CRUISIN’ HIGH (1976) **

The Silks are a high school gang who are at war with a rival Mexican gang called the Rudeas.  When they kill the Silks’ leader, Punch (Derrel Maury) in a drive-by shooting, the hot-tempered Cat (David Kyle) takes command.  He orders retaliation upon the Rudeas, which leads to more dead bodies.  Cat idolizes his older brother, Joey (Steve Bond), who used to lead the Silks and is now serving a prison sentence.  Joey gets out of jail and tries to go straight, effectively turning his back on the gang.  This infuriates Cat, and he sets out to make Joey pay by killing his girlfriend (Kelly Yaegermann). 

Cruisin’ High is a ho-hum high school gang drama that feels more like a collection of clichés tossed in a blender rather than a straightforward narrative.  None of it quite works either, as it plays like a ‘50s Juvenile Delinquent flick (unsuccessfully) updated for the ‘70s drive-in crowd.  As such, it’s remarkably low on anything that would appeal to exploitation fans.  The violence is rather lightweight and the nudity is fleeting.

None of that would’ve mattered if the drama between the gang members was involving.  The conflict between the opposing gangs is negligible at best, and the stuff with the feuding brothers is introduced too late in the picture to make much of an impact by the time the finale runs around.  Director John (Day of the Nightmare) Bushelman doesn’t stage the gang violence particularly well, but the cinematography by Bruce Logan (who would go on to be the D.P. on Tron) is crisp and at least gives the scenes of gang rumbles, teacher intimidation, and classic cars cruising up and down the strip a touch of class.

Two years later, Kyle went on to play Judith Myers’ boyfriend in Halloween.

AKA:  Cat Murkil and the Silks.  AKA:  The Silks.

THE INVISIBLE MAN (2020) *

You know, in MY day when they made an Invisible Man movie, they MADE an Invisible Man movie.  Filmmakers really knew what the audience wanted to see back in those days.  They also knew exactly what a man would really do once he became invisible.  That of course, is go to the nearest girls’ locker room and spy on college girls showering.  If you don’t believe me, just go watch The Man Who Wasn’t There in 3-D, The Invisible Kid, and The Invisible Maniac.  You know, the classics.  

In this newfangled Invisible Man, there’s only one dang shower scene and the Invisible Man doesn’t even sneak a peek.  Then again, the woman in question is his wife, so he’s already seen her naked, but still.  

To make matters worse, he keeps harassing his wife and trying to drive her crazy.  He steals her bedsheets at night, makes her burn her bacon, and harms her loved ones by making it look like she did it.  Dude, you’re freaking invisible and you’re spending all your energy on your ex?  There are plenty of invisible fish in the sea.  

Remember when Universal Studios made The Mummy with Tom Cruise and it was going to open the doors for a Universal Monsters shared universe?  Except no one went to see it, so they canceled it.  The Mummy was a big budget epic with a fun sense of adventure and cool special effects.  This is like a Lifetime Movie, but with an Invisible Man.  It should’ve been called Stalked by My Invisible Ex or Escaping Invisibility or Mother, May I Sleep with the Invisible Man? or some shit.  The budget was so pathetic that there are only like six special effects shots in the whole thing and even the most rudimentary effect (like a gun floating in mid-air) looked better in the Invisible Man films from the ‘30s and ‘40s.

It’s like they forgot how to make an Invisible Man movie.  Never mind the fact that he doesn’t spy on college girls showering.  The worst aspect is that it’s not a serum that turns him invisible, it’s a suit.  That means the formula doesn’t turn him crazy, he’s already crazy from the get-go, which is a gross miscalculation.  Universal Monsters always worked when there was a tinge of sympathy.  The Wolf Man didn’t want to turn into a werewolf, Frankenstein didn’t ask to be created, Dracula was just looking for someone to love, and the Invisible Man was the victim of a side effect of a poorly tested drug.  (Nowadays, there’d be a commercial listing the possible side effects, including coughing, fever, and turning batshit insane.)  Heck, even the Universal Monsters of the 21^st century were sympathetic.   

Another miscalculation is having the whole thing hinge on the wife.  Imagine if James Whale made The Invisible Man with Gloria Stuart as the star and gave Claude Rains one freaking line for 75% of the running time.  I get what they’re trying to say.  She’s trying to escape a bad relationship, and wherever she goes, he’s still with her, even if she can’t see him.  It’s Invisible Me Too.  It’s just that the handling of everything is so TV Movie of the Week.  Give me the Mission:  Impossible, but with a Mummy treatment of the Universal classics any day.  Either that or they should’ve taken the Guillermo del Toro route and sexed up the monster a la The Shape of Water.  You can’t tell me it wouldn’t been awesome seeing the Invisible Man knocking the invisible boots.  

This Invisible Man is also one of those Woman Takes a Long Pointless Walk Down a Hallway Only to Be Frightened by the Obvious Jump Scare movie.  There’s hardly a sound for minutes on end, then the soundtrack CRASHBOOMBANGSCREECHES to overcompensate for the predictably placed jump scare.  In fact, this is probably one of the quietest films I’ve seen in a long time.  So quiet in fact that the sound from the theater next door threatened to drown out what little noise was coming from our screen.  Heck, I started getting more caught up from the sounds coming from the wall than the sights coming from the screen.  

I can’t say it’s all bad though.  There’s one great scene where a woman is being a total Karen to her server in a restaurant and the Invisible Man has enough of her shit and cuts her throat.  You know you’re in trouble with a horror movie when your most sympathetic character is the waiter.

SEXPLORER (1976) ** ½

An alien the size of a marble lands on Earth and turns itself into a beautiful naked blonde (Monika Ringwald).  After wandering about nude for a bit, she gets some clothes at a spa and takes a stroll around London gathering information for her superiors whom she complicates with telepathically.  (Who needs a boom mic when you can just dub in whole conversations in post-production?)  She also winds up in a sex shop and gets a job as a photographer’s model. Eventually, our “Sexplorer” gets an up close and personal lesson on what human sexuality is all about, much to the horror of her superiors.

Apparently, this is Quentin Tarantino’s “favorite British film”.  If you squint hard enough, you can almost see what Tarantino likes about it.   While it’s far from the “best British movie” ever made, it’s definitely one of the best British sex comedies I’ve seen.  I’ve sat through many of these things in my day and when it comes to exploitation subgenres, they are near the bottom of the barrel.  Typically, they are devoid of laughs and aren’t sexy in the least.  This one has its fair share of humorous moments, and even manages to be sort of fun in some spots.  It’s not exactly a classic or anything, but it’s intermittently amusing enough that fans of ‘70s sci-fi softcore should enjoy it.

It’s not always successful.  It’s uneven and episodic to a fault.  The wedding reception scene isn’t funny and goes on far too long, and many sequences are pointless (like when the Sexplorer bangs a guy in a room full of balloons) or just plain dumb (like when she accidentally turns green). Still, it’s just corny and likeable to keep you watching.  The theme song is great too. 

I guess the best thing you could say about Sexplorer is how inspirational it was.  It’s easy to imagine the makers or Lifeforce and Species seeing this on TV late one night and blatantly copying the scenes of a hot naked alien chick absentmindedly sightseeing for their own screenplays.  If it wasn’t for this flick, those classics would’ve never been made.  That fact alone kind of justifies Tarantino’s claims.

AKA:  The Girl from Starship Venus.  AKA:  The Discoveries of a Virgin Beauty.  AKA:  Diary of a Space Virgin.

RAT PFINK A BOO BOO (1966) ****

Wikipedia defines an auteur as “an artist, usually a film director, who applies a highly centralized and subjective control to many aspects of a collaborative creative work; in other words, a person equivalent to an author of a novel or a play.  The term commonly refers to filmmakers or directors with a recognizable style or thematic preoccupation.”  If that doesn’t describe Ray Dennis Steckler, I don’t know what does.  He’s probably best known (and rightly so) for The Incredibly Strange Creatures Who Stopped Living and Became Mixed-Up Zombies.  This, however, just might be his magnum opus.  

Rat Pfink a Boo Boo is what you get when you take a hard-hitting crime melodrama, a rock n’ roll musical, a dime-store superhero movie, and a killer ape flick, toss them in a blender, and put the setting on WTF.  Apparently, Steckler started out making the crime picture and became dissatisfied with the results.  To amuse himself (or more likely to cash in on the popularity of Batman and Robin) he had his main characters become half-assed superheroes mid-film.  He also padded out the rest of the running time with musical numbers and an attack by a guy in a (rather impressive) ape costume.  The results are Z movie heaven.

What’s interesting is that the early scenes are quite intense, given the budget and the fact that it was shot silently with the sound added in post-production.  Steckler manages to wring genuine suspense from the scenes of the trio of hoodlums mugging a woman in an alley, as well as the scenes where they verbally harass Carolyn Brandt (Steckler’s leading lady on screen and off) over the telephone.  He does a fine job on the musical sequences too (this is the guy who made Wild Guitar after all).  The editing of the performances is remarkably competent and would look right at home on MTV if it had existed in 1966.  

It’s when heartthrob singer Lonnie Lord (Ron Haydock, who also wrote the screenplay) and dim-witted gardener Titus Twimbly (Titus Moede) become their crimefighting alter egos Rat Pfink and Boo Boo does the movie really take off.  The costumes look like they came out of a dime store, but that’s kind of what makes them awesome.  The fight scenes have a filmed-in-someone’s-backyard quality to them.  What’s astonishing is that they are staged and edited with a surprising amount of panache.  You also have to give Steckler credit for staging long motorcycle chases and parade scenes with no budget and zero permits.  It’s guerilla filmmaking at its finest.  (Speaking of gorilla, the ape suit is excellent and probably ate up whatever budget Steckler was working with.)

What’s more is that the film is only 66 minutes and it moves like greased lightning.  There’s no fat on it whatsoever.  Sure, Incredibly Strange Creatures is great and all, but it bogs down like a son-of-a-bitch in the second half.  This one is over before you know it and leaves you wanting more.  

Oh, and how about that title?  You might think it’s a weird play on “a Go-Go”, but it’s not.  The onscreen title was supposed to read “Rat Pfink AND Boo Boo”, and the person who designed the titles just forgot to add the “N” and “D”.  I wish there was a better explanation for it.  Then again, the oddball title just makes the movie that much more memorable.

Today’s bloated big-budget superhero movies could take a page from Ray Dennis Steckler’s playbook.  There’s more ingenuity on display here than in a dozen MCU films.  Do you think the Russo Brothers could make something this good if they had a Ray Dennis Steckler budget?  Who knows?  I’d rather imagine what Ray could’ve done had he been given just a tenth of a budget as those guys had when they did Avengers:  Endgame.

AKA:  The Adventures of Rat Pfink and Boo Boo.

TERROR OF MECHAGODZILLA (1975) ** ½

Terror of Mechagodzilla was the last Godzilla movie directed by the iconic Ishiro Honda, and the final Godzilla film of the classic Showa Era series.  It starts off just like a Rocky sequel with a recap of the fight from the last movie, with Godzilla emerging victorious in his battle against Mechagodzilla.  Then the plot begins.  

While searching the depths of the sea for the remains of Mechagodzilla, a toy submarine… I mean… a research vessel accidentally awakens the longnecked Titanosaurus.  Meanwhile, those pesky aliens from Godzilla vs. Mechagodzilla are still trying to take over the world.  They team up with a human-hating scientist to resurrect the malignant metal monster.  The aliens bring his dead daughter back to life, and thanks to their extraterrestrial technology, use her to power Mechagodzilla.  When the revived Mechagodzilla teams up with Titanosaurus to level Tokyo, it’s up to Godzilla to save the day. 

Hopefully, you’ll be content with the stock footage-filled scenes of beastly brawling in the opening credits sequence because it takes an awful long time to get to the monster mashing in this one.  In fact, you have to wait about fifty minutes before the G-Man finally shows up.  It also doesn’t help that Titanosaurus is one of his lesser opponents.  He’s rather goofy and lacks the menace of someone like Gigan.  Also, his power to create giant wind gusts is too similar to that of Rodan, but I did like the scene where he jumps up and swats a couple of jets out of the sky the way a basketball player blocks a shot.

Once the three titans of terror finally appear on screen together, the film at last starts to kick a little ass.  The scenes of Mechagodzilla wreaking havoc on the city are impressive, and Godzilla’s fisticuffs with Titanosaurus are a lot fun.  If only Mechagodzilla didn’t spend 2/3 of the movie in the shop, this could’ve been a top-notch effort.  As it is, Terror of Mechagodzilla isn’t bad.  I mean Godzilla gets at least one legitimately badass back-from-the-grave moment that is one of the most fist-pumping scenes of any Godzilla movie.  You just have to be a patient viewer to get to it.

We also get a little nudity this time around, a rarity in a Godzilla picture.  Too bad it occurs during a brain surgery scene, so it’s not what you would call “hot” or anything.  Still, with a movie that’s as slow to start as this one is, you take what you can get.  

Godzilla didn’t appear on the big screen for another decade with the equally uneven Godzilla 1985.

AKA:  After Holocaust.  AKA:  Mechagodzilla’s Counterattack.  AKA:  Monster’s from an Unknown Planet.  AKA:  The Terror of Godzilla.  AKA:  Mechagodzilla vs. Godzilla.  AKA:  Revenge of Mechagodzilla.  AKA:  The Escape of Mechagodzilla.  

FRANKENSTEIN’S BLOODY TERROR (1968) **

Two graverobbing gypsies remove a silver cross from a corpse in the ruins of an old castle.  The body promptly comes back to life, turns into a werewolf, kills the gypsies, and begins causing havoc throughout the countryside.  Waldemar Daninsky (Paul Naschy) joins the villagers in the hunt for the beast and winds up destroying the creature himself.  During the struggle, Waldemar is bitten, and is cursed to become a werewolf when the full moon rises.  He turns to a pair of doctors to help find a cure; unaware they are vampires with their own sinister intentions. 

After watching The Beast and the Magic Sword, I decided to finally check out this first chapter in the Waldemar Daninsky Werewolf saga.  Now that I’ve seen it, it’s hard to imagine how someone could wring nearly a dozen films out of such thin material.  For the most part, it’s a slow moving and dull slog that’s curiously low on werewolf action.  The fuzzy-faced monster make-up looks pretty cool though, although it isn’t quite as polished as it would later become.  Too bad we don’t get to see much of it. 

Frankenstein’s Bloody Terror was originally titled Mark of the Wolf Man in its native Spain.  When the American distributors got a hold of it, they cut out fifteen minutes from the opening and it’s easy to see why, as it takes forever to get going.  They also added a hilariously awful animated pre-credits scene to explain how Frankenstein figures into all this.  You see, he turned into a werewolf called “Wolfstein” and, well… that’s it.  It’s purely a case of a company pre-selling a film by the title alone, and when it comes time to produce said movie, they just retitle another flick and add a cheesy prologue to make the movie match the poster.

Naschy is quite good.  His committed performance makes the movie worth watching, boring parts and all.  Director Enrique Lopez (Santo Faces Death) Eguiluz fills the film with plenty of atmosphere (especially during the final reel), but overall, it’s just too sluggishly paced to be wholly successful.

AKA:  Vampire Dracula vs. the Werewolf.  AKA:  Hell’s Creatures.  AKA:  The Mark of the Wolf Man.  AKA:  The Vampire of Dr. Dracula.  AKA:  The Werewolf’s Mark.  

THE SEXUALIST (1973) **

Jeffrey Montclair (Dale T. Fuller) is a struggling director trying to complete his latest skin flick, based on the astrological signs of the Zodiac.  Pressured by his sleazy financier, “The Godfather” (Jon Oppenheim), Jeffrey puts out a casting call to find nubile performers to make his passion project a reality.  Meanwhile, his leading lady Monica (Jennifer Welles) takes a shine to a sexy young ingenue, Inga (Barbara Benner).  When Inga winds up taking Monica’s coveted role, she sets out to get revenge.

The Sexualist is pretty much a mess.  The film-within-a-film scenes are kind of fun.  I especially liked the opening sequence about masturbation and how it relates to the specific Zodiac signs.  If the movie was nothing more than a series of astrologically themed sex scenes, it might’ve worked.

However, the behind-the-scenes drama involving the exasperated director, temperamental actresses, and actors who have trouble getting it up are a lot less successful.  The comedy shit is painfully unfunny too (like the scene with the guy in a gorilla suit), and the constant narration, which does a crummy job tying everything together, is often intrusive.  The sex scenes fluctuate from hardcore to softcore (most of the masturbation scenes include full penetration), which also gets a bit frustrating.  

The Sexualist is of interest mainly to see sex goddess Jennifer Welles as the diva leading lady who makes the director’s life a living Hell.  She looks great naked, but unfortunately, this is far from the best material she’s been given.  The subplot with Welles and Benner is OK, I guess.  It’s just that it feels like it came out of a completely different movie.

That’s basically the problem.  The Sexualist is all over the place.  There are three narratives going on, and none of them mesh.  If only it picked a storyline and stuck with it.  As it is, only the Zodiac sequences really work, and whenever the film cuts away from those scenes, it’s always a bad sign.    

AKA:  The Sexualist:  A Voyage to the World of Forbidden Love.