Claudia Jennings – Missile Test

What a gloriously stupid movie. I mean that. Shitty movie fans know the struggle. We mine the depths of Netflix and Prime, the bargain bins at the big box, the lot purchases on eBay. Most of what we find is slag or chaff. But occasionally, one digs up something precious — a film of such mirthful incompetence that it can liven up a whole day. Such is Deathsport.

From way back in 1978, Deathsport comes to us from the Roger Corman stable. He produced this one, while directing duties were handled by Nicholas Niciphor, and later Allan Arkush (although, if the internet is to be believed, Corman did some uncredited work in the director’s chair, as well). Apparently, the shoot was a bit of a nightmare, with the unexperienced Nicophor trying to wrangle of bunch of drugged out loons. Well, their chaos was our gain. Continue reading “Shitty Movie Sundays: Deathsport, or, You Meet the Nicest People on a Honda”

Truck Stop Women movie poster What a relentless pile of exploitative schlock. They don’t make them like this, anymore. The combination of online mob outrage, and the actual progressive growth of our morals, makes a flick like this a difficult proposition in the 21^st century. Even watching this film, and a whole plethora of its contemporaries, can make a viewer feel a little squirrely, as if they were doing something wrong. This is one of those flicks that can make a person feel ashamed of being entertained. But, in for a penny, in for a pound. Truck Stop Women is wonderfully shitty.

From way back in 1974, Truck Stop Women tells the story of a truck stop/whorehouse in New Mexico, and its madam’s efforts to stave off mob competition. It’s a flick that wallows in its shittiness, from the low-rent country music soundtrack (all songs performed by Bobby Hart — my personal favorite track was Bullshippers), to its southern AND Italian stereotypes, to its bottom-of-the-barrel cast, and endless gratuitous nudity.

As gratuitous nudity goes, the nudity in this flick might be among the most gratuitous I’ve ever seen. Sure, much of the flick takes place in a whorehouse, and one would expect to see a few breasts here and there. But there’s a segment in this film that is basically a Bobby Hart music video montage, and some boob flashes made the cut. It’s the very definition of gratuitous, which dictionary.com has as “being without apparent reason, cause, or justification.” The breasts are everywhere, in all shapes and sizes. And they were glorious to behold. I write of the breasts not from some sanctimonious high ground, but because they are an essential and inescapable aspect of this shitty movie. There are so many bared breasts in this movie that a network TV cut would clock in at less than an hour. Continue reading “Shitty Movie Sundays: Truck Stop Women”