consuming zombies with a punk rock fashion sense (dyed mohawks, ripped up wetsuits held together by safety pins and far too much make-up).
Between the zombie `action' sequences, is much archival surfing footage (ala Bruce Brown) with 60's surf and 80's new wave music provided for your listening pleasure. There is also a hilarious above-the-waste nude scene involving two young hotties (one played by Brinke Stevens) that are trying to gain the attention of their surf-obsessed dates who are so involved in their surf reminiscences that they don't even notice the two beautiful half-naked girls.
Should you see this film if you get a chance? Well, let's break it down: If you were born before 1950 and remember who MacCarthy (ventriloquist dummy included) was, no! If you were born after 1975 and most of your `movie going' experience took place in front of a cathode ray, NO! But, if you're old enough to still get excited by the two words, `Dale Bozzio', then you are in, my friend. You are in!
Privilege (1967)
Before Britney, there was Steve.
Privilege is one of those `lost' rarely screened masterpieces that always seem to end up on some critic's top-ten list, but you almost never know anyone who has seen the film. It is no wonder no one has seen this film it has never been available on video (except for crummy bootlegs), it's not shown on television any longer and revival theatres have long since forgotten about it. Why?
Privilege has much more pertinence now than it did back in 1967. Paul Jones (lead singer of Manfred Mann) plays Steve Shorter, a British manufactured rock-n-roll icon, who is shaped and molded into a tool used to sell every product imaginable. In one humorous moment, the British Apple Growers Association, having harvested far too many apples to be sold, hire Steve to do a commercial convincing each British person to eat six apples a day.
To the nation, Steve is a god. A symbol of everything that is pure and good. Steve can do no wrong. Unfortunately, Steve has no mind of his own and is easily led from concert-to-concert, commercial-to-commercial and meeting-to-meeting by his conniving, greedy managers. Everyone wants a piece of Steve. The mere mention of a product from Steve's lips will sway the entire nation's fashion sense if Steve wears black, the whole country wears black. His managers know this and there is no organization they will not sell him out to.
`The Church', in an act to attract more young members into its congregation, hires Steve to convince the nation's youth to become God-fearing Christians. But, this does not sit well with Steve who is becoming more cognizant of his surroundings through the help of a young artist played by sixties supermodel, Jean Shrimpton.
Privilege, even though rarely shown, is a surreal motion picture every film fanatic and music historian should seek out. With teeny-bop stars like Britney Spears, Christina Aguilera, Mandy Moore, Jessica Simpson and NSYNC sprouting up like so many invasive weeds, Privilege is very worthy of a second look. Hurry, please, before it is too late.
Mein Papi (1982)
Germany's Most Disturbing Home Videos!
Warning: This review contains spoilers!
It is hard to imagine an entire audience laughing at the main character in this film, but that's what they did at the Freiluftkino Hasenheide in Berlin. The papi (father) the title refers to is the director's biological beer-truck driving father. Mein Papi opened showings of Natural Born Killers in the summer of 1996. This laughing gave director Jörg Buttgereit immense pleasure due to the poor relationship he endured with his dad.
Having seen this film about 20 times, I've never found it funny. To me, it is a very disturbing look into the dysfunctional family unit. Clocking in at seven minutes, Mein Papi says more about family values than three hours of any Sally Fields' film you care to name. It is filmed entirely without father Buttgereit's knowledge - most of it with a hidden camera.
Mein Papi begins with a series of stills taken at the father's wedding. The slim Buttgereit Sr. in the photos looks very Germanic and handsome. Subsequent `hidden' camera shots (taken nearly twenty years later) show a man no longer resembling the striking young guy featured in the earlier pictures. Instead we find a scowling corpulent man in his fifties who seems to have no tolerance for his son's antics one clip captures the father busting into Jörg's room asking if he must play his music so loud.
In between filming his father eating, sleeping and watching television, subtitles inform of his father's medical history beginning with the removal of a brain tumor in 1973. We (the viewers) read as the father's health worsens and Jörg Buttgereit's mother dies of cancer in 1989. These details are presented in the film as startling cold facts with no revealed emotion.
As with all Buttgereit films, Mein Papi features a remarkable soundtrack. Max Muller & Gundula Schmitz provide the redundantly creepy composition with the words, `Mein Papi' being repeated continuously over the visuals. The father's health deteriorates and finally Jorg discovers him `dead in his armchair, in front of the television with coffee and cakes.'
Although there doesn't seem to be too much to laugh at, I believe it is a brilliant piece of filmmaking (as are all of Buttgereit's films). If you have a fairly strong character, I highly recommend you see it.
Out Cold (2001)
The Six Million Dollar Man Vs. Victoria Silvstedt
OK, I'm a sucker for this type of film. I know it's something we have all seen a million times, but, darn it - we NEED this type of movie.
Yeah, yeah, yeah
the story line's predictable: idyllic local winter ski haven (Bull Mountain) is under threat by a big-business tycoon's (Lee Majors) plans for turning it into a high rollers' resort town. And, yeah, yeah, yeah
the subplot is equally original: boy loses girl, boy wants girl back, girl has fiancé, boy must go through trials and tribulations to win girl back, etcetera, etcetera, ad nauseum. Add a few crass scenarios, a big-breasted beauty (Victoria Silvstedt), beer and you've got yourself another boring teen-sex comedy. Right? Not so fast, partner.
Out Cold joins the ranks of other great teen comedies (Animal House, Better Off Dead, Caddyshack, and the hundreds of others) in its magical ability to stop time if just for a moment. Like its predecessors, Out Cold captures that youthful time when friends surround us, we are having the time of our lives and the party never seems like it is going to end. Those are our `rites of passage' years - generally, between the ages of 16-25 - nine very short years.
Out Cold takes place in the fictional tiny-town of Bull Mountain, Colorado - elevation 10,000 feet a winter wonderland of snow, skiing and snowboarding. A place where there's always fluffy powder to plow through and a hilarious friend is at every corner you turn. There's always the local pub to chill in after a hard day of playing the characters in these movies all have jobs but no one seems to work. Loneliness is not an option. That's what makes this movie (these movies) great.
Out Cold isn't just about gross-out gags with guys running around trying to get laid, it's about the escapism that these films offer. Even if you've never experienced the perfect winter or summer vacation even if you've never gone to that ivy-league school where no student has homework even if you've only dreamt about spending time at exotic locales with fun in the sun/snow this is the reason why we NEED this type of movie. If only for ninety minutes, these movies offer a fantasy or nice remembrances of times gone by (or, to come.)
For all of you naysayers out there who pooh-pooh this film on the account of its wonderfully juvenile content, I say, `Go see Harry Potter, you bombastic moralist and leave me alone!'
Ladies and Gentlemen, the Fabulous Stains (1982)
The best "punk" movie you've never seen.
Warning: Depending on how you look at it, this review contains spoilers.
I was fortunate enough to see Ladies and Gentlemen, The Fabulous Stains in 1983 during its VERY limited "art-house" run at Western Washington University. It played along with other punk rock classics such as Lech Kowalski's D.O.A. and Penelope Spheeris's Decline of Western Civilization. Unfortunately, I did not appreciate the film at the time. I was a young punk who had these "purist" ideals about what punk was all about. (Didn't we all?) I completely missed the film's message against uniformed conformity. The only thing I appreciated about the film was its down-and-out ending with the ultimate demise of Diane Lane's character.
Recently, at Seattle's Experience Music Project I (along with a couple hundred other lucky individuals) was treated to a special screening of this nearly forgotten classic.
Ladies and Gentlemen, the Fabulous Stains is the story of Corrine "Third Degree" Burns (Diane Lane) and her all-girl punk band called The Stains (Laura Dern & Marin Kanter). Initially, The Stains are given a chance to tour backing up a young English punk band The Looters & an old washed up heavy metal act The Metal Corpses. The Looters are Paul Cook & Steve Jones of the Sex Pistols and Paul Simonen of The Clash. The Metal Corpses feature Fee "Hey, is there any coke in this coke?" Waybill and Vince Welnick of The Tubes. Eventually The Stains generate a media frenzy, due mainly to Corrine's transparent blouse and rallying cries like "We're the Stains and we don't put out!" and "I'm a waste of time." They attract a large following of "skunks" - young girls who adopt Corrine's image as well as attitude.
I'll stop here to throw a little trivia your way. During the beginning credit sequence, Rob Morton is credited as the writer, but as we all know it was Nancy "Slap Shot" Dowd who actually wrote the screenplay. According to interviews with Dowd, there was sexual harassment on the set with terrible conflicts with the film's director Lou Adler. After a cameraman grabbed one of Dowd's breasts, she walked off the set and asked for her name to be stricken from the film. Dowd's confrontation caused Paramount to stall the release of the film. One year later, Paramount finally showed the film to a test audience (a group of spoiled Orange County brats). The audience whined about the downbeat ending. Waaaaah!!! To fulfill contractual obligations, Paramount released the film to literally a handful of "art houses."
The Fabulous Stains sat moldering on the shelves at Paramount for a couple of years until the USA channel asked for permission to air the film on their popular late-night show, Night Flight. Paramount agreed, but some brain-dead studio exec wanted to add a "happy ending". So, Paramount re-shot a confusing MTV style "happy ending" with Diane Lane, Laura Dern and Marin Kanter (THREE YEARS LATER!!!). These scenes are interesting to watch because Laura Dern had grown foot taller since the original filming. She ends up towering over her band-mates! Pretty funny.
More trivia: this will probably be the only time you will see Dangerhouse recording artist/owner (and punk legend!!!) Black Randy and his band, The Metrosquad perform their classic, "I Slept In An Arcade." Black Randy died of an AIDS related illness after being offered a "dirty" syringe from Dangerhouse partner Dave Brown. In addition, Black Randy portrays a Mexican classical guitarist sneaking into an audition as part of an amusing cameo.
Still more trivia: It is interesting to see the base similarities between Ladies & Gentlemen, the Fabulous Stains and Nancy Dowd scripted Slap Shot. Both films' main characters originate from the dark-dreary steel-mill town of Charlestown and eventually wind up escaping their dead-end lives via tour bus.
Despite the "happy ending," Ladies and Gentlemen, the Fabulous Stains should be required viewing for all those interested in punk history and to see the film that inspired many "riot-grrl" acts like Bikini Kill, Bratmobile, Cub, Sleater-Kinney and even Courtney "Hole" Love. Unfortunately, you will probably never see this film unless you buy a bootleg copy of it. It has never been available on video or DVD and Paramount has no plans on releasing it.
The Center of the World (2001)
I want my eight dollars back!
This is an excruciatingly awful film - strike that - an excruciatingly awful video that has been transferred to film. If you can not afford film, Mr. Wang, PLEASE curb your ego and release it directly to video.
The quality of the picture is terrible and the "story" is twice as bad. The "film" revolves around two of the most vacuous characters I have ever had the displeasure of watching on screen: Richard, a socially retarded software millionaire who pays Florence, an empty headed but street-wise stripper, ten thousand dollars to accompany him to Las Vegas for a weekend. In those three days, Richard naively hopes to win this bimbo's heart.
Over the course of the weekend we are subjected to watching the homely Florence play mind games with the idiot man-child, Richard. Richard's only relationship with women is masturbating in front of his computer monitor (shown in a flashback), which demonstrates that he is easily manipulated and an extremely pathetic human being.
I won't spoil the ending for you, but it actually doesn't matter if he ends up with her or not. What matters most is, you've just wasted eight or ten bucks (depending on where you live) on a cruel joke played by Wayne Wang.
Wang doesn't introduce one character worth empathizing with or even relating to on any level. Are we supposed to feel sorry for this bumbling twenty-something millionaire? Oh, the poor little rich boy. Are we supposed to care about the self-debasing affected stripper who only cares about money? How can you worry about someone who doesn't concern herself about anything or anyone? You can't!
Again, I have to go off on the quality of this "movie." It's horrible! The entire film was shot on video and it doesn't even look like digital video. Some of the scenes were so pixilated my eyes had a hard time focusing on the screen - and, I thought The Blair Witch Project's quality was bad.
I love independent film, but this isn't film - it's video. A very, very, very bad video.
The Party Animal (1984)
Goethe + Animal House = Party Animal!!!
In the vast realm of teen-sex comedies, The Party Animal is an anomaly. Opening with a thunderous bolt of lightning, the film's soundtrack pounds out The Buzzcocks' song, "Why Can't I Touch It," while the camera pans across one of the most hauntingly beautiful faces ever sculpted on a teenage girl. The ominously beautiful girl stands high above a winding road in which a pick-up truck loaded with turnips is seen cruising with the soon-to-be (Party Animal) lounging on top of the edible roots. So begins one of the greatest drive-in comedies ever made.
The story follows the exploits of twenty-two year old freshman college student, Pondo Sinatra, an obnoxious imposing blunderer whose only desire in life is to get laid and his studly buddy, Studly who tries to help him achieve that goal. I know, I know, this sounds like the premise for every teen comedy made, but believe me, this is where the similarities end and a twisted Faustian tale begins.
One day while Pondo and Studly are scheming on the campus grounds, Pondo announces that he would sell his soul for a piece of tail. The hauntingly beautiful girl from the first scene appears and seems to acknowledge Pondo's request - though his wish is not granted until much later in the film. The girl, Mephistopheles incarnate, appears throughout the film, taunting and haunting Pondo.
Before Pondo's wish is granted, he is dragged through some of cinema's most hilariously torturous vignettes. In one scene, Pondo tries to impress the ladies at a punk rock party by taking so many drugs (pot, pills, cocaine and LSD) in one sitting, that even Keith Richards would cringe. In another, Pondo decked out in 1970's New York City pimp gear, crashes an African-American party that is not exactly white-friendly and ends up with a hair pick stuck in his forehead.
This is a seriously twisted dark comedy and may not be for all tastes but over-all the cinematography is excellent and the acting is fair. Jerry Jones III, who has performed in all of Rudy Ray Moore's Dolomite films, provides an exceptional performance as Elbow, the school's janitor, who doles out sage-like advice to Studly and Pondo. The Party Animal features an amazing soundtrack whose artists include The Buzzcocks, The Fleshtones, R.E.M., New Marines, Chelsea, Dream 6, Gazmo, and The Untouchables who appear as themselves in the film. Also, there are many semi-clad beauties to keep your eyes busy even if your mind wanders.
As a film, The Party Animal does not play by any standard "teen sex comedy" rules set up by the Hollywood cookie cutter machine, and it certainly doesn't cop out by giving the us the same old crappy "nerd saves the day - nerd gets the girl" happy ending. I won't give up the finale, but let's just say that Pondo gets what he deserves.
The Party Animal only played a short time in theatres in 1983 (not 1984) and now can only be seen if your video store carries the long out-of-print Pan-Canadian or Lightning video releases. A trivial note: This is one of only a few movies that Cineplex Odeon Pictures produced and released.
The Giant Spider Invasion (1975)
There were giants in those days.
I try to watch this movie every year or so. It reminds me of my youth when I didn't have any preconceived notions about what a film should or shouldn't be. A time when I had total suspension of disbelief.
I remember when my ten-year-old eyes first caught a glance at the greatest horror movie poster that ever hung in the hallowed foyer of our local movie theatre, The D&R in Aberdeen, Washington. The poster featured a gargantuan spider bearing down on a group of terrified people. Suspended in the air above the monster were three helicopters and lying crumpled at the spider's legs were a couple of burning cars while spotlights filled the sky. One of the terrified was a busty young blonde wearing only a negligee. I was sold.
Every kid in town must have seen the `coming soon' poster because the next day in school all halls were abuzz with nervous anticipation of what was going to be the greatest cinematic experience of our young lives: THE GIANT SPIDER INVASION! Our local newspaper (The Daily World) had a beautiful half-page advertisement featuring the glorious poster art. I cut it out and hung it on the refrigerator so my mom wouldn't forget.
After a torturous week of school, the opening day finally arrived. Packs of kids, with parents in tow, rushed to secure a place in line at the D&R. The line wrapped around the block. Aberdeen hadn't seen this much excitement since Jaws played there the previous year.
Once inside the lobby, ushers showered the crowd with little black plastic spiders. Kids scrambled everywhere clawing and climbing over each other to get their hands on these rare collector's items. I snagged a few off the ground and then rushed into the theatre to secure a seat for my Mom, my brother and me.
The theatre was filled to capacity. Those who did not make it in for the first show were forced to wait until the 9:00 p.m. show. Back in the seventies there were only two show times during the weekdays: 7:00p.m. and 9:00p.m. It was truly Darwin's `survival of the fittest' in action.
At precisely 7:00p.m., the theatre grew dark and the screen was illuminated with the coming attraction: Squirm! The theatre was filled with whoops and screams as slime-coated killer worms with fangs tore into flesh, but soon a collective kid-groan could be heard as the rating `R' flashed after the preview. Thankfully, our attention was focused off the fact that most of our parents would not permit us to see the `R' rated film when the title: The Giant Spider Invasion filled the screen.
For the next 85 minutes, we were treated to a town exposed to a `miniature' black hole' that creates a `space warp' inviting in alien-spiders that grow to mammoth proportions. The film really delivered the goods! A grungy farmer discovers a half-eaten body whose rib-cage is partially exposed, a girl comes out of the shower baring her breasts and, in a glorious shower of blood, the spiders suck up a couple of people into their puckered-festering mouths! Cries of horror and disbelief could be heard throughout the auditorium. A couple of ushers had to remove a bawling friend of mine after he saw the partially eaten remains of one of the victims too much for his delicate sensibilities. I sat transfixed. This was the greatest movie ever made. The next day, I dragged a few of my friends to watch the matinee we stayed for the remaining showings and returned the following day. The movie played in Aberdeen for only a week, but I must have seen it a dozen times.
Years later, I found The Giant Spider Invasion at a video store and immediately purchased it. I watched it with the same glee I did back in 1975 and the fond memories I held came flooding back.
Watching it now I chuckle as Alan `The Skipper' Hale delivers lines like, `He's a strange man and he's building up a big head of steam.' But, seeing the spiders, which seemed so real back in the good old D&R, crawl over the beautiful Wisconsin countryside, still gives me a small thrill. Even though it's obvious the spiders are badly made up VW Beetles, it still takes me back to a time when all movies I watched were magical.
There were giants in those days.
Squirm (1976)
A cross between David Lynch & Tennessee Williams!
Why Squirm isn't in constant rotation at repertory theatres, being discussed and dissected ala Citizen Kane in film schools or simply being heralded as the mightiest drive-in film of all time is beyond my comprehension. Squirm is the culmination of everything that is good and right in the world of drive-in horror. If you close your eyes and imagine David Lynch directing a long-lost horror story scripted by Tennessee Williams, then you can begin to imagine Squirm.
I'd like to start off by saying, "If you have not seen this film at a drive-in or in a theatre, you have not truly seen this film." The Mystery Science Theatre 3000 episode definitely does not count and reviews from that show should be stricken from record. If you have seen one of the two home video versions available, you still have not seen the whole film. While the boxes have the "R" rating the videos are missing some serious gore and nudity that originally appeared in the theatrical print. Three scenes come directly to mind. 1: The scene where the worms burrow into Roger's face has been cut to half of its original length. Missing is the continuation of the worms' passage under the skin of Roger's (Richard A. Dow) face and a close-up that has been completely cut. 2: A side-view of Geri's (Patricia Pearcy) breasts when she's turning on the shower is missing on the video. 3: Severely shortened is the scene where Mick (Don Scardino) takes a shovel and smashes it repeatedly against Willie Grimes' (Carl Dagenhart) worm-infested chest. This scene was much longer and more savage in the original. The director, Jeff Lieberman has commented a few times during interviews, "it looks like there has been a mistake in the editing."
Squirm, seen in its entirety, is a seamless masterpiece that features great acting by the entire cast, a wonderfully demented musical score by Robert Prince and some of the creepiest cinematography ever committed to celluloid. The night scenes in the darkened house are extra disturbing - using only a spotlight aimed from the floor, all of the actors look like tortured souls wandering aimlessly.
One performance in particular I would like to point out is that of Jean Sullivan who plays Naomi, Geri's mentally unbalanced mother who becomes more and more disturbed as the movie plays out. Oh, boy! You just don't see that great old-school type of acting anymore, "I never saw such a storm. Something.....evil about it." Creepy!
A few interesting bits of trivia: 1: Kim Basinger auditioned for the role of Geri but Lieberman said, "Nah, the audiences will never believe that she lives in this hick town." 2: Martin Sheen auditioned for the role of Mick but Lieberman had trouble with the fact that Sheen wanted to do some rewrites. 3: Squirm was originally going to be filmed in New England, but the weather forced the filmmakers to set up location in Wentworth, Georgia. The sandworms, not indigenous to Georgia, had to be flown in daily by the thousands from Wiscasset, Maine. This ruined the fishing season in Wiscasset but aided Georgia's ecology. The University of Georgia's Oceanographic Institute discovered that the worms had the ability and the appetite to destroy sludge and pollution in the Savannah River. The worms are still in the Savannah to this day.
On a final note, the movie poster is one of the most detailed images of Hell ever printed on 24" x 36" 80# stock. Lightning smashes down to earth as six tormented worm-eaten/worm-covered human bodies agonizingly writhe in soil under an ancient leafless old tree. This is one of Drew Struzan's earlier works and I think it's his best. He has since gone on to become Hollywood's most prolific movie poster artist. Unfortunately, movie poster art is going the way of the drive-in and is being replaced by glossy airbrushed photos of the "stars".
It is my belief that Criterion or Anchor Bay should re-release a director's cut of Squirm to DVD so film fanatics from around the world can see what a perfect film this is. If they can do it for Sam Fuller, heck, they can do it for Lieberman!
L'isola degli uomini pesce (1979)
Barbara Bach has never been more beautiful!
Screamers is an Italian fantasy film (L'Isola degli Uomini Pesce) bought by Roger Corman and released through his New World Pictures. Of course Corman has to carve his initials on it by having one of his lackeys (Dan T. Miller) direct some additional gore footage before he has it released in the states.
L'Isola degli Uomini Pesce is a very entertaining retelling of the Island of Dr. Moreau. It is 1891 and Claudio Cassinelli is shipwrecked on a mysterious island with a few newly escaped convicts. Claudio comes across the stellar Barbara Bach and Richard Johnson. Johnson plays the dastardly Edmund Rackham: a man who is able to manipulate scientist Joseph Cotton into turning the local native population into amphibious deep-sea diving creatures, (they look like a cross between the Black Lagoon creature and one of The Humanoids From the Deep), by convincing Cotton that the mutations are being created for the highest of scientific and humanitarian motives.
Having discovered the lost city of Atlantis, Rackham is using the amphibious creatures to loot its treasures. Sexy Barbara Bach plays Cotton's daughter who has a psychic link with these mutations. In one memorable scene, Bach takes a midnight swim with these mutants wearing only a thin white cotton dress that leaves little to the imagination. Claudio discovers one of the convicts he has befriended has been turned into a gill-creature and then all Hell breaks loose.
Filmed at the same time and in the same location as Zombi 2, Richard Johnson didn't even have to change suits between films. The house where the experiments take place is the same house Johnson uses to conduct experiments in Zombi 2. Talk about economic filmmaking!
The additional footage features a few bloody beheadings, (way to go Roger!), and a laughably bad Cameron Mitchell doing his best pirate imitation. All that's missing is the parrot.
Spanish title: Le Continent Des Hommes Poissons
Death Valley (1982)
Gina Christian is the reason tube tops were invented!
This film is not as bad as many people would have you believe. Peter "The Dirt Bike Kid" Billingsley, in his first starring role, plays Billy, a boy who is forced to vacation with his mother and her boyfriend in the middle of the hot California desert. During a desert outing, a bored Billy decides to do a little exploration and comes across a seemingly abandoned RV. Unbeknownst to Billy the RV contains the freshly butchered bodies of three teenagers who are stuffed into the forward compartment. Billy nearly opens the forward compartment's door when he's pulled out and reprimanded by his mother's boyfriend. Billy doesn't leave empty handed though; he has stolen a necklace that he found on the RV's floor.
Later the necklace becomes a clue that is handed over with much guilt and tears to the town's sheriff played by Wilford Brimley. Soon after, the sheriff has a mining pick stuck in his chest after stupidly going over to the killer's house with clue in hand and basically asking, "Hey, look what I found at a murder scene," and knowing full well that the necklace belongs to the killer. Oops!
The killer believes Billy knows too much and needs to be eliminated. From this point on the film becomes a tense cat-and-mouse game that ends with more than a few dead.
Death Valley was released in 1982 without much fanfare or promotion and was quickly lost among the glut of slasher films being churned out by Hollywood at that time. That is unfortunate because the film features everything horror fans love: breasts, gore and excitement. This film also features a tense Henry Manfredini-like musical score by Dana Kaproff and excellent cinematography by Stephen Burum. Billy's mother is played by the beautiful Katherine Hicks (spelled Catherine on the video box) who played Marilyn Monroe in the television movie, Marilyn: The Untold Story.
Another reason to watch this film is for the brief appearance of Gina Christian, in her only film role, as R.V. Girl. Gina Christian is the reason tube tops were invented. Wow!