drownsoda90

"Hollywood 90028" follows Mark, a dejected cinematographer in Los Angeles struggling to make it in the business, relegated to shooting porno loops to get by. Plagued by loneliness and alienated from his peers, Mark finds friendship in a prostitute named Michele, but his demons ultimately begin to surface in violent ways.

This obscurity written and directed by Christina Hornisher has often been branded as a rediscovered lost film, as it was hardly released for nearly four decades and unknown to even the most diehard exploitation enthusiasts. It is a unique film with a strong psychological dimension that is unfortunately never fully realized.

The character of Mark is wracked with guilt over the death of his infant brother when he was a child, and is a lonely and withdrawn man for reasons that are apparent. However, the screenplay lacks the connective tissue that could potentially make sense of his pathology. His character in some ways reminded me of Travis Bickle in Martin Scorsese's "Taxi Driver", released a few years later, though Mark's ultimate drive for murder lacks a tangible underpinning.

The film is unusual in that, despite largely dealing with masculine rage, it was written and directed by a woman, though it does also offer some exploration of female objectification and the realities of sex work through the character of Michele, another troubled soul who finds some kinship with Mark. It is a langorously-paced affair all around, with some dizzyingly surreal captures of Los Angeles's grimmer underbelly, which is certainly a plus.

As the story ramps up to its inevitable conclusion, there is a fair share of tension and a tragic last punch at the audience, but when the credits rolled, as a viewer, I felt ultimately empty. Perhaps this was an intentional choice, or maybe (and more likely) an incidental element of the film stemming from its spacey quality. All in all, I found it to be a character study that doesn't quite work, but its attempts at exploring a number of psychological themes are valiant. 6/10.

"Iced" focuses on a group of friends who reunite at a posh ski resort after their friend died in a skiing accident four years earlier. Naturally, more members of the group are destined to die.

This shot-on-video slasher flick directed by Jeff Kwitny ("Beyond the Door III") is a prime slice of late-'80s cheese picked off the video rental store shelf. If you know, you know. "Iced" is certainly not a good film, but it is a real low-budget charmer with its fair share of spilt blood.

The setup is banal and predictable (as is the case with most films of this ilk), but what "Iced" has going for it is a snowy atmosphere paired with dark cabin interiors, big hair (it was filmed in 1988, after all), and a fair amount of interpersonal drama between the group of friends that feels as though it could have been plucked from an episode of an '80s soap opera.

Obviously this will not appeal to all tastes, and the film does suffer from some choppy editing that really shows its budgetary restrictions. The performances are also shaky at best, but the ski-suited killer makes some menacing appearances throughout, and the despite the slow-burn nature of the first hour, things do ramp up into full-blown slasher territory in the last thirty minutes, when the bodies start to fall.

Ultimately, the reveal is predictable and the killer's logic stilted at best, but genre fans don't seek out these types of films for nuance. "Iced" is a delirious good time, and an amusing relic of its era. For a no-budget slasher, it stands as a decent shot-on-video facsimile of more polished films. 6/10.

In "The Last Showgirl", Pamela Anderson stars as Shelly, a middle-aged showgirl who has made a decades-long career in a now rapidly declining act on the Las Vegas strip. When she learns that her famed show is unexpectedly set to close up shop, she faces an existential crisis.

There is no arguing that this film's surface appeal for virtually all of the filmgoing public is to see its star like we've never quite seen her before--and in some ways it's true, in others, not. The Pamela Anderson forever edified in pop culture has never quite been taken seriously as a performer, or perhaps has simply never gotten the right opportunity--but regardless, I will say that her performance here is very good. She captures a nervy pathos as Shelly that is well executed by any measure. The film's dialogue at times feels slightly stilted which does detract from the performances to a degree, but this is true of most of the cast, and not really their fault.

Visually, "The Last Showgirl" is a marvel. It appears to have been shot on aged film stock, which gives it a filtered but grainy appearance that is otherworldly and almost lost in time. While it appears to be set in the early 2000s, the 1980s-tinged set pieces and the dimly-lit casino interiors are supremely atmospheric. Anyone who has been to Las Vegas and seen this side of it can attest to how perfectly (and poetically) the city's less glamorous nooks and crannies are captured here.

The film is ostensibly a character study, as Shelly attempts to plan a future in the face of an impending career death--a career which she has long defined herself by. The premise is interesting in that the character is, in a sense, shamelessly shallow, despite having a real heart and an upbeat cheerleader-esque personality. She wants the best for not only herself, but those around her, and yet her anchor in life is proved ephemeral and only fails her. She is also un-glamorized in the sense that her personality flaws are unveiled as the film progresses.

By her side is Annette (Jamie Lee Curtis), an older and long-ago-ousted ex-showgirl who takes fleeting gigs cocktail waitressing, and who drowns her sorrows in a variety of alcoholic beverages. Where Anderson's character has more reserve, Curtis's brash and bawdy personality brings some spark, and the two have genuine chemistry here. The younger cast (Kiernan Shipka and Brenda Song, playing much younger showgirls who view Anderson as something of a surrogate mother, and Billie Lourd as Anderson's semi-estranged daughter) also give respectable performances.

Despite that it seems to strive toward character study, I ultimately feel like "The Last Showgirl" functions better as a downbeat mood piece than anything else. The characters--even Shelly--remain somewhat unreachable, which I suppose may be intentional. This is a world of surfaces, after all, and the film seems to fundamentally understand this. The moody shots of Anderson ambling around the Vegas strip, and Curtis's transcendent casino dance to "Total Eclipse of the Heart" are pure, unadulterated cinematic pleasures. And even if these moments don't drive home the heartbreak in the story, they are worth the price of admission alone. 7/10.