ROCK AND ROLL FANTASY (1994) *

Alex (April Lerman) is a bookworm sorority sister who has a crush on rock star named “Jamie Z.” (a male model known only as “Attila”).  His manager, Red (Mark Stulce) has had it with his temperamental behavior, and he sets out to kill Jamie to collect on his insurance policy.  After a near-fatal accident, Alex bring Jamie back to her sorority house and winds up inadvertently kidnapping him.  Eventually, he doesn’t seem to mind it so much and the two wind up falling in love.

Rock and Roll Fantasy was the first film by director David Michael Latt, who went on to found The Asylum.  It basically set the groundwork for their teenage comedies, not to mention the company itself.  Unlike their recent output, there’s no real T & A to help get you through the sluggish comedy scenes.  

The plot is belabored and slow moving, not to mentioned farfetched and stupid.  Whole scenes aimlessly play out without much of a payoff, and the stilted acting and dialogue do nothing to keep them moving.  Many of the gags are tired and/or just plain unfunny (like the one involving the “Indian” bartender).  The scenes of the kidnapped rock star forming a bond with his nerdy captor are a chore to sit through too.  The best scenes involve the gangster who’s trying to teach his son the tricks of the trade like “how to dig an unmarked grave”, but they are few and far between.    

Attila has the rock star look, but he definitely isn’t an actor.  Lerman isn’t much better.  Without a lead to care about, it’s hard to give a shit about any of this.  It’s even harder to swallow the fact that they fall in love.

AKA:  Sex Pot 2.  AKA:  Sorority House Party.

SKULLDUGGERY (1983) ½ *

In Medieval Times, a sorcerer takes control of a castle and places a curse on a royal family.  Flashforward to 1982 where a Dungeons and Dragons nerd starts to feel as if the line between the game and reality is beginning to blur.  He picks a warlock character in the game and later, while at a local talent show, causes a snake to kill an actress with his mind.  The more grandiose his visions become, and the more the bodies begin to pile up.  At a big costume party, he dons a variety of disguises as he offs victims.  Is he in control of his magic powers?  Or is someone else pulling the strings?  

There are parts of Skullduggery that might remind you of Evilspeak, Fade to Black, Terror Train, and Mazes and Monsters.  It’s a mishmash of stock horror scenes (like a trip to a fortune teller), slasher clichés (like the masked stalking sequences), and out and out weirdness.  I guess there was some potential here, but none of it ever gels in a meaningful way.  

The long magic acts and stage plays eat up a lot of time and the stuff involving the boardgame just sits there like a stone.  It’s one thing if the plot and/or filler scenes fall flat, but even the supposedly horrific stuff is a total bore.  The stalking scenes go on far too long, and the part where the killer dresses up in a variety of stupid costumes (like an Easter Bunny) are lame.  

All this is more confounding than anything.  Any one of these elements might’ve made for a good movie, but Skullduggery can’t make up its mind what it wants to be.  Instead, it just plays like a mind-numbing puree of clichés.  Since the connecting tissue is so weak, it all falls apart.  The various side jaunts (like the horny nurse) are perplexing and silly shit (like the random Liberace impersonator) is more stupid than fun.  The occasional attempts at intentional humor land with a thud and only make the fractured narrative seem even more incongruous.

Many of the kills make no sense.  For example, there’s a scene where the killer holds a woman’s face under scalding steam and then, seconds later, he’s just holding a skull in his hands.  Did the steam decapitate her too?  You’ll go crazy trying to make sense of this movie.  

There are only two things saving Skullduggery from a No Star rating.  One is the creepy jester puppet that occasionally pops up.  The second is the hilarious theme song that sounds like a disco version of a Ren Fest ballad.  That’s about as good as the movie ever gets, which is sad because it’s the first thing we hear!

AKA:  Blood Puzzle.  AKA:  Warlock.

THE COLLECTOR (2009) **

A thief named Arkin (Josh Stewart) must crack his employers’ safe to get the dough necessary to pay off his ex-wife’s debt.  Once he breaks in, he finds the place isn’t what it appears to be.  Someone else is in there and has set deadly booby traps throughout the home.  He then must try to save the family before they fall prey to a black-masked killer (Juan Fernandez) who “collects” his victims.  

The Collector was the brainchild of Feast and Saw sequel writers Marcus Dunstan and Patrick Melton.  It’s a grisly, yet generic mix of Saw, Don’t Breathe, and (checks notes) Home Alone.  It’s certainly has some grisly moments (there’s a gnarly bear trap scene) and touches of surprising atmosphere in the early scenes.  (There are shots that evoke both Argento and De Palma.)  

Once the action switches to the house, it becomes yet another darkened, dreary, unimaginative torture porn-type of horror flick.  The solid set-up eventually gives way to ho-hum execution and the doldrums set in well before the finale.  Dunstan shows enough promise as a director in the early scenes though to make you want to see something else from him down the road.  

The script however leaves a little something to be desired.  Dunstan and Melton originally conceived it to be a prequel to Saw, but they reworked it to be its own thing.  I guess if you could excuse the rampant lapses in logic (like how the hell the Collector could rig up all those elaborate traps on such short notice) and eye-rolling clichés in the third act, you might find this one worthy of your collection.

DUMBO (2019) *** ½

Ever since I was a kid, Dumbo has been my favorite Disney movie.  As a teenager, it resonated even more.  Dumbo was relentlessly teased and bullied by his peers and the only way he dealt with it was to get drunk and wake up the next morning in a tree.  I can relate.  (I never quite got to the point where I was able to rise above the bullies and reign down a hail of fire-roasted peanuts on my tormentors though.)

The good news is, I can relate to this new Dumbo just as much.  It’s quite an inspirational tale.  It’s the film that shows us that if you try your best to overcome the obstacles life throws at you, one day Eva Green will climb on top of you and ride you like there’s no tomorrow.  I think there’s a message there for all of us.  

Tim Burton’s take on the Disney classic hits the familiar beats from the original.  The big difference is that the human characters are split 50-50 in the good and evil department.  In the original, they were pretty much bastards all around.  

Instead of Timothy (who at least has a cameo) as Dumbo’s best pal and champion, we have Colin Farrell and his kids.  Farrell comes home from the war missing an arm, with his career in the circus uncertain.  He gets put in charge of the elephants, and it’s up to him and his kids to make sure the big-eared elephant Dumbo is their next star attraction.  

The first half sticks fairly close to the original.  (There were no singing crows, though.)  I especially loved the way the old songs creeped into Danny Elfman’s score (especially “Casey Jr.”).  The second half, in which the circus gets bought out by a big corporation who wants to exploit Dumbo isn’t nearly as good, but it’s not without its charms.  I guess Burton’s message is that even if a major conglomerate owns your ass, you can still be an edgy outcast who is able to flourish and (literally) rise above your confines.    

As much as I love the original, I was glad this wasn’t a shot-for-shot remake, like what that newfangled Aladdin looks to be.  This is Tim Burton’s take on the classic tale.  There is one sequence in particular (the escape from “Devil’s Island”) that is one of the most Tim Burton-y things Tim Burton has ever done.  

The big emotional beats are taken from the original.  The new stuff is sweet and all, but not a patch on the original.  That said, those heart-tugging moments still work (mostly because the CGI Dumbo is freaking adorable), and the “Baby Mine” sequence has the power to get the waterworks going with minimum effort.  

The human cast, superfluous as they are, are still quite good.  Green is great as the trapeze artist who goes from corporate arm candy to carny mother hen.  Farrell is strong as the family man hesitant to step up and become a leader.  Danny DeVito is fun as the crotchety ringleader who’s tempted by the almighty dollar.  

Michael Keaton is probably the most interesting as the evil sleazebag.  If you notice, his accent slightly changes from scene to scene.  Sometimes he sounds French, other times, English.  Heck, there are times when you don’t know where his accent is from.  It sort of clues you in that this guy is a phony from the get-go.  

The best scene though is a cameo (which I will not spoil) that is so gratuitous, outlandish, and out of place that it almost feels like it came out of an episode of The Simpsons.  It’s so crazy that it almost takes you out of the movie.  However, it is quite hilarious (one of the biggest I’ve had at the movies in some time), so I’ll allow it.

CECILIA (1983) ** ½

The titles say Cecilia is “Jesus Franco’s Film”, but there’s also a card earlier that reads “Directed by Olivier Mathot”.  It definitely has all the pointless zooms (including one into the crotch of a cherub statue) and rampant nudity Franco is known for.  Mathot (who also appears in a supporting role) also helped Franco direct Diamonds of Kilimanjaro, so I guess it’s legit.  I’m not sure how much Mathot brought to the table, but Cecilia is a decent enough Franco/Mathot outing.  

Cecilia (Muriel Montosse) is a bored, wealthy woman who gets her kicks from stripping in the back of her limo and letting her chauffeur watch in the rear-view mirror while droning organ music plays on the soundtrack.  He gets tired of her endless teasing, so he picks up his brothers (who were fired by Cecilia for spying on her while undressing) for an unscheduled gangbang.  When she returns home, Cecilia confides to her husband (Antonio Mayans) about the attack.  He’s at first appalled by her casualness in enjoying the encounter, but she assures him, she’s more than happy to allow him to go off on his own sexual misadventures.  Eventually, all their promiscuousness threatens to pull them apart.

The opening sequence immediately gets your attention.  As with Diary of a Nymphomaniac, the rest of the movie has a hard time keeping up that level of excellence.  In fact, it’s all sort of a formless mishmash of half-assed flashbacks and sex scenes.  Some are good, like when Cecilia catches her husband making love to a woman and eventually joins in.  Others never really work up any rhythm or intensity.

Still, there’s enough Franco weirdness here to make it memorable.  There’s an orgy scene where a swami (who has eyeballs painted on his eyelids) sits crisscross-applesauce and meditates while getting a blowjob from Lina Romay.  We learn after the fact they’re a mother-son act (!) which adds to the overall oddness of the scene.  

Montosse’s willingness to parade around naked is appreciated.  Whether she’s getting into gangbangs, wandering around nude, or riding naked horseback on the beach, she’s quite a sight to behold.  Romay is equally fun to watch, although her role is rather small.

Cecilia is overlong to a fault.  It gets particularly rambling and unfocused in the third act.  The music often sounds like it came out of a skating rink, which does the sex scenes no favors.  Regardless, folks frenzying for a Franco fix will find fleeting fun from it.  

AKA:  Diary of a Desperate Housewife.  AKA:  Sexual Aberrations of a Housewife.

DIARY OF A NYMPHOMANIAC (1973) ***

Cortez (Manuel Pereiro) watches a girl on girl show in a nightclub.  A sexy prostitute named Linda (Montserrat Prous) picks him and they go back to her hotel for some drunken sex.  Things get complicated when she calls the police to report her own murder!  

People can say what they will about Jess Franco, but this set-up is worthy of Hitchcock.  I’m not saying Franco executes it as well as The Master.  However, the opening has an undeniable kick to it.  

The rest of the plot revolves around Cortez’s wife Rosa (Jacqueline Lauret) searching for Linda’s diary, which might just prove her husband’s innocence.  When Rosa reads the diary, she learns of the poor girl’s descent into the seamy world of prostitutes and strippers.  Meanwhile, we see flashbacks of Linda’s checkered past and learn how she came into her profession.  

This all sort of threatens to spin out of control, especially during the last act where Prous begins to get caught up in drugs.  Despite that, there’s enough Franco goodness here for fans to gravitate to.  The opening lesbian club scene is classic Franco (who also appears as a police captain who sits in an office that is nothing more than a poorly disguised hotel room).  Women roll around in ecstasy under red lights for a static camera until it all achieves an almost Zen quality.  Sure, there are moments where he uses unnecessary zooms and weird camera placements, but there’s at least one Ferris wheel shot that feels right out of The Third Man.

So far, I’ve compared Franco’s work in this movie to Alfred Hitchcock and Carrol Reed.  Make of that what you will.  Those hoping for a typical Franco sleaze-fest may be disappointed.  Those hoping for evidence that Franco was capable of more than a typical sleaze-fest will not.  (Although, to be sure, there is plenty of sleaze here.)  I’m not saying it all works.  The narrative is choppy, and the film never quite tops that doozy of an opening sequence.  Warts and all, Diary of a Nymphomaniac has enough eye-popping moments for Francophiles to enjoy.

Franco vet Howard Vernon appears late in the game as a doctor who gets the best line of the movie.  He tries to help our poor little nymphomaniac, and when she doesn’t respond to the treatment, he says, “Since you’re nothing more than a prostitute, you’re going to pay my bill like a prostitute!”  

AKA:  Sinner.  AKA:  Sinner:  The Secret Diary of a Nymphomaniac.  

AROUND THE WORLD WITH FANNY HILL (1974) ** ½

In director Mac Ahlberg’s sequel to 1968’s Fanny Hill, Fanny (Shirley Corrigan, taking over for Diana Kjaer) becomes unhappy in her marriage and wants a divorce from her commercial director husband Roger (Peter Bonke).  She gets her girlfriend Monica (Gaby Fuchs) to seduce Roger, so she can catch him in the act.  Together, they take the alimony and fund a trip to Hollywood.  They visit the Chinese Theater (playing The Long Goodbye) and Fanny sets her sights on getting it on with a famous actor.  She winds up being discovered, gets a big acting role, and goes from Hong Kong to Venice with the movie crew.  Along the way, Fanny wonders if she didn’t make a mistake by dumping Roger.

Around the World with Fanny Hill is a typically uneven Swedish sex comedy.  It has the same basic set-ups as most bedroom farces.  (Like the scene where Fanny tries to catch Roger in bed with Monica, unaware he’s already in bed with someone else.)  Even though the locations change, Fanny’s shenanigans get repetitive after a while.  Many of her sexual misadventures stop short of being laugh-out-loud funny, but the scene where Fanny poses as a man to seduce a bisexual marquis is quite amusing.  Too bad it ends abruptly just when it was picking up steam.

The third act kicks off with a big swinging orgy that offers up plenty of free love and nudity, although it’s not exactly hot or anything.  This is followed by a fast-motion comedy scene of Fanny trying to catch various officials in compromising positions that’s not very funny.  In fact, this the whole sequence probably could’ve been cut altogether and saved us all about ten minutes.  

Corrigan is fun to watch.  She spends a lot of time winding up naked and being found in compromising positions.  Her efforts keep you involved even when the tired comedy sputters out.  We also get to see the ever-enchanting Christina (Thriller:  A Cruel Picture) Lindberg popping up in a bit part as one of Bonke’s models.

Ahlberg went on to be the cinematographer for everyone from Charles Band to John Landis.  

AKA:  Around the World with Sex.