Black Christmas (1974)

BLACK CHRISTMAS

BLACK CHRISTMAS (1974) Three stars

Watching BLACK CHRISTMAS for the first time, one might be surprised just how many standards of the slasher film can be seen during this 1974 Canadian chestnut from director Bob Clark.

Let’s see, we have an opening shot later repeated by John Carpenter’s HALLOWEEN, a killer who racks up a rather impressive body count, POV shots from the killer’s perspective, obscene phone calls from the killer following every killing, plot twists (including the location of the caller), “The Final Girl,” and a shock ending, as well a holiday theme. BLACK CHRISTMAS basically synthesized elements that were already present during previous films like PSYCHO, PEEPING TOM, and Mario Bava movies BLOOD AND BLACK LACE and TWITCH OF THE DEATH NERVE into a single horror film narrative.

The plot also echoes “The Babysitter & The Man Upstairs” urban legend, so we already know the location of the caller. Still, the characters do not, so it’s a jolt hearing “The call is coming from inside the house.” Several movies, notably BLACK CHRISTMAS and WHEN A STRANGER CALLS, have relied on this angle for their chills and thrills.

A real-life case has been credited for inspiring the urban legend.

On Mar. 18, 1950, 13-year-old babysitter Janett Christman was raped and strangled to death in Columbia, Missouri, three days before her 14th birthday. Mr. and Mrs. Ed Romack found the body when they returned home, but, fortunately, their 3-year-old son Gregory was still alive, sleeping in his room. From the AP story, “Prosecuting Attorney Carl Sapp said blood was smeared through the house, indicating the girl put up a terrific struggle. … Footprints were found in a sleet-covered area near a broken window in the house. Police believe the intruder crawled through the window. The state highway patrol also is processing fingerprints found at the scene.”

More from the report, “An electric iron cord was twisted around the girl’s throat. Her scalp had been pierced several times by an instrument, apparently similar to a small lead pipe.”

Christman may have attempted to call the police around 11 p.m. the night of her death. Columbia policeman Roy McCowan took a call from a frightened girl who told him to “come quick.” “I urged her to calm down and just tell me where she was,” he said. “Then there was silence — not the sound of a receiver being hung up — just silence.” The Romacks’ phone was discovered “improperly placed on the instrument.”

Christman’s murder remains unsolved.

Just a few years earlier in Columbia, Stephens College student Marylou Jenkins, a white woman, was raped and murdered with an electric cord (reportedly from a lamp) twisted around her throat. An all-white jury convicted black man Floyd Cochran of the crime and he was executed Sept. 26, 1947 in the Missouri State Penitentiary Gas Chamber in Jefferson City. Cochran was originally arrested for murdering his wife with a shotgun and then he confessed to raping and murdering Jenkins.

For his last meal, Cochran ordered but did not partake in consuming a T-bone steak, french fries, scalloped corn, cream gravy, bread, butter, cake, and coffee. He died at the age of 36.

From 1938 through 1989, Missouri put to death 40 inmates in the gas chamber at Jefferson City, with John Brown the first on Mar. 3, 1938 and George “Tiny” Mercer the last on Jan. 6, 1989. Mercer was the first person from Missouri executed since 1965.

Just about seemingly every horror movie in existence shoots for a slambang ending, so we leave it discussing just what happened inside our heads or with all our friends and loved ones who have also seen this movie. BLACK CHRISTMAS gives us a rather unconventional ending, in that we are left unsure of the fate of protagonist Jess (Olivia Hussey) as she’s alone in the sorority house with the killer. Also, we never find out the real identity of the killer other than he’s named “Billy” and very rare indeed is the horror movie (especially a slasher) without a great big reveal in the grand finale. You just might have to be a fan or at least more forgiving of an ambiguous ending to appreciate BLACK CHRISTMAS. Either way, though, it will be discussed.

Like the later HALLOWEEN, BLACK CHRISTMAS thrives on atmosphere. That’s what they both do best and why fans appreciate them all these decades later.

Both films have rather distinguished casts for low-budget horror movies. Hussey came to fame during her teenage years for her performance as Juliet in Franco Zeffirelli’s 1968 ROMEO AND JULIET. Keir Dullea played astronaut Dave Bowman in both 2001: A SPACE ODYSSEY (1968) and later 2010 (1984); Dave uttered the famous words, “Open the pod bay doors please, HAL.” Margot Kidder (1948-2018) appeared previously in Brian De Palma’s 1973 shocker SISTERS and subsequently made her fame as Lois Lane in four Superman movies. Character actor John Saxon’s six-decade career includes ENTER THE DRAGON, TENEBRAE, A NIGHTMARE ON ELM STREET, and FROM DUSK TILL DAWN.

Director, screenwriter, and producer Clark (1939-2007) is best known for his two radically different nostalgia pieces, PORKY’S and A CHRISTMAS STORY. Yes, please wrap that magnificently designed brain around the fact that Clark directed both BLACK CHRISTMAS and A CHRISTMAS STORY. Louisiana born Clark found his greatest success up north in Canada. PORKY’S supporting actors Doug McGrath and Art Hindle both appear in BLACK CHRISTMAS.

Kidder almost steals the show in BLACK CHRISTMAS as the drunken, profane sorority girl Barb. She rips into her dialogue with extra relish. Hussey makes for a good entry point and rooting interest. Saxon knows how to maximize his screen time.

For horror movie fans who have not yet seen BLACK CHRISTMAS, I fully recommend amending it immediately.

The Last Dragon (1985)

THE LAST DRAGON

THE LAST DRAGON (1985) Three stars

Gene Siskel included THE LAST DRAGON among his “Guilty Pleasures” in a 1987 “Siskel & Ebert” show and he gave it one of his funniest reviews, highlighted by “I’m a sucker for glowing fingers. Roger, I see glowing fingers in a movie, I tend to like the movie. … Just one finger (in E.T.), that’s how much I like it. In this one, you get 20. Two men, Roger, 20. Can you imagine the ads? ‘20 times the entertainment value of E.T.’” Siskel gave it three-and-a-half stars in his 1985 print review.

Roger Ebert gave it a mixed negative review and two-and-a-half stars, “THE LAST DRAGON turns into a funny, high-energy combination of karate, romance, rock music and sensational special effects. It’s so entertaining that I could almost recommend it … if it weren’t for an idiotic subplot about a gangster and his girlfriend, a diversion that brings the movie to a dead halt every eight or nine minutes. … They’ve been borrowed from a hundred other movies, they say things that have been said a hundred other times, and they walk around draining the movie of its vitality. They’re tired old cliches getting in the way of the natural energy of Taimak, Vanity and the Shogun character.”

I find myself occupying the middle ground between Siskel and Ebert. They both agreed on the strengths and the weaknesses of THE LAST DRAGON, but Siskel found the strengths to be stronger and Ebert the weaknesses to be weaker. LAST DRAGON co-stars Taimak, Vanity, and Julius J. Carry III are the strengths and Chris Murney as comic gangster Eddie Arkadian and Faith Prince as his aspiring singer girlfriend Angela Viracco are the weaknesses.

Taimak (full name Taimak Guarriello) stars as Leroy Green, who’s inspired by the works of Bruce Lee to such a degree that he’s called “Bruce Leroy.” He’s in pursuit of “The Glow,” referenced memorably by Siskel — see, only a true martial arts master can exhibit “The Glow” over his entire body and that’s Leroy’s No. 1 goal. Scenes like “Don’t think, feel! It’s like a finger pointing away to the moon. Do not concentrate on the finger or you will miss all of the heavenly glory” from ENTER THE DRAGON undoubtedly warmed the heart of Mr. Leroy … and possibly Motown mogul Berry Gordy, whose Motown Productions sponsored THE LAST DRAGON.

He’s opposed by Sho’nuff (Carry III), a.k.a. “The Shogun of Harlem,” who sees Leroy in his way for ultimate martial arts mastery. Sho’nuff interrupts a showing of the sacred text ENTER THE DRAGON in an urban theater and he throws down the gauntlet, “Well well, well. If it ain’t the serious, elusive Leroy Green. I’ve been waiting a long time for this, Leroy. I am sick of hearing these bullshit Superman stories about the — Wassah! — legendary Bruce Leroy catching bullets with his teeth. Catches bullets with his teeth? Nigga please.” Leroy counters with two platitudes that he might have gleaned from the “Kung Fu” TV show, then Sho’nuff throws it down again, “See, now it is mumbo jumbo like that, and skinny little lizards like you thinkin’ they the last dragon that gives kung fu a bad name. Get up, Leroy, I got somethin’ real fo’ yo’ ass in these hands.” Carry III (1952-2008) undoubtedly prepared for his role as Sho’nuff by playing in both DISCO GODFATHER, his debut feature, and THE FISH THAT SAVED PITTSBURGH.

All roads lead to a final showdown between Leroy and Sho’nuff when, sure enough, they both have “The Glow.” Leroy, though, finally exhibits true martial arts mastery.

Bruce Leroy also becomes the protector of television personality Laura Charles (Vanity) against them comic gangsters. She tells Leroy, “I thought that maybe it would be a great idea if I got myself a bodyguard. You know, like someone to guard my body? What girl could do worse than to have her own real life kung fu master?”

THE LAST DRAGON is a lot of fun, especially for viewers who are fans of martial arts spectaculars, particularly Bruce Lee. During the 1985 episode they reviewed THE LAST DRAGON, Siskel and Ebert lamented the lack of quality martial arts entertainment in a special “X-ray segment.” They singled out three “better” martial arts films that predated THE LAST DRAGON: ENTER THE DRAGON, THE OCTAGON starring Chuck Norris, and THE KARATE KID, the surprise blockbuster from 1984. I felt bad for Siskel and Ebert, because it seemed like they missed a great many great martial arts films like DRUNKEN MASTER and THE 36TH CHAMBER OF SHAOLIN, for example, and instead they made several “Dogs of the Week” (their picks for worst movie each episode until September ‘82) from seeing obviously inferior martial arts imports with lousy prints and horrific dubbing. It would be difficult for anybody not to form a negative opinion about martial arts films from seeing only the mass-produced bargain-basement rip-offs that almost immediately came in the wake of Bruce Lee’s death in 1973.

Thankfully, through ventures like the Dragon Dynasty, we can see classics like THE 36TH CHAMBER, KING BOXER (a.k.a. FIVE FINGERS OF DEATH), THE ONE-ARMED SWORDSMAN, FIST OF LEGEND, MAD MONKEY KUNG FU, FIVE DEADLY VENOMS, and EIGHT DIAGRAM POLE FIGHTER in quality prints and not dubbed in dodgy English. Films like these have provided me a ridiculous amount of enjoyment over the years.

Roller Boogie (1979)

ROLLER BOOGIE

ROLLER BOOGIE (1979) *1/2

Hot on the heels of reviewing THANK GOD IT’S FRIDAY, here’s another one where it’s a soundtrack in search of a movie.

Or, in other words, a gimmick in search of a movie. ROLLER BOOGIE belongs to a specific time and place of quickie exploitation flick: post-SATURDAY NIGHT FEVER boogie down and roller skating, hence that genius title.

ROLLER BOOGIE should have been a better film. I mean, director Mark L. Lester went on to make CLASS OF 1984 and COMMANDO, two films that go above-and-beyond in going over-the-top and that’s both films’ best virtue by far.

Not in ROLLER BOOGIE, though, which earns a ‘PG’ from the MPAA. It should have been ‘R.’

I’ll give one example.

Early on in the picture, we’re talking first few minutes here, our female lead Terry Barkley (Linda Blair) gets dressed and we sense there’s a missing nude scene, like they filmed one but left it on the cutting room floor. This early scene establishes the awkwardness that we sense around Blair’s character all movie.

We find Blair, who was in her late teens when she made ROLLER BOOGIE, in her transition period, between her breakout in THE EXORCIST (1973) and later exploitation films like CHAINED HEAT and SAVAGE STREETS. Maybe it’s because I watched ROLLER BOOGIE after her later films that I felt like the 1979 film teases us with possibilities that it ultimately did not want to pursue, undoubtedly for commercial reasons. The one song that should have been written for Blair: “I’m Not a Girl, Not Yet a Woman,” which was instead written for Britney Spears at the turn of the 21st Century. Rick James wrote “Cold Blooded” (title song for his 1983 album) about his relationship with Blair. “Cold Blooded” hit No. 40 on the Billboard Hot 100.

Upon further reflection, ROLLER BOOGIE does go above-and-beyond in recycling grand old cliches and stereotypes, pilfering from both the Mickey Rooney-Judy Garland “Let’s put on a show” movies of the late 1930s and early ‘40s and the Frankie Avalon-Annette Funicello BEACH PARTY movies of the early ‘60s in addition to SATURDAY NIGHT FEVER and the disco and roller skating fads more contemporaneous with ROLLER BOOGIE.

Like THANK GOD IT’S FRIDAY, ROLLER BOOGIE rattles off characters and scenes we have seen many times before.

Terry develops a romance with roller boogie master Bobby James (Jim Bray), who, get this, comes from another socioeconomic class than rich girl and musical genius Terry. Bray makes both his film debut and finale, basically playing a fictional version of himself … not all that well. He does skate convincingly, of course, and he does possess a great smile, but in any scene that requires any emotion whatsoever Bray absolutely falls flat on his face. Bray apparently had already earned 275 trophies for his skating before he made ROLLER BOOGIE. For his acting, though, Bray received “Dishonourable Mention” from the Stinkers Bad Movie Awards; Robby Benson won “Worst Actor” for WALK PROUD. Blair lost “Worst Actress” to Barbra Streisand in THE MAIN EVENT.

Then we have Franklin (Christopher S. Nelson), who’s this hopeless rich snob always lusting after Terry’s bod. We’ve seen this character archetype before, like Collins Hedgeworth (Paul Linke) in GRAND THEFT AUTO and Spaulding Smails (John F. Barmon Jr.) in CADDYSHACK. You remember Spaulding? He’s the snotty but spectacularly slobby grandson of Judge Smails (Ted Knight). In a classic scene, Spaulding wants a hamburger, no, a cheeseburger, a hot dog, and a milkshake … before Judge Smails sets the impetuous lad straight, “You’ll get nothing, and like it.” Well, there’s nothing that funny or worthwhile in ROLLER BOOGIE. Franklin’s scenes drag ROLLER BOOGIE down.

Cartoon gangsters lean on Jammer Delaney (Sean McClory), the owner of roller boogie rink Jammers. Nobody would ever believe this plot thread, but this here old Jammer, why he’s the last property owner holding out. Jammer’s sitting on a relative gold mine and he’s standing in the way of progress. We have seen this old cinematic war horse trotted out for everything ranging from BLACK BELT JONES (where property owner Scatman Crothers died from the weakest punch in cinematic history) to WHO’S THE MAN? Cartoon gangsters rarely ever bode well for a motion picture spread and they do not for ROLLER BOOGIE. I do not want to write another word on the plot.

Kimberly Beck’s next screen credit would be as final girl Trish Jarvis in 1984’s FRIDAY THE 13TH: THE FINAL CHAPTER. She famously said of the FRIDAY THE 13TH series: “I had never seen any of the FRIDAY films. And I didn’t want to see any of them. I still have never seen any of them. I just don’t like that kind of genre at all. And this was not even a B-movie, it was really just a C-movie.” Unfortunately, we do not have a quote from Beck detailing her experience playing Terry’s best friend Lana, who does really fill out her outfits rather nicely in ROLLER BOOGIE. She provides one of the fleeting pleasures of the movie. Sometimes, you take it wherever you can find it and ask questions never.

Thank God It’s Friday (1978)

THANK GOD IT'S FRIDAY

THANK GOD IT’S FRIDAY (1978) *1/2

Alternate title: PRAISE JESUS FOR STEREOTYPES.

Let’s enumerate them.

— The underage girls Frannie (Valerie Landsburg) and Jeannie (Terri Nunn) who sneak in.

— The awesome dancer Marv Gomez (Chick Vennera).

— The aspiring singer Nicole Sims who’s played by a superstar singer (Donna Summer).

— The fast-talking DJ Bobby Speed (Ray Vitte) who seemingly holds the fate of the world in his little hands, one record at a time.

— The straight married couple, Dave (Mark Lonow) and Sue (Andrea Howard), who are wanting to broaden their horizons. I believe they have the last name “Dullard.” Dave and Sue Dullard. Perfect.

— The swinging ladies man owner Tony (Jeff Goldblum) who makes a bet that he can conquer a married woman tonight. Sue Dullard, maybe?

— Two hopelessly polar opposite dates, Gus (Chuck Sacci) and Shirley (Hilary Beane), who have been set up by a computer dating service.

— Oh, there are more and more and more stereotypes in the cast, including Jennifer played by future star Debra Winger, but I’ll cut myself a little bit slack and cut this list very, very, very short.

— I should mention that it’s Friday night, of course, at the Zoo and the Commodores are slotted to play if Floyd (DeWayne Jessie) shows up with the instruments. I have a feeling that Floyd will let us down, but honestly, I believe that he flew the coop to go work on his scene in NATIONAL LAMPOON’S ANIMAL HOUSE (released two months after I LIKE SATURDAY MORE). You might remember Floyd as lead singer Otis Day of Otis Day and the Knights and their smash rendition of “Shout.” Floyd must fail at least long enough for Nicole to get her chance, though, because why else would Donna Summer be in the cast.

— Of course, the real stars of DEAR LORD IT’S DISCO are the songs: “After Dark” by Pattie Brooks, “Find My Way” and “It’s Serious” by Cameo, “Let’s Make a Deal” by G.C. Cameron & Syreeta, “Brickhouse” “Easy” and “Too Hot ta Trot” by the Commodores, “Romeo & Juliet” by Alec Constandinos, “You’re the Reason I Feel Like Dancing” by the 5th Dimension, “From Here to Eternity” by Giorgio Moroder, “Dance All Night” by Cuba Gooding, “Love Masterpiece” and “I’m Here Again” by Thelma Houston, “Disco Queen” and “Trapped in a Stairway” by Paul Jabara, “Do You Want the Real Thing” by D.C. LaRue, “Thank God It’s Friday” and “You Are the Most Precious Thing in My Life” by Love & Kisses, “I Wanna Dance” by Marathon, “Meco’s Theme” by Meco, “Floyd’s Theme” by Natural Juices, “Down to Lovetown” by the Originals, “Lovin, Livin’, and Givin’” by Diana Ross, “Sevilla Nights” by Santa Esmeralda, “Love to Love You Baby,” “With Your Love,” “Je T’aime (Moi Non Plus)” and “Last Dance” by Summer, “Take It to the Zoo” by Sunshine, “In Hollywood” and “I Am What I Am” by the Village People, and “Leatherman’s Theme” by Wright Brothers Flying Machine. This list should have been used to filibuster more than 40 years ago, but disco would seem to be outside the life experience of anybody in Congress then, now or tomorrow.

Nearly all those songs are from Casablanca Records, whose film division produced BLESS THE HIT SOUNDTRACK, and let’s just say the songs are far more memorable than any character. This is the case of a soundtrack in search of a movie.

Summer’s “Last Dance,” in fact, won Best Original Song at the 1979 Academy Awards, beating out “Hopelessly Devoted to You” from GREASE, “The Last Time I Felt Like This” from SAME TIME, NEXT YEAR, “Ready to Take a Chance Again” from FOUL PLAY, and “When You’re Loved” from THE MAGIC OF LASSIE. Not exactly the most inspired songs.

— It’s kinda sorta interesting to see Goldblum, Winger, and Nunn (future Berlin lead singer who earned an Academy Award for Best Original Song for “Take My Breath Away”) in the early stages of their careers, but really not all that interesting. A great title and a good soundtrack do not always make for a good movie. Exhibit A: THANK GOD IT’S FRIDAY.

Kiss Me Deadly (1955)

 

KISS ME DEADLY (1955) ****

Sometimes, it seems that like no author ever liked any film adaptation of their work. It feels that way every time I read up on a film based on a novel.

For example, British novelist Roald Dahl (1916-90) hated WILLY WONKA & THE CHOCOLATE FACTORY, though he’s credited for writing the screenplay. David Seltzer rewrote Dahl’s original script and the original author hated the changes like a different ending and the addition of musical numbers. The choice of Gene Wilder to play Willy Wonka also did not jibe with Dahl.

Stephen King famously hates Stanley Kubrick’s adaptation of THE SHINING. “I have a real problem with THE SHINING and Stanley Kubrick knew that I had a real problem with THE SHINING. I had a discussion with him beforehand. He said, ‘Stephen, Stanley Kubrick here, don’t you agree that all stories of ghosts are fundamentally optimistic?’ I said, ‘What do you mean?’ and he said ‘Well if there are ghosts it means we survive death and that’s fundamentally an optimistic view, isn’t it?’ I said, ‘Mr. Kubrick, what about Hell?’ and there’s a long pause on the telephone line and then he said in a very stiff and a very different voice, ‘I don’t believe in Hell.’ I said to myself, ‘Well, that’s fine, but some of us do and some of us believe that ghosts may survive and that may be Hell.’” King called THE SHINING “a cold film” with “striking images” and compared it to a “beautiful car that had no engine.”

Now, we get to the classic 1955 apocalyptic film noir KISS ME DEADLY directed by Robert Aldrich (1918-83) and written by screenwriter A.I. Bezzerides (1908-2007) and an uncredited Aldrich from Mickey Spillane’s 1952 novel.

Spillane (1918-2006), of course, did not find the film adaptation of his novel to be “classic.” Apparently, Bezzerides felt the same about the source material.

“I was given the Spillane book and I said, ‘This is lousy. Let me see what I can do.’ So I went to work on it. I wrote it fast because I had contempt for it. … I tell you Spillane didn’t like what I did with his book. I ran into him at a restaurant and, boy, he didn’t like me.”

Why not?

Bezzerides added espionage and the infamous nuclear suitcase (“The great whatsit”), plot details not in Spillane’s novel. On top of that, Bezzerides made detective protagonist Mike Hammer a narcissistic bully of a very high degree of creep. Hammer, played by Ralph Meeker, pushes anti-hero to its most extreme limits. For whatever reason, Nazareth’s “Hair of the Dog” comes to mind, mainly that “Now you’re messin’ with a son of a bitch” chorus.

The appropriately named Hammer makes his living (predominantly) by blackmailing adulterous husbands and wives and he’s appropriately named Hammer because he’s always dropping the hammer on somebody in his way. Assorted thugs and sordid contacts, of course, but also a coroner not wanting to part with a key and a clerk not wanting to cooperate because Hammer’s not a member. Hammer’s friends and associates also pay dearly for their association with the detective.

I love Bezzerides’ dialogue.

One thug waxes poetic, “Dames are worse than flies.”

That’s as great as “I don’t pray. Kneeling bags my nylons” from Billy Wilder’s ACE IN THE HOLE and Harry Lime’s “cuckoo clock” speech from Carol Reed’s THE THIRD MAN.

KISS ME DEADLY prepares us for what lies ahead from its very first scene and then its opening credits, both stating that it will be a film like none other. What’s that old Cole Porter song? Yes, “Anything Goes.”

First scene: A frightened young woman. Dressed only in a trench coat, and she’s also in her bare feet. She’s flagging a ride as the motor cars zip past on a highway. She’s desperate, so desperate that she finally places herself in front of the path of one of the zipping cars. That car just happens to be driven by none other than Hammer. His first line, “You almost wrecked my car! Well? Get in!”

Opening credits: They scroll backwards. All the while, we hear the cries of the frightened young woman (Cloris Leachman).

Christina Bailey, the frightened young woman, tells Hammer, “Get me to that bus stop and forget you ever saw me. If we don’t make it to the bus stop. … If we don’t, remember me.” Needless to say, Miss Bailey does not make it to the bus stop and Hammer (and by extension, we) go down the proverbial rabbit hole. All roads lead to the atomic suitcase and one helluva explosive finale.

Every film noir seems to have at least one femme fatale and KISS ME DEADLY gives us Lily Carver (Gaby Rodgers), who’s compared to Pandora and Lot by one character she guns down late in the picture. She then greets Hammer, “Kiss me, Mike. I want you to kiss me. Kiss me. The liar’s kiss that says I love you, and means something else.” She unloads on Hammer, too.

Yes, she’s arguably the most fatal of any femme.

From her profile on “The Female Villains Wiki,” “Lily often has the manner of a slightly flaky adolescent, which doesn’t seem to be all assumed for the deceptive role she’s playing in the early scenes. When her true identity and character are later revealed, it’s clear she’s one of the most black hearted, deadly female villains ever put on screen. … She kills people easily, with no ethical concerns whatever evident. She smirks after she’s done it. In the last scene in which she appears, we see she’s more than just a greedy, callous killer, very pleased with herself, she’s also a sadist.”

Lily meets her maker in one of the great cinematic deaths. There’s a shot during the apocalyptic ending in RAIDERS OF THE LOST ARK that’s a dead ringer for one in KISS ME DEADLY. Gotta love that Spielberg.

In the alternate ending, the one that was seen for many years, even Hammer goes down in flames. Nihilism and its variants have been used to describe KISS ME DEADLY many times, 639,000 in fact according to Google.

Aldrich later directed WHAT EVER HAPPENED TO BABY JANE?, THE DIRTY DOZEN, and THE LONGEST YARD, but he already outdid himself with KISS ME DEADLY.

All we need to know is that the Kefauver Commission named KISS ME DEADLY as 1955’s No. 1 menace to American youth. That would have included an 8-year-old Steven Spielberg and look how he turned out.

Fiend Without a Face (1958)

FIEND WITHOUT A FACE

FIEND WITHOUT A FACE (1958) ****

The 1958 British independent horror production FIEND WITHOUT A FACE contains everything this science fiction and horror fiend wants from a film of that era: a square but likeable hero (Marshall Thompson), a shapely heroine (Kim Parker), a mad scientist (Kynaston Reeves), townspeople who blame everything on the wrong people, atomic fallout, and horrible, terrifying stop motion animation monsters (created by the special effects team of Flo Nordhoff and Karl-Ludwig Ruppel) that are loads of fun.

It also has an evocative title.

The final 20 minutes or so of FIEND WITHOUT A FACE are phenomenal and push this film into the stratosphere.

The fiends of the title are floating killer brains who started as one brain materialized from the thoughts of Professor R.E. Walgate, a man who specializes in telekinesis. The nearby airbase’s nuclear power radar experiments have dire consequences and the original fiend escapes from Walgate’s lab and wreaks murder and mayhem on the surrounding community. The fiends replicate themselves through attacks on humans (looting their brains and spinal cords) and they remain invisible until the final 20 or so minutes after they crank up the nuclear power to DANGER! They must be stopped!

These fiends are one helluva brainstorm, literally. They have antennae and tentacles, and one can see their influence on later creature features creatures. (The ALIEN films leap to mind. George Romero must have watched at least the last 20 minutes of FIEND WITHOUT A FACE before he made the first NIGHT OF THE LIVING DEAD.)

When the fiends are shot in the brain (love that concept), they naturally gush out this great-looking brain glop and I honestly wish these death scenes lasted another 20 minutes. They are so much fun, and it’s just as great when our hero breaks out an axe. The fiends (love that word) finally turn into goo after our hero blows up their great power source real good.

When the fiends are in their invisible stage, we hear slurping sounds when they strike their victims’ brains and spinal cords. Awesome, totally awesome, because it’s not happening to us, of course.

Credited director Arthur Crabtree (reports have it that star Thompson worked on the film himself after Crabtree walked off the picture because directing sci-fi proved to be too much for his fragile little mind) and his team did a fantastic job with the fiends when they’re invisible or visible. FIEND WITHOUT A FACE pulls off the nifty little trick of building up high audience expectations toward a great final act, then it delivers the goods and maybe even exceeds expectations during that final act.

Believe it or not, FIEND WITHOUT A FACE apparently caused quite a storm of controversy when it was first released in early July 1958. The British Board of Film Censors demanded cuts be made before it would be certified for release and the picture still received an ‘X.’ It’s lucky to not have met the same fate as banned-for-many-years pictures like BATTLESHIP POTEMKIN (1926-54), FREAKS (1932-63), and ISLAND OF LOST SOULS (1932-58), for example.

Legend even has it that British Parliament discussed why the censors allowed FIEND WITHOUT A FACE to be released.

Over time, I’ve come to realize that I love 1950s horror and sci-fi: THE DAY THE EARTH STOOD STILL, THE THING FROM ANOTHER WORLD, HOUSE OF WAX, GODZILLA, THEM!, CREATURE FROM THE BLACK LAGOON, INVASION OF THE BODY SNATCHERS, THE INCREDIBLE SHRINKING MAN, ATTACK OF THE CRAB MONSTERS, FIEND, THE H-MAN, THE BLOB, THE FLY, HORROR OF DRACULA, PLAN 9 FROM OUTER SPACE, BUCKET OF BLOOD, and THE KILLER SHREWS all have made personal top 10 lists for their respective years and the decade also featured at least five of Hitchcock’s best works (STRANGERS ON A TRAIN, REAR WINDOW, THE WRONG MAN, VERTIGO, NORTH BY NORTHWEST) and other films that are horrifying in their own distinct ways, like film noir KISS ME DEADLY and war film FIRES ON THE PLAIN.

The Mighty Peking Man (1977)

THE MIGHTY PEKING MAN

THE MIGHTY PEKING MAN (1977) ***

The Shaw Brothers (Runme 1901-85 and Run Run 1907-2014) have rarely ever let me down and they provided some of the greatest entertainments of all-time, like THE ONE-ARMED SWORDSMAN, FIVE FINGERS OF DEATH, INFRA-MAN, THE 36TH CHAMBER OF SHAOLIN, and CLAN OF THE WHITE LOTUS.

The Shaw Brothers did not (and still do not, in death) cheat us.

For example, in THE MIGHTY PEKING MAN, their 1977 spin on King Kong, Mighty Joe Young, and Tarzan (not to mention Godzilla) that’s not quite peak but still good Shaw Brothers, we don’t have to wait very long whatsoever to see the title character. No, life is short, time is precious, so director Ho Meng-hua gives us our first monster encounter in the first minute of screen time. Okay, to be exact, it’s 1:45 into the movie, but that still beats most every other entry in this distinguished genre.

That establishes a tone for a very generous entertainment package. Find a copy and buy it for somebody, and it’s the gift that keeps on giving.

THE MIGHTY PEKING MAN not only provides a sympathetic monster in the grand tradition, but also (in no particular order) a plucky explorer hero (Danny Lee) who’s been betrayed by his lover with his playboy brother so he’s drowning his sorrows in booze when he’s recruited for a jungle mission, a scantily-clad leading lady (Evelyne Kraft, a regular Swedish Fay Wray) who’s grown up with the animals in the jungle after her parents died in a plane crash (she’s been raised by the Mighty Peking Man, in fact), an earthquake, elephants, tigers and leopards (oh my!), a fight between a leopard and a snake, quicksand, vine swinging, flashbacks to key moments in both the hero’s and the leading lady’s life, callous and shady businessmen, heartless authority figures, mucho destruction of miniatures galore, and a grand finale that boggles the mind even after everything that came before.

My favorite scene, however, begins around the 33-minute mark.

It involves the Semi-Obligatory Lyrical Interlude, a term made famous by the late Roger Ebert. Here’s the definition from Ebert: “Scene in which soft focus and slow motion are used while a would-be hit song is performed on the sound track and the lovers run through a pastoral setting. Common from the mid-1960s to the mid-1970s; replaced in 1980s with the Semi-Obligatory Music Video.”

The Simon and Garfunkel songs in THE GRADUATE epitomize the Semi-OLI.

The one in THE MIGHTY PEKING MAN rates below Louis Armstrong singing “We Have All the Time in the World” over George Lazenby and Diane Rigg in ON HER MAJESTY’S SECRET SERVICE and the foreboding use of Roberta Flack’s “The First Time Ever I Saw Your Face” in Clint Eastwood’s PLAY MISTY FOR ME. Ebert himself said Eastwood filmed the first Semi-OLI that works.

In THE MIGHTY PEKING MAN, our hero and leading lady embrace and lock lips for the first time (watch her eyes after this first kiss) and they unleash the awesomely banal love song “Could It Be I’m in Love, Maybe.”

This is one helluva old-fashioned love song and one helluva Semi-OLI.

I mean, I believe it’s the only Semi-OLI in the history of motion pictures to incorporate a leopard.

Not only that, but the leading lady seems more interested in the leopard than our poor, poor hero. You really sympathize for this guy even more after this scene.

Let’s get back to those lyrics for a second here.

“The love you gave me then showed me a thing or two / I guess I saw it in your eyes / And the look of love upon your face is too hard to disguise / Maybe just a smile will say [cannot make out, even after watching this scene 500 times] / Could it be I’m in love (Maybe? Baby?)” (To hell with it, I already chose “Maybe.” Why does life have to be so difficult?)

“I can’t begin to say what makes me feel like this / I never knew what love could do / But if this is love, it’s here to stay / [Don’t want to make this part out] / So all I have to hear is I’ll give it all to you.”

There’s more lyrics, but we all catch the drift and there’s not any need to drown in banality.

It all totals about 3:30 of pure junk food cinema bliss.

I definitely love it because it’s so utterly ridiculous.

Then again, utterly ridiculous describes THE MIGHTY PEKING MAN.

I should end this review with a consideration of the ending of THE MIGHTY PEKING MAN. Just imagine the ending of KING KONG times 10 times 10.

Fat City (1972)

FAT CITY

FAT CITY (1972) ****

I would not be surprised if writer and director John Huston (1906-87) had the nickname “The Great Adapter.”

Huston directed 37 feature films from 1941 through 1987 and his films adapted from works by Dashiell Hammett, Ellen Glasgow, Robert Carson, B. Traven, Maxwell Anderson, Robert Sylvester, W.R. Burnett, Stephen Crane, C.S. Forester, Pierre LaMure, Claud Cockburn, Herman Melville, Charles Shaw, Romain Gary, Alan LeMay, Philip McDonald, Tennessee Williams, the Book of Genesis, Carson McCullers, Ian Fleming, David Haggart, Hans Koningsberger, Noel Behn, Leonard Gardner, Desmond Bagley, Rudyard Kipling, Flannery O’Conner, Zoltan Fabri, Harold Gray, Malcolm Lowry, Richard Condon, and James Joyce.

Huston co-wrote some of those adaptations, but it was Gardner himself who adapted his own novel, “Fat City,” for the big screen.

In a 2019 interview with the Paris Review, celebrating the 50th anniversary of his novel, Gardner spoke about Huston and the film adaptation.

“Before I started to write it (the screenplay), he invited me to come over to his place in Ireland for a couple of weeks for a discussion about how it was going to go,” Gardner said. “He was a funny guy. He trusted me, I think, because we didn’t talk all day about the script. We talked maybe a half an hour. Then he wanted to paint. He was always painting.

“He’d been an amateur boxer. It was lucky because my objection to boxing movies back then was that they were all the same. It’s a fixed fight and the hero won’t take a dive and maybe they break his hands afterward. I thought there needed to be a boxing film done another way. He was all for it.”

FAT CITY set itself within the city of Stockton, California, population over 100,000 at the time of the making of the film. The scenes are played out in skid row bars, restaurants and living spaces, work on a migrant labor farm, bowling alleys, a boxing gym, and boxing venues in a gritty, street-level fashion. Huston and Gardner definitely created a boxing film that’s done another way.

Stockton, now with a population above 300,000, received a dubious recognition from Forbes Magazine in 2012: “The Most Miserable City in the U.S.”

“I think that this is such a rough place that people who are highly educated use it as a springboard to get jobs in other places, and what it leaves behind is not the cream of the crop. The really smart people don’t want to stay here. They don’t want to be here with the violence and the crime and everything,” said substitute teacher Ronald Schwartz in a story for PBS News Hour.

So things only seemed to get worse in Stockton since 1972.

Creedence Clearwater Revival released the song “Lodi” as the B-side to “Bad Moon Rising,” the lead single from their third album “Green River,” in April 1969. Farrar, Straus & Giroux published “Fat City” in 1969.

Lodi is approximately 15-20 miles north of Stockton.

Creedence songwriter John Fogerty has said that he picked Lodi because it had the coolest-sounding name. The song’s refrain “Oh Lord, stuck in Lodi again” has truly stuck with Lodi for more than 50 years, unfairly or not.

FAT CITY utilizes Kris Kristofferson’s “Help Me Make It Through the Night” and the lyrics and the way Kristofferson sings them suit FAT CITY perfectly. Kristofferson said that he got his inspiration for the song from an interview with Frank Sinatra, who said “Booze, broads, or a bible … whatever helps me make it through the night.”

Any of the characters in FAT CITY could have said that.

We follow two boxers in FAT CITY: 29-year-old Billy Tully (Stacy Keach) and 18-year-old Ernie Munger (Jeff Bridges). Tully meets Ernie in a Stockton gym, sees potential in the young man after they spar, and encourages him to get into the fight game. Tully recommends manager and trainer Ruben (the great character actor Nicholas Colasanto).

Keach and Bridges play off or against each other perfectly. Bridges, in his early 20s and on his fifth feature overall, fits the part of a promising up-and-coming talent like a glove; Bridges had already received an Academy Award nomination for Best Supporting Actor for his performance in THE LAST PICTURE SHOW. Keach’s own struggles to get a part like Billy Tully infuses his characterization of a washed-up boxer clawing and scratching (and drinking) his way through life; for example, Mike Nichols fired Keach from CATCH-22 a week into rehearsals. Keach’s propensity for overacting and Bridges’ for underacting factored in.

“FAT CITY is a good film,” Keach said in Dennis Brown’s “Actors Talk: Profiles and Stories from the Acting Trade,” “but 20 minutes were cut. Twenty minutes longer, FAT CITY is a great film, a classic. Unfortunately, 20 minutes longer made it 20 minutes more depressing.”

A theory: All good films are not depressing and all bad films are.

Boxing takes Ernie away from the pressures of a young wife (Candy Clark) and the start of a nuclear family. Tully, a shell of himself since his wife left him and since his defeat in the ring in Panama City, takes up with Oma (Susan Tyrrell), a character described as a “woozy boozy floozy” in the New York Times. Booze initially lubricates their relationship, of course, but it fizzles out spectacularly down the home stretch.

Tully tells Oma “You can count on me!” so many times that you wonder if he’s attempting to get himself to believe that more than even this woman.

Phantom of the Paradise (1974)

PHANTOM OF THE PARADISE

PHANTOM OF THE PARADISE (1974) **

Brian De Palma’s PHANTOM OF THE PARADISE, a great big flop during its original release, is another cult film where I have to say, “I am glad you love this movie, but I don’t.” Big deal, it happens both ways on a regular basis.

It’s also one of those movies where I liked it less and less the more it was on, until I simply just wanted it to be over.

PHANTOM OF THE PARADISE gets called a “rock opera” and compared with THE ROCKY HORROR PICTURE SHOW, which came out about one year later.

Now, we’re getting to the heart of the problem. Both PHANTOM OF THE PARADISE and ROCKY HORROR are limp-wristed rock if they are in fact rock at all. Paul Williams, the songwriter and star of PHANTOM, he’s best known for writing Three Dog Night’s “An Old Fashioned Love Song,” the Carpenters’ “Rainy Days and Mondays,” Barbra Streisand’s “Evergreen” from A STAR IS BORN, and Kermit the Frog’s “Rainbow Connection” from THE MUPPET MOVIE. Not exactly the most rocking credentials.

Singer-songwriter and show tunes, with a little Sha Na Na and Meatloaf thrown in for extra measure, are not my idea of rock and that’s what PHANTOM and ROCKY HORROR offer listeners and viewers.

I already wrote a review comparing ROCKY HORROR against ROCK ‘N’ ROLL HIGH SCHOOL, a 1979 film that centers around the music of the Ramones.

This whole rock opera angle initiated my brilliantly engineered mind to recall Ken Russell’s TOMMY from 1975, another musical contemporaneous with both PHANTOM and ROCKY HORROR that’s far more deserving of being called a “rock opera.” That’s definitely true, because at one time The Who — the band responsible for the music for both the 1969 album and 1975 movie — owned the rights on “loudest rock band in the world.” They lived rock, long before they wrote a song like “Long Live Rock,” “Be it dead or alive.”

Russell, who’s every bit as good as De Palma at capturing wretched excess on celluloid, gives us non-singers Oliver Reed and Jack Nicholson, natural born entertainers Ann-Margret and Tina Turner, a Marilyn Monroe-themed cult led by “The Preacher” (Eric Clapton), and Elton John’s centerpiece “Pinball Wizard” number, taking advantage of a $5 million budget. Hell to the yes, I love me some pinball and Sir Elton’s melodramatic demise. Never mind what Ann-Margret does with champagne, beans, chocolates, and bubbles. What’s that Beach Boys line about excitation?

PHANTOM OF THE PARADISE (reportedly made for $1.3 million) takes on classic novels “Phantom of the Opera,” “The Picture of Dorian Gray,” and “Faust.” It also predates the Black Sabbath compilation album “We Sold Our Soul for Rock ‘N’ Roll.”

I prefer the 1925 silent PHANTOM OF THE OPERA because of Lon Chaney’s brilliant performance (his 1974 counterpart William Finley gives the best performance in the movie), the fact that melodrama works better in silent rather than sound films, and the fact that we do not hear the opera music. Yeah, that’s right, I do not particularly care for opera, rock or not. PHANTOM OF THE PARADISE does not rock enough.

I would have greatly preferred Robert Johnson’s music over Paul Williams’ tunes. Here I am and I can’t remember any of Williams’ songs from the film. Not a good sign.

I would not be surprised, though, to find out that Dario Argento cast Jessica Harper in SUSPIRIA (1977) because of her performance in PHANTOM OF THE PARADISE.

I’ll take SUSPIRIA.

TOMMY (1975) ***

TOMMY

Message from Space (1978)

MESSAGE FROM SPACE

MESSAGE FROM SPACE (1978) *

It took two tries to make it all the way through Kinji Fukasaku’s MESSAGE FROM SPACE, one of the first of many STAR WARS rip-offs that only make you appreciate more what George Lucas and gang did in their movies.

How does MESSAGE FROM SPACE rip off STAR WARS? Let us count the ways. A soap, er, space opera, characters named Meia and Hans, a robot, interplanetary strife and destruction, aerial dogfights in space, laser beams, and a musical score by Kenichiro Morioka that should have been enough for grounds for a lawsuit from 20th Century Fox, John Williams, and the London Symphony Orchestra.

I struggled through MESSAGE FROM SPACE and it was a real cinematic endurance contest to get through its 105 minutes. I only made it through about 30 minutes the first try.

At one point in time, I thought about cutting MESSAGE FROM SPACE a little slack for its often lousy special effects, until I read that MESSAGE FROM SPACE cost $5-6 million. Okay, that’s about half of what 20th Century Fox spent on STAR WARS the previous year, but the budget for MESSAGE FROM SPACE apparently established a record (long since broken, of course) for largest budget for a Japanese movie. There went the slack, she be gone.

Vic Morrow (1929-82) sadly found himself at that stage in his career when he appeared in awful movies like HUMANOIDS FROM THE DEEP, GREAT WHITE, and MESSAGE FROM SPACE. Work is work is work, right? In MESSAGE FROM SPACE, Morrow plays a character named General Garuda and receives top billing in the cast above Sonny Chiba. Garuda Indonesia is the airline of Indonesia. Morrow seems to be drinking in every scene and if you had to act with an imitation R2-D2 named Beba, you’d be a full-blown alcoholic too.

This is one of those films not exactly helped out by a bad dubbing job.

I am normally one equipped with more empathy and enthusiasm than the average cinematic pleasure seeker for movies like MESSAGE FROM SPACE. I mean, for crying out loud, I have given four stars to INFRA-MAN, DRUNKEN MASTER, and PLAN 9 FROM OUTER SPACE, three incredibly ridiculous movies that immediately came to mind.

I just found scant pleasure to be experienced from MESSAGE FROM SPACE.

Hard to believe, right, when MESSAGE FROM SPACE features eight Liabe seeds. They resemble walnuts, glowing, magical walnuts that are the unifying plot device; bet Nuts.com would do killer business with a MESSAGE FROM SPACE remake. Rather than The Force, MESSAGE FROM SPACE only manages doze nuts. Bad joke, I know right, but the bad movie made me do it. I promise, I promise, I would never write anything like that otherwise.