Charlie Brown, He’s No Clown: Snoopy, Come Home & Race for Your Life, Charlie Brown

CHARLIE BROWN, HE’S NO CLOWN: SNOOPY, COME HOME & RACE FOR YOUR LIFE, CHARLIE BROWN

Charlie Brown and the “Peanuts” gang first appeared as “Li’l Folks” in 1947, debuted as “Peanuts” Oct. 2, 1950, and launched into Sunday papers on Jan. 6, 1952.

Multiple generations came to love Charles M. Schulz’s creation through TV specials, movies, merchandise, and newspapers.

I learned to read at no later than the age of 4 by perusing copies of my grandparents’ Pittsburg Morning Sun and I remember “Peanuts” being at or near the top of the comics page along with “Garfield.” Then, it was (in no particular order) “Blondie,” “Alley Oop,” “Beetle Bailey,” “Doonesbury,” “Family Circus,” and “Calvin and Hobbes.” Sure, I missed a strip or two in this nostalgic reverie.

I later wrote for the Morning Sun (considerably downsized from 2009 through 2014 with sadly more considerable downsizing to come) and I scrapbooked a few strips that particularly tickled my funny bone. You might not believe how much feedback we received about our comics page, but I have found that obituaries, comics, and sports form the backbone of a small town paper. I remember editors grumbling about how readers were still upset years later about what happened with the Sunday comics not being in color and not having their own little section … and I said that I am one of those readers mad about that, as well as the Sun dropping a Monday paper.

Anyway, we have to ask one of the five W’s: What makes “Peanuts” so unique in the first place and even still today?

First and foremost, indelible characters who resonate with readers and viewers. Just as a little exercise, let’s rattle some of them off and I bet that we don’t even need to cheat and consult Google or Wikipedia. Let’s see, we have Schulz’s alter ego Charlie Brown, of course, Linus and his security blanket, Schroeder and his toy piano, Lucy Van Pelt, Peppermint Patty, Marcy, little sister Sally Brown, Snoopy, Woodstock, and Pig-Pen (the Walking Dust Bowl). Over the years, I myself have called a child or two “Pig-Pen.”

Recently, one quarantine afternoon I decided to watch Charlie Brown cinematic adventures SNOOPY, COME HOME (1972) and RACE FOR YOUR LIFE, CHARLIE BROWN (1977) back-to-back.

SNOOPY, COME HOME took me by surprise with its emotional punch and I’d rate it even higher were it not for the presence of so many songs written by Richard M. and Robert B. Sherman that feel like padding to inflate SNOOPY, COME HOME to a running time of 80 minutes.

Snoopy receives a letter from his previous owner Lila, who’s sick in the hospital, and Snoopy and Woodstock set out upon a grand adventure to reach her. Charlie Brown and his friends face the possibility that Snoopy will return to his first owner and that whole plot development provides the emotional sucker punch right to the guts. I’ll admit to getting a little misty-eyed when the gang throws a farewell party for Snoopy.

Meanwhile, throughout his adventure, Snoopy encounters “No Dogs Allowed.” We are talking libraries, beaches, buses, seemingly everywhere our favorite little beagle turns. That’s no way to treat a star the caliber of Snoopy. These people must be somehow unaware of “Peanuts” and they must have never heard the songs “Snoopy vs. The Red Baron,” “The Return of the Red Baron,” and “Snoopy’s Christmas.” What kind of people are these?

After being driven away from the library, Snoopy picks fights against Van Pelt siblings Linus and Lucy, and we are suddenly in Laurel and Hardy territory with big laughs from violent slapstick (though not as violent as say the Three Stooges and still within the ‘G’ rating). Fans have taken Snoopy vs. Lucy and scored MORTAL KOMBAT and ROCKY to it.

Also, during his adventure, Snoopy encounters his worst nightmare, a little girl named Clara who has the unmitigated audacity to call him “Rex.” Snoopy and Woodstock barely make it out alive.

In the end, “No Dogs Allowed” benefits Charlie Brown, Snoopy, etc.

RACE FOR YOUR LIFE, CHARLIE BROWN proved to be a mere meager diversion after SNOOPY, COME HOME.

That’s right, RACE FOR YOUR LIFE is nothing more than a pleasant way to spend 77 minutes with characters that we like.

It does not have the dynamic emotional range of SNOOPY, COME HOME and the river rafting race does not rank with the use of baseball and football in CHARLIE BROWN’S ALL-STARS and numerous gags in strips and TV specials, respectively.

Upon further reflection, the special appeal of the Charlie Brown TV specials and SNOOPY, COME HOME is that adults have the ability to take away more from them than children, without ever feeling that we are being lectured or hearing a sermon. That’s ironic, given the relative absence of adults in “Peanuts.”

SNOOPY, COME HOME ***; RACE FOR YOUR LIFE, CHARLIE BROWN **1/2

Let’s Dance! Let’s Sing! Let’s Nostalgia!: That’s Entertainment I, II, III

LET’S DANCE! LET’S SING! LET’S NOSTALGIA!: THAT’S ENTERTAINMENT I, II, III

I dutifully watched THAT’S ENTERTAINMENT, the 2-hour, 15-minute compilation of clips from MGM highlighting their hallowed “Golden Age of Musicals.” MGM, founded on April 17, 1924 by Louis B. Mayer and Marcus Loew, commemorated its 50th anniversary and then released THAT’S ENTERTAINMENT two months later commemorating it even more.

I have two immediate spoilsport thoughts, the first which originally occurred to me on June 22, 2004, watching the American Film Institute unveil the super bland “100 Years, 100 Songs.”

THAT’S ENTERTAINMENT brought it all back with a vengeance.

That night in 2004, I said aloud, “Are they going to put every single fucking song ever sung by Judy Garland on the list?” Ditto for Gene Kelly, Barbra Streisand, Julie Andrews, et cetera, who dominated the AFI list with their 20 or 25 songs seeming more like 80 or 100; Kelly and Garland, who passed away in 1969 at the age of 47, dominate THAT’S ENTERTAINMENT.

We get a double dose of heavy duty Judy in THAT’S ENTERTAINMENT, first through her Mickey (Rooney) and Judy “Hey gang, let’s put on a show” Era montage and then a tribute presented by her daughter Liza Minnelli, not long after CABARET. Garland also sings “You Made Me Love You” over a montage of Clark Gable that allows GONE WITH THE WIND (MGM’s most famous production) to be shoehorned into the song-and-dance ballyhoo.

Second spoilsport thought: Aside from THE WIZARD OF OZ and SINGIN’ IN THE RAIN, most of my favorite musicals are not from MGM. For example, Fred Astaire, who’s featured in THAT’S ENTERTAINMENT, did most of his best work at RKO — including TOP HAT and SWING TIME — in the 1930s paired with Ginger Rogers. Never mind alternative musicals like THE 5,000 FINGERS OF DR. T (Columbia and Stanley Kramer Productions) and ONE FROGGY EVENING and WHAT’S OPERA, DOC?, both famous Warner Bros. animated shorts.

What do I like about THAT’S ENTERTAINMENT?

Well, it’s always great seeing the usual suspects from THE WIZARD OF OZ and SINGIN’ IN THE RAIN no matter how many times I have seen them, especially Donald O’Connor’s showstopper “Make ‘Em Laugh.” Clark Gable singing “Puttin’ on the Ritz” from IDIOT’S DELIGHT. Jimmy Stewart’s jab at Robert “He tries his best” Montgomery. The Esther Williams montage. Somebody once said about Williams, “Dry, she ain’t much. Wet, she’s a star.” Madeline Kahn impersonating Marlene Dietrich in BLAZING SADDLES said, “It’s twue, it’s twue.”

We get more or less the same from PART 2, only we get token appearances from MGM employees Groucho Marx, Laurel and Hardy, Buster Keaton, and W.C. Fields and, of course, musical numbers that did not appear in PART I.

It would have been nice to see a musical number from the Marx Brothers or Laurel and Hardy or Fields, despite the fact they all did their best work somewhere else. I mean, would it have killed PART II director Gene Kelly to have aired Groucho’s “Lydia the Tattooed Lady” from AT THE CIRCUS … for example … instead of, I don’t know, one more variation on the song “That’s Entertainment” offered up by contemporaneous Astaire, contemporaneous Kelly together again and for the last time.

After watching PART II, I began hating Arthur Schwartz’s chestnut “That’s Entertainment” unlike ever before, although honestly I hardly ever gave it much thought until it was the (bludgeoning) recurring theme in a darn movie. They must have trotted it out 50 freaking times.

Eventually, to counterbalance the effects of cornball showbiz schmaltz, though, I started humming “That’s Entertainment” from the Jam. Let’s get all misty-eyed nostalgic over a song that starts “A police car and a screaming siren / A pneumatic drill and ripped up concrete / A baby wailing and stray dog howling / The screech of brakes and lamp light blinking.” I particularly love the second verse, “A smash of glass and the rumble of boots / An electric train and a ripped up phone booth / Paint splattered walls and the cry of a tomcat / Lights going out and a kick in the balls.”

I should just stop bitching and moaning and groaning about PART I and PART II of THAT’S ENTERTAINMENT, perhaps because life is short and also perhaps because I realize that I am not the target audience for these nostalgic entertainments. First and foremost, I was born in 1978 and my generation did not grow up on “classic” American musicals. In fact, a lot of us came to hate musicals in our teenage years, especially of the vintage celebrated endlessly by the THAT’S ENTERTAINMENT series. I have come to appreciate some of them corny old classics somewhat more in middle age, but I still prefer musical numbers from Monty Python, Mel Brooks, and “South Park” and I still grumble like nobody’s business at 21st Century schmaltz like FROZEN, MOANA, and THE GREATEST SHOWMAN, entertainment packages that give me fleas. I don’t even have to watch them to get fleas, because it seems like 90 percent of the people around me have memorized every single darn word of every single darn song and they don’t mind singing ‘em every single darn time they feel like singing in their darn glorious off-key melodramatic voice.

Recently, I conducted some independent research by watching MILLION DOLLAR MERMAID (a.k.a. THE ONE PIECE BATHING SUIT in the U.K.) from 1952 and starring Esther Williams, Victor Mature, and Walter Pidgeon. It was directed by Mervyn LeRoy, produced by Arthur Hornblow Jr., and replayed in at least one THAT’S ENTERTAINMENT. I watched it for Williams and the numbers choreographed by the legendary Busby Berkeley (who might be more fondly remembered today for being parodied in early 80s comedies CADDYSHACK and HISTORY OF THE WORLD). I enjoyed it and I realize that I probably would have enjoyed it for the same reasons at a younger age had I given it even half a chance. Now, that’s progress!

MGM returned to the vaults for a third time for THAT’S ENTERTAINMENT! III in 1994, only 18 years after PART II and 20 after the very first greatest hits-golden cinematic oldies compilation.

Anyway, who’d have ever thought that PART III tops both PART I and PART II and does it by including outtakes and unfinished numbers more than greatest hits and golden oldies.

We have Lena Horne’s “Ain’t It the Truth,” a sultry little number cut from CABIN IN THE SKY because a sexy black woman in a bathtub in 1943 would have spurred on a third American Revolution, yes, even in the middle of World War II.

We have two lip-sync takes on “Two-Faced Woman,” presented side-by-side, outtake Cyd Charisse from THE BAND WAGON and black face Joan Crawford from TORCH SONG (both dubbed by India Adams). Crawford’s scene made me think of Pauline Kael’s review of TROG, “Joan Crawford plays Stella Dallas with an ape instead of a baby girl. Some actors will do anything to be in movies: she probably would have played the ape.”

We have another Esther Williams montage and I must say that I am in favor of Esther Williams montages, especially ones that work in Tom and Jerry. Eat your hearts out, Frank and Gene, your movie (ANCHORS AWEIGH) only had Jerry dancing with Gene! In all honesty, the Esther Williams montages in PART I and PART III pushed me to seek out MILLION DOLLAR MERMAID and I have a feeling that I will be consuming Esther, Tom, and Jerry in DANGEROUS WHEN WET soon.

I also prefer PART III because it has much less of the elitist, self-congratulatory, self-important tone that marred the first two installments, as much as I enjoyed seeing all the “old” entertainers that have not been matched (let alone surpassed) since their heyday. PART III hints at the MGM that treated the cast of FREAKS like “freaks” and it at least delves beyond the surface glitz and glamour to the showbiz ugliness beneath.

That’s entertainment.

THAT’S ENTERTAINMENT PART I ***; PART II ***; PART III ****

Boris, Boris, Boris: The Man They Could Not Hang, The Man with Nine Lives, The Boogie Man Will Get You

BORIS, BORIS, BORIS: THE MAN THEY COULD NOT HANG, THE MAN WITH NINE LIVES, THE BOOGIE MAN WILL GET YOU

I am a big fan of the horror movies of the 1930s and 1940s and I am a big Boris Karloff (1887-1969) fan.

Older horror movies often stand out for two main reasons: atmosphere and wit. Just think DR. JEKYLL AND MR. HYDE and THE BRIDE OF FRANKENSTEIN.

Karloff’s film career began in the silent era and he was already 80 movies deep into his career when he portrayed Frankenstein’s Monster in James Whale’s 1931 FRANKENSTEIN. Karloff’s career exploded and he (along with such figures as Bela Lugosi, Peter Lorre, Basil Rathbone, Lionel Atwill, and Lon Chaney Jr.) became synonymous with a certain vintage of horror thrillers.

Watching his early Universal films like FRANKENSTEIN and THE OLD DARK HOUSE and then his work for Columbia like THE MAN THEY COULD NOT HANG, THE MAN WITH NINE LIVES, and THE BOOGIE MAN WILL GET YOU, it is fascinating to observe Karloff’s evolution from menacing mutes to mad scientists with mad elocution. In fact, during THE BOOGIE MAN WILL GET YOU, I wanted Karloff’s Professor Nathaniel Billings to just the heck shut up for a darn minute. He’s a blabbermouth, and it’s amazing to even think of Karloff playing that way after FRANKENSTEIN and THE OLD DARK HOUSE made the actor famous for playing silent but deadly.

THE MAN THEY COULD NOT HANG contains one of Karloff’s best performances. He plays Dr. Henryk Savaard, a genius who can bring the dead back to life, a feat that might come in handy for a film titled THE MAN THEY COULD NOT HANG. You guessed it, that man would be Dr. Savaard. Anyway, a medical student volunteers for Dr. Savaard and before he can be returned to life, them darn proper authorities interrupt Dr. Savaard. Call it “cadaver reanimatus interruptus.” They bring Dr. Savaard up for murder, convict him, and sentence him to death by hanging. They do in fact hang the good doctor, but his incredibly trustworthy assistant claims the body and brings the doctor back to life to enact his revenge against the judge and the jury responsible for convicting him and sentencing him to his death.

THE MAN THEY COULD NOT HANG basically splits into three movies: mad scientist, courtroom drama, and revenge thriller. It all works extremely well predominantly because of Karloff, whose performance dominates the movie. His courtroom defense scene is a thing of absolute beauty and it just might be his best single scene.

By the way, I absolutely love it when horror movies are not afraid to venture into other genres and become more than a horror movie while simultaneously maintaining the bulk of their body within the genre.

THE MAN WITH NINE LIVES tells a similar tale and Karloff plays a similar character to his role in THE MAN THEY COULD NOT HANG. Both pictures also have the same director (Nick Grinde) and the same writer (Karl Brown), as well as the same cinematographer (Benjamin Kline).

NINE LIVES picks up once we find Karloff’s Dr. Leon Kravaal frozen in an ice chamber deep in a secret passage within his home. Also found are Dr. Kravaal’s accusers … and might I add the plot of THE MAN WITH NINE LIVES gets very loopy even for its genre, despite its ties to real life.

Both THE MAN THEY COULD NOT HANG and THE MAN WITH NINE LIVES are rooted in Dr. Robert E. Cornish and his famous resuscitation experiments. Cornish successfully revived two dogs (Lazarus IV and V) and he wanted to expand his testing on humans. San Quentin inmate Thomas McMonigle, on Death Row, contacted Cornish and offered his body for experimentation, but California denied Cornish and McMonigle their petition because law enforcement officials feared a reanimated McMonigle would have to be freed due to “double jeopardy.” McMonigle was executed in early 1948. Cornish (1903-63) himself appeared in the 1935 film LIFE RETURNS, playing himself.

THE BOOGIE MAN WILL GET YOU plays around with similar material as the other Karloff films he made for Columbia, only more for laughs this fifth time. Yes, Karloff plays yet another mad scientist.

The presence of Karloff and Peter Lorre (1904-64) guarantees at minimum a certain quality and THE BOOGIE MAN WILL GET YOU definitely finds that minimum and nothing less or nothing more. The less said about it the better, and I wish the movie would have followed that policy.

THE MAN THEY COULD NOT HANG ***1/2; THE MAN WITH NINE LIVES ***; THE BOOGIE MAN WILL GET YOU **

Ninja Rap: Enter the Ninja, Revenge of the Ninja

NINJA RAP: ENTER THE NINJA, REVENGE OF THE NINJA

An instant word search on ninja returns this definition, “A ninja or shinobi was a covert agent or mercenary in feudal Japan. The functions of a ninja included espionage, deception, and surprise attacks. Their covert methods of waging irregular warfare were deemed dishonorable and beneath the honor of the samurai.” Buh.

It goes without saying but we’ll say it anyway that ninja survived a gratuitous Vanilla Ice rap number and mass flatulence, er, mass gas in a kiddie picture.

There’s also “A person who excels in a particular skill or activity. ‘The courses vary — you don’t have to be a computer ninja to apply.’”

I contribute: “An iconic action movie bad ass character archetype epitomized by the legendary ‘Ninja Trilogy’ from Cannon Films, ENTER THE NINJA (1981), REVENGE OF THE NINJA (1983), and NINJA III: THE DOMINATION (1984).”

I’ve already discussed NINJA III at some length — any movie that combines ENTER THE NINJA, THE EXORCIST, and FLASHDANCE must have something brilliant up her sleeve — and only very recently caught up with ENTER THE NINJA and REVENGE OF THE NINJA on the same night.

Of course, any definition of “ninja” would be greatly served by a picture of Japanese martial artist Sho Kosugi. In fact, this review would be vastly improved just by the mere insertion of a picture of The Man, The Myth, The Legend. A picture speaks louder than a thousand words … regardless, it’s not like any action movie hero worth their celluloid ever spoke a thousand words.

SHO KOSUGI

I’ve made it through most of the collected film works of Eastwood, Bruce Lee, Jackie Chan, Norris, Stallone, Schwarzenegger, et cetera, and now I am grateful for the opportunity to delve into Kosugi’s filmography. It’s a safe bet that I will eventually seek out PRAY FOR DEATH, DEATHS OF THE NINJA, and RAGE OF HONOR because they’re great titles and have great cover art in addition to starring Mr. Kosugi.

I’ll start with REVENGE OF THE NINJA, the second and best overall installment of the so-called ‘Ninja Trilogy.’ Kosugi takes on a starring role after playing second (or third or fourth) fiddle in ENTER THE NINJA, behind at least Franco Nero, Susan George, and Christopher George. The Kosugi parts are arguably the best parts of ENTER, so REVENGE serves up a full course of Kosugi with hors d’oeuvres, wine (or beer or liquor), and dessert included.

The nominal plot: “After his family is killed in Japan by ninjas, Cho and his son Kane come to America to start a new life. He opens a doll shop but is unwittingly importing heroin in the dolls. When he finds out that his friend has betrayed him, Cho must prepare for the ultimate battle he has ever been involved in.”

The actual plot: ACTION! PLENTY OF ACTION! We’re talking serious hardcore ninja action here. I’m no expert on ninja weaponry, but I do believe that REVENGE (as did ENTER before and THE DOMINATION after it) employs the ninjato, the katana, nunchaku, blowgun, shuriken, crossbow, and many, many more weapons of mass dismemberment. Gore hounds have a lot of howling to do over the ‘Ninja Trilogy.’

REVENGE prevails over ENTER because it spends more time focused on the actual plot than the nominal plot.

We have not only two fierce ninja warriors, Kosugi’s hero Cho Osaki opposed by the dastardly bastard Braden (Arthur Roberts), but we also have two, er, 1 1/2 Kosugis in this picture, since Sho’s real-life son Kane Kosugi plays Cho’s son Kane. We say 1/2 because Kane was around 9 years old when he made his memorable motion picture debut in REVENGE. He’s not one of those insufferable movie brats who mugs so heavily that I check my wallet after their every scene. He’s not David Mendenhall in OVER THE TOP, for example. Yes, he’s basically a miniaturized Sho Kosugi.

Both REVENGE and THE DOMINATION ultimately win over ENTER because they’re more entertaining and off-the-wall in that classic crazy Cannon way.

Nero, of course, makes for an effective action hero in a more traditional sense and I find his filmography very fascinating, from playing the title character in the 1966 Spaghetti Western DJANGO and Lancelot in the lavish 3-hour 1967 American musical CAMELOT (singing voice by Gene Merlino) to roles in Quentin Tarantino’s DJANGO UNCHAINED (naturally) and JOHN WICK: CHAPTER 2. Nero plays a character named “Cole” in ENTER and that has seemed to be one of the more common given names for both action movies and soap operas; Roger Ebert’s Little Movie Glossary includes The Cole Rule: “No movie made since 1977 containing a character with the first name ‘Cole’ has been any good.”

I commented during ENTER that it marked the first time I had seen English actress Susan George (STRAW DOGS) in a movie without her getting naked.

Christopher George almost walks away with the picture as the nefarious businessman Charles Venarius. He’s so bad that he’s good because George savors every single line. It is indelible fun hearing George deliver “This is 20th Century Manila, not feudal Japan.”

Kosugi appeared in all three NINJA films, as three different characters, and ultimately it is his screen presence that makes all three such enjoyable and memorable experiences.

Kill and Kill Again, Firecracker, Circle of Iron

KILL AND KILL AGAIN, FIRECRACKER, CIRCLE OF IRON

In his 1981 TV review of the South African martial arts spectacular KILL AND KILL AGAIN, Roger Ebert predicted action movie stardom for James Ryan and invoked the names Eastwood, Bronson, and Bruce Lee.

Well, in this business and life in general for that matter, you win some, you lose some.

James Ryan, who? Yeah, not exactly a household name.

Describing the plot, I would like to just string together a bunch of random words: martial arts champion for hire undercover government agent top secret rescue mission kidnapped scientist recruit colleagues alternative energy source megalomaniac uniformed cult mind control world domination bar fight mushy romance mushy talk middle-of-nowhere fight storming fortress explosions fisticuffs flips plot revelations not particularly revelatory.

There you go. KILL AND KILL AGAIN, the sequel to KILL OR BE KILLED, in a nutshell.

KILL AND KILL AGAIN works predominantly because it has a good sense of humor and it finds just the right tone to pull off being a successful action comedy.

There’s one especially fun supporting character and supporting performance, the diabolical genius’ assistant and (significant other) Minerva played by Marloe Scott-Wilson. She looks like she drifted over from ROCK ‘N’ ROLL HIGH SCHOOL or THE DECLINE OF WESTERN CIVILIZATION, especially with that ridiculous Day-Glo hairdo. She’s a lot of fun in every scene, especially when she calls residential madman Marduk (Michael Mayer) by these absolutely ridiculous pet names. She comes up with a fresh one every single time. And it rankles Marduk, because good old Minerva says her little terms of endearment right in front of everybody. At one point, Marduk tells her, “I said don’t call me Popsicle.” This running gag even has an explosive payoff in the end.

Guess we should mention that South African beauty queen Anneline Kriel — Miss World 1974 — does her own stunts in the movie. She has to overcome playing a character named “Kandy Kane.” I almost wish they would have named her character “Susan Alexander Kane” or “Emily Kane,” for all us CITIZEN KANE fans in the audience. Now, that would have been an impressive stunt.

Impressive stunts are at the heart of FIRECRACKER, especially during the film’s last 30 minutes.

We’re talking about topless kickboxing and what must surely be one of the weirdest love scenes ever committed to celluloid.

Two sicko creeps pursue our heroine Susanne Carter, played by the luscious Jillian Kesner, and they eventually shed her of her top and bra. She then proceeds to kick their asses viciously. Meanwhile, in the background, we have “Rack Master” boxes. Perfect!

“Rack Master” should have been Carter’s martial arts name and it also should have been a title for FIRECRACKER.

That’s not too much of a stretch, especially since FIRECRACKER traveled as NAKED FIST in Australia.

FIRECRACKER director Cirio H. Santiago plagiarized this topless kickboxing scene from his earlier New World Pictures extravaganza TNT JACKSON.

Now, let us consider that weird love scene. Oh Susanna and her love interest Chuck Donner (Darby Hinton) consummate their relationship, but not before they remove each other’s clothes stitch-by-stitch with a knife. Kinky. Chuck Donner and his incredible mustache, especially his incredible mustache, just scream “Creepy seducer of the ladies who killed Susanna’s sister.” Of course, Susanna does not learn of this fact until after their lovemaking.

Susanna exacts her revenge against Chuck in the ring and we all can be sure that he will never look at another woman ever again.

Kesner passed away in 2007 and she and her late husband Gary Graver (1938-2006) became known for their efforts to preserve the work and legacy of legendary director Orson Welles. I do believe it is time for another reference to CITIZEN KANE.

CIRCLE OF IRON attempts to be something bigger, greater than KILL AND KILL AGAIN and FIRECRACKER. It wants to be a transcendent exploitation film.

We are given the only clue we need as soon as the following title card appears on screen: “Prior to the death of the legendary Bruce Lee he helped to create a movie story that might capture not only the spirit of martial arts but a part of the Zen philosophy he lived by. He was aware that a film with these dynamics would cause controversy, particularly among those unfamiliar with Zen beliefs. But it was this very uniqueness that he believed wound enthrall the moviegoer. Bruce set the story in a land that never was and always is. It is to Bruce Lee that this film is posthumously dedicated.”

I was definitely not enthralled by CIRCLE OF IRON. Not very often.

It certainly did not help that Captain Hairdo, er, Jeff Cooper plays the lead character Cord and this character and performance never quite resonated with me because I kept seeing Roger Daltrey instead and I pretended it was TOMMY.

I kept waiting for Cooper’s cord to break out into song, “Listening to you, I get the music / Gazing at you I get the heat / Following you I climb the mountain / I get excitement at your feet!” and “See me, feel me, touch me, heal me.”

It never happened and I felt extremely disappointed.

David Carradine plays about four roles too many in CIRCLE OF IRON. Okay, I’ll say three roles too many, because we get one of the film’s most entertaining scenes when Carradine assumes the guise of “Monkeyman.” At one point, Carradine’s wig came off and I thought shit like that only happened in SAMURAI COP.

Christopher Lee passed on THE LEGEND OF THE 7 GOLDEN VAMPIRES, a joint venture between Hammer Studios and the Shaw Brothers, because he did not want to play Dracula for the millionth time … but he plays what turns out to be a role that sucks even more in CIRCLE OF IRON, Zoltar, er, Zetan. This is one of those quest movies where you’ll become irritated after hearing a certain name — Zetan, maybe — many, many, many, many, many, many times.

Orson Welles asked me not to reference a certain movie during this review of CIRCLE OF IRON. I must respect his wishes.

KILL AND KILL AGAIN ***; FIRECRACKER ***; CIRCLE OF IRON **

Bride of Re-Animator (1990)

BRIDE OF RE-ANIMATOR

BRIDE OF RE-ANIMATOR (1990) ***

Jeffrey Combs’ Herbert West is one of the all-time great movie characters and his presence alone makes BRIDE OF RE-ANIMATOR, a sequel to the 1985 cult favorite RE-ANIMATOR, worth a recommendation.

H.P. Lovecraft first created Herbert West for the 1922 short story “Herbert West-Reanimator.” RE-ANIMATOR took inspiration from “From the Dark” and “The Plague-Demon” (the first two sections), while BRIDE OF RE-ANIMATOR turned to “The Horror from the Shadows” and “The Tomb Legions” (the final two). West is the central human character in both films.

How to describe West for the uninitiated, that’s a challenge I face during this review. I first think of comparing West to a horror movie character archetype like Colin Clive’s Victor Frankenstein or, to be more precise, Peter Cushing’s Victor Frankenstein from the Hammer FRANKENSTEIN series. He’s brilliant, narcissistic, intense, intensely driven, and essentially amoral. He’s even far less interested in the ladies than Cushing’s Frankenstein. He’s only focused on his work.

West is one of those characters that we love to hate, like Cushing’s Victor Frankenstein and Michael Moriarty’s Jimmy Quinn in Q: THE WINGED SERPENT. There’s that great pencil breaking scene in RE-ANIMATOR, for example, that epitomizes West. He’s one of the great movie assholes.

Alas, most of the rest of BRIDE OF RE-ANIMATOR does not measure up against both West and the first picture. First and foremost, RE-ANIMATOR director and co-writer Stuart Gordon did not return for the sequel and instead Brian Yuzna directed from his own script. Yuzna earned production credits on his friend Gordon’s films RE-ANIMATOR, FROM BEYOND, and DOLLS.

Basically, I find that BRIDE OF RE-ANIMATOR drags more than RE-ANIMATOR or it’s a bit of a slog to get to the sequel’s rather nifty grand finale. I was really struggling around the hour mark and I even contemplated exiting BRIDE OF RE-ANIMATOR.

West’s arch nemesis from the first movie, Dr. Carl Hill (David Gale), returns for the sequel or at least his infamous disembodied head shows up for work. We do not get enough scenes with Hill in the sequel and that helps explain why BRIDE OF RE-ANIMATOR sputters a bit during its middle portion.

The incredible tension between West and Hill contributed a great deal to the success of RE-ANIMATOR. That’s predominantly missing from BRIDE OF RE-ANIMATOR and West battling a persistent burly policeman simply does not possess the same magic. However, we do ultimately have a great payoff when Hill and West are finally reunited.

Bruce Abbott’s Dan Cain returns for the sequel in his role of the straight man and main audience identification figure. He’s not as effective as he was in the first movie.

Kathleen Kinmont and Fabiana Udenio do not make up for the first movie’s Barbara Crampton.

The one area where the sequel trumps the original is special effects, especially during the final 20 minutes. Credited artists include John Carl Buechler, Screaming Mad George, Greg Nicotero, and David Allen, who rank among the best in their field.

Combs’ West and the special effects make BRIDE OF RE-ANIMATOR one of those relatively difficult to come-by sequels that works.

Samurai Cop (1991)

SAMURAI COP

SAMURAI COP (1991) ***

An outtake is defined as “a scene or sequence filmed or recorded for a movie or program but not included in the final version.”

Blown lines and stunts, we all know the routine by now.

Hal Needham and Jackie Chan may have made outtakes for the end credits a cinematic institution, but Iranian “jack of all trades and master of none” Amir Shervan (1929-2006) directed SAMURAI COP, a feature movie solely comprised of outtakes.

Shervan trumped such legendary figures as Dwain Esper, William “One Shot” Beaudine, Bert I. Gordon, Bill Rebane, Ray Dennis Steckler, and even Ed Wood in absolute sheer incompetence.

Like a select few bad movies, SAMURAI COP is so, so, so bad in so, so, so many marvelous ways that it passes all the way through bad into good. It belongs filed next to Efren C. Pinon’s THE KILLING OF SATAN and Claudio Fragasso’s TROLL 2.

— Mathew Karedas, a.k.a. Matt Hannon, stars as Joe Marshall. Most people, though, just call him “Samurai Cop.” Joe must be the least convincing samurai in all history, cinematic and otherwise. For one, Joe’s entire look screams more Fabio and Kato Kaelin than, let’s say, Toshiro Mifune and his most dangerous weapon brandished is that damn speedo he spends what feels like the entire second half of the movie in. Anyway, for somebody allegedly well-versed in the Japanese vernacular, he sure does struggle pronouncing the name “Fujiyama.” When asked by his partner Frank Washington (Mark Frazer) what “katana” means, Joe snaps back “It means Japanese sword.” You don’t say, you don’t say.

— Samurai Cop arguably spends more time being a ladies man than anything else. No, seriously, he beds three, er, two women and he even blatantly talks about the beauty of another woman in the presence of his lover. Smooth, real smooth. Late in the 96-minute spread, he tells his future conquest, “Let’s just say … I can read eyes.” I wish that you couldn’t read dialogue.

Here’s a dialogue exchange from the Planet-X:

Nurse: Do you like what you see?

Joe Marshall: I love what I see.

N: Would you like to touch what you see?

JM: Yes. Yes, I would.

N: Would you like to go out with me?

JM: Uh, yes I would.

N: Would you like to fuck me?

JM: Bingo.

N: Well, then let’s see what you’ve got …

[Nurse investigates Joe’s bulge]

N: Doesn’t interest me. Nothing there.

JM: Nothing there? Just exactly what would interest you, something the size of a jumbo jet?

N: Have you been circumcised?

JM: Yeah, I have, why?

N: Your doctor must have cut a large portion off.

JM: No, uh, he was a, he was a good doctor.

N: Good doctors make mistakes too, that’s why they have insurance.

JM: Hey … don’t worry. I got enough. It’s big.

N: I want bigger.

[Nurse walks away]

I doubt that any screen lothario has ever partaken in dialogue that bad and the sound that we just heard is Rudolph Valentino saying “Thank you” for having made only silent movies.

That dialogue plays like a combination of a porno movie and “Dick and Jane” (most of the rest of the movie belongs to knocking off LETHAL WEAPON) and it belongs alongside the SHARK ATTACK 3: MEGALODON interchange in the anals, er, annals of cinematic history:

Cataline Stone: I’m exhausted.

Ben Carpenter: Yeah, me too. But you know I’m really wired. What do you say … I take you home and eat your pussy.

Boy, that’s just about as great as the whole “Fini can water you” debacle from YES, GIORGIO.

— Lead actor Matt Hannon thought he was done with the picture and got himself a short haircut. Several months later, Shervan looked up Hannon and informed him they were going to reshoot scenes. Unfortunately, Hannon still had short hair. I say unfortunately because Hannon wears one of the least convincing wigs ever made during SAMURAI COP. It does not help that Hannon’s wig flies off during a late fight scene and the actor also displays his obvious displeasure having to wear his wig. Yeah, it’s that bad.

— The chase scenes alternate between moving incredibly slow (nothing like slow-moving cars …) and being artificially sped up (… except for cars that zip along unnaturally). Yes, there are times when the action in SAMURAI COP plays like a silent film projected at the wrong speed.

— Not sure that I want to spend that much more time and space on SAMURAI COP, because I don’t want to risk writing a dissertation. Yes, over 750 words feels like I have been writing on this movie for a long time. However, there’s so many more things wrong but right about SAMURAI COP that we could be here all day, ironic for a movie that lasts a meager 96 minutes. Just imagine SAMURAI COP at GONE WITH THE WIND length.

— In a review long ago, I wrote that the 1979 Chuck Norris action vehicle A FORCE OF ONE combines a standard issue cops and criminals plot acted out by a good cast with martial arts and a “very subtle” anti-drug message that plays like one of those infamous 1980s TV commercials, only featuring roundhouse kicks.

On that note, we can end this review with a public service announcement from SAMURAI COP: “Now I’m telling these son-of-a-bitches that we respect the Japanese of this country, who are honest businessmen. And yeah, this is the land of opportunity for legitimate business, not for death merchants who distribute drugs to our children through schools and on the streets. Now I’m telling these motherfuckers that if they continue killing our children to make their precious millions that they deposit in their secret Swiss bank accounts, counselor, before your lawsuit even gets off the court clerk’s desk, I’ll have their stinking bodies in garbage bags and ship them back to Japan for fertilizer.”

Beautiful, absolutely beautiful, and it makes me want to pop a top on an ice cold one and blast Alice Cooper’s “I Love America.”

Fade to Black (1980)

FADE TO BLACK

FADE TO BLACK (1980) ***

Vernon Zimmerman wrote and directed FADE TO BLACK, a horror film that shows the darkest side of an obsession with movies. Its main character, Eric Binford (Dennis Christopher), takes cinemania literally, as he kills his victims in the guise of his favorite movie characters. They include Dracula, the Mummy, and Hopalong Cassidy.

FADE TO BLACK reached theaters on October 14, 1980. Nearly two months later, disillusioned Beatles fan Mark David Chapman killed former Beatle member John Lennon outside his residence at the Dakota Apartments in New York City. Chapman shot Lennon four times in the back with a .38 special. Chapman stayed at the scene and read from J.D. Salinger’s “The Catcher in the Rye” until the police arrived to arrest him. Chapman became fixated on “Catcher” protagonist Holden Caulfield, who loved to rail against “the phonies,” and Chapman surely considered Lennon a phony.

Eric is barely hanging on at the beginning of FADE TO BLACK. His wheelchair bound Aunt Stella (Eve Brent Ashe), who we later find out is actually his mother, nags at him; for example, her first lines are “Eric! Get up! Well, lookie here. Mister Smart Mouth fell asleep with his nose buried in the screen again! Your one-eyed monster is gonna soften your eyes, much less rot your brain! You spend all your time daydreaming and watching those silly movies on the TV and your projector.” Aunt Stella even blames Eric for her accident and her subsequent paralysis many years ago.

Had she ever seen KISS OF DEATH, she might not have been so hateful to the kid. Eric, though, seems to have a special affinity for Richard Widmark’s Tommy Udo, a precursor to Heath Ledger’s Joker in THE DARK KNIGHT. Udo’s the type of guy who thinks nothing of pushing an old lady in a wheelchair down a flight of stairs to her eventual demise.

Eric is a perpetual fuck up at his job at a film distributor’s warehouse and his boss Mr. Berger (Norman Burton), well, you know, he does what a good boss does in a horror movie built around revenge. Eric discovers Mr. Berger’s weakness, a weak heart that could stop ticking any time if Mr. Berger proved unable to reach his precious medication.

Co-workers Richie (Mickey Rourke) and Bart (Hennen Chambers), especially Richie, give Eric grief every chance they get.

One day, Eric spots Australian model and Marilyn Monroe lookalike Marilyn O’Connor (Linda Kerridge, in a sensational movie debut) eating in a cafe with her friend. Eric works up the courage to strike up a conversation with Marilyn and he asks her what movie Marilyn Monroe and Tom Ewell watched in THE SEVEN YEAR INCH. (I know this one. May I please answer? THE CREATURE FROM THE BLACK LAGOON.) Eric asks Marilyn out to a movie that night and she says yes. He’s all excited, for a change, about something in the “real world.” …

Marilyn unintentionally stands up Eric, a prostitute treats him like shit, Stella smashes his film projector, and, yes, Eric loses his shit and for the rest of the picture, he seeks vengeance against those who he feels have wronged him.

Even a shady filmmaker named Gary Bially (Morgan Paull) crosses Eric by stealing his idea for a nifty low-budget film named ALABAMA AND THE FORTY THIEVES, which Eric says would be made in the early 1950s style of Samuel Fuller.

I’ve read in several places that FADE TO BLACK fails because Christopher gives a bad performance and/or Eric Binford proves to be such a detestable protagonist. Reviews mentioned that Christopher plays a character totally unlike his Dave Stoller in BREAKING AWAY, Christopher’s last big film before FADE TO BLACK.

An unhinged character like Eric Binford — especially since he loves imitating his favorite movie characters in both appearance and speech — allows the actor latitude to push a performance over-the-top and Christopher definitely pushes those limits for even somebody (like me, for example) who admires his performance in FADE TO BLACK.

I give Christopher a tremendous amount of slack after his breakout performance in BREAKING AWAY; he created one of the more lovable characters in cinematic history and I’ll always be grateful to Christopher for that.

Reviewers, though, apparently forgot Dave Stoller’s obsession with bicycling and everything Italian. Did they not remember “cutter” Dave pretending to be Italian exchange student Enrico Gimondi to impress and then date a cute Indiana University co-ed? Dave even renamed poor Jake the Cat “Fellini.”

Eric and Dave are not as different as reviewers have suggested. Eric just lived a tougher life right from the start and he was definitely not blessed with great friends and family like Dave Stoller. We could get into the whole “Nature vs. Nurture” discussion and when’s the last time a horror movie spurred on that.

What I especially liked about FADE TO BLACK is that it follows Eric’s descent into madness all the way to its inevitable conclusion — especially inevitable since Eric becomes Cody Jarrett from WHITE HEAT — and then it finishes in such a flourish atop legendary movie palace Grauman’s Chinese Theatre to make WHITE HEAT director Raoul Walsh and star Jimmy Cagney proud. “Made it Ma! Top of the world!”

The Giant Claw (1957)

THE GIANT CLAW (1957) ***

Funny how none of the alternate titles for THE GIANT CLAW, a low-budget monster movie from director Fred Sears and producer Sam Katzman, are BATTLESHIP or FLYING BATTLESHIP or BIG AS A BATTLESHIP, because that’s how multiple characters — especially our protagonist, electronics engineer Mitch MacAfee (Jeff Morrow) — describe “The Giant Claw” for at least the first 30 minutes.

Of course, the Giant Claw looks absolutely nothing like a battleship. Mitch himself says at one point to his lady friend’s expression of disbelief, “I said it looked like a battleship, not that it was a battleship.” Yeah, sure, whatever, best never mind.

I love how most of the movie’s promotional goods avoid revealing the Giant Claw’s face, because that act would have undoubtedly scared off potential customers or attracted only those with a taste for absolutely ridiculous movies. At least, that way — not depicting the monster honestly in cinematic propaganda — it took precisely 27 minutes before audiences had the laughter of a lifetime caused by a movie monster. This is one of those movies where I would love to get in a time machine and head for the nearest theater (or drive-in) playing THE GIANT CLAW when it opened in June 1957. How did initial audiences react to it? Did they hoot and holler and howl derisively? Did they flee in total disbelief at the latest Sam Katzman motion picture monstrosity? Did they seek a refund to absolutely no avail? Did they write their Congressmen to complain?

One poster proclaims, “Winged Monster from 17,000,000 B.C.!” “Big as a Battleship!” “Flies 4 Times The Speed of Sound!” “Atomic Weapons Can’t Hurt It!” There’s a drawing of a bird — wings, body, and talons but no face — destroying a plane and a skyscraper. Could that be the Empire State Building? All pictorial renderings of the bird are basically the same — wings, body, and talons, as well as destruction, but no face — and that’s deceptive advertising in a nutshell. (Only those who got to watch the trailer got the real dope on THE GIANT CLAW.)

The producers originally planned to get stop-motion animation titan Ray Harryhausen (MIGHTY JOE YOUNG, JASON AND THE ARGONAUTS, CLASH OF THE TITANS) to create the monster, but he proved to be too much budget and so they outsourced the bird to a model maker in Mexico City. Reportedly, Katzman spent $50 on the puppet that became known as the Giant Claw. Fifty dollars well spent, for sure, and way to go, Uncle Sam.

The film’s posters and the characters themselves fail to accurately describe the giant bird mass murderer in THE GIANT CLAW. To be fair to the actors, they had no idea during filming what the Giant Claw would look like and were left to their own imagination. The characters, though, are made to look like blithering idiots because there’s a vast disconnect between their words and “The Giant Claw” itself, beginning with the battleship description. The filmmakers especially hung out lead actor Morrow to dry, because he gives a legitimately good performance. Legend has it that Morrow ducked out of the theater in embarrassment and got drunk at home after the audience laughed at the Giant Claw’s first appearance. It apparently only took once for Morrow.

Guess that I should try myself to describe the head of the Giant Claw puppet. Extremely long neck, big teeth, flaring nostrils, bulging eyes, and a Mohawk that should be the envy of any buzzard or punk rock singer.

Over the course of the plot, we discover this killer giant bird is actually an alien avian who has come to Earth to lay eggs and wreak destruction and terror on poor, poor humanity. We learn even more, but I will leave that explanatory exposition out of this review for all those individuals who have not seen THE GIANT CLAW before. Trust me, it gets even better as the film attempts to explain the Giant Claw more and more with dialogue passages that could inspire bouts of hysterical laughter. I believe the Mayo Clinic calls it “Pseudobulbar affect.”

Bottom line: This alien avian was sabotaged by a chintzy movie producer named Sam Katzman (1901-73) and both “The Giant Claw” and THE GIANT CLAW will live in infamy as one of the great bad movie monsters and one of the great bad movies, respectively. During my first viewing, I enjoyed THE GIANT CLAW more than many so-called “good” movies.

I have one particular favorite scene in THE GIANT CLAW.

It is reminiscent of the scene in Q: THE WINGED SERPENT (produced by Samuel Z. Arkoff) when lovable hateful creep Jimmy Quinn (Michael Moriarty) leads two hoods leaning on him to the Quetzalcoatl in the Chrysler Building. We hear the Big Q take a couple bites out of crime and Quinn absolutely revels in their demise, “Eat ‘em, eat ‘em! Crunch! Crunch!” I love to hate Quinn even more after that scene.

Anyway, when the Giant Claw chomps on a pair of parachuting passengers, I said out loud, “Crunch! Crunch!” Please keep in mind that in quarantine, no one can hear you scream.

The Legend of the 7 Golden Vampires (1974)

THE LEGEND OF THE 7 GOLDEN VAMPIRES

THE LEGEND OF THE 7 GOLDEN VAMPIRES (1974) ***

It was really only a matter of time before Hammer, the British masters of the macabre, and the Shaw Brothers, the Hong Kong masters of martial arts, would combine forces and make the world’s first martial arts vampire movie spectacular. An exploitation movie fan’s wet dream come true, in other words.

They created THE LEGEND OF THE 7 GOLDEN VAMPIRES in 1974, not the greatest vampire or martial arts movie ever made, of course, but still an enjoyable romp for those who have a hankering for (in no particular order, except for the last item) vampire hunting, neck biting, blood letting, boiling blood, severed hands, throat slitting, stabbings through the heart, vampires turning to dust, fake bats, fake castles, sword fights, martial arts combat between warriors and vampires & their minions, archery, breasts, romance, and one ridiculous, anticlimactic ending. Three stars, check it out.

Christopher Lee first played Dracula for Hammer in 1958 and he returned for PRINCE OF DARKNESS (1966), DRACULA HAS RISEN FROM THE GRAVE (1968), TASTE THE BLOOD OF DRACULA (1970), SCARS OF DRACULA (1970), DRACULA 1972 (1972), and THE SATANIC RITES OF DRACULA (1973). Lee’s animosity toward the series increased over time and he finally refused to participate in THE LEGEND OF THE 7 GOLDEN VAMPIRES after seven times as the Count. Lee read the script and said “No deal.”

That’s a bummer, especially since John Forbes-Robinson makes for a horrible Dracula. How horrible? They dubbed him with David de Keyser and Dracula only appears in a few minutes at the beginning and end of the picture. In the opening scene, Dracula kills a Chinese monk and takes on his form. (Reportedly, Forbes-Robinson was furious about being dubbed. Hey, it’s not the first time in history. A few years after GOLDEN VAMPIRES, SATURN 3 director Stanley Donen felt dissatisfied with Harvey Keitel’s Brooklyn accent and since Mr. Keitel refused participation in post-production, Donen dubbed over Keitel with a British actor using a Mid-Atlantic accent.)

Granted, we do have Peter Cushing for the fifth time as Professor Van Helsing. Who else would handle the plot exposition through dialogue scenes? How about that plot? Van Helsing, on a lecture stop in China, agrees to help seven siblings (six men, one woman) take back their ancestral mountain village that’s been taken over by seven “golden” vampires (including Dracula trapped in another body) and their living dead minions. Then again, I already described the plot in 44 words in the second paragraph.

THE LEGEND OF THE 7 GOLDEN VAMPIRES can stand with any of the goofiest Shaw Brothers spectaculars and it ranks among the best of the Hammer Dracula films.