ISLAND OF LOST GIRLS (1973) ** ½

Tony Kendall returns as Kommissar X in this sixth entry in the long-running series.  A rich woman vacationing in Bangkok with her family is terrified when her daughter is kidnapped by white slavers. She calls on Captain Rowland (Brad Harris) to find her and he in turn gets in touch with Jo Walker (AKA:  Kommissar X) to join the hunt.  Together, they track the slavers down to a remote island where a wealthy madam (who keeps a pet crocodile) runs the show.

This was my first exposure to the Kommissar X series, and if it’s any indication of the franchise, I wouldn’t mind checking out the other entries.  It’s a lightweight, pseudo-spy movie with some decent action and a handful of genuinely funny bits.  My favorite moment came when Harris’ clothes are stolen by a beautiful would-be assassin.  When she fails to kill him, he’s forced to put on a short bellhop’s uniform and give chase in extremely ill-fitting clothes.  Kommissar X also has a few Bond-inspired gadgets like a pistol-sized rocket launcher and a pair of sunglasses that double as a radio transmitter.  Not to be one-upped, the villains have a pretty cool ice cream truck equipped with a flamethrower at their disposal.  

Island of Lost Girls is far from perfect.  After a strong start, it falls into a repetitive rut after a while.  (Try to keep a running tally of how many people get killed by poisoned blow darts.)  Still, any movie that manages to combine prostitutes with poison rings, motorboat chases, and killer snakes makes for a perfectly acceptable lazy afternoon entertainment if you ask me. 

AKA:  Three Golden Serpents.

HARD BREED TO KILL (1967) **

A gang of bank robbers led by Slim Pickens attack a rancher, kidnap his wife, steal his horses, and leave him for dead.  As Slim and his men head into Indian territory, the rancher nurses his wounds and takes off in hot pursuit.  While the robbers endlessly bicker, the rancher picks them off one by one to reclaim his wife and exact his revenge.  

Well, when Rafael Portillo, the director of the Aztec Mummy movies makes a Mexican western with Slim Pickens, you can be damn sure I’m going to watch it.  Portillo offers up a handful of nicely shot scenic vistas, which lends the otherwise cheap-o film a much-needed shot of production value.  It’s also a bit grislier than some of its contemporaries.  We get a few slashed throats and a scene where our hero impales a bad guy on his walking stick. 

However, that’s not quite enough to make Hard Breed to Kill a quality south of the border oater.  The film suffers from a repetitive nature that prevents it from gathering much momentum.  After a solid set-up, it eventually devolves into an endless series of scenes of bad guys looking for water, making camp, nodding off, and shoving off in the morning.  The flashbacks (in which the wife remembers her husband teaching her how to survive in the wild) serves to flesh out their relationship, but it ultimately slow things down even more. 

HALLOWEEN HANGOVER: HOWLING 6: THE FREAKS (1991) * ½

Ian (Brendan Hughes) is a British werewolf drifter stuck in a small American town.  He gets a job helping a local pastor restore his church and begins to develop a crush on the pastor’s daughter.  A traveling freakshow ran by the evil Harker (Bruce Payne) rolls into town, and he almost immediately decides he wants Ian to be his star attraction.  

The Greatest Showman it is not.  

This is the only Howling sequel I haven’t seen, which is why I wanted to review it to close out the Halloween Hangover column.  I’ve long heard it was one of the best Howling sequels.  Now that I’ve finally seen it, I’m not sure agree with that assessment.  Sure, 2 is bad, but it’s also spectacularly entertaining.  Although the freakshow plotline makes it stand out from the other sequels, there’s not much here that makes it “better” than them either.

Speaking of the freaks, they include a three-armed card player, a half man/half woman (who shows off one boob), and an alligator boy.  The best one though is played by none other than Huggy Bear himself, Antonio Fargas.  He’s the geek who bites the heads off chickens.  So, no matter how bad Howling 6 is, at least it has that going for it.

At 100 minutes, it’s about 20 minutes longer than any Howling sequel should be.  The subplot about a local election is totally unnecessary and should’ve been scrapped entirely.  There’s also a terrible montage where Hughes fixes up the church that’s accompanied by some awful country gospel music that deserved to be left on the cutting room floor.

Howling 6 moves at a slow pace and it takes a good 45 minutes before anyone turns into a werewolf.  As far as the effects are concerned, they are decent, compared to what we’ve seen in the other sequels, but the final creature (which isn’t all that hairy) is kind of lame.  The melting sequence in the end is pretty cheap looking too, although the final skeleton looks cool enough.  Much of the film is too dark, which might’ve been on purpose to hide the weak werewolf effects.  In fact, the blue-skinned vampire make-up (yes, there’s a vampire in this movie… don’t ask) is a lot more inventive than the shitty werewolf, who looks like he’s in dire need of Rogaine.

Hughes makes for a bland lead.  The good news is that Payne is quite good as the conniving ringleader.  His performance is easily the best thing about the movie, but it’s not nearly enough to qualify it as anything other than another shitty Howling sequel.

BLUE RUIN (2014) ***

After being impressed by Jeremy Saulnier’s Murder Party, I figured I’d give his follow-up, Blue Ruin a try.  It was a critical hit on the indie circuit and got him good enough notices to parlay it into his biggest success, Green Room a few years later.  While it’s not quite as strong as either of those films, it’s still an absorbing and stylish thriller.

What we have is basically a homeless version of Death Wish.  Dwight (Macon Blair) lives in his car along the Rehoboth boardwalk.  When he finds out the guy who murdered his parents is getting out of jail, he heads down to Virginia and kills him in a barroom bathroom.  His family comes after Dwight packing heat and he must defend himself at any cost.

Saulnier moves things along at a slow and methodical pace.  Even though there are times where it seems like not a lot is happening, it all works out well in the end because you get to see the toll that violence and revenge takes on its characters.  There are a lot of quiet stretches along the way that are punctuated with bursts of gruesome violence, which is what makes them so effective and shocking.  

Blair (who’s appeared in every one of Saulnier’s films) is great in the lead role.  The whole movie rests squarely on his shoulders.  If we didn’t grow to care about him and his quest for revenge, everything would’ve come crashing down.  He does a fine job showing what an average joe has to go through to get revenge.  He’s not Charles Bronson.  He’s just a dude, which is the main thing that separates Blue Ruin from your typical revenge picture.

THE BALLAD OF BUSTER SCRUGGS (2018) ** ½

The Coen Brothers’ The Ballad of Buster Scruggs is their first Netflix movie.  It might also be the first western anthology ever made.  It’s the first one I’ve seen at any rate.  Like most anthologies, it’s almost doomed from the start because of the uneven structure of the genre.  However, there’s some real gold to be found here.

The Ballad of Buster Scruggs (****) Buster Scruggs (Tim Blake Nelson) looks like an aimable, unassuming goofball, but he’s also a crack shot quickdraw gunfighter.  In addition to shooting people, he loves singing and narrating the events of his life.  In fact, nothing, even death can stop him from his longwinded narration.

The Ballad of Buster Scruggs (the story, not the whole movie) is probably the best thing the Coens have ever done.  It is a hilarious and surprising ode to Roy Rogers and Sam Peckinpah in which the sadistic outbursts of violence are almost as funny as Nelson’s performance.  This segment allows the Coens to take their penchant for creating colorful characters with peculiar dialogue patterns and their knack for sudden violence to the nth degree and they in turn create what has got to be the ultimate Coen Brothers creation.  

Near Algodones (***) James Franco stars as a bandit who tries to rob a bank.  He doesn’t count on the armor-plated teller (Stephen Root) and his devotion to the bank’s security.  As he is about to be hung for his crime, the bandit, through a set of unlikely circumstances, goes out of the frying pan and into the fire.

This tale has a great set-up and a strong middle section, but it ends much too abruptly (albeit fittingly).  Personally, I would’ve liked to have seen this sequence expanded upon.  It would’ve been nice to have had Franco’s character fleshed out a bit more.  It would’ve given the final scene a bit more impact, instead of just a taste of (literal) gallows humor.

Meal Ticket (** ½) A man (Liam Neeson) runs a small traveling sideshow.  The star of the show is a quadruple amputee (Harry Melling) who performs everything from the works of William Shakespeare to the speeches of Abraham Lincoln.  Eventually, he realizes the show can’t go on forever.

Wow.  This one is just bleak and depressing.  It’s well-realized and the art direction is excellent, but like the previous tale, it’s all too brief.  This is another one that would’ve benefited from a longer running time.  It earns points for being relentlessly grim, but the payoff (although inevitable) isn’t quite as effective as it could’ve been.  

All Gold Canyon (*** ½) An old prospector (Tom Waits) makes his way through the countryside looking for gold.  Through many ups and downs, he finally strikes it rich.  Almost immediately, he’s forced to defend his claim at any cost.

This tale perfectly shows us the loneliness and isolation of the Old West.  The grizzled Waits fits right into the Coens universe, so much so that you have to wonder why it took them so long to cast him in one of their movies.  Waits endears himself to the audience and when it comes time for him to protect his gold, we wholeheartedly root for him.  This also has the distinction of being one of the most uplifting stories in the lot, which is nice, because the last two tales are utterly depressing and/or dull.  

The Gal Who Got Rattled (**) Zoe Kazan goes out on the Oregon Trail with her brother to meet her future fiancée.  Along the way, she has to deal with the death of her brother, the possibility of putting down her dog, and the prospect of being cheated out of her money by a scoundrel wagon master.  A handsome cowpoke (Bill Heck) offers to help her by proposing marriage, but that might not be enough to save her doomed voyage.  

This one moves at an ambling pace.  It also lacks the sharp humor of the other stories.  The ironic ending doesn’t quite work as well as in the other tales either, mostly because of its drawn-out nature.  The performances by Heck and Kazan are solid, but they are unable to elevate this solemn, slow-moving sequence.

The Mortal Remains (**) A stagecoach carrying a handful of passengers pushes on toward the frontier.  The passengers pass the time by having rambling conversations and generally getting on each other’s nerves.  It soon becomes apparent that two of the passengers aren’t who they seem.  

The talky nature and claustrophobic setting help to drag this story down and end things on a down note.  That’s not to say there aren’t some good moments here.  I particularly liked Chelcie Ross as the talkative trapper who goes on and on about people being like “ferrets”.  The twist ending is a bit obvious (especially if you’ve seen Dr. Terror’s House of Horrors), but like most of the stories here, it ultimately comes off a bit slight.

Like most anthologies, The Ballad of Buster Scruggs is uneven and fitfully amusing.  It serves to sketch for the audience the harshness of frontier life as well as the sudden outbursts of violence that hallmarked the Wild West.  Most of the stories end with a big death scene, which shows the arbitrary nature of life and death.  I can’t say it’s entirely successful, but the first segment alone just about makes it worthwhile. 

HALLOWEEN HANGOVER: THE NIGHT OF THE STRANGLER (1972) ** ½

College student Denise (Susan McCullough) returns home to the south to tell her family she is leaving school to marry a black man.  Denise’s younger brother Vance (Micky Dolenz from The Monkees) is supportive, but her older brother Dan (James Ralston) is a full-blown racist, so he smacks her around.  The next day, Denise’s boyfriend is murdered by a sniper, and she is later drowned in her bathtub by a black gloved killer, who makes her death look like a suicide.  Meanwhile, a young black priest (Chuck Patterson) reaches out to the brothers to offer his condolences.  More people close to the family wind up dead, and a pair of perplexed cops are left trying to make sense of it all.

Directed by Joy N. (Night of Bloody Terror) Houck, The Night of the Strangler is surprisingly progressive and modern for a movie from 1972.  It has more on its mind than just being another whodunit, even if the execution is a bit clunky at times.  Houck tries to juggle the various plotlines, which involve multiple killers and (too many) supporting characters with inconsistent results.  It’s not completely successful, but the murder scenes have a moderate amount of kick to them (there’s a neat bit involving a booby-trapped glove compartment), and the twist ending is effective.  

Oh, and nobody gets strangled, so there’s that.  

Another debit is that some of the dramatic scenes veer into heavily into camp.  Ralston especially goes overboard as the sniveling racist brother.  Dolenz on the other hand fares well in a rare dramatic role and makes a memorable impression as the sensitive brother.

Dolenz also gets the best line on his brother’s wedding day when he says, “Beauty and the bigot!”

AKA:  Dirty Dan’s Women.  AKA:  Is the Father Black Enough?  AKA:  The Ace of Spades.

THE BLUE HOUR (1971) **

Tania (Ann Chapman) is unable to get it on with her boyfriend on the beach.  He tries to understand where her head’s at and she relates to him her entire sexual history.  She works as an artist’s model, gets accosted by her horny Greek uncle, attacked by bikers, and used by just about anyone who comes in contact with her.  The longest flashback recalls her teenage years living with her mother on a small island where her mating prospects are slim to none.  (“There’s nothing on this island but goats and old men!”)  That all changes when a young priest catches her eye, but like all her conquests, it too will end in tragedy.

The Blue Hour is a slow moving, sometimes dull affair.  It’s short on exploitation goods and long on amateurish artsy-fartsy aspirations.  The fractured narrative, which consists of lots of flashbacks within flashbacks, is frustrating, and the film hems and haws way too much to be considered effective.  The rapid-fire, ADD editing is probably the worst part, although the long, drawn-out scenes where nothing happens (like the endless belly dancing scene) don’t help either.  

This is more of a psychological profile of a damaged woman with a fragile psyche than an honest to goodness skin flick. If the director’s intent was depressing us instead of titillating us, then mission accomplished.  Still, if you are patient, you’ll be treated to a decent third act where Chapman has an excellent solo girl scene on a bed and bangs the priest on the beach. It doesn’t save the movie or anything, but at least we’re treated to an OK amount of skin.  It’s just a helluva long wait. 

Chapman is quite good and looks rather incredible naked.  Too bad she’s rarely given a chance to display either of her talents.  It’s a shame she didn’t have much of a career because there’s enough evidence here to suggest she could’ve been a minor exploitation star.