Saturday, January 25, 2020

RADIOACTIVE DREAMS (1986) *


Two boys are locked in an underground bunker as the bombs of WWIII begin to fall.  Having spent their formative years in a fallout shelter reading ‘40s detective novels, Phillip (John Stockwell) and Marlowe (Michael Dudikoff) emerge from the bunker fifteen years later as “atomic dicks”.  Almost immediately, they run smack into a mysterious woman (Lisa Blount) who is on the run from some shady characters who are looking for the keys to the last nuclear warhead left on earth.  Phillip and Marlowe give chase and wind up having many bizarre misadventures in the post-puke landscape. 

There’s a kernel of a good idea here, but writer/director Albert (The Sword and the Sorcerer) Pyun never figures out a way to make it pop.  The odd mix of Mad Max action, ‘40s film noir inspiration, and ‘80s teen comedy doesn’t gel.  The plot is nearly incoherent as our heroes have run-ins with everything from foulmouthed kids that look like Bugsy Malone versions of Al Pacino in Scarface to ‘50s style greasers to mutant cannibals to giant monsters.  None of it remotely works and it feels more like a checklist of shit Pyun wanted to put into a movie than a movie itself.

The incomprehensible plotting has nothing on the dingy cinematography.  Like many of Pyun’s movies of the era, it’s often ugly and unpleasant to look at.  The combination of dark shadows and grimy looking locations and sets make it hard to tell what’s going on some of the time.  The repetitive rock soundtrack gets annoying fast, and many sequences just feel like a bad MTV music video.

For a movie whose characters are obsessed with ‘40s detectives, it really doesn’t lean into the film noir clichés until late in the game.  I’m not sure why it took so long for the film to embrace the genre because these scenes are definitely the strongest stretch of the picture.  It’s still not very good mind you, but it’s certainly better than the cruddy sequences of our heroes hanging out in dark and grody punk rock nightclubs. 

Stockwell isn’t bad, but Dudikoff is thoroughly annoying.  While he was quite good in the American Ninja movies, he’s not much of a comedic actor, and his constant mugging and whiny demeanor are like nails on a chalkboard.  Blount gives the film a fleeting spark, although she is sadly underutilized as the femme fatale.  Even if she was given more to do, I’m not sure it would’ve prevented Radioactive Dreams from being a total snoozer. 

Wednesday, January 22, 2020

THE RAGE (1998) **


Lorenzo Lamas stars as an FBI “Mindhunter” on the trail of a madman played by Gary Busey.  His superior (Roy Scheider) hates Lorenzo’s guts, so he saddles him with a wet-behind-the-ears agent (Kristen Cloke), hoping they’ll screw up and Roy can finally fire his ass.  After a rocky start, the two agents eventually combine their resources to stop Busey and his trigger-happy militia members from assassinating a bunch of politicians during a woodland weekend retreat.

Directed by Sidney J. (Superman IV:  The Quest for Peace) Furie, The Rage is uneven, overlong, and undercooked.  It often feels like two scripts were haphazardly stapled together.  Busey’s character starts out like a serial killer/rapist in the early scenes, but by the end of the movie, he’s leading a team of trigger-happy Ruby Ridge-inspired militia members.  They probably should’ve dropped all the stuff with him being a rapist because it lends an air of unpleasantness to the film that prevents it from being fun.  

I mean what can you say about a movie that features A) Its lead female character dealing with the repercussions of being molested by the villain and B) A random Kung Fu battle between Lorenzo Lamas and Roy Scheider?  The tone is just too all over the place to work.  Not to mention the fact that Busey’s character’s backstory is blatantly stolen from Women’s Prison Massacre.  

Furie does deliver on the action.  The car chase through a steeplechase course is a lot of fun, and I liked the sequence when Lamas’ car gets stuck underneath a speeding tractor trailer.  The climax, in which Busey is set on fire and still proceeds to do battle with Lamas, is unintentionally hilarious too.  It’s just that the jarring shifts in tone prevent it from ever getting into gear.

Lamas is more straitlaced than usual, but he still gets in a couple of funny quips.  He has a lot of chemistry with Cloke, who is asked to endure a lot of unnecessary unpleasantness.  Busey is entertaining to watch, and Scheider seems to be having fun, even though he is clearly slumming.  We also get a completely random cameo by David Carradine who provides a gratuitous exposition dump mid-movie, only to be abruptly killed off.

BAD BLOOD (1994) ***


Travis (Lorenzo Lamas) is an ex-cop who went to jail for destroying evidence to keep his younger brother Franklin (Hank Cheyne) out of prison.  When Franklin rips off the cartel for five million bucks, it’s once again up to Travis to protect him.  Franklin just so happens to be married to Travis’ former flame (Bad Lieutenant’s Frankie Thorn), which further complicates their already strained relationship. 

You know Bad Blood is going to be better than your average Lorenzo Lamas actioner when you see it was directed by the great Tibor Takacs.  This is the guy that directed minor '80s classics such as The Gate and I, Madman; not to mention Mansquito, one of the best Syfy Channel movies of all time.  Takacs infuses the film with enough quirky touches (like when Lamas beats up some thugs after a Little League practice), gratuitous T & A (Thorn, along with Skinamax sirens Nikki Fritz, Kim Dawson, and Kimberley Kates eagerly participate in softcore sex and/or stripping scenes), and non-stop action to keep things moving along at a steady clip.

Much of the film feels like a low rent version of a John Woo movie, and I mean that in the best possible way.  Nearly all the action sequences feature an abundance of slow motion during the shootouts, chase scenes, and Kung Fu battles.  Actually, there’s probably a bit too much slow motion, but it’s hard to complain when the plot moves faster than the action.  The finale is a hoot as Lamas dispatches the villains in a variety of ways including explosions, electrocutions, and forklifts.  In fact, this movie would make a great double feature with Death Wish V:  The Face of Death as both films came out in 1994, feature deaths by forklift, and conclude with its villain taking a dip in an acid bath.

Lamas once again delivers a fine performance and gets to show off an array of Kung Fu moves in his fight scenes.  He also uses a nice assortment of weapons such as bats, bricks, and pipes to bludgeon the bad guys senseless.  The supporting cast is equally strong.  Cheyne is well-cast as Lamas’ brother as they strongly resemble one another.  Thorn makes for a great leading lady, and John P. Ryan is a lot of fun as Lamas’ crotchety father.  Their combined efforts help keep Bad Blood in good standing with the audience.

AKA:  Viper.

DJINN (2013) ** ½


An Arabic couple still mourning the death of their infant decide to leave America and return to the United Arab Emirates.  While Khalid (Khalid Laith) goes off to work, his emotionally sensitive wife Salama (Razane Jammel) is left alone in their swanky apartment.  It doesn’t take long for her to realize something is seriously wrong with the place.  You see, it was built on an ancient village haunted by an evil spirit (or djinn) who, predictably, has sinister intentions for Salama.

Djinn isn’t quite successful, but it certainly is an interesting variation on the usual horror formula.  We’ve seen countless horror movies that draw from Christianity to supply their title character.  This is a rare flick that draws from Islamic lore, which at the very least is enough to make it memorable.  I also liked that the couple’s use of English and Arabic was about 50/50, which gives the impression that they don’t feel at home in either country.

Djinn was the last film directed by Tobe (The Texas Chainsaw Massacre) Hooper.  He does a fine job setting up the premise.  Before long, it reveals itself to be a slight reworking of the Rosemary’s Baby formula as it revolves around a couple who moves into an odd apartment with kooky neighbors that hold ominous dinner parties and have diabolic intentions.  The big difference here, of course, is our heroine isn’t pregnant, but is grieving the loss of her baby.  There are also some nods to the J-Horror genre as the sinister specter’s hair floats along ceilings and walls.  Even though much of this may feel familiar, despite the novel setting, Hooper is still able to make these sequences work by using odd camera angles and playing with the timing of scares to keep the audience off guard. 

Unfortunately, the ending is abrupt, unsatisfying, and just plain sucks.  I don’t know if they ran out of money or time or what, but it doesn’t work at all.  Nevertheless, there’s some cool stuff happening here and there.  There’s just not enough of it to make the movie totally worth recommending.  It’s a shame it was Hooper’s final project because it’s one of his best late-era films. 

Monday, January 20, 2020

SHAKMA (1990) * ½


Int.  Producer’s Office.  Hollywood.  Day.

Producer #1:  Killer Monkey movies all the rage with the kids today.  The box office returns from Link and Monkey Shines prove that.  We’ve got to strike while the iron is hot.  What do you have for me?

Screenwriter:  Well, I have a lot of ideas actually.  First, we can…

Producer #1 (Pours a giant pile of cocaine on his desk):  Hold up, before we begin, I’m not spending much on this thing.  What can we afford to put in this movie?  

Producer #2:  Well, I have a buddy who can give me the keys to the science building at the local community college.  Also, my kids really love that Dungeons and Dragons computer game crap, maybe we can work that into the plot somehow.

Producer #1 (Chopping up the coke with a razor blade):  What about star power?   

Producer #2:  We could probably afford that kid from The Blue Lagoon, although he’s not a kid anymore and is way too old to play a college student.  Maybe one of the girls from A Nightmare on Elm…

Producer #1 (Putting the cocaine into neat little lines):  Don’t give me that!  I need a big name!  

Producer #2:  How about someone like Roddy McDowall?

Producer #1 (Snorts a big line of cocaine):  He was just in those Fright Night movies.  I bet he’s expensive.  We can probably only afford him for one day.  Two tops.  What about the monkey?

Producer #2 (Snorts a big line of cocaine):  I have that all worked out.  A friend of mine runs a zoo and has a red-assed baboon we can use.

Producer #1:  Is it trained?

Producer #2:  All it knows how to do is run after someone who is about to close a door.  Then when the door is shut, it pounds its fists against the door and screams.

Screenwriter (Snorts a big line of cocaine):  Perfect!  I can write dozens of scenes where it’s chasing characters in the science building and just when it’s about the strike, the character shuts the door just in the nick of time.  

Producer #2:  Hmm… will it be suspenseful?

Screenwriter:  Hell no.  But it will pad out the film.

Producer #1 (Snorts a big line of cocaine):  So, wait.  Why are they in the science building again?

Screenwriter (Rubbing cocaine along his gums):  I have that all worked out.  Since we’re making the computer game a big plot point, the characters can be LARPing.

Producer #2 (Snorts a big line of cocaine):  What the hell is that?

Screenwriter (Snorts a big line of cocaine):  It’s like playing Dungeons and Dragons.  Except instead of being huddled in a basement, they wander around the halls picking up clues and…

Producer #1:  This sounds like nerd shit.  Where does Roddy come in?

Screenwriter:  We’ll just sit him at a desk for three-quarters of his screen time.  He can facilitate the game as the dungeon master and communicate with the students via walkie-talkie.

Producer #2:  That way we can shoot all his scenes while everyone else is at lunch.  Perfect.  So, how will it all fit together?

Screenwriter (Snorts three big lines of cocaine):  These nerdy med students lock themselves in a science building after hours so they can do live-action D & D shit with their professor, played by Roddy.  You see, he performed an experiment on the baboon’s brain to increase its aggressiveness.  His students were SUPPOSED destroy the baboon, but the dumbasses were so wrapped up with their roleplaying shit that they forget to cremate it.  Then, the pissed-off baboon breaks loose and begins killing the students.

Producer #1 (Reaching into his desk to get some more cocaine):  This is gonna be great.  This is gonna be a respectable picture.  Like all respectable pictures, it’s got to be over a hundred minutes long.

Screenwriter:  Sir, with this thin of a plot there’s no way we can make this thing last over a hundred minutes.  There’s barely enough plot here for an eighty-minute movie.

Producer #1 (Chops up a big pile of cocaine):  If that’s the case we have to pad out the movie a bit.  No big deal.  Most of these things are nothing but long scenes of people splitting up and slowly walking down hallways anyway. 

Screenwriter:  Even if I put in double the usual amount of those scenes, it still won’t be long enough. 

Producer #2 (Pulls out a glass vial of cocaine from his sportscoat and snorts the contents):  I know!  How about if every time the hero finds a dead body of his classmate, he picks them up and moves them around from room to room. 

Screenwriter:  Why would he do that?

Producer #2:  I have no idea, but it will eat up a lot of screen time. 

Screenwriter:  Roger that.  Speaking of bodies, how will the characters be killed if the killer is a baboon? 

Producer #1 (Snorts a big line of cocaine):  Well.  It’s a baboon.  Probably the only thing it can do is rip people’s throats out.

Producer #2 (Snorts a big line of cocaine):  Besides, we only have room in the budget for one cockamamie gore effect.  

Screenwriter (Snorts a big line of cocaine):  Well, at least let’s make that memorable.  How about if a guy accidentally pours acid in his face and it melts off. 

Producer #1 (Snorts a big line of cocaine):  Brilliant.  I think my face is melting off as we speak.  (Snorts another line of cocaine) So, do we have a title?

Screenwriter (Snorts an enormous line of cocaine):  Yes.  (Snorts another line for good measure) Shakma.

Producer #2 (Snorts massive line of cocaine):  What the fuck does that mean?

Screenwriter (Bleeding profusely from the nostrils):  I have no fucking clue.  I’m so high right now I’m just making words up.

Producer #1:  Great.  We start shooting in the morning.  Right now, we have to snort some more cocaine!

AKA:  Panic in the Tower.  AKA:  Nemesis. 

SANTO IN THE MYSTERY OF THE BLACK PEARL (1976) * ½


If the opening moments of Santo in the Mystery of the Black Pearl seem familiar to you, it’s because they have been taken entirely from Sam Fuller’s 1969 film, Shark.  Even though the editor tried to chop up the truck chase scene so you couldn’t tell who was driving, he clearly missed a few shots of Burt Reynolds’ face.  I can’t say this is a very good Lucha Libre flick, but what I can say is that this is probably the only time you’ll get to see Burt Reynolds and El Santo in the same movie, albeit not together. 

Like most bad El Santo movies, it takes a long time before he appears.  Not only do you have to sit through a long stretch of Shark, but there’s also a lethargic musical sequence taken from a much older film that makes the footage from that flick look ancient in comparison.  Later, there’s a nightclub act as well as a native dance routine that further pads the running time out.  There’s also an unrelated six-woman tag-team match, which is the kind of padding I don’t mind. 

After a good twenty minutes or so, El Santo finally shows up.  He gets an assignment to go after some jewel thieves who want to get their hands on some valuable pearls, none of which were black, as far as I could tell.  At least I think that’s what happened since my Spanish is limited and I watched the movie without the benefit of subtitles.  Even if I could make head or tails of the plot, the dingy cinematography, haphazard use of multiple film stocks (all of which are of poor quality), and slipshod editing (the continuity in the wrestling scenes is particularly laughable as the grapplers change positions on the mat several times because of all the jump cuts) make this one a tough sit.

I’ll admit, the film does have its moments, but the slow underwater scenes and frustrating pace keep Santo in the Mystery of the Black Pearl on the lower end of the El Santo spectrum.  It doesn’t help that El Santo only participates in one wrestling match.  He does get into a number of scrapes with various villains outside the ring though.  The best fight is his brawl with a guard in a prison cell that occurs late in the picture.  

Too bad El Santo seems to get knocked out, drugged, or indisposed of a lot in this one.  I mean not once but TWICE he’s left all by himself in the ocean and has to rely on helpful passersby to save his bacon.  The scene in which he’s tied to a post against the slowly rising tide has all the makings for a suspenseful sequence, but the resolution is so arbitrary that it takes the fun right out of it.  Thank goodness so many people just happened along to rescue El Santo, or this might’ve been his last adventure!

AKA:  Secret Mission in the Caribbean.

Sunday, January 19, 2020

MY BREAKFAST WITH BLASSIE (1983) ***


Andy Kaufman and “Classy” Freddie Blassie star in this spoof of Louis Malle’s My Dinner with Andre.  I can’t imagine anyone outside of die-hard Kaufman (or wrestling) fans enjoying this, as it’s mostly an extension of his wrestling gimmick.  (He’s still wearing the neck brace from when Jerry “The King” Lawler “broke his neck” with a pile driver.)  Even as a fan of Kaufman, Blassie, and co-director Johnny Legend, I have to admit that it sort of wears out its welcome before the credits roll (and it runs just under an hour too).  However, since there’s only a finite amount of Kaufman’s filmed performances, it’s still worth watching, if only as a curio piece.  

Kaufman and Blassie go to breakfast and discuss among other things, personal hygiene, annoying autograph seekers, and wrestling.  As they eat, they’re pestered by fans and Andy tries to pick up a girl (played by his real-life girlfriend, Linda Margulies, Johnny Legend’s sister).  Things turn sour when an annoying fan (Kaufman’s writing partner, Bob Zmuda) pukes on the floor.  

My Breakfast with Blassie was shot on video to give it the look like it was actually happening live.  (There were only two or three cameras used so it looks like an old Folgers commercial.)  Even though everyone involved (except for maybe the waitress) is clearly in on the joke, it still feels kind of staged.  That doesn’t mean it’s not funny when Kaufman gets irritated at the diner patrons and begins mocking them.  The table talk between he and Blassie is quite amusing too and it’s fun just hearing them swapping bits of wrestling minutia back and forth.  

All of this should be amusing for fans of Kaufman and his unique brand of humor.  What’s it all mean in the end?  Not much, I’m afraid.  It might not be the breakfast of champions, but I’m certainly glad I watched My Breakfast with Blassie.