Tag: Gratuitous Nudity

Most Wanted (1997)

Way back in 1988, budding comedic talent Keenen Ivory Wayans wrote, directed, and starred in I’m Gonna Git You Sucka, a silly and, at times, brutal parody of 1970s blaxploitation cinema. He followed that success by creating the groundbreaking sketch comedy show In Living Color. Wayans, and his extended family, became a comedy dynasty that still produces works to this day. But Wayans, as many creative people are wont to do, wished to expand his horizons. He wanted to do more than just comedy. He wanted to be an action star.

That desire led to A Low Down Dirty Shame, also written, directed, and starring Wayans, in which he plays a gritty private eye. The film wasn’t well received, but it did decent numbers, returning three times its modest budget at the box office. It was his next project that was his moon shot, with an increased budget, greater scope, and a main character fit for the likes of every action star from Arnold Schwarzenegger to Michael Dudikoff. Continue reading “Most Wanted (1997)”

Alien Outlaw

It’s the overall picture that makes a movie shitty or not. There is never just one thing that earns a flick a spot in the Shitty Movie Sundays Watchability Index. Sometimes, though, there are individual things worth pointing out. Take today’s movie, for instance. Alien Outlaw. It’s right there in the title. Alien Outlaw, singular. One alien who is an outlaw. But, this movie has three outlaw aliens. Why not title the movie Alien Outlaws? Surely the opening credits were made after filming had wrapped. The title wasn’t carved into stone. At some point writer/director Phil Smoot had to have noticed the title on the front page of the script versus the amount of aliens in the movie. Yet, there it is. Singular title, three aliens. Continue reading “Alien Outlaw”

Hard Ticket to Hawaii

What a gloriously stupid movie. Hard Ticket to Hawaii, Andy Sidaris’s magnum opus from 1987, is not the most watchable shitty movie of all time, but it is a contender for the ‘so bad it’s good’ championship belt. It’s a subtle distinction, I know. But, if boxing can have dozens of belts, why deny such granular categorization to misfit movies?

Written and directed by Sidaris, Hard Ticket is very self-aware. There are no pretensions of narrative weight, or, since this is an action flick, realistic violence. This is a bloody flick, to be sure, but it’s how the blood is spilt that is hooey (see, skateboard scene, frisbee scene). Continue reading “Hard Ticket to Hawaii”

The Bodyguard, aka Bodyguard Kiba

Once upon a time, Sonny Chiba starred in a film adaptation of Bodyguard Kiba, a popular manga by Ikki Kajiwara. Chiba played the titular Kiba, who offers his services to anyone willing to expose crime and corruption. Perhaps, with Kiba’s protection, his clients will live long enough to see justice done.

As happened quite frequently with movies and TV shows from overseas, an American distributor got ahold of the rights, and released a bastardized version here in the States. Bodyguard Kiba became The Bodyguard; the name of Kiba’s character was changed to ‘Sonny Chiba,’ so the flick now features Sonny Chiba playing Sonny Chiba; and ten minutes of new footage shot in Times Square, that has nothing to do with the rest of the film, was added at the beginning. Oh, and the film opens with a reading of Ezekiel 25:17, just like Jules Winnfield says it early in Pulp Fiction, misquote and all. (The more genre films from the 1970s I see, the more I see where Quentin Tarantino found his influence. In fact, it seems as if his entire career has been remaking the movies he saw in his adolescence, bringing a high sheen to exploitation cinema. But, that’s an article for another day.) Continue reading “The Bodyguard, aka Bodyguard Kiba”

Champagne and Bullets, aka GetEven, aka Road to Revenge

Vanity projects are a fact of Hollywood business. Occasionally a star gets enough juice that they force a studio to make the movie they want to do, on their terms. Just about every big star has a vanity project or two in their filmography. Sylvester Stallone used the power he gained after the success of Rocky to make Paradise Alley. Sean Connery convinced United Artists to back The Offence. John Travolta used up every ounce of his power and influence to make Battlefield Earth. Even Madonna got in on the act with the remake of Lina Wertmuller’s classic Swept Away. One thing readers should notice about these examples…they’re all bad movies. Continue reading “Champagne and Bullets, aka GetEven, aka Road to Revenge”

Overkill (1987)

Overkill 1987 movie posterI’m going to do something that would make all the journalists in my family, living and dead, recoil. I’m going to quote Wikipedia. Of filmmaker Ulli Lommel, the unpaid army of contributors at Wikipedia sayeth:

 

[He] was a German actor and director, noted for his many collaborations with Rainier Werner Fassbinder and his association with the New German Cinema movement. Lommel spent time at The Factory and was a creative associate of Andy Warhol, with whom he made several films and works of art.

This guy was a high-falutin’ artist. At some point in the 1980s, though, Lommel threw off the shackles of fine art and dedicated himself to a career in shitty movies. Thus freed, he brought viewers a string of glorious cheese, including Overkill, from 1987, which he wrote (with David Scott Kroes), produced, and directed.

Overkill follows Los Angeles cop Mickey Delano, played by Steve Rally, whose main claim to fame is being a three-time Playgirl Magazine centerfold (there is even a brief scene where Delano, undercover, shakes it as a male stripper). Continue reading “Overkill (1987)”

Alien Private Eye

Alien Private Eye VHS boxThe 1980s are a difficult time to explain to people who weren’t there. For the 20th century, every decade had a distinctive look and feel, right up until the late ’90s when everything cultural started to have a whiff of nostalgia. One can look at only a few seconds of a film from the 20th century and be able to tell which decade it came from. Meanwhile, here in this rotten century, nothing seems to have changed since the early 2000s. Fashion, music, movies…there are new names, but a unique, stylistic identity to the times we live in has been lost.

Back to the ’80s. Then was the culmination of decades of change, and the overarching theme seemed to be garishness. Bright colors everywhere (except in the home, which remained stubbornly brown), music with strange sounding instruments, big hair, and, as today’s movie shows, outfits that are beginning to look as bizarre as powdered wigs and pantaloons.

From 1989 comes Alien Private Eye, written, produced, directed, and edited by Vik Rubenfeld. Shot in 1987, but stuck in a can until it obtained a VHS release, Alien Private Eye is another film rescued from the approaching abyss by Vinegar Syndrome, who cleaned it up and released a Blu-ray in 2022. And it’s good they did. Before they ran this flick through the ringer, the only way to watch it were degraded VHS transfers uploaded to the tubes, and those are barely watchable, with fuzzy picture and muddy sound. Continue reading “Alien Private Eye”

Invasion of the Bee Girls

To give one an idea of the kind of film this is, and the kind of audience it attracts (this reviewer included), the ‘Alternate versions’ section of Invasion of the Bee Girls’ IMDb page contains this gem: “The recent MGM DVD is missing footage. Part of the scene where Beverly Powers…seduces her man is missing, deleting some of her nudity…The MGM version looks the best this low-budget film has ever looked, but the missing footage rankles.” That’s someone who feels robbed. Modern viewers are denied that particular set of breasts, yes, but there are plenty more in this exploitation classic. Continue reading “Invasion of the Bee Girls”

Killing American Style

Filmmaker Amir Shervan’s Samurai Cop wowed shitty movie audiences when it was rediscovered in the 2000s, so it made sense that the mutants would dig into his back catalogue to see what else he left behind. Shervan has thirty directing credits to his name, most from before he left his native Iran due to the Islamic revolution. He was in the wilderness, filmmaking-wise, for a bit, but came back in 1987 with Hollywood Cop, kicking off a string of five unforgettable b-flicks that culminated with Samurai Cop, before he left the business once again. One of those glorious remnants was Killing American Style, a home invasion action flick released in 1988. Continue reading “Killing American Style”

Urban Warriors, or, The Worst Day at Work Ever

Urban Warriors movie posterIf you, dear reader, are convinced that you’re watching something familiar during Urban Warriors, then congratulations. You are a connoisseur of 1980s Italian Mad Max ripoffs. Only someone with knowledge of this strange subgenre of film would recognize that Urban Warriors, the last film from director Giuseppe Vari, shares much footage with The Final Executioner, released three years earlier in 1984. This flick isn’t the only movie to recycle substantial amounts of footage from The Final Executioner. A couple of years later The Bronx Executioner did the same thing, only in a way that destroyed just about all narrative consistency. Urban Warriors has a plot that one can follow.

Brad, Maury, and Stan (Bruno Bilotta, Bjorn Hammer, and Maurice Poli) are doing computer technician stuff in an underground bunker. Right in the middle of the workday, World War 3 breaks out, spreading nuclear apocalypse over the entire world. The power in the bunker is knocked out, so the trio has to make their way to the surface. It takes them days to find a way out, and when they do reach the surface, Vari shows us the ravages of atomic warfare — a rocky yet pristine hillside, and a small office complex whose glass sides gleam in the sunlight. It’s about as low effort as one will ever see in a post-apocalyptic movie. Continue reading “Urban Warriors, or, The Worst Day at Work Ever”