HOLLYWOOD HIGH PART 2 (1981) *

I never saw Hollywood High Part 1, but something tells me there weren’t enough dangling plot threads from that film to warrant a sequel.  Even though the original remains unviewed by my eyes, it’s pretty safe to assume Part 2 is completely unrelated to that flick.  Heck, there were even times when I doubted it was related to itself.

The plot, and I use that term loosely, has three sets of horny teenagers necking, going to the beach, necking, throwing pool parties, and necking.  Occasionally they go to school when time permits.  Sometimes, a cop (played by ‘70s sexploitation vet Con Covert, who usually, but not this time, dresses in drag) hassles them, but the teens get payback on him when they take pictures of him smooching with his mistress.  He eventually gets the upper hand when he catches the teenage boys making time with their sex-starved teachers, which gets them in hot water with their respective girlfriends.  

Much of Hollywood High Part 2 relies on long, sluggish scenes of the teens hanging out.  These scenes are unimaginatively filmed too, and usually done in one long master shot.  Eventually, someone will say something like, “Hey, let’s all go into the jacuzzi!” or “Fuck it, let’s get stoned!” and some semblance of action occurs.  Most of the time though, it’s just nothing more than a lot of boring scenes of the teens ambling along the beach, cruising down the Strip in their car, or splashing around in the pool.

These inane teenage shenanigans might’ve been bearable if the T & A quotient was higher.  As it is, we get a few OK nude scenes, but for the most part, it’s a lot of skinny-dipping and topless sunbathing sequences.  Cinematographer Gary Graver has certainly done better work than this, although I’m sure the grainy print I saw isn’t the best example of his talents.

DEATH RACE: BEYOND ANARCHY (2018) *

1975’s Death Race 2000 is one of my favorite productions from Roger Corman’s New World Pictures.  Paul W.S. Anderson’s 2008 remake was a top shelf Jason Statham vehicle that was better than it had any right being.  Its sequel was less than stellar, but the recent sequel to Corman’s original film, Death Race 2050 was breezy dumb fun.  Somehow, I didn’t see Death Race 3, but that didn’t stop me from seeing this fourth entry in the remake cycle. 

In the near future, the Death Race has expanded to a massive prison known as “The Sprawl”.  Frankenstein (Velislov Pavlov) now rules over the racers with an iron fist.  A new inmate named Connor (Zach McGowan) teams up with a grizzled prisoner named Baltimore Bob (Danny Glover) to beat Frankenstein at his own game and take over his throne. 

Beyond Anarchy is closer to Mad Max in inspiration than the original Death Race, with a little Escape from New York thrown in there, just because.  I wouldn’t have minded the blatant homages so much if the execution was borderline competent.  However, this one is pretty much a chore to get through thanks to the rampant ADD editing.  Many sequences feel like leftover footage from a Korn video, and the editing is especially incoherent during the racing and action scenes.  Beyond anarchy is right. 

It’s also weird that they make Frankenstein the villain this time out.  Imagine if Mad Max was the villain in Fury Road, and that’s kind of what it’s like.  Now, I didn’t see Part 3, so I don’t know if there was some incident in that film that changed his character and turned him into a half-assed Colonel Kurtz, but I highly doubt it.

There are a few not-terrible parts.  The nudity is rather plentiful, bordering on completely random.  We also get an OK game of motorcycle chicken.  It’s just that at 111 minutes… yes… 111 minutes, it goes on forever.  There are way too many subplots, irritating supporting characters, and superfluous action beats that make this race a marathon rather than a sprint.  Add to that the fact that it is sorely lacking the zany spirit of the original (or at the very least the brain-dead fun of the remake) and you have yourself a helluva slog on your hands. 

The original Death Race 2000 was a lean and mean 79 minutes.  Part of its success was that it didn’t wear out its welcome.  This one has too many preliminary races (including an actual Death Foot Race) and undercooked subplots that could’ve easily been cut out without anyone missing them.  In fact, the Death Race in this one starts at the 79-minute mark; right when the original film would’ve been over! 

Strangely, the race scenes in the third act feel rushed and are frantically over-edited.  It’s particularly strange when you consider how slow moving and dragged-out the first eighty minutes were.  Plus, it seems like the drivers spend a lot of time getting out of their cars to engage in fights and shootouts with one another, which kind of goes against the whole aspect of racing.  

McGowan has no screen presence whatsoever, so it’s hard to root for him.  The character of Frankenstein is even worse.  He’s devolved over the years from an iconic drive-in hero to just some biker dude in a mask, which is equal parts frustrating and heartbreaking.  Glover is basically there to earn a paycheck as he merely goes through the motions as the obligatory mentor figure, and Danny Trejo is given fuck-all to do as the bookie taking bets on the race. 

If there was more of an emphasis on the race itself, and the racing scenes were clearly photographed and edited properly, this might’ve been a passable sequel.  Heck, even if the action sequences still sucked and it clocked in at 79 minutes, I could’ve been more generous.  As it stands, this Death Race feels more like a Bataan Death March.

AKA:  Death Race 4:  Anarchy.  AKA:  Death Race:  Anarchy.

THE WONDERFUL LAND OF OZ (1969) *

A boy named Tip (Channy Mahon, son of the director, Barry Mahon) creates a walking talking pumpkin man using his evil stepmother’s magic. When she discovers what he’s done, Tip and his new pal escape to Oz where they learn that Emerald City has been taken over by an all-girl army of babes in ‘60s stewardess outfits.  With the help of Scarecrow, the Tin Man and a bug-eyed guy, the friends set out to restore the throne. 

Mahon also directed Santa and the Ice Cream Bunny, so that might give you an idea of what you’re in for.  I’m something of a Mahon apologist, but I much prefer his skin flicks to his matinee kiddie pictures.  As far as these things go, The Wonderful Land of Oz is even duller than his other storybook sagas, if you can believe it.  The actors are terrible as they mill around mumbling their lines with the barest amount of energy possible.  The sets are depressing and look like something made for a drama production by students from a high school suffering from a series of crippling budget cuts.  As for the songs... well... let’s just say they’re no “Somewhere Over the Rainbow”. 

The Wonderful Land of Oz is quite painful for much of its seventy-one-minute running time (which feels much longer).  I do have to give credit where credit is due.  The ending is positively bonkers.  I wouldn’t dream of spoiling it for you.  Just know the eleventh-hour plot twist is just nutty enough to keep it from getting a ½ * rating.  Also, the make-up on the Wogglebug guy is the stuff nightmares are made of.  No matter how cheap the rest of the production is, I have to commend the make-up department for some truly disturbing work.

AKA:  The Land of Oz.

AIR STRIKE (2018) ½ *

Japanese forces bombard China with a series of crippling air strikes during WWII.  As the bombs fall, a group of disparate people try to make their way across the countryside.  Meanwhile, a crusty American general (Bruce Willis) is brought in to make pilots out of the ragtag group of hotshots who want to do their part to sock it to the enemy. 

To put it bluntly, Air Strike is a fucking mess.  The choppy narrative makes it feel like a ten-hour miniseries that was butchered into feature length form in postproduction.  Subplots come and go, and characters pop up randomly and disappear just as quickly. 

To make matters worse, the special effects are so piss-poor that nearly all the dogfights and bombing raids look like cut scenes from a goddamn video game.  In fact, the first half of the movie feels like you’re watching a video game.  Willis shows up, barks some orders, and then there’s a lot of shots of shoddy CGI planes flying around shooting each other before the cycle repeats once again.  

Somewhere around the second act, the effects give way to the human drama, and it’s here where the film really sinks into an abyss of abysmal ineptitude.  There’s a subplot that blatantly rips off Wages of Fear that might’ve had potential.  However, the plot jumps around so much that it never focuses on anything for more than a minute or so.  One minute, Willis is barking orders and the next he’s ordering a pilot to go on a date with a girl so there can be an obligatory romantic scene.  (The editing is so abrupt during transition scenes that it’ll give you whiplash.)  Add to that the fact that the bombing sequences occur every few minutes, just frequent enough to get on your nerves.  I never thought the sight of explosions and mass destruction could be so monotonous. 

Willis isn’t given much to do, aside from looking crabby and yell a lot.  At least he’s awake in this one.  I will say the sight of him sitting inside a WWII cockpit in front of a painfully obvious green screen is hilarious. 

We also get a random ass appearance by Adrien Brody, no stranger to Chinese co-productions after the Jackie Chan flick, Dragon Blade.  He pops up just long enough to grab a paycheck and get his face on the poster.  In fact, if you look at his face on the poster for ninety seconds, it’ll be five seconds longer than he’s in the actual movie.  Heck, I think he gets less screen time here than he did in The Thin Red Line.

If you can’t already tell, this is another one of those Grindstone Entertainment flicks.  I’ve sat through a few of these things lately, and I can safely say this is by far the worst.  This is also quite possibly Bruce’s worst too, although it’s not really his fault.  

A couple of facts before I go:  Mel Gibson is credited as a “consultant” on the film.  Who he consulted I have no idea.  Also, it was produced by the star of Chained Heat 2, Kimberley Kates.  I can only imagine what the movie would’ve been like if both of them were on the other side of the camera.  Then again, hiding their faces and burying their names deep in the credits was probably a smart move of their part because any way you slice it, Air Strike is a bomb. 

AKA:  Airstrike.  AKA:  The Bombing.  AKA:  Unbreakable Spirit.  

TRAILER TRAUMA V: 70S ACTION ATTACK! (2020) *** ½

For my money, the Trailer Trauma series is the gold standard when it comes to movie trailer compilations.  After thoroughly exhausting the horror genre in parts 3 and 4 (I consider 3 to be the best trailer compilation ever made), the franchise now sets its sights on the action movies of the ‘70s.  While this collection lacks the OCD level of detail the past two sets had, it still packs plenty of punch, giving you over three hours of badass trailers.

There is a nice amount of variety here as 70s Action Attack! covers plenty of ground.  The action subgenres include Blaxploitation (Three Tough Guys, Three the Hard Way, Hit!), biker pictures (Angels Die Hard, C.C. and Company, The Losers), westerns (High Plains Drifter, The Ballad of Cable Hogue, Junior Bonner), revenge flicks (Rolling Thunder, Mr. Majestyk, Vigilante Force), Good Ol’ Boy movies (Return to Macon County, High Ballin’, Convoy), Kung Fu (Steel Edge of Revenge, The Young Dragon, Deadly China Doll), and drive-in fare (The Abductors, Hustler Squad, The Hot Box).  Although there is no shortage of fun trailers here, many lack the distinct grimy, sleazy, grindhouse edge that made the past Trailer Trauma collections so much fun.  (It could’ve used more wild trailers like the one for the amazing looking Wildcat Women 3-D.)  Also, because of the sheer number of trailers, it becomes a bit numbing as it enters its second hour.  Because of that, I think this set would work best if you broke it up in parts and watched it over several nights as opposed to trying to tackle it in one sitting.  

These are relatively minor quibbles in the long run.  I mean I am pretty much destined to give a rave review to any trailer compilation that starts with a trailer for Cockfighter (shown here under its alternate title, Born to Kill), followed by one for another Warren Oates classic, Bring Me the Head of Alfredo Garcia.  That right there tells you it’s going to be something special.  Not only that, but it concludes with trailers for Lee Marvin (Prime Cut, Emperor of the North) and Charles Bronson flicks (The Family, Hard Times).  In between, we see a lot of William Smith (The Losers, Camper John, Fast Company) and Jan-Michael Vincent (Buster and Billie, Big Wednesday, White Line Fever), which is always a sure sign that you’ve come to the right place.

I’m something of a connoisseur when it comes to trailer compilations.  Watching these things is one of my favorite things to do on this planet.  So, trust me when I tell you this one is a damned good one.  While it may not reach the dizzying heights of the previous entries in the series, any ‘70s action fan worth their salt needs to pick up Trailer Trauma V:  70s Action Attack!  

DRIVE-IN DELIRIUM: MAXIMUM ‘80S OVERDRIVE (2017) ****

These unprecedented times are a motherfucker.  The state of the world today is a constant source of misery and depression for me.  Add to that the fact I constantly have to put a brave face forward day in and day out as my wife undergoes her chemo treatments makes things especially rough.  All this kind of wears me down after a while.  

We all have our coping methods during the dark times.  Mine used to be alcohol.  Sometimes it still is.  Some habits are hard to break.  I’ve tried to find a healthier alternative to heal my sadness and gloomy outlook.  The best thing I’ve found is to curl up at night on the couch and watch a bunch of movie trailers.  It’s kind of like a moment of Zen for me.  I can tune out my problems and the problems of the world, and for a few hours, I can find my center as I enjoy bite-sized bits of exploitation goodness.  

As far as trailer compilations go, Drive-In Delirium:  Maximum ‘80s Overdrive is one of the best.  It’s a sequel to Drive-In Delirium:  ‘60s and ‘70s Savagery, and it surpasses that admittedly stellar collection in just about every way.  It’s not as jam-packed as that compilation (it runs almost four hours compared to its predecessor’s whopping six hours), but pound-for-pound, it’s tough to beat.

The first half contains an eclectic mix of Kung Fu flicks (Shogun Assassin, Raw Force, Nine Deaths of the Ninja), Chuck Norris movies (Code of Silence, Invasion USA), vigilante actioners (The Exterminator, Ms.45, Death Wish 2), comedies (Up the Creek, Used Cars, The Ice Pirates), Charles Band productions (Metalstorm:  The Destruction of Jared-Syn, The Dungeonmaster, Zone Troopers), and Italian splatter (Zombie Holocaust, Nightmare City, and Cannibal Holocaust).  This stretch of the collection is a lot of fun, but it really kicks into gear in the second half when it unleashes a non-stop barrage of ‘80s horror goodness.  There are just too many classics to list here.  Just know there are tons of slashers (Terror Train, The Burning, Pieces), sequels (Halloween 3:  Season of the Witch, The Texas Chainsaw Massacre 2, Evil Dead 2), zombies (Return of the Living Dead, Day of the Dead, Night of the Creeps), and Stephen King adaptations (Christine, Children of the Corn, Cat’s Eye) represented here.  I especially have to tip my hat to whoever thought to follow up the trailer for The Children with Friday the 13^th since both films use the exact same score.  Not only that, but many of the trailers are narrated by guys like Don LaFontaine and Adolph Caesar, whose voices are like a salve for the soul.  

In short, Drive-In Delirium:  Maximum ‘80s Overdrive was about the best security blanket I could ask for.

LAS VEGAS LADY (1975) **

Stella Stevens and her two gal pals plan to rob a crooked Las Vegas casino owner.  (Are there any other kind?)  Naturally, the heist goes wrong, and Stella and her associates are forced to improvise in order to make a clean getaway.  

Las Vegas Lady is watchable ‘70s junk, mostly because of Stella Stevens’ neckline.  It’s a Crown International flick, so you probably already know what (not) to expect.  I have to say, it might’ve earned some extra points had Stevens’ wardrobe had a malfunction or two.  I mean, most of the suspense comes from whether or not she’ll bust out of her form-fitting costumes.  Overall, there are some bare backs, one butt shot, and a little side boob action from one of the other shapely actresses, but it’s not nearly enough to put the PG rating in jeopardy. 

Things are extremely slow going for the first half of the movie as there’s way too much filler that clogs up the works.  Again, the padding wouldn’t have been so obvious if director Noel (Best Friends) Nosseck tossed in some T & A here and there.  The only thing that keeps the early scenes tolerable is the fact that the flick offers us a nice little snapshot of what Vegas was like in the mid ‘70s.  That’s the best thing I can say about it though.  The film does pick up a little bit once the heist finally gets underway, but Ocean’s 11 this is definitely not.  Although the heist scenes are competently executed by Nosseck, the various complications are predictable.  (Speaking of predictable, you should also be able to guess the identity of the “Mr. Big” character right from the first frame.)

Stella’s performance is pretty much the main draw.  I also enjoyed seeing Stuart Whitman playing her love interest.  It’s a shame there are no sparks between them. 

With the barest of expectations, Las Vegas Lady might fit the bill as lamebrained lazy afternoon fare.  Fans of Stevens will probably roll the dice on it just to see her in a series of revealing outfits.  Ultimately, the odds aren’t in the viewer’s favor.

AKA:  Raid on Caesar’s.