Review #1,447: 'Cinderella 2000' (1977)

The Golden Age of Porn kicked off in 1969 following the release of Andy Warhol's Blue Movie and spread across the globe from there. Pornography always consisted of a few magazines found under your father's mattress, but Warhol helped usher the form into mainstream cinemas, and soon enough even movie critics were taking them seriously. The likes of The Devil in Miss Jones and Deep Throat were huge hits on modest budgets, and aspiring filmmakers were keen to take advantage once they had a camera and a few willing participants. One of the many tricks employed by these filmmakers to draw in audiences was to adapt a well-known story that required no rights purchase or special permission, and fairytales offered a bottomless barrel of stories to plunder. Al Adamson's Cinderella 2000, which transports the action to a near-future where society is ruled over by a dictator and 'fornication' is outlawed, is one of the most famous examples of these smutty fairytales.

The beautiful young Cindy (Catharine Burgess) lives with her horny stepmother (Renee Harmon) and two stepsisters Bella (Bhurni Cowans) and Stella (Adina Ross). Because sex is strictly prohibited by order of the totalitarian government ruled by 'The Controller' (Erwin Fuller), the women have never had sex, and spend most of their time trying to seduce moutachioed guards or writhing around on the floor. Young stud Tom Prince (Vaughn Armstrong) is one of the few deemed worthy enough by the Controller to make love, but the poor horndog has grown dismayed by the lack of passion shown by his partners. After voicing his concerns, the Controller agrees to hold a grand ball to ease the public's sexual frustrations. With the help of her Fairy Godfather (Jay B. Larson), Cindy is soon suited and booted and ready for the party. Of course, she is the only one to catch Tom's eye, and the couple enjoy a night of steamy passion. But when the clock strikes midnight, Cindy dashes off back home. Desperate to find the woman who reignited the fire within him, Tom sets off on his search, and he is prepared to sleep with every woman in the country if he must.

Cinderella 2000 is a rather bizarre concoction, blending sci-fi, musical, comedy and, of course, erotica, with often psychedelic results. While I'll certainly never see the film again, the sheer weirdness of it all means that I'm not likely to forget it anytime soon. There's a robot who strictly enforces the Controller's rules while singing about his desire to 'plug' himself into the other sexy devices around him. At least that's what I think he was singing about, as his voice is so muffled his dialogue is barely comprehensible. There are also Benny Hill-esque romps under the covers and sets so wobbly even Herchell Gordon Lewis would blush. Of course, it all adds to the charm of these kinds of films, but charm is always better in hindsight. To actually sit through the film - which runs for 100 minutes - is a chore. Cinderella 2000 just about gets away with it thanks to some surprisingly catchy musical numbers, a quirky sense of humour, and a script so completely bonkers that you just have to admire the creativity.


Directed by: Al Adamson
Starring: Catharine Burgess, Jay B. Larson, Vaughn Armstrong, Erwin Fuller, Renee Harmon
Country: USA

Rating: **

Tom Gillespie

Review #1,381: 'Sleeping Dogs' (1977)

With Sleeping Dogs, director Roger Donaldson near enough single-handedly cemented New Zealand's place on the cinematic map. It was, at the time, the biggest box-office hit the country had seen, and also boasted what is only the second big-screen appearance by Sam Neill. With Ozplotation in full swing just across the water, Sleeping Dogs kicked off a New Wave in New Zealand, with the likes of Donaldson's Smash Palace and Vincent Ward's Vigil following in the subsequent years. The film is odd and off-kilter, but never less than fascinating. Donaldson clearly looked at Adolf Hitler's own rise to power in post-World War I Germany for inspiration, as he depicts a New Zealand of the near future falling foul of a rising dictatorship who are eager to hunt down anybody they believe could belong to a growing band of freedom fighters. It all starts with television reports of fuel strikes across the country, and quickly spirals out of control from there.

The report is being watched by Smith (Neill) as his children write him goodbye letters and his wife sobs in the kitchen. He is the victim of infidelity, so decides to pack up and live off the grid for a while, but not before his wife's new lover Bullen (Ian Mune) arrives before he has even left the house. He spots an island on the Coromandel peninsula, arranging with the Maori owners to live out there untroubled, even exchanging his expensive car for their rusty old boat. He fishes, listens to the radio, and befriends the locals nearby, but his idyllic existence is soon interrupted when the government goes into full crackdown mode, arresting anybody on suspicion of assisting the revolution. He is taken in by the police to be interrogated and tortured, and likely sentenced to death. Seeing no other alternative, Smith takes his chance and escapes his captors, fleeing to a quiet camping ground where he meets a nice local girl. Smith is no guerilla revolutionary and is quite happy to live in ignorant bliss, but when US Army Colonel Willoughby (Warren Oates) arrives with more on his mind than policing the country, it becomes clear that Smith's destiny lies with the uprising, whether he likes it or not.

Donaldson deliberately holds back certain pieces of information to keep the goings-on away from Smith a mystery, making Sleeping Dogs a rather frustrating experience. But frustrating isn't always bad, and here the loose, drifting storyline gives the film a unique style and atmosphere. You're never quite sure where the story will go next, and when Warren Oates arrives with a smile and willingness to party, there's a disorientating sense of unease as the beads of sweat drip off his quivering moustache. Cinematographer Michael Seresin, who would go on to work on the likes of Midnight Express, Angel Heart and the third Harry Potter, captures the country beautifully, imbuing the scenery with a sense of beauty and peace one minute, and a sense of terror the next. It all sounds a bit George Orwell, but it really isn't. It's actually much stranger than that, and has a rich vein of humour throughout, usually stemming from Smith's frustration as he unwillingly grows into a revolutionary leader. In many ways, it mirrors Gary Bond's experience trapped in the small, violent town of Ted Kotcheff's masterpiece Wake in Fright, only with less booze, more humour, and some bizarre turns along the way.


Directed by: Roger Donaldson
Starring: Sam Neill, Nevan Rowe, Ian Mune, Warren Oates, Clyde Scott
Country: New Zealand

Rating: ****

Tom Gillespie

Review #1,261: 'Sorcerer' (1977)

Due to its catastrophic failure at the box-office and underwhelming reception from critics, William Friedkin's Sorcerer will always find itself linked to the that floppiest of flops, Heaven's Gate. Yet while Michael Cimino's over-ambition caused costs to skyrocket (taking down iconic studio United Artists in the process) and the thought of a bum-numbing, slow-burn western proving rather unappealing to audiences, Sorcerer's failure is often chalked down to the timing of its release - alongside Star Wars, which, of course, rapidly became a pop culture phenomenon and a box-office smash. On paper, a remake of French classic The Wages of Fear seems like a terrible idea, but Friedkin's gruelling and visceral thriller has quite rightly received a critical re-evaluation of late, with many recognising it as The Exorcist director's greatest achievement.

Other than the basic set-up, Sorcerer shares little in common with Henri-Georges Clouzot's classic. It spends a lot of time establishing the four main characters and the sins that will eventually bring them together. In Mexico, Nilo (Francisco Rabal) casually assassinates a man using a gun with a silencer; in Israel, Kassem (Amidou), an Arab terrorist disguised as a Jew, causes a deadly explosion in Jerusalem; in France, businessman Victor (Bruno Cremer) is rumbled for fraud and given 24 hours to pay back an unrealistic amount of money otherwise he'll be turned into the authorities; and in the U.S., Irish gangster Jackie (Roy Scheider) sees a robbery go tits-up and a price placed on his head by a powerful mob boss. Their destiny lies in Porvenir, a remote village in Latin America. Following an oil well explosion, a lucrative job becomes available for four lucky men. Only the work entails transporting damaged dynamite containing unstable nitroglycerin across 200 miles of jungle, mud roads, crazy locals, and a broken down rope-bridge.

It takes a while for the unsavoury foursome to shift into gear, but when the engines start rumbling, backed by Tangerine Dream's hypnotic score, Friedkin takes us on a punishing journey into the heart of darkness. Like Herzog's Aguirre, The Wrath of God and Klimov's Come and See, Sorcerer makes the experience seem physically draining. The troubled shoot is etched on the character's faces; sun-scorched, sleep-deprived and eyes bulging with madness, you can really feel their torment. The scene that adorns the poster, in which the two bulky trucks must navigate across a rotten and flimsy rope-bridge in hammering rain, is truly one of the most nail-biting set-pieces ever made. It's a miracle they even managed to film such a complicated and dangerous-looking sequence, and this adds a real physicality to the action. There are pacing issues as the film over-milks its introductions, but the international cast are a pleasure to watch during these early vignettes. The Exorcist will always remain at the very top of the pile, but Sorcerer is certainly Friedkin's most misunderstood work, and one that deserves recognition as one of the last great movies from the New Hollywood era.


Directed by: William Friedkin
Starring: Roy Scheider, Bruno Cremer, Francisco Rabal, Amidou, Ramon Bieri
Country: USA

Rating: *****

Tom Gillespie

Review #1,214: 'Star Wars: Episode IV - A New Hope' (1977)

When sitting down to pen a review of such a colossal slice of cinema as George Lucas' original Star Wars, it's difficult to know quite where to start. What can be said about this movie that hasn't already been discussed to death by nerds, or studied to no end by film historians? Chances are you'll have already seen the movie and either love it or hate it, or you're one of those strange beings who has reached adulthood without seeing any of the series and have no doubt already formed a dismissive opinion of the space opera. The best approach is to simply talk about the film from a personal point of view, as if any movie has had such a personal effect on an audience, it's Star Wars. I'll state from the off that A New Hope - Episode 4 in Lucas' sweeping epic, but released first - was never my favourite as a child. That honour went to Return of the Jedi, the movie I now consider to be the worst by far of the original trilogy.

For those who haven't seen it yet, Star Wars is set "a long time ago, in a galaxy far, far away." The galaxy is in a state of civil war, and the threat of the Galactic Empire - led by the powerful Darth Vader - looms large, quite literally. Their latest weapon in the war is the Death Star; a moon-sized space station capable of destroying entire planets with the push of a button. Luckily for the Rebel Alliance, Princess Leia (Carrie Fisher) gets her hands on the plans to the Death Star, which reveal a flaw in its construction that could be exploited to destroy it. She uploads the plans to droid R2-D2 (Kenny Baker) and sends him to find Obi-Wan Kenobi, who is currently laying low on desert planet Tatooine. The rather cute robot eventually comes into the possession of young farmer Luke Skywalker (Mark Hamill), who believes the message may be for the reclusive old man Ben Kenobi (Alec Guinness). After locating the former Jedi, Luke starts to learn about the Force - a supernatural power derived from the galaxy's natural energy. Teaming up with smuggler Han Solo (Harrison Ford), Luke must get the plans to the Rebels before the Empire seize control.

Visiting it again at least 15 years since I last saw it, and coming off the back of watching the prequel trilogy first in my re-viewing, the film shone in a whole new light. From a cinephile's perspective, the influence of some of cinema's greats is as clear as day, something that escaped me as a child. Science fiction classics such as Stanley Kubrick's 2001: A Space Odyssey, Nicolas Roeg's The Man Who Fell to Earth and the 1936 version of Flash Gordon immediately came to mind, but George Lucas made sure Star Wars also felt fresh and new. He did this by blending space battles, humanoid droids and laser gun with an old-fashioned sensibility. This drew from the westerns of John Ford and Howard Hawks and the period adventures of Akira Kurosawa just as much as pulp science-fiction, and the result was something that audiences had never experienced before. It was a smash hit and quickly became a pop culture phenomenon, inspiring a whole generation of geeks to bring their own personal visions to the screen.

But Lucas also brings his own cards to the table in the form of some of the most bizarre and memorable collection of droids, monsters and aliens ever brought to the screen. There's the Sand People, the Jawas, Chewbacca the Wookie (Peter Mayhew), bickering robots C-3PO (Anthony Daniels) and R2-D2 (although they are clearly a rip-off of the peasants from Kurosawa's The Hidden Fortress), and of course that weird band of creatures playing in the bar. With such imagination on display, it's hard to believe that the best Lucas could come up with 22 years later was Jar-Jar Binks. The humans fare well too, with Ford on the top of his charm game, and Guinness bringing a thespian gravitas to the fantasy world. With the nightmare of the prequels over and the rights to the franchise now out of Lucas' tinkering hands, fans can now sleep somewhat easier, but Lucas will remain forever beloved for the work he did here back in 1977. He really should be remembered for that and not as the joke he became in his later career, and no doubt this cinematic milestone will continue to astound young audiences for plenty of years to come.


Directed by: George Lucas
Starring: Mark Hamill, Harrison Ford, Carrie Fisher, Alec Guinness, Peter Cushing, Anthony Daniels, Kenny Baker, Peter Mayhew
Country: USA

Rating: *****

Tom Gillespie

Review #1,126: 'The Car' (1977)

Owing much to the popular 'road movies' of the 1970's such as Vanishing Point, Death Race 2000 and, in particular, Steven Spielberg's Duel, Elliot Silverstein's The Car also takes its influence from another Spielberg movie, Jaws. Released in 1975, Jaws killed it at the box office as well as terrifying its audience members, and Universal was keen to replicate this formula, only this time on land. Spielberg played with people's fear of sharks and the unknown beasts lurking in the water, so what ignites the same kind of terror and has people fleeing for their lives on land? Cars, apparently, and here a small town in the deserts of New Mexico is stalked by a demonic Lincoln Continental.

Following the murder of two cyclists rammed off the road and a young hitchhiker crushed after insulting the passing vehicle, reports flood into the sheriff's office of an aggressive black car with apparently no driver. Sheriff Everett (John Marley) calls out for road-blocks to surround the town, but neighbouring areas never see the car enter or arrive. Chief Deputy Wade Parent (James Brolin) is having to deal with the issue of introducing his girlfriend Lauren (Kathleen Lloyd) to his daughters as a permanent member of the household, but this becomes the least of his problems when he finds himself placed in charge of saving his town from the unstoppable automobile.

The similarities to Jaws are numerous and The Car was universally panned upon release for being little more than a rip-off without any of Spielberg's technical mastery. However, the years have been kind to The Car and it comes across now as a rather charming slice of 70's exploitation. Although the premise is ridiculous and without explanation, it takes itself quite seriously, and the titular Lincoln proves itself to be an intimidating foe at times. There is also a surprising amount of attention given to the colourful supporting characters, including Marley as the ageing sheriff with a still-burning love for a domestically abused childhood sweetheart, and a recovering alcoholic cop played by Ronny Cox. A fun if forgettable little movie, perfect for a lazy Sunday afternoon.


Directed by: Elliot Silverstein
Starring: James Brolin, Kathleen Lloyd, John Marley, R.G. Armstrong, Ronny Cox
Country: USA

Rating: ***

Tom Gillespie

Review #840: 'The Incredible Melting Man' (1977)

Whilst on a space mission to Saturn, astronaut Steve West (Alex Rebar) is exposed to mysterious radiation which leaves him severely burned all over his body. His two fellow astronauts don't survive, and upon his return to Earth, Steve is bandaged and hospitalized by Lisle Wilson from Brian De Palma's Sisters (1977) while the doctors run further tests. He breaks free of his restraints and attacks a nurse, devouring her face and fleeing into the countryside. Dr. Ted Nelson (Burr DeBenning) is given the task to track down Steve before he commits more murders by General Perry (Myron Healey), who later joins him on the hunt.

Inspired by the Universal monster movies of the 30's and 40's, The Incredible Melting Man puts more focus on make-up and effects than blood and guts, which were on the rise due to the increasing popularity of slasher movies at the time. When Steve escapes the hospital, he begins to melt, his hands and face sliding off his skin in a vomit-inducing yellow and brown goo. Make-up artist Rick Baker's (of An American Werewolf In London (1981) and Videodrome (1983) fame) effects are, sadly, the only incredible thing about this cheap shlock-fest. A baffling script fails to explain just how Steve made it back home without his fellow astronauts, and more crucially, why he has suddenly developed a taste for human flesh and has gained super-strength. Even the movie's tagline, "the first new horror creature", makes no sense.

The appalling acting is made worse by some strange narrative decisions. One scene includes Dr. Nelson, having just been commanded by Perry to lead the search for Steve as a matter of extreme urgency, choose not to start straight away and instead goes home to his wife to complain about the fact that she didn't buy crackers. The film shifts between ridiculous domestic conversations and the ever-dripping murderous lunk biting, punching and decapitating his way through a highly-populated woodland area. Fans of drive-in exploitation will lap it up, and it at least moves at a fast pace, but The Incredible Melting Man is a half-baked idea thrown together without any consideration, redeemed somewhat by its wonderfully gruesome effects.


Directed by: William Sachs
Starring: Alex Rebar, Burr DeBenning, Myron Healey
Country: USA

Rating: **

Tom Gillespie

Review #820: 'Rabid' (1977)

After a near-fatal motorbike accident, Rose (Marilyn Chambers) undergoes experimental skin-graft surgery to help her recover from the horrific wounds she had inflicted. Luckily for her, and surprising to most of her doctors, her body takes to the transplants and starts an immediate recovery. However, the surgery has left her with a strange orifice under her armpit which contains a stringer. She is soon seducing men and infecting them, leaving her victims in a shocked state and unable to remember anything. An outbreak is soon on the cards as the infected go on a biting rampage, spreading a strange disease which causing the host to turn rabid and zombie-like.

Only his fourth feature, and only his second horror after Shivers (1975), this is not Canadian director David Cronenberg's finest achievement. But thankfully, a bulk Cronenberg's filmography is outstanding and Rabid is still an extremely effective little horror film. The infected are a mixture of zombies and vampires, although they aren't really either by definition, but Cronenberg uses them as well as anyone could hope for. The film is little more than a series of set-pieces, but one in particular, involving a woman on a packed trained slowly coming to the realisation that one of the infected is on board, is as good a scene depicting sheer terror and panic as I've ever seen.

Of course, this being Cronenberg, undertones of psychosexuality run throughout. It's no coincidence that the orifice underneath Rose's armpit looks like a vagina, and no surprise that it attacks with a phallic stinger. Rose's sexuality is her real weapon, as it lures her victims close enough for the attack. Whether it be a fear of women or a warning about progressive plastic surgery that her character is trying to articulate, ex-porn star Marilyn Chambers handles her role extremely well. Though she is naked for the most part, she convinces as a seemingly nice girl turned sexual predator. Cronenberg would translate similar themes into better films and he would go on to develop body horror into a true art-form, but Rabid is an accomplished early effort.


Directed by: David Cronenberg
Starring: Marilyn Chambers, Frank Moore, Joe Silver, Howard Ryshpan
Country: Canada

Rating: ****

Tom Gillespie

Review #548: 'Audrey Rose' (1977)

The 1970's saw the spiritual aspects of the late-'60's counter-culture reduced to commodity. Bookshops and alternative stores became filled with "New Age" paraphernalia and self-help guru's. Western culture was looking for a replacement for organised religion, but what also came with this commercial business which extrapolated ideas from philosophy, religion and even transcendental drug cultures, was the deconstruction of ancient Eastern ideologies. Chinese and Indian religious traditions were ransacked and certain ideas were extracted for consumer consumption in book-of-the-week, escapist fad. It is no mistake that Hollywood cinema, along with the literary industries, collided with supernatural tales. The heavy emphasis on the search for a modern spirituality, along with a deep-seated religious guilt, lead to some of horror cinema's great narratives (The Exorcist (1973), The Omen (1976)), and Audrey Rose took similar root.

Audrey Rose was adapted from screenwriter Frank De Fellita's own novel, and uses these cultural trends, along with the omnipresent use of an adolescent at the centre, and the concept of reincarnation as the basis for familial horror. The middle class New York Templeton family are approached by Elliot Hoover (Anthony Hopkins), who's wife and daughter had died in a car crash several years earlier. He then claims that their daughter, Ivy (Susan Swift), is the reincarnation of his daughter Audrey Rose. Ivy's night terrors increase in intensity, something that Hoover states is his daughter crying to get out off a burning car. As Hoover begins to get access to Ivy, even her mother Janice (Marsha Mason) begins to believe when he calms Ivy down by calling her Audrey.

Hopkins' performance is terrifically balanced, portraying the character with both a sinister quality and the intensity of the grieving father, believing that he is in the presence of his daughters soul. However, the first half of the film is the better experience here, beginning with the mystery of Hoover, as he seems to stalk the family. The second half is a bit of a drag, falling into repetition and over-the-top pop-psychology. Directed by seasoned director Robert Wise, who had dealt with the supernatural in the excellent The Haunting (1963), it does have some interesting scenes, but as a whole it lacks the intensity required for the story. Due to the central theme of the alteration of the child, like so many films of the time, it fears youth autonomy, but with the inclusion of the trend, it does often create inferior visual imitation.


Directed by: Robert Wise
Starring: Marsha Mason, Anthony Hopkins, John Beck
Country: USA

Rating: **

Marc Ivamy

Review #388: 'Let Me Die a Woman' (1977)

An extension of the Mondo-style documentary, with their "mission" to illustrate, and exploit unknown or forgotten cultural practises and habits, Doris Wishman's (see Review #298: 'Deadly Weapons' (1974)) Let Me Die a Woman follows the work of sex reassignment surgeon Dr Leo Wollman (who also acted as the films adviser), and his work with both post- and pre-op transsexuals. The film has interviews with the aforementioned doctor, along with several transsexuals in various stages of transformation, and also throws in some re-enactments and dramatisations of some of their experiences.

Whilst this is billed under the exploitation banner, and would have been shown in these types of cinema, the film is not overly exploitative, and presents the stories and their participants in quite a sympathetic manner. However, the film does explore, in a very graphically visual manner the operations required to alter the genitalia. Of course with this being made in the 1970's means that the screen is filled with incredibly hairy, militant-looking pubic areas, whilst these men with tits flash their flaccid cocks for the camera. In one scene the doctor probes a post-op vagina with his fingers - a sexual orifice so hideous that I simply had to avert my eyes.

Aside from the Mondo movies (and of course Faces of Death (1978) et al), I am not really aware of any other exploitation film that used this documentary style to expose new, sometimes weird phenomenon - except for Being Different (1981) that focused on exploiting circus sideshow acts, and included a modern day Elephant Man - so I am unqualified to state whether this film is emblematic of it's kind. What does strike me is the fact that this type of documentary was so new, and also that it was marginalised to the exploitation/grindhouse circuits. The subject matter, and the gratuitousness of the film highlights to me how this kind of "exploitation" is in fact now a fundamental part of prime-time television, with shows such as Embarrassing Bodies or any others of the many, many similar formats that infest our screens, in our homes, whilst we fucking eat our dinner! Given this parallel, and shift in the ways in which the participants are exploited in the modern-day TV show and the cinematic format, the film is pretty naive.


Directed by: Doris Wishman
Country: USA

Rating: **

Marc Ivamy

Review #301: 'Eaten Alive' (1977)

After being thrown out of a brothel for refusing randy redneck Buck (Robert Englund), prostitute Clara (Roberta Collins) stumbles into a run-down hotel run by lonesome weirdo Judd (Neville Brand). Upon finding out she is a prostitute, Judd forces himself on her, and when she struggles and runs away, he butchers her with a scythe and feeds her to his pet giant crocodile. A family arrive at the hotel only to have their pet dog eaten by the croc and their daughter narrowly escaping death. The bodies begin to pile up as Judd tries to protect his beloved man-eater, and when Clara's father and sister turn up, Judd must also evade being discovered by the law.

Following up a horror masterpiece like The Texas Chain Saw Massacre (1974) is hardly an envious task, but Tobe Hooper decided to stay in familiar surroundings with Eaten Alive (known as Death Trap in the UK). The Deep South provides plenty of opportunities to exploit the inbred yokel stereotype, and Tobe Hooper grabs it with both hands. Chain Saw was disturbing and occasionally genuinely frightening, but it appears that it was tragically a one-off. Eaten Alive contains none of the atmosphere or anything resembling those uncomfortable dinner scene moments of Chain Saw, and instead relies on a pleasingly over-the-top performance by Brand, and a terribly fake-looking rubber croc that appears all too fleetingly.

There are some likeable moments. Englund's character Buck (who has the film's brilliant introductory line "My name is Buck, and I'm here to fuck!" - homaged in Tarantino's Kill Bill: Volume 1 (2003)) is hilariously vile, but he is way underused. When the family arrives at the hotel, very little seems to happen. There is a murder here and there to lighten things up, but they are blandly staged. Hooper based the film on the real-life murderer Joe Ball who fed a suspected 20 women to his alligators back in the 1930's. It's a fascinating story ripe for a good film adaptation, but it is wasted by Hooper, who fails to squeeze any tension out of the proceedings.


Directed by: Tobe Hooper
Starring: Neville Brand, Mel Ferrer, Carolyn Jones, Marilyn Burns, Robert Englund
Country: USA

Rating: **

Tom Gillespie

Review #297: 'Jailbait Babysitter' (1977)

With typical exploitation tactics, the lurid title of this film, is incredibly misleading. A seeming gift for perverts, the concept of what the title offers, is not exactly what you get. This incredibly dull film follows Vicki (Therese Pare), a 17-year-old girl who won't "put out" to her boyfriend. (This is where the title comes into effect.) Vicki is visited by her boyfriend (shortly followed by a gang of drunken friends), and the "partying" begins. This protracted sequence, devoid of dialogue, simply shoots teens dancing inanely around, sometimes resembling home movies, with some dodgy stock "funky" music. One of the teens tries it on with a now dazed Vicki, who fights back and runs out of the home. She is then picked up randomly by Lorraine (Lyndia Wagner), who takes her into her home. She turns out to be a hooker, and unknown to Vicki, tries to teach her in the ways of the night.

This meandering narrative offers nothing but boredom. The pathetic character of Vicki, naive to the point of farce at times, just aggravating at best. There's a reference to My Fair Lady (1964), and attempts to weave this into a section where Vicki is shown acting like an adult, but failing. At times the film also thinks it's funny. So basically this is a tale of a precocious-seeming girl who won't have sex with her boyfriend because she wants to be with more mature people, but learns a lesson whilst trying to fit into that adult world. It just all looks so cheap. It has the same aesthetic as a hard core porn film of the period, that has been copied down on several generations of VHS pirating (or so I've heard!), but without the porn. It has very little nudity or sex either.


Directed by: John Hayes
Starring: Therese Pare, Roscoe Born, Lydia Wagner
Country: USA

Rating: *

Marc Ivamy

Review #286: 'The Kentucky Fried Movie' (1977)

Before Zucker/Zucker/Abrahams' success with Airplane! (1980), Top Secret (1983), The Naked Gun (1988), and John Landis' short series of good comedies National Lampoons Animal House (1978), The Blues Brothers (1980), An American Werewolf in London (1981), and Trading Places (1983), they collaborated on this "sketch" movie. Consisting of oh-so-very contemporary 1970's cultural tropes, the films mixture of spoof exploitation movie trailers ("You will cream in your jeans when you see..." Catholic High School Girls In Trouble; That's Armageddon; Cleopatra Schwartz), humorous commercials (which includes one quite disturbing, United Appeal for the Dead, that has a family keeping their son after death, showing him involved in everyday family activities), public service announcements and many references to Deep Throat (1972).

The stand out "Main Feature" is a parody of the 1973 breakthrough martial arts film, Enter the Dragon. As was exacerbated in the writers' next effort, the aforementioned Airplane!, the visual gags are sometimes quite brilliant. I first came across this film when I was quite young. I'm not really sure how this would be viewed today. As I mentioned, this is very much a part of the 1970's. But if you love the blaxploitation, sexploitation et al trailers and movies, then there is certainly some fun to be had with these. There's a splattering of double entendre, and a more exponentially greater visual helping of T&A. It is a good comedy sketch film, with the usual quality problems with the format (i.e. not all the parts will be as good as others). And for those who suffer from premature ejaculation, this film comes with... Big Jim Slade.


Directed by: John Landis
Starring: Evan C. Kim, Bong Soo Han, Bill Bixby, George Lazenby
Country: USA

Rating: ***

Marc Ivamy

Review #260: 'Pete's Dragon' (1977)

Pete (Sean Marshall) is a poor orphan boy who arrives in the small town of Passamaquoddy to escape his cruel, slave-driving adopted parents. The residents are generally nice folk, only they don't take too well to Pete due to his large, mainly invisible dragon named Elliott. The first person to see it is local loveable drunk Lampie (Mickey Rooney), who makes his concerns known only to be laughed at. So Pete is taken in by Lampie's daughter Nora (Helen Reddy), a lighthouse worker who is still pining for her partner who disappeared at sea almost a year prior. Trouble starts to brew though when a medicine wheeler-dealer named Dr. Terminus (Jim Dale) arrives in town and sees profit in the dragon.

One of Disney's few attempts to cash in on the success of Mary Poppins (1964), combining live-action with animation, Pete's Dragon is one of their lesser known efforts (although it does have it's nostalgia-filled fanbase). It was made in a time where freckly ginger kids were considered cute and likeable child characters, and the adults overacted to the point where they looked like they were presenting a children's TV show. Containing very few memorable songs (if any) and some very shoddy animation, Pete's Dragon is one of Disney's laziest and poorest productions. None of Disney's classic animators (the 'Nine Old Men') worked on the film and it shows. Of what little dragon there is, it appears very little effort or imagination was put into it.

Thank the lord then, for Dr. Terminus, played with enjoyable enthusiasm by Jim Dale (who appeared in a few Carry On films) who saves the film from complete embarrassment. He gets the best song 'Passamaquoddy', in which he tries to charm the townsfolk into buying his crap medicine that has already made one of them fat and turned another one of their hair pink, while repeatedly mispronouncing the name of the town. He's like a malpractising Del Boy, and is so enjoyable that I was rooting for him to get his hands on the annoying ginger kid and his crappily animated dragon. Not a total failure then, but instantly forgettable, overlong, excruciatingly squeaky-clean, and exhaustively enthusiastic.


Directed by: Don Chaffey
Starring: Sean Marshall, Helen Reddy, Jim Dale, Mickey Rooney, Red Buttons, Shelley Winters
Country: USA

Rating: **

Tom Gillespie

Review #208: 'The Beast in Heat' (1977)

Beautiful and sadistic Nazi officer Dr. Kratsch (Macha Magall) has created a horrific mutant beast who she keeps locked in a cage, offering it POW's to rape and feast upon. She aims to use her experiments to eventually win the war, but first must deal with the Italian resistance. After blowing up a bridge that was one of the keys to the Nazi's strategic positioning, the resistance plans to move into action as a few of their army are caught and are being subjected to the brutal experiments.

Also known as SS Hell Camp or, more laughably, Horrifying Experiments of SS Last Days, this is one of many Nazi exploitation movies released in the 70's and 80's (commonly known as 'nazisploitation'), and was only made notorious due to its placement on the Video Nasty list. Otherwise it would have become as forgetful as the likes of Hitler's Lust Train (1977) and SS Girls (1977). Inspired by movies such as Pasolini's Salo, Or The 120 Days Of Sodom (1975) and Cavani's The Night Porter (1974), both European art-house films, the nazisploitation sub-genre commonly consisted of brutal experimentation, degrading masochistic sexual acts, dominatrix female wardens, and generally being very, very shit. The Beast in Heat does not disappoint in this department, although it is one of the few to truly live up to its 'nasty' title.

Not to say the film is effective in any way, but sitting through torture scenes such as a woman having electric shocks applied to her vagina, someone having their insides eaten by guinea-pigs, and a woman being raped by the 'Beast' who rips off chunks of her pubic hair and eats it, is rather unpleasant. This is repulsive film-making at its most desperate. It is so devoid of ideas or artistic flair that it must try to amp up the shock factor to the max to render itself memorable. The beast itself is actually just a pretty ugly guy with big lips, a stunted stature, and a boil on his arse. It's a film full of memorably awful moments, and it's unnerving to see a director so blasé about his work that he would allow a panning shot that clearly shows the shadows of himself, the camera and half his crew to remain in the film. Almost as bad as the Nazi party itself.


Directed by: Luigi Batzella
Starring: Macha Magall, Gino Turini, Edilio Kim
Country: Italy

Rating: **

Tom Gillespie

Review #158: 'New York, New York' (1977)

V-J Day in 1945, saxophonist Jimmy Doyle (Robert De Niro) is mercilessly pestering girls for phone numbers. He eventually spots Francine Evans (Liza Minnelli) sat on her own and so he begins working on getting her number, but she refuses. After an eventful night, the two end up sharing a cab, and Francine ends up joining Jimmy at his saxophone audition. She also begins to sing, and the two and snapped up as a double act. And so begins a journey through the glitzy heights of 1940's and 50's showbiz, as the two fall in and out of love and experience the highs and lows of the business.

Martin Scorsese's epic homage to the musicals of the 1950's was originally cut down from four and a half hours to just over two hours for its cinematic release, only to be panned by critics. It was then re-released years later with 20 minutes of footage restored, to critical acclaim. The section that was restored was the musical number that showed a film-within-the-film called 'Happy Endings', that Minnelli's character stars in. Much like the long ballet sequence in 1948's The Red Shoes (clearly an influence here - one of De Niro's alias' is M. Powell), it's a dazzling twenty minutes that looks less like a homage and more like a scene taken directly from an MGM musical. Mr. Scorsese clearly knows his cinema.

Yet when the film is not pleasing the eyes with the musical numbers and sweeping cinematography, we are forced to sit through the breakdown of a poisonous marriage between two generally unlikeable characters. Jimmy and Francine are both fiercely career-driven, and the film shows how damaging this can be, but De Niro's egotistical musician is virtually the same character that was developed better in the likes of Mean Streets (1973) and Raging Bull (1980). Minnelli, an actress/singer I've always failed to see the appeal in, is just not good enough to breath life into her already thinly-realised character.

However there is much to admire. Nobody can capture the spirit of the old films like Scorsese can, and he goes some way homaging the likes of Singin' In The Rain (1952) and Gentlemen Prefer Blondes (1953). The sets, cinematography, camera movements and every else in the technical sense are excellent. It's only the story that is lacking. It seems to be determined to be labelled an 'epic', but the 160+ minute running time does not have enough going for it to hold the attention that long.


Directed by: Martin Scorsese
Starring: Robert De Niro, Liza Minnelli, Lionel Stander, Barry Primus
Country: USA

Rating: ***

Tom Gillespie

Review #81: 'Fight for Your Life' (1977)

When three prisoners escape from a prison van when it crashes, they begin a deadly cross-country crime spree before hiding out in a remote house belonging to a black minister and his family. The self-appointed 'leader' of the gang Jessie Lee Kane (William Sanderson) is full of racial hate and aggression and begins a sadistic tirade against the poor family. With the police on their trail, they must decide their next step, or if they should hold out where they are and enjoy themselves while they can. The minister Ted Turner (Robert Judd) is a reserved and proud man, willing to do anything to protect his family, and is gradually being pushed further and further over the edge by the increasingly violent threesome.

Listed as one of the notorious 'video nasties' back in 1984, it is the only film to be banned based solely on the language used. After watching the film, it's not difficult to see why. Don't get me wrong, I think censorship is just a scapegoat for problems on a larger scale and the films on the video nasty list were mainly hilarious anyway, but the amount of racial slurs bounded about in the film is just offensive and wholly unnecessary. This is not a racist film by any means - if anything it falls into the traditions of the blaxploitation genre - but in one scene the 'n' word must be used by the same person about fifty times in the space of a couple of minutes. Okay, we get it, Kane is a racist scumbag, we don't have to hear it in every sentence.

It's unfortunate, as the film has some good moments, and its production value seems to be evidently better than the majority of Grindhouse films at the time. Sanderson convinces in the lead role, and would go on to star as J.F. Sebastian the toy-maker in Blade Runner (1982), and appeared in HBO's Deadwood and True Blood. The film just unfortunately revels in its violence and racial abuse. Only worth seeing for the scene where a wheelchair-bound grandma points a gun and shouts "don't move, or I'll blow your motherfuckin' balls off!"

Directed by: Robert A. Endelson

Starring: William Sanderson, Robert Judd, Catherine Peppers

Country: USA

Rating: **

Tom Gillespie

Review #63: 'Chatterbox' (1977)

The 1970’s marked a change in sexual liberation. What was, and still is called a sexual revolution. This was marked by the rise of hard-core pornography within mainstream culture. A situation (fad if you like) that was short in popularity. It’s most famous, and popular ‘poster’ for this was the ‘high concept’ premise of 1972’s Deep Throat. This film (that was released in seemingly austere cinemas) had the story of a woman who’s clitoris was found at the back of her throat. This was a concept brought forward into popular culture simply by the film’s star, Linda Lovelace’s, ability to take the shaft of a penis deep into her throat. This is now of course a staple of the porn film (now into extremes of gagging from this concept – ad nauseum). This film bred a stream of hard porn films that felt the need for some kind of story. This was later diminished by video, which subsequently killed ‘cinematic’ pornography. (Probably a good thing really. There is only so much narrative you can create around a fuck movie.)

So, within this concept of a new liberalism within the parameters of sexuality within cinema, there was clearly room for this high concept sexual obscurity within the non-pornographic comedy film. This is where our film, Chatterbox enters. Made in 1977 towards the end of this ‘deviant’ progression through sexual mores; it’s not hard-core porn. It’s not even soft-core porn. It is simply a concept film, placed within the ideas of the hard/soft porn fashion of the time. It is a late comer really with this idea, as the porn industry would soon be broken down, and marginalised to be entirely filmed on video. Ok, so there really is no reason for hard core porn to have story, as we all realise in the world we live in today with its compilations of cum shots et al. But, I digress.

Chatterbox really has no connection to the porn industry as it was then, and certainly not as it is now. I simply open with this idea due to the fact that it does possess the qualities that Deep Throat set out to show. That is, a concept around sexuality that not only visualises something new, but also participates in a knowing joke. Deep Throat's concept was/is essentially a form of comedy (something you are highly unlikely to see in pornography outside of the 1970’s). Not necessarily a bad thing. They should be separated. Well, anyway, the film I’m supposed to be talking about is so far removed from porn. It is simply a comedy with tits and ass!! So I digress yet again. Well, I don’t, because I haven’t even started on the film.

Chatterbox tells the story of Penelope Pittman (Candice Rialson), who has an issue with her vagina. The problem is, it is able to talk, with a completely separate mind and outlook of itself. In the opening scene, we see Penelope in sexual congress with her boyfriend Ted (Perry Bullington). Her wise-cracking (no pun intended) vagina begins a torrent of abuse that forces Ted to leave believing that Penelope is responsible for such hurtful diatribes. This would mark the end of the relationship, something Penelope is concerned about. Her concern is realised when she goes to see Dr Pearl, who confirms (and is shown clearly) that her vagina can talk. This sparks dollar signs in the eyes of the psychologist, who pursues a career for the seemingly shy Penelope (or specifically her talking/singing vagina – later to be named Virginia).

Penelope works in a hair salon, and has no allusions to fame. However, with such a talented singing star in her vagina, Dr Pearl sees things very differently. This is essentially a rags to riches story, if you like. But Penelope, in all her innocence, is clearly never comfortable with this stardom. She only really wants to get rid of the affliction and find her ‘knight in shining armour’.

Well, the story is obvious. The film itself is low-low budget. It shows. But I think it adds to its charm. Yes, it does have charm. The acting is atrocious. We even see the boom-mic in several shots (a ‘mistake’ that is often used these days to parody – or even pay homage – to bad filmmaking in the past; just look at the brilliant Garth Merenghi’s Dark Place as just one example). The film is punctuated by incidental music that reminded me of the same music of a Hanna-Babera cartoon of the ’60’s and ‘70’s (i.e. Scooby-Doo, Hong Kong Phooey et al.) I was even thinking about the similarities of the main characters name to the Hanna-Babera creation of Penelope Pittstop – maybe this is unfounded, but....

Virginia becomes an over-night singing sensation in the film. Much to the chagrin of Penelope, who is clearly looking for Mr. Right in the world, whilst Virginia is only really after a good hard fuck. It may well be a juxtaposition of the female revolution that prevailed in the ‘70’s. In that women had to mix the reality of promiscuity with the more promising aspect of longevity. The film is a certain piece of fun, that can be read in many ways. Thinking about it now, I could probably continue writing, as it was a) made in a time of rife political and sexual revolution, and b) has a certain comedy charm that is not necessarily funny now, but has something to say about how much sexuality, and the objectivity of females has changed.

I believe this is a thoroughly awful film. But it really has a charm to it that would make me recommend it to someone I know may appreciate its flaws. Whilst it is a very silly ‘comedy’, it also encapsulates a time of innocence. Yes sexuality was out-to-bear, but there was a complete innocence surrounding that. We are currently in a state of sexual ambiguity, simply because variety has been so degraded (and I do believe that film has played a part in this), and we find society focusing on tiny elements of sexuality (case in point – this is one example – the obsession with feet). I believe this has become a facet of sexuality due to photography and cinemas ability to frame aspects of the body, focusing on ‘parts’ of the body, and not representing the whole.

I’m really not sure if I’ve represented this film at all! But in a strange way I really enjoyed its innocent charm. An innocence that we should all enjoy in hindsight of the sexual downer that subsequently happened a decade later with the onset of aids! Yes, that’s how you end a fluffy review!!

Directed by: Tom DeSimone
Starring: Candice Rialson, Larry Gelman, Jane Kean
Country: USA

Rating: ***

Marc Ivamy