I’ve been having trouble sleeping lately. Normally I’d attribute it to the 2 liters of Monster Energy drink I normally consume while watching schlocky late night cinema, but I’ve been cutting back on that. So now when I finally do fall asleep I have some really weird dreams. One in particular I keep having is where I’m being chased by zombies in a city and when I try to drive away my car will only go 10 mph. Sure it looks like a Lamborghini but drives like a Prius. Then I realize that I actually have the mutant power of Spiderman and used my web slinging ability to climb to the top of the Sears towers. That’s where I discover Oprah Winfrey perched like a vulture in her pants suit gnawing on a chicken leg. It figures Oprah would be the one person to survive the zombie apocalypse. So she gave me keys to a free car and a Oprah book of the month club membership and I go swinging back to down to my car. It all ends when I try to peel out, and I find my tires have been replaced with large sprinkled doughnuts and there’s a monkey dressed as a bellhop in the passengers seat singing Celine Dion songs. That’s when I wake up in a cold sweat. Sure zombies and a benevolent Oprah I can handle, but not monkeys singing “My heart will go on”. Guess I should ease up on the Chinese food before bedtime.

Speaking of bad dreams. Dennis Quaid plays Alex, a psychic womanizer who uses his gift to predict the future, bet on horses and read girl’s minds. A former associate Dr. Novotny (Max von Sydow) hates seeing him squander his money on effeminate casual wear from the Penny’s catalog and gets him to join his classified government dream project instead. And you know when it’s secret and the government is involved someone is going to die. The military is using psychics to enter people’s dreams all in order to advance military science or in-dream banner ads which ever is more profitable. Alex, when he’s not gallivanting his boney torso around in his Underoos likes to play the saxophone Clinton-style and hit on lab technicians. Jane (Kate Capshaw) plays the queen of the babe lab technicians and works with Alex to sharpen his dream linking skills. They play card games, he reads her mind for a quick lite read and they get right to some train shagging during Jane’s power nap.

Alex starts warming up his dreamcatcher skills through some subconscious marital advising and construction stunt work all leading up to a big snake hunt in some little fat kids head. This was apparently during a time when science didn’t really need a specific purpose. Buddy has been having bad dreams of being stuck in a Tim Burton movie while being pursued by the Boogeyman and it’s been really cutting into his eating time, so Alex plugs his mind into Buddy’s brain and they do battle with a big demonic snake creature who wants to make little buddy into ground round. It’s a sort of Anne Coulter of the subconscious. Buddy succeeds in chopping the creatures head off with a big kill axe while Alex gives it a nice bear hug. I believe Buddy’s been doing a lot of free weights in his spare time.

Meanwhile back in Washington the president has been having nightmares of kids with bad acne jumping out of broom closets while nuclear blasts are going off all around them. The dreams are so bad that the president decides he wants to disarm all the nukes at the next Geneva convention. It’s obviously a plot by bunch of commies, so they must be destroyed, and the president is rushed into the dream institute to have him studied to end this horrible threat. The military dream program is headed up by Bob Blair. One of the most politically evil character’s ever to wear a polyester suit and yet they named him Bob. “Oh no!…tremble before the fear of…. Bob!” But Christopher Plummer can just ooze evil out of any character even if you stuck him in a Barney suit he’d still make children cry. Bob also has a hit squad in rented suits ready to run over phone booths on a moments notice, and his own pet psycho psychic, Tommy played perfectly by David Pat Kelly. Tommy enjoys stuffing his face with food while harassing Alex about whose the better dream-linker, and when he’s really bored he kills patients “Just for the kicks man.” Bob doesn’t want the military machine to stop churning out nukes, so he hires Tommy to try to dream assassinate the president at nap time.

Alex discovers the assassination plot thanks to the cunning investigative reporting by Norm from Cheers but then gets rick rolled out of a moving car before he can get the news back to Dr. Novotny whose already been killed by Bob’s goon squad. There’s a motorcycle road race and Alex gets chased down by Lincoln Continentals at the race tracks narrowly escaping into the back of a horse trailer. That’s a lot of horses a** for one trailer. Alex works his way back to the institute just in time to remote link up with the president who is dreaming he’s on a Amtrak in Hell, next stop downtown Armagedonville. They fight subway zombies, ninjas, and radioactive wolf-beasts while being pursued by Tommy who just impaled the train conductor with freddy fingers and turned into a giant Snakeman. I had that exact same dream once but I was in high school and I was in my underwear. Oh wait… maybe that wasn’t a dream.

Dreamscape’s a pretty fun little 80’s flick with big nods to influencing Wes Craven’s Nightmare on Elm St., complete with a bad guy sporting Freddyish finger blades, and a giant nightmarish snake creature. I saw this movie when I was 10 years old and back then the Snakeman scared the heck out of me, but this time around I found it rather goofy. Dennis Quaid without a shirt was the most horrifying thing about it. Retroman Steve says check it and be sure to not eat Chinese food before bedtime.

- 1 motorcycle chase with crash and bale
- 2 nuclear explosions
- 2 Snakemen
- Multiple radioactive mutants
- Norm from Cheers cameo
- Steel beam circus acts
- Train shaggin’
- Emergency heart removal
- Lee press on Freddy nails
- Numchuck chucking
- Mutant dogs

7.1 out of 10

“it’s Dennis Quaid-tastic”

Check out the trailer for Dreamscape

“On my planet this shirt attracts the females of my species.”

I’m not what you call a proficient grocery shopper. I don’t stock up on coupons or scan through the Sunday paper looking for the latest deals on canned tuna and toasted Wheat Thins. I only know it’s time to shop when I can no longer make a full meal from the refrigerator’s remaining survivors.. usually some condiments, a jar of olives, and a box of baking soda. So putting on a coat over my PJ’s I’d head out for that late night grocery run.

Late nights food runs you’d often find the store empty of customers so it was difficult to even find a checkout lady to wave me over to her conveyor belt. This time I was forced to confront the newest shopping breakthrough that was the new self checkout machine. Hey I’m a man of the world, a technology connoisseur, I could surely conquer this fancy slot machine wanna-be. First the Cheetos bag wouldn’t scan and when it did, It told me I bought 25 bags worth forever bestowing me the title “the crazy Cheetos guy.” Then placing the items in the bag a condescending computer voice would keep telling me to “Please place the item in the bag”… “Oh you mean the item that’s already in the bag?” The computer didn’t seem to understand any sense of irony. My arms had grown weak from the numerous failed attempts at scanning some cantaloupe and the Fonzi method of banging the machine on the side didn’t seem to help any so eventually a technician had to show me where to put my crinkled dollar bills. Who would have thought groceries need IT support.

I thought technology was supposed to make things easier. When was it decided that “easier” was just do it yourself? Self-serve gas station, ATM banking, and self scanning checkout lines, these are advances in modern convenience? No I want someone else to do this for me because I’m American and laziness is my God given constitutional right. if you’re not going to give me a real person to do the job then at least give me a robot. This 2009 after all, I should have my own jetpack and hover car by now. I shouldn’t be standing in my PJ’s swipping cans of lima beans while a lady in a purple mu mu waits behind me with her big box of glazed chick peas. Next time I will just go when a friendly cashier lady is available that will gladly talk with me about the weather as she scans my groceries while perfectly bagging things so my bread isn’t crushed by the 2 gallon mayonnaise jar and bag of ice (Hey I like potato salad and it was hot that night.)

Speaking of ladies that excel at their jobs. Switchblade sisters introduces us to a gang of street-wise ladies called the Dagger Debs who’ve made a career at beating up elevator passengers and picking fights at the local Dairy Queen. The Debs are led by Lace, a high-strung snappy dresser who works out her dialog through clenched teeth like she’s got a case of lock jaw. She and her gal pals beat up a helpless landlord, go jay walking,  and then take a break at the ice cream shop. Here they run into a cute blondie named Maggie who is hogging one of their favorite seats. Maggie’s your sorta typical girl next door…if your typical girl is packin’ heat and has inner rage issues. Little do they know she’s the kind of girl that will cut you deep for even looking at her Oreo Blizzard the wrong way so she slices one of the gang members across the face with a knife. The police suddenly show up like a swat team before it can turn really ugly. Apparently a doughnut shop was very close by.

The Debs all end up in a juvenile detention center where some big burly lady wardens try to make the night moves on the new girls but end up getting the snot beat out of them instead. Maggie is finally freed from juvi-jail but has an even worse time on the outside when she’s raped by Lace’s boyfriend Dom. Dom is the leader of another powerful gang called the Silver daggers, a ruthless gang of thugs who resemble the cast from Welcome Back Kotter and enjoy playing billiards between felonies. Lace trusts Maggie and invites her to join the Debs not knowing that her and Dom just did the nasty at her apartment the night before. The resident cyclops “Patch” happily points out that Maggie has to be initiated first before becoming a true Deb and then starts whining about how she “lost her eye for this gang.” But really, how can you take a pirate seriously?

They send her on a mission to recover a toy prop necklace from a rival gang leader who goes by the unfortunate name of crabs. Great way to impress the ladies when you’re named after a venereal disease. Crab runs a fake community center where they give out narcotics under the disguise as vitamin pills so that he can buy even more hideous shirts for his wardrobe. Maggie stops by at their headquarters and  pretends to be attracted to Mr. Crabs which is probably the most impressive acting you’ll see in the whole film. In the middle of her seduction act she bites him on his Shootzle Deetzle, grabs the necklace and breaks through a office wall like the Koolaid man. Maggie returns to the Debs triumphant with her newly won trophy. Now there’s no questioning Maggie’s loyalty  with her ability to steal novelty prop jewelry.

Later on the Debs and the Daggers are vengefully ambushed by the Crab gang at the local rollerskating rink.  Lace gets punched in the baby maker whose oven was already preheated with Dom’s unborn kid and Dom gets a shotgun blast to the belly by the big Red Lobster himself. Maggie and Lace have to leave him to bleed to death in the center rink while Donna Summers music still blares on… a truly horrifying fate for anyone.

Maggie and Lace decide they want to avenge Dom’s death so they enlist some black power lady militants who drive pimped out armored Cadillacs and get their kicks making white hippies in disco shirts run and scream like little girls. I think that’s something anyone can really enjoy though. But not everything is as it seems there’s plot twists a plenty as jealously and secrets are threatening to destroy the gang. Who set up whom, who had an affair with who…who is loyal to whom. And when should the word whom actually be used in a sentence? It all ends up in a good old dance of death with switchblade divas giving us a great Shakespearean twist to this little exploitation romp.

Tarantino released this as his second film in his Rolling Thunder film series so be sure to check out his intro and outro on the DVD extras. His movie clerk geekiness clearly shows as he talks in great detail about the film and why they changed the name from The Jezebels to Switchblade Sisters. You can tell he was just up late one night at the videostore wired up on Jujubes and diet Coke while watching it. Also Keep an eye out for Don Stark who plays Hook. Yes it’s the same Don Stark that played Bob Picnciotti in that 70’s show and by gosh he still had the same hair and side burns. A great cheesy exploitation film, Retroman says check it out and be sure to be packin some heat.

- Multiple gang shootings
- 1 neck stabbing
- Medallion-fu
- Wacka-chicka-wacka fu
- Welcome Back Kotter doppelgangers
- Dairy Queen Dagger Queens
- Face plunging
- Swirly-fu
- Vita-van vandals
- Cadi-tanks
- Bellybutton ashtrays

Rated 8.9 out of 10

Check out the trailer for Switchblade Sisters

“This has to be the worse salad bar I’ve ever seen.”

You know we’re living in a rough economy when even an American foundation like Playboy is struggling. They recently announced a net loss of 2.1 million dollars and they would have to lay off employees and tighten the company’s budget or face potential bankruptcy. I only wonder how is Hugh Hefner going to cut back? Will Playboy bunnies be forced to buy their own rabbit ears and sleazy lounge uniforms? Will there be less air brushing in the centerfolds? Will Hugh have to settle with only a couple girls on on his arms instead of the dozen or so buxom blondes normally surrounding him. It would be an American tragedy if he was forced to turn in the smoking jacket and pipe for a Walmart greeter uniform and smiley button flare. I mean how can this man survive in those conditions? The long established tradition of teenagers hiding their stash of Playboys under their mattresses is now at risk. Millions of them are at risk to be forced to read Sears underwear catalogs, playboy playmates out on the streets holding up signs that read “will tell you my likes and dislikes for food.” We simply can’t allow that to happen.

Speaking of men that  really like their melons, Charles Bronson plays Vince Majestyk, a Vietnam vet turn watermelon farmer and a collector of denim jackets and goofy hats. Vince is approached one day while working out in his fields by a scraggly Owen Wilson wanna-be named Bobby Copas. Bobby finds combing his hair difficult and likes to dress in cheap western wear while trying to talk farmers into hiring some of his gang of drunks and homeless. He’s sort of the used car dealers of cheap labor but Chuck Bronson will have no part of his shenanigans as he’s totally content with his $1 an hour illegal immigrant work force and smashes him in the groin with the end of his own shotgun. Now that’s how you negotiate a labor dispute. Majestyk has to serve some time at the county jail for that little fruit smashing incident and is worried about not being able to get his crops in on time but the sergeant doesn’t really care for fruit salad and makes him serve his sentence. While being transported on a prison bus along with a Mafia big fish, Frank Redna, a breakout attempt occurs along with big 70’s style shootout that gives Vince the chance to kidnap Frank and use him as leverage to help clear the charges against him. Though the thought of hiding out in a tiny cabin with a loud mouthed mobster might be a worser fate than any jail time. Frank is eventually picked up by his rail-thin girlfriend and Vince has to squeeze into the back seat of a 70’s Ford compact.

The drop off to the police doesn’t go as planned and Vince ends up tumbling out the backseat like a tossed watermelon into a ditch. Frank tries to shoot at him with typical bad guy accuracy and Vince easily escapes fleeing into the woods. Being the upright citizen Vince turns himself in to the police station only to find that Bobby Copas has dropped the assault charges against him so that he and his new Mafia friends can put some major hurt on Vince when he’s set free. Haven’t any of these guys ever seen a Death Wish movie?

With the help of a pretty immigrant union organizer named Nancy, Mr. Majestic goes back to his normal life of melon tossin’ and squinting in the sun until his workers start ending up getting bullied by Frank and company. Vince’s right hand man has his legs smashed, his workers are forced out of their homes at gunpoint, and policemen in Porta-Potties turn up dead…but that is barley even enough to curl his mustache.

The final straw is when a mobster hit squad shots up his watermelon crop with some semi machine guns while Vince is out putting the moves on La Senorita Nancy. Nothing makes a farmer angrier than a pointless melon massacre and he goes on a vengeful shooting spree against this gang of Gallagher impersonators. Finally, a fruit cup of justice is served. Some great cross country truck racing, cars getting pushed off cliffs, and a log cabin stand-off make the highlight reel in this 70’s film classic as Charlie Bronson becomes the ultimate watermelon vigilante. Retroman says check it out and don’t forget to spit out the seeds.

- 3 Shoot-outs
- 1 Mobster kidnapping
- Shotgun butt to the groin
- Multiple car chases and car explosions
- Water-melon-fu
- Drive by Porta-Potty attack
- 2 by 4 smack down
- Vehicular leg crushing

Rated 9.4 out of 10

My Uncle told me when I was a little kid if I didn’t spit out the watermelon seeds that a watermelon would grow in my stomach . So I thought that pregnant ladies were just carrying around watermelons in their bellies. So began my unhealthy fear of fruit…and of pregnant women.

Check out the trailer for Mr. Majestyk

Taglines:

• If you don’t treat Santa nice he’ll put you on ice.
• Ralphie has a present for you, a double barrel shot gun of death!
• Naughty…nice…It doesn’t matter…Ralphie’s the guy with the gun.
• Santa is belted, buckled, booted, and ready for action.
• A double dog dare you of death!

Synopsis

Ralphie is a CIA operative who has been working the mean streets of New York for nearly 9 years. His latest assignment is as an undercover mobster within a powerful cartel family called the Parkers. The cartel is run by an overbearing drunken father referred to as “The Old Man.” He’s been selling bunk cocaine from the trunk of his Oldsmobile while the mother, a struggling go-go dancer, sells her homemade stews on the street to help buy more mashed potatoes for the mute brother Randy, it’s the only food he can digest. Mr. Parker collects erotic memorabilia including a highly valuable leg sculpture he imported from the little known southern island of Fragile. It’s his most prized possession.

One brisk winter day, the sculpture gets destroyed in a lower east side drive by. An apparent attack by the Bumpuseses gang, a ruthless group of southern rednecks who have an affinity for training large rabid attack dogs. Mr. Parker however believes it was in an inside job and that he has a rat among his associates. Later that day Ralphie tries to extract some information about the drive-by from Scut Farkus, a freckled face yellow eyed physcopath who demands everyone call him “Uncle.” Dangerous and unpredictable, he wears a hat made of human scalps and will break the arm of anyone who even look at him crossed eyed.

Ralphie hopes to track down his red rider assault rifle which he believes was used in attack on the Parker’s home and could be traced back to him. He beats Scut Furkus senselessy in a back alley until Scut confesses that he’s just a low level henchman for a rich city pimp known as “Big Red.” Big Red is a Santa impersonator at the local mall but is a cover for his underground white slave trade and has an even bigger hatred for Mr. Parker than the city cops. When Ralphie and Randy show up at his headquarters, they get surprised with a trap door that sends them both plummeting to the city streets below where some elve henchmen beat them to a pulp. Battered and bruised, Ralphie finds help from a local teacher known for her strict rules and deathly assassin moves. A teacher and martial arts master so ruthless she is rumored to have nailed a student’s tongue to a flag pole just for him being disrespectful.

After a lengthy recovery and training, Ralphie receives a secret coded message over the radio  from agent Annie who’s been tracking him and his mission’s progress. Project “Drink Your Ovaltine” is a go for Christmas day as a big drug shipment disguised as kid’s chocolate drinks is heading up state. Upon return to the family, Ralphie cover is blown from a phoned-in tip from Flick, a fellow mobster who suspected he might be a cop when he witnessed him talking into his secret decoder ring. Held prisoner at the Parker home Ralphie endures a series of tortures including being gagged with soap and forced to wear a pink bunny suit all for the amusement of the cartel. At his darkest hour a mysterious package arrives at the door bearing a tag that reads “A gift from Santa.” Inside is his red-rider assault rifle loaded and ready for action. He breaks free, grabs the gun and takes out the guards with extreme prejudice. Escaping through a broken window and nearly losing his eye in the process he drives  away in the family’s Oldsmobile. Flat tire and cursing under his breath he eventually makes his way to Chinatown and finds refuge as a fry cook in a small Chinese restaurant. Ralphie now in federal protection, hopes to never be found by the Parkers who want his head on a platter. From that day on the eye patched operative must always watch over his shoulders as the last words from Mr. Parker still haunt him… “Not a finger!” “Not a finger!”

Merry Christmas..Can you dig it suckas?

“I’m about to open a fortune cookie of Whoop Ass.“

When you think Kung-fu masters you think names like Jackie Chan, Bruce Lee, Jet li, sometimes Chuck Norris if a drinking game is involved…uh maybe Daniel Larusso but only the one in Karate Kid II…oh and that chef at the Japanese Steak house. The way he spins those knifes and cut shrimp in the air you just know on the weekends he’s fighting evil. But now there enters a new 80’s Kung-fu hero, Leroy Green, a student of the martial arts seeking his own hi-pro glow, the apparent sign of achieving perfect kung-fu or being radioactive, whichever comes first. He also has an unhealthy obsession with Bruce Lee and smells a bit like pizza. Leroy’s family owns a Daddy Green’s pizzeria shop in Harlem while he teaches a pacifist karate class for kids, a sort of Shy-Goy-Dies branch of the Martial Arts. Where’s Mr. Miyagi when you need him? That old man could teach you karate and get a house painted, car waxed, and catch flies with chop sticks all in the same day.

Leroy thwarts an attempted kidnapping of a local celebrity, Laura, who hosts a dance show/space-camp party show called “7th Heaven” minus Jessica Biel of course. The only perquisite to get on the show is sufficient leg warmer coverage or a minimum frizzy hair size…actual dancers need not apply. Laura is played by Vanity, a spaced-out Janet Jackson wanna-be from the early 80’s who sang like she was doped up on Goofballs and was also Prince’s main squeeze. She’s being pursued by a balding local arcade owner, Eddie Arkadian, who wants to get his middle aged high-pitched girlfriend auditioned on Laura’s show. You know it’s the 80’s if an arcade owner is still a rich business tycoon. Today you’d be lucky to find them begging for Xbox Live points or peddling old crane games on a street corner.

Leroy is constantly being harassed by who is arguably the tallest black man with bed hair in harlem “Sho’nuff” dressed as a fashion blind samurai/goalie who desperately wants to fight Leroy for the title of baddest mofo in Harlem. But Leroy would rather spout Chinese proverbs and whine how he hasn’t found the true master while he watches old kung-fu movies.

Laura is yet again kidnapped by Eddie’s gang of misfit thugs. This girl just can’t stop getting kidnapped (possibly mistaken for nasty Ms. Jackson?) but this time a bunch of paid assassins and trained fighters are waiting for Bruce Leroy to rescue her including a particular jolly old elf with a mohawk. I didn’t realize Santa liked to rumble. Really not much plot to really get into here. There’s a big fight between Leroy and Sho’nuff that has strong hints of the light sabre dual between Luke and Darth. There’s some escapees from the Jackson Five along with some rappin’ Chinese gangsters dudes and a senile old Kung-fu trainer who wants to retire to Florida. Add 2 parts break dancing, 1 annoying MTV video and several old Bruce Lee film clips and you’ve got yourself good campy kung-fu that won’t leave you gasy. I say give it a whirl in the DVD player if only for some of these great one-liners…

“You just get that sucker to the designated place at the designated time, and I will gladly designate his ass… for dismemberment!”

“Kiss my Converse”

“Now, when I say, “Who’s da mastah?” you say, “Sho’nuff!”

“Just direct-a your feets-a to Daddy Green’s Pizza!”

Keep an eye out for…

- gratuitous use of an MTV video
- boombox crushing
- popstar cheesy mustaches
- extreme latticework
- middle aged Madonna wanna-be’s
- pet piranhas
- hi-beam headlights
- extreme shoulder padding
- true Master glow - now with more cleaning power
- arrow catching
- bullet flossing
- Santas with mohawks
- Chinese Bubbonics
- dysfunctional fortune cookies
- belt buckle medallions

Here’s what I’d like on my tombstone “Here lies the baddest mofo low down around this town. Sho’nuff!”

rated 8.9 out of 10 for the movie

Check out the trailer for the The Last Dragon

“Wake-up calls at the Holiday Inn are getting a bit out of control.”

Welcome to the apocalypse! Yes in the way too distant future of 1990. I’ts Bush economics, grunge rock, and the rise of Oprah so it must be the end of civilization. This film was actually made in 1982 but the director pulled a Nostradamus on us predicting the end of the world was only 8 short years from then. I had just started stocking up on canned goods when Roseanne Bar sang the national anthem that year so I was already ahead of the curve. In this “future” the Bronx have become so crime ridden and corrupt that the mayor of New York just seals it off and let’s anarchy reign, sort of like Jersey except with Hell’s Angels and knife fights. Stefania Girolami, plays Ann, a ditzy blonde on the run from the safe city streets, who heads over to the Bronx via an un-guarded bridge. Border security’s still a problem in “THE FUTURE!”

Her greeting party is a gang of hockey rejects donning roller skates and shoulder pads. Instead of laughing uncontrollably she actually tries to escape them, most likely in fear of catching a case of their hockey hair. Yah it’s a Canadian disease that manifests itself in the form of mullets and a thirst for maple syrup ya hoser. The hockey league is broken up though when a gang called the “riders” who supposedly run the city show up just in time on their crappy Japanese motorcycles complete with skull night-lights and scare away the canucks. “Trash” is their fearless dim-witted leader, a muscle with feet played by Mark Gregory. His painful attempts at acting are like watching someone pass a gal stone, tedious and uncomfortable. We also get amazing quotes from Trash like “We are born dead” or “you bastards!” That pretty much sums up 90% of his dialog along with random empty stares into space or constant looks of being perplexed. You’ll also notice how he can’t walk and talk at the same time which probably due his permanent ultra-wedgie fitting jeans. The leaders of the Manhattan Corporation back in the city wants to get Ann back as she’s the heiress to the company fortune so they attempt to send in a over-the-hill undercover cop disguised as a postal worker who refers to himself as “the Hammer.” His mission is to infiltrate the gang, get her out , and destroy as many innocent bystanders as possible. Where’s Kurt Russel when you need him?

Along with that problem the Riders also have to deal with a rival gang called the the Tigers (yet another dull gang name) who are also trying to take over the Bronx. They’re a fashion challenged group in their 70’s influenced pimp suits driving around in their 1930’s street rods. It’s always the “bro’s before ho’s.” It seems that the Tigers killed one of the Riders by impaling him on a riverside dock in a late night scuffle because he was carrying a “gizmo.” What does the gizmo do? I don’t know or really care but there is a cool drum solo and a long stand-off by the river where everyone tries to out-stare each other, a skill Trash has excelled at. Nothing is worth fighting gangs of hockey players, off broadway rejects, and a strange gang of gay tap dancers.

It’s like West side story all over again when “Trash” and his cohorts “Hot Dog”, “Trash”, “Ice”, and other household-object named gangsters start to pick fights. Trash enlists the help of the king of the Bronx, the great Ogre but when Trash says it in his bad New York accent it sorta sound like “Yogurt.”

“I need to find Yogurt!” “Yogurt can help us!” yes it can with fewer calories and a fruit rich taste.

Yogurt, I mean Ogre, is obviously the king of all the pimps with  his zebra animal hides draped over roman columns adorning his luxurious outdoor Coleman tents. A headquarters where his followers hang out and figure out their next big raid or discuss decoration tips on fengshui. He is accompanied by “Witch” (Betty Dessy) a dominatrix who uses her handy whip to grab bad guys by the neck or stabs them with some stainless steel finger knives (they should have known the safety word.)

A big battle royal occurs between the gangs and the city police who infiltrate their hideout from a tips provided to them by a double-agent. The cops arrive on horseback using the most logical weapon of choice, a flame flower and proceed to light up gangsters like camping smores. The attack is lead by the Hammer (I said you can’t touch this!) and they all start torching every pimp and Hell’s Angel in sight. The hilarity at the fight choreography is something to see, sort of like a bad high school play version of a kung-fu film. There’s some double crossing and foot stabbing but none of it really matters to this cheese wax thin plotline. What really makes this move fun is the great English dubbed Italian dialog.

“Where you come from?” “I came her purposely”

“This whole operations is hush hush”

“You’ve been using your whip again?” “Yeah just like you taught me.”

“Your playing with fire” “I know and I love it…I love it!”

Wow! Shakespeare would be proud. So give it a try, it’s definitely worth a rental but always remember to throw the burial ashes down-wind.

Keep an eye out for…

- pimp-ka-bob’s
- burial ash tossing
- Hammer harpooning
- glowing skull night lights
- hockey gymborees
- tap dancing gangs
- postal workers going postal
- drummer auditions next to impaled dead guys
- Lee press-on knives
- Amazing Ginsu work-boots
- Zebra skin outdoor decoration
- extreme chest vests
- flame throwing equestrians

You know your mama loves you when she names you “Trash”

rated 7.5 out of 10 for the movie

Check out the opening credit sequence for 1990: The Bronx Warriors

“The original Big Bird was actually a struggling pimp living on Sesame Street in Harlem“

Pam Grier plays Flower Child Coffin “Coffy”, a hospital nurse with a hippie name and a vengeful spirit which doesn’t really lend herself to a profession in bedside care. Her little sister got hooked on heroin and is a kids detox so she goes on a mission to find the dealers and anyone remotely related to the drug bosses that got her sister hooked. Blowing holes through drug dealers heads, junkies, shooting Italians in swimming pools, and stabbing goattee bodyguards in the neck. It’s all in nights work for a nurse. I think Coffy needs to ease up on the caffeine before she takes out a bus of nuns with a bazooka.

Meanwhile a cop friend of hers named Carter Brown decides not to go the corrupt route like the rest of the police force who has made a deal with mafia and drugs dealers. This results in him getting beaten like a piece of ground beef in his apartment by some masked henchman while Coffy is over visiting. Didn’t he watch Godfather? The mob doesn’t kindly to non-team players.

Coffy also has her own sugar daddy, Howard “the shrapnel tummy” Brunswick, a congressmen on the take along with the police force (eesh do they all get some sort of mobster group discount?) He’s been working back street deals to get a big cut of the drug profits and gain more control of the city. Coffy who is still on the trail of the drug dealers dresses up as a prostitute from Jamaica to try to get employed by a local big league Pimp who calls himself King George. His dressing attire makes no doubt of his occupation as any low flying planes in a dense fog could spot his bright yellow jump leisure suit for a safe landing. It’s sort of a super pimp outfit. Coffy easily passes the job interview using her “assets” and “references” and later that night switches out George’s heroin supply with some powdered sugar (in case George needs to make some laffy taffy.) Upon returning to a mobster dinner party where all the big league dealers are schmoozing she starts a cat fight with some of the other hookers. It’s all broken bottles, torn dresses, tossed salads, and stained cocktail gowns. She does some sweet kung-fu moves and ultimate fighting pile drivers on her hooker co-workers and even hides a straight razor in her afro causing some nasty paper cuts. An Italian Mobster named Petroni enjoys the super hooker smack down and wants Coffy to come over later to play hide the salami at his apartment. Coffy attempts to take him out via a stuffed animal with a .44 magnum in it but is caught by Petroni’s goons just before she can pop him right between the pepperonis.

When interrogated via some vicious indian burns she rats out that King George actually sent her as a hooker hit girl (everyone always blames the pimp). This results in King George getting forced into some imprompto speed boat rafting. Well excepts there’s no boat or raft, and he’s tied behind a car by his neck. Not a very popular outdoor sporting activity. There’s more double crossing, double barrel shoguns, and double D’s than you can count in this film.

After seeing Pam Grier in the film Jackie Brown, I knew she was one bad ass foxy mama (look out I’m breaking out my jive talk) So I was looking forward to seeing what is hailed as one of her best films. I definitely agree it’s a great grindhouse film filled with plenty of sex, violence and leisure suits. And doesn’t that pretty much sum up the 70’s? So definitely check it out. I ain’t talkin’ no jive turkey so can you dig my rap? My mama didn’t raise no fool….ugh.. sorry I can’t help myself.

Keep an eye out for…

- banana suit pimps
- sugar daddy politicians
- stuffed lions packing heat
- razor blade hair clips
- mobster bodyguards dressed as gay pirates
- extreme pimp dragging
- roadside neck stabbing
- bad Jamaican accents
- diner party cat fights
- hooker shotguns
- salad bowl body slams
- sugar shoot-ups
- lounge dinner strippers

Coffy is in no way endorsed by Juan Valdez or any of the coffee union members

rated 8.4 out of 10 for the movie

Check out the trailer for Coffy

“Bring it On!“

With the onset of a cold winter we’ve had a few indoor events at the local sporting arena. Usually there’s such exciting events as insurance agency seminars, the occasional gun and knife show and the ever popular women’s expo, an exploration in the dark art of potpourri and decoupage. Recently I was fortunate enough to check out the BIG RV and camper show there. It’s an extravaganza of gas guzzling houses on wheels. You could move a Chinese family of 8 into one of those giant display campers and have them live there quite comfortably. Heck those RV’s have everything I could ever need. When tours would come through I’d just be like “Hey I’m trying to take a shower here! Can I have some privacy please?” Only in America would we be lazy enough to want to drive a whole house across the country. “You know I don’t really want to leave my couch…if only there was a way I could take my living room, kitchen, and bathroom with me. Then I could go see the largest ball of twine!” and so RV’s were born.

In “Race with the Devil” the central star is also a giant gas guzzling camper. It’s a bit older and the interior is encased with shag carpet and wood grain paneling, enough to make your eyes water, but it can still hold it’s own against the onslaught of hippie devil worshipers. A “race” with belezabub is not really a race as much as it is a competitively fast paced walk with occasional rest stops for snacks & ammo and the refreshing dip in the public pool. The racing RV belongs to Frank Stewart, a greasy little elf who is partners with a motocross star wanna-be, Roger Marsh, played by the always groovified Peter Fonda. They plan to take a vacation to Colorado for some rest and relaxation with their fragile nerved girlfriends and practice up on some their combined drinking and motorcrossing skills. During a night of drunken debauchery and fondue they inadvertently notice some hippie tree huggers (in this case tree burners) having a party in a nearby field. What at first appears to just be a bad local outdoor theater production turns into a human sacrifice ceremony. You usually have to pay extra for that.

Figuring these are no renaissance festival actor rejects, Roger and company pack up the Fonda fondue and high tail it outta there just as the satanic fanboys attack their RV. Narrowly escaping that devil’s tailgate party with only a few broken windows and taillights, they go to the police to report the incident. The cops and sheriff having all the competence of the police force from the Dukes of Hazzard pretty much shrug of the incident as a kids prank but the vacationers decide to take their suspicions to the nearest big city instead. Of course mentioning your secret plans out loud is never a good idea and satanists are notorious for having a keen sense of hearing.

What started out as a nice vacation ends up being a desperate cat and mouse game across the state highways. Campsites turn out to be satanic playgrounds with creepy old people in bath robes who lynch dogs and put rattle snakes in your camper. Evil construction workers cause traffic jams and create detours of doom, and roadhouse bars are revealed to be pagan hangouts where Satan spins his evil tunes through the wailing noise of country music. Oh wait, I guess they pretty much already do that.

It all leads to a great road rage chase scene complete with Peter Fonda riding shotgun (literally) and throwing taquilla bombs at their truck driving pursuers. Fortunately redneck satanists are also bad drivers and the vacationers stocked up lots of booze for their trip. Who said there aren’t benefits to alcoholism?

Definitely a fun little action/horror b-movie for fans of Peter Fonda and even more so for fans of RV’s. So I say check it out and always remember to check your tire pressure, adjust your mirrors, and check all your camper’s cupboards for any stowaway rattlesnakes before your trip. There are old people everywhere and they’re watching you.

Keep an eye out for…

- Devil worshipping BBQ’s
- Extreme off roading RV’s
- Redneck roadhouse of the Damned
- Construction workers of the Damned
- Country music of the Damned
- Snake wranglin’
- Dog lynchings
- Pagan pool parties
- Cult book kleptomania

Do you think Peter Fonda drives a Honda? Then he can just say things like “Hey everyone, wanna drive the Fonda Honda?”

rated 8.3 out of 10 for the movie

Check out the trailer for Race with the Devil

“Make any sudden moves and you’ll get an arrow straight through your thunderdome.”

What is the appeal of NASCAR? I’ve watched it a few times on tv and will wake up for the occasional wall smash or mid lane collision. But overall it’s watching cars go endlessly around in circles all at about the same numbing pace. Like a marching band parade at 200 mph. Where’s Rusty Wheeler yelling to his pit crew”Rubbin’s is racing!” and slamming into another car into the outside wall at 200 mph all the while an 80’s soundtrack blares in the background. Days of Thunder this ain’t. Nope Instead I get to be treated to the views of beer bellied fans with the number 31 painted on their tools sheds while they sit on top of their big RV’s scratching themselves. Is that a stereotype of Nascar fans…no it’s a stereotype of RV drivers.

In The Road Warrior, the racing is much more interesting with no spectators and the stakes are your life for gasoline. At $3.25 per gallon I can see why people even today might consider running that Humvee off the road and siphon off it’s fuel supply, but in post apocalyptic Australia it’s purely a matter of survival. Mel “Catholic to the extreme” Gilbson plays The Road Warrior. A man whose lost everything and now travels the desolate highways scavaging for food and gasoline for his muscle car. Not a Speedway or Arby’s in sight he comes across a booby trapped homemade helicopter instead. After a brief stint with a rattle snake and a bad toothed Brit he learns about a nearby operational oil refinery where he could stock up on supplies.

Mel takes the Monty Python wanna-be hostage to track down the oil refinery but finds that it’s also being stalked by a crazy gang of outlander barbarians who want to take the refinery for their own. Lead by a balding muscleman in a hockey mask, they continue to attack the barricaded compound while he spouts his keen observations through a mega phone. It’s sorta like a muscle car truck rally without the high ticket prices.

Mel eventually makes a deal with the leader of the compound to help them all escape to a tropical paradise and with the help of a small furry midget boy who has a striking reemblence to Bam-bam from the  Flintstones,  he hauls the fuel tanker out with a beat up old semi truck. Ehat ensues could be one of the best post apocalyptic car chases and semi truck fight scenes ever….ok it might just be the only one but still a lot of fun to watch. What struck me odd was the fact that the people defended this compound with a flamethrower and a seemingly endless supplies of bows and arrows. Did someone lose all the guns? At least they had a good supply of used football equipment to use for costumes.

Definitely one to watch again if you haven’t seen it for a while. Sad to say I haven’t seen the original Mad Max but plan to now that I’ve experience the greatness of the Road Warrior….and yes I’ve seen Thunderdome..all I got to say to that is “Big wheels keep on turnin’ …turnin’…”

Keep an eye out for…

- football shoulder pads of the apocalypse
- Bad British dental care
- dog food gourmet
- sharp shooter hockey players of wastelands
- bommer-rang Ginsu knives
- Bam-Bam from the Flintstones
- Armageddon archery club

Fortunately Mel Gibson wasn’t drinking when filming Road Warrior. Nothing worse than getting pulled over after the apocalypse on DUI.

rated 8.9 out of 10 for the movie

Check out the trailer for The Road Warrior