Skip to main content

Writing Roundup: Retro Trash Edition


In the rabid movie-loving corner of Twitter known as #filmtwitter, June has become synonymous with "Junesploitation," a month-long celebration of all things exploitation cinema—trashy slashers, blaxploitation, Andy Sideris's bullets and babes flicks, silly space opera, teensploitation, and so many more, including nunsploitation of all things.

For a lot of us, every month is a celebration of exploitation cinema, of course. Between falling down the rabbit hole that is Tubi's enormous selection of trash cinema, and Joe Bob Briggs's recent season of The Last Drive-In on Shudder, my viewing habits of late are all about trash. Which is just how I like it.

Fittingly then, my first "Writing Roundup" of the year consists entirely of reviews of cult films plus a heartfelt appreciation for a woman who played a big role in igniting my love for B-movies in the first place. It's been a long time since I've done one of these roundups, so here are several months' worth of posts from around the interwebs, at cool sites like Diabolique Magazine, The After Movie Diner, and the brand-spankin' new Retro Network, for whom I'm proud to have been the author of their launch-day headlining article (which is listed below).


Here are the articles, along with some excerpts to whet your appetite.

Stripped to Kill


"I can’t be certain that Katt Shea’s sexploitation flick Stripped to Kill (1987) holds the record for most gratuitous butt shots, but it features so many of them in the first five minutes alone that I’m confident in declaring it at least a contender for the crown.
The story is almost elegant in its simplicity: Hot police detective Kay Lenz goes undercover as a hot stripper to find a serial killer who’s offing strippers. That’s it, that’s all you need to know. The rest is gravy."
Read the rest here.

Stripped to Kill II: Live Girls


"Then there’s the star of the film, Maria Ford, as the fragile bombshell Shady. Ford’s performance is one of the more devastatingly vulnerable you’re ever likely to see. Shady is cursed with (possibly psychic) heightened, surrealistic nightmares wherein she appears to be murdering her friends with a razor blade. Waking up traumatized after each fever dream, she’s shaken to her core and often times covered in blood, only to learn that whomever she dreamed about killing has actually been killed in real life. Thus the film’s central mystery: Is Shady slicing up her fellow strippers, or is someone intentionally setting her up? Ford plays Shady’s anguish and confusion with heartbreaking sorrow. It may sound like hyperbole, but it’s a tour-de-force performance, and one of the best I’ve seen from exploitation films of that era."

Read the rest here.

Staying Up All Night with Rhonda Shear


"Rhonda combined jaw-dropping sex appeal with impeccable comedic timing. Obviously, Elvira is the Queen of that particular combination, but for a few years in the ’90s, Rhonda was right there. Rhonda’s witticisms delivered directly to us the audience at each commercial break, never failed to make these already enjoyable B-movies even better. For an audience full of red-blooded American male teenagers, it certainly didn’t hurt that she dispensed these jokes while rolling around in bed wearing lingerie or while being joined by various B-movie scream queens like Linnea Quigley and Michelle Bauer."
Read the rest here.

Necropolis


"It's no exaggeration to say that every aspect of Necropolis (1986) revolves around 1980s cult film icon LeeAnne Baker's garter-belted and silk-stocking-covered gams and the clickity-clack sound of her sky-high heels on cement floors. That is, when it's not revolving around her performing some sort of weird, kinky, ritualistic, exotic dance number in the name of Satan. As the 'Satanic Witch' sucking the life force out of unsuspecting dolts, LeeAnne Baker is truly a jaw-dropping presence."

Read the rest here.

Ninja III: The Domination


"Last year Shout! Factory reissued the film on Blu-ray in a gorgeously packaged new Collectors Edition, complete with informative and often hilarious interviews with cast and crew. Seems a good enough excuse to talk about how amazing this film really is. Take a minute, if you will, and appreciate the simplistic beauty of the first sentence in the film's IMDb description:

The body of a sexy aerobics instructor is invaded by the evil spirit of a dying ninja.

Direct, honest, straight to the core of what this film is about: a hot woman, ninjas, and their unholy alliance."

Read the rest here.

Hollywood Chainsaw Hookers


"Michelle Bauer might actually be the MVP of Hollywood Chainsaw Hookers. As the unhinged sexpot Mercedes, she also does what she does better than anyone in B-movies of that era, which is to say she brings the heat - and the comedy. She was once aptly described as, 'the bee's knees when it comes to being facetious while naked and crazy,' and truer words have never been written. This is one of her most salaciously hilarious performances, which is impressive when you consider her career."

Read the rest here.

*****

If you asked me to rank the five films reviewed above, this would be my list:

5. Necropolis—This one only works because of LeeAnn Baker's sizzling lead performance, but otherwise not much to recommend.

4. Stripped to Kill—Katt Shea's excellent erotic thriller with some solid acting and, of course, lots-o-stripping.

3. Stripped to Kill II—Shea's sequel is slightly better than the original, thanks in part to a memorably heartbreaking performance from star Maria Ford, plus once again features lots-o-stripping.

(tie) 1. Ninja III: The Domination—One of the great B-movies of all time, in my estimation, with a kickbutt and totally cool Lucinda Dickey managing to make V8 juice sexy.

(tie) 1. Hollywood Chainsaw Hookers—Also one of the best B-movies of all time because, like Ninja III, it's endlessly entertaining; also features terrific performances from exploitation legends like Linnea Quigley and Michelle Bauer.

*****

Now let's close out with a poster gallery because all of these trashy masterpieces give good art.






Rhonda recommends you stay up all night and marathon these suckers.


Comments

Popular posts from this blog

Blowing in the Wind: Marilyn Monroe and That Iconic White Dress

This month marks sixty-five years since one of the most iconic moments in twentieth-century popular culture: Marilyn Monroe’s angelic white dress being blown sky high by wind rushing up from a subway grate beneath her feet in the film  The Seven Year Itch . Billy Wilder shot multiple takes, while Sam Shaw snapped photo after photo for what had to be the biggest publicity stunt ever staged at the time. Marilyn wore two pairs of underwear for the shot, yet, as noted in Lois Banner's critical biography Marilyn: The Passion and the Paradox  (2012), "a dark blotch of pubic hair" remained visible to the 100 male photographers and over 1,500 male spectators, all of whom crowded eagerly around the set to gawk and drool.  Due to strict 1950s movie censorship laws, photos had to be doctored to white out the offending blotch, but those in attendance saw it, over and over, shot after shot. Marilyn's husband at the time, the extremely old fashioned Joe DiMaggio, stormed off th

All I Want For Christmas: Phoebe Cates's Monologue in Gremlins

Joe Dante's 1980s classic Gremlins will always be a subversive Christmas favorite. From Spike exploding in the microwave to Mrs. Daigle's "stairlift to hell", the movie is packed with deliciously transgressive moments that turn the holly jolly season right on its ear. None are more memorable, though, than Phoebe Cates delivering her legendary "worst thing that ever happened to me on Christmas" monologue. It's a jaw-dropping, tour-de-force moment, a truly horrific story that's also one of the most darkly comic moments in Christmas movie history. Cates really shines during this scene. There's no denying just how seminal that scene of hers in Fast Times at Ridgemont High was for a generation of young people, but her speech in Gremlins is equally important and a wonderful showcase for her serious and comedic acting skills.  Here's the speech, in its entirety. No Christmas season is complete without at least one viewing

It Came From the '90s: Kelly Bundy and the Alternative Family Ideal

This series looks back at the 1990s and its influence on the generation of people who came of age during the decade. Very few television series in the 1990s were as polarizing as Married...with Children . People either loved it or they loathed it. TV critics and good upstanding Catholic families like mine fell into the latter category. Soon after it debuted during my first year of junior high in 1987 (not quite the '90s, but on the brink), my parents made it clear that we would not be watching. I believe the words they used were "vulgar," "unfunny," and, one of their perennial favorites, "risque." Of course, this meant it immediately took on a prurient appeal for me. Parents can never win, honestly. Kelly Bundy—the talented Christina Applegate, who never gets enough credit for elevating the blonde airhead trope into an art form—only further piqued my interest. She was like the girls in school with the absurdly voluminous hair and ridiculously sh

"That girl looks just like Pat Benatar"

Linda, that girl looks just like Pat Benatar. I know. Wait, there are three girls here at Ridgemont who have cultivated the Pat Benatar look. I was just a kid when Fast Times at Ridgemont High opened in 1982. Still though, even at the tender young age of seven, I knew who Pat Benatar was, because a.) her music was all over the radio and even then I recognized the utter awesomeness of her vocal talent in songs like "Hit Me With Your Best Shot", and b.) some of the older girls around town were obviously cribbing their looks—clothes, hair, makeup, strut—from Benatar's own style. Benatar was ubiquitous. So, when I see or hear vintage-era Benatar now, I think of Fast Times , but mostly I remember that ubiquity—of both the performer and her legion of young imitators. I know it's not true, but when I recollect those years I swear every older girl looked like either Benatar, Juice Newton, or Joan Jett. It's easy to forget, years later, that

Misspent Youth: Joanne Whalley

Looking back at the pop culture mainstays of this Gen-Xer's gloriously misspent youth. One of the most famous and oft-quoted Seinfeld scenes involves Bobka and Jerry's discovery of the existence of Cinnamon Bobka. After Elaine scoffs at the notion of such a thing, even calling it a "lesser Bobka," Jerry unleashes one of the great defenses of a freshly ground spice ever delivered: People love cinnamon. It should be on tables at restaurants along with salt and pepper. Anytime anyone says, "Oh This is so good. What's in it?" The answer invariably comes back, Cinnamon. Cinnamon. Again and again.  Joanne Whalley is like Cinnamon. Yes, I just compulsively double-checked my DVD copy and it's the unrated version, thank you very much. Let me explain. You see, during the formative years of my misspent youth, if I stumbled on a movie featuring the doe-eyed, petite, beautiful English actress, invariably I'd feel like Jerry does about Cin

Misspent Youth: Randi Brooks

Looking back at the pop culture mainstays of this Gen-Xer's gloriously misspent youth. ***** A note on the series and this site: This might be the final post in the "Misspent Youth" series - at least here. Maybe it'll eventually move with me. Oh, right, I buried the lede: I've moved, and would love for you to come visit me at my new site, The Starfire Lounge ! Moving forward, this site will likely cease to be updated, but will remain around for posterity and your continued reading pleasure. I have a few more things to post here over the coming days or weeks as a sort of "everything must go" send-off to the old girl. I also plan to write a final farewell post to my main online home for the last five years. Stay tuned and, as always, thanks for reading. ***** It's no surprise that the talented but now mostly forgotten Randi Brooks would make an appearance in the Misspent Youth series. She may not be a household name, but her resume

Margot Kidder and the Childhood Crush That Will Never Die

"I dream about sex, flying, and being chased by Nazis." — Margot Kidder,  Rolling Stone , "The Education of Margot Kidder", 1981 ***** File that quote under, "Reasons why I love Margot Kidder." Last month, Margot hopped a one-way flight with old pal Chris Reeve off into the stars and beyond, where they could reenact their iconic moment from  Superman  (1978), for all eternity. I wrote a little about Margot, here and here , trying to explain why this particular actress meant so much to me as a kid growing up in the 1980s. I thought that would be enough. It wasn't.* Those posts were my fumbling attempts to sort out just how large an impact Margot had on my young life, and, to my present-day surprise, how much she still means to me now. Before news of her death, I hadn't thought of her in ages. I assumed the early childhood crush I harbored for my Lois Lane had dwindled and faded. Ha! I was a fool. My crush on Margot was very

It Came From the '90s: My Secret Crush on The Nanny

This series looks back at the 1990s and its influence on the generation of people who came of age during the decade. For six seasons in the 1990s, The Nanny made many of us laugh. At times, it could be downright hilarious . At others, well, not so much . This isn't a review of a '90s sitcom staple, though. No. This is simply an excuse to come clean about something I've kept buried deep inside for over two decades now: I had a secret crush on The Nanny herself, Fran Drescher. The unadulterated nineties-ness of this is practically blinding. And I love it. While The Nanny was sometimes quite funny, thanks largely to Drescher's spunky charisma and wholehearted commitment, the show was never considered hip. People my parents age seemed to love it, but my friends preferred, well, Friends . That smile! Those legs! That dress! It's all overloading my circuits. I watched Friends with my friends, but I also thoroughly enjoyed The Nanny , to

"Opium Wars" by Zoe Lund

She wants there to be more of her. More space taken by her body, More decibels conquered by her voice, More time by her wakefulness, More equations by her addition. She wants more, I want less. Her blade is rusty, musty, sweaty and vain. I like it clean and sharp and dark-bright. She traffics in surplus, I bare my essentials. Her world is elastic but brittle. Mine is bony but moonlit. Hers flows, she ebbs. Mine ebbs, I flow. She dies in life, I live in death. —Zoe Lund, “Opium Wars”

Misspent Youth: Morgan Fairchild

Looking back at the movies, music, television, and other pop culture mainstays of this Gen-Xer's gloriously misspent youth. Once I decided that Morgan Fairchild would be the subject of the next installment in this series, I did what I usually do and researched online for a bit, just to refresh my memory on details that might've previously been lost to time. Morgan Fairchild was legitimately one of the most potent sex symbols of the 1970s and '80s. Not that I needed much refresher when it came to Fairchild. Born Patsy Ann McClenny in Dallas, Texas, February 3, 1950, the American actress was everywhere during those oh-so-crucial formative years of my pop culture obsession. She loomed large in the growing ranks of proto-haughty glamour queens, a trope that was hot on prime time TV in the 1980s. The characters she was most well-known for were drop-dead gorgeous and didn't suffer fools lightly. Really, few ever did it better than Fairchild. The shirt do