BLACK HEAT (1976) **

 

Kicks (Timothy Brown) and Tony (Geoffrey Land) are cops out to bust a hotel full of hookers.  The girls also help the sleazy kingpin Ziggy (Russ Tamblyn) pull off a series of heists.  After Ziggy kills Tony, he tricks his grieving girlfriend (Jana Bellan) into setting up his next score.  It’s then up to Kicks to get revenge and bring Ziggy down. 

You can say a lot of things about the quality of the movies Al Adamson and Sam Sherman made together, but you have to admire the ingenuity they had when it came to selling them.  Black Heat is an example where the genesis of the film is more interesting than the finished product.  They were looking to make a Blaxploitation actioner and a sexploitation potboiler, and figured why not just make two for the price of one?  They would create two different marketing campaigns under two different titles and film two different opening scenes (one that played up the gunrunning angle, the other featuring a bunch of scenes of the girls in the hotel getting naked, fucking, and showering) but keep the rest of the pictures the same.  They’d then play them in separate markets and the filmgoing public would be none the wiser. 

The film itself is serviceable at best.  Like most of Adamson’s work, the plot is a bit slipshod, with a few too many extraneous subplots that get in the way of the fun.  For example, the final junkyard confrontation between Brown and Tamblyn is well done, but unfortunately, the movie keeps going for another ten unnecessary minutes.  There is some trademark Adamson sleaze here (gang rape, forced lesbianism, a guy getting his legs ran over by a car, etc.), although not really enough to make it recommended.  Still, it’s not a bad Blaxploitation flick, all things considered.  (The score by Paul Lewinson is appropriately funky.)

The performances are what keep it afloat.  Brown is likeable as the suave badass cop Kicks.  He has an easy chemistry in the streets with Land and between the sheets with Tanya Boyd, who plays his reporter girlfriend.  Naturally, Adamson’s wife, Regina Carrol also turns up (as a nightclub singer), although she isn’t given a whole lot to do this time out.

AKA:  U.S. Vice.  AKA:  Syndicate Vice.  AKA:  The Murder Gang.  AKA:  Girls’ Hotel.  AKA:  Town Rats. 

HELLISH SPIDERS (1968) ****

 

Giant spiders from outer space travel across the galaxy to invade Earth.  They take the form of Earthmen (you can tell they’re spider men because they all have a small spider tattoo behind their ear) and begin harvesting human brains, the vital foodstuff for their queen, Arachnea.  Naturally, the only one who can stop them from conquering the world is everyone’s second favorite luchador, Blue Demon!  The aliens know this too, so they create their own invincible wrestler to go one on one with the champ in the ring.

I love it when low budget movies steal their special effects footage from other films.  Usually though, they try to pinch footage from higher budgeted and/or slightly better made features.  Director Federico Curiel probably had his pick of footage to blatantly steal from and put into this flick.  What makes Hellish Spiders so great is that he went and stole the UFO footage from Plan 9 from Outer Space, the one picture that’s notorious for its famously awful pie tin/hubcap spaceships and flying saucers. 

I fucking love it. 

Not content to steal only from Plan 9, Curiel lifts whole scenes from Teenagers from Outer Space too.  The famous dog disintegration scene from that movie is shown in its full glory.  It’s fitting though, because like the teenagers in that flick, the aliens in this movie leave a trail of fleshless skeletons in their wake, so it all kind of synchs up.  Not only does Hellish Spiders borrow footage from Plan 9 and Teenagers, it recycles some familiar musical cues from Creature from the Black Lagoon and This Island Earth.  Also, the spiders themselves look a lot like the ones found in Horrors of Spider Island, which only adds to the fun.

While the invasion is going on, Blue Demon spends most of his time wrestling.  There are at least five wrestling scenes, or seven if you count the two sparring sessions in the ring.  The brawl with the alien champion is particularly fast-paced and entertaining.  The shit really hits the fan when Demon smashes his opponent’s arm to reveal his spider appendage, horrifying the spectators in the process.  Blue Demon also does battle outside the squared circle with the spider soldiers, who wear pretty sweet looking Dracula capes.

Once again, Curiel shows why he is one of the premier directors in Lucha Libre cinema.  Sure, the production may be cheap and shoddy, but the sequences set in the aliens’ underground lair are loaded with atmosphere.  The shots of the heroine clinging to the giant web as a slimy spider inches ever closer to her are particularly well done. 

In short, this is one of Blue Demon’s best solo efforts.  There’s tons of wrestling, cool monsters, and very little plot to get in the way.  Ed Wood devotees will also love seeing the footage from Plan 9 being repurposed here.  What more can a B movie fan ask for?

BLAZING STEWARDESSES (1975) * ½

 

I already reviewed this a decade ago, but it never hurts to watch the movies on this Al Adamson boxset with a fresh set of eyes.  Adamson made a career out of slapping together two genres in order to reach a wider market.  Blood of Ghastly Horror was a mix of crime picture and horror movie.  The Dynamite Brothers was a hybrid of Blaxploitation and Kung Fu flick.  This is a blend of western and sexploitation.  As far as nudie westerns go, it’s got nothing on Herschell Gordon Lewis’ Linda and Abilene, THE definitive work of the genre, as far as I’m concerned. 

Connie Hoffman returns as sexy stewardess Debbie.  She returns home from a flight and finds her boyfriend in the sack with another woman.  She and her stewardess gal pals (Regina Carrol and Marilyn Joi) then take off for a vacation at a casino ranch owned by her old pal Brewster (Robert Livingston).  When a gang of modern-day rustlers try to put a stop to Brewster’s gambling joint, it’s up to a mysterious cowboy in a white hat (Geoffrey Land) to save the day.

The idea of cowgirl stewardesses could’ve worked, but there’s just too much filler.  It’s one thing to pad the movie with travelogue scenes of the stewardesses going to the zoo, shopping, watching parades, and attending rodeos.  I guess it makes sense as the film was still kind of aping the Stewardess Report template.  However, the straight western scenes are terrible, and all the comedy shit just plain doesn’t work at all.

The good news is, the sex scenes are decent.  Foot fetish fans will enjoy the toe-sucking rendition “This Little Piggy”, and the funny bit when a couple does it while standing on their heads.  Ultimately, there just aren’t enough of them to make it worthwhile. 

The cast aren’t much to write home about.  Yvonne DeCarlo (who sings!) plays the madam of a cathouse, but her role really could’ve been played by anyone.  While Hoffman was a lot of fun in the original, this time around, she seems like she really doesn’t want to be there.  Also, Joi, who was such a memorable presence in the first movie is pretty much wasted here.  Carrol on the other hand, gets way too much to do.  She completely overdoes the whole bimbo thing and her schtick becomes instantly annoying. 

Speaking of annoying schtick, seeing the Ritz Brothers (whose roles were originally intended for The Three Stooges!) still doing their antiquated pratfalls and facial contortions way past their prime is downright embarrassing.  Their impromptu dance number alone is enough to make you want to blow your brains out.  Originally a trio, only two of the Ritz Brothers, Harry and Jimmy, perform as Al passed away several years prior.  He was the lucky one.

Despite the fact his previous film, Jessi’s Girls was a decent enough western, Blazing Stewardesses shows that Adamson’s strength was more in the drive-in exploitation genre and not in westerns.  He isn’t particularly adept at comedy either (the stuff with the Ritz Brothers is painful), so whenever there aren’t any smokin’ stewardesses disrobing for the camera (which is about the majority of the second and third acts), it can be awfully rough going.  

Here’s my original review that ran on my old site on November 22^nd, 2010:

BLAZING STEWARDESSES  (1975)  * ½

Blazing Stewardesses is director Al Adamson’s pretty awful sequel to the pretty good The Naughty Stewardesses.  In this one, our swinging stewardesses head west to help an elderly cowhand revitalize his dude ranch.  Of all the places Adamson could’ve sent his sexy stews, he put them in a dumb western.  Why couldn’t we have gotten The Stewardesses in a Haunted House or The Stewardesses in Space or something along those lines?  But no, we’re stuck with this crap.

I will say one thing; the opening credits are kinda cool and look like something out of a B western from the 30’s.  After that though, the movie kinda falls apart.  To make matters worse, the sex scenes are few and far between.  There is however, one rather hot part where a chick plays an oral-centric version of “This Little Piggy”.  That’s about the only marginally sexy moment the movie has going for it.

Mostly though; it’s too much filler and not enough fucking.  This might be the first movie that’s all padding.  There are long parade sequences, rodeo scenes, and way too much godawful comic relief by the supremely annoying Ritz Brothers to make you think this could’ve ever been a good flick.  Speaking of annoying, Regina Carrol will grate on your nerves and totally overplays the whole bimbo thing.  Because she’s the director’s wife though, she gets a shit ton of screen time.

Bottom Line:  Ask your stewardess for extra pillows because you’ll be sleeping through this one.

AKA:  Cathouse Callgirls.  AKA:  Cathouse Cowgirls.  AKA:  Texas Layover.  AKA:  The Great Truck Robbery.  AKA:  The Jet Set.  AKA:  Up Like a Shot.

JESSI’S GIRLS (1975) ** ½

 

Jessi’s Girls is one of the more obscure titles on the Al Adamson boxset from Severin.  (Well, I had never heard of it.)  I had low expectations seeing as it was another western and Adamson’s last western, Five Bloody Graves was easily the worst film in the collection.  Turns out, it’s not too bad.  It’s competently put together, features some solid performances, and features just enough sleaze to appease to the drive-in crowd while simultaneously catering to western fans. 

Sondra (Policewomen) Currie stars as Jessi, a preacher’s wife who is traveling out west in a covered wagon with her husband Seth (Rigg Kennedy).  Notorious outlaw Frank Brock (Ben Frank from Death Wish 2) and his gang ambush the couple, tie up Seth, and take turns violently raping Jessi.  The hoodlums then shoot both husband and wife and leave them for dead.  Jessi miraculously survives, and with the help of a friendly old prospector (Rod Cameron) becomes a crack shot.  She sets out to get revenge on the men who raped her and ends up crossing paths with a trio of criminal women who aid her in her quest for vengeance. 

The opening is strong.  Adamson wastes no time getting to the sleaze with an extended gang rape scene.  From there, it becomes sort of a western version of I Spit on Your Grave (I Spit on Your Tombstone?), but with the addition of three fugitive women.  

Currie gives a fine performance as the vengeance-seeking cowgirl.  She gets naked a lot too, which helps bulk up the skin factor.  The other ladies in the cast are appealing too, even if they don’t get a whole lot to do.  (Save for Regina Carrol and Ellen Stern’s catfight).  Their characters never really get a chance to bond in a meaningful way either as they mostly feel like they’re just along for the ride.

The traditional western sequences look the part, even if they aren’t really all that involving.  The big problem is that revenge scenes lack the punch that the early attack scenes had.  Considering the Hell they put her through, you’d expect Currie to make her tormentors suffer, at least a little bit.  Instead, she merely hunts them down, flashes back to the men’s grimy faces, and then shoots them.  The lurid scenes of Currie and Carrol (who used a body double because after all, she’s the director’s wife) nursing wounded men back to health by banging them feel out of step with the serious tone, but again, it does up the skin factor. 

Also, you have to wonder if Rick Springfield saw this at the drive-in before writing “Jesse’s Girl”. 

AKA:  Jessi’s Gang.  AKA:  Jessi’s Gun.  AKA:  Wanted Women.

I SPIT ON YOUR CORPSE! (1974) ***

 

Note:  Although the title on the Blu-Ray is Girls for Rent, the version I originally saw (on Beta, no less) back in the early ‘00s was called I Spit on Your Corpse!  Because that’s the version I’m most familiar with, that’s the title I will refer to it as.  Of course, the retitling was meant to cash in on the infamous cult classic, I Spit on Your Grave, but apart from a subplot about a slow-witted redneck rapist, it’s really nothing like that flick.  It is however a solid slice of drive-in moviemaking, and certainly one of director Al Adamson’s all-time best efforts. 

Moreno (frequent Adamson star Kent Taylor) runs an organization that is kind of like an evil version of Charlie’s Angels.  One girl handles counterfeiting, another runs a call girl operation, one deals in stolen goods, etc.  He hires Sandra (Georgina Spelvin) as the team’s hit woman, and immediately gives her an assignment to take out a politician.  She doesn’t want to get her hands dirty, so she gets a call girl named Donna (Susan McIver) to unwillingly poison the perverted politico.  Once she realizes she’s killed a man, Donna hightails it out of there and heads for Mexico.  Moreno, nervous Donna will talk to the authorities, sends Sandra out in hot pursuit to silence her for good. 

While it never hits the zany heights of Adamson’s Dracula vs. Frankenstein, I Spit on Your Corpse! is his most consistently entertaining film.  It’s briskly paced, well-made, and looks great, thanks to Gary Graver’s excellent cinematography.  The score, which alternates from sounding like a Spaghetti Western to resembling a James Bond rip-off, is also very good.

Hot off the heels of her notoriety from The Devil in Miss Jones, Spelvin delivers a knockout performance.  Sporting a pixie hairdo and spouting her dialogue through a mischievous sneer, the tough-talking Spelvin kinda looks like a cross between Shirley MacLaine and Tura Satana.  The opening sequence, where Spelvin escapes from a prison roadwork crew, perfectly sets the tone for the movie.  Two female prisoners begin wrestling in the dirt to distract the guards before Spelvin conks them on the head and takes off into the desert.  My favorite moment though is when Spelvin seduces the slow-witted would-be rapist and blows his brains out just before he’s about to get his rocks off. 

We also get a great bit where Spelvin and her partner in crime, Rosalind Miles are hitchhiking, and roll a trio of drunks.  Spelvin lures them in by whipping out her tit (most people stick out their thumb while hitchhiking, but not Georgina), and it doesn’t take long for her and Miles to kick the shit out of some Good Ol’ Boys.  This sequence also features a brief smattering of topless kickboxing, and as far as I can tell, it is only the second instance of topless kickboxing in film history as it premiered just a few months after Cirio H. Santiago’s seminal T.N.T. Jackson. 

Although the film clips along at a steady pace for the first hour or so, it kind of fizzles out just before the finale.  The end chase through the desert is needlessly drawn out, almost as if Adamson was contractually obligated to reach a mandated ninety-minute runtime.  That blemish aside, there is enough skin and action throughout the movie to make it highly recommended for connoisseurs of sleazy drive-in fare. 

AKA:  Girls for Rent.  AKA:  Fatal Pursuit.  AKA:  A Life in the Balance.

THE REVENGE OF HURRICANE RAMIREZ (1969) ** ½

The Revenge of Hurricane Ramirez was an attempt by the series to copy the success of the El Santo movies.  Sure, you still get the family drama (and comedy) you’d expect from a Hurricane Ramirez picture.  Only this time, you have the added pleasure of a mad scientist villain. 

Right from the get-go, the villain works tirelessly in his mad scientist lab performing illicit experiments on animals.  Soon, he perfects a formula to turn his two simpleton henchmen into luchadores!  After Hurricane, who is once again played outside the ring by David Silva, hands them a crushing defeat, the villain uses the formula on himself and goes after Hurricane in the ring.

The wrestling action is great this time around.  The tag team match with Hurricane and his father (Tonino Jackson) against the two henchman is a lot of fun.  One henchman uses chloroform to subdue Jackson while the other has the power to engulf his hand in flames like The Human Torch!  The best scene though is when the mad scientist is unmasked in the ring as a Mr. Hyde-type monster.  These gimmicks only enhance what were already stellar fight sequences to begin with and help set them apart from the other more traditional wrestling scenes in the previous installments. 

The music isn’t bad either.  I liked the impromptu concert at a record store, and the number that occurs at a TV station has a lot of energy.  The camerawork during the pool party song is also very good.

Like most Hurricane Ramirez films, the problem is the ho-hum family drama.  The scenes that take place in the family’s diner are easily the weakest parts of the movie.  The multiple romantic subplots (including Tonino contending with an overzealous female fan) slow down the pacing considerably and get in the way of the Lucha Libre hijinks.  The comedy fails to elicit any laughs too.  (There is a pie fight.)

Like Son of Hurricane Ramirez, this was projected in a half-assed version of post-conversion 3-D.  Overall, the effects were much better than the ones found in Son.  Early on, there’s a shot of a lizard’s head emerging out of the screen that works quite nice.  There’s also a musical performance in which a couple of guitar necks poke out at the viewer a bit, as does the singer’s beehive hairdo.  That’s about it in terms of 3-D effects though.  For the most part, the flatly projected scenes look a bit blurry.  I’d say if you have a choice over seeing it this way or the 2-D, I’d go with the 2-D.

AKA:  The Vengeance of Hurricane Ramirez.   

THE EVIL ONES (1968) *** ½

 

Remember a few days ago when I watched Wrestling Women vs. the Killer Robot and I fell head over heels for Regina Torne, who played the main badass wrestling lady?  Well, lo and behold, here she is again!  This time, she’s the saucy villainess in the second Mil Mascaras movie (which, according to IMDb, was actually released first).  She plays Kaneda, the leader of a female biker gang.  In the opening scene, she and her cohorts ride to her underground lair where she dances wildly while a swinging rock n’ roll band belts out a great number.  She then makes it a point to bring down Mil Mascaras, the wrestler who wears a million masks, once and for all. 

This leads up to a scene where Torne, dressed head to toe in black leather is sitting on a red velvet throne in her dungeon.  The camera slowly pulls back to reveal a couple who are strung up on adjacent columns.  When they refuse to tell her what she wants to know, she whips the shit out of them with a riding crop. 

It’s as if director Federico Curiel knew exactly what my innermost fantasy was and filmed it in precise detail. 

We also get a scene where Torne and her minions don masquerade masks, drug Mil, pin him down, and try to remove his mask against his will.  Another choice moment finds Torne dressing up like a Vegas showgirl and participating in an Aztec ceremony where she puts a hex on Mil by using a voodoo doll made of clay.  (It looks like a Lucha Libre version of Mr. Bill.)

As you can see, this one is a little kinkier than your average Mexican wresting flick.

The wrestling scenes are plentiful and feature a lot of action.  (There’s one in which Mil bloodies up his opponent.)  Curiel gives these sequences a distinct documentarian flair.  Many times, the camera is up close and personal with the grapplers, which allows the viewer to feel every armbar and stranglehold.  (I also enjoyed the bit where Torne’s sidekick sneaks into the ring and gives Mil a poisoned kiss with arsenic lipstick.) 

The music is positively buzzing too.  My main gripe is the subplot where Torne takes to breaking two criminals (one of whom has a Captain Hook prosthetic) out of prison to help her take down Mil Mascaras.  She was doing just fine on her own.  She didn’t need these two mugs mucking things up. 

I can’t say the film is as much overall fun as Wrestling Women vs. the Killer Robot.  However, it is downright riveting whenever Regina Torne is front and center acting salacious, sadistic, and saucy.  In my humble estimation, her performance remains the definitive portrayal of a Hell’s Angel dominatrix who lives in an underground lair and moonlights as an Aztec priestess and voodoo practitioner.  Torne’s vivacious energy alone makes The Evil Ones a treat from start to finish.

AKA:  Infernal Angels.  AKA:  The Scoundrels.