IF YOU DON’T STOP IT… YOU’LL GO BLIND!!! (1975) **

If You Don’t Stop It… You’ll Go Blind!!! is little more than a collection of vignettes of old dirty jokes that have been staged and reenacted with actors.  They were then strung together until the filmmakers got it to a feature length and then released to an indifferent public.  Some sequences feel like something out of a vaudeville act.  Others look like a Playboy cartoon come to life.  None of them are particularly funny.

Most of the jokes are fairly obvious.  If you’re a connoisseur of bad jokes (like I am), you’ll probably be able to spot where they’re heading as soon as you hear the set-up.  Heck, some of these jokes were old long before 1975.  

I do admire directors Keefe Brasselle and Bob Levy’s determination to see all of this through to the bitter end.  It’s like no matter how bad the joke is, they commit to it 100%.  I could’ve done without the lame musical numbers (one is set in a whorehouse) that are really only there to help pad out the running time.  The amateurish cast don’t do much to elevate the material either.  All of this winds up becoming repetitive, and it feels much longer than the seventy-seven-minute running time suggests.  Since it’s loaded with women who are more than willing to get naked in nearly every vignette, it’s hard to be too critical about it.

Speaking of which, the biggest star (in more than one sense of the word) is Uschi Digard.  She appears in multiple roles and always winds up flashing her enormous chest.  Smokey and the Bandit’s Pat McCormick has a cameo hosting an awards show, but he isn’t really given much to do. 

A sequel, obviously called Can I Do It Till I Need Glasses? featured Robin Williams in his film debut.

AKA:  You Must Be Joking.

VHS MASSACRE: CULT FILMS AND THE DECLINE OF PHYSICAL MEDIA (2016) **

VHS Massacre:  Cult Films and the Decline of Physical Media presents a hodgepodge of ideas that never quite gels into a cohesive whole.  It focuses on a variety of subjects, but never does any of them justice.  It’s a shame too because if the filmmakers had just taken the time to flesh out their ideas a bit more, it could’ve been quite entertaining.

The main focus is giving the viewer a history of home video formats.  They cover the rise of Blockbuster, which ultimately spells the end of the old mom and pop video stores.  The various oddball movies that you can only find on VHS are also discussed.  

The most fun comes from the filmmakers hunting for the worst VHS tapes they can find.  Then, they present their findings to a panel of judges, who will name the worst VHS of all time.  This idea is a lot of fun and really should’ve been the main thrust of the film as the scenes of the filmmakers scouring old video stores are among the best in the entire movie.

Ultimately, VHS Massacre just jumps around too much.  Any one of these topics properly explored could’ve made their own documentary.  Trying to make a film about all of them at once sort of spreads everything out too thin.  Mostly, it just seems like shameless promotion for the filmmakers’ various movies and podcasts than anything.

The interviews are best part.  The most insightful interviews come from Troma president Lloyd Kaufman, drive-in guru Joe Bob Briggs, and Scream Queen Debbie Rochon.  Kaufman is especially knowledgeable given his firsthand experience in the video market trenches.  There are also interviews with the stars of Troll 2, Birdemic, and The Room.  I have a feeling the directors could’ve just filmed a seventy-minute interview with either Joe Bob or Lloyd and it would’ve been preferable to the patchwork finished product.  

VELVET BUZZSAW (2019) ** ½

Josephina (Zawe Ashton) is a lowly assistant for a ruthless art agent named Rhodora (Rene Russo).  When she finds a dead artist’s complete body of work, Rhodora joins forces with her to profit off the discovery.  Along with an influential art critic named Morf (Jake Gyllenhaal), they set out to make the dead artist an overnight sensation.  Unfortunately for all involved, people who have come into contact with the paintings begin dying in bizarre ways.  

I tried to keep away from spoilers before going into Velvet Buzzsaw.  I was a fan of writer/director Dan Gilroy’s previous collaboration with Gyllenhaal and Russo, Nightcrawler and couldn’t wait to see what they had cooked up this time.  I guess if you hedge your expectations, you won’t be disappointed.  The film isn’t bad per se, but it doesn’t quite click either.  

This is one of those cases where the movie would’ve made a good hour-long Masters of Horror show, or better yet, a half-hour Tales from the Crypt episode.  Hovering around the two-hour mark, Velvet Buzzsaw is just too long and drawn out for its own good.  The first half is a satirical look at the various vapid caricatures that populate the art world. This portion of the film is still hit-and-miss, but it’s not without its charms.  The horror elements become more pronounced in the second half, and it’s a long wait.  Ultimately, these sequences are much too uneven to be truly effective, and more often than not come off feeling rushed.  Gilroy’s jabs at the art world are a bit too kind and the kills in the second half aren’t cruel enough, which makes the satire lack bite.  

The performances are solid across the board.  They’re more responsible for keeping you involved than Gilroy’s half-assed plotting.  Russo is fabulous as the shrewd and bitchy Rhodora.  I also had fun with John Malkovich’s subdued turn as an artist whose sobriety is preventing him from being successful.  Hereditary’s Toni Collette is equally amusing as an art buyer who gets a wild Phantasm-inspired death scene.

Gyllenhaal is the glue that keeps Velvet Buzzsaw from spinning off the tracks.  He gives a quirky, hilarious, and fearless performance.  The film has way too many supporting characters fighting for superiority, but whenever he is front and center, the movie really cooks.  His wild-eyed antics will probably launch a thousand memes and for that alone, it gets a marginal recommendation from me.

LADY ICE (1973) * ½

Donald Sutherland stars as a mechanic who rips off a priceless diamond necklace.  The next day, he hits on the boss’s daughter (Jennifer O’Neill) which gets him fired.  He eventually teams up with her to fence the necklace.  Little does she know, he’s really an insurance man working with a detective (Robert Duvall) to nab a ring of jewel thieves.

Directed by Tom (Breakheart Pass) Gries, Lady Ice is a largely dull caper film.  There are no real surprises, sparks, or tension here.  There’s also no energy from scene to scene, which makes things bog down awful fast. 

You can derive some fun from seeing Sutherland playing a badass.  He’s particularly cool in the opening scene where he steals the necklace at gunpoint.  This sequence is evidence that he could’ve easily played Richard Stark’s Parker if given the chance.  Too bad the movie never gives him another opportunity to duplicate that level of toughness.

O’Neill is one of the more underrated actresses of the ‘70s.  It’s nice to see her with such a sizeable role.  It’s just a shame that she isn’t given a whole lot to do.  The supporting cast is given less to work with.  Duvall is largely wasted, as is Patrick Magee, who plays O’Neill’s father.  It’s cool seeing a mustache-less Eric Braeden popping, but he is left in the lurch thanks to the thin script.

The narrative feels choppy too.  I’m usually the last person to advocate for longer cuts of a movie.  However, I have a suspicion that there’s a good two-hour film here that actually spends time on the characters and fleshes out the plot more.  At ninety minutes, it all just comes off as clunky. 

The ending is the worst part though.  O’Neill and Sutherland go through all that crossing and double crossing and where do they end up?  Standing around on the beach doing absolutely nothing and looking on while a boat chase occurs.  You’re guaranteed to be screaming at the TV, “THAT’S IT?” as the credits abruptly roll.  

AKA:  Danger.

AFTER PORN ENDS 3: DOCUMENTARY (2018) ** ½

This is the third entry in the absorbing After Porn Ends saga, which lets us know what our favorite porn stars are up to in their retirement years.  The first two were directed by Bryce Wagoner (who remains involved as a producer), but this one is directed by Brittany Andrews, who certainly knows something about being a porn star.  (She herself was profiled in Part 2.)  However, she doesn’t really bring a whole lot to the table as After Porn Ends 3:  Documentary doesn’t dig into the performers’ lives as much as the other films in the series.  

Among the performers featured are Christy Canyon (who goes from porn to becoming a radio DJ on Sirius XM), Bonnie Rotten (who defies her tumultuous upbringing to find porn stardom while gaining acceptance for heavily tattooed performers along the way), Jenteal (got into the business at the behest of her boyfriend and now makes a living selling hemp oil), and Priya Rai (who goes from being an adult performer to becoming a cage fighter).  Some of the most successful stars (like Tera Patrick, Alexandra Silk, and Luc Wylder) managed to keep their “brand” going by creating their own porn empires.  There are also snippets from interviews of current porn stars taken at various red-carpet events, but they aren’t all that revealing and feel more like filler than anything.

All of this is certainly watchable and informative.  It’s just that it lacks the devastating power of the second entry and the novelty of the first movie.  It also doesn’t help that there’s no big revelations here.  This crop of stars seems surprisingly well-adjusted, which is great news for them.  Dramatically, it makes the film a bit uneventful.  (Only Jenna Presley seems to have had it rough, but she found Jesus and seems okay now.)  There’s also the random segment on Herschel Savage that almost feels like it came from an entirely different movie.  He basically reminisces about his past performances and even watches one of his old scenes, but we never learn where he is or what he’s doing now, which is odd.  

These issues aside, if you’re a fan of any (or all) of these performers, I’m sure you’ll want to see it.  All the ladies (and the gentlemen it must be said) have remained well preserved over the years.  Despite my qualms, I would still gladly watch another sequel.  I just hope the next batch of interviewees have more to say.

KILLING GUNTHER (2017) * ½

Killing Gunther is Arnold Schwarzenegger’s worst movie.  Yes, worse than Sabotage.  The good news is (for him) he’s barely in it, despite being the only one featured on the DVD box, so he doesn’t embarrass himself too badly.  The same can’t be said for the rest of the cast. 

Taran Killam stars as Blake, a hitman who assembles a team of assassins to take out the most feared killer in the business, Gunther (Schwarzenegger).  He hires a documentary crew to film their exploits.  The crew (and the team) get more than they bargained for once Gunther comes gunning for them.

I’m not fond of the Found Footage/mockumentary gimmick to begin with, but it totally doesn’t work here.  It just renders the action incomprehensible with all the various jump cuts and shaky cam nonsense.  Of course, Killam is going more for laughs here (of which there are precious few), but the overall effect is grating. 

Speaking of grating, Killam’s character is annoying and is sure to get on your nerves almost instantly.  I like Killam on Saturday Night Live, but he’s too one-note here to be of any use as a leading man.  The gag of him crying and screaming like a little girl in particular gets old fast.

It’s not all bad though.  There are some amusing bits.  I liked the assassin who only kills with poison and some of the stuff involving the dude with the robot arm.  Unfortunately, the film settles into a predictable routine right from the get-go and quickly becomes monotonous from there.  (They get a line on Gunther’s whereabouts, congregate on his location, set a trap, and then Gunther kills one of them as their plan goes to all to Hell.)  All of this might’ve worked as a five-minute sketch on SNL.  At ninety minutes, it’s excruciating.

Arnold doesn’t show up till the sixty-five-minute mark, and by then, it’s pretty rough going.  He’s clearly having fun playing a lightweight and offbeat character (there’s a scene where he records a country song) and even gets to make references to his other movies too.  However, it all comes a day late and a dollar short.

The robot arm guy gets the best line of the movie when he says, “I lost my arm in a suicide bombing.  Not mine.  Someone else’s.” 

ELLE (2016) ****

Isabelle Huppert stars as Michele, a successful owner of a video game company who is assaulted in her home in the opening scene.  Given her past experiences, she refuses to go to the cops.  Instead, she decides to protect herself from the rapist’s ever-increasing threats.  Meanwhile, she goes about living her life as she juggles her stressful job with her dysfunctional family. 

On the surface, Elle just seems like your typical drama.  The fact that it is directed by Paul (Robocop) Verhoeven should clue you in to just how fucked up it is.  It was shot in France with a primarily French cast and it is surprisingly frank and matter-of-fact in its attitudes toward sex, rape, and harassment.   

As played by Huppert, Michele is an endlessly fascinating character.  Despite the constant threat of attack, she takes it all in stride.  Danger may potentially lurk around every corner, but she refuses to be a victim and live in fear.  

Also, her needs and flaws are projected for all to see without apology or explanation.  The movie is brave enough to suggest that perhaps Michele welcomes these attacks.  That somewhere inside her, there is a deep-seeded desire to be abused.  Only a guy like Verhoeven could get away with something like that, and very few actresses could sell Michele’s plight and make it believable and empathetic.

They say there are no good roles for women of a certain age.  Elle is a fierce and unrelenting rebuke to that myth.  Huppert gives a tour de force performance of such raw intensity and soulful humanity that you are with her every step of the way.  She was rightfully nominated for an Oscar for her work but lost to Emma Stone for La La Land.  If you watch the two performances, there really is no competition.  This is one of the best performances of the new millennium.  

One of the exhilarating things about Elle is that you never know where it’s going next, and I’m not talking about Michele’s quest to find her attacker.  I mean in her everyday life.  From a truly awkward Christmas party to the antics of her fuck-up son, surprises wait for you at every corner.  Sure, things are wrapped up a little too neatly in the end, but Verhoeven never once cops out or lets anyone off the hook.  Besides, this is one instance where a happy ending was richly deserved.