URGH! A MUSIC WAR (1981) ***

Urgh!  A Music War is a decent enough snapshot of punk, new wave, and rock bands of the early ‘80s.  Since Stewart Copeland’s brothers Ian and Miles produced it, The Police are featured more than any other band.  (They’re still pretty good though.)  Other highlights include Wall of Voodoo (“Back in Flesh”), Oingo Boingo (“Ain’t This the Life?”), Echo and the Bunnymen (“The Puppet”), The Dead Kennedys (“Bleed for Me”), DEVO (“Uncontrollable Urge”), and Gary Numan singing “Down in the Park” while riding around in a remote controlled throne on a stage that looks like it could’ve come out of Tron. 

Much of the concert footage leaves something to be desired as it is presented in a rather generic fashion.  The uninspired editing likewise causes many of the performances to run together without allowing the audience time to catch their breath.  Also, since the bands were captured on different stages throughout the world, there is very little cohesion from one performance to the next.  It is interesting to see some of the lesser-known bands singing obscure songs alongside Rock and Roll Hall of Famers and their all-time classics.  For example, Athletico Spizz 80’s “Where’s Captain Kirk?” is followed by The Go-Go’s singing “We Got the Beat” and Joan Jett and the Blackhearts (“Bad Reputation”) plays right before Magazine (“Model Worker”). 

It’s not bad or anything.  It’s just that there’s way too much filler in between the good stuff.  (Apparently there’s an alternate version that leaves some of the lesser-known bands on the cutting room floor.)

For me though the footage of The Cramps singing “Tear it Up” makes up for a lot of the criticisms.  The camera is right in front of Lux Interior’s mug during all his sweaty, microphone-swallowing antics.  There was a moment there when I actually thought he was going to jump out of his skintight leather pants.  I may be a little biased because I’m a huge fan of The Cramps, but it’s totally worth owning the movie just for their performance alone. 

THE TYPEWRITER, THE RIFLE AND THE MOVIE CAMERA (1996) ****

If you had the Independent Film Channel back in the ‘90s, then you probably remember this hour-long documentary about director Sam Fuller as it pretty much played on the channel non-stop.  I watched it a bunch of times back then and even after I saw it more than a few times, if it was on, I would still let it play out as background noise.  The use of clips from Fuller’s best movies and the scenes of Quentin Tarantino, Jim Jarmusch, and Martin Scorsese talking about Fuller were still entertaining, no matter how many times I saw it.  I actually hadn’t thought about it in a long time, so when I saw it listed as a special feature on the Criterion Collection DVD of Shock Corridor, I knew I had to check it out, if only for old times’ sake. 

Directed by Adam (Carnosaur) Simon and hosted by Tim Robbins, this is a compact, concise, and to the point documentary.  That style fits Fuller’s personality and approach to filmmaking perfectly.  The title is a reference to the three careers Fuller had:  A newspaper man, a soldier, and a director.  His first two professions not only informed his filmmaking style but forever shaped him as a man. 

Fuller himself is quite a character.  You can tell he’s a natural storyteller just from the way he stands around, chomps on a cigar, and shoots the shit.  That distinct voice and spirit carries over to his work, making his films and the man who made them one of a kind.  It’s almost a shame it’s only an hour long because I’m sure there’s plenty more entertaining B-roll footage somewhere of him just spinning yarns. 

The scenes of Robbins and Tarantino sorting through Fuller’s office and geeking out at all the memorabilia from his films are worth the price of admission.  I mean, as soon as they open the door, they find the steel helmet from The Steel Helmet!  How cool is that?  Speaking of which, Scorsese even admits he cribbed from Steel Helmet when he made Raging Bull! 

Even if you are unfamiliar with Fuller, this will make an excellent primer.  If you’re a fan of Tarantino or Scorsese, it’s worth watching just for their insights.  All in all, The Typewriter, the Rifle and the Movie Camera is one of the best documentaries about movies ever made. 

SHOCK CORRIDOR (1963) ****

The word “auteur” gets thrown around a lot when it comes to writer/directors.  Very few of them have a filmography infused with such a singular voice and vision that befits the term.  For me, Sam Fuller is one of the few definitive auteurs in film history and Shock Corridor very well may be his masterpiece. 

Peter (The Big Valley) Breck stars as a journalist with dreams of winning a Pulitzer Prize who goes undercover as a mental patient in an insane asylum to solve a murder.  The list of crazies/potential witnesses include an opera singing nut (Larry Tucker), a kook who thinks he’s a Civil War general (The Dukes of Hazzard’s James Best), a black Klansman (Hari Rhodes), and an infantile physicist (Fuller regular Gene Evans).  The only problem is the longer Breck stays in the asylum, the more the line between journalist and patient begins to blur. 

Shock Corridor has a hard-hitting pulpy style that is genuine.  Many directors try for this sort of larger than life feel and fumble it, but it comes naturally for Fuller.  While his westerns of the ‘50s are often very good, it’s his noirs from the ‘60s that remain touchstones.  Of all his films, this is probably his most cinematic and haunting, as it is a harrowing account of ambition and madness. 

At times, it feels like a genre-bending version of a detective story as it shares a similar structure, but the setting and unforgettable characters (especially Rhodes) make for an unshakable experience.  Other times, it feels like a nightmare you can’t wake up from.  In either case, Fuller’s blunt force trauma directing style makes it certain you’re in for one helluva ride. 

Breck (who also starred in The Crawling Hand, Hootenanny Hoot, and this, all in the same year) is excellent in the lead as he sways from “faking it” to becoming dangerously close to actual madness.  Constance Towers, who was also in Fuller’s equally memorable The Naked Kiss, does a great striptease dance number and looks especially terrific when she appears to Breck as a vision while in the nuthouse.  Their performances, along with Fuller’s unmistakable style, make Shock Corridor an all-timer. 

THE GOOD, THE BAD AND THE BEAUTIFUL (1970) **

Bruce Harrington (Harold Herbsman) is a politician who is leading in the polls and is a shoo-in to win the election.  People attribute his popularity to the fact his wife Helen (Janis Young) is super-hot.  Trouble brews when a guy who calls himself “The Flying Man” (Osgood Scott) shows up with incriminating pictures of Helen and threatens to expose her sordid past of drinking, drugs, wild parties, and even her short trip to the booby hatch.  With her husband’s election at stake, Helen has no choice but to pay him off.  However, when he returns later and tries to force himself on her, Helen fights back and the Flying Man winds up dead.  That REALLY puts the future senator’s political career in jeopardy. 

This New York City-lensed sexploitation drama feels a little too much like a soap opera in some places to really work as smut.  The blackmail subplot is kind of dull too and gets in the way of the sex scenes.  The long flashback sequence set at an orgiastic party goes on forever.  Although this scene does provide the film with some glimpses of much needed T & A, it pretty much stops the narrative cold right in the middle of the movie.  The open-ended ending is a little frustrating as well.  This sort of coda may have worked for a plot that was more fanciful, but when it’s used for this kind of realistic drama, it falls flat. 

That’s not to say that The Good, the Bad and the Beautiful doesn’t have its moments.  In fact, it’s at its best when it’s focusing on the subplot surrounding the sexual hang-ups of the politician’s servants.  I mean what other movie gives you a scene where the wonderful character actor Allen Garfield plays a horny chauffeur who bangs a hot maid (Jennifer Welles, a veteran of many Joe Sarno movies) in the middle of the woods?  Welles also gets a hot scene where she turns into a dominatrix, grabs a whip, and flogs the naughty politician.  If Young and Herbsman had the same kind of chemistry that Garfield and Welles shared, the film would’ve been much steamier.  The music is pretty good though, as is the black and white cinematography. 

ROBOCOP: DARK JUSTICE (2001) **

After three theatrical films, a cartoon, and a TV show, Robocop was once again resurrected for television as Robocop:  Prime Directives, a series of four Made for TV movies.  This was the first entry.  Page Fletcher plays Robocop, who is down in the dumps because it’s his (tenth) birthday.  He soon finds himself at a moral crossroads when someone messes with his programming and orders him to kill his former partner John Cable (Maurice Dean Wint).  Meanwhile, Cable’s ex-wife Sara (Maria del Mara) has created a cabal of executives within OCP and plots an overthrow of the company. 

Sure, it’s a low budget TV show, but a lot of it still seems relevant today with the anti-AI sentiment and the fact that the yuppie corporate guy’s plan is more or less like Elon Musk’s DOGE bullshit.  It’s also interesting that the police have been defunded so they only carry non-lethal alternatives like mace and tasers, but Robo is still able to pack heat.  That said, if you were unhappy with the watered-down cartoonish world of Robocop 3, you’ll probably hate this.  There’s a laughable villain called “Bone Machine” that looks ridiculous and says stupid shit like, “You’re boned, baby!”  Plus, many of the attempts at satire fall flat.  (There’s a bank called “Chelsea Clinton Savings and Loan”.)  The “Media Break” moments are kind of fun though.  This time they are updated for the World Wide Web and feature pop-up ads selling things like DVDs of “Robocop’s Greats Hits” and an all-John Malkovich Channel (not a bad idea).

Fletcher (who starred in the HBO series, The Hitchhiker, a show that original Robocop director Paul Verhoeven helmed a few episodes for) isn’t all that great in the lead and his Robo voice takes some time getting used to.  The constant flashbacks of him before he became Robocop seem less like character development and more of a cost cutting measure.  (You know, so they don’t have to haul out the Robo suit.)  Speaking of the suit, it’s a definite downgrade from the theatrical movies, but I did like the way they dinged it up to make it seem lived in. 

All in all, Robocop:  Dark Justice is what it is:  An inferior TV version of an all-time classic hard-R movie.  If you can come to grips with that you might like it.  Ultimately, it’s one of those “good news, bad news” scenarios.  For every fun moment or semi-interesting element (like Robocop’s now grown son working for OCP), there’s at least one or two corny bits that throw cold water on everything.  I’ll probably return to the series and watch the rest of the movies eventually, but I can honestly tell you I’m in no particular rush to do so. 

AKA:  Robocop:  Prime Directives:  AKA:  Robocop:  Prime Directives:  Dark Justice.

SEVEN DOORS TO DEATH (1944) ***

Jimmy (Chick Chandler) gets carjacked by a sassy gal named Mary (June Clyde) in his jalopy.  After she escapes, he returns to the scene of the crime and discovers a dead body.  Jimmy does his duty as a citizen and tells the police, but when they arrive on the scene, they discover an entirely different corpse.  Implicated in the crime, Jimmy teams up with Mary to clear his name and find the real killer. 

Seven Doors to Death (which should in no way be confused with Lucio Fulci’s Seven Doors OF Death, the American title for The Beyond) is a surprisingly fun Poverty Row thriller that has slight horror trappings.  (Jimmy and Mary discover a mummy in a basement at one point.)  The title refers to a block of stores where the murder took place that are all connected to the same basement, as well as the theory that the killer could be the proprietor of any one of the seven shops in the complex.  (“Behind one of those doors is a murderer!”)

Director Elmer Clifton (a veteran of many ‘30s scare pictures like Assassin of Youth and Slaves in Bondage) keeps things moving at an acceptable pace.  While it’s not exactly a crackling thriller by any means (the jewel thief subplot was unnecessary), it’s certainly not as creaky as most of these Poverty Row thrillers.  Sure, things get wrapped up way too easily in the end, but it remains fun and enjoyable throughout.  Besides, there are plenty of suspects and/or red herrings to go around such as a knife salesman, a crime enthusiast, and a dimwitted gardener.  That’s enough to keep you guessing who the killer is until the end. 

The performances help enormously too.  Chandler and Clyde make for a fine team, and their bickering and bantering keeps you amused during what could’ve ordinarily been dull dialogue scenes.  Clifton’s background in exploitation shines through during the most memorable scene where a hot brunette performs an impromptu burlesque striptease in the living room (although it’s awfully tame by today’s standards).  

AKA:  Vanishing Corpses.

CRIMSON (1976) ** ½

Paul Naschy stars as a jewel thief who is shot in the head while evading the police.  While on the run, his criminal confederates take him to a shady doctor for medical treatment.  When he is unable to help, he suggests his mad scientist pal can save Naschy’s life.  The only way to do so is an emergency brain transplant and the only person with the same blood type just so happens to be Naschy’s mortal enemy, an unsavory character called “The Sadist”.  The operation is a success, but it does leave Naschy with one pesky side effect:  It gives him the compulsive urge to strangle women. 

Although he has top billing, Naschy spends more than half the movie unconscious and/or offscreen.  Because of that, fans of the man will probably feel shortchanged.  Adding to the disappointment is the fact that despite the film’s Sci-Fi trappings, this is much more of a crime flick than the horror shows he’s known for.  Even when Naschy is up and running around, Crimson never really makes the best use of his talents.  With his blue turtleneck and white bandaged head, he kind of resembles Dengar from The Empire Strikes Back. 

While Crimson suffers from a noticeable lack of Naschy, it still has its share of rewards.  There’s a completely random striptease involving two guys in yellow face ripping clothes off a woman against a ridiculously elaborate China themed backdrop.  We also get a humorous stretch where the criminals have a difficult time decapitating a body, as well as a great bit when the dirty crooks receive the head hidden inside of a birthday present.  We also get a gnarly scene where Naschy’s rivals put out their cigarette butts on a hot blonde, and the surprise reveal of a dead body is rather effective. 

So, it’s a toss-up.  If you want to see a crime caper with a pinch of horror and a dabble of Sci-Fi, then Crimson will be for you.  If on the other hand, you’re looking for a top notch Naschy flick, stick with his werewolf pictures instead. 

AKA:  Crimson, the Color of Terror.  AKA:  The Man with the Severed Head.  AKA:  Crimson, the Color of Blood.