BOSS LEVEL (2021) ***

Former soldier Frank Grillo wakes up to find that he is living (or more accurately, dying) the same day over and over again.  He is pursued by a gaggle of wildly different “bosses” who murder him in a number of violent ways.  He eventually learns that the only way to stop the never-ending time loop is to save his scientist ex-wife (Naomi Watts) from being killed by her sadistic boss (Mel Gibson) who wants to use the time loop machine for his own devious aims.

Directed by Joe Carnahan, Boss Level is basically the action movie version of Groundhog Day.  Or Edge of Tomorrow.  Or Happy Death Day.  Or Happy Death Day 2U.  Or Lucky.  Look, originality is not this movie’s strong suit.  Normally, I take films to task for being repetitive, but that’s sort of this one’s M.O.  As with those features, as the character repeats his day over and over again, he learns to be less selfish and begins to help others.  Unlike Groundhog Day, this one has a lot of shootouts, decapitations, and scenes of Michelle Yeoh playing a Kung Fu sword master.  Because of that, I dug it.

As far as those Emmett/Furla DTV actioners go (or in this case, DTH… which is short for Direct to Hulu), Boss Level feels the closest to being a real movie.  That’s mostly because Carnahan is the goods.  Even if the flick borrows heavily from other films, he is able to imbue it with a sense of fun, energy, and quirkiness. 

The cast is solid, which helps tremendously.  Watts’ character is mostly Ms. Exposition, but she and Grillo have enough chemistry for you to overlook some of her scientific gobbledygook-heavy dialogue scenes.  Gibson has a few choice moments (although they are mostly weighted towards the beginning) and really seems to be relishing biting into the scenery. 

Really, this is a tailormade vehicle for Grillo.  He gives one of his best performances.  He’s essentially a video game character and he certainly has the look for it.  (I mean that in the best possible way.)  However, he’s good enough to suggest the character is deeper than what’s on the surface when it suits, and has enough fun with the role to revel in the loonier aspects of what the script requires him to sometimes do. 

The premise is little more than an “elevator pitch”.  However, Carnahan keeps the momentum going at such a breakneck pace that it hardly matters.  Sure, the characters may be stuck in a time loop, but the movie most assuredly doesn’t chase its tail.   

COMING 2 AMERICA (2021) ****

The original Coming to America was a pleasant but inessential fish out of water comedy.  I’m usually wary of belated sequels (the movie pokes fun at them as well), but this one turned out far better than I ever expected.  Hiring the director of Dolemite is My Name, Craig Brewer was a smart decision.  In that film, he got the best out of Eddie Murphy, not to mention the ensemble cast.  Here, with a broader canvas, he is able to juggle a lot of subplots, thematic material, musical numbers, and still deliver something that feels fresh, energetic, and most of all, funny.

Murphy reprises his role as Prince Akeem, who is now King of the African nation of Zamunda.  He’s in desperate need of a male heir to unite his kingdom with a warring neighboring country led by the sly General Izzi (Wesley Snipes).  As luck would have it, Akeem learns he has a son in Queens, a product of a one-night stand he had while he was in America in the original movie.  Along with his trusty pal Semmi (Arsenio Hall), they return to America to find him.  Once Akeem’s son, Lavelle (Jermaine Fowler) learns of his heritage, he travels to Zamunda where, much to his father’s chagrin, he decides he’s going to do things his way. 

Despite the title, most of the action takes place in Zamunda and it’s brimming with vibrant costumes, sets, and energy, which gives the film its own identity from the original (while probably owing a debt of inspiration to Black Panther).  Many would lazily call it a flip-flop of the first film, but Coming 2 America’s theme is what makes it unique.  It’s about the importance of finding your own identity while simultaneously honoring the past and blazing your own path towards a bright future.  Just as the young prince is able to do all that, so does the movie.

The early scenes are the funniest.  There’s a great funeral sequence that features many great cameos and some awesome musical numbers.  Once Murphy and Hall (who practically look the same even if there is some CGI de-aging during the flashback scenes) go back to America, we get some great callbacks to the original.  Naturally, there’s another hilarious barbershop scene, which is the comedic highpoint.  (Never mind the fact that the old dudes in the shop haven’t aged a day in thirty-three years.)

When the action switches back to Zamunda for the second act, the story’s momentum shifts from the father to the son.  I initially thought the movie would start to peter out at this point, but Fowler’s performance was quite good, and his quest to find his own place in the world was unique and absorbing enough for me to be won over.  By the end, I was pleasantly surprised by how much I enjoyed seeing the baton being passed from father to son. 

In short, Coming 2 America is one of the best movies of the year.  It’s a heartfelt, funny, and sweet film.  I can’t wait to go back to Zamunda.  Hopefully, Murphy doesn’t make us wait another thirty-three years to do so.  

WILD HIPPIE ORGY (1967) **

Wild Hippie Orgy originally ran as a co-feature with Psychedelicsex Kicks.  It’s easy to see why as they are thematically similar (both involve hippies and orgies).  Not only that, but Psychedelicsex Kicks was short (less than an hour) and this one is even shorter (about a half-hour), so it made sense to run them as one ninety-minute attraction.  Even though this is only half as long as Psychedelicsex Kicks, it feels much longer thanks to the stagnant pacing, lackadaisical editing, and (mostly) disinterested performers.

People arrive for a party in a cramped apartment.  There is drinking, conversation, dancing, and music.  Some people are already naked when the party starts.  Others are in the midst of disrobing.  Eventually, more and more people get naked.  A dude starts playing the bongos, which leads to more dancing and jiggling.  Finally, a few people start making out and/or having sex.

Wild Hippie Orgy plays like an overlong stag loop.  There’s no plot, things just sort of happen, and you have to wait a long time before you get to see any action.  Although there is one sort of psychedelic sequence, I don’t remember them showing anyone actually getting high, so I’m not exactly sure what they were tripping out on.  Once the psychedelic sex action kicks into gear, the lovemaking scenes slowly become superimposed over each another while flashing lights go on and off.  Unfortunately, by showing the naughty bits in such a “trippy” fashion, it makes it hard to tell what the hell is going on.

The girls are slightly better looking than the ones found in Psychedelicsex Kicks, so that’s a plus.  Some of the music isn’t bad either.  However, it’s far from what I would call “Wild”.  (There have been Christian Mingle socials that were crazier than this.)  I’m not even sure if some of these folks could be considered “Hippies” now that I think about it. 

PSYCHEDELICSEX KICKS (1967) ** ½

A dirty hippie goes to Golden Gate Park (“This park has swings, and better yet—Swingers!”)  and does his “Pied Piper bit”.  By that, I mean he blows on his pan flute, mesmerizes a couple of babes, and has them follow him home.   He then gets them stoned and gives them LSD before they undress (VERY slowly) and make out.  Once the drugs REALLY kick in, they are joined by another gal who initiates a psychedelic body painting orgy.  Eventually, things start getting weird once a snake shows up looking for a good time.  (You know there’s always that one asshole who brings a snake to an orgy.) 

The hippie’s constant narration sounds like Rod Serling reading Timothy Leary, and while much of it is unnecessary, there are a few funny lines.  Halfway through, one of the women takes over the narrating duties as slowly, more and more psychedelic effects begin to be superimposed over the action.  Some of the effects are typical, like the kaleidoscopic lights, but some of the surreal imagery is surprisingly effective (like the scene where “the guru” crawls after one of his conquests in a room full of balloons). 

Psychedelicsex Kicks isn’t exactly what I would call “erotic”, (the participants don’t exactly look thrilled to be there, and they sometimes look directly into the camera), but it’s short (under an hour long), features a lot of nudity, and has plenty of sleazy atmosphere.  It also makes for a great ‘60s time capsule as it is brimming with outdated fashions, slang, and go-go dancing.  Although it is kind of slow to start, once it gets moving, there’s enough scenes of horny hippies jiggling their jugs to make it an OK way to kill fifty-one minutes.  (The body painting scene in particular, is a lot of fun.) 

Overall, Psychedelicsex Kicks probably won’t be much of a “turn-on”, but it’s entertaining enough to make sure you don’t “drop-out” before all is said and done.

AKA:  Psychedelic Sex Kicks.

COTTON CANDY (1978) **

Ron Howard directed this tame, harmless, innocuous, and forgettable TV movie shortly after making Grand Theft Auto for Roger Corman.  Howard’s co-star from American Graffiti, Charles Martin Smith, Terry the Toad himself, stars as a George, a high school senior who doesn’t make the football team.  He then sets out to join the town’s hottest rock n’ roll band, “Rapid Fire”, who reject and humiliate him.  Undeterred, George starts his own band, Cotton Candy, and almost immediately falls in love with his drummer (Leslie King, of Gas Pump Girls and Cheerleaders’ Wild Weekend fame).  Naturally, their bliss is shaken when she gets accepted into MIT, and it threatens to tear their relationship, and the band, apart.

Cotton Candy pretty much plays like an overlong After School Special.  Either that, or an unsold pilot.  There are moments that WANT to be semi-risqué (there’s a strip poker scene that is predictably cut short), but you have a feeling that Opie didn’t want to tarnish his squeaky-clean image, so it just winds up being watered-down.  (There are even silly variations on curse words like “flush you!” that just seem forced.)

Smith (who was also in The Buddy Holly Story, which came out the same year) is pretty good.  Howard’s brother, Clint (who co-wrote the screenplay with Ron) is goofy as usual as the band’s manager, Corky.  It was a family affair all around as Howard’s dad Rance also appears in a small role (as well as produced).  King has a likeable presence, and it’s a shame she didn’t make more movies because she really holds her own here.

Cotton Candy (the band) are kind of square.  Their songs are forgettable, and Howard’s staging of their performances is lackluster.  Fortunately, when Rapid Fire takes the stage, the film fitfully comes alive during their hilariously bad numbers.  The sequence where they perform the whitest version of “I Shot the Sheriff” you have ever seen, is a ripe slice of must-see shitty ‘70s Made for TV nonsense. The rest of the movie, not so much.

GROUP MARRIAGE (1973) **

Chris (Aimee Eccles) and Sander (Solomon Sturges) are a free-spirited couple who pick up Dennis (Jeff Pomerantz), a seemingly square parole officer hitchhiking.  Chris takes a shine to him and soon invites him for a romantic rendezvous.  Dennis surprises them with a bit of sexual freedom of his own as he asks his friend Jan (Victoria Vetri) to join their joint arrangement.  Before long, a handsome beach bum (Zack Taylor) and a sexy lawyer (Gator Bait’s Claudia Jennings) also join their ever-growing polyamorous relationship.  Things become increasingly complicated once Chris gets pregnant and the neighborhood, who doesn’t take kindly to their nontraditional lifestyle, causes a ruckus.

Directed by Stephanie (The Working Girls) Rothman, Group Marriage tries to be a low rent version of Bob and Carol and Ted and Alice.  However, the plot mostly feels like a series of set-ups to corny jokes complete with unfunny punchlines.  The other, racier scenes often play like filmed versions of the old comics you used to see in Playboy.  The silly sitcom scenarios and predictable plot twists would’ve been tolerable if the skin quotient was there, but there’s ultimately not enough nudity to make it worthwhile. Also, while the film has a progressive attitude towards polygamy, it’s filled with dated stereotypes, which may turn off some modern-day viewers.  

The women in the cast help propel it along, not only because they are all sexy, but because they also deliver fine performances.  It’s just a shame that Jennings, the loveliest one of the bunch, has the lamest storyline. She also unfortunately doesn’t show up till the movie’s halfway over.  

The theme song, “Darling Companion” is pretty great though.  It was written and sung by none other than The Lovin’ Spoonful’s John Sebastian, which seems like a good get for a low budget drive-in skin flick.  The song was later covered by Johnny and June Carter Cash on the Johnny Cash at San Quentin album, if you can believe it.

DESTROYER (1988) ***

When I was about ten or so, the first video store I remember frequenting closed its doors forever.  On my last visit, I was able to grab some free posters.  Many of the posters, I have held onto, including the one for Destroyer.  I never put it up on the wall though because I have never seen the movie, and I didn’t want to be rocking a poster for a film I’ve never watched.  (Despite the fact that the poster, which features a sweaty Lyle Alzado holding a jackhammer with the tagline, “3,000 volts couldn’t kill him… it just gave him a buzz!” is freaking awesome.)  I mean, I’m a man of principles, after all.  Flash forward thirty-three years later to me stumbling upon Destroyer on Tubi.  Right then and there I figured it was high-time I finally checked it out.

As it turns out, I should probably get a frame for that poster ASAP because this movie is a lot of fun.

There were a rash of prison/electric chair themed horror movies in the ‘80s.  In addition to Destroyer, we had Prison, Shocker, and The Horror Show.  This one is a little different than those films as it revolves around a film crew shooting a horror movie in a prison, so there’s a Return to Horror High kind of thing going on too. 

The film in production, Death House Dolls, is directed by none other than Anthony Perkins (!) and written by Clayton Rohner, whose girlfriend (Deborah Foreman) is the stunt double for the bitchy leading lady (Lannie Garrett).  The prison they’re filming in has a sordid history.  Months earlier, a psychotic serial killer (Alzado) was executed in the electric chair.  Before long, the wild-eyed Alzado is stalking the corridors of the prison looking to make mincemeat out of the film crew.

The colorful cast ensures Destroyer’s place among the best Electric Chair Killer movies of all time.  Perkins is a lot of fun as the exasperated director.  He’s particularly memorable when he’s butting heads with Garrett and saying things like, “Cecil B. De-fuckin’-Mille!”  Foreman and Rohner have a lot of chemistry (which is natural seeing how were also in April Fool’s Day together).  What makes their scenes work is that they feel like a genuine couple, complete with their own offbeat quirks, which prevents them from seemingly like just another pair of potential victims who are sleepwalking through another horror movie.  (I especially liked the fact that they pretty much have matching pompadour hairdos.)  Alzado makes for a fine villain as he does the crazed psycho thing fairly well.  The scene where he goes to town on a cop with the jackhammer is pretty great.  It’s a shame he passed away so early because he really shows great potential in this movie.

The cast helps keep Destroyer afloat, even when it starts to drag during the stalk n’ slash finale.  These scenes contain about a 50/50 mix of action and horror, and I have to believe that director Robert Kirk (in his only feature length directing effort) would’ve been wise to keep the car crashes and stunt work to a minimum as the horror-centric sequences are a lot more successful and atmospheric.  Some of the editing is a bit awkward in this stretch of the picture too.  With some tighter pacing in the third act, it would’ve made for a crackling good eighty-four-minute movie, but it nevertheless remains an entertaining one at ninety-four. 

Besides, any movie that gives you the joy of seeing Norman Bates directing a shower scene is worthy in my book.

AKA:  Shadow of Death.  AKA:  The Edison Effect.