Final Girl Film Club! Chuck Norris is Hellbound!

So it's totally time for another installment of the Final Girl Film Club over at that wonderful Final Girl place on the internet.  I missed the last go round, and when I saw that the next option was the soft-R-rated quasi-episode of Walker: Texas Ranger that pits Chuck Norris vs. Satan; I was kinda afraid I was being punished.  Alas, I rode forth, undeterred, crashing headlong into the following review.

Hellbound
1994, Dir. by Aaron Norris.

As you can tell by the poster to the left, Chicago cop Frank Shatter is a tough-as-nails fellow who's a lot like Chuck Norris.  He's also got a dreadlocked partner named Jackson who loves to make jokes about playing "good cop, bad cop" (which basically makes him that one friend that every one of us has who picks one joke that they think is hilarious and rides it for the rest of eternity).  Speaking of eternity, an evil force - Prosatanus, who is kinda a spawn of Satan and kinda Satan himself (Yeah, like anyone'd ever believe that argument) - who's survived some random events of 1168 and 1951 and randomly shows up in present day Chicago.  I think this is only because he wants to disrupt Jackson's ability to see the Bulls' playoff games. 

Anyway, the evil dude (who's extraordinarily creepy looking and portrayed by Christopher Neame) partakes in a bit of ripping out hearts and throwing them at Chuck Norris..errr, Detective Shatter.  Then, he disappears, and the cops head to Israel to track him down, with the help of that big haired blonde lady from Walker: Texas Ranger.

For a tough-nosed cop versus demonic-apocalypse-bringer film, Hellbound struggles to succeed at any of the things you'd expect to see.  In fact, there aren't even enough roundhouse kicks for my tastes, and the film stars FREAKING CHUCK NORRIS.  It seems that the Norris clan, with little brother Aaron in the director's chair, didn't quite want to sell out and make a dark satanic film, as this plays like a cross between that Walker show and what I'd imagine an Asylum produced version of The Mummy would have looked like.  In the action star vs. devil subgenre, Hellbound makes End of Days look like a masterpiece.  (Although, you don't have to sell me on End of Days, I kinda have a guilty love for it.  There, I said it.)

That's not to say there's not fun to be had at the expense of Hellbound.  Norris' beard is as fantastic as ever, and when the roundhouse kicks do hit, they hit hard.  Jackson, the sidekick played by Calvin Levels of Adventures in Babysitting fame, is truly a horribly written character (with Whoopi Goldberg's hair, to boot) that provides some laughable dialogue.  I already mentioned his "good cop bad jokes", but there are also plenty of awful "stereotypical yelling and being sarcastic" moments where the timid sidekick gets to say things like "Why don't you just cut my nuts off with a dull-ass butter knife?"  Oh, there's also the obligatory "it's a dark castle, so let's make a Dracula reference" moment, too.

Hellbound succeeds most - in a bad way - when making Norris and friends question the ludicrous plot.  When they finally meet a priest, the tough detective gets to deadpan a question about "this Prostanus, or whatever you want to call him", and when he's told that the return of said Prosatanus could bring about judgment day, Norris then chimes in "Judgment Day?", which allows the priest to ramble more about Armageddon and "hell on earth" - which then allows Jackson to make another snide comment.  The fact that this police sergeant has to put on a puzzled face and question what Judgment Day might mean plays right into one of my favorite things about B movies - "smart", heroic characters expressing no knowledge of concepts that most humans learn about at age three. 

The problem is, when the person making those silly remarks is Chuck Norris - who spends less than five of the film's ninety minutes roundhouse kicking demons or demonic heralds - it adds up to missed potential in my mind.  Such a shame.

(But don't take my word for it!  Head on over to Final Girl on Monday the 30th, and check out some other takes on the film from some of the best bloggers/writers in the history of ever!)

Midnight Movie of the Week #34 - Raw Meat

If you plan on reading the rest of this review - in which I will talk about what's most definitely my favorite underground cannibals in the London underground movie of the 1970s - I strongly recommend scrolling down to the bottom of this post and clicking play to hear what's most definitely one of the most funktastic horror themes of all-time.  Believe me, it'll set the mood.  Then come back up here, of course.

Now that we've established that, and now that you've been soothed by some pulsating tones and a tangy cymbal, let's talk about Raw Meat, aka Death Line.  The directorial debut of Gary Sherman - who went on to direct two other midnight movie faves of mine (Dead and Buried & Vice Squad) - tells the tale of an American student and his girlfriend who insist upon being inside London's tube stations late at night.  They forget to mind the gap, however, and this gap happens to be inhabited by those underground cannibals I mentioned above.

Also involved in the plot is an eccentric tea-loving Inspector, played by Donald Pleasence, assisted by a detective sergeant played by Norman Rossington.  While I love Pleasence in almost everything, I feel very comfortable saying that this is the most fun I've ever seen him having on screen.  It's a goofy persona - offset by a cameo by the great Christopher Lee as a mustached rival MI5 agent - that allows Pleasence plenty of opportunities to ham it up.  There's a lot of comedy involving his character, and it adds a lot of charm to the film.

The meat of the film - pun intended - comes in the methodical and sweeping scenes where we follow the hungry residents of the underground caverns; modern day cave dwellers who have to trap their food to stay alive.  These segments are filled with silence, as the camera slowly tracks the scenery and uncovers the grisly scenes of their crimes.  The images captured are bloody and graphic, setting a dark tone for the film.  (Click here for a prime example that I think is a little too graphic to throw up on this PG-13 site).

The rest of the movie follows that American student and his girlfriend, who are relatively oblivious to the possibilities below them.  They're entitled people in an entitled land - the type of people who don't want to see The French Connection because it's "too violent" - who have no idea that there's anything unsettling living below them.  The duo - played by David Ladd and Sharon Gurney - aren't the most interesting characters (though Gurney's huge hair is fantastic) but their part of the story is essential to set up the doubt in Pleasence's inspector's mind.

As the film slowly moves to its final act (if there is a complaint that can be made against Raw Meat, it's the film's pacing) the paths of the Inspector, the teens, and the cannibals - of course - cross paths.  The finale, like the earlier scenes in the underground, builds quietly and slowly to a likeable final moment. 

Raw Meat is an odd duck in the '70s horror scene.  It's not Hammer, it's not Amicus, and it's not Hollywood or grindhouse.  But there's a charm in it that catches my eye, which starts with that groovy theme and spreads through Pleasence and Lee's performances and the underground darkness.  I can't entirely defend the film as a horror masterpiece, but I always find some kind of connection with its unique chills and laughs.  As far as '70s Cult movies go, this one's my funky brethren.

And, just in case you need it after that awesome theme, here's the trailer. 

Midnight Top Five - Why Hasn't That Clockwork Orange Movie Been Mentioned in FMWL's '70s Cult Project?

When FMWL's '70s Cult Project began as a simple discussion on a social networking site, one of the first films that came up when I asked others for the most essential cult films of the 1970s was Stanley Kubrick's A Clockwork Orange.  I must admit, I'd have never thought to consider this film on my own.  The reason for that, as awful as it is to admit, is because I hadn't ever gotten around to seeing that movie.

You hopefully noticed the past tense in that past statement, because tonight I - finally - resolved that issue.  While I admit that Kubrick just isn't entirely my thing (not to cut on the guy, who had immense talent...I'm just a Hitchcock guy...this heart's not big enough for both of 'em), I was taken by the nightmarish qualities of this one and found myself enthralled for most of the film's second half.  And yet, at the end of the day, I wondered...why aren't we listing this among the cult movies of that decade?  To answer, let's take a look at five factors I've come up with.

(By the way, I have to admit that this is one of those few movies that I've intentionally avoided reading about throughout my career as a film fan.  I wanted to go into it fresh, and I definitely achieved that.  So I apologize if anything I say here is a bit obtuse. I am completely a Clockwork N00B.)

The Director - I don't think I'm breaking new ground when I call Stanley Kubrick one of the most respected, lauded, and loved directors in cinematic history.  And there aren't many who initially connect that with the "cult" film scene.  Like some of the most popular '70s films - Taxi Driver comes to mind - the director's name and long-term reputation has lifted this one out of that conversation.

The Beethoven - I don't know, maybe I'm wrong on this one.  But Kubrick's use of Ludwig Von as a plot point seems to give the film some instant credibility.  Plus there's the Singin' in the Rain bits added in later, too.  To some, the use of such lauded mainstream music could be seen as a subversion, which moves the film more toward a cult audience, and I get that.  But it still reminded me of the "big time" forces behind the movie, particularly the fact that studio giant Warner Bros. was behind this whole thing the whole time.

The Cast - Or perhaps the lack thereof.  While Malcolm McDowell has become a minor cult figure over the decades, A Clockwork Orange has a cast that pales in comparison to many of the cult classics of this decade.  I have to wonder - what if Vincent Price, Christopher Lee, or Peter Cushing were added to this cast?  Would it have more of a cult following?  I think it probably would.  Without any of the beloved B-Movie A-Listers of the era, Kubrick's film again slips into a different conversation.

The Competition - The easiest argument to make in regard to most bloggers disregarding Kubrick's film in this discussion is the one in favor of the films it's competing with it.  This is a near two-and-a-half hour film that's an event to watch, while the '70s are full of 80-100 minute audience pleasers with similar amounts of violence, sleaze, dystopia, and sex.  A Clockwork Orange does play like an essential film, but it doesn't seem like the film a rabid fanbase would pick as their fallback favorite when there are so many other options.

The Reputation - OK, maybe this point is a sum-up of what I've discussed so far.  But the fact remains.  A Clockwork Orange might have been viewed as a cult sensation when it debuted, but its legend has grown exponentially during the past 40 years.  Like Taxi Driver or the unstoppable force known as Star Wars, this is simply a film whose influence and presence in the story of cinema grew too big for the cult label.  While the cult shoe might fit Kubrick's film's plot, the final product is expected to wear something a bit more classy these days.  It's a cinematic rags to riches story.  That's not a bad thing (it's a fantastic film that's worthy of the praise it receives), and I can understand and respect these reasons for fans of genre cinema to slip away from it and into some less known favorites. 

Did I miss your reasons for feeling the same way?  If so, you know where to comment!  Meanwhile, at The Mike Cave, I'm gonna ponder this one further.  Be well, my droogs.

'70s Cult Project: Part Two - To The Devil a Switchblade Sister Who Dreaded Sundown with a Kansas City Bomber

Wait, what?  I know, I know.  Quickie review posts are so lame.  But I've been watching way too many "cult" flicks from the '70s lately to give them each their own review.  So, let's move forward with some capsule reviews of the flicks I've been making sweet love to lately.

(Ok, maybe there was no sweet love making. But they're at least flicks I've been watching lately.)

Kansas City Bomber (1972, Dir. by Jerrold Freedman.)

There are some really obvious reasons to love a movie in which Raquel Welch wears the outfit you see in that poster (there is soooo no good reason for the zipper to be that low, and I love that about it) while skating and fighting.  Plus one of my favorite fellows, Piranha/Invasion of the Body Snatchers/UHF star Kevin McCarthy co-stars as the snaky owner of the roller derby team which Welch dominates (which, in the interest of full disclosure, is in Portland - not Kansas City).

But really, I kinda love Kansas City Bomber's brand of cheese.  It's got overly dramatic subplots which include, but are not limited to: an overly aggressive yet simple minded and sweet brute, a "this town's not big enough for both of us" feud, and a commentary on the sensibilities of living on a teammate's houseboat while the owner makes the moves on you.  Oh, and it all starts with Welch facing off with an overweight, mullet-sporting woman in a "match-race" that turns into a fist fight.  Yeah, really.  Let me reiterate -  If you ever wanted a movie where Raquel Welch fights a fat woman with a mullet on skates, this one's totally for you.

The Town That Dreaded Sundown (1976, Dir. by Charles B. Pierce.) 


Despite its rather modest reputation (I honestly only knew about it because of that one line of dialogue in Scream), I had really high hopes for this one.  So, I must admit, I was slightly disappointed when I saw the final product.  It was just one of those things that could just never really live up to that pedestal that the gnomes inside my mind had placed it on.


That said, I liked this movie.  At times it felt like I was watching a feature length re-enactment from Unsolved Mysteries (narrator Vern Stierman deserved an Oscar, or something), which - to me -  is a good thing.  Ben Johnson chews up the scenery as the police officer leading the charge against this bagheaded killer, and it was nice to see Gilligan's Island babe Dawn Wells (Side note: I'd still pick Ginger.  I mean, how could you not pick Ginger?  I've never understood that.  Mary Anne is nice.  Ginger is to hotness as The Blob is to blobness.) show up as one of the victims.  


The most interesting thing about The Town That Dreaded Sundown is most certainly its connection to the slasher films that would follow in its footsteps in the decade that followed.  The killer's image certainly draws comparisons to Jason's look in Friday the 13th Part 2, and there are some weird and inventive moments (I do not understand the purpose of that trombone scene, except that it's awesome) that remind of films like The Prowler or Graduation Day.  One of the final attacks, involving a window surprise, will stick with me for a long, long time.  


It's sad that the whole thing just doesn't seem to click thanks to some pacing issues and some weird attempts at humor (what was the deal with Keystone Cops wannabes in the '70s?).  But it's really good at times, and I'm looking forward to seeing it again.

Switchblade Sisters (aka, The Jezebels) (1975, Dir. by Jack Hill.)


There are many dilemmas in a man's life.  One of the most difficult of these is the dilemma that occurs when a badass female lead character in a film is both a) cute and b) grating.  Thus is the case with Robbie Lee, who stars in Switchblade Sisters as the hard-nosed leader of "The Dagger Debs", Lace.  Luckily, she's challenged by a street smart babe in short shorts named Maggie (Joanne Nail) who is both a) cute and b) NOT grating.  Plus, she's backed up by an eye patch wearing pal, adequately named Patch (Monica Gayle).  (Personally, I was most interested in the tortured "fat" girl of the gang, Donut, played by the saucy-named Kitty Bruce.)


Attractiveness of alleged teen gang members aside, Switchblade Sisters offered a large dose of '70s cheese, complete with a ton of cool music and clothes.  But Ms. Lee's whiny voice and temper tantrums kind of drove me crazy at times.  Hill had made better bad babe movies in the '70s (Coffy and Foxy Brown come to mind) with the assistance of THE Pamela Grier.  While Switchblade Sisters is fun most of the time, it never clicked like those movies did for me.  And Lee's whinnies will keep me away from revisiting this one for a while, as sad as that sounds.

To The Devil A Daughter (1976, Dir. by Peter Sykes.)


These movies keep getting worse as this post goes on.  Tragic, really, because considering how much I love Hammer's adaptation of The Devil Rides Out (totally the most underrated horror film of all-time, I kid you not) by Dennis Wheatley, I was hoping this adaptation wasn't going to be as bad as its reputation.  For those who don't know, To The Devil a Daughter was - until their recent revival - the last film produced by the legendary Hammer studios. 


The film starts, shockingly with Christopher Lee - Dracula himself - wearing the robe of a priest.  I must admit, I checked my pulse.  Alas, it turns out Lee's priest is involved in "the black arts", and he ends up feuding with an author (Richard Widmark, totally slumming it) over the fate of a young girl (16 year old Nastassja Kinski, who goes full frontal anyway).  The film also features Indiana Jones' Denholm Elliott and Honor Blackman, which makes it one of the few films I've ever seen that features both full frontal nudity and Pussy Galore.


And, despite all that...it's terribly boring.  Where The Devil Rides Out had cheesiness and campy performances, this one has Widmark and Lee blabbering on and on about the demon Astaroth and some silly scenes in which winds come out of nowhere.  Yes, deadly winds inside a church.  Boo hoo, not scary.  I'm so glad Hammer came back, because if this had been their final hour, I might have just cried a lot.


So....that's where I'm at in the '70s Cult Project after a very eventful weekend.  Will any of these movies make my list of The Most Essential Cult Films of the 1970s?  Will my list be able to stand up to the awesome lists posted recently by bloggers from all corners of the cyber-globe?  Stay tuned to FMWL all week for these answers, and more!

'70s Cult Project Update! The Lists are Rolling In! Exclamation Point!

Last week, I laid down the Midnight Warriors challenge to readers and bloggers everywhere, and I'm ecstatic to say that my cries for help haven't gone unnoticed.  Through the first week of what's now become known as FMWL's '70s Cult Project, several fine folks have posted and/or sent in their own lists of what they find to be The Most Essential Cult Films of the 1970s.  I could keep blabbering about how great it is to see these lists before me, but I'll let them do most of the talking from here on out.

First, here's a list of the fine folks who've created lists at their own blogs, complete with links so you can all see how awesome they are!

First up is the wonderful Petunia Scareum, aka Trick or Treat Pete, from Deadly Serious.  It's clear to see that she took this challenge...well...deadly seriously.  Head on over to check out her list, which leads off with Walter Hill's gang-battle classic The Warriors!

Next up, returning for another tour of duty as a Midnight Warrior, is the fabulous Morgan of The Kid in the Hall!  Check out her list, which plows straight into my heart with that dose of PJ Soles and The Ramones known as Rock 'n Roll High School!

Another repeat Midnight Warrior, and all around rockstar, is Jinx from Totally Jinxed!  She's got a supreme list up at her blog, which leads with John Waters' still-unseen-by-me (insert shame here) Pink Flamingos!  (I will see this some day...it looks totally Devine!)

If those lists aren't sick enough for you, here comes a fella whose depravity knows no bounds!  That's right, it's Joe Monster of From Beyond Depraved, who has his own list of cult treasures up, with that Time Warp treasure The Rocky Horror Picture Show taking top honors! 

The last blogger to post their own list thus far (that I know of, if you've done this and I missed you please let me know!), is the wicked cool Stonerphonic of Borderline!  Unlike myself, he saw those '70s happen, and has prepared his own detailed list which is headlined by another movie I know little about (insert more shame here), Stone! (After reading his post on it, I gotta see it!)

I know, I know.  That's A LOT of awesome '70s cult movies for you all to read about thus far.  BUT WAIT, THERE'S MORE!  People can email me their lists too!

Such was the case for the extremely thorough Brandon Sites of Big Daddy Horror Reviews (who just celebrated his 1000th post!!), as he emailed me this listing of his five picks:

5. George A. Romero's Martin - This is the film Romero has said he is most proud of. Has finally started to get a following all these years later due to Lionsgate giving the film a good DVD push.
4. Black Christmas - A classic with horror fans, but people who aren't die hard fans of the genre don't know about this film, even after the remake!
3. The Stepford Wives - It's hard to believe, but yes this film does fit the definitions of a cult movie to a T. The film was originally a flop when it was released and took a beating from critics. After a ton of TV followups, the Stepford Wife moniker has become a modern day pop culture reference, which has ensured this film a loyal following from a select audience.
2. Ruby - The film was forgotten about for the longest time as the film's producers re-edited the film several times behind the director's back. With the DVD release of the uncut version, the film has started to build a following again with genre fans. It was Piper Laurie's followup film after Carrie. I think this film featured elements that helped define 70's horror - a sleazy kind of quality to the film, drive-ins, possession plots, the supernatural, revenge, respected film stars of the past turning to horror to keep their career alive, etc.
1. Massacre At Central High - Fell by the wayside, because the film's distributor had no idea how to market the film, despite critical praise and it being embraced by genre fans. Heathers went on to rip this film off.

The last fine fellow to partake of this challenge thus far (again, to my knowledge, smack me upside the cyber-head if I missed you!) is the phenomenal B-Sol of The Vault of Horror, who sent me this simple, yet-effective, listing of some cult films he finds essential:

5. Faces of Death
4. Slap Shot
3. Eraserhead
2. Harold & Maude
1. The Texas Chain Saw Massacre

So, we've got seven lists thus far, and seven different picks for the Most Essential Cult Film of the 1970s!  Luckily, there are still EIGHT MORE DAYS to get your own lists posted or sent in!  In the meantime, you should thank all these fine folks for their help with this little project by hitting up their blogs and enjoying their respective brands of awesome!

While you all do that, I'll be continuing my own journey through the '70s Cult Project here at FMWL all week, so stay tuned for a bunch of stuff on a bunch of films (including my personal Top 5, which should be posted next weekend)!  Again, many thanks to all these fine folks for chipping in!

I Love Elisabeth Shue (Also, Piranha 3D)

(2010, Dir. by Alexandre Aja)

I totally love Elisabeth Shue.  Just sayin'.

Now that we're past that, let's talk about Piranha 3D (the on-screen title, thankfully, is just Piranha), the latest horror remake to hit the seas.  It's a film that's created to showcase the three things listed on the poster - Sea, Sex, and Blood - and it succeeds entirely in those regards.

This is most definitely not a straight remake of Joe Dante's 1978 film, as the government subplot has been replaced by a seismic event which opens an underwater lake full of carnivorous fish.  Also gone are the summer camp and children - replaced by Spring Break and crazy teens - and Bradford Dillman's impressive beard - replaced by Adam Scott's not so manly scruff.  Also added to the story are a thinly veiled Girls Gone Wild knock-off  (in fact, it's so thinly veiled that GGW creator Joe Francis might be suing the filmmakers) led by Jerry O'Connell and a team of models and pornstars turned "actresses"; a teen relationship featuring the unfortunately named Steven R. McQueen; and the female sheriff in charge played by my beloved Ms. Shue. 

Perhaps the biggest surprise to me was the fact that the film, whose ad campaign focused so much energy on the amount of carnage that would occur, is much more restrained than I expected.  This might have to do with the fact that there are only so many ways you can have a pack of killer mutant fish attack partying imbeciles, but the film takes a lot of time setting up the situations characters are in before the "money shot" attack occurs at the Spring Break festivities.  An especially large amount of time is spent with McQueen's Jake and his love interest (Jessica Szohr) while they tag along with the Wild Wild Girls crew.  This allows for plenty of nudity (including an extended skinny dipping session that shows every bit of the exhibitionist gals), but seems a little like filler while we wait for the fish to feed.

When the blood does start to pour, it's pretty impressive.  The practical gore effects are extraordinary, and my jaw dropped during scenes when bloodied victims were being pulled out of the infested waters.  Exposed skin becomes a road map of bloody wounds, and it's easy to see that Howard Berger and Greg Nicotero - two of the true wizards of their craft - didn't cut any corners in making each victim a bloody spectacle.  The CGI used for the piranha isn't great, but also doesn't distract from the film much (though there is an unfortunately silly moment with a CGI penis that reeks of pre-pubescent humor). 

Piranha 3D might have a few more lulls than I hoped for - and the wonderful Ving Rhames is criminally underused - but it never seems dull.  The cast members each seem to show an understanding of what they're working with and offer fine performances that meet the film's needs.  Cameo appearances from Richard Dreyfuss, Christopher Lloyd, and Eli Roth each add to the film's charm.  (Of course, Elisabeth Shue is by far the most charming part of the film.)

Despite its sensational reputation this far, I never felt like Piranha 3D lost focus on what it was trying to do as a cheesy bit of summer fun.  Aja and company didn't need to do much to make this idea work - it's basically a build up to one gigantic attack and a finale - but they kept things simple in plot and used their resources to add in the unique touches in gore and nudity that have built that reputation.  The result is a film that's ridiculous, yet refreshing; a film that it's easy for me to recommend to anyone who wants a gory good time.

Plus, it stars Elisabeth Shue.  And I love Elisabeth Shue.

Midnight Movie of the Week #33 - Piranha

With the '70s Cult Project well underway, and with the 3D remake due out this weekend, there has never been a better time for me to take a look at the 1978 piece of fantasticness known as Piranha.  While I'm entirely excited to see this remake - I love my Elisabeth Shue greatly - there's no way it'll ever steal the place in my heart that Joe Dante's original Jaws knock-off occupies.

Piranha stars Bradford Dillman, doing his best faux Charlton Heston, and Heather Menzies (as the standard "I'm a smart '70s woman who's not Margot Kidder in Superman" character); along with a supporting cast of all-time B movie heroes that includes Kevin McCarthy (Invasion of the Body Snatchers), Barbara Steele (Black Sunday), and Dick Miller (aka: Murray Futterman and/or Walter Paisley).  It also comes from a story and screenplay by none less than indie darling John Sayles, and Dante - who would go on to make a slew of loved films like The Howling, Gremlins, and The 'Burbs - directs.

The talent involved insures that Piranha - produced by legendary schlockmeister Roger Corman - won't drown in the wake of Spielberg's Jaws.  Though Piranha follows the same structure that Jaws did - late night victims, beach side attacks, resistance from those in power, etc. - Dante and Sayles' silly story of government funded mutations succeeds in creating a new adventure.  A lot of credit belongs to Steele, Keenan Wynn, and McCarthy for giving interesting performances that advances this side of the plot.  McCarthy, playing the scientist who lays out the details early in the film, is particularly memorable when he gets to shout at the screen like he did near the end of Invasion.

The action is fun too, despite the low budget effects.  I'd put a mid film attack on a summer camp - complete with a bloodied Paul Bartel tossing children on shore and a brave little girl taking to the sea in a Rudy moment - against anything I've seen in a B-horror film of this sort.  That little girl, who spends the first hour of the movie being terrified of the water, is completely one of the most amazing heroes in B-movie history, and I never get enough of the scene in which she - slowly - tries to take action.  There's never a dull moment once the carnage starts, though some of the entertainment comes from laughing at the odd editing which jumps between above water screams and the sounds of submerged buzzing piranha.

(Is the plural of piranha still piranha?  And also, while I'm asking questions, how sexy is it when Barbara Steele says Piranha with a y sound in the middle?  Piranya?  NICE.)

While I'm sure the upcoming remake will offer more blood, breasts (But will anyone say "Look, up in the sky!  It's Superman!"?), and kills than this film did, but there's a lot to be said for what Dante, Sayles, and crew pulled off here.  They managed to borrow from one of the most popular movies of their era (which would grow up to remain one of the most popular movies of all-time), not get spat upon by fans too much, and make a movie that remained a cult classic in its own right for more than 30 years.  In modern terms, this would be like Rob Zombie making a new version of The Dark Knight which features a whole gang of white trash Jokers - you just don't expect it to work.  (Of course, Rob Zombie doesn't have one millionth the creativity of any of Dante, Corman, or Sayles, so let's move on.)

So while I'll be checking out that remake this weekend - primarily because I love you, Elisabeth Shue - I'm glad I took some time to revisit the original Piranya (I sure hope Elisabeth says it that way...In Asylum Pictures terms, I'll MEGA SWOON!) tale in the meantime.  They really don't make 'em this fun anymore.

'70s Cult Project: Part One - I Spit on Billy Jack in 60 Seconds

By now, all you lovely readers who are absolutely smitten by this blog know about the latest call to action I've posed, regarding my quest to find the most essential cult films of the 1970s.  If you don't know, read this.  Whilst others are coming up with their picks, I've been doing some work to swim through some of the cult films of said decade that I've either a) missed thus far, or b) wanted to revisit for whatever reason.  Thus, I recently powered through three cult films of the decade, and will now discuss them...here.

First up, I finally took a look at the reviled rape and revenge romp I Spit on Your Grave (aka Day of the Woman).  I'd let this one slip past me for years - the same way I skipped the more accessible The Last House on the Left until the last couple of years - because I wasn't quite sure horrors based on "The Big R" were my cup of tea.  It was only after searching through horror blogs (including one that's totally named after the movie) that I started to consider that there might be some merit to the film.

If you don't know it, ISOYG/DOTW stars the lovely Camille Keaton as a writer who heads to a quiet, secluded cabin to work on a book.  She draws the attention of some local boys who just wanna have fun (This was the '70s, Cyndi Lauper hadn't taken "wanna-ing to have fun" for girls yet), mainly by getting on that girl.  What follows is an extended series of rapes, which end in the weakest member of the group leaving Ms. Keaton's character alive.  She recovers and plots her revenge.  Considering her methods, I'm convinced that she misheard that old Klingon proverb as 'Revenge is a dish best served nude'.

There are some brutal and memorable scenes in the film, but I've still never understood some of the tactics in these rape and revenge flicks of the decade.  I can see the reason for Keaton's character to use her feminine wiles to help achieve her revenge against her attackers, but she takes this to an extreme that's slightly unbelievable.  If I was attempting to get revenge on a slew of rapists, I wouldn't spend so much time sexing them up.

I Spit on Your Grave delivers what you'd expect from such a revered "subversive" film.  I can't imagine it's going to have much replay value for me, but I admired its willingness to be bold and stick to its guns.  Keaton is a strong presence in the lead, which helps make this one memorable and effective in most regards.

The second cult flick I sat down with this week was the Native American gone angry flick Billy Jack.  I must say, this movie did very little for me.  It's aged very poorly and seems to go on for far too long.  Tom Laughlin's titular character is presented well, but the events surrounding him seemed too drawn out at times.

The plot focuses on a native american "school" which Billy Jack is protecting from the white man, and far too much time is spent inside this school with musical assemblies and dramatic recreations of pot smoking.  There's some rape in this one too (Were the '70s the first decade when rapes happened, or something?), and it all boils down to a moral dilemma instead of an action scene.  I know, that was the message of the movie, but I wasn't buying it.  This was a microcosm of that time in society, and I just don't think it translates to today's viewers.  (Also, this apparently was a sequel and spawned two more sequels?  Really?  I just assumed it went along with that crying Indian commercial.)

(Side comment as I look below where I'm typing - How ridiculously cool are these '70s movie posters?  OMG, I want them.)

Lastly, I checked out H.B. Halicki's original, Nic Cage-less, Gone in 60 Seconds.  Now this....this is the kind of flick I can get behind.  I'd heard it featured the longest car chase in cinema history (it sure did!), but I was surprised how much I enjoyed the plot behind the film and some of the side events along the way to that super-chase.  If you've seen the big budget remake, the original has basically the same plot - a bunch of "professional" car thieves have to acquire a list of vehicles and deliver them to the docks by a certain time - but cuts out the fat (no family or romantic subplot, thankfully) that was added to the Bruckheimer produced extravaganza.

Instead we get a lot of low-tech, indie magic as Halicki and crew actually dismantle and destroy plenty of real vehicles along their path to making the movie work.  The whole production feels surprisingly real, and I had a blast with it.  I'm not completely blown away - it's a little slighter than some of the films of its type I love - but I will definitely be revisiting it again in the future, and I think it'd make a fine "party" flick with a bunch of chums.

Will any of these three movies show up on my list of Essential Cult Films of the 1970s?  Maybe they're on yours?  Stay tuned to FMWL for more as the '70s Cult Project continues through the end of August!

Book Review - Tales of Woe by John Reed

When I was contacted about doing FMWL's first book review, I had some reservations.  The book? Tales of Woe, a collection of real stories about real events.  The common theme? Suffering and sadness.  Not necessarily my thing, but I was intrigued.  I'm a horror fan who grew up with true crime stories on TV (so much so that my sister made forensics her beloved profession), and that was enough to convince me that something about this book would be entertaining to me.

From the start, I severely underestimated John Reed's collection of emotionally destructive true stories.  I was sure I could find a way to enjoy what was spelled out within the pages of the book, which appeared to me as a small hardbound edition of black pages covered in white text, with some blood red print sprinkled in for effect.  I've watched enough tales of woe take place on movie and TV screens, surely I could manage about 150 pages of sad tales and 50 pages of illustration, right?  I picked up the book figuring I could power through it over the next 2-3 hours.

I ignored the warnings on the back cover which promised "Crushing Defeats. No Happy Endings.  Abject Misery. Pointless, Endless Grief.".  Another warning stated that there would be "No lessons of temperance or moderation".  I didn't think that possible to a jaded lover of dark cinema like myself.

As I said, I severely underestimated Mr. Reed's collection.  The early stories were easy to get through - a little sad, sure - but nothing that really hit me in the gut too hard.  As I passed the 60-70 page range, I started to get a little tired of the book, but my inner tough guy figured it was just the strain of trying to read the white and read text in my poorly lit apartment.  As I passed the 100 page mark, I realized that I really did need a break.

That old saying that us horror fans love to bring out warns about staring into the abyss, and that's exactly what I felt like I was doing as I read the stories collected here.  There was animal cruelty (both by and against humans), racial injustice, freak accidents, lewd sexual behavior, and more.  Some of the stories seemed too crazy to have actually happened.  Did a baboon really eat a baby's brain and then drop it from a telephone pole?  Could a female luchador really be a serial killer of epic proportions?  I wasn't quite buying into what the book was offering, but it was gazing back at me with an unflinching resolve. 

My pace slowed considerably as I continued to travel through the tragic scenes Reed and his artists painted for me.  By page 140, I gave up.  I was resigned to finish the book the next day.  In fact, I momentarily considered giving up on the book entirely.  Of course, that ended quickly, because there's no way would I slight my readers and the fine folks who offered me the chance to review this book.  But the fact that the book was getting to me enough to make me consider giving up was a scary thought.

I went on to finish the book the next evening.  There were more times when I had to put it down and shake my head in disbelief.  A late tale about a doomed mother and child had me begging the back cover was lying - that maybe there would be just one moment of divine intervention in the book.  I was completely broken down by the tales within this little black book.

The back of the book also made a claim that its purpose was Greek Catharsis, meaning that "You watch people suffer horribly, and then feel better about your own life."  In my case, it made me immediately want to partake in things I enjoy (In the interest of full disclosure, that included watching a video of my 18 month old niece, some music by Meat Loaf, and an ice cream bar).  I enjoyed these things a little more than usual, definitely, and I also found myself thinking a bit about the people in my life who I may unintentionally distance myself from at times.  I'm not sure I was left feeling better about my own life, but I was more grateful.

If that is its goal, then Tales of Woe is a depressing and harrowing success.  I'm glad that I've had the chance to experience these tales - from the silly ones (did we need so much emphasis on the evils of Sarah Palin?) to the destructive ones (I'll never look at the cupboards under my kitchen counter the same way), because they offered me something powerful and thought-provoking.  If you think you can find your way through them, John Reed's Tales of Woe will take you on a journey of suffering.  I must warn you, however.  Tread that road carefully.

(Tales of Woe is available as of August 17th from MTV Press.  Visit the official website for more information. For another take on the book, check out a review by Geof over at Enter The Man Cave!)

Hey, Midnight Warriors! Wanna talk about some '70s Cult Films?

So, this afternoon I was watching Quentin Tarantino's half of Grindhouse, singularly known as Death Proof, and I got to thinking about the kind of movies that inspired Misters Tarantino and Rodriguez to put together that film.  Thanks to several mentions of Vanishing Point and other car chase films, my mind instantly went to the 1970s.  Of course, there's a small problem with that.  I wasn't there personally.

Regardless, the cult cinema of the 1970s has always been fascinating to me.  And, as I looked around the blog world that FMWL exists in (whilst using the tools of twitter and facebook, too), I realized that a large majority of bloggers weren't their either.  And it made me really curious as to what other movie fans, young and old, thought of when the cult cinema of that decade was brought up.

Thus, I posed the question: "What would you say are the most essential cult films of the 1970s?"  Several fine folks, from blogs like Less Than Three Film, The Kid in the Hall, Day of the Woman, Oh! The Horror, and From Beyond Depraved, chimed in, and a diverse list of films were presented to me.  I added a few titles that I was thinking of to the list, and the list of titles that I came upon looked a lot like this:

1970: Beyond the Valley of the Dolls
1971: The Abominable Dr. Phibes, Billy Jack, A Clockwork Orange, Daughters of Darkness, Duel, Shaft, Willard
1972: Blacula, Horror Express, The Last House on the Left, Pink Flamingos
1973: Coffy, Enter the Dragon, Lemora: A Child's Tale of the Supernatural, Sisters, Soylent Green, Theatre of Blood, Westworld, The Wicker Man
1974: Black Christmas, Captain Kronos - Vampire Hunter, Gone in 60 Seconds, The Texas Chain Saw Massacre
1975: Death Race 2000, Deep Red, The Rocky Horror Picture Show, Rollerball
1976: Assault on Precinct 13, Eraserhead, Logan's Run
1977: Smokey and the Bandit, Suspiria
1978: Dawn of the Dead, I Spit on Your Grave/Day of the Woman, Piranha, Up in Smoke
1979: Over the Edge, Rock 'n' Roll High School, Tourist Trap, The Warriors, When A Stranger Calls, Zombie/Zombi 2

Obviously, there are a couple of problems with making a list like this.  Primarily, the term "Cult Movie" is entirely subjective.   A lot of these movies star some of the biggest stars of the era, and were big-budget productions in their day.  But I think it's safe to say that the legacy of each of these films has been ensured by their status with specific audiences, which could not be said of some genre films that weren't mentioned, like Halloween or Jaws.  (The other main problem, as I see it, is that I have not seen WAAAAAYYYYYY too many of these movies.  Haven't even heard of a couple. Tragic.)

My goal with coming up with this kind of a list is two-fold.  First, I'd like to get a semi-definitive list of the movies from the decade that have achieved cult status.  The list above is quite impressive, but I'm sure there's a few big cult hits that are missing from it. (If you know of them, please list them in the comments below, and I'll be sure to update the list!)

The second part of my purpose is where YOU, the reader and present or future Midnight Warrior come into the picture.  I'd like to create a good old fashioned list.  You know, one of those lists that ranks things versus each other and determines greatness according to panel of people who don't necessarily agree with each other.  To do so, I need a panel of voters.

 So, here's what I'm asking.  Take a look at your own preferences, and create your own list of what you think are The Most Essential Cult Movies of the 1970s.  You can pick your favorites, you can pick the movies you think had the biggest impact on cinema or audiences, you can pick the ones that have the best boobs or cars or violence.  You can pick whatever you want, as long as you formulate a ranked TOP 5 in this category.  (Want to list and/or talk about more than 5 films?  Go for it!  But I'll only be using the Top 5 of each list when coming up with Part B of my plan.)

Part B of my plan, you ask?  Well, after everyone has created their list on their blog or via email (and has emailed me at frommidnightwithlove@gmail.com with a link or list), I will compile an overall list that will use YOUR picks to determine a final list of The Midnight Warriors' Most Essential Cult Films of the 1970s!  I'll plan on trying to finish this in two weeks, so I'd like to have lists from people by Monday August 30th. 

If you have any questions or comments, please email me or get in touch with me!  Also, I'd love to get as many responses as possible for the list, so please spread the word to others you think might be interested!

In the meantime, I'll be featuring many of the films on this list here at FMWL, and will eventually be posting my own list featuring my picks.  I'm looking forward to hearing from all of you, and here's to an awesome journey through '70s Cult Cinema for all Midnight Warriors!

The Expendables

2010, Dir. by Sylvester Stallone.

There aren't many insightful things to say about The Expendables, Sylvester Stallone's ensemble action film that rolls off the screen with the subtlety of a carnival barker offering large mallet whacks to any passerby who wants to show off their manliness.   August seems to have become the go-to month for studios to drop their internet hype projects, and this mid August weekend brings titles like Freddy vs. Jason, Snakes on a Plane, and Inglourious Basterds to mind (Plus this week's counterprogramming - Scott Pilgrim vs. The World).  Like each of those movies, Stallone's tribute to the action genre offers exactly what you'd expect.  In my case, I think that's a very good thing.

If you don't know what The Expendables is, well...then I probably don't know you.  In layman's terms, the movie can best be explained by me saying that Sly Stallone and a slew of old and new action stars get together and create carnage.  There's an evil dictator and Coke fields and an over-the-top villain played by Eric Roberts, but none of that really matters.  The point of the movie is that things go boom and/or splat.

Though the ensemble cast gets pretty much equal billing in the film's advertising campaign, and each get their own moments to shine throughout the film (which neatly fits them all into about 105 minutes of action), Stallone and Jason Statham carry most of the action.  This was another good thing in my eyes.  Statham has spent the last decade becoming my favorite action star of recent memory, despite major studios avoiding him since the ill conceived Death Race remake  (Hopefully this will remind Hollywood to change that, but I'm not holding my breath).  Stallone continues his late career surge as an actor, though nothing he gives himself here is on par with any of the monologues he had in Rocky Balboa or Rambo.  The film's "deepest" moment comes from a monologue about past sins given by Mickey Rourke, who appears only in an extended cameo that avoids the action scenes.

As a writer and director, it's clear to see that Stallone was willing to spread material to his ensemble cast, and most of the side characters get their own moments to shine.  I won't spoil details of each characters' shining moments, but will say I was most impressed with the return of Dolph Lundgren.  He shines in his few scenes, presenting a more interesting character than the rest of the side players.  Being the most interesting side player in a mindless action flick like this isn't the greatest achievement in the world, but I wouldn't have bet on Lundgren grabbing my attention going into the film.

The cast is the selling point, and from there Stallone doesn't do much but let the bullets and knives fly.  The action is brutal (the gore level can be compared to 2008's Rambo, with more explosions) and each of the characters is given their own speciality in battle to ensure they each have some kind of purpose.  There are some shades of the Rambo films in Stallone's script (and in the musical score by Brian Tyler), particularly when Stallone uses the "native who stands up for their homeland" card, but the film doesn't dwell on the politics much.  This movie doesn't have time for that, because it is entirely a film about letting a bunch of badasses be badass.

In regard to that goal, The Expendables is a success.  Will it live on as one of the greatest action movies of all-time, or simply as the gimmick film that finally got Stallone and Schwarzenegger on screen together (only to be upstaged by Bruce Willis)?  Definitely the latter.  It's sure to be a big hit on home video/disc/download, and should serve as a great party action film for those who remember life before Hollywood gave up on the R-Rated action film.  If you have any interest in the film based on your memories of the genre and/or the stars, you're sure to have fun with The Expendables' simple pleasures.

(Oh, almost forgot to mention - some of the worst CGI violence ever occurs in this one.  Slight disappointment, but nothing that kept me from having fun.)

Midnight Movie of the Week #32 - The Texas Chain Saw Massacre

I've always been kind of intimidated by The Texas Chain Saw Massacre. It's a movie that's dripping
with unease, a movie that's more about a feeling than a plot, and a movie that I've always felt is near impossible to put into words. For example, I've spent about an hour on this review thus far. Sure, I've been roaming the internet and fielding calls from work during that time, but the impending challenge has still been staring into my soul for that long.

The thing about Tobe Hooper's grindhouse hit, as I understand it, is that it's one of the rare horror movies that forgoes any kind of levity. While other titans of the '70s, like Halloween, Jaws, and The Exorcist, peppered in some lulls in the action - which were usually used to build characters and establish a sense of calm within the plot's chaotic design - Hooper's film appears to be entirely opposed to slowing up to let the viewers get in touch with the "real" Sally Hardesty, or any of her expendable friends and relatives (aside from that weird scene with Franklin getting all spittle-y).  And forget about learning more about the sick family who terrorize them, they exist solely as a force of aggression.

There's a moment about halfway through the film where we almost get that break, as Sally stumbles
into the roadside station manned by Jim Siedow's crazed cook. We don't yet know how the character
fits into the film as he briefly comforts Marilyn Burns' Sally, but - for a moment - it does seem like we're going to get a break in the action. That moment is incredibly brief, a tease from another person who wants to control and terrify us, and the film picks up right where it left off as Sally is again thrust into the mouth of terror.

Movies like this are not easy for any viewer, including the most hardcore horror lovers. Maybe time and repeat viewings have numbed the film's impact to some, but I still find it incredibly hard to look at the film - which I've seen a number of times - and call it fun or entertaining. The film is mentally taxing, because it seems to have been designed to attack the viewer when they're most vulnerable. And it never lets up.

As you can see, I've spent most of the last four paragraphs covering up any kind of negative comment I have about the movie.  Like I said, it's totally intimidating, and I don't want to incur its wrath.  If the horror films of the '70s all went to the same grade school, there's no doubt The Texas Chain Saw Massacre would have been the playground bully.  It's loud, it's in your face, it's from the area where no one dares to go alone...it's the boss.  I can totally see it laughing at taunting the dark haired kid in the corner and calling it "the son of a jackal", or making fun of the Canadian killer who's a deep breather because he's got a bad case of asthma.  That's just the kind of movie Hooper and crew made.

Of course, there's something anyone who's gone through grade school knows about any bully.  Normally, the biggest, baddest, most unrelenting bullies...are actually pretty harmless.  Unlike its Michael Bay produced remake or the slew of "video nasties" that followed in its footsteps, the film only aims to get in your head and doesn't resort to physical means - there's barely any blood, and next to no nudity.  It makes you think it's going to get physical (so much so that the film was banned and earned a reputation as a gross and vile film), but it never really goes to far, except for a little gumming.  And after I realize the movie's not after me physically, and realize it's just a misunderstood kid who's doing what it's learned from its elders, that's when the love comes in. 

Good for you, Texas Chain Saw Massacre.  You can have my lunch money any day, just keep presenting that unrelenting and aggressive front that I've learned to love.

Midnight Top Five - 200th Post Controversial Opinion Edition!

I'm not much for celebration at this point in my blogging career. I have been in the past, making a big deal of everything from my 100th post to Mother's Day to MLB Opening Day as an excuse for something special. So when I realized that my next post was going to be my 200th, I decided I'd buck the trend of going "OH MAN I'M SOOOOO AWESOMEZZZZZZZ!!" and instead say something most will find ridiculous and controversial.

So, here's the thing. I think some of y'all give Shaun of the Dead too much credit. And I shall now list the ways, with the Midnight Top Five entitled:

"Things I Love More Than Shaun of the Dead"

Bubba Ho-Tep - I know that Shaun is supposed to be the horror comedy sensation of this decade, but I don't know why more people don't mention Bubba Ho-Tep in the same conversation. I'm guessing it has something to do with the dramatic side of Bubba - which most find to be ridiculous. But I think that film, topped off by Bruce Campbell's complete willingness to sell Coscarelli's script, succeeds in making me laugh and cheer just a bit more than Shaun does. And it had far less to work with, from a budget/backing standpoint, too.
Dog Soldiers - If I want something British from the last decade, I'm not picking Shaun in that category either. In my crazy eyes, Dog Soldiers is one of the most thrilling horror films in recent memory, and I think it's got near as much humor as Shaun does, too. It lacks the hipness of Shaun, and definitely seems to play more to a male audience than the gender-friendly Shaun, but I'm a dude. Thus, I get a slightly bigger kick out of Neil Marshall's debut film than Edgar Wright's rom-zom-com.
Night of the Living Dead - Do we really even have to have this conversation? Apparently yes, because I know a lot of people who think Shaun's the greatest zombie movie ever. They're also generally the people who don't know why Nick Frost's Ed shouts "We're coming to get you Barbara!" or why Shaun works at Foree Electric. To me Night is still the most effective, most entertaining, and scariest zombie film out there, and I give it mad props for setting the tone for a film like Shaun to even exist.
Hot Fuzz - Speaking of Frost and Wright, I think their action film parody is a bit more spot-on than Shaun was. While I love visiting horror cinema, I can't deny that I was born and raised in the land of the action film...and Hot Fuzz nailed that genre for me. Am I biased because I'm basically an alternate universe version of Danny Futterman? Maybe. But I spent less time thinking "I wish I were watching Die Hard" during Hot Fuzz than I spent thinking "I wish I were watching Night of the Living Dead" during Shaun.
The Blob - OK, there's not a good reason for me to bring The Blob up here. Comparing it and Shaun is like comparing station wagons and bubble gum. But I did just offer a few words about my beloved globular creature over in the ongoing Lucky 13 series over at the world-renowned Vault of Horror! So, I'm listing it here because a) I love my Blob, b) The Vault is wicked awesome and I'm extremely honored to be welcome there, and c) Well...I love my Blob.

I know, y'all are probably mad at me. In the hope that my Shaun dissing shall not get a hit put out on my blog, I offer some Duckula!