J.C.

Here's a movie for biker film enthusiasts. Its about a hippy biker who quits his job and leads his gang back to his hometown, which is run by racist cops! Unsurprisingly, the black biker gang member is huckled by the redneck police on a minor drugs charge and beaten up, leading J. C. and his gang to seek vengeance. You can guess by the initials of the title character, that he and his followers see him as some kind of messiah. I wouldn't say this is very deep stuff though, but it had some decent dramatics and suspense at times. Additionally, it's a boom-mic spotters delight, with that damned mic dropping into view left, right and centre throughout.

I collect bad biker movies. The more painful, the better. This one is king of them all. The worst biker film, indeed the worst film of any kind. I can't watch it in one sitting. In fact, it's hard to get to the opening credits in one sitting. If you ever see it, you will understand. The opening credits started rolling, and I mistakenly believed it was the closing credits and started rejoicing. The intro is that long. And bad. And painful.

I mean, I understand low budget films, I've even worked on one myself, but they could have taken up a collection for clean underwear for the lead character if they in fact felt it was that important to have the lead character roll around in his underwear. And apparently they did.

The scene where .....nevermind....its just too painful a memory.

A good drinking game would be to take a shot every time you see the boom mic.

With a religious fanatic for a father, the last thing J.C. wanted was to follow in old Pops footsteps. So to Escape his background he becomes the leader of a bike gang. Then one night, while tripping out on some harsh drugs with his biker buddies, he preaches a sermon asking that his followers (his tripped out biker buddies) to head west with him. They get no further than his home town before a headlong confrontation between the establishment and the Prophets.

This film is the usual run of the mill Bikersploitation film, with it's average dose of violence and general bad behaivour.

Writer-director-producer William McGaha shows up in a small southern town and makes friends with the local bikers. Sheriff Slim Pickens doesn't like his bringing a Black friend into a town where, I imagine, they still don't cotton them being around after sundown.

It's your typical biker as the Son of G*d movie. There are decent performances, good camerawork and thoughtful editing. It's a simple-minded script, though, more intent on making its moralizing points than in telling a story.