Invasion U.S.A. (1985)

INVASION U.S.A. (1985) *
Joseph Zito made a logical progression from directing mad slasher films The Prowler and The Final Chapter (Jason Voorhees’ third screen entry) to Chuck Norris action spectaculars Missing in Action and Invasion U.S.A for the Cannon Films Group, one of the ultimate purveyors of schlock all through the ’80s.

Their schlock includes Ninja III: The Domination and Breakin’ 2: Electric Boogaloo, both from 1984 and directed by Sam Firstenberg.

Anyway, I digress, which is something that I will invariably do whenever discussing Invasion U.S.A. Yes, I admit upfront this review will be filled with digressions.

The plot: Multinationals with guns (sometimes with subtitles, sometimes without) invade the United States, actually Florida but Invasion Florida doesn’t quite ring the same liberty bell, and one-man army Chuck Norris stops them with bloody ballyhoo. Named Matt Hunter in a fit of poetic fancy, perhaps by one of the writers of this garbage, Norris could have killed ’em all with denim.

Basically, Invasion U.S.A is Red Dawn dumbed down even more and it substitutes teeny bopper Commie scum killers Patrick Swayze, Charlie Sheen, C. Thomas Howell, Jennifer Grey, and Lea Thompson for Norris, who laughably tells us that he works alone. No joke, we know this after ’bout 50 Norris films where his character informs us that he kills scumbags all on his lonesome. I mean, wasn’t one of Norris’ better movies even called Lone Wolf McQuade for crying out loud?

The best Norris pictures have strong supporting characters and casts, who make up for the sometimes personality deficient Norris. Alas, Invasion U.S.A gives us one of the worst characters in not only a Norris movie but all movies in general — an apparent photojournalist named McGuire (Melissa Prophet) who probably should have been named Molly Magsnarl instead. She’s not the least bit grateful for Hunter saving her, and I would have let her meet her ultimate demise after the first time she snarls at me Cowboy. She blows out the tires on Invasion U.S.A every time she’s on screen.

Seeing her camera made me laugh, though, because I thought about how it was John Rambo’s assignment to only take photos of the POWs — not to rescue them — in Rambo: First Blood Part 2.

Speaking of First Blood Part 2, released a few months before Invasion U.S.A, it and Arnold Schwarzenegger’s Commando (released just after Invasion U.S.A) both blow away Invasion U.S.A in the great 1985 One-Man Army Movie Sweepstakes.

I also found a worse movie than Star Trek V: The Final Frontier that includes characters singing Row, Row, Row Your Boat.

Chopping Mall (1986)

CHOPPING MALL (1986) ***1/2

Jim Wynorski’s CHOPPING MALL has just about everything anybody would ever want from a mid-80s horror film.

— An iconic shopping mall shooting location.

— Three killer robots who shoot real frickin’ laser beams. By the way, these kill-bots could eat Paul Blart for breakfast, lunch, dinner, and three desserts, plus in-between snacks.

— Big hair and big boobs.

— A Barbara Crampton topless scene that rates below RE-ANIMATOR and FROM BEYOND. Still, though, it’s topless Barbara Crampton.

— Other familiar teeny bopper horror movie bods and faces.

— The great character actor Dick Miller playing a character named Walter Paisley (his character’s name from BUCKET OF BLOOD).

— A Corman Factory production with posters from previous cult classics (including one directed by Wynorski, his debut film LOST EMPIRE) and clips from Roger Corman’s 1957 epic ATTACK OF THE CRAB MONSTERS.

— Cameos from Corman favorites Paul Bartel and Mary Woronov playing their characters from EATING RAOUL.

— Outdated special effects that were outdated even before the movie’s release. However, that’s all part of their charm.

— Gore galore highlighted by a gnarly head explosion.

— A plot that plays like a fast and loose combination of FAST TIMES AT RIDGEMONT HIGH, FRIDAY THE 13TH, and THE TERMINATOR.

CHOPPING MALL does not muck around, giving us our first killer robot scene right from the start and hey, let’s face it, it breezes past in 76 minutes. For crying out loud, that’s a running time straight from an earlier time in cinematic history. That not mucking around quality is one of the most admirable traits of CHOPPING MALL, that and its desire to give the people what they want in terms of meeting and exceeding the demands of an exploitation film.

It has a basic plot: Three security robots go haywire after a lightning storm, turn rogue and run amok in Park Plaza Mall, actually the Sherman Oaks Galleria in the Sherman Oaks neighborhood in Los Angeles. The galleria, on the corner of Ventura and Sepulveda Boulevards, has been given credit for inspiring the Frank and Moon Unit Zappa satirical hit single “Valley Girl” and FAST TIMES and COMMANDO famously utilized the location.

Of course, with this genre and location, we have four teenage couples who stay after hours to frolic and fool around inside a furniture store, naturally and predominantly hot and horny couples who make up the majority of our body count. That contributes the FRIDAY THE 13TH element, and the presence of Russell Todd aids and abets that mental connection. Todd played Scott in FRIDAY THE 13TH PART 2, a real smug horny bastard adept with a slingshot. Not that did him any bit of damn good against burlap sack Jason Voorhees.

CHOPPING MALL has a good cast and Kelli Maroney and Alan O’Dell make for appealing, likeable female and male leads, especially Maroney. With her big hair, her struggles working in a restaurant, her spunky attitude, and her way around weaponry, Maroney’s Alison Parks feels very reminiscent of Sarah Conner (Linda Hamilton) from the first TERMINATOR.

What I especially like about the teenagers in CHOPPING MALL is that they load up on guns (echoes of DAWN OF THE DEAD) almost immediately after discovering the killer robots. They are far more proactive than the average horror movie teenager, and that helps separate CHOPPING MALL from the pack of run-of-the-mill exploitation films.

File CHOPPING MALL right alongside cult classics from that moment in time like RE-ANIMATOR, FROM BEYOND, and NIGHT OF THE CREEPS.

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.

The Warriors (1979)

THE WARRIORS

THE WARRIORS (1979) Three-and-a-half stars

David Patrick Kelly belongs in the Actors Who We Love to Hate Hall of Fame, right alongside such performers as Thomas F. Wilson (for his work as 1955 Biff, 1985 Biff, alternate 1985 Biff, 2015 Biff, Griff, and Buford “Mad Dog” Tannen in the BACK TO THE FUTURE trilogy) and Michael Moriarty (Q: THE WINGED SERPENT).

You might remember Kelly from COMMANDO as Sully, the creep who John Matrix promised to kill last because, you know, Matrix liked Sully … well, Matrix lied and Sully took a great fall. Or maybe DREAMSCAPE starring Dennis Quaid and Kate Capshaw, where the name of Kelly’s would-be presidential assassin, Tommy Ray Glatman, suggests Lee Harvey Oswald, John Wilkes Booth, and James Earl Ray.

Kelly made his motion picture debut as Luther in Walter Hill’s 1979 cult classic THE WARRIORS and Kelly plays a great creep right straight out of the box. Hill later cast Kelly as (a different) Luther in 48 HOURS.

Luther assassinates charismatic, visionary street gang leader Cyrus (Roger Hill) in an early scene and the Warriors from Coney Island are framed as the assassins. The police and every street gang in New York City want them Warriors bad, real bad. The Warriors’ long, harrowing journey back home makes up the vast majority of the movie.

Kelly delivers the goods in every scene that he’s in.

Swan (Michael Beck), the leader of the Warriors, and Luther, the leader of the Rogues, are finally face-to-face late in the picture. Thankfully, because everything’s been leading up toward showdown, Swan asks Luther the burning question we’ve been wanting to ask him ourselves, you know, why’d you do it, why’d you waste Cyrus? In an answer that makes THE WILD ONE proud, Luther says, “No reason. I just … like doing things like that!”

Just a few minutes earlier, Kelly begat the world the famous “Warriors, come out to play,” made famous by the way he said it.

Kelly alone earns THE WARRIORS three stars.

THE WARRIORS is a chase movie, predominantly on foot, and a survival of the fittest movie. It’s one of those great entertainments where you can find deeper messages or merely just sit back and enjoy Hill’s ability to stage larger-than-life action scenes, the colorful characters, and the approximately 90-minute tour of large city street gangs.

In addition to our title characters, we have the Turnbull AC’s, the Orphans, the Baseball Furies (they naturally brandish baseball bats and Kiss-like face paint, combining two of Walter Hill’s two loves), the Lizzies, the Punks, the Rogues, the Riffs (Cyrus’ former gang), the Boppers, the Boyle Avenue Runners, the Electric Eliminators, the Gladiators, the Hi-Hats, the Hurricanes, the Jones Street Boys, the Moonrunners, the Panzers, the Saracens, the Satans Mothers, the Savage Huns, the Van Cortland Rangers, and there’s a whole slew of gangs listed in Hill’s original script.

These gangs have a meeting in the Bronx and that’s when Luther kills Cyrus. All hell breaks loose with our title characters, eight gang members, at the center of the mayhem. The Warriors have more than 20 miles to go from the Bronx to their Coney Island home. It takes about 2 hours via mass transit, so THE WARRIORS feels like it plays out in real time.

Another stylistic flourish in a film overflowing with them involves a female DJ (face of Lynne Thigpen, voice of Pat Floyd) who’s the voice of the street gangs. “All right now, for all you boppers out there in the big city, all you street people with an ear for the action, I’ve been asked to relay a request from the Gramercy Riffs. It’s a special for the Warriors, that real live bunch from Coney, and I do mean the Warriors. Here’s a hit with them in mind.” Her apology to the Warriors at the end comes in the form of Joe Walsh’s “In the City.”

Real-life violence, allegedly inspired by seeing THE WARRIORS itself, unfortunately soured the reaction to the film in early 1979. Tony Bill, who produced his own gang film (BOULEVARD NIGHTS) that was protested in early 1979, said in People Magazine, “It makes sense that a movie that basically glorifies violence would attract violence.” Co-screenwriter David Shaber said THE WARRIORS was Sesame Street compared to a Sam Peckinpah movie (like THE WILD BUNCH). Paramount VP Gordon Weaver said of the violence, “[It’s] the sort of thing that happens at rock concerts, high school basketball games and any place where diverse groups meet. It could have happened anywhere.”

Similar controversies unfortunately later swirled around such films as DO THE RIGHT THING, NEW JACK CITY, and BOYZ N THE HOOD.

The Delta Force (1986)

THE DELTA FORCE

THE DELTA FORCE (1986) Three stars

Watching THE DELTA FORCE for the first time in 30 years, it surprised me in three ways.

First, it accumulates a running time of 2 hours, 5 minutes.

Second, the heavy action does not kick in until about 1 hour, 15 minutes in.

Third, it’s more thoughtful than expected, given that it is a Golan-Globus production starring Chuck Norris and featuring a cast of many highlighted by hostages Martin Balsam, Joey Bishop, Lainie Kazan, George Kennedy, and Shelley Winters, actors who initially suggest the movie would quickly become AIRPORT ‘86.

About that running time, let’s see here, RAMBO: FIRST BLOOD PART II and COMMANDO, both from 1985, clock in at approximately 96 and 92 minutes, respectively. Then again, Norris’ previous cinematic crusade against terrorism, INVASION U.S.A., lasts 110 minutes.

Once the action does kick in, it kicks in real good in THE DELTA FORCE and it especially delivers the goods with shit blown up real good just like an old school action movie should. Of course, I hope the demolition experts were paid real good.

The action truly begins with a chase: Major Scott McCoy (Norris) and his Delta Force colleague are pursued by Lebanese terrorists through Beirut and one terrorist vehicle crashes into a poor defenseless fruit cart and melons fly everywhere. Ah, yes, this is one of the better fruit cart scenes in history because they used both slow motion and big melons. I say the bigger the melons, the better the fruit cart scene.

I have argued the best Chuck Norris movies are the ones with the best supporting casts and THE DELTA FORCE definitely upholds that argument. Other cast members include Robert Forster, Hanna Schygulla (it’s a long way from Rainer Werner Fassbinder melodramas to Chuck Norris action spectaculars), Susan Strasberg, Bo Svenson, and Robert Vaughn. The great Lee Marvin (1924-87) also plays a key role in his final movie performance. Of course, Marvin brings his association with THE DIRTY DOZEN.

This is Norris’ best supporting cast, though I still rate THE DELTA FORCE slightly below LONE WOLF MCQUADE and CODE OF SILENCE overall.

Palestine born Menahem Golan (1929-2014) wrote, produced, and directed the film, which takes an undeniable pro-Israeli, pro-Jewish position. Golan served in the Israeli Air Force as a young man, long before he and his younger cousin and business partner Yoram Globus attempted to conquer the international film market.

Call me a fool and slap me silly, but it seems that Golan paid a lot more attention and dedicated more craft to THE DELTA FORCE than the average run-of-the-mill Cannon production, like, for example, Norris’ other 1986 film, FIREWALKER. Granted, J. Lee Thompson directed that one, but it’s doubtful that Golan would have evinced any passion in a watered down third-rate Indiana Jones retread like he did for THE DELTA FORCE.

THE DELTA FORCE ripped its plot from the real-life hijacking of Trans World Airlines Flight 847 on June 14, 1985. There’s a real-life Delta Force who have engaged in Operation Eagle Claw, Operation Enduring Freedom, the Iraq War, Operation Inherent Resolve, and Operation Kayla Mueller, among many other specialized missions incorporating counter-terrorism, hostage rescue, and direct action.

THE DELTA FORCE began production in July 1985 and filming in September 1985. The shoot lasted until early November. The filming took place in predominantly Israel. THE DELTA FORCE opened February 14, 1986, 245 days after the hijacking.

We have about the same number of passengers and crew members in the movie as in real life, the same number of terrorists behind the hijacking, a purser based on flight service manager Uli Derickson, the singling out of the Jewish passengers and the Navy divers and the eventual murder of one of them, and a similar flight pattern.

In real life, though, diplomats brought about the release of the hostages, not the Delta Force. Of course, that’s not what anybody wants to see in an action movie. I mean, you don’t cast Chuck Norris and Lee Marvin for that.

THE DELTA FORCE can be a wish fulfillment fantasy particularly for those who feel the United States perpetually takes a soft position on international terrorism and that we should go right into the heart of the Middle East and “Kill all the A-rabs” once and forever. Never mind that all our prior and ongoing efforts in the Middle East have seemingly only compounded matters and created more terrorists. One just might be left to conclude the War on Terrorism will never end, just like the War on Drugs.

The Arab characters in THE DELTA FORCE, terrorists one and all, earned their place in Jack G. Shaheen’s book “Reel Bad Arabs: How Hollywood Vilifies a People.” Vincent Canby of the New York Times wrote, “[DELTA FORCE] will be the 1986 film all others will have to beat for sheer, unashamed, hilariously vulgar vaingloriousness.”

Subaru customized a motorcycle just for Norris’ late picture heroics. Gene Siskel wrote in his one-star review for the Chicago Tribune, “The action in Beirut is more appropriate for a bad James Bond film than for a subject that has been all too real lately. Norris gets off shooting rocket launchers from his specially built motorcycle, and we sit there stunned at the movie industry’s ability to make money off of any tragedy.”

Israeli filmmaker Rafi Bukai said that he hated films like THE DELTA FORCE because they do not show Arabs as human beings.

Veteran character actor Robert Forster (1941-2019) plays the main terrorist Abdul Rafai. Forster was born in Rochester, New York, to parents of Italian, English, and Irish descent. His father trained elephants for the Ringling Bros. and Barnum & Bailey Circus. File this casting alongside John Wayne as Genghis Khan in the 1956 THE CONQUEROR. Along this same line, how many ethnicities and nationalities have character actors like Alfred Molina and Armand Assante played over the years?

I give THE DELTA FORCE a positive review because I enjoy it as a big, dumb, and even stupid action movie and it is an effective time capsule piece with Golan-Globus, Cannon Films, Chuck Norris, Lee Marvin, and all those older character actors. Not because it is a sobering, thoughtful, and balanced consideration of Middle East politics and international terrorism. Thankfully, I have read several books just like that on those subjects.

Any Which Way You Can (1980)

ANY WHICH WAY YOU CAN

ANY WHICH WAY YOU CAN (1980) Three stars
If I believed in feeling any guilt whatsoever about feeling pleasure, I might call ANY WHICH WAY YOU CAN a guilty pleasure.

It’s another one of those sublimely ridiculous movie packages that I can’t help but not to like. I mean, it could play on a double bill with ROAD HOUSE.

We all have “guilty pleasures,” and they form one of the most rewarding experiences that we can have at the movies.

If you describe ANY WHICH WAY YOU CAN as a movie with a little bit of everything, that’s still selling it short. I mean, it’s not every day that you have Clint Eastwood in a comedic role, an orangutan named Clyde (played by Buddha and C.J., although there’s no screen credit) who steals every scene that he’s in, a concluding fight scene that can go head-to-head with the later ROCKY sequels and THEY LIVE, a buffoonish motorcycle gang, Ruth Gordon (1896-1985) in what can only be called the “Ruth Gordon” role, and a country song played seemingly every few seconds.

This is the only motion picture that starts with an Eastwood and Ray Charles duet on a little ditty over the opening credits named “Beers for You.”

Personally, I feel the movie could have used more Clyde scenes — more “Right Turn Clyde,” more flipping the bird, more smashing cars, et cetera — and fewer scenes between Eastwood and his real-life partner at the time Sondra Locke. Locke generally became the weak link in Eastwood’s films of the period, and both EVERY WHICH WAY BUT LOOSE and ANY WHICH WAY YOU CAN dramatically prove that as Eastwood demonstrates better chemistry with the orangutan than Locke.

Back to Clyde and Buddha and C.J. Buddha and C.J. assumed the Clyde role for the sequel since Manis — who alone played the role in EVERY WHICH WAY BUT LOOSE — apparently had grown too much between films. Manis returned to his act in Las Vegas.

Reports have it Buddha alone played the role in ANY WHICH WAY YOU CAN and C.J. came on in publicity because Buddha was caught stealing doughnuts on the set near the end of filming and he was brought back to his training facility and beaten for 20 minutes, according to the book “Visions of Caliban: On Chimpanzees and People” by Jane Goodall and Dale Peterson.

Buddha then died soon after of a cerebral hemorrhage.

C.J. went on to star in Bo Derek’s TARZAN THE APE MAN and a NBC sitcom named MR. SMITH.

Executive producer Ed Weinberger said of C.J. in the Washington Post, “It’s a Buddha-like presence. He has wisdom about him. You have to know the animal; I’m in love with him. I’d have him in my house any time.”

MR. SMITH lasted all of 13 episodes from Sept. 22 through Dec. 16 in 1983 and finished a dismal 95th in the Nielsens.

So much for a talking orangutan and who knows if Weinberger had C.J. over at his house after the show flopped big time.

I remember loving ANY WHICH WAY YOU CAN as a young child. It was an affinity for Clyde. He’s what I remembered about the movie for many years before I revisited it decades later.

Not every movie I loved in childhood holds up revisited in adulthood. For example, CANNONBALL RUN, an entertainment I found to be an endurance contest several years back. (For the record, I recently watched SMOKEY AND THE BANDIT, another childhood favorite, again and it held up. I enjoyed Burt Reynolds, Sally Field, Jerry Reed, and Jackie Gleason.)

ANY WHICH WAY YOU CAN is not quite at the same high level as COMMANDO, LONE WOLF McQUADE, and ROAD HOUSE.

That’s because it’s a little flabby with a running time of 1 hour, 56 minutes. Granted, that concluding fight scene between Eastwood and William Smith eats up a good 10 percent of a nearly two-hour experience.

LONE WOLF McQUADE and ROAD HOUSE do have similar run times, but fewer bad scenes than ANY WHICH WAY YOU CAN.

The great director Howard Hawks (1896-1977), born the same year as Ruth Gordon, said that a good movie is “three great scenes and no bad ones.” Not sure that he had movies like ANY WHICH WAY YOU CAN in mind, which does have three great scenes but also some bad ones.

ANY WHICH WAY YOU CAN, though, is one of those sequels better than the original.

Road House (1989)

ROAD HOUSE

ROAD HOUSE (1989) Three-and-a-half stars
This is the Patrick Swayze (1952-2009) movie that ate all his other movies. More like ripped all the other movies’ throats out. We are talking about ROAD HOUSE, after all.

You can weep to GHOST, you can boogie to DIRTY DANCING, and you can kill Commies to RED DAWN, that’s fine and dandy, whatever floats your boat and tickles your fancy, but ROAD HOUSE is the ultimate Swayze viewing experience, at least for this magnificent bastard.

It is Swayze in Testosterone Hyperdrive, or it should have been titled OVER THE TOP rather than Sylvester Stallone’s epic about child custody, arm wrestling, and truck driving.

“Dalton lives like a loner, fights like a professional. And loves like there’s no tomorrow.”

“The dancing’s over. Now it gets dirty.”

“Dalton’s the best bouncer in the business. His nights are filled with fast action, hot music and beautiful women. It’s a dirty job, but somebody’s got to do it.”

Three taglines for ROAD HOUSE that only hit at the surface of the epic sleaze within the film.

Swayze plays Dalton, who’s not only the world’s greatest bouncer, he’s got a degree in philosophy from NYU. At one point, Dalton shares his general bouncer philosophy to his bouncer troops at the Double Deuce, the world’s roughest bar and the pride of the fictional Jasper, Missouri. (Bet the film’s producers did not know there’s a real Jasper, Missouri.)

“All you have to do is follow three simple rules. 1) Never underestimate your opponent. Expect the unexpected. 2) Take it outside. Never start anything inside the bar unless it’s absolutely necessary. And 3) Be nice.”

I enjoy hearing these rules — every single time — just like in GREMLINS when inventor Rand Peltzer tells his son about his new pet Mogwai, “First of all, keep him out of the light, he hates bright light, especially sunlight, it’ll kill him. Second, don’t give him any water, not even to drink. But the most important rule, the rule you can never forget, no matter how much he cries, no matter how much he begs, never feed him after midnight.”

I enjoy hearing both the rules in GREMLINS and ROAD HOUSE because I know that rules are meant to be broken in the movies. The rules — and a whole lot more, namely bones and plate glass windows — are definitely broken in ROAD HOUSE.

ROAD HOUSE is the most quotable Swayze movie by far.

“Pain don’t hurt.”

“Prepare to die.”

“Nobody ever wins a fight.”

“A polar bear fell on me.”

“You’re too stupid to have a good time.”

“Calling me ‘sir’ is like putting an elevator in an outhouse, it don’t belong.”

“Elvis! Play something with balls!”

“I thought you’d be bigger.”

“I’ll get all the sleep I need when I’m dead.”

“I sure ain’t gonna show you my dick.”

Three lines that you might want to pass on: “I used to fuck guys like you in prison.” “I heard you had balls big enough to come in a dump truck.” “Whaddaya say we get nipple to nipple?”

Sam Elliott strolls into Jasper as Wade Garrett, Dalton’s mentor and friend who rates second best bouncer in the world. Garrett’s salty language would not pass muster with Elliott’s ‘The Stranger’ in THE BIG LEBOWSKI — The Stranger asked The Dude at one point, “Do you have to use so many cuss words?” The Dude replied “What the fuck are you talking about?”

ROAD HOUSE is a Western cast in bar room terms all the way down the line, from the hero to the old mentor to the businessman with an offer for the hero to come in and calm down a rowdy scene to the super villain to the henchmen to the leading lady to the watering hole to a guy named Red. Kelly Lynch plays “Doc,” Dalton’s love interest, and ROAD HOUSE might have showed its only restraint in not choosing “Kitty” for the character’s name. Doc’s real name is the film’s big twist.

Guess we should have expected ROAD HOUSE from a director named Rowdy Herrington.

It was destined to be, especially since Herrington adopted the correct approach: “I saw it as a cartoon,” he said. “Broader than life. Brighter than life.”

Epic bar fights. Live music from a real band. A monster truck. Bouncer philosophy. Boobs. Obligatory Swayze butt shot. All that eminently quotable dialogue, although it would be hard saying any of it if we met arch henchman Jimmy’s fate. By the way, Jimmy’s wardrobe approved by Chuck Norris from INVASION U.S.A. and Ramon Revilla from THE KILLING OF SATAN.

In the film’s bravura climax, we encounter super villain Brad Wesley’s trophy room. True story: Recently visiting the Wonders of Wildlife National Museum in Springfield, Missouri, it called to mind Wesley’s trophy room.

Roger Ebert (1942-2013) found this late scene the key to unlocking the film’s guiding spirit: “His hunting trophies include not only the usual deer and elk and antelopes, but also orangutans, llamas and a matched set of tropical monkeys. This guy went hunting in the zoo.

“We are expected to believe that the sadist financed these hunting expeditions by shaking down the businessmen in a town that, on the visible evidence, contains a bar, a general store, a Ford dealership and two residences. ROAD HOUSE is the kind of movie that leaves reality so far behind that you have to accept it on its own terms.”

That’s right. It’s so ridiculous, so cartoonish, so over-the-top that it becomes highly enjoyable, just like COMMANDO and LONE WOLF McQUADE.

There’s a lot (not a whole lot, though) more that I have to say about ROAD HOUSE, but that can wait for another time down at the Double Deuce.

Don’t worry, it’s cooled down considerably since 1989.

Three favorite character actors in ROAD HOUSE: Sunshine Parker, John Doe (rock musician), and Terry Funk (professional wrestler).

Commando (1985)

day 63, commando

COMMANDO (1985) Three-and-a-half stars
In some ways, COMMANDO is the ultimate comic book movie, although it’s merely based on a screenplay by Steven de Souza and a story by de Souza, Joseph Loeb III, and Matthew Weisman rather than something adapted from DC or Marvel.

It moves fast, thankfully so very, very fast because it keeps us from looking at logical mistakes, continuity errors, and the like. There’s a lot of them and we cruise right past them, because it’s onward and forward to the next bit of action. From the first scene, it’s nonstop action for 90 minutes, larger-than-life action with a larger-than-life hero who’s funnier than, for example, Howard the Duck.

Arnold Schwarzenegger made for a great villain in THE TERMINATOR and he made for a great comic book action hero in COMMANDO, a style that he would again utilize to great effect in PREDATOR and TOTAL RECALL. He’s the right size of personality and fighting style for John Matrix, and he’s believable in an unbelievable world that’s like a heightened macho take on terrorism in news reports.

Both the director Mark L. Lester and screenwriter de Souza are right at home with an exaggerated macho world. Lester directed THE CLASS OF 1984, the Punks vs. Teachers public school nightmare world epic from 1982 that should be required viewing for substitute teachers or anybody entering a public junior high or high school today for the first time. De Souza wrote screenplays for the first 48 HOURS and the first two DIE HARD pictures, so he proved himself at writing the mixture of action with comedy that worked for Schwarzenegger, Bruce Willis, and Eddie Murphy, especially Schwarzenegger, who seemed to have studied Clint Eastwood.

Just as Eastwood perfected reading lines like “Go ahead, make my day,” “Smith and Wesson … and me,” and “Why don’t you boys suck some fish heads, huh?” by the time of SUDDEN IMPACT, Schwarzenegger did the same in several of his films from THE TERMINATOR and PREDATOR to KINDERGARTEN COP and TERMINATOR 2. There’s a reason Schwarzenegger’s dialogue became the basis for soundboards. He just might be at his funniest on film throughout COMMANDO. (For the ultimate Schwarzenegger experience, try his 1983 “Arnold Schwarzenegger’s Total Body Workout.” Nirvana edited together clips from “Total Body Workout” to most humorous effect when the band played the U4 on November 22, 1989 in Vienna, Austria, Schwarzenegger’s native land.)

Take his exchanges with Sully, one of the prerequisite henchmen who’s a genuine sleaze (played by none other than David Patrick Kelly, who did this kind of creep in THE WARRIORS, 48 HOURS, and DREAMSCAPE, for example).

At one point early in the movie, Matrix tells Sully, “You’re a funny guy Sully, I like you. That’s why I’m going to kill you last.”

Later on, though, we get a great big payoff based on his promise that he would kill Sully last.

Did anybody remember this exchange when Schwarzenegger ran for Governor of California in the 2003 recall election?

You should remember Matrix’s line “I eat Green Berets for breakfast and right now, I’m very hungry” right alongside Nada’s “I have come here to chew bubblegum and kick ass … and I’m all out of bubblegum” from THEY LIVE.

In one of his funniest reviews, Roger Ebert on the “Siskel & Ebert” program boiled COMMANDO down to its essence: “Schwarzenegger tough guy, bad guys kidnap daughter, he blow ’em up real good.” Ebert said the script was written on the back of a small envelope.

They made some great choices for the actors who played the bad guys. In addition to Kelly, they picked Dan Hedaya, Vernon Wells, and Bill Duke. They’re actors who you love to hate, especially Hedaya, who’s been effective in that role in everything from BLOOD SIMPLE to THE HURRICANE. He made a great Richard Nixon in DICK.

Back when reviewing THE FLY (1986) a couple months ago, I touched on how it and DAWN OF THE DEAD (1978) work on several more levels than just merely being horror movies.

To a slightly lesser extent, the same holds true for COMMANDO within the action movie genre. Other Schwarzenegger films work on additional levels.

In THE TERMINATOR, for example, we get an unexpected tender love story between Kyle Reese (Michael Biehn) and Sarah Connor (Linda Hamilton).

In COMMANDO, we get the airline stewardess character named Cindy and played by Rae Dawn Chong, a part that Sharon Stone and Brigitte Nielsen wanted.

“The part was written for a Caucasian actress,” Chong said, “so I knew I had only one shot. My first reading with Arnold was this weird scene where he pulls a dildo out of my handbag. I knew other actresses were stumbling, because the character was supposed to shrug and say, ‘It gets lonely on the road.’ I thought that was so lame, so when my turn came I screamed and said, ‘That’s not mine!’ It got me the part. Was Arnold embarrassed about the dildo? Not even slightly. He didn’t break a sweat running a state, and he didn’t break a sweat handling a dildo then.”

Of course, there was a plan for a sex scene between Matrix and Cindy when they’re en route to the dictator’s island, but the studio did not like a Schwarzenegger and Chong pairing just as surely as Universal Pictures did not want a Schwarzenegger and Grace Jones pairing in CONAN THE DESTROYER. It worked out for the best in the long run, because that final scene of Matrix and his daughter boarding the plane with Cindy says all there needs to be said.

Cindy gives COMMANDO an extra dimension, a nice change of pace within a hypermacho world, and characters like her lift a genre picture even higher above others.