RECENT VIEWINGS (Bad Movie Thread!)

[Alex]

The Spork of Pleasure and Death (the 3-D version.)

I think I read about that one quite recently.

[ER]

The Spork of Pleasure and Death (the 3-D version.)

I think I read about that one quite recently.

Such a twist ending! I didn't see him coming like that.

[M.10rda]

Is that a put-on? A Google search returned no results.......

[chainsaw midget]

Because it came up in another topic, I tracked down and watched the Insane Clown Posse western, Big Money Rustlas.  (I found it on youtube.) 

It's actually entertaining and I don't mean unintentionally.  There are legitimately funny moments that made me laugh out loud and lot of the movie has a sort of Troma feel to it where you know it's bad and they know it's bad, but that's what makes it fun. 

There's a midget love interest. 

It also has Jason Mews in one of his few roles that don't mention weed or Silent Bob.

[M.10rda]

You found it! I'll have to watch it on YT. Your positive comments apply also to the previous entry, B.M. HUSTLAS (minus the love interest, iirc).

[Dr. Whom]

Wizard of Mars (1965)

In the distant year 1975 a spaceship carrying out a survey of Mars crashes on the planet. Will the four astronauts survive until help comes?

My God, this was boring. Ostensibly an adaptation of Wizard of Oz, this movie has absolutely nothing to offer. The first 45 minutes are largely taken up by walking through a cave and across a desert, while a voice off tries to hype things up. Instead you get nothing, no incident, no tension, no character development, just some inane dialogue delivered with extraordinary flatness. The quest ends with the disembodied head of John Carradine giving lengthy exposition. The only action comes when they essentially have to change a lightbulb to set time back in motion and all ends well.

I watched this on YT and in the end I was welcoming the commercial breaks as a relief from the boredom.

[RCMerchant]

^ That film is truly horrific, and not in a good way.

[M.10rda]

WIZARD OF MARS is terrible but at least it's less odious than

THE BEAT GENERATION (1959):
Second viewing of an Albert Zugsmith AIP production co-written by Richard Matheson (!). I remember kinda' digging it and finding it interesting several years back but I was probably drinking when I first watched it. It's definitely very interesting but mostly for all the wrong reasons. It opens in the informal "beat" nightclub/hangout where much of the action takes place and where Louis Armstrong inexplicably performs w/ his entire orchestra and is on a first-name basis w/ the thuggish local white cops. Following ONE brief sub-scene of truly dank, remarkably hilarious "beat" dialogue, Matheson and his collaborator just give up on putting in the effort and everyone talks more or less normally for the rest of the movie. (Diablo Cody may have taken notes here...)

The main plot focuses on a hep-talking home invader/serial rapist who selects the innocent wife of the cop pursuing him as his next target, just for "kicks". That cop is an acknowledged misogynist who thinks all women are whores and suggests that every female victim in the film was in some way asking for sexual assault - including, ultimately, his own wife! When she reveals (post-attack) that she's pregnant and doesn't know if the baby is her husband's or the rapist's, Dirty Harry forbids her to get an abortion - not because he wants to raise the child regardless (he doesn't), but (as he insists repeatedly, pathologically) "it's illegal... it's against the law!". All of this is entirely stomach-churning and made me think I'd nodded off for long stretches of TBG the first time I watched it. There is a certain criticality to the first half of Matheson's screenplay, as he at least is raising some pertinent questions about toxic masculinity et al, and as the character of the wife is presented as extremely sympathetic and reasonable. Yet the film ultimately reaches all the wrong conclusions, most despicably in a scene where the wife's best friend escorts her to the neighborhood priest for advice, and the priest (played by uncredited ubiquitous white guy William Schallert) solemnly assures her that, regardless of the circumstances, she will be murdering her unborn child. I've wanted to punch a few priests IRL but I don't think I've ever wanted to beat up a movie priest as much as I wanted to slug the s**t out of Father Schallert in this scene.

Making matters worse, the film is essentially HEAT with Ray Danton's highly compelling yet detestable rapist in the DeNiro role and Steve Cochran's vacuous dullard fascist detective in the Pacino role. As they finally grapple mano a mano at the climax - underwater, no less! - it's impossible to root for one or the other. I tried to forget I'd already seen the ending years ago and hoped both's lungs would implode or they'd be devoured by sharks. No such luck. What's additionally worrisome and perplexing is that the beatniks who populate the film's background are incidental to the plot, thus presumably Zugsmith and Co. were either trying to repackage their crime potboiler w/ a topical facade or else they were really trying to put over the notion that the nihilist rapist was an accurate reflection of the characters of Kerouac, Ginsburg, and Burroughs. (Okay, maybe Burroughs was fair game.)

The least offensive "interesting" aspect of THE BEAT GENERATION remains its large ensemble cast of (seemingly) whoever was wandering by AIP's front doors that week. Jackie "Uncle Fester" Coogan plays a large and completely serious supporting role as the voice of reason, which in and of itself seems emblematic of TBG's compromised worldview. Coogan is also credited as "Dialogue Coach", which is nothing to brag about in light of the performances of James "Jim" Mitchum (son of Bob), who does a great job as Danton's accomplice when he's silent though blows it every time he opens his mouth; and Mamie Van Doren, who's competent at best as the bait that Cochran uses to try to snare Danton. Better value is delivered by a completely unrecognizable Vampira (!!!) who stops in for one scene where she reads some mediocre poetry and looks more like Mary Woronov in a butch haircut. But honestly the most amusing aspects of TBG are two bit players that hang out in the background for most of the film before figuring briefly in the final act: Norman Grabowski, who looks like a heavyweight boxer but moves and behaves like Marcel Marceau, and "Slapsy Maxie" Rosenbloom, who looks and acts like a drunk Curly Howard and steals the show when he decides to whup the tar out of loathsome fascist Cochran. Neither Grabowski nor Rosenbloom are remotely credible as young beatniks - both look like they're pushing 50 at least - but in this case Zugsmith's cluelessness about his milieu at least yielded some authentic entertainment.

Honestly TBG isn't badly made at all - it's just an ugly thing to endure in a post-Dobbs world and particularly in a week where one of Weinstein's convictions was overturned.
2/5
Will not watch again.

(If you've seen at least a couple AIP or Corman films you'll likely recognize the beachside bungalow where the beatniks hang out.)

[Rev. Powell]

THE EXOTIC ONES (1968): A New Orleans strip club decides a swamp monster (actually a tall shirtless guy with a bad haircut) would make a good attraction for raincoaters. A movie about strippers and monsters should not be this talky and boring, but at least there's a stripper who drinks a glass of water while doing a handstand, a catfight, and a serenade from a giant harmonica. 1.5/5.

[RCMerchant]

WIZARD OF MARS is terrible but at least it's less odious than

THE BEAT GENERATION (1959):
Second viewing of an Albert Zugsmith AIP production co-written by Richard Matheson (!). I remember kinda' digging it and finding it interesting several years back but I was probably drinking when I first watched it. It's definitely very interesting but mostly for all the wrong reasons. It opens in the informal "beat" nightclub/hangout where much of the action takes place and where Louis Armstrong inexplicably performs w/ his entire orchestra and is on a first-name basis w/ the thuggish local white cops. Following ONE brief sub-scene of truly dank, remarkably hilarious "beat" dialogue, Matheson and his collaborator just give up on putting in the effort and everyone talks more or less normally for the rest of the movie. (Diablo Cody may have taken notes here...)

The main plot focuses on a hep-talking home invader/serial rapist who selects the innocent wife of the cop pursuing him as his next target, just for "kicks". That cop is an acknowledged misogynist who thinks all women are whores and suggests that every female victim in the film was in some way asking for sexual assault - including, ultimately, his own wife! When she reveals (post-attack) that she's pregnant and doesn't know if the baby is her husband's or the rapist's, Dirty Harry forbids her to get an abortion - not because he wants to raise the child regardless (he doesn't), but (as he insists repeatedly, pathologically) "it's illegal... it's against the law!". All of this is entirely stomach-churning and made me think I'd nodded off for long stretches of TBG the first time I watched it. There is a certain criticality to the first half of Matheson's screenplay, as he at least is raising some pertinent questions about toxic masculinity et al, and as the character of the wife is presented as extremely sympathetic and reasonable. Yet the film ultimately reaches all the wrong conclusions, most despicably in a scene where the wife's best friend escorts her to the neighborhood priest for advice, and the priest (played by uncredited ubiquitous white guy William Schallert) solemnly assures her that, regardless of the circumstances, she will be murdering her unborn child. I've wanted to punch a few priests IRL but I don't think I've ever wanted to beat up a movie priest as much as I wanted to slug the s**t out of Father Schallert in this scene.

Making matters worse, the film is essentially HEAT with Ray Danton's highly compelling yet detestable rapist in the DeNiro role and Steve Cochran's vacuous dullard fascist detective in the Pacino role. As they finally grapple mano a mano at the climax - underwater, no less! - it's impossible to root for one or the other. I tried to forget I'd already seen the ending years ago and hoped both's lungs would implode or they'd be devoured by sharks. No such luck. What's additionally worrisome and perplexing is that the beatniks who populate the film's background are incidental to the plot, thus presumably Zugsmith and Co. were either trying to repackage their crime potboiler w/ a topical facade or else they were really trying to put over the notion that the nihilist rapist was an accurate reflection of the characters of Kerouac, Ginsburg, and Burroughs. (Okay, maybe Burroughs was fair game.)

The least offensive "interesting" aspect of THE BEAT GENERATION remains its large ensemble cast of (seemingly) whoever was wandering by AIP's front doors that week. Jackie "Uncle Fester" Coogan plays a large and completely serious supporting role as the voice of reason, which in and of itself seems emblematic of TBG's compromised worldview. Coogan is also credited as "Dialogue Coach", which is nothing to brag about in light of the performances of James "Jim" Mitchum (son of Bob), who does a great job as Danton's accomplice when he's silent though blows it every time he opens his mouth; and Mamie Van Doren, who's competent at best as the bait that Cochran uses to try to snare Danton. Better value is delivered by a completely unrecognizable Vampira (!!!) who stops in for one scene where she reads some mediocre poetry and looks more like Mary Woronov in a butch haircut. But honestly the most amusing aspects of TBG are two bit players that hang out in the background for most of the film before figuring briefly in the final act: Norman Grabowski, who looks like a heavyweight boxer but moves and behaves like Marcel Marceau, and "Slapsy Maxie" Rosenbloom, who looks and acts like a drunk Curly Howard and steals the show when he decides to whup the tar out of loathsome fascist Cochran. Neither Grabowski nor Rosenbloom are remotely credible as young beatniks - both look like they're pushing 50 at least - but in this case Zugsmith's cluelessness about his milieu at least yielded some authentic entertainment.

Honestly TBG isn't badly made at all - it's just an ugly thing to endure in a post-Dobbs world and particularly in a week where one of Weinstein's convictions was overturned.
2/5
Will not watch again.

(If you've seen at least a couple AIP or Corman films you'll likely recognize the beachside bungalow where the beatniks hang out.)

I love this movie! For just the oddball cast! Vampira and her rat are precious!

[M.10rda]

That was my initial reaction several years ago after a few drinks, yeah.      Maybe the lesson for me is "Don't watch bad movies sober!"

[RCMerchant]

^I'm a BIG Vampira fan, so any rare chance to see her, even for a brief moment, is cool to me.

[M.10rda]

Yeah, Maila Nurmi was a cool chick and it's neat to see her out of "drag", so to speak. Tim Burton kind of made it seem like she was Vampira all the time iirc.

[chainsaw midget]

I watched the Luarel and Hardy movie A Haunting We Will Go.  It's a bit odd because there are no ghosts in the movie, no spooks, nothing that would do anything even remotely considered Haunting.  Instead it has gangster and a stage magician.  It's not a bad movie, but not one of their better works.

[Rev. Powell]

THE BURNING HELL (1974): Two hippies don't believe in Hell, but after one of them dies in a gory but unconvincing motorcycle crash the other listens to a fire and brimstone sermon from Estus R. Pirkle (complete with re-enactments of Biblical stories by parishioners and trips to Hell) and gets saved. Intended to be shown at Sunday schools to terrify (very) impressionable youth, it's full of paunchy deacons and matronly parishioners dressing up like Pharisees and delivering Biblical prophecies through thick Tennessee accents, then demonstrating the torments of Hell by grimacing through burnface makeup while live maggots crawl over their faces. Unbelievable. 1.5/5.