Videocrity

THE DESCENT OF MAN. AND WOMAN. AND KILLER CYBORG FROM SPACE.

2007-12-30T19:23:00.000-08:00

Greetings. Herein is the repository of my Videocrity column, begun in the Washington Post and continued in the Washington City Paper. I think it was four years' worth of video watching; the mind grows foggy.

When I was reviewing them, mostly on VHS (and it wasn't THAT long ago!), "direct-to-video" was largely a pejorative term. Now studios are creating whole DTV departments and proudly marketing "home video exclusives," often sequels and threequels to movies that were successful enough to warrant another go, just not in a theater.

This is how I began the column's relaunch in City Paper and serves as my mission statement:

"There will always be a market for Brian Bosworth movies."

This frightening quote comes from Don Gold, senior V.P. of Vidmark, one of the big guns in direct-to-video entertainment. In fact, the DTV world is so expansive it not only embraces failed athletes but can supply constant work for the tiny Coreys, Feldman and Haim. In killing the radio star, video has unleashed opportunities for almost everyone else.

The home-video business is larger than the multiplex market, and growing. Independence Day and Fatal Attraction get all the press, but what of the horde of also-rans and blatant rip-offs they inspire? Each month, their flagrantly packaged boxes arrive on the rental shelves, having been scoffed at, scorned, and utterly dismissed by critics, who are more concerned with art and meaning than an insightful shower scene or ingenious explosion.

Since there will always be Brian Bosworth movies, there must be someone who will take such works as seriously as they take themselves. Someone who will review them, who will provide perspective on the art of the shower scene, offer analysis of the meaning of the monster-POV stalking shot. Someone to pass judgment on the obligatory parking-garage or abandoned-factory chase scene.

That person died of a massive brain hemorrhage, so I'll have to do.

Each month, this column will dive into the cultural dumpster, where bright intentions are thwarted by lack of talent, and talentless hacks succeed by exploiting greed and lust. It's a stinky job, but every once in a while, you come up with a rose.

As a further aid to befuddled videophiles, we offer the following rating system: At the bottom of the bottom is BULK ERASE. Do not get this tape near your VCR. Less virulent, but not worth your time, is EJECT. PAUSE means some of it is worth some of your time. FREEZE-FRAME: Some scenes suggested for mature audiences. The highest accolade is PLAY, but caveat emptor always—this is not necessarily synonymous with "good."

So you may read all the columns in order beginning below. The absurdly huge list of all the DTV movies in my collection is kept at my main site, where you will find all the other nonsense I'm involved in.

Enjoy.

DN

YOU DON'T KNOW JACK

2007-12-30T19:20:00.001-08:00

JACK-O
Triboro Entertainment Group

So nice to see John Carradine working again, even though he's been dead since 1988. As the "Judge of Hell," he is glimpsed in a few mugging close-ups and heard in brief sampled dialogue--never at the same time. Ed Wood would be proud. Equally inspiring is the conspicuous use of stuffed dummies standing in for poleaxed victims. Monty Python would be proud. Viewers who make it through this low-watt Halloween "homage" may not be proud. (Mitigating recommendation: Scream Queen Linnea Quigley is introduced in a shower scene gratuitous even by her gratuitous standards. PAUSE.

HOLOGRAM MAN
PM Entertainment Group

Choice: Pay first-run money to watch Denzel Washington in Virtuosity, or save bucks renting Hologram Man--the exact same story starring the Cro-Magnonesque Joe Lara? Hint: The first word uttered is a scatological exclamation. So is the second. One could likewise sum up the entire effort. Since he's been converted into a super energy being--with a "more robust power base"-- why does evil psycho/psycho co-writer Evan Lurie escape from "holographic stasis" only to spend his time in martial arts fisticuffs? Hologram Man is a paen to the militia mindset that lacks even the illusion of one dimension. For the easily fooled. EJECT.

GALAXIS
Turner Home Entertainment

We always suspected that Brigitte Nielsen was a terminatrix from another planet. She's on Earth to save her people from TV's Richard Moll. He's wearing a Darth Vader suit (and filling it well); she's wearing a leather outfit that showcases her linebacker shoulders--head and which she is above the short lead actor. In addition to listing Fred Asparagus, Alan Fudge and Patrick Peach in the credits, Evil Dead director Sam Raimi has a cameo as the Neville Chamberlain of interstellar overlords. (Nice death scene, Sam). On the Blow'd Up Real Good scale, this rates a Pretty Good, thanks to ace blast guy Albert Lenutti. Cliche checklist: Anyone scream, "NOOOOO!" at the side of a fallen comrade? Yes. Climactic shootout in an abandoned factory? Yes. Nudity? No. Laughs? Barely and unintentional. Pause-button moments to clear the head? Many. Sequel possibility? Open. Recommended for pyromaniacs. EJECT.

AMERICA'S DUMBEST CRIMINALS
Cascom Home Video

Truth is stranger than fiction, and acting is better than re-enactment. The producers try too hard when they stage fake depictions of blooper stories told--with Jack Webb prowess--by various law enforcement officers. The same tales read much better in books like Chuck Shepherd's America's Least Competent Criminals. If you rent videos for their readability, the trivia screens are amusing. EJECT.

IT'S PAT: THE MOVIE
Touchstone Home Video

Give Julia Sweeney credit for effort, execution, and vision. Her androgynous character is more fully developed than most movie creations. But even the nude scene fails to answer the question that pops up every two minutes: What ARE you?!? As infuriating as this 90-minute tease is, there are some genuine chuckles. Pat isn't as annoying as Billy Madison, fellow SNL cohort Adam Sandler's feature, which WAS released theatrically. One would suggest sexism--if one were sure which sex was being ismed.

CHILDREN OF THE CORN III
Dimension Home Video

If, like me, you missed I and II, you may find yourself wondering just who is "He Who Walks Behind the Rows"? After a lot of quasi-religious mumbo jumbo from a pre-teen antichrist and much vomiting, "He" is revealed to be a rather arbitrarily designed stop-motion THING, easily dispatched with a few blows from a handy scythe wielded by the formerly dim, suddenly valiant post-teen teen hero. Grotesque without being scary, Corn III's greatest horror is the clear intention for future harvests. Not worth the fertilizer. EJECT.

Ancient Mysteries: New Investigations of the Unsolved
SHROUD OF TURIN
A&E Home Video

Talk about bait and switch! The box promises the haunting face of a real spooky looking guy (Turin, I guess), but he never shows up to waste anybody. What we get instead is a lot of yaketa-yaketa about carbon-dating and medieval weaving techniques from a bunch of sleep-inducing scientists and scholars without the slightest sense of drama. Besides, it was made in 1988. We should by now be watching Shroud Three: Turin's Revenge!

Next: Not With My Wife You Don't

TAKE MY WIFE, PLEASE!

2007-12-30T19:15:00.000-08:00

LIFE 101
Monarch Home Video

Congratulate me, I just met my next wife! The preciously perky Ami Dolenz--yes, she's Monkee Mickey's daughter--lights up this modest '60s coming-of-age tale. In fact, all the scenery in this movie is of interest, because it was shot extensively on the University of Maryland campus by Davidsonville, Md., physicist/real estate tycoon/low-budget auteur Redge Mahaffey. After the opening theme--Ted Nugent and the Amboy Duke's most excellent "Journey to the Center of the Mind"--things slow down a bit, but co-star Corey Haim turns in a surprisingly unpretentious performance. And gals, I understand he's available as well. PAUSE

ILLEGAL IN BLUE
Orion Home Video

Congratulate me, I just met my next wife! Fresh from her triumph as a giggly teen in Clueless, Stacey Dash puts on--and takes off--an adult wardrobe to vamp and lip-sync her way through this tepid erotic thriller. You can tell it's an erotic thriller because everything looks like Lakeforest Mall after hours. Both Eros and thrills are seriously undermined by co-star Dan Gaulthier's unfortunate resemblance to Jim Carrey--not allrighty then. And maybe I missed something while fast-forwarding to the good parts--of which there are only three, none particularly good--but it seems as if my betrothed got away with murder--of her husband. Hmmm.... EJECT.

DARKMAN II: THE RETURN OF DURANT
MCA Universal Home Video [CC]

Darkman's first outing was basically "Phantom of the Batcave," and this sequel has also fallen victim to the Batsuit Syndrome: Goodbye, Liam Neeson, hello, Arnold Vosloo (Hey, we laughed first time we heard the name "Schwarzenegger," too). Stepping into the bandages as disfigured, semi-deranged scientist Peyton Westlake, Vosloo has a certain appealing Connery coarseness. Unfortunately we see more of his real (i.e., fake) face than his hooded one. This is really Larry Drake's show, and as Robert Durant--so evil even the flaming high-speed helicopter crash of D-I didn't kill him--Drake mugs so fiercely you'd swear HE has the rubber head. Despite lines like "Only I am allowed to wear my face!," and much unashamed cigarette smoking, II doesn't have the comic zip of the Sam Raimi original. Which is irrelevant, because the trailer already alerted us: Coming soon--Darkman III: Die, Darkman, Die. Another unlikely scenario. PAUSE for Halloween.

REMOTE CONTROL
Columbia Tristar Home Video

If you laughed the first time you heard the name "Vosloo," you'll REALLY laugh when Björn Jörundur Friöbjörnsso is on screen. This Icelandic comedy proves that from bitter cold comes a fine dry wit. An impossibly convoluted shaggy dog tale, "Control" revolves around Björn's need to retrieve a TV remote control for his demanding Mum so she won't empty the bathtub and kill his goldfish. Accomplishing this odd but simple task somehow involves "the most experienced gang in Iceland"--who take their cues from comic books--Monopoly-playing soft-drink bootleggers, sleepy metalheads, incompetent kidnappers who can't tell right from left ("So what?" they counter) and pettiness beyond belief--all the more enjoyable because, deep down, we know it CAN happen here. Of course, quirky songbird Björk sings the closing theme, as she probably does for all Icelandic films. PLAY.

THE JERKY BOYS: DON'T HANG UP, TOUGH GUY
SMV Enterprises

Defining the line between clever and stupid, professional wisenheimers Johnny Brennan and Kamal are not everyone's cup of obnoxiousness. Obviously produced as an MTV special that proved too real for the "Real World" network, the Jerkys add surveillance-camera voyeurism to their usual audio outrages. The result is "Candid Camera" without Allen Funt's disingenuous pretense that it's all good fun. Funny it is, but good? After all, we're laughing because it's such utterly bad behavior: Commandeering the PA in a grocery store to mock the customers, confusing tour bus patrons and pestering MTV interns. Well, that last IS fairly worthwhile, especially when they yank an earnest MTV receptionist's feminist chain--she instantly cries sexual harassment. No, honey, it's just jerkiness. PLAY

HOW TO BEAT A SPEEDING TICKET
Active Home Video

The best thing about this dubious endeavor is the ironic cast it gives to the FBI warning at the beginning of the tape. After quickly suggesting that one avoid getting a ticket in the first place, the producers pad the following 29 minutes with more of the blatantly obvious. The most interesting advice comes from a psychologist who prescribes humanizing any cop encounters by imagining John Law standing there wearing only a swimsuit and a funny hat. Yeah, tell THAT to the judge. EJECT.

DENNIS POTTER: THE LAST INTERVIEW
New Video

It may sound like a horror show to sit and watch a man beset with untreatable pancreatic cancer, but this smile-filled interview with the author of "Pennies From Heaven" and "The Singing Detective" is one of the most life-affirming 70 minutes you may spend. Facing his impending demise with a flask of liquid morphine and packet of cigarettes, Potter seems the healthiest, most vital, most thoroughly alive person on the planet. Utterly clear-eyed about himself, Potter brightly discusses his life, work, politics, death and the importance of "nowness." He died mere weeks after this recording, but left a more enlightening TV chat than any Baba Wawa soft-focus flatter-fest. PLAY.

Next: Tickle Me, Clint

TICKLE ME, CLINT

2007-12-30T19:14:00.000-08:00

TICKS
Republic Pictures

Brother Ron puts him in all his big-budget pictures, but in "Apollo 13," Clint Howard didn't get to stare at the screen with an oozing, pustulated face and scream, "I'm infested--SHOOT ME!" I'm predicting Opie grabs a statue come Oscar time. Tragically, I fear the Academy will once again ignore Clint's efforts. True, other than some tick-cam imagery and a tick stampede, this isn't quite as commendably absurd as Frogs (with Oscar-winner Ray Miland). But Clint seems happy, maybe because he's working with his father, Rance. Dad smiles pleasantly in one scene before his lifeless corpse is pulled from a swamp in the next. Who says Hollywood doesn't understand family values? With respect for Clint, and my ex-flame Ami Dolenz--PAUSE.

FEMME FONTAINE, KILLER BABE FOR THE CIA
Troma

It's been more than 70 years since the film industry abandoned New Jersey for the West Coast. Somehow, the feverish folks at Troma Films haven't gotten the news. Typically, most of "Femme's" creative thought went into the catchy title. One would think that having characters like Master Sun, Madam Li, and lesbo Nazis would guarantee some intrigue. But the plot is so huge, most of the film is spent just getting to the next sadistic complication. Quadruple threat writer/producer/director/star Margot Hope plays a secret agent/assassin/avant-garde artist/peeping tomette who is also a mistress of 1,000 disguises. None of them, however, quite hide the shame. BULK ERASE.

LAP DANCING
Triboro Entertainment Group

Can't anyone make a decent lap dancing movie? Instead of "Showgirls'" overblown score, this visit to Silicon City offers bad Jersey rock and lyrics Richard Marx wouldn't even write: "Does anybody hear you scream, on the boulevard of broken dreams?" Innocent starlet Angie fails her big audition, flubbing the line: "I'm sorry that I can't be everything to you--mother, sex-goddess, businessperson." But after a week writhing all over strangers, she learns the meaning behind those words: "It's more than dance moves--it's an attitude." Now she can dance the lap dance of her life and get the part. More importantly, she cares: "You're a battered woman! You need to go to a battered woman shelter!" Soft-core with an imagined message. Makes me wanna shout, I'm infested--SHOOT ME! FREEZE-FRAME

OUT OF SYNC
Live Entertainment

"Get that money!" "A'right." "Get that money!" "Ow! I'm gonna get it! I'm gonna get it!" "Get that money, man!" "Oof! A'right, man. A'right, man!" LL Cool J finally gets the money, but he certainly doesn't deserve it. The usually likeable rapper is LL One Note in this uninformed crime story about a DJ with a past who gets involved with The Wrong Woman. Mostly he gets people dancing lethargically to lame rap ("Say 'Yeah!' Wave ya hands in the air!"), when he's not clenching his jaws and flaring his nostrils to bad Quiet Storm music--even in the sex scene, which takes place during a quiet storm! But everyone keeps their raincoats on, so all we get is some wet shoulder action. Of the many unanswered questions in this slow-going caper, this I want to know: Where did they find that 1972 chunka-chunka, wah-wah guitar car-chase music? EJECT.

NIGHTSCARE
Live Entertainment

Poor Elizabeth Hurley--such bad luck with boyfriends and screenplays. Here she plays a scientist with a smart collection of satin lingerie who works at The Institute. Days are spent giving a psycho killer brain injections of her hormone discovery, "BFND." At night, she, too, imbibes. Instead of mellowing Psycho out, BFND causes everyone in England to disappear except the lead actors, who wander around in each other's stylish nightmares while Nutboy does a fair Freddy/Hannibal Lecter impression. Two points: A. The producers don't insult us by trying to explain everything; B. What the hell is going on here? Liz apparently cooked up gallons of BFND. For this, the generic brand brain injection seems more appropriate: Wild Turkey. EJECT.

Next: Virtual Virtues

VIRTUAL VICES

2007-12-30T19:09:00.000-08:00

VIRTUAL DESIRE
Triboro Entertainment Group

Nothing virtual here except the many breasts--perfect compliment to the fake acting. Intercutting between bulky porn-quality thespians sitting in front of computers typing sensuously somehow fails to convey much "Tom Jones"-style eroticism. More interesting are the aged, dispeptic cops--graduates of the Foster Brooks Police Academy--who quote "TV's Most Wanted" when formulating theories and tell the prime murder suspect to "do a little investigating on your own." This much incompetence is always entertaining. And--hey! Isn't that the girl from "Lap Dancing?!" PAUSE.

VIRTUAL ASSASSIN
Turner Home Entertainment

"Blade Runner meets Die Hard," says the box. Make that minor BR character (Brion James) meets shameless DH knockoff. The dazed Michael Dudikoff is an ex-cop turned janitor who must use every janitorial skill to defeat a shaggy-blonde James--resembling Connie Stevens with a goatee more than a techno terrorist--before James can "disrupt the entire matrix." The office park setting is as virtual as it gets. EJECT.

CYBER BANDITS
Columbia Tristar
[CC]

Cyber Bandits aren't as lethal as Virtual Assassins but they're both so faux. Still, I've always dreamed of hearing Grace Jones say "Strap him down boys!" Sadly, the moment passes too quickly, and involves mush-mouthed Martin Kemp. In a Trader Vic's 2000 environment, Kemp snarls at sinister-bearded Robert Hays about a super weapon that Henry Gibson (wearing Brion James' wig) invented. It's a piece of plumbing and it doesn't do anything. Unstrap me, please. EJECT.

TIMEMASTER
MCA/Universal

Pat Morita truly is a TimeMaster. Here he makes 90 minutes of your life disappear. But blame the director, who apparently cast his own children in major roles and co-wrote a script that--to quote it's oft-used phrase--"sucks the life out of you." EJECT.

CASTLE FREAK
Full Moon

A troubled American family inherits a castle filled with bad furniture and a strange little man in an anatomically creepy nude suit. (Attention body piercers and tattoo enthusiasts--here's the new look!) Content to remain locked in a dungeon and whipped by his mother for 40 years, Naked Boy has become Macho Man since Countess Dearest kicked, strutting his unpleasant butt grotesquely. Strap him down again, boys. EJECT.

MUTANT SPECIES
Live Entertainment

Wilfred Brimley is a genial general who doesn't enjoy killing. Powers Booth is some kind of dark-suited operative who does. Who didn't know that? Kinda "Outbreak" meets "Predator." Those are two good films. This is a mutant species. EJECT.

JOSH KIRBY...TIME WARRIOR! THE HUMAN PETS
Paramount
[CC]

In this second "chapter" of a 6-part series, many lessons are sweetly learned amid swordplay and pre-Jurassic dinomation as a plucky 9th-grader flies through time saving the universe. Real 9th-graders may find this all so silly, but K-6ers should be diverted. Parental warning: Some creatures bear a frightening resemblance to Truman Capote. PLAY.

DREAMING OF RITA
First Run Features

This is a Swedish comedy, which means it's funny in a very sad way. After his wife dies, kooky old dad runs away to find the woman he had an affair with the year his daughter was born. Grownup daughter tags along, fleeing her distracted husband, leaving him with a baby that can apparently cry on cue. That's painfully amusing. Maybe it's collic. Maybe it's just Sweden. PAUSE.

JESUS: HIS LIFE
A&E Biography

Like most A&E biographies, this begins happily, charts a rise to stardom, then ends tragically. Useful for the lapsed, respectful for the faithful, with some interesting fun facts for trivia buffs (He was a stone-mason, not a carpenter, some say). PLAY.

SANTA CLAUS
A&E Biography

Unlike most A&E biographies, this ends cheerfully. Jack Perkins sounds almost Brimleyesque in his folksy recitation of the 1,700-year history, from Turkish bishop to consumerist spokes-Santa. Along the way there are scads of fun facts and Father Andrew Greeley's sanctioning of pitchman St. Nick. An informative way to crush the kiddie's fantasy. PLAY.

Next: They'll Be Back

SECOND THOUGHTS

2007-12-30T19:08:00.001-08:00

DECOY
Turner Home Entertainment

Woah! Robocop and Terminator in the same movie! Even without their metal suits, Peter Weller and Robert Patrick remain very likable killing machines. They also rise above the handicap of having to portray what might loosely be described as "human beings." As mercenaries with emotions, they quote Shaw (oddly, I didn't puke), and keep the body count fairly low while being pursued by Charlotte Lewis--a hit-woman who believes that tight leatherware is appropriate mid-summer outdoor attire and has more testosterone than either guy. PLAY.

HOURGLASS
Live Entertainment

"Are you thinking of what brought you to this moment?" Peter Weller asks a hapless foe in "Decoy" before dispatching him, samurai style. Watching an erotic thriller directed and starring C. Thomas Howell definitely sets the mind to spinning deep, dark thoughts about life's cruel turns. Despite a Fabio haircut that must be constantly brushed out of the eyes, and obvious sympathy cameos by buddies Donny Most, Lou Diamond Philips, Kieffer Sutherland, and--Carrot Top?!?--this generates as much heat and sense as if it were directed by and starring C. Thomas Howell. EJECT.

SAINTS AND SINNERS
Live Entertainment

Or as the titles have it, saintsandsinners. For you see, they're all squooshed together, two old buddies and the gal who, literally, comes between them--caught up in a menage a dysfunction, menage a deception, menage a screaming and yelling and drug-dealing. Yet, there's a safe sex message. And, after almost everyone is gunned down, a happy ending. If they'd kept shooting, it would have been much happier. EJECT.

THE TRUE STORY OF FRANKENSTEIN
A&E Home Video

This is largely a biography of the 1931 Universal film, but that's deserving enough--after 64 years, Karloff & Co. still deliver. From Edison's 1910 version to Kenneth Branagh's faithful flop, from Sir Walter Scott to geeky collectors, the narrative veers almost drunkenly over the topic, spending as much time with Mel Brooks as with Mary Shelley. Even the abundance of bow-tied eggheads can't dull the appeal of Ms. Wollstonecraft's "pale student of unhallowed arts"--though host Roger Moore comes close. PLAY.

FRANKENSTEIN SINGS...THE MOVIE
Turner Home Entertainment

Where the A&E biopic ends with Bobby "Boris" Pickett's "Monster Mash," this begins with it. What is more amazing is that 34 years after his one-hit, and 20 years after "Rocky Horror," Pickett is the star of this musical monstrosity, which is based on his play. And, yes, he'll be singing that song again later. Wacky with a capital Ack, this seems best timed to cash in on whatever goodwill Jimmie "J.J." Walker has left. I'll be too kind. PAUSE.

THE BABYSITTER
Republic Pictures [CC]

Yes, Alicia Silverstone gets naked, but you ain't seeing nothing. In fact, if it weren't for the overheated fantasy sequences of a bunch of drunken white people and their slightly less inebriated kids, this would be one dull night. As it is, only the 10-year-old sees any real action--a view of Playboy--until imagination becomes real and reality turns more unpleasant than the sight of Alicia kissing J.T. Walsh. PAUSE.

STRIPTEASER
New Horizons

The last viewer of this act-fest about a talky psycho holding hostages in a nudie bar bailed after only 32 minutes. Interestingly, that's the exact point at which I grabbed for the remote. Being a professional, I fast-forwarded a few more minutes, saw that it only got uglier and considered the words a wise man once asked me: "Are you thinking of what brought you to this moment?" I killed the power altogether and reached for my sword. BULK ERASE.

Next: Battle of the VJs

KILLING THE VIDEO STARS

2007-12-30T19:04:00.000-08:00

SYNAPSE
WarnerVision Films

In the ever-expanding pantheon of MTV VJs--and now MTV VJs making movies--Duff rules. Go on--argue for perky Martha Quinn, saucy Daisy Fuentes, even scary Nina Blackwood or kooky Kari Wuhrer. I don't care. While I'm insanely obsessed with those gals, too, they don't quite radiate Duff's sparkling combination of spunk and smarts. Now acting under the pseudonym "Karen Duffy," the videotrix is surrounded by an almost "A" cast in an almost surprising futuristic story which almost compensates for the cruel use of body doubles. Despite her grimace-heavy "stern" acting style, Duff remains charmingly spunkified. How spunky? She removes her own "goad." (You don't really want to know.) PAUSE.

SINGLED OUT: THE DIRT ON THE DATES
SMV

The current MTV vid queen I obsess over is ex-Playboy centerfold Jenny McCarthy, co-host of Singled Out, the music channel's hyperactive version of The Dating Game--for people who positively should not be encouraged to meet and reproduce. The only dirt here is how filthy you feel witnessing such smugly witless single-entendre banter. Jenny, we're through. BULK ERASE.

MIND RIPPER
WarnerVision Films

Having your mind ripped is far worse than having your goad removed. In fact, it's much like watching a monster movie without any monster suit. This Alien plot-ripper offers a shirtless, Fabio-style pretty boy becoming increasingly less pretty as he "evolves" into the perfect killing machine. This he accomplishes by writhing and vomiting. Ever since Halloween, nobody stays dead anymore, but the triple-resurrection cheat ending is not nearly as scary as screen psycho supreme Lance Henriksen playing a loving dad. EJECT

DANGEROUS PASSIONS
Live Entertainment
[CC]

Choice: Lonette McKee or a 1931 Bugatti? Billy Dee Williams goes so gaga over the car, he lets Carl Weathers run off with wife McKee. One would think that such studly hunks locked in a love triangle would set the VCR to steaming. Instead, co-executive producer (?) Weathers is topless far more than McKee, and while, thankfully, Billy Dee keeps his clothes on, I fast-forwarded through the "love scenes" in hopes of finding some action, jackson. "I never thought it would end like this," gasps McKee at one point, though it was obvious from Frame One. EJECT.

UNDER THE GUN
Triboro Entertainment

Trying to follow the plot will give you a severe case of whiplash, but credit Aussie martial arts star Richard Norton with trying to add some maturity to the adolescent chop-socky genre. Not an unadvisable plan for a 40something kung fu fighter, but Norton is big on Down Under charm and can act well enough to suggest that with a coherent script he might take a flying leap at an A actioner. But then, the executive producer is listed as "Richard Norton," so maybe he's content with putting on a nice suit and, maturely, kicking people silly. FREEZE-FRAME.

BLONDES HAVE MORE GUNS
Troma

By no reasonable standard a good movie, but proof that if you throw enough expletive deleted at the screen something's gonna stick. So I caught myself laughing out loud several times at this relentlessly juvenile Airplane-style parody of Sharon Stone films, among others. Occasional flashes of near-wit--like a "twin half step-sister" character--aside, don't tell anyone I'm almost recommending it. PAUSE.

MASSEUSE
Triboro Entertainment

One entire tedious plot comes and goes before we get to any massage, which lasts maybe 40 seconds and is hardly enlightening. But this is women's erotica, meaning the nakedness is in the sympathetic service of topics like economic empowerment, sunbathing and the art of pool boy maintenance. Sorry, ladies, but playing "Spot the Investors" during the party scene wasn't diverting enough to prevent one from longing for a house call from Mr. Mind-Ripper. EJECT.

Next: Corey!

FINAL FRONTIERS

2007-12-30T18:59:00.002-08:00

VOODOO
A-Pix

"I just thought you'd be happier to see me," mopes Corey Feldman at the start of this zombies-on-campus film. Well, we would be except that, well, you're Corey Feldman! The aging Brat Packling should never have stopped playing precocious 11-year-olds. In this "adult" role, he heats up the screen like a popsicle in a strained tale about a college fraternity of the undead trying to revive a demon. Voodoo gives the concept of Mumbo Jumbo a bad name. EJECT.

NAKED SOULS
Warnervision

Mucho mumbo jumbo here, with the accent on the jumbo, as Pamela Anderson plays a sculptress of erotic works. While she stays home slathering plaster on other busty babes, her boyfriend switches bodies with a dying Nobel scientist and minds with a dead serial killer who had something against the well-endowed. Those not swift enough to catch Barb Wire before it sank will find ample examples of the Baywatcher's charms. I thought I'd be happier to see her. FREEZE FRAME.

BACKLASH: OBLIVION 2
Full Moon

Can anyone fax me a copy of Julie Newmar's deal with the devil? Cause the way those old Catwoman-style suits still fit, she definitely got the better bargain. But she's not alone among '60s icons running amok in this Outer Space Western: George "Sulu" Takei and Isaac "Shaft" Hayes both vie for the Hambone Award. The six-shooters vs. rubber monsters plot has all the good-humored charm--and primary color production value--of a Marvel comic, with a snappy interstellar score. And Musetta Vander's cheeky Bettie Page impression has me searching for Oblivion 1. PLAY.

BAD LOVE
A-Pix

The smoky sax score--I'd guess about a pack-a-day habit--clues us that we are supposed to be in steamy sexual territory. Actually, we're in the movie Barfly after everyone's sobered up. And no matter how well pouty Pamela Gidley tries to disguise it, there's no cure for that hangover. EJECT.

ORGANIZED CRIME AND TRIAD BUREAU
Tai Seng

The white-shirt-and-black-tie squad take on the casually dressed criminals and the sharp-suited bureaucrats in this Hong Kong gunsocky flick that moves so fast you must speed-read the subtitles, some of which follow: "I am the Triad kingpin." "Stop thinking you're Rambo." "Watch out for the bullets." "Someone who has lost his love finds his beer sour." "Reserve two seats at the karaoke tonight." "There will be a gun battle--hold all traffic lights at red." "I want to have dinner with you at Stanley Steak House." "Aim your guns at them." "Why are the reporters here so fast?" PAUSE.

ONE MAN'S JUSTICE
Live Entertainment

Brian "Boz" Bosworth should get himself to Hong Kong before it closes. The failed football star could learn something about action movies. Like, "action" doesn't mean "sadistic violence." And "casting" doesn't mean hiring failed rap star Hammer to play a drug lord. But the worst thing about movies starring professional athletes: the crying scene. EJECT.

ELECTRA
New Horizons

How interesting to be personally acquainted with the co-writer of a Shannon Tweed "erotic thriller." To know that his script was re-written because, as the director noted, it reflected the emotional outlook "of a 13-year-old." To know that the author is a former employee of the Washington Post, but is not Oscar-nominated screenwriter Paul Attanassio. How interesting to have to tell someone that his name is on a really, really bad film. But we can blame the director. Partially.

This Just In (6/12/99): The "author" of Electra, who we will now reveal as Mr. Lou Aguilar, Jr., wrote in to protest our review. He informed us that director "Ellen Cabot" (Beach Babes From Beyond) is in fact Dave DeCoteau (Leather Jackets—A Love Story), and then made some rather severe allegations about why Dave prefers being known as Ellen, if you know what we mean. We do, Lou, but we still say, EJECT.

Next: Weird Killing Machines

OH, THE HUMANITY

2007-12-30T18:59:00.001-08:00

THE DEMOLITIONIST
A-Pix

"I don't even think or feel like a human being anymore," pouts pretty Nicole Eggert in this Robocop "homage." "I'm just some weird killing machine," the Robobabe complains. Weird, maybe. Tedious, definitely. They have the technology, but they just can't build a believable Richard Grieco. Then again, if you've always wanted to watch the former 21 Jump Street star's head melt, you're in luck. Otherwise, EJECT

FEMALIEN
Surrender Cinema

With such an inspired title, I'm willing to forgive almost anything. And the tag line: "She's a totally different species"--genius! But this tale about a buxom energy being from beyond dropping in to "collect data" on "physical pleasure" is simply uninspired porn without the money shots. And that is unforgivable. EJECT.

FORBIDDEN ZONE: ALIEN ABDUCTION
Cult Video

Here, the same Femalien premise has been transformed into--on the one hand--an artsy investigation into the paranormal, and--on the other hand--five nearly nude chicks sitting around a sauna remembering when they were completely nude. Either way, "A" for effort, "I" for incoherence. The saunettes enjoy using words like "epiphany." I had one and I was fully clothed: The button labeled EJECT.

THE MAN WITH THE PERFECT SWING
Monarch

In Happy Gilmore, a doofus applied hockey skills to golf. Here, a dreamer thinks his baseball talent will make him rich on the links. Like the game, Swing is fairly pleasant, but real slow going. Duffers may enjoy the pace. For the rest of us, watching this golf movie is as entertaining as, well, watching golf. PAUSE.

NIGHT HUNTER
New Horizons

Despite the title, it's cheaper to film in daylight than at night, so the producers tossed out years of vampire lore, scheduled morning shoots and hired martial artist Don "The Dragon" Wilson to show that kung fu and head butts are better than a cross or a stake through the heart for fighting the undead. Thankfully, the feral Wilson has almost no dialogue in his silent but deadly quest to destroy a disco-hopping vampire cartel led by the elegantly slithery Nicholas Guest (brother of Spinal Tap's Nigel Tufnel!). Stylishly derivative, Hunter proves that bad movies don't have to stink. PLAY.

ONE GOOD TURN
BMG Video

Mr. Weepy meets Mr. Creepy and darn if I wasn't rooting for the disturbing James Remar to beat some sense into the simpering "male" lead. A yuppie reunites with a down-and-out mystery man who once saved his life and utters the words you should never say to anyone: "Why don't you stay in our pool house?" Things don't go swimmingly, especially for the woefully neglected Suzy Amis. She should have ditched both crybaby husband and her agent. EJECT.

THEODORE REX
New Line Home Video CC

"If at any time you feel overwhelmed, disengage the activity and return to your starship." Such were Femalien's instructions. Whoopie Goldberg lacked a similarly perceptive escape clause and her latest movie was thus sentenced straight to video. Whoever advised co-starring with a guy in a dinosaur suit--which is frankly more flattering than the latex gear Whoopie is shoehorned into--needs to take a meeting with a certain weird killing machine. In fact, everyone involved should. Silly, but not silly enough for kids, I watched until I didn't think or feel like a human being anymore. If you want me, I'll be in my starship. BULK ERASE

Next: Jeepers, Creepers

JEEPERS

2007-12-30T18:57:00.000-08:00

CREEPERS
New Line

Pointless! Insane! But, jeepers, what genius! The short take: Girl meets insect, girl loses insect, girl finds monkey. I hate to spoil it by explaining further. Though hyped as a Jennifer Connelly vehicle, it's not quite the buxom starlet we enjoyed in Mulholland Falls; here she's young enough to be her own daughter. This Euro-production sat on some shelf so long that Donald Pleasence returns from the grave to relay such mumbo jumbo as, "It's perfectly normal for insects to be slightly telepathic." This is proven when Jennifer is actually teamed with a fly to go detecting. INSANE! Jennifer, a student at "The Academy," has some unspecified power over bugs ("Insects never hurt me. I love all insects"), and, like Lassie, the fly returns to lead her to clues. The second-unit filmmaking is better than the first--lots of close-ups of emoting arthropods--and the FX budget went to poorly fake a firefly's light, but the ending is so stupefying--yet emotionally satisfying in a demented way--that it must be seen to be believed! PLAY.

AMERICAN STRAYS
A-Pix

What hath Tarrantino wrought? This recipe is becoming unappetizing: Get many quirky actors who, alone, cannot carry a picture, lump them together into a Quentin stew, add rambling disquisitions on conspiracies, Francis Scott Key and Ray Charles, sprinkle in mournful bottleneck slide guitar, wait 90 vague minutes and, voila! Burned again. Except for the very delicious desert of watching a guy relieving himself on Luke Perry. One never tires of watching that. EJECT

EVIL ED
A-Pix

Curious. This may be anti-violence commentary, a slap at our cultural imperialism, complete with Western-style showdown. Or, it may be a regular slasher flick, the result of our cultural imperialism. While there are umlauts all over the credits, and the dialogue is dubbed--in redneck dialect even--the cast was clearly speaking English when they filmed this tale of a nebbish film editor named Ed who goes loopy after being forced to watch too many slasher flicks. But then, we are forced to watch, too, and it's hard to tell which scenes the filmmakers really believe in. Nice closing song about donuts, though. PAUSE.

HEAD OF THE FAMILY
Pulp Fantasy

The concept probably came from a comic-reading kid: Evil quadruplets, each endowed with different abilities--super-sight, -strength, -breasts, etc.--led by a guy who's just a huge head. But the horror aspects vie with the erotic-thriller production, resulting in a weird hybrid both smarter than it needs to be and really, really stupid. But good sport Jacqueline Lovell displays a sharp, Sharon Stonesque spunkiness (among other things that Stone also likes to display) which is worth noting. PAUSE.

DARKMAN III: DIE, DARKMAN, DIE
MCA/Universal

Vosloo's back! They can't keep the Batsuit filled, but Darkman's rags seem stuck on Arnold V. Still, in his return engagement as the avenging scientist, he takes second billing to...Jeff Fahey? The spooky-eyed Fahey is a drug lord-slash-bad parent who plans to milk the Darkster's adrenal glands and sell the super steroids to street punks. But this is a family values Darkman. Vosloo gives lines like "I'm nobody's lab rat!" appropriate weight, and there is much face-ripping-off, but while all the pulp elements are present, they're arranged without the care of the original. Most egregious is the gratuitous plug for the Universal Studios Tour. It is so shameless that I must punish the corporate suits with an EJECT.

VIRTUAL SEDUCTION
New Horizons

What? Jeff Fahey again, so soon? Yes, and this time he's dragged my perky ex-wife Ami Dolenz (Monkee Mickey's gal) into his private hell--or private Virtual Reality Pod. In fact, Fahey has made this movie before. It was called The Lawnmower Man. But there is no groundbreaking computer animation here. You have to accept that it's a state-of-the-art virtual reality machine because it has a row of sequentially blinking lights. That and the fact that "everyone at the lab is just so excited." Of course they are, they're part of some kind of God-Knows-What conspiracy. I might be more inclined to lose myself in the VR thrills, except it's just routine nudity. And blinking lights. EJECT.

SKYSCRAPER
PM Entertainment
[CC]

If Anna Nicole Smith were a real actress, she'd be able to do more than one convincing shower scene. In this Diehard rip--er, homage (the Widow Marshall plays an "ace helicopter pilot" who foils terrorists in a high-rise), I was lathered only into a sense of deja vu. But we don't love her for her big acting skills, so for those reasons, and for continued audacity, I shall admit that she gives me PAUSE.

TROMEO & JULIET
Troma

Forget that pretentious Claire Danes/Leonardo DiCaprio version in theaters, this is the definitive filmed treatment of the Shakespeare classic—if only because, finally, there's a happy ending. And Motörhead's Lemmy provides the narration. In the rivalry between the families of "Monty Cue" and "Cappy Capulet," Juliet is a now a vegetarian semi-lesbian and Romeo digs dirty CD-ROMs. Troma boss Lloyd Kaufman has made the Bard's language meaningful to a modern audience by adding fart jokes and frequent use of the F-word. More clever than the usual Troma fare, this gorefest with scenes of explicit body-piercing and toe-sucking is still juvenile. But so was the audience for the original. PLAY.

Next: Video Valhalla

VALHALLALUJAH

2007-12-30T18:56:00.001-08:00

THE VIKING SAGAS
New Line [CC]
Slogan: For the Love of His Woman. For the Honor of His Family. For the Survival of His People.

Why are they still making Viking movies? Because it's hard to fit lines like, "I will see you in Valhalla!" and "Gunnar's gone mad! He's killing people down by the river!" into a romantic comedy. This is certainly neither, though it is epic in landscape, if not talent. The directorial debut of a cinematographer, this is the first film I've seen where the voice-over only serves to confuse. Still, windy Iceland looks positively inviting, and there's plenty of gruesome, manly combat. Who but a Viking would wrap his intestines around a rock and call that dying with dignity? Salud! PAUSE.

RUMPELSTILTSKIN
Republic Pictures [CC]
Slogan: When the Fairy Tale Ends, the Nightmare Begins.

Max Grodenchik is Rumpelstiltskin! Actually, he's more of a Sheckystiltskin, constantly joking and bearing more resemblance to Billy Crystal's septuagenarian Catskill comic character, Buddy Young Jr., than any Grimm creature. But grim this is, and in bringing the fable to modern L.A. the filmmakers demonstrate only what is wrong with modern horror films: Glibness and gratuitous destruction have replaced any evocation or examination of our primal fears. Like the fear of watching the clearly intended Rumpelstiltskin II. EJECT.

RAVENHAWK
Columbia/Tristar
Slogan: "The First Female Action Hero."

Can "America's First Lady of Fitness" Rachel McLish follow fellow world body-building champ Arnold Schwarzenegger to box-office bonanza? Even though her English is better, the sinewy author of Flex Appeal doesn't use much of it. In fact, the star of the In Shape workout videos sparkles onscreen with the same luster as second-string lunk Chuck Norris. But the author of Perfect Parts doesn't get much of a chance. After McLish effortlessly wreaks revenge on the evil businessmen who killed her family and put a nuclear plant on their Indian land, the producers let a man save both the day and Ravenhawk. Drop and give me 20. EJECT.

PETTICOAT PLANET
Cult Video
Slogan: Women Are the Law.

The cover art was designed to attract men, but a woman directed this utterly witless tale of a lone dude on a planet of babes. Meaning that there is equal-opportunity gratuitous nudity. And a man probably wouldn't have bothered giving the planet an Old West setting. Stupefying, yes, but the costumes—when worn—are first-rate. Nothing makes sense, but this is targeted at couples who need a VCR to jump-start real entertainment. PAUSE.

SHAMELESS
BMG Video
Slogan: Life Just Went Over the Edge.

"I thought you'd have preferred if I was a boy," says Elizabeth Hurley to her aristocrat dad in what might have been the big emotional moment of this extra low-key film about...something. I honestly never figured it out. Surprisingly, Hurley displays her un-boyish attributes and also proves that one can be a dissolute, high-society heroin addict and still have a fabulous complexion and look smashing in evening wear. Hair model C. Thomas Howell proves that he's got a great agent who can continue to find him work. EJECT.

LITTLE WITCHES
A-Pix

"Forgive me, Father, for I am sin." That's a nice line. Problem is, it's on the box, not in the script. The film boasts such sterling dialogue as, "Do you have, like, computers and Internet access?" This tale of comely coeds trying to contact "The Horned Demon" for reasons that remain unclear is really a 20-minute Night Gallery episode padded with teasing nudity and shots of weather. If you missed the similar-themed The Craft when it was in theaters, feel free to miss this at the video store. EJECT.

Next: A Blizzard of Boz

A BLIZZARD OF BOZ

2007-12-30T18:53:00.001-08:00

BLACKOUT
Live Entertainment
Slogan: A Hunted Man In a Deadly Pursuit of His Past.
[CC]

This is Brian Bosworth's version of The Long Kiss Goodnight, which was Geena Davis' version of a Brian Bosworth film. Mild-mannered banker Bosworth (uh?) is hit by a car, loses his memory, then becomes haunted by flashbacks of a life much more violent than that of most--but not all--finance professionals. The mystery is fairly intriguing, with Brad Dourf attempting an unstereotypical spin as the evil gang leader. And Boz even attempts something fairly atypical--acting. And, darnit, that's also intriguing--until everything starts blowing up and we're back in a Brian Bosworth movie. And the mystery? It is explained in one long sentence by a guy who steps out of a helicopter at the very end. Close, but no exploding cigar. PAUSE.

VIRUS
Live Entertainment
Slogan: There Is No Antidote.
[CC]

Ex-football star Boz returns, again, this time as an ex-football star turned Secret Service agent and personal bodyguard to the president. Apparently, blonde highlights are regulation in this administration--not too surprising considering the strangely cozy relationship between the president and his evil top adviser, Eric--we keep catching them alone together, relaxing at night in some cabin in the woods. In fact, everyone's in the woods, wandering around Ontario's Algonquin Park becoming infected with the deadly secret virus that the predictably rogue government-within-the-government developed for unspecified purposes. Everyone except Boz. He coughs a bit, then shrugs off the bug and keeps on hiking and fighting. So either it's not much of a virus, or Boz is even more super than he keeps telling us he is. The scene with the president joining hands in a cultish "One World!" chant is just plain odd, but Boz gets to tell him off to his face. Good move, Boz. Bad movie. EJECT.

TERMINAL VIRUS
New Horizons
Slogan: The Year 2062. Humanity Has Survived War and Famine. Now It Must Face...

This virus movie is so interminable, it had me hoping someone like, say, Boz, would show up and save it. Instead, James Brolin smugly saunters around to no great effect. He's irrelevant to the muddled story about life after a future war has made sex fatal. If you're thinking parable, forget it. Here, men and women are engaged in a literal war of the sexes--bikini babes with machine guns ride muscle cars and creepy Richard Lynch indulges, as he always does, in mindless destruction. It's a familiar future because we've seen it so often in the past: It looks like Road Warrior. Thankfully, curling irons survived WWIII, so the women looks smashing in their Queen of Outer Space wardrobes. Sadly, logic and coherence perished completely. EJECT.

RIOT
PM Entertainment
Slogan: It's Every Man For Himself.
[CC]

Another ex-athlete, Sugar Ray Leonard, has been making a lot of poor decisions lately. You'd hope he'd have something else to fall back on other than the canvas, but don't count on a film career. His death scene is particularly undignified. But why did anyone get involved in this hateful story of a "future" society run amok. The producers offensively use footage from the LA riots for veritas. I don't think so. After spending half the film showing dredlocked, black gangbangers manhandling blonde models, they try to justify themselves by making the blacks lackeys in the conspiracy of the real bad guys: the IRA. "We mustn't let color come between us," says an actor in a lousy Irish accent, though the film has already made a lie of that statement. Ostensible star, martial arts mannequin Gary Daniels, can't even manage a jaw clench to convey any kind of emotion. But I was moved to action when the film had the hypocritical gall to lecture me at the end. Take this: BULK ERASE.

DANGER ZONE
Live Entertainment

This is Billy Zane and Robert Downey Jr.'s version of the John Travolta/Christian Slater explode-a-thon, Broken Arrow. While this film lacks Arrow's bloated budget, it also lacks Christian Slater. Then again, it does have Downey Jr with a hair extension and a pitiful Southern accent. But he dies. Twice. The real advantage of this flick is the sweeping African scenery. Co-producer Zane returns to Phantom territory--yes, another heroic white guy saving the natives, with an Evil Oriental thrown in--but the film's real concerns are high-spirited B-Western action in picturesque locations. The train ambush-on-horseback is fun. The script is not exactly rigorous, relying more on coincidence than cleverness, and the talk gets tedious, but the waterfalls are lovely. PLAY.

SEX AND THE OTHER MAN
A-Pix
Slogan: Look What the Wife Dragged In.

Here's an impotency cure: Tie your girlfriend's lover to a chair and make him watch the two of you rekindle your passion. Then again, if your girlfriend is former MTV videotrix Kari Wuhrer and you still need to drag Big Night's Stanley Tucci into your boudoir, you've got more problems than I want to know about. Credit Kari with choosing material based on a play and not a music video--which means that the nudity is not gratuitous at all...and not extensive enough--but the action remains too talkily stage-bound and the play-like quality is so far off-Broadway that I didn't exactly feel strapped to the chair while I watched. FREEZE-FRAME.

SOUTH BEACH ACADEMY
Live Entertainment
Slogan: This Year's Student Body Is Shaping Up.

Al Lewis stopped playing Grandpa Munster 31 years ago. So you can imagine the delight on the face of the beach bunny he gets to cuddle with in this Baywatch-with-nudity inanity. Corey Feldman stopped being cute 10 years ago--and the 'burns and goatee aren't helping. But why does Corey get his picture and name on the box when he is so utterly extraneous to the plot? And an extraneous plot at that. Though set at a near-nude beach, the producers felt it necessary to add scenes at a strip club. Perhaps they were inspired after casting porn star-turned-porn-director Ron Jeremy in a small role. From the way Corey acts during the "love" final scenes, he probably thought Ron was directing. Ick. EJECT.

Next: Whatever happened to Corbin Bernsen?

CORBIN FEVER

2007-12-30T18:47:00.000-08:00

TAILS YOU LIVE, HEADS YOU'RE DEAD
Paramount [CC]

"I go wherever my fancy takes me." So says Corbin Bernsen, here playing a capricious serial killer. Fancy has taken the close-cropped actor from major league TV to the Major League film series, to the DTV minors. But Bernsen's a solid team player and the set-up for this nearly tense thriller is fairly intriguing: nutcase chooses victims randomly, informs them they are next, and slowly toys with them. Who hasn't thought of doing that? But there is the constrained feel of a TV movie about this product. Animal House hero Tim Matheson directed, with no special flair, though he proves his seriousness by playing a supporting role in a highly unflattering hairstyle. PAUSE.

BLOODHOUNDS
Paramount [CC]

"You know, in a strange way this has all the promise of a better ending." So says Corbin Bernsen, here playing a true-crime author chasing down a capricious serial killer. The promise is largely unfulfilled, though co-star Christine Harnos has a pretty good kung fu kick. There are so many well-timed coincidences that you stop caring after a while, but I did have this epiphany: I say thank God we've changed into a service economy--now that all of our factories are rusting into funky dishevelment, they make perfect movie backdrops for grimy fight scenes. EJECT.

KOUNTERFEIT
Live Entertainment

"Hey, what am I doing in this hateful movie?" So doesn't say Corbin Bernsen, but his apology would be appreciated. In his defense, Bernsen appears in so few scenes it's never clear what his role is. But the utterly reprehensible moral is sickeningly clear: It is better to be a murderous thief than a crooked cop. OK, maybe it's a close call, but are we really supposed to root for the double-crossing thug because he didn't shoot first? And what of the heroine? A guy kills her brother so she applies for a job in his nudie bar? That's a plan? The misspelled title remains unexplained, but the opening does show a guy making money using PhotoShop and a bubblejet printer. That's an upgrade I'm waiting for. EJECT.

CADILLAC RANCH
BMG Video [CC]

Yes, that Cadillac Ranch. This film was "inspired by" the famous Ant Farm installation with all the planted autos, but the greater inspiration was Thelma and Louise, though I don't recall those two spending so much time in tight cut-offs. In neither case did the inspiration strike very deep. Three sisters wrestle with the legacy of an absent father while trying hard to be colorful. Christopher Lloyd plays a sadistic creep with his usual enthusiasm, but I'm really starting to worry about Suzy Amis. What's with the pole dance? The important lesson is that someone should take better care of those Caddies. PAUSE.

CHANGING HABITS
A-Pix

More Daddy issues, more inspirational art, and more Christopher Lloyd. Also Teri Garr, Shelly Duvall, Eileen Brennan, and Moira Kelly, who stars as Lloyd's alienated, shoplifting artist daughter, who moves into a convent to save money so that she can devote her full attention to hating Dad. This is less a story than a bunch of quirky characters working stuff out, speaking in wise aphorisms, and telling many life stories that no one really wants to hear. But actors love roles where they get to laugh and cry in the same scene. With so much meaning being dispensed, why does it take 92 minutes for the bleeding obvious to be revealed? EJECT.

BEN VAUGHN: RAMBLER 65
Rhino Home Video

You gotta admire a guy who, after coming up with a wacky but impractical idea, follows it through to the bitter end, even though the stupidity of the endeavor must have been apparent from the start. Roots rock singer/songwriter/soundtrack composer Ben Vaughn decided to record an entire album inside his 1965 Rambler. For those unfamiliar, the Rambler was one of the first "compact" cars. The music turned out far better than you might expect, catchy even--especially "7 Days." This 24 minute video is a semi "making of," with most of the tunes worked into the story. Oldies DJ Jerry Blavat and a local Rambler fanatic gamely play along. While Vaughn doesn't quite pull off his Chris Isaac impression, there's still some charm at work. And, man, those cars. PLAY

BIKINI HOTEL
Pulp Pix

Oh, Stella, Stella, Stella! In her cameo role, '60s blonde bombshell Stella Stevens looks very good for 61. But this is a movie even her son Andrew, king of the cable erotic thrillers, wouldn't touch. Boasting two Penthouse Pets (one Australian, one Pet of the Year), one International Swimsuit Model, and nearly unintelligible sound, this nude-a-thon offers the single-entendre "comedy" of pornography, with acting as plastic as the body parts. Real pornographers know enough to keep the, uh, gags to a minimum. EJECT.

Next: Girl Power

A TERRIBLE THING

2007-12-30T18:46:00.001-08:00

SCORNED 2
A-Pix
Slogan ("provacative" box): They Won't Live to Regret It.
Slogan ("thriller" box): It's Too Late For I'm Sorry.

I missed Scorned 1, which starred Shannon Tweed and Andrew Stevens (Stella's son). No. 2 stars Tane McLure, an equine, upstart rival for Tweed's "Erotic Thriller Queen" crown. You may remember McLure from such films as Illicit Dreams 2 and Midnight Tease II. Or maybe not. The big-boned McClure plays a woman haunted by a vague trauma. "Erotic Thriller King" Stevens is the producer and gives himself a "special appearance by" credit, which is not entirely special. He did hire a Stevensish actor to play McLure's husband, whose most casually gratuitous of casual affairs brings back McLure's memories of when she was a psychopath. Naturally, she reverts to form and seeks revenge on a variety of people who don't quite deserve it. Just who's scorning who is not entirely clear. But is it asking too much that the makeup department cover the leg bruises during the love scenes? EJECT.

BLACK SCORPION II: AFTERSHOCK
New Horizons

I missed Black Scorpion I, which also featured Joan Severance. You may remember Severance from her many Playboy pictorials and Red Shoe Diaries episodes on cable. Now co-producer, Joan returns as the titular cop turned leather-clad crimefighter to avenge her father's murder. Comic book movies should never be multimillion-dollar events. They should all be like this: action, angles, attitude, primary colors, and as low-budget as newsprint. Energetically directed by Jonathan Winfrey, BSII is all Dutch tilts and swish pans, and takes the juvenile comic book philosophy seriously--which is to say stupidly--never hampering it with "meaning." True, the black gangmembers mug with a shamelessness not seen since Mantan Moreland, but they seem to be genuinely enjoying themselves. And it's Garrett Morris' best work in years. PAUSE.

POISON IVY 3: THE NEW SEDUCTION
New Line [CC]
Slogan: All the Rules Are About to be Broken.

I missed Poison Ivy 1 with Drew Barrymore. Missed Poison Ivy 2 with Alyssa Milano. But Ivy 3 star Jaime Pressly has a feral Rebecca DeMornay quality that makes me guess this is the best Poison Ivy of all. Because to the question, "Do you always swim in the nude?" the answer seems to be, "Yeah, buddy!" The concept has been stripped, literally, to the obligatory sequences. The scarily dissipated Michael Des Barres (ex-husband of super-groupie/author Pamela) plays another philandering husband whose infidelity dooms a house full of innocent parties. Years ago, Daddy caught his mistress--the maid, mother of the Poisonous One--cheating on him with the pool boy. So daughter inexplicably returns to use her extraordinarily impressive body to wreak unjustified revenge. Anyway, it's Susan Tyrell's best work in years. FREEZE-FRAME.

LIFEFORM
Live Entertainment
Slogan: There's Something Out There, and It's Found a Way In.

"This thing is not a monster! It's a visitor!" screams the lady scientist, who's just had a bonding moment with the Kongishly doomed, ET-eyed creature. Actually, it is a monster. Silicon-based, we're told, but apparently corduroy-covered. And tapioca-filled. Even though Alien's influence is still being felt, the surprise success of Species--especially on video--added fresh fuel to the creature-among-us genre. Thus we have Lifeform. The idea is worthy of a better Star Trek episode. In fact, is a Star Trek episode. In 1983, the Viking II spacecraft we sent to Mars disappeared. Suddenly, it returns. That's interesting. The mumbo-jumbo factor is kept in check and the mystery almost carries. And I like tapioca. PAUSE.

INVASION OF PRIVACY
Vidmark [CC]
Slogan: Terror Is in the Eye of the Beholder

What is Naomi Campbell doing in this movie? Not modelling. Not acting. She's definitely not naked. In fact, she has no business here, because this is a fairly thoughtful film that's trying to be about something--many things, actually: abortion, father's rights, battered women, media manipulation, shirtlessness. The often shirtless Johnathon Schaech is a charming psycho who abuses his girlfriend and when he learns she is pregnant, kidnaps her so that she must bear his child. Stylish split-screen sequences and convincing acting lurk behind the exploitation title and box art--not to mention Charlotte Rampling's best work in years. PAUSE.

MR. RELIABLE
Polygram
Slogan: First the Siege...Then the Wedding.

This low-key Aussie film is supposedly based on a true story. During the summer of '68 in Sydney, a good-natured, small-time ex-con lifts some knick-knacks from a junkyard as gifts for his girlfriend. This prompts an absurd overreaction that becomes a huge media event. How huge? It lures "all three channels." Mostly, the affair just disturbs the neighbors, who'd rather watch The Man From U.N.C.L.E. Hostage negotiations become marriage planning sessions and everything unravels in a satisfyingly deadpan fashion. Hearing Cream songs is nice. Using "For What It's Worth" is probably a bit much. Using "A Little Help From My Friends" is definitely too much--especially since Joe Cocker's version wasn't a hit until 1970. But, hey, I like tapioca. PLAY.

CANNES MAN
Rocket Pictures
Slogan: Some People Can...Other People Con.

Seymour Cassell is one of "those guys." You may not know his name, but you've seen his distinctive craggy face often--full white head of hair, bushy matching mustache under an enormous nose--usually playing mobsters and wiseguys. In big films, he's a small-time hood. In small ones, he's the big guy. Here, he's a big Hollywood producer who scams everyone at the Cannes film festival. Filmed guerrilla-style at the 1995 fest, this is basically a home movie for industry suits. It probably plays well at company parties. A surprising array of names agreed to be dragged in for good-sport cameos: John Malkovich, Jon Cryer, Treat Williams, Lara Flynn Boyle, director Jim Sheridan, many others. While Cassell is a natural, appealing presence, there is much squirmy flailing by the pros called upon to improv the storyline. An engaging exception is Ann Cusack, who must become my wife. The best performances are from the executives: producers Robert Evans and Menacham Golam, Troma's Lloyd Kaufman. The most successful sequence is an odd encounter with Jim Jarmusch and Johnny Depp. But Chris Penn relays a brutal Madonna joke that is worth the price of admission. PAUSE.

INVISIBLE MOM
New Horizons
Slogan: Not Seeing Is Believing.

Does the name Barry Livingston ring a bell? You may remember him better as Ernie Douglas. Yep, Chip's little brother from My Three Sons is all grown up--well he's aged. Now he's playing Dad to a supposedly cute kid. There's another surprising name on this genial PG family film: director Fred Olen Ray. You may remember Ray from such films as Bad Girls from Mars, Droid Gunner, or Hollywood Chainsaw Hookers. Also curious is that the producer is--again--Andrew Stevens (yes, he hired his mom, Stella for a bit part). And the writer is William C. Martell, the Robert Towne of low-budget genre scripts. Martell revealed to the Hollywood Scriptwriter that he took the job as a favor, and apparently all three men desired a professional change of pace. He also explained that in the world of low-budget DTV, there are 12-, 18-, and 24-day films. That's the entire length of production. Invisible Mom is a 12-day film. The invisibility effects would not fool Georges Melies' audience, but kids may like the concept. PAUSE.

Next: The Plan's the Thing

THIS TIME, IT'S PERSONAL

2007-12-30T18:44:00.001-08:00

PLAN TEN FROM OUTER SPACE
Leo Films

In the mid-'80s, Tom, Pat, and I wrote a screenplay that pitted evil aliens from space against alcoholic Earthling teenagers. In a moment of inspired irony, we titled it "Plan Ten From Outer Space." As we sat in his Hollywood office off Sunset Boulevard, Jay Levey told us, "This is the funniest script I've ever read." Levey is "Weird" Al Yankovic's manager, so his words carried some weight. Of course, his next words were, "I can't do anything for you," and our cleverly-titled effort remained unproduced. But we always carried the smug confidence that we were so far ahead of the comedy curve with that name that no one could trump us--one day the world would recognize our absolute hipness and laugh.

Imagine my delight to discover that Utah's Trent Harris was on the same wavelength. Well, not exactly the same. The painful tragedy of this film is that our lovely title has been exploited to no special purpose. Though Harris does use the phrase in the film--several times--it's not really supported by the story. Instead, this Plan Ten seems to be a personal diatribe against the Mormon Church. "It's hard for outsiders to understand Salt Lake City without understanding the Mormon Church," says a character. In fact, it's hard to quite grasp what exactly Harris has against the Osmondites. With historical interludes and talk of the "secret of the bees," Harris seems to be positing a new Mormonism--derived from beyond the stars by vengeful females. The one inspiration that Harris had that we didn't was casting Karen Black. Damn! To hear her recite lines like, "Behold! I am Nihor of Kolob!" and sing a song with similarly loony lyrics almost makes this jeremiad worthwhile. "The work of a madman," snorted Tom, with more than a trace of bitterness. Can I rate it other than EJECT.

PLAN 9 1/2 FROM OUTER SPACE
Simitar

Sigh. Though advertised in the trades, repeated calls failed to produce this tape. Perhaps a future column. I will say this: Plan Ten is still a funnier title.

WARHEAD
Vidmark [CC]
Slogan: A Madman Holds the U.S. Hostage With the World's Most Destructive Weapon.

And then Tom, Pat, and I wrote a script about a maniac who holds D.C. hostage with atom bombs. Which is more or less the plot of this film. While ours was a comedy (our story ends with the District blown to smithereens. That's funny), this film begins with grim footage of the Oklahoma bombing to set up a tale of renegade right-wing domestic terrorists. (Future filmmakers should be careful about exploiting the tragedy--juries are willing to attach the death penalty to that event. Audiences may agree.) The Neanderthalish Joe Lara plays a McVeigh figure hunted by Redford-lite Frank Zagarino, who gets to spout lines like, "I'm going in--with or without your approval!" Along the way, we meet a beautiful babe of a scientist, who apparently took the MIT course in counter-terrorist acrobatics. "All I have ever asked of a movie, since I was 8 years old," said Tom, "was a scene with a guy running around in flames," I think he enjoyed this more than me. EJECT.

SUPERFIGHTS: THE MOVIE
Seasonal Films

Our A-bomb film was to have starred D.C. martial arts legend Chuck Jeffreys. Chuck is an extremely talented actor/stuntman/comedian who didn't wait for us to get our act together. Chuck's been in many A-pictures--Malcolm X, 12 Monkeys, Stargate--and starred in a video game, but what he really loves is making the chop-socky. Though this often takes him to Hong Kong or the Philippines, his latest effort was produced in the new kung fu hot spot, Harrisburg, Pa. Chuck plays "Dark Cloud," one of the "Superfighters," who--when they're not beating each other up in rigged iron-man bouts--double as goons in a protection racket. But this isn't really Chuck's film. The star is a diminutive white guy, Brandon Gaines. The whiny Gaines could never really take on Chuck. He's even dwarfed by the manishly voluptuous female Superfighter--her arms are twice as thick as his. Superfights marries the spiritual discipline of Tai Chi with the brutal buffoonery of Wrestlemania. Which is surprisingly effective, especially in the climactic battle. The quadruple-time choreography is giddy good fun. Despite 29 severe kicks to the head (lost count of the body blows), the hero is left with little more than a stylish trickle of blood in the corner of his mouth. And Chuck will kick me in the head if I don't rate it PLAY.

ERNEST BORGNINE ON THE BUS
Good Times

The guy we had lined up to do all the promotion for our films was Jeff Krulick. The man behind the genius video, Heavy Metal Parking Lot, Jeff is a tireless go-getter, and when he found out that Ernest Borgnine spends his free time wheeling across the country in a luxuriously-equipped bus--doing the driving himself, mind you--Jeff got himself invited aboard and recorded part of Ernie's journey. Clever editing keeps this from becoming as claustrophobic as, well, a bus trip, and Borgnine seems a genuine, good-natured host. A pleasant excursion to nowhere, the 45 minutes races by without need of a rest stop. PLAY.

(Finally, I have no personal connection with the remaining films. They are included as part of my commitment to full-service reviewing. You're welcome.)

YOUNG MASTER
Tai Seng

"Hold it, I'm going to kill you." Nice try, clown--Jackie Chan never holds it. He never holds still. A 1980 film now finding its way into video stores, this is unlike Chan's recent Stateside successes--it makes no concessions to American sensibilities. An example of the "historical" genre, everyone wears simple peasant outfits, but it could be any time. The plot is as rigorous as a Three Stooges film--in fact, the similarities are striking. Many of the jokes come at the expense of bumbling, toothless, cross-eyed rubes and the story is best summarized as: a bunch of stuff happens. More ballet than battle, the fighting is part high-wire act, part 2/4-time choreography that showcases Chan's specialty with props. Definitely look for the subtitled version. The Speed Raceresque copy I watched had Jackie dubbed by Crocodile Dundee's uncle. But we do get to hear Jackie sing the closing song, a disco ditty, "Born To Be a Kung Fu Fighting Man." PAUSE.

THE POMPATUS OF LOVE
BMG Video
Slogan: Women Are a Mystery. Love Is a Tragedy. Naturally, It's a Comedy.

"BMG Independents and Counter Productions present in association with Whinot Productions / Monte Cristo International / Odessa Films (France) and in association with In Pictures, Ltd. and CFP, Distribution a D.J. Paul/Jon Resnik production of a film by Richard Schenkman." Whew. Be proud of that possessory title, Richie. Perhaps those many credits explain why this never made it to a D.C. theater, but the similar Swingers did. Readers of the Straight Dope know that star Jon Cryer is to be thanked for finally solving the mystery of the word "pompatus," bandied about in Steve Miller's 1974 song, "The Joker." He is not to be thanked for the many shirtless scenes he gave himself as one of the writer/producers. Yes, the song is heard, and the film tries to give its own definition. Mostly, this is thirtysomething: The Next Generation. Sample dialogue: "Just say what you mean!" "I can't." I can: PAUSE.

SECRET AGENT CLUB
Cabin Fever [CC]
Slogan: It's 10 p.m.--Do You Know Where Your Dad Is?

"Walk away--that's an order!" shouted the general in Warhead. Alas, my duty was clear--though I did fast-forward frequently. This is cinematic training wheels--if kids buy the absurd illogic and utter gratuitousness of this story, they will surely grow up to enjoy more expensive hack Hollywood product. A shame, because I am convinced that Hulk Hogan has within him a great work. Well, at least he's trying--with little help from the director, who has no idea how to shoot action clearly, resulting in some insulting editing. Hulk's version of True Lies, the story finds spy-daddy Hulk captured by some vague evil organization and rescued by his kid and Junior's multiculti buddies. Years ago, Esquire called Lesley-Anne Down the most beautiful woman in the world. As the wicked Ms. Big, she still is. Likewise, Barry Bostwick is aging well, even if his career isn't. The Hulkster is looking more like Robert Duvall than seems healthy. And that "rap" song at the end! EJECT.

Next: Not Even Remotely of This Earth

THE DARK BACKWARD

2007-12-30T18:43:00.001-08:00

WELCOME TO PLANET EARTH
New Horizons

Been waiting for the comic version of Taxi Driver? Of course not, but here it is anyway, with Cheers' George Wendt as a cheerful Travis Bickle, visiting from the stars to wreak vengeance upon Earthly scum. This he does to teach his busty daughter something about violence, of which there is none on his world. Put aside the fact that George seems to be quite expert at violence himself, that this 'hood is populated largely with well-scrubbed, white, Actors Equity crackheads, and that Wendt and his alien wife are for some reason decked out Leave It To Beaver-style, and that they ham it up as if they are guest-hosting Pee-Wee's Playhouse. No, the blatant entrapment of said scum is so extreme that you want to shout, "Hey, they may be scumbags, but they're our scumbags, so just get the hell back to your own damn planet!" EJECT.

ALIEN CHASER
A-PIX
Slogan: His Arrival, Your Departure.

Frank Zagarino is the alien--very Uberman in a blond, Grace Jones 'do--but he does most of the chasing, so I'm not sure what the title means. The opening sets an intriguing mood, but the Voodoo becomes Voodon't real quick. I mean, this RoboTerminator has been buried in an underground crypt for centuries--why, as soon as he's revived into sunny South Africa, does he need to steal a raincoat? Answer: 'cause it looks cool when he's back-lit. Every scene is motivated by coolness instead of coherency. Which means that watching this "A Mark Roper Film" is like reading a comic book with frames missing--nothing hangs together. There's one neat stunt and a nice, spooky finale, but even though it's set in Africa, there's still no excuse for upholding the "Black Guy Dies First" rule. EJECT.

NOT LIKE US
New Horizons

It's the Greaseman! Could this be Douglas Tracht's feature debut? If so, he chose an appropriately second-rate vehicle. Doug gets two inconsequential lines and a minuscule reaction shot. Clint Howard and Paul Bartel have more screen time, though to equally unavailing effect. "Hero" Joanna Pacula seems most not like us with her indeterminant accent. This Roger Corman-produced piffle plays horror for chuckles while still expecting the gore to have some impact. It doesn't, thanks also to the intrusive and inappropriate music, which sounds like it came from an underproduced '60s kids show. I'm going to give away the ending because it's so amazingly stupid: The reason the Strange New Couple in Town are kidnapping people and chopping them up is because they come from a planet where plastic surgery is the highest art form and they need to practice. Don't even think about it, just move along. EJECT.

BACK TO BACK
BMG Video

With an Elvis-obsessed Yakuza hitman, and cameos by Tim Thomerson, Stephen "Flounder" Furst, Fred Willard, Jake Johannsen, Vincent Schiavelli (who didn't require makeup to become an alien in Buckaroo Banzai), and Bobcat Goldthwait, (who blows up real good), you might think you're in Quentin Quirktown, but this is Tarantino with balls--it doesn't play violence for laughs and it's gun lust is at the service of an almost-justified vigilantism. Michael Rooker usually plays evil psychos. Here, he gets to bulge his neck veins as a frustrated Dad, decent guy, and wrongly-disgraced detective forced to side with the Yakuza against the Mafia and, of course, crooked cops. The mark of this film's class is that scenes in a topless joint do not feature toplessness. Best of all, mysterioso Elvis impersonator Orion sings the end theme! PLAY.

NO WAY BACK
Columbia/TriStar [CC]

It's Yakuza vs. Mafia again in "A Frank Capella Film." Hair-metal-video art direction, swirly camera work, and a whole lot of wrecked cars disguise some casually immoral killing, but the plot twists enough to keep the finger from the fast-forward button. And Russell Crowe, Helen Slater, and Michael Lerner act as if they expected this to wind up in theaters. I worry that poor Helen is too far beyond her Supergirl glory to ever fly on big screens again. I need to have a talk with her. And now that Michael Rooker is going straight, I want to see more of bug-eyed bad guy Kristopher Logan--scary, scary. PAUSE.

BACK OF BEYOND
Live
Slogan: Even in the Middle of Nowhere, Miracles Are Closer Than You Think.

I grant points for saying the name of movie in the movie. And points for playing Lee Michael's obscure "Do You Know What I Mean" on the jukebox. And maybe scenes of the Australian Outback would be more fun to watch in freezing February. In the July heat, the sluggish pace seems even longer. Strictly Ballroom's Paul Mecurio and Mr. Reliable's Colin Friels spend a lot of time avoiding a confrontation while a group of disparate characters gathered in an abandoned diner/garage spout meaningful lines like, "Don't be afraid of what you are" and yaketa-yaketa-blah-blah until the Twilight Zone ending. I would not have submitted this for Serling's approval, but next time it snows, Beyond might give you PAUSE.

SOMETIMES THEY COME BACK...AGAIN
Vidmark [cc]
Slogan: Based on Characters Created by Stephen King.

I missed it when "they" came back the first time, and the crusty old priest's explanations don't quite explain anything. But this is Stephen King-derived potboiler--meaning cabalistic Sabbaths, subterranean blood pools, and dickless demons (well, they panned all the way down, so I had to look--and it wasn't there! Call the art department). Michael Gross is quietly becoming a DTV stalwart and he shaved his beard for this role as a man trying to settle a long undead score, or a score with the undead. Anyway, it's nice to see Gabriel Dell Jr. following in his father's footsteps. Dad was a founding Bowery Boy and member of Steve Allen's original Tonight Show gang. I'm sure he's proud that his son is upholding family tradition by playing a complete idiot. The lead villain, another Arquette, resembles a feral Jerry Seinfeld so closely, his literal Evil Twin, that when he comes back again again (as is suggested), I hope he brings George and Kramer with him. That's the only way I'll watch it...again. EJECT.

Next: Naked Rock Stars!

NOT SO FRESH HORSES

2007-12-30T18:41:00.001-08:00

GRAVE INDISCRETION
Live
Slogan: "Gentlemen Don't Eat Poets."

Sting nude! Sting kissing men--on the lips!. Sting's wife's naked butt! Isn't that the recipe for successful drama? I used to think so. But even with a naked Theresa Russell and Alan Bates' impressive toupee, this period tale of manor house murder and drawing-room intrigue is not nearly as intriguing as the players think it is. One should be grateful for such Masterpiece Theater production values in the DTV world, and perhaps there's a metaphorical point being made about the human condition. But I think Sting is right when he sings in the closing credits, "This was never meant to be." FREEZE FRAME.

VAMPIRELLA
New Horizons
Slogan: "Thirsty for Justice, She'll Settle for Blood."

Vampirella is a simple concept. Basically, the costume carries the day. But in this "A Jim Wynorski Film," the distaff Drac must contend with such plot-hogging distractions as a top secret governmental vampire-hunting squad (including Van Helsing's son), competing generations of vampire tribes, synthetic blood, multiple locations (supposedly) around the world--including vampires with ray guns in rockets. And Roger Daltry. A rock star by night and Vlad, leader of the evil interstellar blood-suckers by day, Daltry seems to be doing a twitchy Adam Ant impression, with a worse backup band. The needless complications render everything bloodless, though Talisa Soto fills the suit fairly well, investing lines like "Only on this planet is vampirism a mockery of itself!" with the quiet dignity they deserve. The real mockery is encountering the sniggering John Landis in a pointless cameo. EJECT.

DEAD TIDES
Live
Slogan: "The Deadliest Undercurrent Is Desire."

When wrestlers and playmates meet the result is always...drama! A Roddy Piper vehicle--formerly "Rowdy" Roddy Piper when he was a professional wrestler--the Redford of the Ring has transformed into a fairly credible thespian, of the squint-acting school. But we know that eventually he will use his wrestling skills--windmills and pile-drivers--to save the day. This being "A Serge Rodnunsky Film," Roddy can't save the viewer from visual whiplash. Serge wrote, directed, and edited, the last credit necessary because his direction is so haphazard no one else could have made sense of the scattered images. Ultimately, neither could Serge. "Maybe the wind and the sea were playing strange tricks," says Roddy. No, that's poor camera placement. Tawny Kitaen, still fondly remembered for her saucy car hood dance in that Whitesnake video, is now cruelly relying on body doubles. Though I have sympathy for any production that must credit "Lookout" and "Lab Security," the bizarrely wrong-headed and unethical ending cannot be rewarded. EJECT.

THE REAL WORLD YOU NEVER SAW
SMV
Slogan: "We Really Shouldn't Do This But...We're Doing It Anyway."

You never saw this footage because, hard to believe, it is even more tedious than what aired. This tape is so "real" the naughty words are bleeped. Nothing is said about the real-world affair between Becky from the first series and one of the show's directors. (Becky always seemed too smart for the program. I hope she's put her life together. Rebecca: call.) All we see are lights and people falling over and witless castmembers yelling to be left alone. (Don't worry, soon enough your 15 minutes shall pass.) Two things are revealed: The banality of the cast and the skill of the editors. That the illusion of psychodrama can be constructed out of 70 hours of such drivel recorded each week is a testament to the evil genius of MTV's methodology. Despite brief flashes of New York Eric's behind and Miami Flora's breasts, I found the packaging more interesting: "This videocassette was manufactured to meet critical quality standards." Not mine, pal. EJECT.

ESCAPE CLAUSE
MGM [CC]
Slogan: "Get Ready for Profits You Can't Escape!"

Not since radio's Yours Truly, Johnny Dollar has there been a drama about a hard-charging insurance actuary. Sadly, this film stars the non-charging Andrew McCarthy. When I had the privilege of observing the making of what became the very popular film, Weekend at Bernie's, I stood as close to Mr. McCarthy as I am to you--if we were standing very close together. The experience left me...nearly unaware that I was standing close to Andrew McCarthy. The focus-puller radiated stronger vibes. Combined with the fact that the fleshy ex-brat packer looks 10 years too young to be convincing as an aristocratic executive caught in a sprawling murder mystery makes this "A Danilo Bach Production" play as compellingly as if shot from a Blue Cross form. Poor Paul Sorvino tries to maintain some dignity. I think I would rather have watched him in the love scenes. EJECT.

HIDEOUS
Amazing Fantasy
Slogan: "Deformed. Devious. Depraved."

Hideous? Yes, in so many ways. And yet...I couldn't turn away. In part because Jacqueline Lovell is nude or semi-nude for most of the film. "I'm free, I'm proud. I'm woman," is how she dismisses her exhibitionistic exploitation. (Clearly an actress with more to offer than her delightful figure, Lovell should be getting all the roles meant for Kathleen Turner--when Kathleen Turner was hot.) The plot is absurd times 12: Rival collectors of "medical oddities" (that is slimy, bulbous puppets) vie to see whose oddities are odder. That these specimens are, by implication, deformed, aborted fetuses is not satisfactorily dealt with. Though sickening, what kept me glued was the wry performances, especially by Lovell and Jerry O'Donnell as a sarcastic detective, and the script's twisted lines like, "I, sir, am a gourmet of the unusual. You are merely a...gourmand!" The puppets cry. The puppets kill. Genius! PLAY.

ERNEST GOES TO AFRICA
Monarch
Slogan: "And Africa Will Never Be the Same."

"I've never allowed myself to be seduced by the blandishments of illusion and false hope," says a biddy in Grave Indiscretion. Well I have, at least where Ernest P. Worrell is concerned. I keep rooting for the guy. Before everyone in America was reciting the trademark phrase, "KnowhatImean?," I was fortunate to view the original "Hey, Vern" commercials made for a local Tennessee retailer. 30-second classics of wide-angle comedy, they announced a fresh--if repulsive--face on the low-comedy scene. And really, what is the difference between Ace Ventura and Ernest? Jim Varney's face probably contains even more Silly Putty than Jim Carrey's. The difference is material. "It's always good to have the monkeys on your side," Ernest says here. The chimps are with ya, pal. It's the writer/director you need to watch out for. John Cherry has written and directed all the Ernest films, to increasingly meager effect. Filmed in Johannesburg, if you have an alcoholic toddler in your home, this may prove diverting. Otherwise, EJECT.

Next: Vegas, baby!

HELLO, LARRY

2007-12-30T18:40:00.001-08:00

TRIGGER HAPPY
MGM/UA [CC]
Slogan: A Top-renting cast

This is "A Larry Bishop Film," the writer/director being a Joey Bishop production, Joey being a member of the Rat Pack, the Rat Pack having made the quintessential hipster/heist movie, Ocean's 11, of which this might be a deconstructed--or perhaps unconstructed--version. With Frank, Dean, and Sammy on the soundtrack, Trigger Happy distills the essence of gangster attitude with low-budget inventiveness and an A-budget cast: Richard Dreyfuss, Jeff Goldblum, Ellen Barkin, Gabriel Byrne, Diane Lane, Burt Reynolds, Kyle MacLachlan, Gregory Hines--not to mention Christopher Jones (unseen since 1968's Wild in the Streets), creepy Michael J. Pollard, creepier Juan Fernandez and Billy Drago, and creepiest--and Ocean's 11 alum--Henry Silva! With Larry Bishop as a hitman. And this list doesn't include the many unusual--and one alarming--cameos. Young Lar was obviously scarred by hanging around his father's cronies, but if nothing else, he offers an inspired twist on the gunfighter showdown. PLAY.

UNDERWORLD
Trimark
Slogan: Sometimes Revenge is the Best Therapy.

Larry Bishop wrote the script for this "A Robert Vince Production" and gave himself a featured role as, again, a soulless hitman. Larry definitely has a thing for gangsters, sharkskin suits, and stylized shootouts. And apparently a lot of daddy issues to work out. Denis Leary is some kind of hood on a killing spree avenging his father's death. He kidnaps Joe Mantegna, some kind of hood, and forces him to deal with his own papa problems, too. I was reminded of the baptism sequence in The Godfather, here extended to feature length, with a limo ride as the connecting device instead of a baptism. So, it's not really very much like The Godfather, is it? Except that Abe Vigoda looks glum in both films. But I don't think Traci Lords ever sang a song in a Coppola film. Whatever. PAUSE.

THE WINNER
Live Entertainment
Slogan: Even Losers Get Lucky Some Time.

Rebecca DeMornay does not do her own singing in this "A Ken Scwenker Production," but she fakes it nicely. As Executive Producer, she cast herself as a fringe Vegas floozy looking to cash in on the apparently enchanted winning streak of naive Vincent D'Onofrio. Richard Edson, Delroy Lindo, Michael Madsen, Billy Bob Thornton, and an appealingly overheated Frank Whaley also want a piece of the action. Filmed on the outskirts of Vegas, director Alex Cox--dangerously resembling Sid Vicious in a cameo--removes even the fake glamour from the Entertainment Capital of the World. But that doesn't leave much to watch except weird Whaley and delicious DeMornay. PAUSE.

DRUNKS
BMG Video [CC]
Slogan: All They Want Is Another Shot...

Hello, my name is Dave Nuttycombe and I am very glad that I am not an alcoholic. Though if I was, I wouldn't have to go out to AA meetings--I could just watch this tape. Basically an AA session with celebrity winos (Faye Dunaway, Parker Posey, Amanda Plummer, Spaulding Gray, Howard Rollins, Diane Wiest) telling horror stories in between scenes of Richard Lewis falling sickeningly off the wagon, the best moments are the drunk scenes--which bolsters the drinking-is-fun argument. And what's with all the cigarette smoking? As a comedian-who-wants-to-be-taken-seriously, Lewis acquits himself credibly, though you still hope for some jokes. Useful while under the influence, otherwise EJECT.

BLOODHOUNDS 2
Paramount [CC]
Slogan: A Famous Writer. An Obsessed Fan. And a Fatal Rejection.

"I spotted your weakness," Larry Bishop says in Trigger Happy, "you care." Yes, for some reason I do care--about poor Corbin Bernsen. Never watched his TV shows but I can't escape his video work. I'm 2 for 2 on this series, which is not quite jelling. On the plus side, Corbin has ditched the kung fu fembot from first film for the saucily perky videotrix Nia Peeples. But the gruesomeness of the story--the brutal killing of unconvicted rapists--doesn't jibe with Berson's supposedly light-hearted writer character. That the psycho killer is a super ninja is a bit too convenient, and I became more fascinated watching the art direction: Corbin lives in a fantastic house overlooking a river in Vancouver. Because I care, I want to visit it again in No. 3. EJECT.

CIRCUIT BREAKER
New Horizon
Slogan: Hard Wired for Destruction.

"Being a psycho is nothing to be ashamed of," says Denis Leary in Underworld. He hadn't seen Richard Grieco terrorizing Corbin Bernsen in Circuit Breaker. The last time we saw Grieco, his head was melting. Here it explodes. This is a good trend, because while his name doesn't rhyme with "psycho," it's close enough--and he should be ashamed. Corbin and wife take a "shortcut through the quasar" in a rental spaceship (!) to get medical help for their daughter, who doesn't seem very sick. The film almost becomes Event Horizon when they come across the shirtless Grieco's rocket. As lousy as that film was, at least the models weren't right out of an Aurora kit. However, it's reassuring to know that IBM keyboards are still standard in the future. The fake computer talk is entertaining ("Computer, generate theta stimulator." "Bypass her conscious brain."), but you do not bed the creature that just killed your family. Circuit Breaker bypassed my conscious brain. EJECT.

GLORY DAZE
Columbia TriStar [CC]
Slogan: A Smart Comedy About Getting Stupid

"You intend to captivate people with the plight of the affluent, suburban white male?" John Rhys-Davis asks mockingly of moping art student Ben Affleck. Apparently so is this stupid comedy about being moronic. A house full of goons drink and complain about women, though they don't even remotely deserve girlfriends--especially the jerk who mistreats my ex-flame, the winsome Megan Ward. Pointless, mindless, witless philosophizing followed by pointless, mindless, witless destruction. Allysa Milano does not get naked. Cameos by Matthew McConaughey when he was a nobody and Brendan Frazer when he was a chubb. Nice soundtrack by the Vandals and others. Buy the CD instead. EJECT.

OMEGA DOOM
Columbia TriStar [CC]
Slogan: Robots Rule the Earth. Only One Man Can Stop Them.

"Why don't you ever write about movies people want to see?" a colleague asked, cutting me to the quick. Let me explain: No one wants to watch a Rutger Hauer film. But I watch them so that when an extraordinarily important Rutger Hauer film comes along the world shall hear of it. Omega Doom is that Rutger Hauer film. Set in a post-apocalyptic nuclear winter (Brataslava), this "An Albert Pyun Film" plays like an Off-Broadway version of Ionesco's Robocop. Beginning auspiciously with "Once upon a time..." and quoting Dylan Thomas, narration informs us that Hauer is a robot "wounded in his program" so that he "forgets his prime directive." This leads him Shane-like into the middle of dispute between the New Wave shade-wearing Roms and the beyond thunderdome Droids. The illogic is as astounding as the dialogue is insane: "You're a lousy 5.5 upgrade. I've killed your kind before." "I'm not the droid I used to be." "Sometimes I wish I were created a drone." "You cut off my head, what more do you want?" Specially credited as The Head, Norbert Weisser uses this limitation to wildly overact. And, credit notwithstanding, "Mr. Hauer's Trainer" does not seem to be working overtime. PLAY.

Next: Chop-sexy!

THE TRUTH IS RIGHT HERE

2007-12-30T18:38:00.000-08:00

THE TURNING
Leo
Slogan: "...and introducing Gillian 'X-Files' Anderson"

Almost an hour into this tiredly talky Southern Gothic drama, Agent Scully unbuttons her blouse. Those gone giggly at that thought are advised to go to alt.binaries.nude.celebrities rather than to the video store. The freshest thing about this "A Film by L.A. Puopolo," made in 1992 but just now released to cash in on X-Files mania, is that it was shot in Southern Virginia. At the beginning of the tape, Mr. A Film By says with a straight face that Anderson agreed to the nudity because it was so important to the story, blah, blah, blah. Uh-uh. It's gratuitous, irrelevant, and not particularly invigorating, if you know what I mean. EJECT.

BREEDERS
A-PIX
Slogan: "It's Time to Prey."

After-the-fact explanations only work if what's being explained has been set up beforehand. For instance, it's no good telling us that the monster from Saturn is controlling all the coeds from, as the box puts it, "the depths of an all girls college" via fragments of the meteor he arrived in, which they are now wearing as jewelry, if we have not seen any of this jewelry—or very much of the coeds—until the gals suddenly appear and begin turning into killer zombies. But that's the least of the problems with this "A Paul Matthews Film," where characters change personality from one line to the next. Nice bas-relief creature on the box. No relief inside. EJECT.

LEPRECHAUN 4: IN SPACE
Vidmark [CC]
Slogan: "One Small Step for Man...One Giant Leap of Terror."

Warwick Davis plays the title role with appropriate gusto, though as my friend O'Leary pointed out with no small indignation, "It's not even an Irish accent!" As this is "A Film by Brian Trenchard-Smith," a charge of British imperialism may be in order. But Trenchard-Smith makes enough hay out of this intrinsically nonsensical concept to almost deserve the possessory title. The script is wry, the acting decent, the production values creatively attractive, and Davis blows up real good—many times. And Guy Siner out-Ottos Otto Preminger as a part machine/part man. Or vice versa. PLAY.

WEREWOLF
A-PIX
Slogan: "Rest in...Beast."

Moving the werewolf myth from eastern Europe to southwestern America and transposing it into Navaho lore is a good idea; hiring the Greater Flagstaff Remedial Theater Auxiliary to perform and buying the monster suit in the Halloween aisle at CVS are not. The box for this "A Tony Zarindast Production" is 3-D. The film barely approaches 1. The transformation scene is hammy, even by 1910 standards, coming off as some kind of interpretive werewolf dance. Creepy Richard Lynch picks up another check, but Charlie and Emilio's uncle Joe Estevez, in the Maria Ouspenskaya role, sums it up nicely for a fellow "Native American" in this exchange: "How bad is it?" "Bad." "How bad?" "Bad bad." EJECT.

STRIP SEARCH
A-PIX
Slogan: "Two Cops, Under Cover, Under Fire, Going Down."

"We didn't go all the way, but—somehow—you went further than any man. Ever. You were perfect." "It was wild. Perfect." "I feel like...the ocean. Like nothing. Nothing that has ever mattered to me should matter." "Yeah. Yeah." And fade the lights out. Cut to another bondage scene. That strange deadpan interlude between Michael Paré and a woman who may not be a woman only hints at the overwrought dialogue in this "A Film by Rod Hewitt" about vice cops sinking lower into slime. I liked it, then I hated it, then I liked it again. But it's got Pam Grier and a refreshingly dark and unexpected ending, so I won't hate it too much. PAUSE.

MAN WANTED
Tai Seng
Slogan: "If You're an Undercover Cop, You Go Deep...or You Get DEAD."

The nice thing about watching Chinese action movies is that they don't have distracting, big-ego Hollywood stars in them and you haven't heard how "difficult" they were to make on Entertainment Tonight. But they generally deliver the same Hollywood goods—and much faster. This gun-socky epic distills the entire two-plus hours that was Donnie Brasco in its first 10 minutes. Then we move on to several other plots, all of which can be explained in one subtitle: "Human relationships can be very scary." The fight scenes nearly out-Woo Woo—a guy in flames trading punches is particularly insane. But I worry that Hong Kong is copying Tinseltown too closely when a subtitle flashes, "Fuck you, motherfucker." What poor soul had to translate that? PLAY.

ZU: WARRIORS FROM THE MAGIC MOUNTAIN
Tai Seng
Slogan: "From Hong Kong's most extravagant director, Tsui Hark, comes the most fantastic adventure and fantasy romance story ever filmed!"

"That's the secret," says a narcotized creep in Strip Search. "There is no rhyme. There is no reason." Certainly this historical adventure tale has almost no reference points for Westerners. For example, the scene where one fighter massages another to "bring his veins into unison"—what's that about? But as a Fantasia-style spectacle, Zu is darn entertaining. There are vast fighting armies, each decked out in different primary colors, and there are underground fireworks, and everyone flies: the Evil Disciples, the Blood Demons, the Blood Crows, and what I took to be an Attack Tablecloth. But that's not the most fantastic thing. A guy actually uses his eyebrows as weapons. And his mustache. I said, a guy actually uses his eyebrows as weapons. And his mustache. But there is also some insightful dialogue: "You women have nothing better to do than to hide here and make up these ridiculous rules," snorts a disgruntled Disciple (or maybe a Blood Demon). Hey, isn't that what being a woman is all about? I say set the kids down in front of this one and have them explain it. PLAY.

Next: Battle of the Erotic Thriller Queens!

THE BREAST YEARS OF THEIR LIVES

2007-12-30T18:36:00.000-08:00

A thoughtful but anonymous reader wrote to suggest that my examination of erotic thriller queens must include the estimable Shannon Whirry. Sadly, the star of the Animal Instincts series is not as prolific as Shannon Tweed nor the Shannonesque Tane McClure, so we will have to wait until AI3 for a full appraisal. But thanks for asking.

What is striking about the "erotic thriller" genre is that these are just the kinds of films that Jack Horner--the Burt Reynolds character in Boogie Nights--dreamed of making: smut with stories and characters we care for. Current product reveals what a sad dream that was, a confused denial of the purpose of porn. All the talking gets in the way of the nudity, which in the cases at hand doesn't fully deliver. The eroticism is presented in quick-cut montages that seem assembled from the same list: she on top, rollover, he on top, hint of orality, giddyup cowboy, dissolve to morning, argument. The wah-wah funk score has been replaced with New Age lite jazz. In satisfying the market for hedonistic, amoral fantasies, real pornography is the more honest form. Maybe you don't feel as slimy watching Red Shoe Diaries as Debbie Does Dallas, but you'll be bored more often.

I invited my friend Jeff to help me with this month's careful scientific evaluation. Jeff is the editor of the electronic Witzelsucht Memorandum, and founder of the Delphine Zentout Appreciation Society. In other words, a connoisseur. He also brought some interesting beer.

HUMAN DESIRES
Columbia/Tristar
Slogan: Looks CAN Kill

"She still looks fantastic," a character says of Shannon Tweed, who as a pioneer of the erotic thriller has filmed more nude scenes than even Harvey Keitel. And she does look great, though she's playing "executive" rolls these days, leaving most of the "love interludes" to younger gals. Tweed is clearly a smart cookie, having worked up to executive status herself--she's associate producer of this murder mystery about scheming models. Ironically, her status demands higher production value and more involved plots, which in turn merely makes the intermittent nakedness seem that much sillier. Almost as silly as the actor playing the David Sanborn-as-Hef character. Continuing a trend for women-directed erotica, this is An Ellen Earnshaw Film, which also means that a man will cry. That crybaby is an unshaven PI, who mopes, "I made myself a promise--no more of the rough stuff. My life is simple now. The worst I see is a few broken hearts and some dirty pictures." Hey, that's my life! FREEZE-FRAME.

SEXUAL ROULETTE
A-Pix
Slogan: Play now. Pay later.

This A Gary Graver Film is Indecent Proposal in reverse, which may sound high concept but answer me this: If a woman offers a man $40 grand to spend the night with her--and his wife doesn't have to know--what guy wouldn't jump at the deal? Even when the woman is the equinely-intimidating Tane McClure. A leading contender for Tweed's crown, McClure seems more eager than Tweed to doff the lingerie, but appears more a creation of science than study. The real question is why a supposed erotic thriller has such a downbeat ending? Isn't the purpose to thrill you, erotically? "I know words don't mean a damn thing at a time like this," Tane declared while seducing hubby in her penthouse lair. This one does: EJECT.

EXPOSE
New Horizons
Slogan: Politicians all have their weaknesses. She's one.

"Let me get this straight," asked Jeff after several inexplicable nude scenes had dulled our senses. "She was going to blackmail him by showing that video to her father. But he's blackmailing her by threatening to send it to...her father?" Jeff's perplexion perceptively sums up the confusion at the heart of this story about a politician's daughter who is mistaken for a prostitute and decides to cash in on the error. But even that faulty logic gives way to much ugliness and a bloody conclusion. "What about the taut political thriller?" Jeff demanded, another victim of cover-art hype. Have another beer. That everything ends tragically is appropriate since there is absolutely no one to root for. EJECT.

DINOSAUR VALLEY GIRLS: THE DIRECTOR'S CUT
E.I. Independent Cinema

In this age of Jurassic Park, it takes nerve to make a film with stop-motion clay dinosaurs and closeups of live-action Gila Monsters pretending to be dinosaurs. The trick kinda worked very early in this century. If the filmmakers were high school kids, or even college-age, one would say, "Atta-boy!" But these are deeply middle-aged men and not so fresh starlets running around in vaudeville caveman outfits speaking cave-talk ("tooka-tooka," indeed). "If they live apart from the men and won't have anything to do with them," wondered Jeff, "why do they get themselves all dolled up?" That was the fancy beer talking. Why does the dino's claw only rip off the brassier? Why is there a sudden rock video in the middle, extolling the Alyosaurus? Why is Karen Black--last seen mouthing nonsense in Plan Ten From Outer Space--again in a role that requires no English? Why is William (Blackula) Marshall involved? Why is this the "director's cut'? Why ask why? For refreshing my faith in humankind, I give it PAUSE.

WEDDING BELL BLUES
BMG Video [CC]
Slogan: Micki, Tanya, and Jasmine have 24 hours to get divorced. There's just one problem...They're still single.

After hours of intense research, Jeff exclaimed, "What I wouldn't give to see a realistic, saggy breast." The good news is that they're in this film about three almost-30 women with man troubles. The grudging good news is that Paulina Porizkova, Illeana Douglas, and Julie Warner are far too classy to put them on display. What is on display in this A Film By Dana Lustig is Paulina's surprising confidence as an actress. She gives the line, "You really should try masturbating," all of the nuance and believability that it requires--and how long have I been waiting to hear her speak to me like that? Now, if she'd only make a film with Shannon Tweed....Anyway, Douglas--the distaff Buscemi--is her usual spunky self, the sorely missed Victoria Jackson has a cameo, as does the always classy Charles Martin Smith. It's a chick flick, sure, but with laughs and very little weeping. PAUSE.

SCHIZOPOLIS
Fox-Lorber
Slogan: Warning--all attempts at synopsizing the film have ended in failure and hospitalization.

All directors are frustrated or former actors, but who would have guessed that art-house filmmaker Steven Soderbergh was such a wacky nut? He expertly plays a very amusing Dilbert, slaving pointlessly in a cubicle at a Scientology-style organization pushing something called "Eventualism." If you take away all the film-school-style techniques, there is a very funny film about modern office life hiding within this bizarrely constructed pastiche. Perhaps he's remaking his own Kafka as slapstick. Appearing on a stage at the beginning, Soderbergh declares that Schizopolis is "the most important film you will ever see. See it at full price," and explained that if we didn't understand it "keep in mind that this is your fault, not ours. You will need to see the film again and again until you understand everything." I will. PLAY.

HYPERSPACE
Screen Pix

The first words that Richard Norton utters in this film: "Release the head." He says this to ex-wrestler Big John Studd. Later, ex-wrestler Professor Tanaka rips a noggin loose. An auspicious start, but these scenes have almost nothing to do with HyperSpace, which takes place on an interstellar garbage scow that has run out of gas. Sadly, even Ron (Superfly) O'Neal adheres to the black-guy-dies-first rule. Lynn-Holly Johnson can barely manage lines like "It's hard to know what love is." Norton manages to work in some of his kickboxing, which only makes one hope for more--or any--action. "I'm not sure I want to know how this turns out," Jeff had mumbled. It doesn't turn out, it just sorta ends. EJECT.

SNOWBOARD ACADEMY
Columbia/Tristar [CC]
Slogan: The path to higher education is all downhill!

If his credit were "and Joe Flaherty" or "with Joe Flaherty as...," the former SCTV great might have some deniability about showing up in a Corey Haim/Brigitte Nielsen/Jim Varney film. Just picking up a check for a quick cameo, you know. But third-billed after Stallone's second wife is in too deep. The sadness in my heart is mirrored on Flaherty's face as he tries to react to "Hey, Vern!" Varney's non-jokes and Nielsen's odd accent. The wrinkles on Varney's face are also cause for alarm. But not as alarming as the sheer bulk of Brigitte. "How does a movie like this come to be?" Jeff had asked. Well, this is A John Shepphird Film, which apparently means no nudity, no dazzling snowboarding footage, and no sense to the script. Next time, Joe, just say no. EJECT.

Next: It's alive! (If you call that living.)

DAS JUNGLE MONSTER

2007-12-30T18:35:00.001-08:00

DNA
Cabin Fever
Slogan: Don't Mess With Mother Nature.

In the Philippines, DNA from the bones of a space monster is mixed with a smushed-up tropical insect to create a superfighter creature in this "A William Mesa Film." With Das Boot's Jurgen Prochnow scowling villainously, things begin a la Raiders, then become Jurassic Park, then Alien, then Predator, then Rambo, then Predator again, all to a soundtrack reminiscent of Batman. Plus: The cute tyke gets killed. Minus: Not until the end. EJECT.

HYBRID
Crowd Pleasers
Slogan: An Experiment Gone Haywire

In the future, DNA from an alien is mixed with snake and cockroach DNA and injected into humans in order to make superfighter creatures. The close-ups of the plastic monster head kinda minimize the fright factor. How futuristic is it? Scientists are still using VHS tape. Grant the film an Oscar for most inventively forced shower scene, which features scream queen Brinke Stevens, and give another one for gall to the blonde obviously reading her lines off cue cards. John Barrymore III is no John Barrymore II, however. EJECT.

HABITAT
A-Pix
Slogan: Welcome to a Living Hell.

After the ozone layer has been destroyed, a renegade scientist discovers "accelerated evolution," but an accident turns his house into a living thing and him into a superevolved Tinkerbell light show within it. The rain-forest sets are keen, and Balthazar Getty is a convincing "Young Charlie Sheen," but while this Canada-Netherlands co-production of "A Rene Daalder Film" is visually stylish--especially when the house is eating people--it is also utterly insane in its apocalyptic dystopian vision. The haunting theme song begins thusly: "In the garden of our love, many things may grow." EJECT.

JACK FROST
A-Pix
Slogan: He's Chillin'...And Killin'.

A serial killer is caught in a blast of "genetic research material" and his, yes, DNA, becomes one with the snow. That means he turns, literally, into Frosty. Director Michael Cooney displays flashes of dark wit, and before he has to put on the costume, Scott MacDonald is pretty good. But who can be scary with a carrot nose and an old top hat? The costume is right out of an elementary-school pageant, and choking scenes only reveal Frosty's fuzzy mittens. I probably should have reviewed this last month, but the holidays are hard enough. Nice 3-D box art, though. Because it must be seen to be believed: PLAY.

SANTA WITH MUSCLES
Cabin Fever

In America, steroids are injected into professional wrestlers in order to make superfighter creatures. I'm guessing that Hulk Hogan's DNA now resembles the outline for this script: curly, crazy, and indecipherable without a microscope. Ed Begley Jr. is no John Barrymore I, but neither are Clint Howard or Garrett Morris. All of them, however, should perhaps emulate the career savvy of Drew Barrymore (not that we need to see any of them naked). I probably should have reviewed this last month, but it's really for children who don't believe in Santa. Or much of anything. "Being Santa opened my eyes. And I didn't like what I saw," emotes the Hulkster. Substitute "watching" for "being" and I couldn't agree more. EJECT.

MILLIONAIRES' EXPRESS
Tai Seng
Slogan: A Slap-Stick Western Romp With Kung Fu Kick

Take Buster Keaton's The General, set it in China, add kung fu and about 18,000 subplots--new characters and stories pop up every couple of minutes, the scenes ranging in tone from Love, American Style style to Three Stooges slapstick--and you still may not have an accurate description of this Sammo Hung widescreen rice-noodle western. Competing gangs vie for a train filled with rich people, and everything--and I mean everything--comes to a head in a small frontier town. Blink and you'll miss Cynthia Rothrock and Richard Norton. And several subplots. But there are enough outrageous stunts to give one PAUSE.

GALAXY GIRLS
MTI

"Fast-forward until we find some space aliens, 'cause I'm getting tired of this," said my friend Patty. She was right, "this" being tedious dialog and a leaden plot. Then suddenly, and arbitrarily, the monster was upon us. "Kick-ass alien!" Patty exclaimed, and I had to smile. She was probably unfamiliar with the old trick of renting a surfer's wet suit and adding a bulbous rubber monster head to achieve an otherworldly lifeform effect that is quite stunning in its glaring fraudulence. Patty undoubtedly hasn't seen as many films by 13-year-olds as I have. But co-producer/star Gail Harris is an adult, a veteran of many "women's erotica" films, and the fact that the producer/director shares the same last name may explain the one perfunctory "love" scene. There's a cameo by veteran B-director Fred Olen Ray, who has made slightly better films, and while Gail has a certain Aussie charm, the girl on the box is not in the movie. EJECT.

Next month: Oh, That's Gotta Hurt!

QU'EST-CE QUE C'EST?

2007-12-30T18:33:00.001-08:00

PSYCHO SISTERS
E.I. Independent Cinema
Slogan: Insanity Is the Diagnosis...Revenge Is the Cure.
"I love the way they argue covered in blood," observed my friend Patty. Yes, how quintessentially dramatic, n'est-ce pas? Though I'm not convinced that this "A Pete Jacelone Film" is really concerned with truly exploring the human psyche. Psycho, yes, hence the, ahem, titular gals, who spend most of their time a-Bobbitting, a task requiring many changes of form-flattering apparel. But soon enough Patty was pleading, "Are we fast-forwarding through any of this movie? Can we, please?" Though it's only been a week since I saw it, my memory has already faded. But I recall this song: "Young children of God take my hand..." Haunting. I declare it is the best film of 1998. See it with a young child of God. EJECT.

THE DARK ANGEL: PSYCHO KICKBOXER
E.I. Independent Cinema
Curtis Bush is a reigning kickboxing champ and so is due a starring role in a movie about...kickboxing. But in choosing to make "A Film by Mardy South," the not-entirely-charismatic lad has dampened his chances of replacing any of the many other current kickboxing action stars. Basically a random series of styleless, unchoreographed fight scenes with gym buddies, the flick was shot in no light by the side of the road in various New Jersey industrial parks. It's as if they just stopped the van, hopped out, and started kicking at each other while the cameraman tried to follow and pedestrians stepped out of the way. The "Dark Angel" bit means Bush wears a modified Bazooka Joe outfit that covers his mouth, rendering his normally mush-mouthed delivery even less emphatic. And who thought that Truman Capote would be a good model for an evil Mr. Big? "Why don't they just shoot each other?" Patty asked, not unreasonably. Grant points for offering an overweight woman as the love interest, but deduct those same points for the lengthy bath scene. Still, with several excellent exploding heads, this is clearly the most important film of 1998. EJECT.

TRUE VENGEANCE
FM Entertainment
Slogan: Trained by the Navy...Hunted as a Killer...Only She Would Discover His Real Secret.
Daniel Bernhardt is one of the many interchangeable white martial arts movie stars Hollywood throws at us instead of giving the market what it wants and deserves: a black martial arts star. Which is not to insult the heavily muscled Aryan. After all, he says things like, "You think you can kill me? No one can kill me." Curtis Bush certainly couldn't. In this "A David Worth Film," Bernhardt plays a former Navy Seal who, says former supermodel Beverly Johnson, "got his priorities confused and had to go under...way under." Actually, he got set up and they keep pulling him back in! The reason he's pulled back in is because evil Asian industrialists say things like, "Control of virtual memory technology is pivotal to our organization." The fights go: my turn--my turn--my turn, your turn--your turn--your turn, my turn, I win. Over and over. But the interesting thing is that for some reason this tape arrived with a complimentary Chinese-made squirt gun. The toy had a "True Vengeance" logo sticker on it, but peeling it up revealed the gun's real name: Thunder Pet. "Thunder Pet" is a great name for a movie. I want to see Thunder Pet. I want to have a Thunder Pet. I want to be Thunder Pet! Thunder Pets are go! The most exciting movie tie-in of 1998! PAUSE.

BOMBSHELL
Trimark
Slogan: They Were on the Verge of a Scientific Breakthrough Until It Became a...BOMBSHELL
So if Spike Lee can affectedly call his films "A Spike Lee Joint," why can't this be "A Paul Wynne Mix"? Sure, it's obnox times two and you want to slap the guy, but there is some kind of vision at work here, at least in the art direction. It's a vision of the future, all pink hair, shiny clothes, lava lamps, and primary colors. And, hey, a justification for Orbitz. In the year 2011, nanoengineering scientists Henry Thomas and Frank Whaley are tampering in God's domain on instructions from the ubiquitous Brion James. Madchen Amick is suitably futuristic, and it's good to see Pamela (Cherry 2000) Gidley again, but what is the deal with Victoria Jackson? She's been showing up for a single scene in every other weird DTV film, as if her career is now just some crazy hobby. "You're supposed to tell the truth! You're a journalist!" a character shouts. If that's the case, I cannot lie: This is the finest film of 1998. PLAY.

RETURN TO SAVAGE BEACH
Monarch
Slogan: The Big Guns Are Back!
Like all other Savage Beach movies, this is "An Andy Sidaris Film." Unlike in most other "A Somebody/Nobody Films," the Sidaris label is a mark of a certain kind of distinction. A former TV sports producer, Andy makes movies for people who think jet skis and sport utility vehicles are elegant. Who think ex-Penthouse Pets like Julie Strain are glamorous. Who think double-stretch limos are classy. All of these are Sidaris staples, along with scripts as witty as a strip-o-gram. Andy's muscle-bound actors struggle like third-graders to recite lines like "Cobra, you're amazing. Working undercover. In a nightclub. As a stripper." In short, he makes movies for pinheads. He is a wealthy man. But the ending involves a face being ripped off to reveal the real killer, several dummies blow up nicely, and any film that has a credit reading "Adventure Amphibians by Happy Smiles" is surely one of the best films of the year. FREEZE-FRAME.

STAG
Cabin Fever
Slogan: Before He Gets to Say "I Do..." You Won't Believe What They Did!
In an act-fest, men will kiss. They will sweat. They will cry. They will vomit. In an act-fest, we will hear all of their stories. They will work out their issues. They will be "in the moment." The kissing (on the cheek), sweating, crying, and vomiting is always done in a lusty, manly way, of course. This is an act-fest with a big cast, so there are many stories, many issues, and much vomiting. Mario Van Peebles, Kevin Dillon, Ben Gazzara, Jerry Stiller, Andrew McCarthy, that guy from Talk Soup, and--omigod, it is!--Taylor Dayne ("keeping her roots dyed," Patty noted) act all over what I'm guessing is the producer's country estate as a bachelor party goes terribly wrong. Surprisingly effective, Dayne should be working more (not in the music business, and not in this kind of movie, however). Playing a weasel with real bad teeth, McCarthy offers his most appealing performance in years. Still, Patty was heard to exclaim, "There has to be something going on here!" Sadly, in an act-fest nothing ever really goes on. "Can't they shoot each other in an act-fest?" she suggested. Hmmm...not a bad idea. But the Oscar always goes to an act-fest. And this is the finest act-fest of 1998. PAUSE.

TIME TRACERS
Chimera Cinema
Slogan: A Chase Through Time...A Race Against Death...
It's not a chase, it's not a race. It's a very slow hour until we get to the Jurassic period, where the sunny countryside is filled with stop-motion dinosaurs apparently left over from Dinosaur Valley Girls. Before then, the script is all exposition, long speeches of blather that never get around to clearly explaining why the evil, bald industrialist is searching for a prehistoric dinoman--that is, a guy in a lizard suit. That fake Bigfoot footage is more convincing. We do learn that "by digitizing mass and reassigning it in relative space-time, we're able to circumvent both time and locality." For that reason, and the double-twist Twilight Zone ending, I must conclude that this is the finest film of 1954. EJECT.

ERNEST IN THE ARMY
Monarch
Slogan: America's Hero Is Finally Back in Camp!
Before the shrink-wrap was off the box, Patty said, "You know, we will be fast-forwarding." Because she had served our country in the Armed Forces, I was eager for Patty's opinion of Ernest's latest adventure. Right off the bat she spotted a casting flaw: "You can't be that fat, even in the Reserves." And Patty was also right that much fast-forwarding did occur as Ernest attempted to win some Desert Stormish war, mocking Arabs and saving orphans all the while. But after our movie marathon, Patty declared, "Ernest was the best thing we saw." Agreed. In fact, I'd call it the best film of all time. EJECT.

Next Month: Kill or be killed

DEATH BE NOT, LIKE, PROUD

2007-12-30T18:32:00.001-08:00

KILLING TIME
Columbia TriStar
Slogan No. 1: Revenge Is a Dish Best Served Cold.
Slogan No. 2: Two Guns Are Better Than One.
Slogan No. 3: Payback Is a Bitch...Named Maria.
Obviously, that last slogan is the best. The first is, of course, an old Klingon saying, and the second is obvious, but the third has the makings of a very handy and versatile catch phrase. I know I'll be using it often, substituting the name of whichever two-timing hussy has most recently shattered my world. "A Richard Johns Production" of "A Film by Bharat Nalluri" "Introducing Kendra Torgan" as the rail-thin model-slash-assassin, this La Femme Nikita/Long Kiss Goodnight "homage" has an appealing European darkness. Even though there's almost no nudity and long talky sequences doubtless inserted to pad the film to feature length, there are songs by U2 and Portishead. See it with someone who's been hired to kill you but whom you plan to double-cross. PLAY.

BURIED ALIVE II
Universal
Slogan: Revenge Lies Just Beneath the Surface.
I think I like the Universal logo the best. You know, the words orbiting around our planet, which is spinning happily in bright outer space. But that ended quickly, and then I was staring at Ally Sheedy, who looks like she's auditioning to play Karen Carpenter. Director Tim Matheson is also looking undead, but he's supposed to be. If you missed Buried Alive I, don't worry—that whole story is retold. And then retold again, as the plot to this movie. The creepiest thing about this film is the discussion of mortuary techniques and embalming practices. EJECT.

SLAPPY AND THE STINKERS
Columbia TriStar
Slogan: Five Kids. One Sea Lion. No Rules.
"A Barnet Kellman Film" has even less meaning when it is "A Sheinberg Production." That's Sid, Bill, and Jon, but the latter two don't count: They're the kids. Daddy Sid was the longtime No. 2 at Universal before tiring of the Japanese way of business after the company's takeover. He formed "The Bubble Factory" to keep his hand in. Mr. Spielberg considers Mr. Sheinberg a mentor—was married to his niece for a while. I bring this up because this "Columbia TriStar Family Collection" offering has all the markings of an executive-commissioned work. It's a blatant attempt to cash in on the success of another film (Free Willy), and the script is an assemblage of sitcom-level verbal and visual clichés, the usual result of creative input from the marketing department. Worse (but typically), the kids speak like cynical college freshmen. What is more annoying than cynical college freshmen? Instead of offering precocious kids doing normal kid stuff—à la Our Gang/Little Rascals—Slappy forces adult language and attitude into children's mouths. The relentless coarse humor may appeal to youngsters, but such a diet is harmful to their development and the future of our society. B.D. Wong gets to sing Gilbert & Sullivan, and Bronson Pinchot gets yet another paycheck. Verdict: Not enough slappy, too much stinky. EJECT.

THE LAST DAYS OF FRANKIE THE FLY
Cabin Fever
The indie-film quirksters are out in force in this "A Peter Markle Film": Dennis Hopper, Michael Madsen, Kiefer Sutherland, and Daryl Hannah, who, as an actress-hooker-addict struggling to change her life, says, "Come on, touch my butt." Oh, that was a scene I played over and over and over. And over. Frankie is much grimmer than it needs to be, but Hopper is quite affecting as a dim loser. As has been pointed out elsewhere in these pages, Kiefer has been taking Shatner lessons. And Daryl makes an excellent Bettie Page. I was touched. PLAY.

OVERNIGHT DELIVERY
New Line
Slogan: They've Got 24 Hours to Stop a Package, Prevent a Disaster, and Fall in Love.
D.C. homeboy Walter Egan's only hit, 1978's "Magnet and Steel," is actually integral to the story of this "A Film by Jason Bloom." We hear it several times, once played by Matthew Sweet. My band was on the same bill as Walt's when he played in the local group Sageworth & Drums. Twice, in fact; the gigs were about a year apart. And Walt's band played the same set each time. None of which was as catchy as "Magnet and Steel." I bring this up to avoid discussing this John Hughesish tale of opposites attracting to find perfect love. The wacky complications depend entirely on forcible and random avoidance of the rational. Reese Witherspoon and Paul Rudd are watchable; Blondie and Stevie Wonder are on the soundtrack. PAUSE.

LOSER
Film Kitchen
Slogan: Born White Trash, Going Nowhere Fast.
This really is "A Kirk Harris Film" because it stars Kirk Harris. He plays a guy who is such a loser that he steals a Chevy Cavalier. A scrappy, ultra-low-budget work that arrives with much praise from the festival circuit, it's often fairly sluggish—but I like any movie that has the line "Coming to the party tonight?" PAUSE.

PLAN B
Monarch
Slogan: Do You Know Anyone Whose Life Turned Out Like They Planned?
Bless Jon Cryer for actively working to give the DTV genre something other than monsters, martial arts, and massive mammaries. Not that there's anything wrong with those. And at times during this talk-fest about whining almost-thirtysomethings, a naked breast or beast might have been welcome. As it is, all the women look like Nancy Kerrigan. We also hear the same "I missed Woodstock" riff that was in Cryer's The Pompatus of Love. More glib than insightful, the characters wait the entire movie to discover the blatantly obvious. The credits thank Robert Wagner. I'd like to thank Robert Wagner, too: Thanks, R.J. PAUSE.

Next month: Tony, Tony, Tony!

WHERE'S THE BOSS?

2007-12-30T18:30:00.000-08:00

HUGO POOL
BMG
Slogan: The Right Kind of Strange
"How many syllables, Mario?" Cognoscenti recognize that line from the classic film Putney Swope by Robert Downey Sr. It seemed a classic in 1969. Since then, the director has given the world absolutely nothing of note except Robert Downey Jr., which rather adds insult to injury. Dad is listed as director and Junior writes and acts wildly in this discombobulated tale of a pool cleaner (Alyssa Milano) with a dysfunctional family who meets other dysfunctional people, most of whom own pools. "This is really poorly written," said my friend Patty as Alyssa Milano climbed into the shower in the first two minutes. "What the hell is going on?" asked Sean, passing by the TV room while Malcolm McDowell did a Burgess Meredith impression. "Is this method acting?" Patty wanted to know as Downey Jr. writhed. "He's even drooling!" "I don't understand," said Ginger. "It looks like a good movie." And indeed, the color is quite appealing. "How could it be so awful?" wailed Ginger. "All the things I like are here," Patty admitted. "Horse-riding, rigs." "Oh, wait, there's some acting happening," Ginger interjected. "Alyssa Milano is very distressed here," noted Elissa. And so was I, until, surprise of surprises -- Chuck Barris appeared. The retired game-show mogul looks fantastic for a man who sold his soul to the devil. Here's a random selection from Barris' 1984 "unauthorized" autobiography, Confessions of a Dangerous Mind: "'Why you?' Lucy Sue Glopp had asked while spreading Borden's canned whipped cream on my pecker. 'Why do YOU want to host "The Gong Show"?' We were lying naked atop my massive four-poster bed. 'Greed,' I answered, my arms clasped behind my head. 'Pure and simple greed.'" Who knows why Chuck chose this film to return to show business? Who knows why this film was made, or what it means? But let's not be entirely negative. As Patty noted: "Nice accordion." EJECT.

LOVE TO KILL
A-Pix
Slogan: Not Your Typical Girl Shoots Boy Movie
"I think Tony Danza is a fine actor," Elissa said on her way out the door before the tape could start. Indeed, if Tony had been able to deliver lines like, "Why is Beth dead in the closet?!" on his sitcom, I would have watched. Alyssa Milano's former dad plays a gun runner with a heart, a gangster who dusts, in this "A James Bruce Film" that is not at all obvious. In addition to Louise Fletcher ("Interesting caftan," Patty observed), a deliciously slutty Amy Locane, and the usual Michael Madsen, we are treated to the unexpected Todd Bridges and Moon (formerly Unit) Zappa! The henchmen say things like, "You have to learn to manage your anger," and women chew gum and fire guns at the same time. "That was a good laugh," said Patty. Yes it was. PLAY.

THE EXOTIC TIME MACHINE
Surrender Cinema
Slogan: Take the Ultimate Pleasure Trip.
"This one's only 80 minutes," Patty keenly pointed out. "We're watching this one." In the first scene, the actors disrobed, after this exchange. He: "I thought we were going to keep this relationship...professional." She: "It's just that I have so much energy from the time machine." "Is this an instruction video?" Ginger asked, before catching on. "Oh, I see," she said. "They're going to have sex in other eras." Yes, that seemed to be the 80-minute recipe. So, we stopped the tape and switched to Beauty Investigator instead. But as the lovely Jacqueline Lovell instructed at the start of Time Machine: For more information, JPEGs, MPEGS, and AVIs, log on to surrendercinema.com. FREEZE-FRAME.

BEAUTY INVESTIGATOR
Tai Seng
Slogan: Two Undercover Cops on a Mission of Revenge!
"They kicked each other in the face at the same time," observed Patty. "Interesting." Yes, indeed, a chick-fight-ˆ-trois between a pair of lady Hong Kong cops and a Japanese hit woman is always interesting. Before that, the gals go undercover as "hostesses, not prostitutes," a distinction perhaps too subtle for Western minds, though we are reminded that "big in the chest doesn't mean small in the head." We are also told that these ladies are "trained to fight, not seduce," and fight they do, because this is more socky than sexy. "Let me get this straight," Patty wanted to know, "A couple of strange ladies sit you down and you immediately start confessing all the secrets of the crime lord?" For these strange ladies in their Carnaby Street fashions, you better believe it! And I give extra credit for this screen credit: "Special Effect: Bobby." PLAY.

NIGHT VISION
Peachtree
Slogan: He Swore to Protect and Serve -- Then He Broke ALL the Rules.
Fred "The Hammer" Williamson is the baddest of the badass blaxploitation badasses. It's fun to watch him swagger, even when he's walking around in his BVDs, which he does regularly in this movie, produced by, um, Fred Williamson. As Dakota Smith, he's an alcoholic cop living in a shelter who really wants to change. So, perhaps, does Fred, because there are as many AA meetings as explosions. But change he will, because we hear Jada Pointer singing, "Hey, Dakota! I know you can make it, yes you can-can, yes you can." Martial arts co-star Cynthia Rothrock is a dear friend of a dear friend. I've never met her, but I must say her new breasts are flattering -- though I'm sad she felt it necessary to buy them. Sadder, she doesn't have much to do except fill out her uniform. Hammer, don't hurt me: EJECT.

THE ENQUIRERS
Detour Pictures
Slogan: See & Believe!...Maybe
This is less a film than a dissertation right out of the Neal Postman canon. Television is dangerous, one character tells the Tom Hanks-ian star, "because it sucks the truth of life out of the individual and replaces it with insignificant pulp." This film replaces camera movement, lighting, and multiple, interesting sets with none of the above, adding only an extraterrestrial booking agent, an Elvis imitator who sings only obscure Elvis songs, and a stand-up comic whose act consists of an excellent deconstruction of The Andy Griffith Show. A bit ponderous, but there's a lesson to be learned here. I don't know what it is, but I appreciate the effort. PAUSE.

STAR KID
Trimark
Slogan: Kick Some Alien Butt!
I invited my young neighbors Rashad, 11, Kiya, 7, and little Sharte, 5, over for an evening of pizza and "A Film by Manny Coto." Originally, the draw was Domino's, but something about kid star Joseph Mazzello climbing into a robot suit from space and making a mess of things had the kids paying more attention to the screen than the pepperoni. Good, more for me. For sure, Joey has a certain Ringwaldian quality that makes him a face to watch. And actual money was spent on this project, and spent well. Little Sharte alternated between hiding behind the couch pillows when the monsters were loose and bouncing up and down laughing as Robot Joey wrecked several houses. "Yeah, it was cool," said Rashad. "I would recommend it for other kids." So would I. PLAY.

YOU'RE ON YOUR OWN: The man at United Film Distributors said that it wasn't cost-effective to make any more screening copies available of his films Prey of the Jaguar, Skeletons, and Firestorm. Also unavailable or unlocatable: The Dreaded, Dark Carnival, Dark Angels, Bleeding Hearts, Enemy, Boundaries, Illicit Confessions, Desires of Innocence, Prison Heat, Sweet Evil, Underground, Death by Love, Highjacking Hollywood, and, most cruelly, Bikini Med School. But don't weep too hard -- got a boatload of Dolph Lundgren and some fresh Julie Strain.

Next: God bless America!

NEARER MY DOLPH TO THEE

2007-12-30T18:27:00.000-08:00

BLACKJACK
Dimension
Slogan: Explosive!

Muscle-headed ex-footballer Howie Long's fire movie played in D.C. theaters, but this Dolph Lundgren vehicle—directed by John Woo, no less—went right to video. Is there a God? I mean, Dolph is twice the muscle-head that Long is. And as a high-priced bodyguard, he shows range, depth, and fashion sense. This is a contemplative Dolph, who adopts an orphan girl and helps a pill-popping model kick her habit. "There's nothing harder than being a good father," he tells us, and later admits, "I cry sometimes." So do I, Dolph, so do I. But I laugh at what is absolutely the most insane plot complication ever: Dolph must struggle to overcome his fear of...white. Yes, the color. Or absence of color. Whenever there is too much white, Dolph goes gaga. Maybe, wonders the beautiful psychiatrist, he is "afraid of something white represents." I was a little afraid during the fight in the milk warehouse. But I didn't cry. PLAY.

SILENT TRIGGER
Hollywood Pictures
Slogan: They Trained Him to Kill...Now They Want Him Dead.

Muscle-headed ex-footballer Howie Long's fire movie played in D.C. theaters, but this Dolph Lundgren vehicle—directed by Russell Mulcahy, no less—went right to video. Is there a God? Dolph continues his pensive ways, this time as a conscience-plagued sniper. The sets are right out of the video game Quake—perfect, since the androidish Lundgren resembles Duke Nukem. As in a good video game, all the politics of assassination and most of the exposition are tossed so that we may concentrate on the pure process of killing, the intricate pre-snipe rituals. "Do you remember your first kill?" asks co-sniper Gina Bellman. "They're not people—they're targets," corrects Dolph. As in a good video game, there is heavy philosophy underneath: "I started to doubt," says Dolph. "The face of every target was the face in the mirror." The real question is: Can snipers fall in love? I won't spoil it. See this with someone who's packing. The fine soundtrack is obviously the result of this credit: "Music consultant for Shiro Records: Shiro." PLAY.

FREEDOM STRIKE
A-Pix
Slogan: Dead on Target

The real fallout from the Persian Gulf War is that it has extended Michael Dudikoff's career. Here the star of American Ninja 1 through 197 heads a "special U.N. strike force" that must stop a Middle East madman from launching nuclear weapons. The filmmakers don't hide behind some fake country; they spell it out clearly: It's Syria, and we hate their Arabian guts. Speaking of guts, Mike is starting to resemble Ryan O'Neal. But Tone Loc, even with the snappy uniform, does not resemble an Army officer. Most of the action in this "A Jerry P. Jacobs Film" involves guys getting shot and falling off tall buildings. Stock military footage is used effectively, of course; this project had the cooperation of the Defense Department. I'm not sure that the State Department would approve of this much Arab-bashing, but, hey, there's a very nice spit-take. And America is No. 1 when it comes to spit-takes. EJECT.

OPERATION DELTA FORCE
Live Entertainment
Slogan: Negotiations Are Over.

I was expecting Arabs, but it's racist Afrikaners this time as Jeff Fahey and Ernie (the Other Ghostbuster) Hudson lead a "special military unit" across the dark continent to prevent a madman from unleashing an extra-strength Ebola virus in this "A Film by Sam Firstenberg." We know Fahey is serious because he has a very bad haircut. And when the script remembers he's there, Hudson brings a certain dignity to the proceedings, most of which involve guys getting shot and falling off tall buildings. No spit-takes, and the military stock footage is not that convincing, but Hal Holbrook, Frank Zagarino, and the evil Joe Lara are. PAUSE.

UNCLE SAM
A-Pix
Slogan: I Want You...Dead

P.J. Soles, so perky in Rock and Roll High School, has barely one line in this "A George G. Braunstein Production" of "A William Lustig Picture." The same folks who brought us Jack Frost now turn to another icon, but it is never clear why the monster must wear the Uncle Sam suit. Or how he's become a monster. (Something about the Gulf War.) Or why he's out for revenge. What begins as a fairly measured debate on heroism and war becomes typical random slasher fare, squandering the goodwill built on lines like, "Not now, Ralph, there's a dead body in the house." Isaac Hayes makes an effort, but it is creepy William Smith who closes the film, reciting a poem of his own devising over the credits. It is titled "Desert Storm," and this is the haunting refrain: "I am the marine on the border of Kuwait." I cry sometimes. EJECT.

BIG SISTER 2000
Home Video Films LLC

William Smith does not recite verse in this "A Film by Maximo T. Bird"—he just harasses the comely Heather Baker. Of course, there is nothing remotely poetic about this sadistic women-in-prison film, and besides, the box says this murky mess was directed by Donald G. Jackson. I wouldn't claim credit, either. In somebody's concrete basement, Julie Strain is "the tyrannical interrogator who commands the dark forces of the future," and the women look as if they were run over by Courtney Love's tour bus—except the "big sister," who appears clumsily to cheer the ladies with helpful comments like, "Keep your faith and the light will shine on you." Lights weren't in the budget. Neither were costumes or makeup. This future's so nude, I've got to wear protection. EJECT.

THE DISAPPEARANCE OF KEVIN JOHNSON
Columbia Tristar
Slogan: In Hollywood, Sex Sells and Money Talks. Any Questions?

Dudley Moore returns to the screen! Playing "Dudley Moore," we see the pixieish funnyman tinkling the piano and reminiscing about the mysterious title character. Likewise, Pierce Brosnan and James Coburn gamely play along with this "A Francis Megahy Film," which is a fake "British documentary" about a Hollywood scandal involving call girls. There's already been a real British documentary about a real Hollywood scandal involving real call girls, which proved that reality is always more entertaining than the fiction Tinseltown cooks up. But the real documentary had Heidi Fleiss yammering on the phone, and this one has Kari Wuhrer lounging around a pool in a very flattering bathing suit. Perception? Reality? FREEZE-FRAME.

LEWIS & CLARK & GEORGE
BMG
Slogan: Two guys. A sexy girl. A stash of gold. Sounds like trouble.

Of course Paul Bartel is in this flick. The sad infatuation that the urban hipoisie have with poor white trash must stop. You just know that after thrifting all the can-you-believe-it set decorations, the filmmakers repaired to their SoHo loft to argue over which restaurant was truly of-the-moment and therefore deserving of their presence. Yeah, I'm talking to you, Mr. "A Film by Rod McCall," who substitutes easy, cynical attitude for comedy. Or maybe drama. It's hard to tell anymore. The Ben Vaughn soundtrack is nice, but the photo of Rose McGowan (George) on the box is the same one as on the cover of the excellent Henry Mancini tribute CD, Shots in the Dark. Confused, I turned to "Richard's Rose McGowan Page" on the World Wide Web: "Rose McGowan is one of the most talented young actresses in films today. Her acting seems to cut through any status-quo, pretentious tendencies that actors young and old tend to emulate. Because of her unique talent, Rose McGowan has been cast in many independant [sic] films." Well, that settles it, but Rose's taste in projects needs to become a bit more unique. EJECT.

WATCH THIS TAPE, WIN $10,000 INSTANTLY
98.7 WMZQ
Slogan: You May Already Have Won!

I'm in a select crowd! That's one message I got from this tape that arrived unexpectedly in my mailbox. Taking a break from freeze-framing Kari Wuhrer, I was also informed by the frightening DJ team of Murphy & Cash that country music is not "that twangy old stuff" (thank gosh!) and heard the creepy pair joyfully admit that "we don't actually choose the music" (thank gosh!). Tragically, I did not win $10,000 instantly, but this video proved invaluable nonetheless. Now when the soulless undead rise and walk the Earth, I will be able to recognize them—for I have seen Murphy & Cash. BULK-ERASE.

JUST SO YOU KNOW: From the liner notes to SHADOW DANCER (New Horizons. Slogan: Dancing Away With Murder): "At a Los Angeles strip club, provocative Narina is the undisputed star. But when Narina and her friend, Dee, are performing a daringly erotic routine, the lights go out and Dee is stabbed to death. All the evidence points to Narina, and Narina herself feels she may be guilty because of her own dark secret—she has killed before." I like that "daringly erotic routine" bit. Not enough to watch, though.

Next month: Sheentastic!

A BEACH TO FAR

2007-12-30T18:20:00.000-08:00

BEACH BABES 2: CAVE GIRL ISLAND
Cult Video
Slogan: Primitive Paradise

"This is a complete disaster!" roared my friend Pat, the noted cinéaste. "Haven't they ever heard of rubber monster heads?" No, inflatable breasts were more the order of the day in this flimsy tale about interstellar bimbos shipwrecked on an island brothel and forced to dance, dance, dance to some very bad stock music. In the old days, Pat explained, when exploitation was exploitation and breasts were breasts, "they would have had a couple of catfights, and feigned bondage, great monsters..." Pat's reverie was interrupted by some frank nudity. "That's a little on the raw side," he noted. "That's a little more than you usually see in one of these things." But times have changed, and "these things" now involve more "erotic" interludes than fake aliens. Another change was evident when director Ellen Cabot's credit finally rolled by. "There's the reason," Pat harumphed. "Look: produced by a woman, directed by a woman, line producer -- a woman. Probably a eunuch, the guy who wrote it," he snorted. While I tried to find some merit in the fetching blonde's saucy portrayal of a confused space being, Pat dismissed the entire endeavor: "A new low." Well, Pat has higher standards than I do. FREEZE-FRAME.

FACE THE EVIL
A-Pix

"Catfight!" I called out to Pat, who had repaired to his computer to troll the 'Net for nudes. "Let me get my glasses," he replied. But he never returned. A shame, because this Shannon Tweed vehicle features many of Pat's favorite cinematic staples: In addition to the rasslin' ladies, there's not one but two men on fire and -- surprise! -- crazy Nazis! And in the form of Lance Henriksen, who was born to embody pure evil, they don't get much crazier. While Lance works to unleash a flesh-eating biological weapon that has lain dormant since World War II, plucky Shannon is trying to heal some family wounds. "Where were you when I really needed a big sister?" demands the striking Jayne Hettmeyer, convincing as Shannon's little (in age only) sister. Everyone gets trapped in an art gallery, which means that paint brushes become weapons. How postmodern! But at the end of the day, Shannon can still pack a punch. Where was she when I needed a big sister? PLAY.

BLACK SPRING BREAK
Xenon Entertainment
Slogan: 24 Hours. 98 Degrees. 200,000 Black College Students.

"Beach be all covered wit' honeys." "They be gettin' they freak on." It would be easier to confirm the truth of these statements if the cameraman shooting the random footage of bikinis and biceps at the annual "Freaknik" in Daytona Beach, Fla., had been within at least walking distance of the boardwalk. As it is, the bulk of this film comprises telephoto shots of distant crowds. And of the same motel room filled with either the two guys or the two gals who are so desperate to hook up. (Hey, aren't you in the same room?) The story is nicely summed up in the line "Fuck the cars, whores, fame -- it's not about that." Well, maybe it should have been about that. Sadly, the great black spring break movie has yet to be made. If this is not quite as classic [sic] as Where the Boys Are, it is at least as good [sic] as Where the Boys Are, 1984. That really stank, and nobody got they freak on. EJECT.

LOS LOCOS: POSSE RIDES AGAIN
Polygram

The Academy of Motion Picture Arts and Sciences routinely rewards actors brave enough to portray drooling loonies. (Seven of the last 10 best actor, and three of the last 10 best actress, awards were for roles involving afflictions.) That being the case, this sequel to Posse is so loaded with nutballs that it should garner a hatful of Oscars, especially for René Auberjonois' sensitive portrayal of Dustin Hoffman's Rain Man. I would like to suggest some kind of award to writer/producer/star Mario Van Peebles for spending the first 15 minutes wearing only tar and feathers. Ouch. This being "A Film by Jean-Marc Vallée," it is a very European western -- not much shoot-'em-up, but lots of yaketa-yaketa and extreme emoting. A kind of King of Hearts meets The Magnificent Seven at Cuckoo's Nest. But a western it is, and the sight and sound of horsemen thundering over a distant hill remain exciting. PAUSE.

BLEEDING VEGAS
Division X FILMS
Slogan: Some Places You Can Get Anything You Want...Except the Truth.

"I make films nobody sees," says Bill Henderson, playing a director in this "A Bill Henderson Film," directed by Bill Henderson. Because, explains Bill Henderson, "everybody likes happy endings. That's not life that I know." I can live without happy endings, but I really like endings that make some kind of sense. This film doesn't end. It stops. Before it does we get to watch David Carradine mistreat women in between a lot of second-unit footage of Las Vegas neon. I predict nobody will see this film. EJECT.

SPACEJACKED
New Horizons
Slogan: The Cruise of the Millennium Just Changed Course.

Corbin Bernsen has now dragged wife Amanda Pays into his direct-to-video career hell. Interestingly, they never share a scene together. Lord, first Bruce and Demi, now this! On a luxury "starcruise to the Moon," the guests may partake of virtual reality pills, which provide the only scenes away from the exceptionally low-budget sets. When Corbin attempts to commandeer the ship and rob the passengers, the captain shouts, "Step away from the laptop," the portable computer apparently controlling the entire spaceship. The heist stalls, leaving us time to hear all the stories of the surviving passengers. Hollywood, we have a problem. EJECT.

THE MIKE DOUGLAS SHOW WITH JOHN LENNON & YOKO ONO
Rhino
Slogan: Five Days That Changed the Course of Television

The slogan is blatantly false, but when the squarest man in America, Mike Douglas, booked the hippest, John Lennon, to co-host his tepid afternoon talk show for a week in February 1972, it was certainly unexpected. The Generation Gap was still being fully enforced, on both sides, when Douglas called a video détente. In these ironic (post-ironic?) times, when the president of the United States plays saxophone with a talk-show band and discusses his underwear on MTV, there is no parallel to be drawn, no analogy to convey how surreal this week of must-be-seen-to-be-believed TV was at the time. It was a head-scratcher then; it is a head-scratcher now. So Lennon jams with his idol Chuck Berry on "Johnny B. Goode," and Mike sings "I Whistle a Happy Tune" and smiles like an indulgent uncle as Yoko promotes macrobiotics to the Swanson-TV-dinner crowd. Rhino has released all five shows. Buy them, watch them, and then explain them to me. PLAY.

POSTMORTEM
Sterling Home Entertainment
Slogan: The Only Way to Trap a Serial Killer is to Know What He Feels, What He Thinks, and When He'll Strike Again.

"I understand if you're famous in California, you can get away with murder," says a Scottish cop to "Charles" Sheen, star of this "An Albert Pyun Film." Murder yes, public buffoonery, no. Maybe this film set Charlie off. Maybe he couldn't get out of character -- a surly, scowling character who is very hard to sympathize with, always drinking and taking pills. "What a bad example he's setting for all America," said my friend Patty. "He looks bad. And he's all in blue." Yes, the color scheme is morose, but then Charlie must get into the mind of a serial killer, who in the end doesn't have much of a mind. But there are also the pleasant greens of Scotland to look at, and everyone but Charlie speaks with those cute accents. Charlie mumbles. "It should be noted," noted Patty, "that this was a movie that was not fast-forwarded." PAUSE.

COURTING COURTNEY
Toasted Films
Slogan: Being a Single Woman in the Nineties Is One Thing. Being a Single Woman in Her Thirties Is Another...

The box proclaims this to be "A Paul Tarantino Film," perhaps in hopes that people will gloss over the first name in a rush for some quirky, trash-talking, bravura filmmaking. They will get instead a faux documentary on "the dilemma of single women in the '90s" with a bunch of second-tier comedians (Dana Gould, Taylor Negron, Kathy Griffin, Ryan Stiles, Chris Hardwick, Julia Sweeney) riffing loosely on relationships. "Dave, this is another really bad movie," Patty said sternly, grabbing the remote. I would have kept watching, really. But, well, she was right. EJECT.

THIS WORLD, THEN THE FIREWORKS
Orion
Slogan: Marty and Carol Are Two People Who Are Very Good at Being Very Bad.

And so we put on this "A Michael Oblowitz Film" starring Billy Zane, Gina Gershon, and Twin Peak's Laura Palmer, Sheryl Lee. And it started promisingly: snazzy credits, spiffy '50s noir design, cool-jazz soundtrack. But it's based on a Jim Thompson story, which means that ugly stuff happens and we are left to root for no one. Except, surprisingly, for Rue McClanahan. "She's a talented actress, when she's quiet," Patty said. Yes, but she became loud; everyone became loud. As if they forgot there was a story and started going through acting exercises for an audition in Hell. "What time is it?" asked Patty, when the movie finally ended. "I'm really tired. This is really hard work." Hey, her work was done; she could go home. I had to decipher my notes. I can just make out this: EJECT.

Next month: You know, for kids.

THE CHILDREN'S HOUR

2007-12-30T18:18:00.000-08:00

3 NINJAS: HIGH NOON AT MEGA MOUNTAIN
Columbia Tristar
Slogan: Saving the Day the Ninja Way

"This is my movie!" exclaimed young Rashad, grabbing the video box from the teetering pile. The eager lad had seen all of the previous 3 Ninjas escapades and excitedly recounted their wacky misadventures. Now that Hulk Hogan has joined the series, bringing along Loni Anderson in dominatrix garb and Jim Varney, unfortunately not in Ernest garb, it seemed like the fourth time would be charming. And so we were soon joined by Rashad's younger sisters, Kiya and Sharte, and settled in for an evening of rollicking preteen action. (Must I add "onscreen"? Honestly, people.) Admittedly, we got a late start, which probably explains why the children fell asleep long before the movie ended. But before they did, they correctly foretold how the trio would defeat the bad guys (using the scientific know-how of a girl, no less! Imagine). Truly, this film is child's play. PAUSE.

THE SHRUNKEN CITY
Pulsepounders
Slogan: Two Young Heroes...One Small Town

Big Hollywood studios don't know how to make comic-book movies. They pour in money for effects that are too real, effects based on the cynical outlook of disaffected 30-something tech-heads, rather than the wide-eyed imaginings of 10-year-olds. Worse, they try to force meaning into the stories. Please. But Charles Band knows comic books. His Full Moon Studios (of which Pulsepounders is a subsidiary) has been cranking out comic-inspired series for years. So if Superman has a bottle city of Kandor, Band gives us the bottle city of Shandar, and effects that are just believable enough, and design and acting commensurate with the two-dimensional drawings that inspired them. Bravo. PLAY.

KRAA! THE SEA MONSTER
Pulsepounders
Slogan: Big Alien...Bad Attitude

Another effort from the mind of Charles Band, this is Godzilla as it should be: no computers, no product tie-ins, just a guy in a rubber suit crushing miniature buildings. Kraa! is so low-tech, you suspect the script was written with colored pencils. "I'll watch it," said Rashad, "but I don't think it's gonna be any good." Rashad is a very perceptive kid. Even the original Godzilla was pretty stupid. EJECT.

A VERY UNLUCKY LEPRECHAUN
New Horizons
Slogan: Luck Can Change in the Twinkle of an Eye.

Warwick Davis usually plays the evil leprechaun in the Leprechaun series. Here he cavorts as a merely mischievous little person, though unlike the horror films, this was actually filmed in Ireland. The script has all the sensitivity of a Lucky Charms commercial, but little of the mystery and wonder the subject requires, as in the definitive leprechaun film, Darby O'Gill & the Little People. Of course, that has Sean Connery singing. At least Unlucky co-star Tim Matheson doesn't sing. For the very, very young: PAUSE.

INVISIBLE DAD
A-Pix
Slogan: Now You See Him...Now You Don't

I put this in just to see if the effects were as transparent as they are in Invisible Mom. They are, but this time the story and acting are visibly worse, despite the impressive credit, "And Karen Black." Mom producer Andrew Stevens and director Fred Olen Ray return, but this time without writer W.C. Martell, obviously the key to the original's success. Word via the Net from Count Gore De Vol is that work is already under way on Invisible Mom II. We'll see. EJECT.

GIRLS IN PRISON
Dimension
Slogan: They Were Rebels Without a Clue!

After so much wholesome family viewing, it was time for more mature fare. For me and my friend Patty, that means catfight, catfight, catfight! And if you add Ione Skye in some nude interracial lesbo action, you have the makings of the perfect motion picture. OK, not perfect by a long stretch, but this John McNaughton-directed homage features lovely, if low-budget, '50s design and a passel of handsome hard-smoking dames. As the controversial Anne Heche strutted her perky breasts brazenly through the shower, Patty was moved to ask, "You wonder -- did Ellen see this? Is this in her video collection?" It's in mine. FREEZE-FRAME.

MAGENTA
Moonlight Entertainment
Slogan: Beauty Made Her Irresistible. Youth Made Her Forbidden.

"You're scum, that's what you are," says a character in this "A Gregory C. Hines Film." True. What begins as a mere rip-off of Lolita ends in ugly psychodrama as all the scumballs get what they deserve and what no one deserves to watch. The credits proudly declare "And introducing Crystal Atkins as Magenta," but this is not a name to remember. The vaguely humanoid creature can barely speak, barely move her mouth -- an important skill in an erotic thriller, neither of which this is. EJECT.

FRENCH EXIT
Columbia/Tristar
Slogan: Even in Hollywood, Falling in Love Is the Luckiest Break of All.

I've been had. This thing was made in 1995. While it's nice to see Timothy Leary back from the dead, I'm not surprised that director Daphna Kastner's tale of star-crossed screenwriters (Jonathan Silverman and Madchen Amick) sat on the shelf so long. But 'twas not all fruitless viewing. For the film's best performance is by the fiery redhead Molly Hagen, whom I immediately pledged to make mine. After some preliminary cyber-stalking, I located a few small images at hard-to-find-actresses.com (really!) and discovered that all the old reviews agree: Exit is not terrible, but not terribly exciting or insightful. And all agree that Molly is faboo. Back off, geeks! FREEZE-FRAME.

THE LEADING MAN
BMG

This "A John Duigan Film" begins with ex-rocker Jon Bon Jovi walking through London to the Talking Heads song "Burning Down the House." What might be a sarcastic comment on the former hair-band singer is actually foreshadowing, and the film settles into a love quadrangle among flighty theater folk. We should all be happy that Mr. Bongiovi is forsaking music for the cinema, for which his sulky, shirtless charms are better suited. He holds his own with such English eminences as Barry Humphries, and everyone is so charmingly wicked you want to forget that there are children being hurt by all the cheating. If they didn't keep showing the tearful tykes, you could. PAUSE.

HOMEGROWN
Columbia/Tristar
Slogan: Millionaires Today. Fugitives Tomorrow. Buds Forever.

Jon Bon Jovi is also in this funny-but-not-exactly-a-comedy film about pot farmers, as are Jamie Lee Curtis, Hank Azaria, Billy Bob Thornton, Judge Reinhold, and Ted Danson, with music by Yes-man Trevor Rabin. But the most enlightened casting is that of Leigh French. Though unrecognizable and with barely one line, her minuscule appearance shows that the filmmakers were on the ball -- French first gained notoriety on the late-'60s Smothers Brothers Comedy Hour, playing a stoned hippie in a continuing segment called "Have a Little Tea with Goldie." At the time, it was an inside wink to the potheads in the audience. ("Tea," geddit?) It was years before I got the joke; I just thought French was kinda cute, but really dumb. The really dumb execs finally caught on and canceled the show. Thirty years later, after bravely releasing the pot-centric Half-Baked, studios have again decided that marijuana is nothing to joke about, and Tristar sent this right to video. PAUSE.

THE AVENGERS
A&E Home Video
Slogan: The Original British Cult Classic

"The Avengers has been very good to me," Patrick Macnee says from the comfort of his Rancho Mirage, Calif., home. While the digitally remastered re-release of his excellent TV series is a bit removed from the purview of this column, when the opportunity arises to speak with John Steed, one leaps. One also leaps at the opportunity to take another swipe at the ludicrous big-screen Avengers remake. Based on a reading of the movie novelization, my suspicions are confirmed -- the sadly miscast Uma Thurman-Ralph Fiennes version will stink on ice. Thus these tapes from the first season the series ran in color are well-timed. When queried about earlier episodes, Macnee replies, "I wish they'd colorize those 26 black-and-whites I did with Di Rigg, because they were sooo good. The A&E people were shocked when I said it." As most right-thinking people should be. But we'll forgive Macnee, who lives partly on the show's residuals. "I don't think they'll sell in black and white," he argues. Maybe, maybe not; but even he admits, "They're awfully good, aren't they? Those black-and-white ones, in my opinion, are the best." Mr. Macnee's opinion is absolutely correct. But full-color Emma Peel is also worth every penny. PLAY.

Next month: Martell it like it is!

THE NAME GAME

2007-12-30T18:11:00.001-08:00

BLACK THUNDER
New Horizons
Slogan: The World's Most Powerful Jet Fighter Is in Enemy Hands. Only One Man Can Steal It Back.

It's been said that no one sets out to make a bad film. Or do they? This Tom Clancy-style thriller about a stolen Stealth plane was written by ace scribe William C. Martell. Martell has had 17 scripts produced and has just published The Secrets of Action Screenwriting: From Popeye Points to Rug Pulls, a collection of wise and witty advice for creating quality movies about stuff that blows up. (Full disclosure: The author quotes my review of one of his films on the jacket. This qualifies me for a free copy. Thanks, Bill!) While the thoughtful Martell sets out with quality, even wit, in mind, he does, after all, work in the direct-to-video market. It's a brutal combination, because Thunder is ultimately "A Rick Jacobson Film." Posting in the Screenwriting Forum on Compuserve, Martell wrote about "Losing the Good Fight" in the making of Black Thunder:

One element in the...script I fought like hell to keep were the Exotica[-style] reveals. I told the director [that] keeping this element was the single most important thing to me....Everything else I would change if I could keep that. It was in the final script, but isn't in the film.

When the hero [pudgeball Michael Dudikoff] is introduced, he has a photo of himself and his mentor [amiable Aussie Richard Norton]. The sidekick is the hero's rival, and there's some backstory between them, but it isn't revealed...until the sidekick is captured, and we see that he has a photo of himself and the mentor. Now we know that hero and sidekick were fighting for the approval of the same father-figure [who has -- a-ha! -- turned to the dark side].

By the end of the film, the hero and sidekick have learned to work together, and we see...the photo: hero on one side of the mentor, sidekick on the other. The hero and sidekick carry the SAME PHOTO, just cropped differently. Now we know that the hero and sidekick used to be like BROTHERS. The idea was to create a backstory mystery and solve it in the LAST SHOT OF THE FILM! To leave the audience with this big emotional punchline at the end of the film...the key that explains all of the relationships -- revealing [Black Thunder] to be the Stealth-fighter-plane version of East Of Eden.

So while Martell was guided by visions of Elia Kazan and John Steinbeck, others were more self-involved. For instance, Martell wrote a revealing character line wherein the hero mockingly calls the sidekick a "skydiver" (because he bails at the first sign of trouble). When, in Martell's script, the sidekick screws up and gets caught, the evil Arab villains ask where his plane is. He responds: "Don't have one. I'm just a skydiver." "REALIZING," Martell writes emphatically, "he's a screw-up. ADMITTING it to himself. (It's the first step in this character taking responsibility.) The line's in the film, but the emphasis is on the wrong words." True -- the oafish actor thinks the line is a boast. "Plus," moans Martell, "the director has staged the scene so that the sidekick DIDN'T screw up, just gets caught."

For these crimes against writers, and because they used the same explosion scene twice, we say, verily, EJECT.

SUB DOWN
Trimark
Slogan: Take the Dive

But directors don't always get their way, either, proof being that this is one of those rare and delightful "Alan Smithee" films. That's the credit applied when a director removes his name from a movie. Why this tale of undersea disaster sparked such drastic measures is a mystery. The direction is not embarrassing. There are lovely vistas of icebergs -- from above and below. The stars are credible enough -- Tom Conti, Gabrielle Anwar, Chris Mulkey, and one of those Baldwins. Maybe "Smithee" didn't like the script, which spends more time discussing Edmund Lutwak's economic philosophy than do most underwater adventures. Then there's the fact that the hippie iconoclast single-handedly saves the day while a sub full of trained, competent military men sit around and...wait. Maybe "Alan" objected to the closing power ballad, "Let Your Mama Show You Around." Whatever that means. All Alan Smithee films earn my highest praise: PLAY.

HOT BLOODED
MTI Video
Slogan: She's Tough, Sexy, and Out of Control

Actors may take their names off a film, but their breasts remain. The box, the ads, and my photographic memory of her perky curvaceousness from previous DTV efforts all say that Kari Wuhrer is in this film. The opening credits read "Kari Salin." If the ex-videotrix was unhappy playing a toe-sucking, whip-cracking whore, she might have raised objections while reading the script. Maybe she balked after filming scenes with a shirtless Burt Young (he's in surprisingly good shape, but still...). And while her impressive body does much of the storytelling, Kari's never fully exposed and gets lines like, "You're not going to pout all day for being an accessory to murder, are you?" Maybe she was upset that this is "A Film
by David Blyth." FREEZE-FRAME.

ANNA NICOLE SMITH: EXPOSED
Fantasy Home Video
Slogan: Her Fantasies Revealed

"Oh, yeah," said my friend Pat, the noted cinéaste, adding "Oooh, yeahhh." The object of his appreciation was Anna Nicole Smith, about whose ridiculously bovine charms we disagree. We were taking a break from moving Pat into his swinging new bachelor pad (sunken living room!) to watch the grieving widow work through the sadness caused by the surprising death of her nonagenarian millionaire husband. The plucky gal has found an interesting manner for channeling her sorrow. "Every morning I masturbate," she says into the camera. After, apparently, calling in the film crew. Make that video crew, for Exposed is shot with unflattering videotape rather than film. But even the softest of soft-focus can't hide Anna's enormous tattoos and the bruise on her bosom. "Total biker-bar mentality," snorted Pat with disgust when the desecration became apparent. Others helping Anna "explore erotica" also sported curious welts on their bodies. Pat was so dispirited by the tawdry images that he turned and passed me the remote control. "I'm going to give you the power to fast-forward -- something I rarely do, especially when she's involved," he said, his sad resignation almost too painful to witness. FREEZE-FRAME.

ELVIS MEETS NIXON
Avalanche
Slogan: Truth Is Funnier Than Fiction!

When the cast includes Dick Cavett, Edwin Newman, Graham Nash, Tony Curtis, and Watergate co-conspirator Alexander Butterfield, who gets top billing? Or bottom billing, for that matter. Part re-enactment, part docu-drama, part insanity, this docu-enactment draws an interesting parallel between Elvis and Nixon and the Beatles and Kennedy. E and N are both Capricorns, for one thing. Padded to 103 minutes, the film demands admiration for the nerve of this line: "If it didn't happen exactly as you're about to see -- it should have." PAUSE.

RUNNING WOMAN
New Horizons
Slogan: Finding the Truth Can Be a Race Against Time.

"She looks pretty good for her age," said my friend Bill, the noted glamour photographer, about star Theresa Russell, a favorite of ours (and not only because of her liberal nudity policy). "But," he added, "she's definitely turned a corner." That she has, and so the shower scene was perfunctory and chaste. But Terry has serious work to do here as she fights -- and runs -- to clear her name after being framed for the death of her son. It should also be noted that Ms. Russell is several years younger than both Bill and I. And neither of us would win any Burt Young Shirtless Competitions. PAUSE.

YOU'RE ON YOUR OWN: Every month, more tapes come in to the elegantly appointed Videocrity offices than can ever be viewed in full. Or should be. Therefore, I have enlisted the help of my new top assistant, Linda Collins (not her real name) of Bethesda, Md. (not her real address), to wade through the morass. The following films have been judged based exclusively on box art, liner notes, and a quick scan of the trailer that is included on most screening copies. In other words, this column is leaving you even more adrift on the video seas than usual. You're welcome.

LAST BREATH
A-Pix
Slogan: He Left Her Breathless.

Luke Perry's girlfriend needs an organ donated, so Luke gets a new girlfriend to use for parts. The process apparently involves hitting F3.

SERIAL BOMBER
A-Pix
Slogan: He's at War With a City.

"If your customers like The Devil's Own, Blown Away, and Face/Off, they'll be blown away by this fast-paced action thriller." Looks very fast-paced to me. And once again, Lori Petty looks really stressed.

LIVING IN PERIL
New Line
Slogan: Trapped in a Deadly Game, He Has Only Two Choices...Play...or Die.

Rob Lowe covered with rats. Gotta love it. James Belushi smoking cigars. Gotta not love it.

THE KILLING GROUNDS
A-Pix
Slogan: Cold Blooded Murder

"If your customers liked The Edge and The River Wild, then The Killing Grounds is one movie you don't want to miss!" Unless you want to miss Anthony Michael Hall and Charles Rocket. Charles has somehow turned himself into the action-figure version of Steve Austin -- vaguely humanoid, but far short of being a six-million-dollar man. For reports on the many good works that Mr. Hall is doing for people unfortunate enough not to be movie stars, you may go to hallofmirrors.com. Keep plenty of Pepto-Bismol close by.

WATCHERS: REBORN
New Horizons
Slogan: Driven by Instinct...Destined for Murder.

"He is psychically linked to the outsider." "He" is a dog. The outsider is a killer Wookie. The dog's partner is Mark Hamill, a long, long time and far, far away from young Luke.

FEMALIEN 2: THE SEARCH FOR KARA
Surrender Cinema

"After completing her erotic assignment on Earth exploring human pleasure, the beautiful alien Kara has decided to stay a while. Unfortunately, she didn't clear her extended trip with the home planet. Two more 'Femaliens' have been dispatched to bring Kara back, but they are about to do a little 'exploring' of their own. They're hot on Kara's tail, but the two gorgeous space trackers have found a much more stimulating mission along the way!" Starring Summer Leeds and Debra Summers.

Next month: Hamfest '98!

NO RESPECT

2007-12-30T18:09:00.000-08:00

THE GODSON
Sterling
Slogan: Some Wise Guys Aren't So Smart.

Why are they still making parodies of The Godfather? Because Dom DeLuise can't stop doing his mumbly Brando impression? Here the portly cookbook author plays the "Oddfather" to Rodney Dangerfield's "Rodfather," which is as insightful as the satire gets. But this is a Kevin McDonald vehicle. Perhaps the most interesting member of the Kids in the Hall troupe, McDonald has seen his pals go on to legitimate careers while he must share the screen with Lou Ferrigno. And Joey Buttafuoco (wildly overplaying the role of "Joey Buttafuoco"). And a duck. Oh, I wanted to like this movie. I mean, Rodney! Dom! A duck! Yes, I did laugh a few times at McDonald's plucky desperation. But as my special friend "J" observed, "It's just random." Here's a random act of kindness: EJECT.

LAND OF THE FREE
PM Entertainment
Slogan: One Nation, Under God, Under Fire, Under Siege

"I think we need to analyze the semiotics of this thing," suggested my pseudonymous friend "Lucy." "Between the four of us we should be able to understand this." True, we were stumped. I mean, when you have William Shatner as a politician-slash-leader-of-a-murderous-right-wing-terrorist-organization (could happen), why spend so much time blowing up cars? And buses? Just let the man act, dammit! Yes, there is a fight scene right out of the Star Trek episode "Arena," but mostly we are forced to watch beefy galoot Jeff Speakman run around looking, I guess, concerned. "This guy doesn't know how to be an action hero," said my pseudonymous friend "Lucy." But later she noted, "He's finally had the sense to kill people. This whole movie, he's just been beating up people and throwing them." "This is too much plot to deal with," said my lawyer friend Jeff. We finally had to rewind to solve the mystery of the "unexplained lovers." "I guess I was looking for a taut political thriller," sighed my lawyer friend Jeff. Look elsewhere. EJECT.

TERMINAL JUSTICE: CYBERTECH P.D.
Artisan
Slogan: The Name of the Game Is Danger.

This "A Rick King Film" is set in the distant future of 2002, a future where, noted my lawyer friend Jeff, "all advances have been in the realm of vice." Indeed, there are pheromone-seeking toy helicopters, and evil businessman Chris Sarandon has a plan to clone sex slaves. ("Who'd want to stop him?" asked my lawyer friend Jeff.) The technique involves "chromosplicing." The big name and face on the box belong to Lorenzo Lamas, and serious thesps Sarandon and Peter Coyote are here, but the surprise attraction is Kari Salin, née Wuhrer (for more on the ex-videotrix's name games, see this site). Kari is the No. 1 virtual-reality sex star ("I happen to be damn proud of my body," she says, convincingly), who gets involved with semi-bionic cop Lamas for no reason other than he looks like Fabio. The cybertech elements are equally interesting and stupid. Make that interestingly stupid. OK, they're stupid. "So are we gonna get to, you know, see anything?" asked my lawyer friend Jeff at the outset. Well, a bit. But later Jeff complained, "I wasn't sure whose butt I was looking at." A serious flaw; still, my pseudonymous friend "Lucy" was heard to say, "This is a good movie." Sure, why not? PLAY.

HOUSE OF PANCAKES
E.I. Independent

"This is arty," said my pseudonymous friend "Lucy." Yes, it is in black and white. And the sound is nearly inaudible. Pancakes is the "film debut" of writer-director Onur Tukel, whose prior credit was "storyboard artist" on This World, Then the Fireworks, reviewed harshly in these pages some time ago. Although the box promised "a hilarious Gex X [sic] spin on the classic screw-ball [sic] comedy," the reality proved strained and amateurish. Tukel should not abandon his pencils just yet. EJECT.

STAR PORTAL
New Horizons
Slogan: Cross Over...

And so my pseudonymous friend "Lucy" and I switched to this Roger Corman-produced effort about Quad-rena, a bug being from space who comes to Earth to save her planet from three-eyed chrome-domes who wear all white. Naturally, Quad-rena assumes the full-figured form of Athena Massey. "You're right, this is a much better movie," said "Lucy," adding, "Wow—so much action before they even have the titles!" Part of that action involves rays shooting out of Quad-rena's eyes and frying people, always a welcome plot device. And, when contacting her home planet, Quad-rena speaks only in rhyme. But when she meets human doctor Steven Bauer she says things like, "I overtook her body, but now she possesses me." I'll let "Lucy," who rarely ventures into the DTV oeuvre, continue the summary: "She's got a short fuse!" "Oh-oh, she's having a human moment." "Whoa—she's killing people left and right!" "She looks good in these gypsy outfits." "What's going on? I can't understand it." Don't worry—it's all explained in "Quad-rena's Song" at the end credits. PLAY.

EDEN
BMG
Slogan: Let Your Spirits Soar.

The film opens quoting a poem by Rainer Maria Rilke. There is a Windham Hill CD offer for retailers. In a very WASP-y 1965 New England, a woman is imprisoned by convention, her loving husband who just doesn't get it, and metal leg braces due to MS. Enter a sensitive, Bob Dylan-quoting young student. In other words, even though this is "A Film by Howard Goldberg," it's one serious chick flick. The women sigh and cry. The men cry, too. "When I was 27, I left my body for the first time," goes the first line of the movie. Brew some General Foods International Coffee (Suisse Mocha, perhaps?), send the men away, and astral-project to your heart's content. PAUSE.

THE BAD PACK
Avalanche
Slogan: Bad to the Bone

No astral projecting here! The cover to this video is exactly the same as the poster for Con Air, except the A-list actors' faces have been replaced with the faces of Robert Davi, Roddy Piper, and the guy from The Viking Sagas. But the Con Air-style art has no relation to the story. So this is not a Con Air rip-off. It is an "homage" to The Magnificent Seven, The Dirty Dozen, The Wild Bunch, and any other handful-of-sturdy-men-against-unforgivable-odds movies. In this case, mysterious mercenary Davi and his buddies take on a right-wing militia terrorizing a Mexican border town. Davi, so excellent in Die Hard and License to Kill, has been pumping some iron. "He's, like, a real actor," noted my professional actor friend Paul. "What's he doing in this shitty stuff?" Acting like a martial artist, blowing up things, looking bad to the bone, picking up a paycheck. And because they didn't give Roddy enough to do, I say, EJECT.

ABERRATION
Artisan
Slogan: Natural Selection Is a Killer.

Has it been 10 years since Pamela Gidley's bravura turn as the title character in the unjustly neglected classic Cherry 2000? We expected (hoped) for more from the saucy blonde. Much more. Tragically, Pamela has only been seen in strange bit parts and downbeat roles. Now she returns in "A Tim Boxell Film," and while there are hints of the old spark, Ms. Gidley is ill-served by Boxell and his cheap, red-herring style of storytelling. Between stalking POV shots ripped from Evil Dead, we learn that "Something's messing with the natural order." Which is all that explains the menace: super-evolving killer geckos. Yes, the "soft-skinned, insect-eating lizards with a short, stout body, a large head, weak limbs, and suction pads on their feet." And what the heck they're doing in the snowy, wooded mountains must be inferred from the line "Goddamn gene-splicers!" (Chromosplicers?) The lizard-killing effects are particularly gruesome, and while there is a man on fire, let's hope this is an aberration in Pamela's career. EJECT.

Next month: Like Father, Like Son

BAD REPUTATION

2007-12-30T18:06:00.000-08:00

INDISCREET
Columbia/Tristar
Slogan: Blinded by Love. Blinded by Greed. Blind to the Truth.

"I'm just going to finish Miss Manners' column and then we can start," my special friend "J" informed me. I waited patiently because I already felt guilty enough about dragging such a nice gal into my private video hell -- especially with the promise of a Luke Perry vehicle. My guilt deepened as soon as the tiny TV star appeared. "He's got the scruffy look," said "J," unenthused. "I don't like the mustache." As gumshoe Luke began snapping nude photos of a supposedly unfaithful wife (ER's Gloria Reuben), "J" began caustically dissecting the story: "She signed a pre-nup that she would get nothing -- that happens." "Oh, boy -- stop with the private-eye music!" When I thought I had figured out the surprise ending, "J" brightened. "You're so smart," she said, then added, "for being one step ahead of plot development in a Luke Perry movie." Would Miss Manners make such a comment? But when my far superior ending proved to be only a red herring, "J" rose to my defense. "This is cheating!" she shouted at the TV, with more excitement than seemed necessary. But it was when she deemed Indiscreet "definitely watchable," that I realized I had ruined another good woman. PAUSE.

CATHERINE'S GROVE
PM Entertainment
Slogan: Where Is Catherine Mason? People Are Dying to Know.

Having survived Luke Perry, I decided to push the envelope with "A Rick King Film" starring Michael Madsen and Jeff Fahey. Sheesh, it starts with a shower scene. Then goes to a transvestite bar. Someone is killing transvestites and crooked cop Fahey investigates, with help from Maria Conchita Alonso. "That hair," chortled my special friend "J." "It's so outdated. What's the deal?" When Madsen appeared, "J" had him pegged: "Look at that smile -- he's a psycho thug if I ever saw one." I didn't want to ask if she had ever seen one, but she certainly was catching on quick to the whole videocrity thing. In fact, this time, "J" figured out the surprise ending. But there was an awfully long wait before an explanatory flashback confirmed it. By which time, "J" had turned back to the Sunday paper. EJECT.

SINK OR SWIM
Sterling
Slogan: 6 Friends, 1 Job....You Do the Math.

"This is the handsome Tom Arnold," said my friend the editor, who is himself a friend of Mr. Arnold's and thus has some perspective on the fidgety film star's various looks. But it's true. Mr. Arnold is sharp and assured in this extremely inside account of Hollywood desperation. As Illeana Douglas, Stephen Rea, Dave Foley, John Ritter, Jason Priestley, and Ryan O'Neal tossed off endless trade talk and obscure Tinseltown references, my friend the editor asked, "How much deeper inside can you go?" Not much. In fact, Sink plays like an encounter session at the Writers Guild of America West with a bunch of bitter, frustrated screenwriters. Having just sent a script for the perfect Tom Arnold vehicle off to Hollywood -- and having not received a response -- I found this film utterly fascinating. And so very true. Bravo, Tom -- lookin' good! PLAY.

BOOGIE BOY
Sterling
Slogan: Cross the Line....Pay the Price.

"Is there a drummer in the house?" asks Joan Jett, playing Jerk, a tough-talking singer in a biker-bar band whose skin-pounder has just OD'd. In fact, there is -- martial artist Mark Dacascos, one day out of prison and back hanging with his male prostitute/junkie buddy. Mark sits in, attacking the drums like he was kung fu fighting. "You play hard," says Joan. "It's the only way I know how," says Mark. "It's a rush, ain't it?" says Joan. "As long as I'm rockin', I'm livin'," she says. So true. And you know, this same scenario happened to me once. Except no one OD'd, it wasn't a biker bar, I wasn't fresh out of prison, and it was Tommy Smothers I sat in with. Not as much of a rush, perhaps. Anyway, Dacascos decides to pull one last job with his homo/junkie/prison pal so he can buy drums and join Joan's band. The heist goes bad. Real bad. So bad that we don't see any more of Joan. Or Traci Lords, for heaven's sake. She plays a direct-to-video actress. "My movies are a lot cooler than some B-money action star vehicle," she says. Listen to Traci, writer/director Craig Hamann. More Joan Jett/Traci Lords vehicles, less grimy Pulp Fiction knock-offs. PAUSE.

PHOENIX
Trimark
Slogan: In This Town, the Heat Can Kill You.

Everyone's on the take in this "A Danny Cannon Film," but crooked cop Ray Liotta is less of a scumbag than Anthony LaPaglia, Anjelica Huston, Jeremy Piven, one of the Baldwins, Tom Noonan, and the ever-present Kari Salin-Wuhrer. Still, he's pushed to pull a heist to cover his gambling debts. The heist goes bad. Real bad. Why are movies more concerned with the supposed "honor" among thieves and less interested in the efforts of regular folk to live honest lives? Maybe because Kari won't appear topless in those films? Sorry I asked. PAUSE.

A LETTER FROM DEATH ROW
Showcase
Slogan: There Is No Lie More Terrifying Than the Truth

"A good writer can make the mind imagine," says the narrator of this "A True Psycho Thriller." "A great writer can make the mind believe." And a heavy metal singer can write, co-direct, and star in "A Bret Michaels Creation." That is, if he is Bret Michaels, lead singer with '80s hair band Poison. But can he make us believe? Bret certainly tries. He struts his ultra-buff bod in shirtless glory. He cries. He emotes with a dream-sequence dwarf. There's a "Special Appearance" by Charlie Sheen that comprises one close-up and four lines. And a nothing-special appearance by Martin Sheen for one scene. "None of us are innocent!" shouts Bret. "None of us! Every one of us has our snapping point!" This, I fear, is my snapping point. Believe it. EJECT.

TRAILER TRASHIN' -- YOU'RE ON YOUR OWN Once again, the pile reached dangerous heights, so I invited my award-winning filmmaker friend Brad over to help wade through the many, many videos that I don't quite have time to watch in their entirety. I mean, I'm at least three Rutger Hauer films behind. The following comments are based on box art, liner notes, and a quick scan of the trailer. Oh, we did take a short break to check out the cheerleader competitions on ESPN and then play a bit of the Kevin Bacon game. Other than that, these tapes got our full attention.

FALLING FIRE
New Horizons Home Video
Slogan: A Lone Fighter. A Furious Asteroid: One Will Claim the Planet as Its Own.

"They actually had a decent piece of hardware floating around there," said my award-winning filmmaker friend Brad, who specializes in creating fake flying-saucer footage on his home computer. Yes, the spaceships and effects look very good. Even Michael Paré looks good. I didn't see any of the asteroid/comet/danger-from-space movies this summer. But I might actually watch this.

CRAZY SIX
Sterling
Slogan: He's the Sixth One in His Family. And He's a Little Bit Crazy.

"Urban action at its best!" says the box. For some reason, Rob Lowe (with a scruffy Joe Namath-Fu Manchu mustache), Ice-T, Mario Van Peebles, and Burt Reynolds (in a cowboy hat) have found their way to one of those formerly communist Eastern European countries that are falling apart and are involved in some pretty stylish-looking urban action. I love urban action when it's at its best, and this does look very good. I may actually watch this.

TOP OF THE WORLD
Trimark
Slogan: Surviving Is Against All Odds.

Dennis Hopper says the name of the film twice in the trailer. Excellent! Helicopters are exploding; Peter Weller, Peter Coyote, and the lovely Tia Carrere are fighting on trains, in Vegas casinos, all over the Hoover Dam. I may actually watch this.

NAKED LIES
Columbia/Tristar
Slogan: Shannon Tweed Has an Offer You Can't Refuse.

"Shannon Tweed -- isn't she like really old?" asked my friend Brad, who creates fake flying saucers on his home computer. Then he tried to tell me that the picture of the erotic thriller queen on the box was a PhotoShop fake. While it's hard to say what's fake and what isn't with Ms. Tweed, I still maintain that she's the real deal. And in this "A Ralph Portillo Film," the very gracefully aging actress plays "an undercover agent sent on a covert operation in Mexico [where] she uses all her weapons including her brains and body against a playboy counterfeiter and his sadistic henchman." Co-starring Steven Bauer. My friend Sean says, "Yes! Watch this!"

PLATO'S RUN
Live
Slogan: Sometimes You Have to Take the Law into Your Own Hands.

Neither the copy on the box nor the trailer for this Gary Busey vehicle made much sense, except that there's a "murderous web of assassination and deceit" and hints of a possible Roy Scheider love scene. Co-starring Steven Bauer. I may not watch this.

STRAY BULLET
New Horizons
Slogan: Don't Fall Victim to Her Charms.

Revenge of the Nerds star Robert Carradine in an erotic thriller? Hmmm...where's Steven Bauer when you need him?

Next month: The Professionals.

Video Paradiso

2007-12-30T18:04:00.000-08:00

"This is awesome," says Jason. "I can't believe one guy has so many shitty movies."

"Dave, I can't believe you brought over a whole box of crappy videos," adds Lee.

Meet Jason and Lee, two young brothers from Gaithersburg who know their shitty movies and their crappy videos. In fact, they seek them out. When I first met the engaging pair at a family gathering, they asked me whether I was familiar with the film Jack-O. My god, I thought -- that was the very first video I reviewed, oh so many years ago. It stars John Carradine as the "Judge of Hell," even though he'd been dead several years by the time his scenes were cut into the story to add "marquee value." Who would know of such a film?

Realizing that I was in the presence of genius, I made arrangements to share the Videocrity experience with them, and on a recent Friday the 13th, I grabbed as many tapes as would fill a large storage box and sped to their cozy suburban home for an evening of professional video viewing. Their mom had pizza waiting. Life is good.

"Wanna see what we've got?" asks Lee, eager to show off their own stash of important works. He produces a well-viewed copy of the original Rumpelstiltskin. This film is a touchstone of wonderful awfulness to the boys. They enthusiastically quote Max Grodenchik's insane dialogue often. "Did you notice Jason's shirt?" asks Lee. Jason displays his Jerry Springer T with a proud laugh.

After they demonstrate their latest Japanese N64 game, at which I totally suck, we get down to business. The big box o' tapes is set on the coffee table, and the brothers begin digging into it with feverish glee.

"Oh, he has PHANTASM [IV: OBLIVION]," says Jason. "We've got that one." Of course they do. "POINT BLANK, I think I've actually heard of that," says Lee of the Mickey Rourke actioner (Sterling; slogan: "They're the Most Dangerous Criminals in Texas. And They're Seriously Out of Control"). "Oh, God, Lee, look at this," says Jason, holding up the Talia Shire picture THE LANDLADY (Trimark) and reading the slogan: "Evil Doesn't Knock -- It Has the Key." "I dunno," says Lee.

Jason spots Michael Ironside on the cover of BLACKLIGHT (Peachtree; co-starring Tahnee Welch; slogan: "Her Darkness Was His Searchlight"). "This guy's from Total Recall. I just saw that again."

"Hey, J, why don't you turn off the 64," says Lee. The incessant video-game music was becoming a distraction to the important work at hand.

"I like Madchen Amick," Lee says, admiring the former Twin Peaks gamine emoting on the cover of WOUNDED (Paramount; slogan: "She Was a Woman Devastated by Loss. Frightened for Her Life. And Hungry for Revenge"). "She's hot. Career's not."

Another Michael Ironside tape pops up, CAPTIVE, co-starring Playmate Erika Eleniak. "Where's his career going?" Jason sadly wonders, putting the box aside.

Lee finds a chopsocky lode: "Oooh -- Chow Yun Fat," he says, examining HONG KONG 1941 (Tai Seng; slogan: "A Story of Love and Courage in a Time of War"). "LADY HUNTER, THUNDER MISSION...it all sounds generic. KICKBOXER'S TEARS...'English dubbed' -- oh, probably sucks."

But he quickly strikes gold, too: "ADDICTED TO MURDER 2: TAINTED BLOOD!" Lee cries with delight. "Omigod!" "Oh, yes!" agrees Jason, reading the slogan, "'You Are Who You Eat.' Yessir!"

"Omigod! Jason," interjects Lee. "Look at the film quality -- this looks like Feeders."

"Oh, man. I think we have to watch that one." It goes in the yes pile.

"Whoa, what is that?" says Lee, picking up BRAM STOKER'S THE MUMMY (A-Pix). "Louis Gossett Jr.?! Hahahaha. He's horrible, man. He was in all 12 of the Iron Eagle movies."

"TNT with Eric Roberts," suggests Jason. "Eric Roberts sucks," Lee explains, offering instead Dolph Lundgren and Roy Scheider in THE PEACEKEEPER (Trimark). "'Three Strikes, You're Dead.'" No takers.

"Oh, Lee...Lee," calls Jason, holding up a copy of the action flick DRIVE (A-Pix), starring Mark Dacascos and Kadeem Hardison.

"No," Lee answers solemnly. "I will not watch that."

Jason picks up THE COLONY (Trimark) and reads the slogan: "'The Enemy Is Forming, Let the Invasion Begin.' Oh, god." In the no pile.

"Oh, Patrick Dempsey, gimme a break," snorts Lee, examining THE ESCAPE. "This is from A-Pix, I know it." Actually, it's from Orion, but the mistake is understandable. These fellows do know their DTV labels. As the tapes scatter about, Jason calls out: "Oh, Lee, Lee! Look at that! Omigoodness." "That" is HELL'S BELLES. "Oooh -- what on Earth?" Lee says, taking the box and reading the copy. "'The Gates of Hell Are Open...Again! In the tradition of Evil Dead II.' I bet you that's bullshit. Well, let's hold on to Hell's Belles."

"Yeah," agrees Jason.

Noting that the tape is on the "Killer B's" label, Lee comments, "That might mean that these are trying to be B-movies. Anything that's trying to be bad usually is."

Jason tosses aside the Patrick Stewart vehicle DAD SAVAGE (Polygram; slogan: "A Tale of Untamed Revenge") in favor of MILO (Sterling). "Oh, I saw this in the video store," says Lee. 'Jason and Freddy Were Kids, Too,'" he reads from the box. It does not make the cut.

"Ken Shamrock!" Jason exclaims, holding aloft CHAMPIONS (A-Pix; slogan: The Ultimate Fight...to the Death). Both brothers burst out laughing.

"Ken Shamrock is in Champions?" Lee gasps. "He's a wrestler in the WWF we see all the time," he explains, adding, "He's a horrendous actor."

Jason keeps digging. "MY BROTHER'S WAR (New Horizons)...this looks really 'dramatic.'" I point out that it stars Brolin pére et fils, James and Josh. That is, Mr. Barbra Streisand.

"Barbra Streisand's husband?" questions Lee. But interest dies as Jason points out CLUB VAMPIRE (New Horizons).

"Probably trying to be good," his brother scoffs.

"Jason, I think I've found a winner," says Lee, holding up THE TALISMAN (Full Moon; slogan: "Evil Never Dies").

"Oh, jeez," says Jason, unconvinced.

"What?!" Lee demands, then spots another candidate. "No, this is the winner -- TENDER FLESH. Look at that -- she's with, like, this mummy."

But there are so many winners. "Yessir, lookit that, Dave," says Lee, picking up THE CATCHER. "That's a winner," he says. "A killer baseball guy!" Checking the label, he notes to himself, "We have to look for Spectrum Films." Jason waves another box at his sibling, who recoils. "I won't watch PUPPETMASTER," says Lee.

"You won't?" prods Jason. "Well..."

"J, what do you think of THE CRIER?" Lee wants to know.

"Retarded." Jason stops rummaging for a moment. "God, this is so great, man. This is like...like my dream come true of crappy movies."

"I've never seen so many shitty movies in one place before," says Lee reverently. Surveying the yes pile, Lee says, "I think this is the worst of what I've seen: The Catcher, Tender Flesh, and Addicted to Murder 2. And Pauly." The fates being with us, the new Pauly Shore video has arrived just that day. "I say we start out with those four. What do you say, Jason?"

"I don't know if I can hack that much."

"I can watch four shitty movies in a row," Lee says confidently. "How long can you stay, Dave?" I have nowhere to go.

"What do we watch first?" asks Lee. "I think we have to watch Pauly." Of course we have to watch Pauly. It's time to fire up the VCR.

THE CURSE OF INFERNO
Orion
Slogan: They've Got a Plan. Now They Just Need a Clue.

"Is there one that Mommy could watch?" Mom calls timidly down the stairs. We decide that this "A John Warren Film" starring Pauly Shore, Janine Turner, Ned Beatty, and Stephen Tobolowsky, with music by ex-Doobie Brother/Steely Dan guitarist Jeff "Skunk" Baxter is safe enough. "Ah!" cries Mom at the first Pauly close-up. "Is this supposed to be a comedy? I haven't heard any laughs yet." It is a comedy in that it steals grossly from Woody Allen's masterpiece Take the Money and Run. But it also appears to be some kind of romance, with poor Janine straining mightily to conceal her horror at having to play the insipid Shore's love interest. It must be said that if he is to have a career at all, the direct-to-video market is where Mr. Shore belongs. Why he ever made theatrical films is a mystery. But his success in this field is also in question. It's not long at all before Lee says, "I'm already giving this the thumbs down." EJECT.

THE CATCHER
Spectrum Films
Slogan: Three Strikes...You're DEAD

"I like the box," says Jason. "It's translucent. Or some big word." "I just don't see how anything about baseball can be scary," Lee says. Well, this does star Joe Estevez, Emilio's uncle, as Lee is quick to spot. "That's an Estevez. Look at him." "Yeah," Jason agrees, "that's an Estevez." Just then, Mom comes down with some fresh soda. "Is that Martin Sheen with a bad haircut?" she asks. We explain the Estevez-Sheen family tree. As a very bad dad, Joe rates applause from the brothers when his kid beats him to death with a baseball bat. Then the film dissolves to a woman walking, and walking, down a hallway. Lee snorts, "Oh, Christ, a love interest." "She has an evil nose," observes Jason. When the lead appears, Lee says, "He looks like Ronnie James Dio," and brings out his Ronnie James Dio music video to prove it. "Will you help me with something for a minute?" Mom calls from upstairs. "No!" the brothers respond simultaneously. The film is a particularly confused Halloween "homage" set in a deserted baseball stadium. After a particularly ugly murder involving gross violation with a baseball bat, Lee says, "That is not cool. I didn't like that scene at all." "You know, this doesn't seem like it's going to end," Jason observes. But then Lee notes, "Oh, it has a story now." When Estevez appears later as some kind of ghost, Lee wonders, "Wouldn't it be great if his whole head came off?" Sadly, this is not to be. "That was messed up. Why didn't they have the music here? This is when they need the music," Lee says, properly annoyed at the untense plot. Still, when it's over, Jason admits, "I have to say, this is one of the better ones I've seen in a while." "Yeah," agrees Lee. "I'd even watch it again." PAUSE.

ADDICTED TO MURDER 2: TAINTED BLOOD
Brimstone Productions
Slogan: You Are Who You Eat...

"This looks like porno," notes Lee. "This is supposed to be a horror movie." Like porno, this "A Kevin J. Lindenmuth Film" about hip vampires in Manhattan was shot on videotape, which is cheap even by DTV standards. "We got this one called Feeders that looked just like this," Lee explains. "I'm so glad we found something just like Feeders. This is like watching regular people outside," he observes about the home-video production value. "It is," agrees Jason, adding, "I'd like to see Part 1." As stylish young New York City vampires ply their trade, Lee gets carried away. "This is awesome," he says. "No, Lee," counters Jason. "You're wrong." "She's going on a blind date," observes Lee. "That's what vampires do," explains Jason. "Do you think he's vampire food, J?" "I think we should watch another movie." "No, I'm into this." Suddenly, there's a competent effects shot. "I told you not to give up on this, J." But moments later, he is talking to the screen: "Give up on the plot already." "That cover looks much more professional than the film," says Lee, staring at the box. "And that's not saying much," adds Jason. "She had yellow teeth but white fangs," he points out. "They're trying so hard. It's like an epic on their part," says Lee. "I can't even tell what's happening anymore." "Do they ever send you good movies?" Jason wants to know. "Who's for quitting this and giving something else a try?" asks Lee. PAUSE.

KICKBOXER'S TEARS
Tai Seng
Slogan: To Avenge Her Brother's Death, She Must Face a Killer.

"This should have some action in it," says Lee. It should, being part of "Les Femmes Fatale [sic] Action Series" and starring Moon Lee. Lee's friend Ryan has joined us, but Jason is fading fast. He's had a tough week, and the endless kickboxing is not helping. Neither is the circa-1981 synth-pop soundtrack. After it becomes clear that we'll have to watch an entire kickboxing match before returning to whatever plot, Jason bids a fond adieu. "I want to know where the kickboxer's tears are," Lee demands, not unreasonably. And why do the villains in kung fu movies always look like Wayne Newton? "This is the type of movie Ryan would like," Lee says to his buddy. "You like that generic shit." But the genericness becomes oppressive. "Who's ready for Hell's Belles?" Lee asks. "This one's not going anywhere." EJECT.

HELL'S BELLES
Brimstone Productions
Slogan: The Gates of Hell Are Open...Again!

The same title effects as Addicted to Murder 2 reveal that this is another Kevin J. Lindenmuth film. And also shot on video. It supposedly concerns demons invading Earth and the demon hunters who try to stop them. This all takes place in a New York warehouse. "This is a big step up from the last movie," Lee notes. When a monster in a rubber fishhead mask appears, Lee exclaims, "That's what I'm talking about!" Later, he groans, "From this point on this movie has absolutely no chance of being serious." "Why not, Lee?" Ryan asks. "Because the hand was talking," Lee explains. But soon he's laughing again. "Yeah, see this is what I'm into -- heads coming out of the wall! Sorry Jason went to sleep. I can watch movies forever." Mom has brought a tray of chips and offers some trenchant analysis: "There's so much standing around and talking in this movie," she says. "At least she's beginning to act now," notes Lee of the lead actress. After some more Clive Barker-ishness, Ryan leaves to meet another buddy. Lee sighs, "I think we've given this movie way too much of a chance." "Yeah," agrees Mom. "I'm ready to throw food. I think we should watch something with an actual story." "I don't think I'm up to that," Lee protests. PAUSE.

THE NIGHT CALLER
Live Entertainment
Slogan: She Calls In. You Check Out.

This has an actual story and an actual budget, was shot on actual film, and features an actual star, Tracy Nelson, the reed-thin daughter of Ricky Nelson, granddaughter of Ozzie and Harriet Nelson, and sister of twin rockers Gunnar and Matthew of the hair band Nelson. The pedigree cuts no mustard with Lee. "Her face is not pleasant to watch," he says. "She looks like Marilyn Manson." Yes, she is scarier when she smiles. But there's also fetching co-star and associate producer Shanna Reed, as a Dr. Laura-type radio host in whom Tracy takes a stalking interest after killing her mother. But there are no Dr. Laura-type flashes of flesh. Instead, this is a psychological thriller, as Tracy gets a job with Shanna's answering service, so that she may better stalk. This involves long conversations while on the clock. "I worked in customer service," Lee points out. "Let me tell you, that never happens." As Tracy goes more nuts, Lee grumbles, "This is really ill." "I like this one," protests Mom. "I'm getting sucked in." "It's not going to get any better, is it?" Lee wants to know, adding, "I'm not ready to give it up, though." So we sit. "This reminds me of a couple other movies," says Lee. "Kinda reminded me a little of The Stepfather." So we sit. "Time for the movie to end now," says Lee. When it finally does, Mom says, "I think my ending was better." I think it was, too, but I can't remember what it was. PAUSE.

It has been a long, but productive, evening. Depending, of course, on your definition of "productive." As I pack the tapes back into the box and thank everyone for their hospitality, Lee stretches and points to one of his own tapes on the table. "I have Citizen Kane to watch later."

Next month: Sisters are doing it for themselves.

Something Naked This Way Comes

2007-12-30T18:02:00.000-08:00

It was a rescue mission; his wife had left him. Well, not really. Mary had accepted a job in Jakarta, of all places, and would be there for several months at least, leaving my friend JB home, alone. And what are friends for, if not to show up in times of stress with words of comfort? And videos of naked women? I am such a friend.

When I arrived at JB's cozy Reston home, I found him screaming at his computer. Good lord, I thought -- I'm too late! Then I saw the snazzy unit -- a Hewlett-Packard Pavilion model, number HP6370Z, with an Intel Pentium II 350MHz processor, 96MB SDRAM memory, 9.6GB hard drive, 100MB Zip drive, V.90 56Kflex modem with telephony, one-touch multimedia keyboard, ATI Rage Pro AGP 2x video card, and 8MB SDRAM video memory. Gosh, it's swell!

JB was screaming at the machine because he had installed IBM ViaVoice98 voice-recognition software, which seemed to be in an unlistening mood. "Will you write the words I tell you?" shouted JB, again and again. "Eilwh you sieht the weyeheh eye slsh you?" responded ViaVoice98 -- rather petulantly, I thought. It was 30 minutes before I could coax JB out of his computer room and in front of the TV. I piled the latest video offerings on the kitchen counter: a feast of feminine flesh in VHS format.

"I have to tell you," JB told me, in stern tones, "I consider myself a pornographile, and these things disgust me." The problem, he explained, is that "real pornography has no story. They just go at it." That, naturally, is as it should be. "This thing," he sniffed, waving the box to Vampire Call Girls, "has to have these titillating stories and a moral. So it always disappoints."

"Of course," he added, with a slow drag on his cigarette, "you're talking to a man who's been faithfully married for 25 years, so what do I know about adventurous sex?"

Well, let's find out.

VAMPIRE ECSTASY
E.I. Independent Cinema
Slogan: One of the Most Erotic and Provocative Vampire Films Ever Made!

"Wow," exclaimed JB. "They actually show nipples?" Sometimes they do, I replied with a professional smirk. "Do some of these really show full-frontal nudity?" he asked, hopefully. Ha-ha, my friend, be patient. Be patient. And patience was soon rewarded, as a cabal of nude vixens cavorted in an underground lair. "I think she's pretty," JB said of the vampish lass on the cover of the box. "She's just so striking." Searching the screen, he asked, "Which one is the cover girl?" Hard to tell. And hard to tell what exactly was supposed to be going on in all the writhing. "Maybe we ought to read the cover and get the plot," suggested JB, after fast-forwarding through another group grope. Plot: A group of women attempt to bring an evil baroness back from the dead through lesbo orgies. Turns out that Vampire Ecstasy is a classic from the mind of Joseph Sarno, sexploitation pioneer and auteur of more than 200 films. This is the "deluxe collector's edition" release of the long-sought work, shot in the early '70s in a castle in Germany ("which means those horses are dead now," JB shrewdly observed). As the vintage images unreeled before us, JB asked, more in pity than curiosity, "This is what you do for a living?" Well, yeah. "I'd like to see the script to this," said JB. "'Now in this scene you are masturbating while talking to Bobby. In this scene, you are masturbating while walking across the hall...'" I'm sure in 1973 the naked witchcraft and phallic candles were quite scandalous. "How much of these things do you usually watch?" JB wanted to know. I think this is plenty. FREEZE-FRAME.

VAMPIRE CALLGIRLS
Burning Moon Home Video
Slogan: They'll Love You to DEATH.

"The machine ejected it by itself. What's that tell ya?" JB scoffed as he tried to get the tape to play. It tells you that this was shot on video and apparently stars habitués of some New Jersey bar. But I could be wrong; the cast might be members of a Long Island strip club. "I've always wondered," JB wondered, while a large-breasted woman squirmed all over a spinning washing machine in the extended pre-credit sequence, "are these real actresses?" As the "real" actress continued fondling her "real" breasts and humping the Kenmore, JB, who has been in the construction business going on 30 years, spotted the problem with the scene: "You need to adjust the feet on that washing machine. It shouldn't be rocking like that." As the laundromat scene went on and on -- and on -- JB asked, "Is that what vampires do all day?" Not sure. We're really not given much info before the chompers appear and the blood spatters. "She's really trying to act, isn't she?" JB said of the woman who had trouble with dialogue even before putting in the vampire teeth. As one incongruous bit of nonsense followed another, JB turned to me with a look of stunned disappointment. How, his crushed features seemed to say, could such inanity be created? Where is the Eros? The Romance? The simple plot continuity? Has, perhaps, God forsaken us? He threw his pizza down in disgust. I hit Fast Forward. Later, JB asked, "What is it with shower scenes? Are they a standard feature of these movies?" Before I could speak, JB provided the answer: "Is it because you're a voyeur and you're not supposed to see it?" As usual, JB had cut to the heart of the matter, insightfully encapsulating the entire raison d'étre of the DTV genre. He is a wise man. Wisely, he said, "I think now would be a good time to start fast-forwarding." EJECT

HEAVEN OR VEGAS
Columbia/Tristar
Slogan: Winner Take All. Double or Nothing.

Having somehow missed the Academy Award-winning Leaving Las Vegas, I was particularly excited at the prospect of this film, starring Richard Grieco and Yasmine Bleeth in the roles previously played by the much skinnier Nicolas Cage and Elisabeth Shue. A word about Ms. Bleeth: In addition to a strangely euphonious name, she has a smile that simply lights up the darkest night. I'm sure we'd get along just dandy, should she ever return my calls. And so the thought of Ms. B deigning to enter my DTV world had me all a-giggle. Tragically -- no, super-tragically -- when I hit the Play button, there was no sound. Not a peep. The picture was gloriously clear, the color sharp and vibrant. But as the camera played over the Vegas skyline, none of the -- undoubtedly -- smoky jazz score could be heard. "I really, really wanted to like this one," said JB, echoing my deep despair. "This is a big disappointment." We sat a moment longer in cruel silence. Noting Yasmine's outfit, JB sighed, "The red wig, the little black bra peeking out -- all the makings of a well thought-out production." Yes, obviously. I must give Yasmine my highest rating! PLAY.

EXECUTIVE POWER
Artisan
Slogan: An Improper Relationship Was the Least of His Problems.

"This is a definite improvement," JB said as the tape began. "This one has sound." And a plot ripped from today's headlines. And yesterday's. As the world becomes more and more confusing, we look to art for answers. Big Art asks the big "What if" questions. For instance: "What if Monica had died, maybe gagged to death in the Oval Office?" One answer is that John Heard and Craig Sheffer would find work. As they have in this political thriller about a Secret Service agent who's "not gonna sweep another scandal under the rug." Except that's pretty much what happens, after a bunch of shooting, explosions, and chase scenes. There's a nice, elegant score, and proper mention is made of Tim McCarthy, the agent slain during the Reagan assassination attempt. But more of the dialogue is along the lines of this: "With all due respect, Mr. President -- fuck you!" "This is like a really bad movie, Dave," said JB, ignoring my pitiful protests. "What's sad about this is they're trying. They've got a group of pretty girls, they put some money into it, nice cars..." His voice trailed off in disinterest, and he began playing with the tiny kitten his wife had acquired a few days before leaving the country. "This kitten goes after this toy about as much as I like your direct-to-video movies," he said, as the cat sat motionless on his chest and I sat glumly in the recliner. I had been almost enjoying the film. "OK," said JB, tossing kitty aside and reaching for the remote. "It's time to check out Beach Babe Experiment." PAUSE.

THE BEACH BABE EXPERIMENT
E.I. Independent Cinema

"What do you think they're going for in this one?" said JB facetiously, mulling the ample pulchritude displayed on the box. "Actually, this looks fun. I wanna see the first five minutes, where she's a real girl. I want to see the conversion to Beach Babe." Yes, that is the height of eroticism, isn't it? The transformation, the willing sublimation, the giving in to one's passionate nature. But the filmmakers opted for a bunch of gals exposing their breasts in a hot tub in someone's back yard. "See, this is what I'm talking about!" said JB. "The only thing he's got that we don't is the girls," he observed, perhaps too wishfully. "They're just having so much fun," he noted, as the women writhed in swirling water. As the "plot" developed -- a "student" interviews "beach babes" for a study of "babeology" -- JB grew bored of the endless parade of breasts, bikinis, and butts. "Again, I could never figure this shit out -- are the girls stupid? They're nice, attractive girls, and they do these cheap things." And this is super-cheap, shot on videotape -- an alarming trend in DTV-land. As the lead actress continued her "studies," JB came to a shocking realization: "You know what -- that's Macaulay Culkin!" Egad, he was right. The resemblance is startling. Which takes some of the erotic thrill out of things -- not all, but some. "This whole thing was shot in one day, wasn't it?" JB said, with typical perception. As the movie ended, JB yawned, stretched, and lit another smoke. "And that was it?" Yeah. Unsure whether my mission had succeeded, I packed up the tapes and left my friend to commune with the machines in his empty house. FREEZE-FRAME.

NEVADA
Columbia/Tristar
Slogan: The West is Wildest Where the Women Rule!

"Look at those pumps she's wearing with that dress!" snorted my special friend "J." "It's preposterous! Do you think she's walked that entire ribbon of highway in those?" No, but it certainly adds to the mystery of this "A Film by Gary Tieche." Who is she? Where is she going? Why? Eventually, Miss Inappropriate Footwear finds her way into the deep desert to, as my special friend "J" put it, "a strange, out-of-the-way settlement of young, good-looking people." And Kathy Najimy. And Kirstie Alley "at her big stage," and an almost unrecognizable Dee Wallace Stone, turning in a surprisingly bright performance in a k.d. lang crew cut. "Sure is filled with sexy mamas for a town in the middle of nowhere," observed my special friend "J." Yes, the men are all away building a dam, so the gals get to do what gals do when the guys are away building a dam: They talk. And talk. And gossip. And talk. I wanted to fast-forward. "J" stopped me. It wasn't just the blather that was causing my eyes to droop. I was bone-tired and ready to sleep. "Hang in there," soothed "J." "You'll be so glad you've knocked off another one. It's true, not much has happened now, but that just means that a lot will happen in the second half." I admired her optimism but headed for the couch. As I dozed, I heard "J" commenting, "This is totally homoerotic. This is totally lesbian." I forced myself back to consciousness in time for the dénouement, which, though written and directed by a man, involved a woman choosing some vague self-discovery over honoring her commitment to a family that did not seem in any way deserving of abandonment. "Weird-ass movie," said my special friend "J." PAUSE

MEN
A-Pix
Slogan: So Many Men. So Little Time.

Karen Black, seen of late in so many DTV efforts, often speaking and singing in languages of her own devising, has perhaps realized that she must take control of her career. And so she is the co-author of this story about a woman with "too much curiosity," who believes in "sexual anarchy," and says, "I shouldn't blindly accept anybody else's idea of what's moral or immoral or civilized or uncivilized." Thank goodness, that woman is played not by Black but by perky, kooky Sean Young. (Black appears as a blind lesbian.) Sean declines the use of a body double, thank you, as she picks up men willy-nilly for romps. There are many shots of condom wrappers -- this is safe sexual anarchy. There are also many shots of gourmet cooking and a wine lesson from John Heard until chef-wannabe Sean finally falls for a guy who looks exactly like Mariel Hemingway, with better hair but not as smart. He lectures us on the economic discrepancies he will overcome with his photography. In the end -- though the title says "The Beginning" -- Sean learns a valuable lesson: She knows "just how important the sex is." Well, duh! I'm not sure what lesson I learned. FREEZE-FRAME.

Next month: For your protection.

For Your Protection

2007-12-30T17:59:00.000-08:00

Recently, thieves broke into Videocrity World Headquarters and stole our TV and VCR. Quelle ironie! Thank goodness, none of the hundreds of videotapes organized in scattered piles were touched. They slowed us down, but they haven't stopped us. But it has caused a reconsideration of our entire political stance. Thus, Videocrity announces that we are throwing our full support behind former Vice President Dan Quayle in his bid to be the first chief executive of the millennium. We are certain he'll be tough on crime. Go get 'em, Danny boy.

PROTECTOR
Sterling
Slogan: Fast Fingers...Short Fuse

"What was Randy Quaid thinking?" asked my friend Sean, adding, as if to answer, "although he was in Caddyshack 2." The elder Quaid shaved his head for this role as a cop who tells fallen fellow cop Mario Van Peebles, "You're back on, Jack. We need you." Van Peebles is needed to protect the moll of a slain mob boss and to get the goods on rival mob boss Ben Gazzara, here in a "special appearance." The moll is worth protecting because she knows how to play Erik Satie's "Trois Gymnopédies" on the piano, one of my favorite tunes. But there's more MTV than WGMS involved here, as Mario gets a touch of jungle fever and becomes a bit too close to his witness, leaving Rae Dawn Chong in the lurch. "Rae Dawn, she doesn't show it," lamented Sean, before quickly sputtering, "Omigod!" when she did. "Wow! Holy Jesus!" he added. "Oh, bad edit. The bra is back on." This conundrum led to repeated viewing, which seemed to indicate an expert use of a body double. Good for Rae Dawn. Still, Sean was hooked, running back in every few minutes. "I'm afraid to leave," he said. "Patience really pays off with this thing. Wait five minutes...Jesus Christ! There you go. God damn, this is all right. To think I'm still on the clock." As the "love" scene faded, Sean turned to Dan, who had wandered in, drawn by Sean's enthusiastic ejaculations. "That was pretty good, huh?" "A lot more than I bargained for," replied Dan. "This is Mario's second killer sex scene," explained Sean, somewhat breathlessly. "It's a shame that such a good sex scene is trapped in such a shitty movie," he added. True -- quick cuts, slow plot. "You can tell that's the last sex scene because they're in love," Sean astutely noted. Yep, all that was left was to unveil the "surprise" ending. FREEZE-FRAME.

THE PROTECTOR
New Horizons
Slogan: When the Law Fails to Protect and Serve, He Takes Over.

Having just viewed Protector, I wondered what difference the article "the" would make. The fact that this is "A Brett McCormick Film" seemed less impressive than the sight of Lee Majors on the cover. "Lee Majors?" asked my pseudonymous friend Lucy. "That's the Six Million Dollar Man!" Indeed. But the real star is Ed Marinaro. Yes, he was Sonny St. Jacques on Laverne & Shirley. He also starred as Joey Buttafuoco in a TV movie. And was always showing up in Bob Hope specials. But let's go to his college bio: "In his three seasons as Cornell's tailback (1969-70-71), Ed Marinaro (6-2', 210, from New Milford, N.J.) set rushing and scoring records wholesale and won every major honor with the exception of the Heisman Trophy, for which he placed a close second to quarterback Pat Sullivan of Auburn University." Now Ed is the Protector, a former secret operative whose wife was brutally killed, leaving him to dedicate himself to protecting other stalked women. "So he's like Batman?" my pseudonymous friend Lucy asked. "That's great." Instead of a Batcave, Ed has fancy warehouse space and "Gertrude," a super-computer capable of everything the script might conveniently need. "Gertrude, log onto the Net and scan for messages," says Ed, while his talking computer scrolls DOS directories. Please. Ed's dead ex-wife is programmed into the system and, with his virtual suit, Ed can have dinner with her. It's a kind of cyber-necrophilia, really. "Isn't she weirded out by this?" my friend Elissa wanted to know, as Ed "danced" cyberly with his invisible ex while his latest protectee watched from the guest bed. I quickly (and correctly) assessed the plot. "You are good at this," said Elissa, giving me far too much credit. "Jesus Christ, look at that!" cried Lucy. "All of a sudden we're naked!" (She was referring, I hasten to add, to the action on screen.) "This is not fair -- all her clothes are off and he still has all his on." When Majors appeared (playing evil hit man "Austin"), Lucy said, "I suppose he's still a handsome man," adding, "He's a bit fleshy." As Ed fought through the office corridors, Lucy gushed, "He is totally like Batman. I'm getting to like him." As Gertrude conjured virtual policemen, Lucy said, "This is mysterious." "This is like the X-Files," said Elissa. "I can't eat and watch this," said Lucy. "Wow -- that was creepy." But good creepy. Look for the Protector to return. And whatever happened to Pat Sullivan, anyway? PLAY.

LITTLE CITY
Miramax
Slogan: When Your One and Only...Isn't the Only One!

"Is this a real movie?" my pseudonymous friend Lucy wanted to know. Well, the cast includes JoBeth Williams, Penelope Ann Miller, Annabella Sciorra, Josh Charles, Joanna Going, and..."Omigod, that's Jon Bon Jovi?" asked my friend Elissa. Yes, the hair-band hero returns in another quirky indie film. Soon, Lucy was hooked. "This is really cool -- that's really San Francisco. This is a big-budget movie." The plot is certainly sprawling. All of the characters keep changing partners -- and some change sexual preferences, and change them again, until, as one of them says, "It's fucked up. It's a really fucked-up situation." "Whoa, this is a great movie," said Lucy. "There's action galore!" "Oh, man, she has issues!" noted Elissa, as another argument ensued. "He's so cute, Josh Charles. What's she doing with Jon Bon Jovi?" Elissa wanted to know. "He is cute," agreed Lucy. "I would love him if given the chance," said Elissa. "Get me into this movie!" "They have nice places to live," said Lucy. "That is insane." "She has issues," repeated Elissa, about another character and another argument. "I know they think this is empowering for women, but it's a bit misconceived." "Parts of it are kind of intelligent," countered Lucy. "It's got good lines," admitted Elissa. As the pizza ran out, we tried to figure out who would wind up with whom. "There aren't that many combinations left at this point," said Elissa. After all her Josh Charles talk, when the movie ended, Elissa asked, "Wasn't that horrible?" "The plot was kind of hard to follow," added Lucy, who had slept through much of it. For JoBeth's brave lesbo role, I say, PLAY.

STORM TROOPER
Peachtree
Slogan: The Key to Freedom Is an Angry Woman.

My lawyer friend Jeff, editor of the influential e-newsletter Witzelsucht Memorandum (www.witmemo.com), brought some nice beer for a viewing of this "A Jim Wynorski Film." Better, he brought his lovely friend Talia, who quickly pointed out that star Carol Alt used to be "a big name in the '80s." Even after a decade and a half of making movies, often in Italian productions, Carol's acting is not quite to the level of, say, Cindy Crawford's. But, she's "still the leggy supermodel," Jeff pointed out. And she's ably supported by Kool Moe Dee and Corey Feldman as evil soldiers of fortune. Corey sports a large eye patch, perhaps imagining that he is conjuring Kurt Russell's bravura turn as Snake Plissken in Escape From New York. He's not. Carol plays an abused wife who just happens to get in the path of an escaping government-created Robo-Cyborg-Clone-Killing-Machine guy. "That part's from Terminator," Jeff astutely noted, when Robo's guts were revealed. There's a man on fire, but there are too many villains, and they keep switching sides. And one of them looks like David Letterman's red-haired announcer. "I just realized," said Jeff with dismay, "we're not going to see the naked chick cyborg again." No, but we may see Storm Trooper II. EJECT.

THE LAST SEDUCTION II
Polygram

"I'm afraid this film might be too good for us," worried my lawyer friend Jeff. No, the first Last Seduction, which introduced sultry Linda Fiorentino, is too good for us. Since that was a success, this absurdly titled sequel was destined. And since Linda has gone on to A-list material, it is up to Joan Severance to do a Fiorentino impression. This is probably Joan's best acting: pretending to be a better actress. Picking right up where the first Last left off, Joan gets involved with a guy whose international phone-sex business is so big that his proprietary software fits on one floppy. After working her double-cross, Joan hangs around, apparently to perfect her phone-sex skills. "Oh, she's wearing a different black dress," noted Talia. "Isn't coke in movies as passé as DOS commands in movies?" asked Jeff. Yes, but the spunky gal private eye trailing Joan is a nice twist. I wanna see a whole movie with Beth Goddard. "You're transfixed," Jeff accused Talia. "No, I'm not," she insisted, and I believe her. "I think the ATF should get after her for nonstop smoking," Talia said, as Joan lit another one. "It's Europe," Jeff explained. In the end, the bitch set everyone up. And set us up for a third Last Seduction. EJECT.

LEGIONNAIRE
Sterling
Slogan: A Fugitive From a Killer. A Remote Outpost. A Fight to the Death.

Hooray! They're making Foreign Legion movies again. At least Jean-Claude Van Damme is, which rather tempers the celebration a bit. He is co-author of the story, which is crafted, as all his films are, to showcase his butt. Here, he shows his naked butt. Despite that, this is an A-production, with exotic locations, an elegant score, epic battles, and a good old-fashioned imperialist outlook that will win no friends among the Arab community. In 1925 Marseilles, pugilist Van Damme is asked to take a dive. He refuses, and during the chase scene he joins the French Foreign Legion. Fine, but why do his enemies also join -- just to track him down? The filmmakers probably saw John Wayne's The Alamo many, many times. That is a work of insane jingoistic hagiography. I saw it a child, and it haunts me still (Remember: March 6!). Van Damme and Co. blow up their desert version real good. For childish thrills, it's hard to beat. Vive la France! PLAY.

PLUMP FICTION
Rhino
Slogan: From the Producers Who Saw Pulp Fiction, Reservoir Dogs, & Braveheart

"I guess I'm at a distinct disadvantage here, because I'm not familiar with any of the films they're talking about," said my friend Pat, the noted cinéaste. In fact, Pat adamantly avoids the multiplexes, which stubbornly present only recent movies made in color. (I believe the last film I got him to watch in a theater was Dunston Checks In.) No, Pat prefers to remain in his swanky bachelor pad (sunken living room!), where he avidly studies the works of Hollywood's golden years on his laser-disc machine. Pat recently gifted me with a copy of the 66-year-old laugh-fest Diplomaniacs, starring the vaudevillian comedy team of Wheeler & Woolsey, as well as the iconic duo's 1932 gut-buster, Hold 'Em Jail (which features a young Betty Grable). So a film that parodies Quentin Tarantino's thoroughly modern oeuvre, along with nearly every other hit movie of the last two decades, was not for Pat. Especially because this "A Gary Binkow Production of a Film by Bob Koherr" is an almost shot-for-shot takeoff and stars such L.A. comedy hipsters as Sandra Bernhard, Julie Brown, Dan Castellaneta, Judy Tenuta, and, uh, Jimmie Walker. The type of folks who wouldn't know a Wheeler from a Woolsey if it slipped on a banana peel right in front of them. My question is: Why wasn't this just a series of sketches on Mad TV? How'd they get the serious cash for a feature? 'Cause I'm working on a parody of Diplomaniacs that is dy-no-mite! PAUSE.