Zone Troopers (1985)
Dir: Danny Bilson
"They take war to a new dimension"
Tonight, I'm in the mood for a war picture...but you can keep your goddamn Saving Private Ryans and your From Here to Eternitys; those movies don't have NEARLY enough laser guns and aliens in them! Join me in the Basement of Sleaze as I journey back to the darkest days of WWII to spend a little time with the Zone Troopers!
Cut off behind enemy lines in Nazi-occupied Italy in 1944, legendary war hero "Iron Sarge (the always welcome Tim Thomerson, Trancers, Near Dark)" and his squadron (including Class of 1984's Timothy Van Patten, Cobra's Art LaFleur and Tancers' Biff Manard) come upon the remains of a crashed alien spacecraft. Captured by the SS while exploring the vessel, our determined dogfaces meet their fellow captive: an insectoid, tobacco-eating alien creature being tortured and studied by the Nazis. This dirty third-dozen hatches an escape plan and takes the E.T. with them, who manages to call down a raygun-packing rescue party (who, for some reason, look like boring albino humans). Sarge convinces the aliens to have a team-up and they all enjoy a little Nazi ass-kicking together. But will even this otherworldly firepower be enough to allow our boys to escape the border? Oh yeah, even Hitler shows up at one point and gets punched in the face!
Goddamn, I LOVED this movie! It's been criticized for being silly and comic bookish, but why is that a bad thing? This plays EXACTLY like a bizarre Silver Age DC war comic (think along the lines of "The War That Time Forgot" or some of the more out-there stories in "G.I. Combat"). This film, from Charles Band's Empire Pictures, is 100% genre movie pleasure from beginning to end, with solid direction from Bilson and some great performances (Band regular Thomerson and Van Patten come off best). Either Bilson is extremely talented at putting his entire budget up on screen, or this has higher production values than most Empire efforts, with great period-authentic costumes, weaponry and locations. The primary alien design by John Carl Buechler is pretty boring/unconvincing, but that's a minor quibble. Zone Troopers is rated PG, so you could happily enjoy it with the whole goddamn family, which isn't something I get to type too fucking often down here in the basement! Co-writers Bilson and Paul DeMeo would go on to develop DC's The Flash into a short-lived television series a few years later. Highly recommended; see it!
Enter...If you dare!
Big thanks to "Diamond" Dave Wheeler for the bitchin' logo!
Sunday, January 31, 2016
Sunday, January 24, 2016
Entry 98: Remote Control (1987)
Remote Control (1988)
Dir: Jeff Lieberman
"As close to home as your VCR."
In need of a good Saturday night rental? Join me down in the Basement of Sleaze for Remote Control (just don't watch the video TOO closely)!
"Remote Control" is the hottest new rental title at Village Video. Problem is, the folks renting it wind up dead! When four renters are discovered brutally murdered, slacker clerks Cosmo (Kevin Dillon, The Blob, TV's Entourage) and Georgie (Christopher Wynne, Cop, Back to the Future Part III) are blamed. The real killer, however, is the tape; turns out it broadcasts an alien signal designed to program humanity to wipe itself out! On the run from both the cops and asshole customer Victor (MN native and "Looking Glass Wars" author Frank Bedor, who looks a shitload like a young, thin Gary Busey), who was the signal's first programmed killer, our heroes team up with Victor's sexy girlfriend, Belinda (Deborah Goodrich, Just One of the Guys, April Fools' Day) and track the tapes to their source, a video manufacturer run by aliens disguised as Japanese scientists. After Georgie is killed, it's up to Kevin (and his sweet, Snake Plissken-esque steel-plated boots) to destroy the tapes, win Belinda's heart and save mankind!
Remote Control explores the same narrative territory as Cronenberg's Videodrome and Carpenter's They Live, but writer-director Lieberman eschews the cerebral philosophizing of the former and the social commentary of the latter to craft a lighter film that's interested only in showing it's audience a good time. If there's very little of substance in Remote Control, it's still a helluva good time, with likable characters, quotable dialogue and a few genuine laughs. In fact, with it's appealing teen leads and refusal to take it's end-of-the-world situation seriously, it reminds me very much of Thom Eberhardt's underrated Night of the Comet. The scenes from the "Remote Control" video, which were filmed in black-and-white and have a great, Republic Pictures serial look, are worth watching for alone. Like the toy store scenes in Silent Night, Deadly Night, one of the most enjoyable aspects of Remote Control is it's frequent video store setting. I recognized quite a few old VHS boxes whose artwork I'd forgotten about, as well as great vintage posters for Mountaintop Motel Massacre, Nomads, The Manitou, Missing in Action, Re-Animator and MANY more (even a Jane Fonda workout series standee!). If you hail from the pre-internet age and remember spending countless (dateless) Friday nights in high school renting an armload of tapes, this'll definitely hit you with a wave of nostalgia. Lieberman also made the underrated 70's psycho/drug/hippy thriller Blue Sunshine, the mocked-on-MST3K revolt-of-nature flick Squirm and the above-average slasher Just Before Dawn. Jennifer Tilly (Bound, Bride of Chucky) has a small, pre-fame role as an early victim.
Dir: Jeff Lieberman
"As close to home as your VCR."
In need of a good Saturday night rental? Join me down in the Basement of Sleaze for Remote Control (just don't watch the video TOO closely)!
"Remote Control" is the hottest new rental title at Village Video. Problem is, the folks renting it wind up dead! When four renters are discovered brutally murdered, slacker clerks Cosmo (Kevin Dillon, The Blob, TV's Entourage) and Georgie (Christopher Wynne, Cop, Back to the Future Part III) are blamed. The real killer, however, is the tape; turns out it broadcasts an alien signal designed to program humanity to wipe itself out! On the run from both the cops and asshole customer Victor (MN native and "Looking Glass Wars" author Frank Bedor, who looks a shitload like a young, thin Gary Busey), who was the signal's first programmed killer, our heroes team up with Victor's sexy girlfriend, Belinda (Deborah Goodrich, Just One of the Guys, April Fools' Day) and track the tapes to their source, a video manufacturer run by aliens disguised as Japanese scientists. After Georgie is killed, it's up to Kevin (and his sweet, Snake Plissken-esque steel-plated boots) to destroy the tapes, win Belinda's heart and save mankind!
Remote Control explores the same narrative territory as Cronenberg's Videodrome and Carpenter's They Live, but writer-director Lieberman eschews the cerebral philosophizing of the former and the social commentary of the latter to craft a lighter film that's interested only in showing it's audience a good time. If there's very little of substance in Remote Control, it's still a helluva good time, with likable characters, quotable dialogue and a few genuine laughs. In fact, with it's appealing teen leads and refusal to take it's end-of-the-world situation seriously, it reminds me very much of Thom Eberhardt's underrated Night of the Comet. The scenes from the "Remote Control" video, which were filmed in black-and-white and have a great, Republic Pictures serial look, are worth watching for alone. Like the toy store scenes in Silent Night, Deadly Night, one of the most enjoyable aspects of Remote Control is it's frequent video store setting. I recognized quite a few old VHS boxes whose artwork I'd forgotten about, as well as great vintage posters for Mountaintop Motel Massacre, Nomads, The Manitou, Missing in Action, Re-Animator and MANY more (even a Jane Fonda workout series standee!). If you hail from the pre-internet age and remember spending countless (dateless) Friday nights in high school renting an armload of tapes, this'll definitely hit you with a wave of nostalgia. Lieberman also made the underrated 70's psycho/drug/hippy thriller Blue Sunshine, the mocked-on-MST3K revolt-of-nature flick Squirm and the above-average slasher Just Before Dawn. Jennifer Tilly (Bound, Bride of Chucky) has a small, pre-fame role as an early victim.
Thursday, January 21, 2016
Entry 97: Axe (AKA Lisa, Lisa-1974)
Axe (AKA Lisa, Lisa-1974)
Dir: Frederick R. Friedel
"Stay away from Lisa!"
This oddball movie opens with three suited, tough-talking, Norman Mailerish hoods torturing a dude to death. They put out a lit cigar in his mouth and pistol-whip him 'til he expires, then make his partner jump out a 12-story window. Fleeing the cops, they head out into the picturesque countryside, They stop at a country store and, just to be dicks, lead toughs Steele (Jack Canon, Maximum Overdrive, Weekend at Bernie's) and Lomax (radio personality Ray Green, who once interviewed Elvis!) shoot the place up and, after humiliating the female clerk and making her undress at gunpoint, pour ketchup and cola all over her while she sobs. Meanwhile, on an isolated farm, teenage Lisa cares for her mute, wheelchair-bound grandfather and (graphically) slaughters chickens in order to put food on the table. Predictably, the hoods end up stumbling upon the farm and decide it to be the ideal place at which to lay low until the heat eases off their double murder. Not warned away by the bloody, headless chicken they immediately spy upon entering, they hold grandpa at gunpoint and force Lisa to cook for them. While Lisa contemplates suicide, sensitive third hood Billy (director Friedel) apologizes to her and tries to get his buddies to vacate the premises. When Lomax attempts to rape Lisa, she murders him with a straight razor, then hacks his corpse to pieces in the bathroom. When Billy discovers the body, Lisa tells him that Steel committed the murder (Yojimboed!!!). After he (also) tries to rape her, Lisa offs Steel with an axe, and when Billy discovers the body, he attempts to escape, only to be shot dead by the cops.
Axe was released as a drive-in feature to little fanfare in 1975, then gained notoriety when it was released to home video in the early 80's as one of the UK's original "Video Nasties." Honestly, this film deserves better than that. Friedel's direction, which juxtaposes tranquil scenes of rural beauty with acts of shocking violence, borrows from Terrence Malick's Badlands (1973) and anticipates Philip Ridley's The Reflecting Skin (1990). Much of that credit is due to cinematographer Austin McKinney (Galaxy of Terror, The Terminator), who does fantastic work here. Sadly, Friedel would go on to direct only one more feature (1976's Kidnapped Coed). That's a goddamn shame, as he's managed to conjure up a haunting, atmospheric gem here. Did I mention that this film has a weird obsession with bare feet? In addition to a lengthy scene of Steel cutting his toenails, the movie is filled with enough inexplicable shots of Lisa's toes to give Tarantino a hard-on for a full year! At only 67 minutes, Axe BARELY qualifies as a feature, but it NEVER outwears it's welcome and you could easily slot it in between episodes of whatever network drivel you're currently watching (I kid because I care). HIGHLY recommended to fans of off-kilter/offbeat cinema!
Dir: Frederick R. Friedel
"Stay away from Lisa!"
This oddball movie opens with three suited, tough-talking, Norman Mailerish hoods torturing a dude to death. They put out a lit cigar in his mouth and pistol-whip him 'til he expires, then make his partner jump out a 12-story window. Fleeing the cops, they head out into the picturesque countryside, They stop at a country store and, just to be dicks, lead toughs Steele (Jack Canon, Maximum Overdrive, Weekend at Bernie's) and Lomax (radio personality Ray Green, who once interviewed Elvis!) shoot the place up and, after humiliating the female clerk and making her undress at gunpoint, pour ketchup and cola all over her while she sobs. Meanwhile, on an isolated farm, teenage Lisa cares for her mute, wheelchair-bound grandfather and (graphically) slaughters chickens in order to put food on the table. Predictably, the hoods end up stumbling upon the farm and decide it to be the ideal place at which to lay low until the heat eases off their double murder. Not warned away by the bloody, headless chicken they immediately spy upon entering, they hold grandpa at gunpoint and force Lisa to cook for them. While Lisa contemplates suicide, sensitive third hood Billy (director Friedel) apologizes to her and tries to get his buddies to vacate the premises. When Lomax attempts to rape Lisa, she murders him with a straight razor, then hacks his corpse to pieces in the bathroom. When Billy discovers the body, Lisa tells him that Steel committed the murder (Yojimboed!!!). After he (also) tries to rape her, Lisa offs Steel with an axe, and when Billy discovers the body, he attempts to escape, only to be shot dead by the cops.
Axe was released as a drive-in feature to little fanfare in 1975, then gained notoriety when it was released to home video in the early 80's as one of the UK's original "Video Nasties." Honestly, this film deserves better than that. Friedel's direction, which juxtaposes tranquil scenes of rural beauty with acts of shocking violence, borrows from Terrence Malick's Badlands (1973) and anticipates Philip Ridley's The Reflecting Skin (1990). Much of that credit is due to cinematographer Austin McKinney (Galaxy of Terror, The Terminator), who does fantastic work here. Sadly, Friedel would go on to direct only one more feature (1976's Kidnapped Coed). That's a goddamn shame, as he's managed to conjure up a haunting, atmospheric gem here. Did I mention that this film has a weird obsession with bare feet? In addition to a lengthy scene of Steel cutting his toenails, the movie is filled with enough inexplicable shots of Lisa's toes to give Tarantino a hard-on for a full year! At only 67 minutes, Axe BARELY qualifies as a feature, but it NEVER outwears it's welcome and you could easily slot it in between episodes of whatever network drivel you're currently watching (I kid because I care). HIGHLY recommended to fans of off-kilter/offbeat cinema!
Friday, January 15, 2016
Entry 96: Alien 2: On Earth (1980)
Alien 2: On Earth (1980)
Dir: Ciro Ippolito
"...You may be next!"
If you liked Alien, but felt it spent too much time on stunning visuals, a genuinely unnerving creature and creating an air of dread, and too little time on interminable scenes of garage doors opening, cars stuck in traffic, bowling, outrageous 70s fashions and bad folk rock, have I fucking got a movie for you! Join me in the Basement of Sleaze for Alien 2: On Earth!
In a film that thrillingly dares to expand about 30 minutes worth of narrative into 93 minutes, we open on some glaringly-obvious stock footage of a space launch and are informed that the astronauts are returning to earth (the purpose of their mission and their destination are kept vague). We're then introduced to psychic speleologist Thelma (Belinda Mayne, Don't Open Til Christmas, Krull) and her boyfriend Roy (Mark Bodin, Anthropophagus). Thelma has weird visions and a bad feeling about the space mission, but is ignored by her creepy, Freudian professor to ignore the "monsters" around her. We then get to endure a half hour of Thelma and Roy driving around running errands, going bowling and visiting some Native Americans (none of which have any consequence to the plot), which is livened up only slightly by Thelma bearing her tits and Roy having awesome facial hair. After a little girl gets her face melted off by a piece of space debris (and admittedly ballsy scene), Thelma, Roy and some random friends decide to go spelunking in some nearby caves. At this point, the movie finally livens up, and our trapped-beneath-the-earth heroes are attacked by rock-borne, face-bursting alien creatures! The lethal little buggers look like nondescript bits of viscera that (apparently) have powerful hindquarters, as they're able to leap from victim to victim. Anyway, it turns out that our intrepid stock-footage astronauts from the beginning of the film came back as less-than-human and splashed down in an ocean near the caves (hence the little girl being killed earlier). As the little alien beasties pick off the heroes one-by-one, we're treated to all manner of decapitations, eyeball-gougings, face-meltings and other manner of bodily mutilation, with gore effects that certainly make up in enthusiasm and quantity what they lack in quality. It turns out that the creatures are ALSO capable of mimicking their victims (an idea cribbed from John Campbell's novella "The Thing" and which is discovered by psychic Thelma while the film does a sweet, pre-MTV wind tunnel effect with her feathered hair). Thelma and Roy manage to escape the caves into a deserted city, where Roy is killed and Thelma is forced to combat the creatures alone, with expectedly apocalyptic results.
The early 80s produced A LOT of Alien cash-ins and knockoffs (Corman produced at least a half-dozen) but, as far as I know, this Italian production was the only one with the cajones to brazenly pass itself off as an "official" sequel (six years before James Cameron's Aliens). 20th Century Fox sued, but the producers of this film won by claiming they were sequelizing a public-domain novel from the 30s also titled Alien; that's a level of sleaziness I can admire! Alien 2 is pretty typically of Italian ripoffsploitation flicks; it features gratuitous violence and nudity, poorly-ADRed dialogue, a pulsing synth score and mostly thinly-disguised foreign locales passed off as America, with only a couple of "money shots" actually filmed in the good ol' U.S. of A. Unlike many of his contemporaries, however, Ippolito never brings any sense of style or fun to his direction, relying instead on a TV-movie, point-and-shoot formula. Only during the final, POV-shot battle between Thelma and the "alpha" creature does the film seem to come alive. I really can't recommend this but, if you're anything like me, you're eventually going to see it, anyway. Alien fans will probably want to seek it out as a novelty (as I write this, I'm flanked by two giant action figures of the Giger-designed creature from the first movie, so I know what I'm talking about).
Dir: Ciro Ippolito
"...You may be next!"
If you liked Alien, but felt it spent too much time on stunning visuals, a genuinely unnerving creature and creating an air of dread, and too little time on interminable scenes of garage doors opening, cars stuck in traffic, bowling, outrageous 70s fashions and bad folk rock, have I fucking got a movie for you! Join me in the Basement of Sleaze for Alien 2: On Earth!
In a film that thrillingly dares to expand about 30 minutes worth of narrative into 93 minutes, we open on some glaringly-obvious stock footage of a space launch and are informed that the astronauts are returning to earth (the purpose of their mission and their destination are kept vague). We're then introduced to psychic speleologist Thelma (Belinda Mayne, Don't Open Til Christmas, Krull) and her boyfriend Roy (Mark Bodin, Anthropophagus). Thelma has weird visions and a bad feeling about the space mission, but is ignored by her creepy, Freudian professor to ignore the "monsters" around her. We then get to endure a half hour of Thelma and Roy driving around running errands, going bowling and visiting some Native Americans (none of which have any consequence to the plot), which is livened up only slightly by Thelma bearing her tits and Roy having awesome facial hair. After a little girl gets her face melted off by a piece of space debris (and admittedly ballsy scene), Thelma, Roy and some random friends decide to go spelunking in some nearby caves. At this point, the movie finally livens up, and our trapped-beneath-the-earth heroes are attacked by rock-borne, face-bursting alien creatures! The lethal little buggers look like nondescript bits of viscera that (apparently) have powerful hindquarters, as they're able to leap from victim to victim. Anyway, it turns out that our intrepid stock-footage astronauts from the beginning of the film came back as less-than-human and splashed down in an ocean near the caves (hence the little girl being killed earlier). As the little alien beasties pick off the heroes one-by-one, we're treated to all manner of decapitations, eyeball-gougings, face-meltings and other manner of bodily mutilation, with gore effects that certainly make up in enthusiasm and quantity what they lack in quality. It turns out that the creatures are ALSO capable of mimicking their victims (an idea cribbed from John Campbell's novella "The Thing" and which is discovered by psychic Thelma while the film does a sweet, pre-MTV wind tunnel effect with her feathered hair). Thelma and Roy manage to escape the caves into a deserted city, where Roy is killed and Thelma is forced to combat the creatures alone, with expectedly apocalyptic results.
The early 80s produced A LOT of Alien cash-ins and knockoffs (Corman produced at least a half-dozen) but, as far as I know, this Italian production was the only one with the cajones to brazenly pass itself off as an "official" sequel (six years before James Cameron's Aliens). 20th Century Fox sued, but the producers of this film won by claiming they were sequelizing a public-domain novel from the 30s also titled Alien; that's a level of sleaziness I can admire! Alien 2 is pretty typically of Italian ripoffsploitation flicks; it features gratuitous violence and nudity, poorly-ADRed dialogue, a pulsing synth score and mostly thinly-disguised foreign locales passed off as America, with only a couple of "money shots" actually filmed in the good ol' U.S. of A. Unlike many of his contemporaries, however, Ippolito never brings any sense of style or fun to his direction, relying instead on a TV-movie, point-and-shoot formula. Only during the final, POV-shot battle between Thelma and the "alpha" creature does the film seem to come alive. I really can't recommend this but, if you're anything like me, you're eventually going to see it, anyway. Alien fans will probably want to seek it out as a novelty (as I write this, I'm flanked by two giant action figures of the Giger-designed creature from the first movie, so I know what I'm talking about).
Monday, January 4, 2016
Entry 95: Angel (1984)
Angel (1984)
Dir: Robert Vincent O'Neill
"High school honor student by day. Hollywood hooker by night."
For my first entry of 2016, I'm paying a little visit to the down-and-out folks hanging out on Hollywood Boulevard. Join me now down in the Basement of Sleaze as I spend a little time with Angel.
Abandoned by her mother after the death of her father, teenaged Molly (Donna Wilkes, Jaws 2, Grotesque) leads a double life: by day, she's an honor roll high schooler, but by night she pays tuition and rent by slapping on heavy makeup and a miniskirt and prowls the streets of L.A. as underage prostitute Angel. After letting us get to know Angel and her surrogate "family:" bitchy drag queen Mae (Dick Shawn, The Producers, Young Warriors), slightly senile, cowboy-attired former western stuntman Kit Carson (Rory Calhoun, Motel Hell, Hell Comes to Frogtown), lesbian artist Solly (Susan Tyrrell, Forbidden Zone, Cry-Baby) and Chaplin-lookalike street performer Yo-Yo (frequent TV actor Steven M. Porter), we get down to the dirty meat of the story: a crazed killer (John Diehl, Joysticks, Stargate) is stalking the Boulevard and begins picking off Angel's ladies of the night "co-workers." Though promised protection by streetwise cop Cliff Gorman (Night of the Juggler, Ghost Dog), Angel still feels the need to pack some goddamn heat and purchases a hand cannon. After Diehl slaughters a police station full of cops and murders Mae to get to Angel, our badass practitioner of the oldest profession decides to take the law into her own hands with a little help from her oddball "family," leading to an unexpected but satisfying conclusion.
I fucking love this Corman-backed release; it's prime, grade-A 80s sleaze at its best! Heavily edited, it was a staple of late-night TV when I was growing up, which is where I first learned of it's existence. It's an oddball movie; half skid-row slice-of-life, half "action slasher" movie in the vein of 10 to Midnight or Blue Steel. O'Neill (The Psycho Lover, Blood Mania)'s direction is strictly TV-movie level, but he livens it up with a healthy dose of blood and boobs (the movie DOES have the good taste to keep underage Angel clothed) and some great, on-location footage of seedy, early-80s Hollywood Boulevard (there's a marquee advertising Return of the Jedi!). The performances are also first-fucking-rate, ranging from the genuinely great (Wilkes as the streetwise but troubled Angel, Shawn as the motherly Mae and, best of all, Calhoun as leathery old shitkicker Kit), to the unhinged (the great Tyrrell brings her usual manic intensity to her smallish landlord role) to the enjoyably kitschy (Gorman's cop sounds and looks like he's from New York, calls black people "nigros," and generally feels like he belongs in a movie at least twenty years older). Look for John Carpenter regular Peter Jason (They Live, Escape from L.A.) as a skeevy, pedophile "John ("You better be 14 or I'm throwing you back for being too old!")." Angel was a big hit for New World and spawned two sequels, which brought back Calhoun, Tyrrell and Porter, but had a different actress playing Angel each time.
Dir: Robert Vincent O'Neill
"High school honor student by day. Hollywood hooker by night."
For my first entry of 2016, I'm paying a little visit to the down-and-out folks hanging out on Hollywood Boulevard. Join me now down in the Basement of Sleaze as I spend a little time with Angel.
Abandoned by her mother after the death of her father, teenaged Molly (Donna Wilkes, Jaws 2, Grotesque) leads a double life: by day, she's an honor roll high schooler, but by night she pays tuition and rent by slapping on heavy makeup and a miniskirt and prowls the streets of L.A. as underage prostitute Angel. After letting us get to know Angel and her surrogate "family:" bitchy drag queen Mae (Dick Shawn, The Producers, Young Warriors), slightly senile, cowboy-attired former western stuntman Kit Carson (Rory Calhoun, Motel Hell, Hell Comes to Frogtown), lesbian artist Solly (Susan Tyrrell, Forbidden Zone, Cry-Baby) and Chaplin-lookalike street performer Yo-Yo (frequent TV actor Steven M. Porter), we get down to the dirty meat of the story: a crazed killer (John Diehl, Joysticks, Stargate) is stalking the Boulevard and begins picking off Angel's ladies of the night "co-workers." Though promised protection by streetwise cop Cliff Gorman (Night of the Juggler, Ghost Dog), Angel still feels the need to pack some goddamn heat and purchases a hand cannon. After Diehl slaughters a police station full of cops and murders Mae to get to Angel, our badass practitioner of the oldest profession decides to take the law into her own hands with a little help from her oddball "family," leading to an unexpected but satisfying conclusion.
I fucking love this Corman-backed release; it's prime, grade-A 80s sleaze at its best! Heavily edited, it was a staple of late-night TV when I was growing up, which is where I first learned of it's existence. It's an oddball movie; half skid-row slice-of-life, half "action slasher" movie in the vein of 10 to Midnight or Blue Steel. O'Neill (The Psycho Lover, Blood Mania)'s direction is strictly TV-movie level, but he livens it up with a healthy dose of blood and boobs (the movie DOES have the good taste to keep underage Angel clothed) and some great, on-location footage of seedy, early-80s Hollywood Boulevard (there's a marquee advertising Return of the Jedi!). The performances are also first-fucking-rate, ranging from the genuinely great (Wilkes as the streetwise but troubled Angel, Shawn as the motherly Mae and, best of all, Calhoun as leathery old shitkicker Kit), to the unhinged (the great Tyrrell brings her usual manic intensity to her smallish landlord role) to the enjoyably kitschy (Gorman's cop sounds and looks like he's from New York, calls black people "nigros," and generally feels like he belongs in a movie at least twenty years older). Look for John Carpenter regular Peter Jason (They Live, Escape from L.A.) as a skeevy, pedophile "John ("You better be 14 or I'm throwing you back for being too old!")." Angel was a big hit for New World and spawned two sequels, which brought back Calhoun, Tyrrell and Porter, but had a different actress playing Angel each time.
Friday, January 1, 2016
Entry 94: New Year's Evil (1980)
New Year's Evil (1980)
Dir: Emmett Alston
"A celebration of the macabre."
Goddamn...2015, huh? It was a pretty good one for me: I celebrated a year of Mrs. Basement of Sleaze being tolerant and patient enough to marry me, I married off four fantastic fucking friends, I met the great Lance Henriksen and I lit my hair on fire for the first time! Also, Fury Road, It Follows and a fucking great new Star Wars movie! I don't make New Year's resolutions, but I'm hoping to spend a little more time here in 2016, watching and writing about gems from the back roads of cinema. January will be a catch-up month, where I'll write about a few flicks I've watched recently but couldn't find the time to write up and February, because I demanded it, will see the return of Fuck Flick February, where I'll spend time with some more classics from the golden age of adult cinema. But enough about the future; let's focus on the now! Okay, New Year's Eve party-goers, wipe the puke off your shirts, grab another beer, turn off that insipid rock n' roll countdown you're watching and join me in the Basement of Sleaze for New Year's Evil!
Aging new wave singer Blaze (Roz Kelly, American Pop, Full Moon High) is hosting the "New Year's Evil" countdown, sponsored by Hawaii's Hollywood Hotline, a televised, punk & new wave themed end-of-the-year bash. A weirdo calling himself "Evil" calls in to the show and informs Blaze that he's going to kill someone close to her at midnight. While great-looking 80's punkers mosh to the countdown acts, Blaze ignores the warnings of her mentally-unbalanced son (Grant Kramer, Hardbodies, Killer Klowns from Outer Space) and seeks help from put-upon cop Lt. Clayton (Chris Wallace, Don't Answer the Phone, Body & Soul). Meanwhile, "Evil" (Kip Niven, Earthquake, Damnation Alley) carves up a nurse at nearby Crawford Sanitarium, then puts on a disguise and heads to a local singles' bar. At this point, the movie kind of lost me, because "Evil's" "disguise" consists of slicked-back hair, a glorious mustache, a grey leisure suit and a (mostly unbuttoned) large-collar dress shirt. I know the filmmakers were intending me to root against this remorseless killer, but goddamn, I want to BE that guy! After (unfortunately) removing his fake mustache, "Evil" kills his singles' bar pick-up via strangulation with a plastic bag, then leaves her strung up on a swing set for the cops to find. "Evil" next chooses to impersonate a priest, and gets chased into a drive-in showing Blood Feast by a gaggle of angry bikers after he trashes their hogs! Of course, it turns out that "Evil" is Blaze's ex-husband, and he's punishing her for a life of indiscretion. Can she (and Lt. Clayton) stop the killer?
Produced in the wake of the success of Friday the 13th, New Year's Evil was produced by Cannon Films during the tenure of the mighty Golan-Globus, and it's a consummate cash-in, right down to the score, which replicates Harry Manfredini's famous Friday "chee-chee-chee-chee-ah-ah-ah-ah" theme. It's also surprisingly (and disappointingly) free of gore and nudity. What sets it apart is it's middle-aged female lead and it's lack of a masked killer; in this film, we're introduced to "Evil" early on, and he's an ordinary (handsome, even) guy. It's also surprisingly character-driven (Blaze and her tendency to ignore/discard those around her drive the action), but tends to wallow in the misogyny that other slasher pics were accused of endorsing ("Evil" commits his murders because he feels "castrated" by the successful Blaze). It also features some great goddamn music (supplied by local Hawaiian new wave/punk bands, none of whom made it bigger than this film), and great footage of somewhat-seedy 1980's Hawaii (can you think of another goddamn slasher movie set on "The Islands?"). New Year's Evil is well worth a look for slasher fans looking for something a little offbeat. Happy goddamn New Year, everybody!
Dir: Emmett Alston
"A celebration of the macabre."
Goddamn...2015, huh? It was a pretty good one for me: I celebrated a year of Mrs. Basement of Sleaze being tolerant and patient enough to marry me, I married off four fantastic fucking friends, I met the great Lance Henriksen and I lit my hair on fire for the first time! Also, Fury Road, It Follows and a fucking great new Star Wars movie! I don't make New Year's resolutions, but I'm hoping to spend a little more time here in 2016, watching and writing about gems from the back roads of cinema. January will be a catch-up month, where I'll write about a few flicks I've watched recently but couldn't find the time to write up and February, because I demanded it, will see the return of Fuck Flick February, where I'll spend time with some more classics from the golden age of adult cinema. But enough about the future; let's focus on the now! Okay, New Year's Eve party-goers, wipe the puke off your shirts, grab another beer, turn off that insipid rock n' roll countdown you're watching and join me in the Basement of Sleaze for New Year's Evil!
Aging new wave singer Blaze (Roz Kelly, American Pop, Full Moon High) is hosting the "New Year's Evil" countdown, sponsored by Hawaii's Hollywood Hotline, a televised, punk & new wave themed end-of-the-year bash. A weirdo calling himself "Evil" calls in to the show and informs Blaze that he's going to kill someone close to her at midnight. While great-looking 80's punkers mosh to the countdown acts, Blaze ignores the warnings of her mentally-unbalanced son (Grant Kramer, Hardbodies, Killer Klowns from Outer Space) and seeks help from put-upon cop Lt. Clayton (Chris Wallace, Don't Answer the Phone, Body & Soul). Meanwhile, "Evil" (Kip Niven, Earthquake, Damnation Alley) carves up a nurse at nearby Crawford Sanitarium, then puts on a disguise and heads to a local singles' bar. At this point, the movie kind of lost me, because "Evil's" "disguise" consists of slicked-back hair, a glorious mustache, a grey leisure suit and a (mostly unbuttoned) large-collar dress shirt. I know the filmmakers were intending me to root against this remorseless killer, but goddamn, I want to BE that guy! After (unfortunately) removing his fake mustache, "Evil" kills his singles' bar pick-up via strangulation with a plastic bag, then leaves her strung up on a swing set for the cops to find. "Evil" next chooses to impersonate a priest, and gets chased into a drive-in showing Blood Feast by a gaggle of angry bikers after he trashes their hogs! Of course, it turns out that "Evil" is Blaze's ex-husband, and he's punishing her for a life of indiscretion. Can she (and Lt. Clayton) stop the killer?
Produced in the wake of the success of Friday the 13th, New Year's Evil was produced by Cannon Films during the tenure of the mighty Golan-Globus, and it's a consummate cash-in, right down to the score, which replicates Harry Manfredini's famous Friday "chee-chee-chee-chee-ah-ah-ah-ah" theme. It's also surprisingly (and disappointingly) free of gore and nudity. What sets it apart is it's middle-aged female lead and it's lack of a masked killer; in this film, we're introduced to "Evil" early on, and he's an ordinary (handsome, even) guy. It's also surprisingly character-driven (Blaze and her tendency to ignore/discard those around her drive the action), but tends to wallow in the misogyny that other slasher pics were accused of endorsing ("Evil" commits his murders because he feels "castrated" by the successful Blaze). It also features some great goddamn music (supplied by local Hawaiian new wave/punk bands, none of whom made it bigger than this film), and great footage of somewhat-seedy 1980's Hawaii (can you think of another goddamn slasher movie set on "The Islands?"). New Year's Evil is well worth a look for slasher fans looking for something a little offbeat. Happy goddamn New Year, everybody!
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