FANGORIA 323

Peek at the interview with me, discussing my recent mini-book on vintage Driver's Education films (Blood on the Windscreen), that appears in the current issue of Fangoria (#323). Piece written by Kier-La Janisse.

I SPIT ON YOUR ORIGINAL

Caught up with the 2010 remake of Meir Zarchi's controversial 1978 exploitation hit I Spit on Your Grave (aka Day of the Woman). While I thought Sarah Butler did an OK job of filling the role made so iconic by Camille Keaton in the original..., I really hated the way they turned the Jennifer Hills character into an almost Jason Voorhees type, hiding in the woods for months and moving around like a ghostly apparition at times. Once the rape stopped and the revenge began, the film just ventured into generic Saw/Hostel territory.

 

One of the great things about the original (and Camille Keaton's performance) is the way that Jennifer Hills uses her femininty to play with the males' egos and lure them into a comfortable spot before exacting her payback. In the remake, she simply sneaks up behind her abusers and whacks them on the head with a crowbar or baseball bat, knocking them unconcious long enough for her to tie them up to some grisly but unlikely and overly-creative torture/killing device. Even the famous genital amputaion scene is played here for just a brief moment of wincing and male leg-crossing, unlike the lingering sense of suffering and uncomfortableness which Meir Zarchi achieved in his low-budget original. The introduction of the sheriff character was also an unecessary addition and seemed too closely inspired by R. Lee Ermey's faux-sheriff character in the 2003 Texas Chainsaw Massacre remake.

BODACIOUS BABE (WITH BRAINS)

DIANE FRANKLIN: 

THE EXCELLENT ADVENTURES OF THE LAST AMERICAN, 

FRENCH-EXCHANGE BABE OF THE 80s

By Diane Franklin

In the mid-eighties, I developed an unashamed crush on Diane Franklin. Nothing too remarkable or unique about a young film-lover harbouring a bit of a thing for an unattainable celebrity, the curious exception here being that I fell for Franklin three times in different movies before I realised I was smitten by the same actress, so effective was her ability to completely disappear, chameleon-like, into her roles (no matter how lightweight those roles may have seemed on paper). In Amityville II: The Possession (1982) she portrayed the teenaged Patricia, innocent and sweet yet aroused by dark, forbidden sexuality. In ‘Savage’ Steve Holland’s brilliant teen comedy Better off Dead (1985) she was the petite and intelligent French exchange student living next door to dumped, depressed everyman John Cusack, while in the live-action comic book horror of TerrorVision (1986) she was the exaggerated Cyndi Lauper-esque valley girl trying to deal with a dysfunctional family and a blob from outer space that was slowly devouring the whole household. While the mainstream media may have been touting Molly Ringwald as the queen of 80s teen cinema, for me that tiara always belonged to Diane Franklin. Apart from always being so much fun to watch, I think I identified with (and was attracted to) the ‘misfit’ side that inhabited most of her characters.

In The Excellent Adventures of the Last American, French-Exchange Babe of the 80s, Diane Franklin looks back on her childhood in Plainview, Long Island, her teen modelling career and early appearances on daytime soaps and TV movies of the week, and of course the 80s films which she is so fondly remembered for. Apart from the three films previously mentioned, Franklin also appeared in The Last American Virgin (1982), Second Time Lucky (1985) and Bill & Ted’s Excellent Adventure (1989). Each film is given a brief chapter, and in a fun little touch Diane gives each chapter a film-like ‘rating’ that warns younger readers about any upcoming racy material!

This isn’t some kind of tell-all, scandalous cash grab, nor is it an in-depth autobiography of Diane Franklin's private life, and I doubt it was ever intended to be either of these. It’s more like the ultimate souvenir scrapbook of her career, presented in a way that allows Franklin’s infectious personality to shine through. She just seems like such a genuinely nice, positive and upbeat person, happy with where she is in life and with an appreciative grasp on her contribution to 80s pop cinema culture.

Breezy but entertaining and filled with a wealth of terrific black & white photographs from all periods of Franklin’s life and career, The Excellent Adventures of the Last American, French-Exchange Babe of the 80s is – as the title suggests – a truly excellent 114 page volume that is bound to bring back nostalgic pangs and memories of all-night VHS marathons, sitting up with friends (or alone) by the light of the cathode ray, feeding tape after tape into the hungry VCR, while you sat back and snacked on chips and cola (or bongs, beer and pizza, depending on what the mood called for and the wallet allowed).

Order Diane Franklin’s book (published in large trade paperback format) exclusively from Amazon here:

DIANE FRANKLIN Book

　
Review Copyright John Harrison 2013

HITCH

Caught up with the recent Hitchcock biopic last night and enjoyed it a lot more than I expected to. Directed by Sacha Gervasi (who directed the great 2008 documentary on 80s Canadian heavy metal band Anvil), Hitchcock examines the relationship between the director and his wife Alma during the making of his genre-changing 1960 classic Psycho. It doesn't paint as negative a portrait of Hitch as the other recent biopic The Girl did, but it's still not a wholly endearing portrait of the master of suspense and his curious peccadilloes.

Nice production design, and loved seeing the recreation of the filming of Psycho and it's cinematic release - the movie reiterates just what a big gamble Psycho was for Hitchcock and how ground-breaking it was at the time, and how much the studio heads hated it (until it was released and started making a fortune for them, of course). Anthony Hopkins and Helen Mirren turn in dependable performances as Alfred and Alma, Scarlett Johansson and James D'Arcy are more than serviceable as Janet Leigh and Tony Perkins, while Jessica Biel (as Vera Miles) and Toni Collette (as Hitch's assistant) are terrific and virtually unrecognizable. Also a surprise to see the original Karate Kid star, Ralph Macchio, turn up playing Joseph Stefano, the writer who penned the screenplay for Psycho. And loved the running apperance by Michael Wincott as Ed Gein, the Wisconsin psychopath, grave-robber and ghoul who inspired Robert Bloch's original novel on which the film was based.

 

 

VALE ANNETTE

While most people talk about Thatcher, I will be thinking of the beautiful Annette Funicello, who has died at the age of 70 after a 25 year battle with multiple sclerosis. Farewell, sweet Pineapple Princess...she was one of my first crushes (along with Marcia Brady) and a big part of my Sunday afternoons growing up.

 

 

TERRORVISION

Director: Ted Nicolaou (USA, 1986)

Written and directed by Ted Nicolaou for Charles Band’s Empire Pictures, TerrorVision has always been one of my favourite low-budget genre films from the 1980s, a garishly lurid comic book come to life which satirises virtually everything that was prominent in the disposable pop culture canvas of that decade – satellite television, the aerobics fitness craze, valley girls, MTV, swinging suburbia, new wave, heavy metal, military survivalists and ostentatious interior decorating.

The Puttermans are the ultimate caricature of grotesque eighties suburbia. Mom and dad Raquel and Stanley (Mary Woronov and Gerrit Graham) are would-be swingers wanting to spice up their love lives while trying to deal with their highly dysfunctional family. Grampa (Burt Remsen) is a survivalist with an armoury of high-tech weapons at his disposal should enemy troops suddenly appear on his doorstep. Young son Sherman (Chad Allen) plays war games with Grampa and is prone to fits (a typical 80s Prozac child), while teenage daughter Suzie (Diane Franklin) is a hyper Cyndi Lauper wannabe and probably the most (relatively) normal member of the family.

Thrown into this oddball mix is Suzie’s metal head stoner boyfriend O.D. (Jon Gries), swinging couple Spiro and Cherry (Alejandro Rey and Randi Brooks) whom Stanley and Raquel bring home for a bit of fun in the Olympic-sized Jacuzzi, and a buxom but obnoxious TV horror hostess named Medusa (played by Jennifer Richards in an obvious spin on Cassandra Peterson’s Elvira character). Oh, I should also mention the big ugly blob of an alien monster that has been banished from the planet Pluto via some strange intergalactic beam which is intercepted by Stanley’s temperamental new satellite dish, causing the monster to intermittently materialise inside the Putterman’s house, chewing on the residents and guests and leaving them a puddle of gooey gelatin.

Like many of the low-budget AIP monster movies of the 1950s, TerrorVision was initially conceived as a piece of poster art, around which Nicolaou was given free reign to write a screenplay, opting to deliver a surreal, goofy comedy satire that works so well primarily because of its larger than life characters, all of which are brought to cartoonish life by the wonderful ensemble of actors. Particularly entertaining to watch are Diane Franklin and Jon Gries, who really disappear into their roles and create a terrific onscreen chemistry, as do Mary Woronov and Gerrit Graham. Former Flying Nun star Alejandro Rey is also amusing as the sleazy but cheerful Greek swinger Spiro, whose eyes are set not on Raquel but on "manly man" Stanley (Rey would die of lung cancer not long after the film’s release, at the young age of 57).

Filmed in Italy at the old Dino De Laurentis studios, TerrorVision also boasts memorable production design by Giovanni Natalucci, a tacky mixture of Playboy mansion and art deco from Hell, which compounds the alternate reality of the film and creates the perfect playhouse for these exaggerated characters to run amok in. The ludicrous monster, built by eighties effects maestro John Carl Buechler is also an inspired creation, funny and repulsive and with its own sense of personality and character. The film additionally benefits from a cool new wave-tinged soundtrack (from Richard Band) and theme song by the Fibonaccis (in the making-of featurette, director Nicolaou talks about screening a rough cut of the film to both Frank Zappa and Lux Interior of the Cramps, in hopes of getting them to do the soundtrack. Unfortunately, they both passed the opportunity up for different reasons).

Shout! Factory’s BluRay/DVD combo pack of TerrorVision (where it is paired with Robert Scott’s 1987 low-budgeter The Video Dead) is beautifully presented, the stunning transfer really bringing the vibrant, pulsating colours to life like never before. Extras include a fun and entertaining audio commentary with director Ted Nicolaou and stars Diane Franklin and Jon Gries, and a nice 38 minute making-of featurette that contains some great behind-the-scenes photos and interviews with various members of the cast and crew.

Review Copyright John Harrison 2013

MORE HAMMER

Continuing to plough through the recent spate of Hammer BluRays, this morning it was a double-bill of Rasputin - The Mad Monk and The Reptile. Since these two 1966 productions were released on the same bill in many markets, it made sense to watch them together.

The Reptile is the lesser of the two Cornwall set horror flicks filmed back-to-back by director John Gilling (the other being the much more satisfying Plague of the Zombies). Essentially a female take on the werewolf mythos, The Reptile has a decent plot and performances, and an interesting choice in male lead with ruddy-faced Australian Ray Barrett, but it is let down by the appearance of the title (she) creature, which is brilliant in design but sadly lacking in the execution, with Roy Ashton’s budget-restricted make-up effects not up to his usual high standard.

Much more successful is Rasputin - The Mad Monk, which has a more classically grand, epic feel, is quite mature in its nature and features another great, commanding performance by Christopher Lee in the title role, bringing his Count Dracula charisma and vibe to the sexually-charged Russian madman. Barbara Shelley is also wonderful in the role of Sonia, the Tsarina’s lady-in-waiting who falls under the spell of Rasputin (and commits a wicked act in his name which is still shocking nearly fifty years later).

As with the other releases, the BluRays of The Reptile and Rasputin have a great selection of nice extras - including making-off featurettes and, in the case of Rasputin, a cool little documentary on the vintage Hammer paperback novelisation tie-ins.

QUATERMASS

What a treat it was to watch the new Blu-Ray of Hammer’s 1967 sci-fi classic Quatermass and the Pit. When I sat down and put it on I realised that the only copy of the film that I have previously ever owned was a VHS taped off a television broadcast from the nineties (where it was shown under its alternative title, Five Million Years to Earth), so seeing it in any kind of hi-def for the first time was a real eye-opener.

 

Quatermass and the Pit still holds up as intelligent, clever and sometimes thought-provoking piece of genre filmmaking, with director Roy Ward Baker delivering a very satisfying blend of science and scares, and anchored by a commanding performance by Andrew Keir as Professor Quatermass. Sure, some of the characters are cliched and a couple of the effects look more suited to the Dr. Who episodes of the day, but the story is engrossing and rousing, and there are more than enough clever and effective visual touches to compensate (such as the devil-like Martian spectral image that appears over the city at the film’s climax - a genuinely disturbing visage). And on top of everything else, we get the beautiful Barbara Shelly in a cute plaid skirt and tight red sweater!

VALE MARZIPAN

Melbourne's cinema-going society lost one of their own over the weekend when Marzipan, who was the resident cat at the magnificent art deco cinema the Astor Theatre, died at age of 21 after suffering a long illness. Marzipan was adopted by the cinema management when she wandered into the lobby as a stray kitten back in 1992, and since then she had become an integral and much loved part of the theatre - always lounging on the comfy chairs in the upstairs and downstairs lobby, mingling with the crowds in search of a pat, wandering through the cinema like she owned the place and frequently finding a warm lap to sit on for a nap. On several occasions, she was known to scare audience members when she would unexpectedly leap up on someone's lap during a particularly tense moment in some horror or thriller movie.

Marzipan became so popular and adored she was the subject of newspaper articles, a Facebook page and even Melbourne's biggest newspaper carried a story on her passing. As someone who lives only a few minutes walk from the Astor and has been a regular patron of it's great screenings of films new and old since 1982, I will certainly miss the pitter patter of her little feet and the warmth and unity her presence brought to an audience. She certainly lucked out when she wandered off a busy street into that cinema, and 21 years is a great life for a kitty much loved and spoiled rotten.
 

http://m.theage.com.au/victoria/astor-cat-bows-out-20130324-2go37.html

https://www.facebook.com/profile.php?id=740102618#!/marzipan.astorcat?fref=ts

HARD TIMES

 

Finally had a chance to revisit Allan Moyle’s 1980 teen rock movie Times Square last night, the first time I have seen it since its original theatrical release. The story of two teenaged girls (from wildly different classes and backgrounds) who bust out of a neurological hospital and survive on the streets of New York, forming their own punk duo The Sleaze Sisters with the aid of renegade DJ Johnny LaGuardia (Tim Curry), it’s an entertaining but unexceptional film for the most part. There’s a good new wave/punk soundtrack featuring the likes of Roxy Music, Lou Reed, The Ramones, Talking Heads and more, and Trini Alvarado and Robin Johnson are fine in the lead roles of Pammy and Nicky respectively. But the real interest in the film lies is in its setting - filmed entirely on location, Times Square captures the seedy landscape of 42^nd St in all its lurid glory, just as it was on the cusp of it’s big clean-up and transition from a grotty urban jungle wallowing in danger and character to a bland Disneyland-esque family attraction (in fact, one of the subplots of the film revolves around the political campaign to ‘beautify’ Times Square).

 

Some of the movies spotted on the cinema marquees in Times Square include Al Adamson’s Nurse Sherri, Cry Rape, House of Psychotic Women (which the two female leads briefly lampoon),The Dark and perennial grindhouse fave Snuff. Also features a brief appearance by legendary 1970s/80s porn starlet Sharon Mitchell (who also popped-up in William Lustig’s 1981 sleazy cult 42^nd St fave Maniac).

 

While Times Square has garnered something of a cult following over the years, at the time of its release in was unmercifully savaged by most critics, none more so than David Denby in New York Magazine, who spat out: "This evil, lying little fantasy has been photographed in ugly color, and a mess of mediocre rock music has been draped across it like mozzarella on lasagne. If the producer, Robert Stigwood, sells soundtrack albums with this movie, he should set up a fund for every girl mugged, raped or battered in Times Square".

 

Hunt down the double vinyl soundtrack LP on the RSO label and look for the out-of-print Anchor Bay DVD, which features an audio commentary by director Moyle (Pump Up the Volume, Empire Records) and co-star Johnson.

DAMIANI'S SLEAZY POSSESSION

Produced by Dino De Laurentiis, Damiano Damiani’s Amityville II: The Possession is a great underrated horror movie from its period. Released in September of 1982, it came along at the tail end of a wave of demonic possession films that had started a decade earlier with the 1973 release of William Friedkin’s The Exorcist. Yet despite being one of the final entries in a cycle that was quickly growing stale, Amityville II remains one of the best examples of the genre, surpassing 1979's The Amityville Horror by a good margin.

While The Amityville Horror was based on supposed events, Amityville II at it’s core is a prequel that is based on real, proven events - the 1974 massacre of the DeFeo family (parents and four children) by the oldest son, Ronald DeFeo (it was after this event that George and Kathy Lutz bought the now-infamous Amityville house and fled from it in terror 28 days later, claiming it to be harbouring demonic forces). Using the DeFeo story as the spine of his screenplay, along with material from Hans Holzer’s 1979 true crime book Murder in Amityville, Tommy Lee Wallace incorporated the supernatural spook elements from the first film and came up with a plot about a highly dysfunctional family who move into the Long Island home and instantly become prime feeding material for its infested soul, with the most troubled and vulnerable occupant, oldest son Sonny Montelli (Jack Magner) chosen as the one to spread mayhem and murder.

Of course, Amityville II is not necessarily a exceptional film if you are looking at it purely from a writing, performance and directing perspective - it’s the presence of other interesting elements which help distinguish it from similar fare. The dialogue may not always be sharp, but the themes the screenplay explores are often confronting and uncomfortable - none more so than the incestuous relationship depicted between oldest siblings Sonny and Patricia (the wonderful Diane Franklin). The scene where Sonny (quite easily) persuades Patricia to take off her nightie, then confesses to stealing her underwear before he seduces her, has an air of perverse sexual tension that is almost palpable. And while this happens after Sonny has clearly become possessed, there are obvious prior hints that their relationship is a very flirtatious and sexually-charged one (look no further than the scene where Patricia, dressed in tight jeans and pure white jumper, practices her ballet poses in front of Sonny). The incestuous angle is one of those themes found in early-80s genre cinema that most studios would not even try to get away with today (especially in such an exploitative way), and it’s what helps give Amityville II that unique feeling of sleaze and seediness which pervades almost every frame of its running time.

One of the most curios aspects of Wallace’s screenplay is that it doesn’t let you feel much sympathy for the characters. Instead of taking a likeable family and establishing an identity for them which is slowly destroyed, Wallace gives us a family who are already dysfunctional, ugly and rotting away from the inside. Father Anthony Montelli (Burt Young) is the slovenly, brutal head of the family, constantly grumpy and dishing out slaps across the face and belts across the backside at the drop of a hat. He looks like he works on a wharf or a meat-packing plant in the Bronx, and totally out of place in his new surroundings. Young’s performance is both amusingly over the top and genuinely creepy. As wife Dolores, Rutanya Alda plays her character like someone slightly out of step with time - in many ways, she epitomises the loyal but naive American housewife of the 1950s, in denial but still desperate to cling to the suburban dream. You have to wonder what her wholesome character first saw in the man she married, but Young and Alda manage to create an interesting chemistry between each other that is always fun to watch.

As Sonny and Patricia, Jack Magner and Diane Franklin are terrific in roles that would have offered a bit of a challenge to effectively pull off. Magner is generally decent as a teenager on the verge of manhood but still living under the oppressive hand of his father, but where he really excels is simply in his presence, his eyes and his facial expressions, which become progressively more demonic and deformed as the story unfolds. And Franklin (Terrorvision, Better Off Dead, The Last American Virgin) demonstrates once again why many people (myself included) consider her one of the best and most versatile young actors from that period. In Amityville II, Franklin’s character displays some interesting dualities - she exudes a naive innocence yet eagerly embarks on a sexual affair with her brother. After sleeping with him, she runs off to confess the next day to the family priest (James Olsen), yet tells Sonny that she doesn’t regret what has happened between them at all. Franklin has rarely looked lovelier than she does here.

The final reel of Amityville II not only does an entertaining riff on The Exorcist, but offers up some pretty tasty prosthetic make-up effects courtesy of John Caglioni, Jnr. By 1982, thanks to the rising cult status of make-up artists like Dick Smith and Tom Savini, effects had become an integral part of a horror movie’s success. It got you valuable coverage in horror bible Fangoria, and in the pre-internet days a horror flick with convincing or unusual make-up effects always garnered some effective word of mouth.

Another factor which adds greatly to the appeal of Amityville II is it’s gloomy look and sense of oppressive atmosphere which cinematographer Franco DiGiacomo creates, using shadows and darkness inside the house and washed-out colours in the exterior scenes, giving the film a continually bleak and colourless tone (as does the fine mist, dead leaves and dirty pools of melting ice that fill many of the outside locations). There is the expected overuse of POV shots to try and create tension, but there are also some genuinely clever and creative photographic touches - a white tablecloth flies down a hallway and covers an offending crucifix that is hanging on the wall, and there’s a nice shot which tracks Sonny from behind as he stalks the house at night, before the camera does a continual 180 flip and tilt to reveal the character front on. The film’s tone is compounded by a suitably creepy and ambient score from the always reliable Lalo Schifrin.

Filmed mostly in Mexico (the house exteriors were shot at the same New Jersey location as the previous film), Amityville II comes close to being one of late Italian director Damiano Damiani’s best films. It doesn’t reach the same heights Damiani scaled in his 1966 spaghetti western A Bullet for the General or the 1971 Italian cop actioner Confessions of a Police Captain, but in Amityville II he delivers a downbeat yet wildly entertaining spook show with a healthy dose of 42^nd St grind.

If you live in Melbourne, Australia, ACMI cinemas will be screening Amityville II: The Possession on Sunday, 14^th of April as part of Scream and Scream Again, a program of horror movie sequels from the 1970s and 80s, which will also include Jaws 2, Halloween II and Damien: Omen II. You can find more about the screenings at the ACMI website. Amityville II is also available on DVD, the best release being Sanctuary’s 2004 UK special edition, which features an+ entertaining audio commentary by Kim Newman and Stephen Jones, along with a nice booklet and set of mini lobby cards.

Review Copyright John Harrison 2013.

FILMINK INTERVIEW

The current issue of Australia's Filmink magazine (March 2013), features a small article and interview with me, discussing my new Blood on the Windscreen book.
 

Also nice to read artist/writer Stephen Bissette's comment on the publications: "Just finished reading John Harrison's excellent little chapbook BLOOD ON THE WINDSCREEN (that's "WINDSHIELD," Americans!), which provides a perfect overview of the 1950s-1970s Driver's Ed movies that were inflicted upon us in driving classe...s and/or "Shop" (Mr. Murphy showed us one at Harwood Union High School in Shop class) back in the day. Modest but definitive book, recommended—and just the sort of history I was calling for in one of my brief FILM THREAT articles back in 1990."

CINEMA SEWER

Finally filled-in a couple of gaps in my collection of Cinema Sewer magazine, which I used to pick-up from one of the local comic book shops in Melbourne until it became a bit scarce to find. I’m always happy when I see an old-school fanzine still doing the rounds in hard copy, and Canadian Robin Bougie’s is (and always has been) up there with the best of the exploitation/trash film zines.

Published in standard comic book size (as opposed to the digest format of early issues) the most recent issue of Cinema Sewer (#25, February 2012) features a stunning piece of pulp cover art that heralds the issue’s main article, which looks at the much-loved genre of sleazy Nazi concentration camp horrors (The Beast in Heat, SS Camp 5, Gestapo’s Last Orgy and, of course, the infamous Ilsa movies).

Elsewhere within the issue’s forty pages, we have coverage of daredevil documentaries (Death Riders, The Devil at Your Heels), reviews of everything from Sissy’s Hot Summer (1979) and Monkey Hustle (1976) to Megaforce (1982) and Streets of Fire (1984) and lots more that is designed to not only entertain and amuse, but potentially outrage and offend those who pick the magazine up by mistake . And as usual, the whole issue is handwritten by Bougie himself, who also provides the bulk of the magazine’s original illustrations. It’s an approach which gives Cinema Sewer a unique personal touch and sets it apart from just about every other film magazine out there (also gives me RSI just thinking about all the work Robin puts into each issue!).

At a measly four bucks, Cinema Sewer is well worth your money and support. Issue #26 has just been published, you can order it, along with back issues and the three Cinema Sewer compilation books published by FAB Press, over at the magazine’s website at: www.cinemasewer.com
　

LEWIS' LOST SLEAZE

THE LOST FILMS OF HERSCHELL GORDON LEWIS

Directed by Herschell Gordon Lewis

USA 1969/71

Studio: Vinegar Syndrome

Number of Discs: 2 (Blu-Ray/DVD)

 While the majority of Herschell Gordon Lewis’ films were unearthed and released to the public (by the likes of Midnight Vide, Palace Explosive and Something Weird Video) in the 1980s and early-nineties, three titles from his oeuvre continually eluded his loyal band of fans and collectors. Now, thanks to the efforts of Process Blue (a film restoration facility), the Lewis filmography is one giant step closer to being complete, with the discovery and subsequent release of three of the Godfather of Gore’s obscure and previously lost sexploitation films: Linda & Abilene, Ecstasies of Women (both 1969) and Black Love (1971).

The pick of the litter here is definitely Linda & Abilene, which features the lovely Sharon Matt and was filmed at the infamous Spahn Ranch in California, an archaic location that was the setting for many western movies and television shows, and was being used as a hideout by Charles Manson and his band of counterculture followers at around the same time that Linda & Abilene was being filmed there (in fact, Lewis has claimed in several interviews over the years that members of the Manson gang were spotted wandering around in a psychedelic haze at various times throughout the filming). This morbid little anecdote aside, Linda & Abilene is a western sexploiter, but unfortunately an overlong and not very exciting one, especially considering some of the rougher adult westerns that were doing the flea-pit rounds at the time (such as Van Guylder’s The Ramrodder). The highlight is easily the lesbian interlude between Linda (Roxanne Jones) and Abilene (Matt), though unfortunately this doesn’t come until ten minutes from the film’s so-called climax.

In Ecstasies of Women, sleazy lingerie salesman Harry (Walter Camp) and his three pals celebrate his last night of bachelorhood at the most sparsely decorated strip joint in town, watching a couple of bored women gyrating on stage ("They must have ball-bearings for bone joints", one of his boozy pals comments). In between rounds of groping the topless waitresses, Harry affectionately thinks back to some of his more memorable female conquests, all of which take place on his yacht the ‘High Life’ (which remarkably has an interior at least four times the size of the exterior). By the end of the night, the whole gang (including the waitresses and strippers) end up back on the yacht enjoying a little group action, with Harry waking up the next day and deciding to leave his bride-to-be at the altar so he can continue his wicked, wicked ways. Filmed in Hollywood, Ecstasies of Women is basically a 1962 nudie film with some 1969 bush shots, and once again features Sharon Matt, along with some cool music (a mixture of guitar and sleazy lounge).

The final film on the disc, Black Love is essentially a ‘white coater’ (i.e. - a sex flick disguised as a documentary in order to get racy material passed the local censors). It is also the only hardcore sex film that Lewis is known to have directed (under the pseudonym R. L. Smith), and is a very grotty ‘document’ (complete with borderline offensive narration) of the sexual practices of African Americans, who apparently have different desires to other folks. Consider it the filmmaker’s contribution to the burgeoning blaxploitation genre, which was just starting to find popularity at the time.

While not amongst the highlights of Lewis’ career, it’s terrific to see these finally out there, and packaged together at a reasonable price. A definite must-have for Lewis collectors and fans of late-sixties skinema.

Vinegar Syndrome’s Blu-Ray/DVD release of The Lost Films of Herschell Gordon Lewis features crisp, original camera negatives that have been scanned and restored in 2K. It obvious that the original negatives Process Blue discovered were rarely used and in remarkably good shape for their age. Also included are the original trailers for all three films, reproductions of the lab cards, and a 10 page illustrated booklet featuring liner notes by Casey Scott.

Reviewed Copyright John Harrison 2013

GOLDEN GODDESSES

Golden Goddesses:

25 Legendary Women of Classic Erotic Cinema 1968 - 1985

by Jill Nelson

"I made it a rule, an absolute rule for all of the films that no women were allowed on the crew except for make-up. The technical crew: cameraman, gaffer, grip and sound — I never hired a woman. I don’t like women." (Roberta Findlay)
 

There is a continuing, undeniably voyeuristic fascination with people who were involved in the golden age of adult cinema (both in front of and behind the camera). Perhaps it’s the fact that they were both pioneers in a field of phenomenally popular (and perennially profitable) entertainment, yet also looked down upon as outcasts by the majority of mainstream society, who were happy to inwardly look but outwardly condemned. Or perhaps it’s partly because the people then had definitive personalities, looks and styles, unlike the mostly cookie-cutter, fake blonde and siliconed boobed porn starlets of today.

The co-author of the definitive John Holmes bio, Inches, Jill Nelson returns with Golden Goddesses: 25 Legendary Women of Classic Erotic Cinema 1968 - 1985. Told in an oral history format, Nelson has selected a diverse range of names to interview - including not just performers but also screenwriters, directors and costumers - which not only give us a terrific insight into the adult film industry during this rapidly evolving outlaw period, but allows us to know them as women, individuals and human beings. The bulk of the credit for this, of course, belongs to Nelson herself, who has obviously been able to win the trust of her subjects enough for them to open up a lot more than they would have in the pages of publications like Adam Film World back in the day.

Picking out highlights is a tough ask. The interviews conducted with actors who have since passed on (Marilyn Chambers, Juliette Anderson, Barbara Caron Mills) resonate with a certain sadness, but also serve as fitting epitaphs. Likewise, the chapter on actor/director Ann Perry (House on Bare Mountain, The Toy Box, Sweet Savage) also has an emotional timbre to it, since Perry’s battle with Alzheimer’s meant that her son had to do most of the talking for her. Elsewhere, Jody Maxwell (often billed as ‘The Missouri Stick Licker’) talks about losing her film virginity to Jamie Gillis and her unique talent for being able to sing while performing oral sex, and Laurie Holmes remembers her life with John and her disdain at the current state of the porn industry.

If I had to pick a favourite chapter, however, it would have to be Nelson’s interview with the normally publicity-shy Roberta Findlay. Along with her husband Michael, Roberta Findlay was responsible for some of the more notorious of the sexploitation black & white ‘roughies’ that emerged from the New York underground of the mid-to-late 1960s, including Satan’s Bed (1965, starring a pre-Lennon Yoko Ono), Take Me Naked (1966, written by and starring Roberta) and the infamous Flesh trilogy (The Touch of Her Flesh, The Curse of Her Flesh and The Kiss of Her Flesh). They later turned to the drive-in and grindhouse circuits, producing the 1971 Manson-inspired film Slaughter, which had footage added to it by Allan Shackleton and re-released in 1976 as the notorious Snuff (‘The film that could only be made in South America...where Life is CHEAP!’). After Michael Findlay was killed in a 1977 helicopter crash, Roberta went on to direct hardcore features such as Mystique (1979) and Shauna: Every Man’s Fantasy (1985, a tribute to Shauna Grant, who had committed suicide a year earlier), as well as returning to exploitation and horror with the likes of the grimy Tenement (1985) and Blood Sisters (1987). An impressive oeuvre indeed, and Findlay relays a lot of great anecdotes and memories, from hiding film reels at the bottom of a well to avoid the authorities, getting a cyst in her breast removed (a result of years of filming with a 40 pound Panaflex camera) , and her love for dialogue and disdain at actually having to shoot hardcore sex ("I was always disgusted by the sex scenes so I’d say "Okay, everybody screw". That would be it").

Other names covered in Golden Goddesses include such well-known names (at least within the industry and it’s supporters) as Seka, Kay Parker, Georgina Spelvin, Christy Canyon, Nina Hartley, Annie Sprinkle, Ginger Lynn (whose chapter touches on the industry-changing Traci Lords underage scandal), Veronica Hart, Kitten Natividad and Serena.

At 950 pages, Golden Goddesses is an expansive and exhaustive tome, heavily illustrated with over 300 black & white photos (including many candid and childhood snaps), and an essential addition to the library of anyone with more than a passing interest in its subject matter. I only hope that Nelson returns to the adult genre in the near future, as her two works on the subject so far have provided welcome breaths of fresh air in a field filled with uninspiring, sensationalistic and inaccurate studies.

Review Copyright 2013 John Harrison

Golden Goddesses: 25 Legendary Women of Classic Erotic Cinema 1968-1985 is published by Bear Manor Media (www.bearmanormedia.com). You can also visit the Golden Goddesses blogger page at: www.goldengoddessesbook.blogspot.com