ASSAULT OF THE REBEL GIRLS (1959) ½ *

Assault of the Rebel Girls was Errol Flynn’s last movie, and what a depressing swan song it is.  Legend goes Flynn owed an investor another movie on his contract.  In a pinch, he took footage from Cuban Story, a pro-Castro documentary he directed, had his drinking buddy Barry (The Beast Who Killed Women) Mahon film a handful of new “dramatic” scenes, and cobbled this together.  Flynn appeared as “The American” (who is basically himself) and gave the leading lady role to his seventeen-year-old girlfri… uh… “protege”, Beverly Aadland.  The results are akin to watching a partially dramatized newsreel directed by Coleman Francis.

The plot has Flynn going down to Cuba to see firsthand the rise of Castro.  Meanwhile, an American girl played by Aadland searches for her boyfriend who left home to join up with the revolution.  Naturally, it doesn’t take long for her to get caught up in the cause.

Assault of the Rebel Girls is shoddy in every way imaginable.  The bulk of the film is comprised of long scenes of documentary footage narrated by Flynn.  The Cuban footage is mind-numbingly dull, which makes the hour-long running time feel about three times longer.  I mentioned Coleman Francis earlier, and that’s really the best comparison I can make.  Assault of the Rebel Girls would make an ideal double feature with Francis’ Red Zone Cuba as both contain long, perplexing stretches where nothing happens.  

Although the ads made a big deal about Aadland being Flynn’s protégé, she can’t act to save her life.  She manages to botch even the simplest of line readings.  (I did like her delivery of this chestnut though:  “The man I love is somewhere in this lousy, stinking jungle and I’m gonna find him!”)  It’s almost as if Flynn wasn’t even teaching her how to act!  What’s interesting is that even in their scenes together, there is zero chemistry between them.  That’s kind of odd for a pair who are allegedly banging… I mean…. engaged in a mentor/protégé relationship.

The mixture of turgid love story, half-assed war scenes, and haphazard insertion of documentary footage will leave you doubting your sanity.  You can’t blame Flynn for looking blitzed.  I’d be drunk as a skunk while making this turkey too.  (He especially looks hammered during his final pro-Castro speech to the camera.) 

This was Mahon’s first feature.  It’s probable that most of the movie’s problems weren’t his fault as he was likely just doing what Flynn told him to do.  Thankfully, Mahon got much better at directing, especially once he turned his talents to the nudie-cutie market.  (There’s a brief skinny-dipping scene that sort of portends Mahon’s eventual nudie career, although nothing is shown.)  

Mahon was the real-life inspiration for the Steve McQueen character in The Great Escape.  If you ask me, Hollywood really needs to make an Ed Wood-style biopic about his life.  Unlike Plan 9, Assault of the Rebel Girls isn’t enjoyable in the least.  However, the circumstances around its creation ensure its place in cult movie history. 

AKA:  Cuban Rebel Girls.

THE KILLING KIND (1973) ***

Terry (John Savage) is an already disturbed young man when his friends force him to participate in a gang rape.  He takes the rap for his friends and winds up going to prison.  Terry gets out two years later, much to the delight of his overbearing and suffocating mother (Ann Sothern).  She thinks everything will be okay since he’s safe at home, but unbeknownst to her, Terry sneaks out at night and gets revenge on the people he blames for landing him in jail.  Meanwhile, a pretty boarder (Cindy Williams, the same year as American Graffiti) and a sexually repressed neighbor (Dementia 13’s Luana Anders) take a shine to Terry and try to seduce him, which makes him even more emotionally unstable.

Directed with admirable restraint by Curtis (Night Tide) Harrington, The Killing Kind has a unique creepy vibe and an air of sinister atmosphere that hangs over the entire movie.  Harrington is more interested in examining the relationships between his conflicted characters than he is getting bogged down with cliched plot devices and delivering scares.  The dynamic between Savage and Sothern has passing similarities to Psycho (there’s even a bathtub version of Hitchcock’s shower scene), but Harrington prefers to get under the characters’ skin and find out what makes them tick to orchestrating suspenseful set pieces.  Because of that, there are some stretches where nothing happens, but the performances are strong enough to make up for some of the lengthy, sluggish passages.

Savage is great, and his tortured performance keeps you invested even when the movie is spinning its wheels.  Sothern brings a fun energy to the film too.  You’re never quite sure what she’s going to do next.  The best performance comes from Anders, who in the movie’s most memorable scene tries to drunkenly proposition Savage.

So, if you enjoy moody atmosphere rather than cheap thrills, and prefer multi-faceted characters to standard-issue horror movie victims, then The Killing Kind will be your kind of film.

CHOOSE ME (1984) ***

From the outset, writer/director Alan Rudolph’s Choose Me looks like it’s going to be a sexy thriller, but as it turns out, it’s more of an offbeat drama that’s less about sex and more about loneliness and longing.  A character finds someone they yearn and desire, yet somehow they wind up sleeping with someone else.  They feel lost and lonely, but their desire pushes them like a broken compass to places they probably shouldn’t go with people they don’t necessarily need to be with.

Lesley Ann Warren is a bar owner who gets new roommate played by Genevie Bujold.  She’s a call-in radio show host who specializes in sex therapy.  She’s traveling incognito so she can better research Warren, a frequent caller to the show.  Keith Carradine is a mental house parolee and habitual liar (or is he?) who becomes the object of desire by not only Warren, but the other female customers.

Characters intersect, most times at the bar, and leave an indelible impression on one another.  When they’re not in each other’s thoughts they’re in someone else’s thoughts (or beds).  Jazz music runs throughout the film, and the way Rudolph allows scenes to play out often feels like visual jazz.  Sometimes the riffs have structure.  Other times not.  It’s not so much about the notes, but the feeling.  

The cinematography is also kind of dreamy.  The sky often looks unnaturally purple.  The bar is filled with over stylized light, making it feel like someone’s memory of a bar rather than a functioning business. 

Choose Me maybe spins its wheels a bit too much.  There are a few narrative dead ends too, and it goes on a good fifteen minutes longer than necessary, but it’s still an engrossing little sleeper.  That’s mostly due to the performances.  Carradine and especially Warren, are terrific.  Their scenes together particularly crackle.  Some of the other interaction among the cast are a little on the uneven side, but whenever they are front and center, Choose Me is worth choosing. 

BERNIE (2012) *** ½

At its heart, director Richard Linklater’s Bernie is a true crime story.  It’s a smart and darkly funny black comedy that caters to the demands of the genre but is told through Linklater’s distinct prism.  He knows that the best true crime movie characters don’t start out as villains.  Part of the fun of the film comes from seeing what drives such a seemingly nice guy like Bernie to murder.

Only Linklater could’ve done a true crime thriller this way.  He uses real townspeople who knew Bernie as interview subjects, much like a documentarian would.  They provide commentary on the action as it unfolds, with actors dramatizing the events.  It’s a perfect blend of reel and real.  It’s part documentary and part re-enactment.  Even though it doesn’t sound like something Linklater would be interested in, the results are very much in his wheelhouse.

Jack Black stars as Bernie, the assistant mortician in a small East Texas town.  Bernie is an unassuming, effeminate, emphatic, and all-around good Christian who is well-loved in the town, especially by the elderly ladies.  Bernie is such a nice guy that he even charms the usually venomous widow (Shirley MacLaine), who eventually takes a shine to him.  She lavishes him with gifts and has him accompany her on expensive trips in exchange for companionship.  Even a nice guy like Bernie has his breaking point though.  As she becomes crueler and her grip more suffocating, Bernie finally snaps and does away with the old broad once and for all.

Black is great as Bernie.  It’s a real showcase for him.  Not only does he get to explore a nice range of comedy and drama, he gets to do a lot of singing too (everything from hymns to showtunes).  It’s Matthew McConaughey who steals the movie though as the overly anxious prosecutor who’s ready to railroad Bernie.  What makes his scenes work is that the townsfolk are all on Bernie’s side, only because they all know just how much of a bitch MacClaine’s character was.  

Speaking of MacLaine, her character is the only real debit as she’s basically one-note.  It’s nothing she hasn’t done in other movies like Guarding Tess or Steel Magnolias.  Maybe if she wasn’t such an old biddy, it would’ve added some moral ambiguity to the picture.  As it is, you’re practically rooting for Bernie to shoot her from the get-go.  Still, that doesn’t detract too much from the overall fun of the movie.

ADAPTATION. (2002) ***

Nicolas Cage stars in the dual role of screenwriter Charlie Kaufman and his identical twin brother Donald in Spike Jonze’s offbeat, absurdist, uneven, but mostly engaging Adaptation.  Crippled by self-doubt and writer’s block, Charlie finds himself unable to adapt the book The Orchid Thief into a screenplay.  When all else fails, he injects himself and his various crises into the story.  That ultimately gets himself in hot water once he finally meets the book’s author (Meryl Streep) and the real-life title character (Chris Cooper).

The scenes of the painfully shy Cage attempting to navigate his everyday life pack a punch.  You really feel for him, especially when you see the people he perceives as lesser talents getting all the accolades while he struggles with his own work.  Cage gives two separate and distinct performances as the introvert Charlie and the gloriously oblivious Donald.  You can always tell who is who because everything from their posture to their mannerisms to their tone of voice is so specific and uniquely their own.  Even though the performances are somewhat exaggerated (heck, Donald is a fictional character to begin with), there is a nugget of truth that runs throughout both performances, which makes them engaging and sympathetic to the audience.

The sections devoted to Streep becoming closer to the subject of her book aren’t nearly as involving.  Both performers do a fine job (Cooper even won an Oscar for his performance), but they just don’t hit the emotional beats that Kaufman’s storyline does.  Once the two plots finally intersect, it’s admittedly fun seeing the way the movie embraces the very clichés that Kaufman has resisted.  However, it just misses sticking the landing.

Still, it’s fun seeing the cast giving such brave performances.  Heck, Susan Orlean, the author of The Orchid Thief must be a helluva good sport (or has a crappy lawyer) to allow herself to be portrayed the way she is here.  Fans of Jonze’s Being John Malkovich (which was also written by Kaufman) will enjoy seeing cameos from that film’s cast and crew, which adds to the surreal vibe of the movie.

HONKY TONK NIGHTS (1978) **

Carol (Head) Doda stars as a former stripper trying to make it big as a country singer.  Carol gets her big break after saloon owner Georgina Spelvin fires the headliner (Serena) after she’s nearly raped by the bar patrons.  Her opening night is ruined when the audience begins chanting, “Take it off!” and a drunk rips the chesty Carol’s top off.  She then tries to regain the courage to go back on stage and sing her heart out.

Honky Tonk Nights is a crude sexploitation flick that cashes in on the country and western craze of the late ‘70s.  Its chief asset is the solid cast of porn starlets and ex-strippers trying to “act” while still getting naked at the drop of a hat.  (Well, Georgina keeps her clothes on, unfortunately.)  I’m not sure if you’ll care about the characters or their various hardships, but Carol and Serena are nude so much throughout the movie that it’s hard to completely dismiss it.  

Director Charles Webb, a vet of dozens of XXX movies basically approaches the material as he would a typical hardcore flick.  He keeps the yakking to a minimum and gets to the sex in short order.  Webb even manages to spice up the not-terrible country singing by introducing a little nudity into the numbers here and there when he can.

Honky Tonk Nights moves at a relatively brisk pace for most of the scant seventy-minute running time.  Too bad things pretty much fall apart in the third act.  The needless subplots involving sabotage at a local stunt show and a crooked businessman trying to steal Spelvin’s bar out from under her bog things down considerably.  Still, as far as “real” movies from porno filmmakers go, you can do much worse.

LOVE CAMP (1981) ****

Love Camp is one of Laura Gemser’s best movies, which is really saying something.  Although she looks breathtaking as usual, much of the credit has to go to Christian Anders, who was a one-man wrecking crew on this flick.   He stars, wrote, produced, directed, performed the music, and even sings the theme song, “Love, Love, Love”.  As far as theme songs from Laura Gemser films go, it’s no “Run, Cheetah, Run”, but it’s a decent little toe-tapper.  There are also two other numbers that have to be seen to be believed.  I guess what I’m getting at here is, this is the best rock n’ roll Kung Fu sex cult fake Emanuelle musical of all time.

Anders plays Dorian, who recruits new members for his love cult by singing “Love, Love, Love” on a beach, putting leis around young girls’ necks, and kissing them on the cheek.  Patricia (Simone Brahmann) is a Senator’s daughter who quickly falls under Dorian’s spell.  Dorian’s goddess is “The Divine One” (the one and only Laura Gemser) who wants to bring Patricia into the fold and steal all her money so she can set up a new, expanded sex cult.  

You see, the place is in financial straits, and in order to fund their operations, Dorian keeps a few girls in a makeshift bordello where customers give “donations” to the cult in exchange for sex.  Meanwhile, inside the walls of the camp, cult members play Ring Around the Rosie naked, paint nude figure models, hold rock concerts, and even practice karate!  Gemser’s real-life husband Gabrielle Tinti is the police inspector working undercover as a cult member who’s trying to bust Gemser and shut the place down.

We all know Gemser is one of the screen’s greatest sex goddesses, but in Love Camp she actually gets to play one.  I especially loved the scene when a couple announces they're monogamous, and the irate Gemser has them whipped!  Later on, when she feels she has failed her God, she even whips herself!  That’s dedication!  Another thing that makes her an ideal goddess is that whenever one of her followers wants to make love to her, she readily plops down and lets them go to town!  Man, give me some of that old-time religion!  That’s not even mentioning the great final scene when she literally goes out with a bang!

Even if Love Camp was nothing more than wall-to-wall fucking and non-stop scenes of Gemser getting naked (which is exactly what it is), it would still be enormously entertaining.  The thing that elevates the film into the ranks of the greatest fake Emanuelle movies of all time is the kitchen sink approach.  The inclusion of the then ripped-from-the-headlines Jim Jones plotline is just macabre enough to give the picture an extra dimension of sleaze.  Then, there are the full-on rock n’ roll numbers that are equal parts patented ridiculousness and flat-out awesomeness.  I guarantee your jaw will drop more than a few times while watching this one.

What I’m getting at is, this is yet another gem from Gemser.  Any Gemser fan worth their salt will want to check it out immediately.  If you’ve never heard of Gemser or seen a fake Emanuelle movie, I highly recommend Love Camp.  It just might change your religion.

AKA:  Divine Emanuelle.  AKA:  Love Cult.  AKA:  Divine Emanuelle:  Love Cult.  AKA:  Death Goddess of the Love Camp.