HEADS I KILL YOU, TAILS… YOU’RE DEAD: THEY CALL ME HALLELUJA (1975) ***

George Hilton uses a machine gun disguised as a sewing machine to spring a Mexican freedom fighter from a firing squad.  Hilton creates a diversion by swapping out the candles on a birthday cake with dynamite.  If you can’t already tell, this movie is pretty awesome, even if it has a long and unwieldy title.  (The way Hilton and the prisoner reluctantly agree to terms while casually gunning down soldiers is also very funny.)  Hilton eventually decides to find some missing jewels for his newfound friend, who hopes they will help fund his revolution.

Heads I Kill You, Tails… You’re Dead:  They Call Me Halleluja is a fun Spaghetti Western chockful of inventive scenes.  Among them:  Hilton performing impromptu surgery with a corkscrew, spiking the bad guys' chow with laxative to save a nun from getting stung by a scorpion, and a part where a Russian soldier guns down a bunch of surly cowpokes with a guitar equipped with a small cannon.  Despite the title, the actual quote Hilton says in the movie is "Heads you die, tails I kill you!", but oh well. 

All of this is highly entertaining for the most part.  It begins to lose some of its charm once Hilton joins up with the Russian guy, mostly because he’s no match for Hilton’s considerable charisma.  It also begins to run out of steam once it enters the finale.  The last act lacks the invention of the first hour or so, but it remains a memorable and enjoyable Spaghetti Western for fans of the genre. 

AKA:  Guns for Dollars.  AKA:  Deep West.  AKA:  They Call Me Hallelujah.  

TRANCERS 2 (1991) * ½

Future cop Jack Deth (Tim Thomerson) is living it up in 1991 when he gets word that the evil Dr. Wardo (Richard Lynch) is creating a “Trancer Farm”.  It’s then up to Jack and his wife Lena (Helen Hunt) to take Wardo down.  Things get complicated when Jack’s future wife (Megan Ward) returns to the present to aid them in their quest.

Trancers 2 gets off to an inauspicious start with a massive exposition dump filled with enough gobbledygook to make your head spin.  It’s been a while since I saw the first Trancers, but I remember enjoying it.  With this one, I was lost before it even got going.  Director Charles Band doesn’t do much to correct that either as there isn’t much drive or imagination on display.  It also plods along at a lumbering pace and the action set pieces are clunky and cheap looking.  (The finale in particular is weak.)  Still, it’s hard to completely hate any movie that contains a homeless baseball game AND an exploding ham.

The cast do what they can, but Band fails to capitalize on their talents.  I mean what can you say about a movie that features Richard Lynch, Martine Beswick, and Jeffrey Combs as villains, and none of them are ever given a chance to tap into the oddball energy that make them such valuable cult icons?  It looks like Band just shot and used the rehearsal as their scenes together are mostly lifeless.  

Even Thomerson’s grizzled machismo isn’t enough to keep you watching.  His limp quips and lame wisecracks don’t help matters either.  The only sparks are provided by Ward and Hunt.  The scenes where they vie for Thomerson’s affections are the only worthwhile parts of the film, and even then, they’re mostly weighted towards the end.  

AKA:  Future Cop 2.  AKA:  Trancers 2:  The Two Faces of Deth.  AKA:  Trancers 2:  The Return of Jack Deth.

YETI: GIANT OF THE 20TH CENTURY (1977) ** ½

A giant Yeti is found frozen in a block of ice in Canada.  It gets loose and runs off into the wilderness.  The Yeti befriends a mute boy and his sister and acts as their protector.  Too bad their grandfather wants to exploit the creature for his own gain.

Yeti:  Giant of the 20^th Century was released in the wake of the King Kong remake.  Like that film, the monster becomes a symbol for an oil company.  (It even breaks loose when it is frightened by photographers’ flashbulbs.)  The movie also pokes a little fun at the Kong marketing blitz as the company sells a lot of Yeti t-shirts.

Directed by Gianfranco (the Sabata movies) Parolini, Yeti:  Giant of the 20^th Century is a moderately entertaining Grade-Z Italian knockoff that features some awful dubbing and uneven special effects.  The Yeti itself just looks like a homeless person with a wild hairdo and bushy beard wearing a tattered gorilla costume.  The other effects range from atrocious to passable.  While some effects shots feature obvious matte lines, the stuff with actors sitting in the giant Yeti hands work well enough.  The highlight comes when the Yeti walks down the side of a building, kicking in the windows with his feet and using them like rungs of a ladder.  The Kong-style scenes of the Yeti’s foot stomping on people are pretty nifty too.  The Yeti even goes one better than Kong as it strangles a guy with its toes. 

There are some genuinely funny moments here.  I liked the part when the Yeti combs Phoenix Grant’s hair with a giant fish bone.  I also chuckled at the fact that everyone pronounced “Yeti” as "Yay-Tee".  The scenes of the mute kid’s pet collie going for help played too much like a “very special” episode of Lassie for my tastes though.

One thing I can say for Yeti:  Giant of the 20^th Century is that it gets things off and running in a hurry.  There are no boring scenes of people going on an expedition to bog the pace down.  In fact, when the movie begins, the scientists have already found the Yeti and are in the midst of thawing it out. 

All of this isn’t consistently entertaining (or bad) to make for a great B movie, but if you enjoyed The Mighty Gorga or Konga you’ll probably get a kick out of it.  Another plus is the fact that Grant’s character refuses to be a Fay Wray-like damsel in distress.  She takes charge, bosses men around, and is quite protective of the Yeti.  She’s definitely more well-rounded than Jessica Lange’s character in the Kong remake, that’s for sure.

AKA:  Big Foot.  AKA:  Yeti.  AKA:  Giant of the 20^th Century.  AKA:  Ice Man.  

HER NAME WAS LISA (1979) ***

Roger Watkins directed this XXX feature just after making the immortal Last House on Dead End Street.  While Her Name Was Lisa isn’t quite as dark and depraved as that movie, it’s certainly more demented than your typical porno.  Watkins’ bleak outlook and callous attitude towards the sex insures you won’t be titillated during the film.  However, it’s an experience you won’t soon forget.

Lisa (Samantha Fox) is taken away from a seedy massage parlor by a photographer (Rick Iverson) who’s eager to make her his latest model.  She’s eventually stolen away by a rich publisher named Steven (David Pierce) who puts her up in a swanky apartment in exchange for her participation in increasingly-kinkier sex.  After Steven (or “Steffan”, depending on who’s calling his name) turns her over to a set of rapists, she turns to the sultry Carmen (Vanessa Del Rio), who helps her escape her life of sexual slavery. 

Her Named Was Lisa is a depressing experience to say the least.  There’s no light at the end of the tunnel for anyone in this film.  Even when things begin to look up for Lisa, she is ultimately betrayed and plunges even further into a pit of despair.  

You can feel Watkins’ fingerprints on every frame of this movie.  As with Last House on Dead End Street and Corruption, he seems to delight in rubbing the audience’s noses in the filth, punishing them for wanting to see their baser instincts played out.  Not only does he show us the harsh realities of a character living a sinful lifestyle, he shows us the repercussions and how it effects everyone around them.  The atmospheric lighting and creative camerawork adds to the weird energy that Watkins creates.  I mean any time a porno starts with a funeral, you know you're in for a downer.

I also loved the way Watkins blatantly stole pop and rock songs for the soundtrack.  Kraftwork’s “The Robots” appears during a sex scene, as does a cover of “Gimme Some Lovin’”.  The best moment though is when Led Zeppelin's “Dazed and Confused” plays during one particularly depressing sex scene.  I don't know how they got away with it, given the fact that Zeppelin is notoriously stingy with their musical rights.  I mean Dazed and Confused didn't even have “Dazed and Confused” in it!  Watkins obviously didn’t give a fuck, which helps to make this scene even more memorable.

“10” (1979) ***

When Blake Edwards wasn’t busy making those silly Pink Panther movies, he was doing these personal tangents about how women and men interact.  “10” was his biggest success, and probably his overall best film.  It’s still overlong, and clunky in parts, but there’s enough honest emotion (not to mention big laughs) to make it well worth watching.

Dudley Moore is a composer on the wrong side of forty.  He’s in full-tilt mid-life crisis mode; unhappy in his work, unsatisfied with his girlfriend (Julie Andrews), and making eyes at every piece of ass that walks down the street.  When he sees Bo Derek at a traffic stop, he becomes obsessed with her.  He decides to follow her down to Mexico (where she’s on her honeymoon with Flash Gordon himself, Sam J. Jones) with a wild scheme to get her into bed.

Moore has some good bits like being stung by a bee, drinking coffee while under the effects of Novocain, or trying to walk across the scorching sand barefoot.  The film is funny when following him around as he acts on his outrageous impulses.  It’s less effective when it spends time on Julie Andrews’ shrill girlfriend character.  Since she’s Blake Edwards’ wife, I guess he was forced to give her more and more screen time (which is probably why the original star, George Segal bolted the production and had to be replaced by Moore).  The finale where Moore and Derek eventually get together is kind of predictable and obvious from the get-go, but it’s also bittersweet and appropriate too.  I just wish the coda wasn’t so drawn out.  (READ:  More Julie Andrews bullshit.)

As great as Moore is, the supporting cast is packed with extraordinary talent.  Robert Webber has some nice moments as Moore’s gay songwriting partner, Dee Wallace has a heartbreaking bit as one of Moore’s potential conquests, and Brian Dennehy very nearly steals the show as a sympathetic bartender.  Don (Return of the Living Dead) Calfa has the most fun though as Moore’s sex-crazed neighbor who bangs a constant parade of nude starlets for the benefit of Moore’s telescope.  (The guests at his house party feature a who’s who of ‘70s porn stars.)

DEADLY BREED (1989) **

A racist police captain (William Smith) and a detective named Kilpatrick (Addison Randall) lead a white supremacist group that go around killing minorities.  They kill two jailbirds who were on the straight and narrow and make it look like a drug deal gone bad.  Jake (Blake Bahner from Wizards of the Demon Sword), their parole officer, investigates the murders and uncovers the extent of the supremacists’ operation.  When Kilpatrick murders his wife, Jake goes out for revenge. 

Even though he gets top billing, William Smith mostly sits at a desk, eats Chinese food, and barks out orders.  Hell, he doesn’t even stand up until about an hour into the movie.  (He never figures out a way to get out from behind that desk though.)  So, if you’re watching Deadly Breed thinking it’s going to be a William Smit vehicle, you’re going to be sorely disappointed.

Deadly Breed starts out promising enough with Bahner tracking down the white supremacist cops.  If writer/director Charles T. (3 Ninjas Kick Back) Kanganis explored this aspect further, he could’ve made a real statement about racism and the police.  Instead, he drops all that about halfway through when the bad guys decide to go after Bahner.  Then, it merely becomes about his own personal survival and revenge.

I guess that would’ve been okay if the action was any damn good.  The finale is particularly weak.  Bahner just sort of sneaks into the supremacists’ compound and starts chucking dynamite around.  His final confrontation with Randall is a bit of a letdown too, and the ending with Smith is awkwardly edited.  It almost looks like they ran out of money (or time) and couldn’t film Smith’s death scene, so they just did a freeze frame of his face accompanied by the sound of a gunshot before fading to black.  Lame.

One sequence deserves special mention though.  Early on, there’s a montage of minorities being killed by the supremacists while Randall plays the organ shirtless.  The juxtaposition of murder and a beefy, sweaty guy pounding out classical music will make your jaw drop.  If only Kanganis peppered the rest of the movie with more oddball touches like this, it could’ve really been something.

LO AND BEHOLD: REVERIES OF THE CONNECTED WORLD (2016) ** ½

Lo and Behold:  Reveries of the Connected World is a Werner Herzog documentary about the internet.  That right there was enough to make me want to watch it.  Although it makes for a quirky, breezy ride, it never quite clicks.  I don’t know what I was expecting.  I thought a guy like Herzog would’ve managed to squeeze a little bit more out of the subject.  Still, his Zen-like quirkiness and dry wit helps to elevate the film from being a mass of talking heads.

Herzog presents ten vaguely connected vignettes, each exploring a different aspect of the internet.  The most interesting ones revolve around the creation of the internet and its early days of existence.  I also liked the segments devoted to online harassment and computer hackers.  Some segments (like the stuff with robots, driverless cars, and the potential for the internet on Mars) seems like it could’ve been part of a separate documentary though.

The best moments come when Herzog forces himself into the action.  Although he’s never seen on film, you can hear him just off camera stirring the pot a little and giving his subjects perplexing questions to chew on.  I would’ve liked to have more moments like this throughout the movie as Herzog himself is far and away the most memorable part.  Heck, his narration alone is worth the price of admission.  

I’m glad I watched Lo and Behold, but it never once attains the manic drive and bizarre fascination of Herzog’s best stuff.  The vignette approach sets itself up for an uneven ride as some segments misfire and/or peter out.  It’s a minor (albeit entertaining) work from a master filmmaker.