Posts Tagged ‘Drive-In



24
Nov
13

Motel Hell (1980): Hearts in the Right Place…The Meat Grinder

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a Primal Root review

“Sometimes I wonder about the karmic implications of these actions.” -Farmer Vincent

With Thanksgiving mere days away,  I begin contemplating  good old fashioned family values and the anticipation of devouring finely prepared, mouth watering, slaughtered animals. Hell, there’s nothing better than celebrating your thankfulness with the ones you love than by roasting the carcass and then sinking your teeth into the delicious flesh of the traditional Thanksgiving turkey, honey cured ham, or human torso. After all, as Farmer Vincent says, “Meat’s Meat and a Man’s gotta Eat.”

This is the central conceit of Kevin Connor’s 1980 black comedy horror masterpiece, “Motel Hell”, the story of a family Motel and Meat curing business torn asunder by the meddling of outsiders who just don’t understand their ways.  Tall, white haired, skinny as a rail Farmer Vincent (Rory Calhoun, charming as ever) and his large, imposing, deranged sister Ida (Nancy Parson, Coach Balbricker from Porky’s!) run the rural Motel Hello and adjacent Farmer Vincent’s Smoked Meats stand. Their meat and down home hospitality are legendary to those who grew up int he area, and tourists come from far and wide to get a taste at Farmer Vincents secret recipe… I have a feeling you know where I’m going with this, it ain’t just an extra dash of Tabasco in those cocktail weenies!

Yeeeeah, I think I'm gonna go find a Ramada...

Yeeeeah, I think I’m gonna go find a Ramada…

Vincent and Ida spend their evenings laying out intricate traps in order to capture unwary travels who make the mistake of passing near their homestead int he middle of the night. Once they’ve nabbed their prey, those poor souls are interred in the sibling’s “secret garden” and go through a very special procedure to prepare their succulent human flesh for the famous family recipe giving their cured meats that one of a kind flavor. As Farmer Vincent cheerily exclaims, “It Takes All Kinds of Critters, To Make Farmer Vincent’s Fritters!”  The two siblings seems to have a real good thing going, the business sis booming, their little brother and local law enforcement officer, Bruce, has no idea what they’re up to and there’s no lack of dim witted heathens to run off the road and turn into beef jerky treats. But it’s when Vincent takes in one of his victims, the lovely Terry (Nina Axelrod) and decides it might be a good idea to settle down that their whole cannibalistic world begins caving in.

Now, before I go and give you the idea that Vincent and Ida are both out of control backwoods psychopaths ala The Texas Chainsaw Massacre family, let me state that these are two of the most friendly, accommodating and thoughtful human flash slurping cannibals in cinematic history. These two are concerned with making their victim’s, er, livestock’s slaughter as painless as possible, and go through some bizarrely comical means in order to make sure of this. Hell, they even have lovely introspective conversations where they ponder the karmic implications of their work and whether or not they will be remembered fondly for the work they do on the farm. Vincent and Ida are murderers, plain and simple, but one cannot help like this introspective, God fearing duo.  Hell, later in the film when Terry starts flashing her tits and Vincent and tries to make out with the old man, he stops her and insists they should be married before there will be such hanky-panky. Could you ever imagine Leatherface doing this? Hell, head probably start hollering, tearing his hair out and rev up his chainsaw…Not Farmer Vincent, that guy’s got one strong, if deeply flawed, moral compass.

don't worry, I'll send the Christ cuts to Hebrew National.

Don’t worry, I’ll send the Christ cuts to Hebrew National.

In one stand out scene from ‘Motel Hell”, Farmer Vincent, Ida, and younger brother and lawman Bruce, tell Terry a down home story about how their long dead Grandmother was the one who taught Vincent everything he knows about curing and smoking meats out of necessity since the family didn’t have an icebox. One day, when Granny was sick and tired of a neighbor’s dog constantly barking, she asked Vincent to go take care of it. Vincent chuckles as he recalls throwing the dog in the meat smoker and serving it up for dinner. Ira and Bruce both chuckle and join in, recalling how the meat was a bit like goat meat, only stringier, as Terry looks on in stunned disbelief before chocking it up to simple hillbilly behavior.  Farmer Vincent justifies his actions by quoting his Granny, “Meat is Meat and a Man’s Gotta Eat!”

Really, being raised with such a mentality it’s totally understandable that Vince and Ida don’t see a difference between the meat of animals and the meat of human beings. Int he end, really, what is the difference? The slaughter, clean and cut up the meat just the same as all the others int he smoke house. It’s just business, nothing personal, plus it gives them their one of a kind flavor which makes them stand out from the competition! It’s literally a dog eat dog world in Motel Hell, as our homicidal duo take care in selecting those they feel don’t contribute to society like bikers, metal bands, working girls, swingers and FDA inspectors, and add them to the ever growing mouth watering deathloaf. Even though the public has no knowledge of the human content in their smoked meats, at least they can rest easy knowing here are no chemicals or preservatives in the product they just ate. Hey, that’s just good, down home quality! Who has time to worry if a couple members of that missing hair band you saw last week are in that jerky stick?

Grazing in the grass is a gas, baby, can you dig it?

Grazing in the grass is a gas, baby, can you dig it?

As we all expected from the beginning, Terry wonders into the smokehouse and stumbles onto the big family secret and end sup bound, gagged and listening to Vincent’s fundamentalist dogma as he explains why it is he does what he do all while chopping a human body into hot dog meat. Vincent goes on to explain that he’s helping out the human condition by controlling over population and handling the food shortage problem all in one fell swoop. “What gives you the right to play God?” Terry asks. “Play God? I wouldn’t even know where to start! I’m just helping out.”  It’s a strange “Greater Good, God’s Plan” argument I feel many folks on the political right could totally get behind, especially when espoused by such a seemingly down to earth and loveable folk hero as Farmer Vincent. Hell, we all have to make sacrifices, right? Might as well be the working class that won’t be missed!

As soon as the heroic, if incredibly dumb and rapey, Bruce bursts into the smokehouse to save the day, “Motel Hell” dives head first into it’s absurd, surrealist underpinnings and bursts through the floodgates with blood spattered jubilant glee as Farmer Vincent dons a severed pigs head, picks up his chainsaw and engages his little brother in chainsaw, to chainsaw combat while laughing like a maniac the entire time. It’s graphic, it’s goofy, it’s gory and unlike anything I’ve seen before or since in the annals of American backwoods cannibal horror cinema. It feels like some kind of blood drenched fever dream you would have after consuming to much Christmas ham and then getting a stomach bug. My words fail to do the finale of “Motel Hell” justice, you’ve gotta see it to even begin to comprehend it.

Babe III: The Reckoning

Babe III: The Reckoning

“Motel Hell” is a queer duck of a horror film. It delivers the horror and the comedy, but it doesn’t exactly mix and ends up more often than, simply being absurd. I laughed my ass either way,  as this is some truly peculiar, yet, entertaining food for thought.  Try not to fall in love with Farmer Vincent and Ida, I dare ya. Those two are such fantastic, memorable characters, you’ll find yourself deeply saddened to see them go by film’s end.

So, this Thanksgiving, be thankful for your family, friends and take a closer look at that dead thing you’re shoveling into your face. you never know just who might be over for dinner.

Four and a Half out of 5 Dumpster Nuggets. Root highly recommends you spend a night at “Motel Hell!”

Stay Trashy!

-Root

09
Nov
13

Blip.TV Cancels and Deletes The Primal Root’s Rotten Reviews

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a Primal Root Dirty Thought

Gang, I am saddened to say that blip.tv has cancelled our original review show “The Primal Root’s Rotten Reviews” and deleted every single episode I ever uploaded to their site since I began creating this venture back in 2009.  From what I gather from the notifications I have been sent,  blip.tv is under new ownership and are deleting shows and accounts that violate their new terms of use and are of “low quality.” This means us. The Trash Cinema Collective’s original video series “The Primal Root’s  Rotten Reviews” no longer have a home or a hosting site.  This means that the links on our page to these videos are no longer active or watchable.  Blip.tv was once an open forum for those with original ideas and content that other hosting site would be quick to take down or outright deny the exhibition of.  It’s a shame, and I cannot deny how disappointed I am that they have chosen this path.

Hopefully this is only momentary as we scour the internet looking for a site that has balls enough to host our videos. If you have any suggestions we would greatly appreciate hearing them.  I still have every rotten Review I’ve ever made on my hard drive and will upload them to a new site as soon as one is located. I cannot thank you enough for your support over the four years, Hell, almost FIVE years now,  since we began The Trash Cinema Collective. We will continue business a usual and the latest, enormously ambitious episode of “The Primal Root’s Rotten Review”  is still in the works and will hopefully see the light of day very soon.

Please be patient with us and send your suggestions our way. Thank you again for staying by our side.

Stay Trashy!

-Root

Jason Die

05
Nov
12

Uncle Grumpyfuk Remembers ‘Blood Feast’ (1963)

Unkce Grumpyfuk Remembers…

..Ugh..BUURRRPPP! …oh mighty Crom whisk away my poor hungover soul to thy grim grey mountain abode or let me find that damn pill bottle full of cricket legs! Urp,whew, yer ol’ pal Uncle Grumpyfuk comin’ atcha with some serious peach-fuzz on the brain this ..afternoon, shit. Me and a couple of buddies ..rather, a couple of buddies and I, ahem, had some unusually good fortune last night ..and earlier this morning, wait, what time is it? Uh, nevermind..time is…(eyes cross)..uh, give me a few minutes folks. I know you’ve been there. Buuurrp!

  I and my buddy Tangletoe and a fucking crazyass Irish ginger buddy of his…I’ll remember his name in a minute, were sitting in Tangle’s old truck hammering ‘fuckuppers’- Old Ezra Sour Mash Whiskey, Mountain Dew and 14 Sugar Pops -yep the cereal, crushed and stirred in, and a dash of tobasco. Talk about a drink that’ll put fire in your belly and get you going like a handfull of speed! We were listening to the radio and lo and behold, that the local boring shitty rock station was having a ‘beach party’ down at Lake Fornication today at noon so we figured fuck it, let’s pop some more Valium, head down there early and start the party ..13 hours ahead of time! Yee-haw!
  We found our way to the landing around midnight and what did our eyes behold but a party tent already set up under which lay 10 kegs of cold beer and 12 bushels of raw oysters, on ice, and a wasted hippy couple standing around a nice bonfire drinking beer and eating oysters,motioning for us to join the party, aaaand we did..post haste! Ugh, buurp. It was surreal, the radio station had obviously set everything up the night before so they wouldn’t have to in the morning and the braindead dj’s didn’t have the sense to leave someone to guard it! Deerrp! ..and to think those people can drive..and vote! Scary.
  Anyway the hippies left after about an hour or so, so the three of us stood there in front of a roaring fire,drinking and chowing down, having truly found our personal Shangri-la. A little while later,no idea how long, heh, we hear a distant mechanical growl and soon around 8-10 bikers and their old ladies roared up. We encouraged them to join us drinking free beer and eating free oysters,they finally caved after about .12 seconds and the ‘beach party’ was awn! So we sat there for several hours drinking and eating and trading stories of getting busted and wasted, of smashing rival gang members’ heads in with bricks and collecting comic books. At one point one of them saw me drooling at his skanky old lady’s tits so he let me screw her from behind for my 12.00 pocket knife. Let me tell you, whoever says that bikers aren’t good people has never gotten wasted with them and screwed one of their old ladies doggie-style! Hell, she even let Tangletoe and Sanchez,that’s it! Sanchez! …let Tangle and Sanchez have a go just because they were standing there watching! That’s a real woman for you, by cracky!
  Well I guess it was close to 6:00 AM when Tangle and I finally left. Sanchez stayed around for more and the bikers hadn’t slowed down a hair either! When we pulled out of there 2 kegs were empty and a third had been tapped, and almost 4 bushells of oysters had magically disappeared. It was amazing, in over 6 hours not one other person had come by, no cops, no one from the radio station, no other drunken partiers, no one. Shangri-la folks, seriously! After we got home I staggered down the street towards my duplex but felt those oysters wanting to see the light of day again, so, I lurched over to a hated neighbor’s Volvo and puked in the open window all over her upholstery. Ha-ha-ha! We wanted to listen to the radio station this morning to see if they mentioned going out and finding they’d missed their own party, but we totally passed out! Ha! ***
   Today my dear fiends, Uncle Grumpyfuk is proud, nay, honored and humbled to review a pivital film in trash cinema history. This is a film that horrified audiences and changed the art of film forever more..for the better! Fuckin’ay! I speak of one, some say the greatest of the Unholy Trilogy of the legendary Herschell Gordon Lewis, starring our favorite Playboy centerfold Connie Mason! Yes Mrs. Freemont it is exciting! Ha-ha-ha! …ah but I get ahead of myself. Yes my friends, I speak of the drive-in classic, the one and only, “Bloodfeast”! Yes, yes …(over 7 minutes of thunderous applause erupts, finally the din quiets a bit).. yes, thank you, I know, my genitals are covered with anticipatory sweat too. I shall strive to do my very best to honor the King of Gore and one of his masterpieces – I never have been able to decide whether I think this or 2000 Maniacs is better…AND Gruesome Twosome…I-I don’t know… I just love them all so much! (applause) Yes,we all do. Thank you, thank you.
  The film opens with a tense kettle drum beat and we see none other than Barbara Handler, daughter of the creator of the Barbie Doll, who named it after her! It’s her, I’m totally serious. I swear on your children’s’ future graves it’s her! ..Well ok it’s not her, but just look at’er! She’s the spit and image! You just want to pull her head off and give it to the family dog and pour lighter fluid on her body and set it ablaze! Damn!
  Anyway she turns on the radio as a report of ‘another murder’, that a girl was found ‘brutally mutilated’ and that all females should stay in after dark. The news ends and she strips her clothes off – tasty, and gets into a bubblebath. Now that is a great opening to any film, regardless of genre. She’s a scrub-dub-dubbin’ away, getting Miss Puss all nice and clean when she’s shocked to look up and see the psychotic eyes and dashing features of the protagonist of the film, one of your favorite actors, and mine; Mal Arnold! Yaaay! .. STAND AND APPLAUD you pisswipes!!! This man is the walking breathing definition of a cult star! ..well he’s no longer walking or breathing since he croaked but seriously you should applaud, I mean fuck. (more applause) Thank you,thank you.
  He stabs Barbara in the eye and begins hacking away with a carving knife and smiles proudly at his excellent knife-work, holding up a nice bloody giblet so we can see it real good- what a considerate gesture. He has a little more fun then chops off her leg for a keepsake perhaps? ..or possibly a future piece of folk art. Suddenly the screen is filled with the image of a cheap sphinx and pyramid replica,in front of a hotel in my own home state of Florida,where this film was shot! Yaaaay! ..and the credits roll. Thank you,thank you.
  Next we find ourselves down at the pigpen in the homicide bureau chief’s office. Inside he and one of his officers, Pete, played by another “2000 Maniacs” alumni, Connie’s companion Thomas Wood – the two of whom later became married in real life for many happy years; Tom you are the fucking man! – are engaging in some riveting dialogue concerning the murdered women’s’  mutilated states, concluding that a psychological killer just might be involved. Gee, ya think?
  Now we find ourselves outside Fuad Ramses Exotic Catering where our hero Mal, or Fuad runs a grocery/catering operation. In walks a ditzy rich blonde wearing a baby harp seal around her neck and a huge flowery hat any fat old black woman would be proud to wear to church’. She approaches the counter and begins to introduce herself as Mrs Freemont when her voice is cut off by Fuad’s intense,cobra-like gaze that leaves the air-headed bird mesmerized for a short spell, such is his irresistible charisma! At this point I have to mention Mal’s hair and eyebrows; they’re more thickly matted than a sloth’s fur, sans the vermin and disease, and although they appear to be grey, his hair and eyebrows blend in with everything in the background that’s blue. Tre chic Mal! How about it folks? (applause) Thank you, thank you.
  Mrs. Freemont explains that she wishes to throw a surprise party for her daughter, something different and unusual. “What do you consider to be unusual Mrs. Freemont?” inquires Fuad. She doesn’t know of course, stupid bitch, so he delivers the classic line “Have you ever had, an EGYPTIAN FEAST?” and we get a full-on shot of Mal’s dynamic peepers, whoa. She explains her daughter is into ancient Egyptian crap and that it sounded perfect. Fuad gets payment first, then hypnotizes her again, commanding her to give him a sloppy blowjob,then ejaculates on the back of her expensive coat, so that after she left everyone pointed at the gargantuan load dripping down her back like the fucking Blob’s albino offspring,with the dingy ditz blissfully unaware. Fuad you dog-you! Am I right folks? (applause) Thank you,thank you.
  As she leaves he slinks to the back of the store, through a back door to a room where he prays to an incredibly cheesy idol of his chosen goddess Ishtar, a department store mannequin, painted with cheap make-up and sporting the most dubious expression as if she just really isn’t sure about this guy and his goings-on.
  Outside Connie reads the headlines of the daily paper, “Legs Cut Off!” Heh, we’re way ahead of them aren’t we folks? The baffled cops are still pissed and clueless.
  After night-time has set in we see a couple of young lovers laying on the beach sucking face. She’s nervous but Tony really wants some snatcheroosky,so they begin rutting when she looks up and screams. Tony was confused; he hadn’t even mentioned trying anal yet! Wtf! Then he gets a split second glance of Fuad looming over him, machete raised and ready before Fuad smashed him good, then repeats with her. He cuts off the top of her skull for a really neat cereal bowl and takes her brains to boot! ..um, I don’t mean to boot as in kick it around in the dirt, I mean,you know, ‘in addition to’…just clarifying there. Anyway the camera shows some excellent shots of her ‘Jane Mansfield Look’ and concludes by showing some blood and bloody skull fragments in the sand, and about a foot-and a-half away is a boa constrictor being pulled out of camera range by an unseen hand. ..oookay.
  The cops arrive and revive Tony who blubbers and carries on like a foreign woman, totally unable to give them any pertinent information. The performance by the actor portraying Tony is bad on a magnificant scale, Bravo,bravo- actor who played Tony! ..what’s his name? Hell I don’t know, there’s the remote,you rewind it and look it up! Shit, lazy bastards.
  Back at the station the girl’s parents are carrying on like foreign women, at least the mother is, in a truly horrendous performance. All the cops learn is that she belonged to a book club.
  The screen goes red and we see Fuad’s hand placing some meat into a bloody pot and then he gives it a stir. Yummy! ..oooh Uncle Fuad when’s it gonna be ready? I’ze so hungry! Haw-haw-haw! What a knucklehead!
     Next we’re outside the hotel again,I mean apartment building just in time to see a sweet convertible pull up and out climb Abe Vigoda and Doris Day – it’s them I swear! 😉 – four sheets to the wind drunk. They manage to make it upstairs to her apartment door, she ‘gets a headache’, so he heads back down to the car and ends up falling asleep spanking his monkey. Two hours later the police arrive to find him, slimy cock still in hand, snoring away. Take it from yer Uncle, that is SO embarrassing!..though my paw thought it was hilarious. Hmph!
   Well while Abe is slappin’ the sloth who appears peeping around the corner? Yeppers, that devil-may-care kinda guy, our Fuad, up to his shenanegans. He knocks and Doris opens the door, thinking it’s Abe with more booze and one of the most shocking scenes in film history,up to that point anyway, takes place. Fuad reaches into Doris’ mouth and rips out her tongue and once again generously holds it up for our inspection. It’s every bit as awesome as it sounds. It’s said that when Cecil B. DeMille viewed that scene he puked his guts out; talk about a compliment! Damn! Actually it was a sheep’s tongue,but that’s irrelevant, and when Fuad held it up for those 60’s audiences to see they fucking freaked out! I know,you’re envious too, it must have been pure bliss.
  The next scene is priceless. Connie and her mom are at home talking in the living room, discussing the upcoming surprise party and it’s easy to see that Connie is reading all of her lines off of cue cards placed around the room. ” I just shudder when I think about that butcher… that maniac,butchering all of those girls!” That’s a keeper there boys! What a woman,whew, down boy.
  That evening Connie and the cop, we’ll call him Maxwell Notsosmart, attend a lecture on ancient Egypt,the orator’s subject being ancient cults, namely the cult of Ishtar; priestesses, virgins, sacrifices, orgies, dirty rabble – some bloody fun times back then but talk about hazing, geez! As he speaks we get a flashback from those ancient times, of an ancient high priest, who turns out to be our own Mal Arnold again,showing his versatility by playing multiple roles! Thank you,thank you. A female sacrifice lays prostrate on the altar, Mal the high priest offers the sacrifice to Ishtar and places the handle of a plastic knife on her chest! He then quickly pulls it away and attaches a plastic blade with red paint on it and cuts out the girls bloody heart! Barbaric! Oh, and the boa constrictor is back hanging around the scene …but that’s why they call them the good old days folks. Now you point a fucking bb gun at someone’s ass and the feds put the whole fucking nation on magenta alert and declare martial law!
 After the lecture Connie and Maxwell go a-parking. Yay-yuh! He leans back and relaxes while she goes to town on that pole, slobber flying everywhere,showing how she got that Playboy gig! 😉 Heff you suck so badly..you fucking boss!!! Suddenly a radio bulletin interupts the suckfest and announces that another mutilated chick was found somewhere,or something. Pressed for time Maxwell says ‘fuck it’, grabs two handfulls of that golden hair,wraps it around his throbbing manhood and jerks off on top of her head. They teach’em that in cop school. It’s ok, Connie was totally up for it.
  Back at the station Chief tells Maxwell that the girl is still alive though her face looks like she made out with a weed eater. They race to the hospital and after the doctor tells them not to get her excited,they punch her in the stomach and slap her a few times to wake her up and answer a few questions. She tells them it was a wild eyed, wild looking old man who said ‘it was for Eetar, Eetar!’, so they put out an APB for Christopher Lloyd. Then she croaks and it’s really,really funny. I mean it’s a film so of course it’s funny when someone dies,but when she exhales her last breath and falls down,so much dogfood, there’s a little ‘Womp!’ from a trombone,signalling that she’s gone. It’s downright hysterical!
 You know,one thinks sometimes what we’d do differently had we created the universe ourselves, like give sea turtles the ability to breathe fire, or shrink all of the assholes to 4″ in height,to be preyed upon by insects and frogs, give eternal life to the members of Motorhead,that type of thing. It really is an ingenius idea,having it so whenever someone dies, have a little fart-like trombone sound effect signify that life has passed from the mortal shell. ‘Womp.’ “Well,he’s gone..heh-heh-heh.” That would be so fucking funny!
  At the grocery store Fuad opens a letter; an order from Connie for his book, “Ancient Weird Religious Rights”, otherwise known at the AA Handbook, a copy of which each victim has owned. Hmm. He calls and realizes Connie is Mrs. Freemont’s daughter,for whom he’s preparing the banquet! It seems he thinks the feast and sacrifice will bring Ishtar back to life. You never know, Uncle Grumpyfuk says it’s worth a try! Things are just going too well for him and his sly demeanor as he hangs up the phone is truly Oscar worthy. Notice the hair blending in with the blue items behind it? So cool, isn’t it folks? Mal Arnold ladies and gentlemen. (applause) Thank you, thank you.
  Connie and her friends are over at her house enjoying her swimming pool and Connie, now get this, is reading a book! I shit you not. She looks down and reads a page then laughs and it’s like her skull is made of rice paper and we can see her very thoughts. “Words are funny! ..and when you put them together they mean things!” Yep, a real keeper- lucky-ass Maxwell! As she’s looking at the pictures we see the shadow of a menacing hand float over her  body,but when she looks she sees nothing. When we look we see Fuad, right over there, climbing slowly and clumsily over the wall then limping away slowly. He’s like,right there. A keeper folks.
  One of her friends decides to go shopping at Xmart to see if there are any larger dildos than her own available (there aren’t). Connie makes sure to warn her to about not getting her head bashed in by the killer-at-large,but she gets it mixed up and as she’s walking down the sidewalk, Fuad sneaks up behind her in broad daylight, and bashes her head in with a rock. Her reaction when hit is as hilarious as watching Mal try to pick her lard-ass up and carry her off to the crock-pot! That’s how you injure your back by the way folks, that is what henchmen are for,for goodness sake, to do the heavy lifting! Fuad is a ‘One Wolf’ kinda guy though so, no-go. His really fakey limp doesn’t help.
The cops can’t find Lloyd. Connie invites Maxwell to her mom’s feast of Ishtar, he secretly hopes for the six days of rapine and gluttony but knows better. Dern it.
  Fuad is adding more meat to the pot, wink, and gives Connie’s friend a good whipping with the ol’ cat’o nine tails until acheiving a disappointing orgasm. (applause) Thank you, thank you.
  Maxwell sits at his desk at the office, repeating “Eetar, Ishtar, Eetar, Ishtar…”, he thinks it would make a pretty cool song! After a few he and Chief get hungry so they head over to Fuad’s for some grub, arriving just after Fuad left with the ‘feast’. They go in and find Connie’s friend and it looks like the makeup guy sat there and dripped fake blood over every inch of her body,very cool. Realizing they’re too late,they smell the delicious aroma from Fuad’s cooking and head over to the Freemont residence,stomachs a-growling!
  Fuad has arrived already and with great flourish announces that the banquet is about to begin, and requests that Connie assist him in the kitchen. If all goes well Fuad thinks, he can perform the sacrifice and still get home in time for ‘F-Troop’ reruns! Connie can’t remember to do anything right so by the time Fuad finally gets her in position in comes mom just in time to prevent him from bringing to life the great goddess Ishtar! Damn it I wanted to see if that was going to work! Stupid bitch. The cops arrive, tell everyone that Fuad is the killer, that Connie’s friend was the main course and Mrs Freemont wisely sums it up; “Well I guess we’ll have to have hamburger for dinner!” – extra cheese on mine please!
  Fuad takes off with the cops hot on his tail, through the neighborhood, across the nearby landfill, I bet it smelled nice filming on that location! Fuad manages to reach a trash truck that’s just leaving and jumps in the back,only to be crushed to death by the merciless jaws of the trash compactor. It’s a tragic and sombre moment. Maxwell then explains to Chief in lengthy, unnecessary detail how he brilliantly realized that Eetar and Ishtar sounded similar! The Chief doesn’t look too bright though so perhaps it was necessary to draw it all out for him. The End. (thunderous applause erupts and continues for several minutes) Thank you, thank you.
  Well that wraps it up folks, a true classic that is now 50 years old, hard to believe, and it still holds it’s own – the sign of a true masterpiece. Uncle Grumpyfuk hopes you vermin have enjoyed this one,I endeavored to do Herschell Gordon Lewis’ masterpiece justice, I pray to Crom I have succeeded, so this is yer ol’ pal Uncle Grumpyfuk signin’ off until next time!

Connie Mason: You Read About Her in Playboy!

06
Oct
12

Uncle Grumpyfuk Remembers The Drive-In Massacre

an Uncle Grumpyfuk Review

…(sound of feet running)…huff-puff, huff-puff…whew, I think I lost them…huff-puff, huff-puff … I’ll just -SHIT!… Oh, whew! Hey there folks, huff-puff,you startled me, thought you were..huff, someone else! Yer ol’ pal Uncle Grumpyfuk here, just been doing a little jogging, and sprinting, down the street, through the alleyway, down through the hole in the fence and across that sewer pipe, just trying to put as much distance between myself and that angry crowd from that mosque. Can you believe someone had the audacity to spray paint “Gabba, Durka, Hey! You fucking towelheads!” on the front of the building, and around back the scoundrel rendered an illustration of a group of cute little dripping vaginas holding Mohammed prostrate on the ground while the 220 lb. grandpiglet of Arnold from Green Acres ravaged his bleeding bunghole with it’s monstrous curly-cue weenie! (I myself thought that was an excellent observation of reality by the artist,er, vandal!) Now what kind of racist, blasphemous infidel would… (sound of angry voices close by increase in volume then fade into the distance) …would think of such a creative..I mean offensive act! – Sorry about the whispering but ol’ Grumpy’s going to chill in this refrigerator box for a little while until things cool down- I certainly wouldn’t want to be mistaken for the dashing,I mean dastardly villain responsible for such unconscionable vandalism! No siree, these testicles enjoy remaining attached right here!

 
Hmm, well now seems as good a time as any to review another classic piece of cinematic offal from 1977, “Drive-in Massacre” – one of Uncle Grumpyfuk’s many favorites!

 


Now, for you poor unfortunate youngsters who,when growing up, were deprived of enjoying an endangered American institution, the drive-in theatre, to which I can only say, “Ha,ha! It fucking rocked! Woo!” Drive-in theatres were,and the few that remain are, the fucking bomb! Taking in a double-feature of what are now iconic classics of the silver screen, such as “Bloodfeast” and “2000 Maniacs”, “Texas Chainsaw Massacre” and “I Spit on Your Grave”, “Eraserhead” and “Annie Hall”, or on special occasions you’d have film fests which would play until the late hours of the morning. In addition you had the privilege of watching the films in your own. or parents’ vehicle, the bigger the better! Why, you could smuggle in just about anything the imagination could come up with; coolers full of booze, large bags of drugs, at least one member of your party, explosives, movie cameras for filming couples or blackmailing workmates, sigh, what has happened to this poor land?  How many wild smog-outs, popped cherries, murders and other unforgettable memories were made in the parking spaces of the drive-in one can only guess.  However nothing good lasts with the brigades of control-freak do-gooders, fat-fuck cops and military zombies, slimy local politicians and church groups- the true scourge of this land, ready to tear down and destroy what little is left of anything that is truly worth keeping. Let this be a lesson and a message for all of those youths  aspiring to be a member of one of these groups that are responsible for totally fucking up our society and planet with their girly sensitivities and sucker mentalities – Go fucking kills yourselves right now, I mean right now, or join fucking the hari krishnas,they’ll put you in your place. Uncle Grumpyfuk is serious…you think I’m not? …hmm, it smells like spray paint in here…

 

As our film begins with shots and scenes of the drive-in by day, empty, quiet, peaceful, a happy place but the tranquility is broken as the caption appears across the screen, ” On August 10 in a California Drive-in it all began…”, we figure someone got their girlfriend knocked up. As evening closes in the cars full of horny and soon-to-be intoxicated patrons begin to pour in. At the front gate a couple take tickets and the male, a bald guy in a jacket that could only have been worn in the 70s displays a negative vibe towards his young clientelle, go figure!

 
We’re then assaulted by one of the worst movie themes, some warbling hippie sloppily spewing garble about, you know, ‘nothing and everything’, it’s enough to make your teeth hurt, though it would make a good ringtone.  As the spaces fill up we focus on a couple locking lips who actually decide to make a baby there and then, like, intentionally! That might be a first,the intentional part that is.. however before penetration the guy wants to listen to the beginning of the film for some odd reason – maybe listening to Gabby Hayes gives him a hardon or something,I don’t know. As he’s reaching out the window for the speaker which is about 6 ft away, a familiar thing at drive-ins,heh, a hand bearing a sword raises up and flashes down; whoosh, off goes Romeo’s head. His sex-slave inside notices that he suddenly feels 8-10 lbs lighter all of a sudden and wonders if he already shot his load but then sees why. “Not again!!!” she thinks, this being the fourth guy she’s dated that had his head chopped off and she wonders if she’ll EVER have a baby! As she let’s out a shriek of frustration and horror the sword cuts off her scream, literally and she falls partially out of the car, hanging upside down with her life’s blood oozing down her face. Nice touch, I like it!

 

We flash to the police station where a tubby officer reads a novelty newspaper with the headline “Couple slain in Drive-in!” -or something close to that, yer Uncle was momentarily distracted by a sudden methane seapage that went on for several seconds, two belt-holes worth! (Whew, you wouldn’t think Yorkie would be so gamey..burp!) The porcine policeman and his equally stout partner head out to the Drive-in to investigate.

 
When they arrive they talk with the manager Austin Johnson whom the chubby copper’s partner describes as a ‘perfect asshole’, high praise indeed, we’ll certainly have to be the judge of that! Actually he is just that, the actor portraying Austin has the asshole act down perfectly, “So a bunch of horny kids get themselves chopped up by some kook. So what?” … indeed!  He also refers to teenagers as ‘zits with long hair’, I love this guy! Coincidentally he turns out to be the skinhead we saw earlier taking tickets and ragging on the customers- the cool guy, remember? He tells the cops all about what a shitfarm his job and life are, and as they’re about to retreat in revulsion they spot his janitor/security gimp, Gormy. Gormy tells the cops that his friends call him Germy, his friends who were elephants at the carnival that has once stood on the same premises. The fucking elephants called him Germy…oooook. ( circles forefinger around ear) Yeah. We learn ol’ Germy was the geek at the carnival- the brain-stunted individual who knew no shame and would demonstrate it by biting the heads off of snakes, chickens, other small animals, and committing other similar acts of depravity. Ah, the glorious days before PETA… anyway,that was entertainment folks, sigh. He also seconded as the carnival’s sword swallower, heh, no jokes folks, that one is too easy. Now poor Germy is a bit teched in the head after some kind of ‘accident’, we never get a clue on that one dern it! The imagination runs wild.
 

Germy babbles on and on to the cops, unwittingly giving them a few leads and I must say at this point the actor who plays Germy, Douglas Gudbye, I know,I know, anyway he’s really great. He’s got the simpleton act down pat,some really convincing simp acting, bravo. Actually the two actors playing the pigs were also well cast. They looked the part and are very convincing as well, hey, I’m trying to be all critical and shit,right? Uncle Grumpyfuck doesn’t mind giving credit where credit’s due… sometimes! Austin tells the filthy gimp to …whoa*…to get to work, but not before the cops tell Germy it’s cool to be a lousy rat-bastard, “..so squeal on one of the theatre regulars would ya?” Typical.    * (geek + simp = gimp? could that be the origin of the term?!?)

 

   The next night at the crowded theatre we focus on a couple who is arguing in the car – he’s married with kids but he’s knocked up his mistress,so after careful consideration he says “Fuck the wife and kids!” and decides to leave them and go with the mistress. Normally I’d say good choice but she’s knocked up so he’s just jumping from one frying pain into another. Some guys don’t learn,and to think a clothes hanger is all it takes! Little do the couple know however is that in the car next to theirs is a creeper. He squats between the cars and peeps through the window at their sweaty rutting while whacking his porcupine, ye-haw! All of a sudden a sword plunges straight through the couple, through BOTH of them and we think, damn, that’s one strong motherfucker!
         The cops are baffled,naturally, and bring Germy back in for more grilling. He informs them that Austin also used to be a sword/knife man in the carnival and that he enjoyed it as much as he enjoys life in general nowadays. Yeesh. He then squeals and gives the cops the license plate of the creeper so they take off to investigate without giving Germy a single buck or rock of crack for his squealing! What a simp.
  The cops hit the creeper’s pad and put the thumbscrews to him after he acts as nervous and squirrelly as you could want, gotta keep cool in those situation folks! He cracks and admits he’s just a dick jackin’ peeping Tom, you believe it. They find a bloody towel which turns out to be dogs blood and you think damn, homey’s into some fucked up extracurricular activities!
          Back at the drive-in that evening the creeper is back at it, not too bright, and the cops are a-watchin’ from an undercover car, one hilariously in drag! The creeper is watching a couple in the car beside his who are of two different minds; he wants some fucking tail and she wants to watch the movie,gazing lovingly at it like it’s all sweet and romantic when it sounds like “Moonshine Mama”! He heads to the concession stand for some Milk Duds, unable to eat the dud in the car, heh! Too bad, she was totally edible- nice nipple shot there thank you very much!
       The Keystone Law Enforcement Guys get momentarily distracted while the poor guy gets back into the car to find his temperamental girlfriend has lost her head, literally! The cops run over but when they turn to nab the creeper he’s been stabbed too! WTF?!? This killer is slicker than snot! I smell the work of a ninja, Lee Van Cleef must be close.
 BTW, at this point a couple of observations; we’ve seen nothing of the killer that gives us any clue as to their identity and when you think of it there is no lead actor or lead actress, just a bunch of people doing shit, like Seinfeld would have been if it had simply been called ‘Apt. Building Full of Smelly Israelites’.
  Back at the station the piggies are trying to grill Austin but he’s giving them holy hell like a fucking boss! He gives the cops shit about letting 2 murders occur under their very noses, fires Germy on the spot, refuses to close the drive-in, then walks out like Travolta’s homo ass in the beginning of that disco movie he was in… Bee-Gee Bungfest or something like that. Austin is the fucking man my friends! I ever get a license to run that daycare center, I want a manager just like him.
           Next we see poor Germy walking around in friggin’ La-la Land, imagining the bright lights, the happy people, and the other long-gone sights,sounds and smells of the carnival. I mean bro is trippin’ big time! It would have been funny if they’d included a shot of him weaving around the empty parking lot, looking at crap that wasn’t there, running into the speaker poles, ha! You almost feel sorry for the simp…ha,ha,ha,yeah right.
 The cops receive a call that some goofy LARPer has gone amok with his Topaz Sword of Ice, or K-mart machete, depending on your point of view, and is holding a maiden hostage. They head out, assured that this is the culprit…and we see where this is going! Heh-heh-heh! At the warehouse Larry the Cable Guy has had one crappyass American beer too many and tells his cute hostage how he’s going to ‘cut all the meanness out of her’, what a considerate guy! Seriously this guy is deeper into La-la Land that Germy! The girl gets free and hides,the cops arrive and quickly blow his ass away, as if the outcome is ever any different,but then the girl drops the bomb on them – this is her father that just escaped from the nuthouse, wrong guy! Whoopsie-daisy! Well what’s one less fruitcake in California,right? Right.
           They then head back to the drive-in and arrive just in time to see,on the screen, the gigantic silhouette of Austin getting stabbed and then one little hack, two little hacks and three,off goes the head, very creative and such an easy effect! The hysterical ticket girl tells them Austin and Germy are inside,they burst in to see the mangled body of Austin which causes them all to laugh and laugh and laugh! So long asshole! They kick in the door of the other room only to find Germy has been hacked up as well,with no one else in the building, no other way out and… that’s it! The end! No murderer or anything, just a caption telling of other similar instances of drive-in murders across the country and then the manager’s voice comes over the loudspeaker and tells that there’s a murderer in the theatre now! Run!!! …yeah…. Fuck I love this film, if you don’t you’re more retarded than Germy.
 Well things have been quiet for a good while now so Uncle Grumpyfuk is going to chance heading back to the hacienda. I’ve got the trusty brass knucks and bear mace just in case I run into trouble so we’ll see you next time folks, take care!
17
Sep
11

Creature: Of Alligators and Incest

a Primal Root written review

Those who know me also know Drive-In Critic Joe Bob Briggs is pretty much my icon. My hero. The man I look up to as my role model. And those who know Joe Bob Briggs are well aware that he’s broken down the formula that makes a B-Movie worth out time. The elements are the fabled, legendary, Three B’s. That is: Blood, Breasts and Beasts. My entire life this has proven to be the key to my enjoyment of a bad movie. As long as those three ingredients are there I’m not bored.

And then I saw the recent film, “Creature”.  A southern fried monster tale about a mean tempered, horny, century old alligator man who rules over a stinky, tobacco stained Louisiana swamp land looking for a place his slimy gator seed can take purchase. Lucky for him, three supernaturally idiotic marines, two of whom bring along their girlfriends and one who brings along his in heat, hooter flashing sister,  have decided to head out into the swamp in search of a death trap, excuse me, I mean…tourist trap.

Who will survive and who gives a shit?

The six attractive younguns stop by a local gas station called Captain Spaulding’s Museum of Monsters and…oh shit, no, wait, it’s just called Chopper’s and is run by…Chopper played by Sid Haig. His little gas station/general store also happens to be a bit of a  museum honoring the local legend…Lockjaw, the malevolent Alligator man who lives in the swamps.  Anyway, Chopper tells them a little bit of the legend, gives them directions (any of this sound familiar?) and the kids head off to go die after flashing their tits and drinking some wine.

It’s a familiar set up and the whole film feels like a brain damaged cross breeding of Rob Zombie’s House of 1,000 Corpses and Adam Green’s Hatchet. I know both of those films have achieved cult status ( The former of which I can understand. The latter? Not so much…) and I am sure this horror abomination will fit snugly amongst that cannon as an interesting side note to that strange slasher fan boy genre birthed early this century.

Might as well kiss that ass goodbye...

It’s that backwoods hillbilly genre that really took off during the naughties with independent horror. From Wrong Turns, to Devil’s Rejects to Texas Chainsaw Massacre reboots, everyone was digging on uneducated, blood thirsty, backwoods, gut munchers. Hell, that resurgence took hold even before that whole Saw franchise flooded the market with torture horror. However, this trashy flick, “Creature”, pulls one aspect of these films that’s typically only touvhed upon and forces it out there into the spotlight for the audience to take a long, creeped out look at. And that element is the wonderful world of incest.

Yes, incest. I know the old southern saying, “The closer the kin, the deeper in” but this flick takes that sentiment to whole different level. Remember when I told you one of the marines brought his red headed, libido of a rabbit, sister along? Well, when her attempts at date raping one of her brother’s friend’s girlfriends doesn’t work out she finds her brother…and gives him a sloppy handjob in the middle of the swamp and then complains that he now can’t fuck her with his wet noodle.  It’s awkward, to say the least and luckily Sid Haig rushes onto the scene and punches her square in the nose before things can escalate.  Being an only child, I’m not sure if this is how regular brother and sisters, umm, handle one another. They never really touched on this sort of thing on Family Matters or Step by Step.

Anyway, the incestuous sister’s got a date with that wild man bachelor known as Lockjaw!

Lockjaw finds the scent of Herbal Essence hard to resist.

Yes, the eternally wet, red head, incestuous sister is pulling a double header tonight and is now bound, gagged, and ordered to fuck a giant gator man. So, bestiality is now entering the equation in “Creature. But, see, she can only bump uglies with Lockjaw once her feet are hacked off. …the Hell? If someone could explain to me why in the word that is necessary I would greatly appreciate it. I don’t know why in the world they felt the need to make the plot of this thing so damn convoluted and jam as many rules  and oddly out of place plot twists as they could when none of it really goes anywhere.

It’s such a basic story. You have a Gator Man looking for love. A pack of attractive twenty-somethings, three of which possess the proper genitals, wonder into his home turf. The movie practically writes itself and would have been a riot if they had kept it simple, fast paced and FUN! Whoever wrote this thing just bogs the movie down with weird side tracks and sub plots and meaningless stretches of dialog that aren’t funny, don’t mean anything within the context of the movie and advance nothing. It’s as if they were struggling to make this thing feature length and just didn’t know what to do. The movie’s run time is 93 minutes but it feels like it goes on for over two hours as scenes drag into nothing over and over again with neither a payoff or anything that enhances the story.

Daphne and Velma share a tender moment on their latest kooky caper!

HOWEVER! The film does feature a ton of nudity! Three gratuitously displayed pairs of lovely lady breasts and even some in your face full frontal female flesh(Breasts, Buns AND BUSH! Booger would be pleased.) for the audience to ogle in the very opening of the film. This poor, totally naked woman has no lines, is completely nude and is killed and out of the movie in about 5 minutes time. I guess it’s a bad idea to go skinny dipping in a gator/rapey flesh eating Hell beast infested swamp. I am looking forward to her next project because in these 5 minutes Jennifer Lynn Warren won my heart and is one of the most memorable elements of the movie. Being naked as a jay bird certainly didn’t hurt…

The gore is a little lacking. I was expecting a bit more in a film about Lockjaw the Gator Boy who leaves a little to be desired as well.  The creature effects are great and all but I couldn’t help but notice how the monster looks almost identical to the Koopa’s from the live action Super Mario Brothers movie. Yet, the fellow inside this creature suit does a great job bringing it to life and making the most of it. He possess, stalks and attacks like a pro. Sadly, we are never treated to a Lockjaw sex scene. SEE! Now that would have been entertaining! And we do get undeniable proof that such a scenario did occur at some point in the movie, but for whatever reason, we aren’t treated to that moment of pure animal-man on woman horror. Eh, maybe in the direct to video sequel starring Bill Moseley? Only time will tell.

"I Shouldn't Be Alive" New Season Begins This Fall

And they never did explain the regenerative properties of the swamp itself that a man could get shot square in the knee with a rifle then run on that leg for the next thirty minutes of the movie and not even limp. Well, maybe it’s just because he’s a marine? Either way, this might be my favorite unintentionally funny aspect of the film. How much the lead character gets shot, stabbed, and repeatedly crushed and beaten mercilessly by Lockjaw. Including one excruciatingly long slow motion sequence towards the end of the film where Lockjaw repeatedly pounds full force on the character’s sternum and ribs, and then, seconds after the attack, the character can simply get up and walk it off.  I always thoroughly enjoy that sort of stupid shit in trashy films. There’s also a pretty hysterical spider attack sequence where a guy gets pounced by tarantulas and then treats the bites with…bottled water?

I just wish there had been more of that fun, dumb, stuff to tide me over in between scenes of nonsensical redneck banter, jewelry gifting, potato chip scavenging,  and boyfriends getting upset because his girlfriend is getting naked in a tent and making out with another sexy woman looking to get a threesome going. Who ARE these people?

“Creature” has a whole lot of promise and I was eager to take the trip it so obviously wanted to deliver. But somewhere along the way it seems the whole thing got lost, forgot where it left it’s fun, Drive-In, B-Movie spirit and left us imagining all the awesomeness that could have been. “Creature’s” heart is in the right place and the filmmakers obviously have an affection for Trash Cinema. I mean, it was director Fred Andrews first time at bat, so I will cut him some slack. I just hope that the next film he delivers is a bit more streamlined and heavier on the sick, demented fun.

As Joe Bob might say, there’s just too much dang plot getting in the way of the story!

Stay Trashy!

-Root

And, yes, that’s Eggs from the second season of True Blood.

04
Mar
11

Drive Angry, That Old Drive-In Spirit

a Primal Root Written Review

“I could shoot you in the throat and watch you gurgle as I eat my morning grapefruit.” – Jonah King, Drive Angry

I was only recently even made aware of this theatrically released cheese-ball action flick after someone sent me the red band trailer. I saw cars, explosions, fights, tits, guns and Nicolas Cage, a man whose acting prowess I have come to dislike so much and whose choices of acting roles perplex me so that he has become a bit of a cult icon to me. And all of these elements were rolled in to bizarre concoction entitled Drive Angry. And this sucker was going to be in 3D. I was sold.

As I looked intot he film more I realized this flick is a collaboration between the same writer and director who brought us the tons of fun 3D schlock fest, My Blood Valentine 3D, Todd Farmer and Patrick Lussier. Sure, Todd Farmer also wrote Jason X which sucks cocks in Hell and, let’s face it, My Bloody Valentine isn’t much more than the sum of it’s assemblage of cool gore effects…

But Drive Angry promises something totally different. It’s not a remake or a sequel to a well established horror franchise. This is something else entirely. It’s an original film that works as hellishly fun tip of the hat the the very best of cheap-o 42nd street cinema and late 80’s action extravaganzas. It’s like a Frankenstein monster assembled from still very entertaining and classic parts from favorite cult hits from years gone by. There’s badass fight scenes.greasy spoon diners populated by gross, touchy feely chefs and foul mouthed flirty waitresses. Hardcore Hotrods. Blood drenched shoot outs. A tough as nails chick who knows how to fight like a tigress. A quiet stranger dressed in black that everyone wants dead. Tons of nudity and a fucking brilliant sex shoot out scene that plays like the similar scene from 07;s Shoot ‘Em Up on Jolt Cola.  And even a satanic cult led by a molesty, necrophiliac, baby killing, scumbag sans penis played by Bella’s Dad from the Twilight series.

Someone did not put the bunny back in the box.

Our film is the story of a vengeance seeking father by the name of Milton ( Nic Cage) who has escaped from Hell to avenge the murder of her daughter and save his grand child from the satanic cult who killed her lead by the villainous Jonah King (Billy Burke). He gains the help of a young woman named Piper (Amber Heard) who is a force to reckoned with as illustrated after she finds her fiance fucking a skank in their stink hole apartment. The duo head south to Louisiana where the final showdown awaits, all the while, having to duck the authorities lead by Cap (Tom Atkins, a true Trash Cinema Legend in top form here.) as well as a smooth talking, sharply dressed supernatural force known as The Accountant (played by a scene stealing William Fichtner) who might be one of the coolest anti-heroes in recent memory.

The Accountant: Redefining awesome on a scene by scene basis.

Drive Angry has it all and, man, it’s just so goddamn tasty. It’s jam packed with that old Drive-In spirit fueled by excess and meaning to do nothing more than deliver the goods and entertain it’s audience at any cost. There is something to be admired in a film that enjoys delivering the filthy, blood smeared goods without making fun of itself or those of us who love this type of flick with every faint beat of or twisted black little hearts.  And after all the thought provoking and well made films of the Award season releases,  I have to admit, it’s a load of fun to simply switch the old gray matter on cruise control and take a trip with a guilty pleasure to most like Drive Angry.

As a matter of fact, yes, she knows how to use them.

Trust me, if you enjoy the kind of films that were once readily available as double and triple bills decades earlier when you could enjoy cinema under the stars, this film is something you will eat up like so much buttery, salty concession stand popcorn. Not since Piranha 3D and Machete have I had this kind of fun at the movies.

And yes, the film does give a Special Thanks to Bill Murray and Punxsutawney Phil in the end credits.

I would gladly come back fom Hell for Ms. Amber Heard.

Stay Trashy,

-The Primal Root

08
Sep
10

Frank Henenlotter: The Trash Cinema Collective Profile

Thanks to our friends over at FromDuskTillCon.com, I got the chance to interview one of my heros, Frank Henenlotter. The creative genius behind some of my all time favorite films including Basket Case Brain Damage and Frankenhooker. He’s also responsible for helping keep trash cinema alive through Something Weird Video. Here., we take a look back at his classics, his most recent work, and what he has in store for his fans.

The Primal Root: As a young man I know you spent your formative years taking in the thrills to be had at the 42nd Street grindhouses. For those of us born far too late to take in these legendary theaters could you describe the experience for us? What was it like going to these theaters and taking in what are now beloved trashy exploitation classics?

Frank Henenlotter: Try to imagine a block in New York City in which both sides of the street were lined with movie theaters, one after another, and every one of those theaters was showing double or triple features promising sex and violence. In between the theaters was a scattering of stores, most notably porno stores (or, before the days of porn, “adult bookstores”). It was, of course, absolute paradise.

TPR:  Growing up on a steady diet of these films which titles come to mind as your major influences? What movies or filmmakers got you interested in creating your own pictures?

FH: It was all of it. Not just a couple of memorable movies, but memorable moments in hundreds and hundreds of movies. And, just as exciting as the movies, were the come-ons: the one-sheets, the photos and, most notably, plywood archways that were fitted around the entrance to the theater lobbies decorated with blown-up photos from the film, usually enhanced with painted-on blood, and simple words like “Shock!” “Lurid!” and, of course, “Sex!” Gateways to the soiled treasures unspooling within.

TPR:  The first time I saw Basket Case was on an old worn out VHS tape. I was a kid at the time and it immediately turned me into a fan of excessive violence, toilet humor and deformed freaks of nature. Needless to say, the effect was profound. What was the genesis of this project?

FH: Edgar Ievins had seen a couple of my homemade movies and suggested we do a feature-length film. And we decided to make a horror film since that seemed commercially safe at the time. Meaning, no matter how bad it turned out, it could at least play 42nd Street.

TPR:  What still amazes me about Basket Case when I go back and watch it is not only how well it holds up but there’s still a very touching emotional core to the film. Basket Case is a film with a lot of heart. Was this part of your plan all along or did it develop as the movie went into production?

FH: It wasn’t really a plan. I just had a good visual in mind: a man carrying around a basket from which a monster would leap out when people opened it. The trouble was, *why*? Why would anyone carry around a monster in a basket? One night, while eating hot dogs in a Nathan’s in Times Square, it occurred to me that maybe they were brothers. That provided the answer and the hook and whatever emotion the film has.

TPR: Rex Reed’s quote from his review of Basket Case, “The Sickest movie I have ever seen…” was used in the marketing campaign for the film itself which was a stroke of genius. Was this your idea to turn what some might call bad publicity into a selling point?

FH: I had nothing to do with that. Analysis Films, the first distributor of Basket Case, had a good relationship with Reed and simply asked him for a quote since they knew he had seen the film at Cannes. And he provided that quote which, of course, was a great one.

TPR:  Some have said Basket Case was the last great Drive-In / Grindhouse film. Did you have the pleasure of watching your film with a 42nd Street crowd? How was the experience?

FH: By the time Basket Case played 42nd Street it had already been in release for two and a half years on the midnight circuit, and slowly playing around the country for another two years, and I was sick of seeing it so I didn’t see it play on The Street. Instead, I was thrilled with how the theater was dressed with a garish plywood archway, full of spattered blood, which also gave away the plot: “His brother is a deformed twin!”

TPR:  Kevin Van Hentenryck is really a stand-out as Duane. He makes the character completely believable despite his insane predicament. Did Kevin get the character right away? What kind of direction did you give him?

FH: Kevin immediately got the character of Duane. I don’t remember giving Duane must direction other than us working out individual shots and bits of business. He nailed Duane immediately and I remember constantly chuckling at how hilariously innocent he played him.

TPR: I’ve heard rumors that your crew walked off the set during the filming of one of Basket Case’s more grisly scenes. What exactly happened? Have you ever had to deal with a crew walking off the set since?

FH: Yeah, that’s true. We were shooting the scene where the monster humps the girl at the end. At first, nobody on the crew seemed to be bothered by it. Actually, just the opposite since Terri Susan Smith was lying there naked. But when I added the blood to Miss Smith’s groin, everyone got upset and pissed off and… I don’t know. It seems as crazy now as it did then. But they ended up walking off which was fine with me ‘cause I wasn’t about to wipe the blood off. So it was shot with just me, the two actors – Terri Susan Smith and Kevin Van Hentenryck – and Edgar Ievins under the mattress making Belial work. Virtually the same thing happened on Brain Damage with the “blow job” scene. Fine. Leave the set. And while you’re at it, go fuck yourselves.

TPR: So there’s a big Basket Case reunion coming up in September as part of the Horror Realm Convention. Beverly Bonner, Kevin Van Hentenryck and Terri Susan Smith will all be attending. How long has it been since you’ve hung out with the original cast? Do you have fond memories of working on the film with this group?

FH: I’ve always stayed in touch with Kevin and Beverly. As you probably know, Beverly’s appeared in every film including the latest, Bad Biology. Earlier this year, I was even a guest in one of Beverly’s “Gloria Glitter” comedy shows which was my first and last stab at live theater. And both Kevin and Beverly came to my 60th birthday party this past August 30. I wish I was doing a project I could have them both in again.

TPR: Your follow-up film was 1988’s Brain Damage about a young man named Brian who becomes dependant on an evil, blue, well spoken parasite named Aylmer. The film packs a pretty heavy message about drug abuse and addiction while also mixing in the gory, sick, toilet humor elements that make your films so enjoyable. What was the inspiration behind Brain Damage?

FH: Well, I liked how Duane and Belial interacted and I thought I could do a variation on it, this time with a monster that lives on the young man’s body rather than in a basket. But the same question arose: why would anyone willingly let a monster live on them? Even creepier, why would someone *want* a monster living on them? Came up with dozens of reasons I hated until one day I thought of addiction, especially since I was having problems with a nasty cocaine habit.

TPR: Rick Hearst gives a tremendous performance as Brian. How did you end up casting him and how was he to work with?

FH: Frank Calo, the casting director on Brain Damage, found him and, yes, Rick was perfect. This was his first film and he nailed it beautifully especially since it wasn’t a particularly easy part to play. I’d love to see him again. These days he stars on soaps and keeps winning Emmys.

TPR: Aylmer looks to be a bit more complex than the Belial puppet from Basket Case. Did this present you with a whole slew of new challenges during the production?

FH: Belial was basically a hand puppet. But Elmer (yes, technically “Aylmer” but I’m used to calling him Elmer by now) was an animatronic puppet that was operated by various cables and levers, all put together by Davd Kindlon and Gabe Bartalos. The main problem with Elmer was that it made all sorts of metallic noises, so much so that we had to dub all the dialogue when Aylmer was onscreen. Dave and Gabe also built an oversize Elmer head for closeups.

TPR: I’ve heard rumors that some scenes were cut out of the film altogether on its initial release. What scenes were the MPAA having issues with? Is the current DVD release of the film your cut?

FH: Well, the producers wanted an alternate unrated version for vhs release. That’s why I shot the blowjob and ear pull scene. I never expected that to get an R. But when the film was acquired by Cinema Group Pictures, they hated the film, wanted nothing to do with an unrated version and, anticipating trouble with the MPAA, made a whole bunch of cuts before even submitting the film. Once the MPAA saw it, they wanted more cuts. So the theatrical version as well as the version initially released on Paramount vhs was heavily heavily cut. The version currently on dvd is, finally, the uncut unrated version.

TPR:  John Zacherle as the voice of Aylmer was a perfect piece of casting. His voice is so good-natured and disarming you can’t help but feel like you can trust the little guy. Not to mention, it also provides some comic relief. Did you have John in mind all along? What did he think of Brain Damage?

FH: While writing the script, I kept hearing the voice of veteran actor Ronald Colman – a friendly, intelligent, soothing voice that someone might blindly follow. However, Colman was long dead and certainly wouldn’t have done it even if he were still alive. So I went to an agent that specialized in voices. He asked me if I’d ever heard of Zacherly and I almost passed out. I grew up with Zacherly on TV. His show was where I watched my first horror films. I’m embarrassed that I hadn’t thought of him at first. Naturally, I jumped at working with him and it was a joy. He’s an absolute delight. So much so that I also had him do an on-screen bit in Frankenhooker. I never asked him what he thought of the film. I never ask any of the actors because… well, it’s kind of moot.

TPR: The ending of Brain Damage is still one of my favorite endings of all time. Just thinking about it gives me chills. Where did you come up with this image and how did you know this was how the film had to end?

FH: While writing the script for Brain Damage, I wasn’t sure how to end it. One night I was listening to the album Real Life by Magazine. When I heard the song “The Light Pours Out of Me,” I thought, “Yes! That’s my ending!” So you have Howard Devoto to thank for it.

TPR:  Frankenhooker is one of the sleaziest exploitation titles I’ve ever heard. So, did the title come first and then the script?

FH: Edgar Ievins and I were up at Jim Glickenhaus’ office discussing another project with him. But he thought that project was extremely uncommercial so asked me what other ideas I had. I didn’t have any other ideas so I just started making up the plot to Frankenhooker. And Jim kept laughing so I kept making it up until finally he asked me what I wanted to call it. I panicked and quickly started running titles through my head at lightning speed: “Frankenwhore? No. Frankenslut? Awful. Frankenprostitute? Hell, no. Frankenhooker? Uh… yeah! Frankenhooker!”

TPR:  When I watched Frankenhooker for the first time I couldn’t help but notice some overtones of Stuart Gordon’s Re-Animator. Was there a little bit of an influence there as well as some others?

FH: Well, I loved Re-Animator and From Beyond. But we tried to go in a non-graphic, non-bloody direction in the vain hopes of escaping an X rating. So in some ways, I was consciously going in the opposite direction of how Gordon may have done things. It was all rather pointless, of course, since the MPAA still gave Frankenhooker an X rating. In fact, they hated the film. Richard Hefner, then the head of the MPAA, famously called executive-producer Jim Glickenhaus’ office and said to his secretary, “Congratulations. You have the first film rated S.” The secretary was confused, “S? You mean S as in sex,” she asked. “No,” replied the head of the MPAA, “S as in ‘shit’”! Which gives you some idea of the kind of ugly bullshit operation the MPAA was in those days.

TPR: Patty Mullen in the title role is a fucking hoot to watch and has become a bit of an icon in trash cinema circles. How did you end up casting Patty and how was she to work with?

FH: Patty heard about it, came in to audition, and I loved her right away. She was sexy and, at the same time, had that girl-next-door innocence. Plus, she could play comedy! And she was a joy to work with. Every so often she calls me out of the blue and she never says, “Hi.” Instead, she says, “Wanna date? Going out? Looking for some action?”

TPR:  The infamous Super Crack sequence. How was that to film and did it turn out as well as you had hoped? Because that scene, exploding hookers and all, is pure magic.

FH: It turned out great. We really didn’t know what would happen. I mean, the artificial bodies Gabe Bartalos created were filled with explosives and what happened happened. At times, flaming hooker debris rained down on me and the crew while filming. The exploding hookers is the favorite scene from any of my films. I never tire of watching it.

TPR: Bad Biology marked your return to film after a decade of absence from the scene. How did you know this had to be your comeback project?

FH: I didn’t. It just happened to be the script I wrote with producer (and legendary rapper R.A. The Rugged Man). Once we decided to go non-mainstream, it just flowed.

TPR: Bad Biology seems to bring your full circle back to body deformation. First it was Siamese twins in Basket Case, now it’s a woman with seven clitorises and a man with an enormous detachable cock with a mind of its own. When and how did you come up with the concept for the story and its religious angle? What were you saying about faith by giving Jennifer a divine purpose?

FH: That’s somewhat complicated. But I’m sick of hearing the Holier-Than-Thou’s out there tell us what isn’t sexually permissible, who cannot marry who, and what can or cannot be done in the privacy of one’s own bedroom. They make it sound as if God is anti-sex which can’t be true since God created the world’s first penises and vaginas. The whole flow of nature is based on procreation so God is very very pro-sex. Taking that a step further, I thought what if a woman born with seven clits is not an aberration but, rather, a deliberate and holy act of God. The next step in human evolution. Hell, if He can make Adam and Eve, He can make a Penis Baby.

TPR:  It seems like there might be more to tell with the story of Bad Biology. Can we expect to see a sequel or have you sworn off those? Will Penis Boy one day run into Belial?

FH: Basket Case 3 permanently ended the thought of any sequels in my future.

TPR: Where can fans find a copy of your retrospective film Herschell Gordon Lewis: Godfather of Gore? I can think of no person more fitting of paying tribute to the man who changed cinema forever with Blood Feast.

FH: The documentary will be released next year through Image Entertainment. In the meantime, it’s playing various festivals: Sept. 24 at the Somerville Theatre in Boston; Sept. 26 at the Philadelphia Film & Music Festival; October 10 at “It Came from Schenectady”; October 12 at The Cinefamily in Los Angeles; October 23 at the “Buffalo Screams Horror Film Festival” in Buffalo; November 12-13 at the “Buried Alive Film Festival” in Atlanta. And probably some others I don’t know about.

TPR: Exploitation and sleaze fans owe you a huge debt of gratitude for helping keep our favorite films alive with Something Weird Video. Can you tell us about the company and what you have in store for the future?

FH: I was recently pulling clips for a new documentary Something Weird is making, That’s Sexploitation, and a friend came over. I was sitting on the floor surrounded by pages and pages of notes and on the TV monitor were naked girls. My friend just looked at me and said, “You’ve got the greatest job in the world.” And he’s right. The company belongs to Mike Vraney but I got involved with it in the early 90s doing all sorts of things. In addition to two new documentaries we’re making, we’ve also got some new projects in the works with Image Entertainment including Blu-rays of Blood Feast and Basket Case. I’ll be doing a Hi-Def transfer of Basket Case early next year from the original 16mm camera negative which we thought lost. So the film should look a lot brighter and cleaner than it’s ever looked before.

TPR:  The majority of your films were ridiculed by most mainstream critics but over time your films, Basket Case, Brain Damage, and Frankenhooker have all grown into cult classics with impressive followings. Do you feel a bit of vindication knowing now that your films are loved and understood by so many?

FH: What’s more important to me than the critics is how many people still love the old films. I honestly thought they were forgotten about. I was very reclusive for a good many years but making Bad Biology brought me back to the world of the living. Part of my reemergence was to go to festivals with the film. And I was floored when fans showed up with posters and videos and photos for me to sign. What I had forgotten was that a whole generation grew up on vhs and my films were part of that. So that really surprised me. Stunned me, actually. So I’ve made an effort to be more accessible which is why I’m attending Horror Realm, Fangoria’s Weekend of Horrors, and going on Facebook.

TPR: What do you plan on working on next? Now that you’ve made Bad Biology are there any other stories you would like to tell? Because your fans are always champing at the bit for your next film.

FH: I don’t like to talk about future projects other than to say there are two I’d like to do and both are extremely different from the others I’ve done. In fact, one isn’t even a horror film.

TPR:  Do you have any advice for young filmmakers setting forth and trying to create their own strange, sleazy film epics? Any words of wisdom to the new generation of filmmakers you’ve inspired?

FH: Oh, God. The last thing they need is advice from a guy who took 16 years between films. But, unlike me, if they’re serious, they’ve got to keep busy. Which means you’ve got to keep making things. And not just on video. Film is a very different medium and far more rewarding than video. But whatever you’re shooting on, keep shooting. Keep making ‘em.

Frank, it’s been an honor and an absolute pleasure talking with you. Take care of yourself and thanks for taking the time to talk with us here at the Trash Cinema Collective.  Stay Trashy!




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