Director Jerry Ciccoritti started his career with Psycho Girls and Graveyard Shift AKA Central Park Drifter, so how wild is it that he just made this viral movie? Written by Russell Hainline, this has Kathy Barrett (Lacey Chabert) runs a diner in Hope Springs, New York, but everything is falling apart after the death of her husband. To cheer her up, her friends  Theo (Dan Lett) and Mel (Sherry Miller) buy her a red scarf. Later, she takes that scarf and puts it on a muscular ice sculpture and, well, have you seen or heard Frosty the Snowman?

Jack Snowman (Dustin Milligan) comes into her life and ends up enchanting everyone in town except for conspiracy obsessed Sheriff Nathaniel Hunter (Craig Robinson). This succeeds through its casting, as it also has Lauren Holly, Katy Mixon Greer from Eastbound & Down and Joe Lo Truglio from The State, all talents that elevate anything that they appear in.

I love this term: “born sexy yesterday” which comes from Pop Culture Detective. How can Kathy find anything sexually interesting in a baby in human form, even if he has nice abs? Is he a project, a blank slate, like a snowman, that one can project their dreams on as easily as insert a carrot for a nose?

Why am I thinking so hard about this movie?

That said, Hainline is on Letterboxd and seems to have a sense of humor, saying “in 2021, I started pitching to my friends, in my best Norm Macdonald-esque delivery, “what if, when Frosty the Snowman came to life… he was a super-hot dude?” then I’d hit them with “it’s called HOT FROSTY.” and it always got a laugh… but over time, it also burrowed under my skin. for whatever reason, I couldn’t let this idea go. I had to write this movie.”

Look, someone has to fuck that snowman. It may as well be one of the Mean Girls. At least this has some fun callbacks to other Netflix holiday movies and her past acting roles. If it was a female snow woman, however, I feel like people would get angry.

Thanks to the British Film Institute, there’s a list of films that played Scala. To celebrate the release of Severin’s new documentary, I’ll share a few of these movies every day. You can see the whole list on Letterboxd. 

This movie — and Xanadu — are why the Razzies exist, awards that celebrate the worst in movies. But what do they know?

This is the only movie that Nancy Walker — Rhoda’s mom and the Bounty paper towel lady — ever directed. It’s Bruce Jenner’s film debut. And I don’t care what anyone says, I love it in spite of everything bad you can say about it.

You can see why the movie happened. Producer Allan Carr was riding high off the success of Grease. Disco had finally hit the mainstream with Saturday Night Fever. And there was probably so much coke going around that everyone had a constant nasal drip. The time was ripe for what people had been clamoring for: the origin story of the Village People.

Wait — what?

The Village People — you probably know the words to “YMCA” — were created by Jacques Morali and Henri Belolo. While in New York, Morali attended a costume ball at the Greenwich Village gay disco “Les Mouches.” There, he was taken by all of the macho male stereotypes that he saw in the room and thought — this could be a music act, with each member being a different gay fantasy. Soon, they were signed to Casablanca Records, where their songs “San Francisco (You Got Me),” “Macho Man” and “In the Navy” played in clubs all over the world.

The truth is that the Village People were all one person at first: Victor Willis. Once the album became a hit, Morali and Belolo quickly put out an ad that said: “Macho Types Wanted: Must Dance And Have A Moustache.” From that big success to the time this movie was ready to come out, disco was just about dead, a fact that Carr had foreseen, changing the title from the original Discoland–Where The Music Never Ends! 

So what’s it really all about? Jack Morell (Steve Guttenberg, Police Academy) — named for Jacques Morali, of course — wants to be a composer. But for now, he’s DJing at Saddle Tramps, a disco. His roommate, Samantha Simpson (Valerie Perrine, Superman) is a newly retired supermodel. He writes her a song and everyone loves it, so she uses all of her connections to get him a deal. Her ex-boyfriend Steve Waits of Marrakech Records — get it, Casablanca Records? — wants her back, so he agrees to listen to a demo.

However, Jack’s vocals pretty much suck. So she recruits all of her fabulous friends, like waiter Felipe Rose — the Indian! And model David “Scar” Hodo — the Construction Worker! Randy Jones needs dinner, so he joins up as the Cowboy! We almost have formed Voltron…I mean, the Village People!

We’re treated to a solo song by David the Construction Worker called “I Love You to Death” where he fantasizes about all of the women who will be chasing him once he’s popular. When this scene played in San Francisco, supposedly movie screens were decimated with eggs.

Meanwhile, Samantha’s former agent (Tammy Grimes, who is one of the commercial stars in The Stuff) wants her back in the modeling business and orders her secretary Lulu to make it happen. Somehow, Ron White (Jenner), a tax lawyer, gets mugged on his way to delivering a cake to Sam’s sister, but then Lulu gives Jack drugs, then Ray Simpson — the Cop! — shows up and the four sing the song “Magic Night.” It’s all too much for Ron, who runs away.

The next day, Ron and Sam get back together and hook up. Now that he has a reason to help, he offers his office for further auditions, where we meet Glenn Hughes — the Leatherman! — and Alex Briley — the G.I.! — who finally form the full version of the group. Blink and you’ll miss W.A.S.P. frontman Blackie Lawless trying out! Finally, Ron’s boss Richard says (Russell Nype, who is also in The Stuff) that their company shouldn’t have anything to do with the group, so Ron quits the firm.

The band then goes to the YMCA to rehearse, which leads to a musical number for the song of the same name. If you’re looking to see plenty of naked men in a PG movie, well, here you go! I won’t judge! Marrakech offers too little money for their contract, so the gang decides to throw a party to raise some funds.

Seriously: this is the most raw dong I have ever seen in a non-porno movie.

Samantha agrees to model again for a milk commercial, as long as the Village People can be there, too. The TV spot — with six small boys dressed as the band — starts with Samantha pouring them milk and turning into the song “Milkshake.” Of course, the milk company balks at this. I’ve been in advertising for some time. I can only imagine the meeting where they showed this video to them and the blank stares turning into faces filled with pure rage.

Norma White (Barbara Rush, It Came From Outer Space) decides to help and invites the guys to be part of her fundraiser. Sam lures Steve to the show by suggesting they can canoodle, so Ron dumps her. Meanwhile, on Steve’s jet, Jack and his mother Helen (June Havoc, sister of Gypsy Rose Lee!) win the record company owner over and the Village People are signed!

Everything works out just fine. Ron and Sam get back together. He gets his old job offered back. And following a song by Morali’s other band The Richie Family, the Village People finally unite for “Can’t Stop the Music.”

If only reality had been so kind. After all, the infamous Disco Demolition Night in Chicago, the evening most people claim was the death knell for disco in the United States, happened two weeks into filming.

Even with a TV special — Allan Carr’s Magic Night — featuring Hugh Hefner and Cher, along with a new Village People song “Ready for the 80’s!” that was cut from the film, it was to prime America for a movie that by the time it was filmed no one really wanted to see.

Oh man, the lyrics to that song:

I’m ready for the eighties things look positive
I’m ready and I’ve got a lot of love to give
There’s hope in every heart and love on ev’ey face
The eighties promise everything is just gonna be great

But hey — Baskin Robbins had a flavor made for the film. Can’t Stop the Nuts was offered for the whole summer of 1980. Think I made this up? Nope. I have evidence.

It’s also one of the first appearances of Ray Simpson as the Policeman. The previously mentioned Victor Willis, the original lead singer, quit the group during pre-production. Turns out he wanted to let everyone know he was the straight man of the group and had insisted that his wife, the soon to be divorced and renamed Phylicia Rashad, be written into the film as his girlfriend. Her role in the film ended up being played by Sammy Davis Jr.’s wife Altovise Davis.

Even crazier was that filming in New York was constantly delayed by protestors who were upset about the film Cruising. Many of them thought that this film was that film, so they protested against the wrong movie!

The film failed. Disco died. But why are we talking about this all thirty-some years later? Simple: disco never really went away. And neither did the Village People. Victor Willis is even back in the group, after years of fighting. Sure, there are two different Village People bands touring. But people love them. They’re a part of our culture, even if this movie is pretty much forgotten (outside of Australia, where it’s a New Year’s Eve tradition).

I also want to inform you for some reason this movie is 2 hours and 3 minutes long. I have no idea why it has to be so long. Plan your evening accordingly.

Between 1978-1993, more than a million people attended movies at the Scala Cinema in London, whether they were coming to see arthouse or grindhouse, kung fu or groundbreaking LGBTQ+ films. Out of that era, many members of those audiences became today’s filmmakers, musicians, writers, actors, activists and artists.

This documentary, directed and written by Ali Catterall and Jane Giles, this features John Waters, Mary Harron, Graham Humphreys, Alan Jones, Kim Newman Ben Wheatley, Ralph Brown, Beeban Kidron and so many more, all united in their memories of the theater and the life-changing films and moments they enjoyed there.

Whether people came to see movies like Thundercrack or Eraserhead, the movies of Russ Meyer or John Waters, Laurel and Hardy or Sam Raimi, they knew that the Scala was where they would get to have their minds blown.

Based on Giles’ 2018 book Scala Cinema 1978-1993, this is a movie for movie lovers, plain and simple. The Scala got around so many issues because it was a members only club — the Severin set comes with a membership card of your own, as well as a poster — yet despite all of the drug use in the theaters, at least two reported deaths and showing tons of movies that couldn’t have been shown in England, Scala was closed because they showed A Clockwork Orange and Stanley Kubrick had ordered the film to not be shown in the UK. This led to a lawsuit by Warner Brothers and the theater ended.

The memories, however, could not go away. I’ve never had the opportunity to have a theater like the Scala but I wish that I had. I can live through this. This is a documentary and a set for those that live through movies, that dream of them, that want them to mean as much to others as they do to us.

All this week, we’ll go through the many extras that are in the Severin set as well as several of the movies that screened at Scala, which you can find on this Letterboxd list.

Here’s a list of the extras you get with this release: audio commentary with Jane Giles And Ali Catterall; an introduction from the UK premiere; the documentary Scala by Michael Clifford with commentary, a short Scala Cinema; featurettes on the theater and programs; Davey Jones’ cartoons; outtakes of the interviews and a trailer.

The second disc has several shorts that played at Scala, such as Divide and Rule — Never!, Dead Cat, The Mark of Lilith, Relax, Boobs A Lot, Kama Sutra Rides Again, Coping With Cupid and On Guard.

The third disc has the Kier-La Janisse documentary The Art of the Calendar; Splatterfest Exhumed, which is all about the seminal horror festival at Scala; Maniac 2: Mr. Robbie, the Buddy Giovinazzo-directed proof of concept for the sequel that never happened, as well as commentary by Giovinazzo; Horrorshow with commentary by director Paul Hart-Wilden; Josh Becker’s Cleveland Smith: Bounty Hunter, which stars Bruce Campbell and Sam Raimi, as well as a commentary by Scott Spiegel; Mongolitos with commentary by director Stéphane Ambiel and a featurette on H.G. Lewis coming to Scala in 1989.

You can buy this from Severin.

Thanks to the British Film Institute, there’s a list of films that played Scala. To celebrate the release of Severin’s new documentary, I’ll share a few of these movies every day. You can see the whole list on Letterboxd.

Shot directly after Mario Bava’s Danger: Diabolik, this Roger Vadim-directed movie is based on the comic book of the same name by Jean-Claude Forest. The film stars Vadim’s then-wife Jane Fonda as Barbarella, a United Earth agent sent to find scientist Durand Durand, who has created a weapon that could destroy humanity.

Vadim was hired to direct this film after producer Dino De Laurentiis purchased the rights. This led to Vadim looking to cast several actresses in the title role, including Virna Lisi, Brigitte Bardot (that’s who the character was originally based on) and Sophia Loren before ending up picking his wife.

In case you’re wondering why this movie is such a mess, Charles B. Griffith was the last writer to work on it, saying that he had done uncredited work on the script after fifteen other writers — including Terry Southern — worked on the movie.

This film is packed with fashion, amazing sets — you can credit Bava’s film for some of that, and great characters, like John Phillip Law (who used the break in shooting to be in the aforementioned Danger: Diabolik) as Pygar the angel, Anita Pallenberg (Performance) as the Black Queen, Milo O’Shea as Durand-Durand, Marcel Marceau in a rare speaking role as Professor Ping, David Hemmings (Deep Red) as Dildano and even cameos from Fabio Testi and Antonio Sabato (who was originally to play the role that Hemmings ended up doing).

So yeah. This is a gorgeous film that makes no sense whatsoever. Is that such a bad thing? I first watched this as a child on HBO and I think when the part came in which the birds tear apart Barbarella’s clothes, my parents decided that it was time for me to go to bed. I was hooked on movies that were seen as being wrong for me to watch and Italian-shot films.

A sequel was planned with producer Robert Evans called Barbarella Goes Down, but it never happened. Nor did a 1990 remake, a Robert Rodriguez idea or a potential project with Nicolas Winding Refn, who moved on to other projects, saying, “…certain things are better left untouched. You don’t need to remake everything.”

Thanks to the British Film Institute, there’s a list of films that played Scala. To celebrate the release of Severin’s new documentary, I’ll share a few of these movies every day. You can see the whole list on Letterboxd. 

The story of X may have been three years early, but the video revolution — driven, as all technology is, by sex — changed the world of pornography, moving it from the fleshpots of 42nd Street and dirty book stores into suburban living rooms. In 1982, there was still the glimmer of hope that the Golden Age of Porn — that starts with Bill Osco’s Mona and ends sometime around 1984 or so with The Dark Brothers’ 1984 mind-twisting New Wave Hookers — would find new life, better budgets and a more appreciative audience.

Yet videotape would open up adult for everyone and by the 90s, few films had a storyline, instead given to gonzo explorations of “can you top this” madness with few exceptions, such as the output of John Stagliano (who may have popularized gonzo, but could also create a coherent and interesting narrative film like Buda), the glossy Michael Ninn glamour movies, Andrew Blake’s Night Trips, Phillip Mond’s Zazel, John Leslie’s Chameleons and Curse of the Cat Woman, the aforementioned Dark Brothers and ridiculous parodies of existing films.

Yet in 1982, a movie could be made that transcends its adult origins and uses them to make you as the viewer complicit in the action on screen.

Stephen Sayadian only made seven adult films (this film, as well as two sequels to Nightdreams, two Untamed Cowgirls of the Wild West and two Party Doll-a-Go-Go films which take the staccato editing and weird dialogue to its absurd limit on sets that had to cost absolutely nothing yet with a cast of all-stars such as Raven, Madison Stone, Patricia Kennedy, Bionca, Jeanna Fine, Nikki Wilde and Tianna Collins and yes, I wrote that from memory) as well as the somewhat spiritual sequel — or at least next steo — to this movie, the mainstream — yet still delightfully insane — Dr. Caligari. A veteran of advertising and design — he worked on the posters for The Fog, The Funhouse, Ms. 45 and Dressed To Kill which took inspiration from the iconic The Graduate poser — Sayadian used the alter ego of Rinse Dream to make his films, much as Gregory Dark would adopt a new name for his porn changing efforts.

The script — yes, adult movies can have a script — was written by Herbert W. Day, who is really Pittsburgh native Jerry Stahl, the son of a coal miner who later became Pennsylvania attorney general and a federal judge. He found that he had a talent for writing short stories, was the humor editor for Hustler and also discovered a love of hardcore drugs. To fuel that, he started writing for TV shows like Moonlighting, Twin Peaks, Thirtysomething, Northern Exposure and, perhaps most intriguingly, ALF. He’s also written ten episodes of CSI which have been the most aberrant examples of that show to middle America, which is wild as he introduced viewers of the grandparent network CBS to furries, infantilism, a measured story about transgendered people and introduced Lady Heather, the potential bad girl love interest of lead Gil Grissom, who was played by Return of the Living Dead III star Melinda Clarke. His autobiographical novel Permanent Midnight was a success and made into a movie starring Ben Stiller.

Years after a nuclear war, nearly every survivor is a Negative, often shambling zombie-like humans who become vomitous if they attempt to copulate. To attempt any hope at remembering what human contact was like, they come to Café Flesh, a place where Positives make love while they watch, often engaging in surrealist scenes that defy the ability of the viewer to become titillated.

That’s the point. Where the goal of nearly all pornography is to get the viewer off, Cafe Flésh casts you as a Negative, stuck at home with no one next to you, as far from true warmth and, well, flesh as the puking crowd — Richard Beltzer is one of them — gathered to watch and watch and watch.

It also feels like the vaudevillian stage of the men’s club gone to Hell, as Max Melodramatic (Andy Nichols, who also played the doctor in Nightdreams) introduces live sex acts with people dressed as rats or milkmen surrounded by men dressed as demonic babies. Even the typical jerk-off scenario of a female oil tycoon lies with a gigantic pencil while her secretary repeatedly intones, “Do you want me to type a memo?”

Is the film making light of the fact that male performers had often become interchangeable, their faces are obscured for most of the movie?

Angel (Marie Sharp) came from Wyoming, where they found that she was Positive and she’s been forced into the slavery of the club, performing with each man that they bring on stage. However, one of the audience members, Lana (Michele Bauer, using her Pia Snow name here before she would go on to appear in so many horror movies like Demonwarp, Evil Toons, Sorority Babes in the Slimeball Bowl-O-Rama and Jess Franco’s Lust for Frankenstein and Mari-Cookie and the Killer Tarantula In Eight Legs to Love You) has been keeping have Positive diagnosis a secret as she doesn’t want to hurt her boyfriend Nick. Yet as she watches the famous Positive Johnny Rico (Kevin James, who speaking of nuclear war is also in the porn parody Dr. Strange Sex) — someone liked Robert Heinlein — go through his motions with Angel,  her frustrations take hold and she takes the stage.

Screen Slate has an amazing article that details the music of this movie, which Sayadian describes as “…like an Elmer Bernstein score from the ’50s, only played with the most modern synthesizers available at the time. I thought: old vibe, new technology.” There’s a lot to learn about composer Mitchell Froom — and the rest of the film’s creators — at that site.

By the way — Sayadian didn’t direct Rockwell’s “Someone’s Watching Me” video. That would be  Francis Delia, who directed Nightdreams as F.X. Pope. Seeing as how Stahl and Sayadian wrote that movie, I can see how some may make the mistake. Delia was a producer on this film as well as the director of photography.

Café Flesh isn’t for someone who is looking to get off. I can’t even imagine those that were confronted by it in adult theaters, as it punches you in the face with its AIDS allegory while daring you to find a single erotic thing in it. Strangely enough, I’d always heard that an R-rated edit was made so that mainstream audiences would see it at midnight shows, but Sayadian stated — in the above linked Screen Slate piece — that the movie was an “R-rated movie, funded by X-rated people” and that he was forced to add the sex scenes by the money men behind the budget.

He said, “I got financing from three guys — two were hardcore producers and one was a Harvard business grad who somehow got lost in the porno world.” After adding in the adult scenes, he told Froom, “I want you to extend some of these pieces because we may have to put porn in there. And all I can say is, I want the music to be as disturbing as possible. I don’t want it to be hot or sexy or anything like that.”

That said, the moans of joy that came from this movie show up in a place that many have heard them, White Zombie’s Blade Runner quoting song  — “Yeah I am the nexus one I want more life” — “More Human than Human.”

Thanks to the British Film Institute, there’s a list of films that played Scala. To celebrate the release of Severin’s new documentary, I’ll share a few of these movies every day. You can see the whole list on Letterboxd. 

A combination of exploitation film, spaghetti (well, maybe chili con carne given its origins), art film and quest for enlightenment, El Topo is either the greatest movie you’ve ever seen (me) or complete bullshit that seems to go on forever and ever (my wife).

El Topo and his son are traveling the desert when he instructs his son that he is now a man and must bury his first toy and a photo of his mother. The naked child — either symbolizing purity or just a lack of wardrobe budget — rides with our protagonist as he walks through a town that has been decimated.

The black-clad gunfighter finds those responsible and destroys them, including castrating their leader, the Colonel. Rescuing that man’s woman, who he calls Mara, El Topo learns of four gunfighters that cannot be defeated. He abandons his son and goes with her on a quest.

From here on out, it’s a mix of religious and sexual interplay as well as gunfights that grow more and more mystical. There’s also a no legged man riding a no arms having man, a master who can catch bullets in a butterfly net, a dude who can stop bullets with his body, a woman who sounds like birds when she screams, hundreds of dead rabbits, people spontaneously going up in flames and their graves secreting honey and bees, and so much more. Throughout each gun battle, El Topo grows weaker as he must rely on trickery instead of skill. Each win feels more like a loss, particularly as Mara becomes more demanding and grows fonder of the unnamed woman with the voice of a man who has been riding with them.

El Topo visits the sites of each of his four battles and is shot numerous times by the woman as he crosses a bridge. His body is taken by dwarves and mutants as the first part of the film ends. Becca was sure this was the end of the movie and I didn’t have the heart to tell her that there was much, much, much more to come.

Our protagonist has been born again as a Christ-like figure who has meditated for at least 20 years in the caves of an inbred group of mutants. He is now cleaned and shaved as he promises to return them to the light (the mole, who El Topo is named for, constantly claws its way to the sun, but is then blinded). To get there, he and his new bride, a dwarf woman, must beg and be part of a series of skits that take advantage of them, climaxing with them being forced to make love in a room full of the town’s men.

And this town — it’s covered with Illuminati imagery, worships guns, takes slaves and destroys them to the cheers of an adoring crowd. It also feels a lot like America.

Of course, El Topo’s son is now a monk in this town and when he and his bride attempt to marry, he tries to kill his father for leaving him behind. He agrees to spare the old man’s life until he frees his people.

Finally free, the mutated cavepeople run to the town, thinking it is their salvation. Instead, they are massacred and El Topo is shot numerous times. Remembering what he learned from the gun battles, he rises and kills every single one of them. Then, he sets himself on fire (“I kind of figured this would happen sooner or later,” said my wife) as his child is born. His grave also releases honey and bees as his sons and wife ride on into the distance (there was once hope of a Sons of El Topo movie with Marilyn Manson as the star, but it has not happened. There was, however, a comic book, which will be released in the US in December of 2018).

El Topo has inspired legions of fans, from John Lennon (who championed the film and had Allen Klein, manager of The Beatles, buy it and show it nationwide at midnight screenings, then produced the follow-up The Holy Mountain) to David Lynch, Dennis Hopper, Gore Verbinski (citing that debt in his animated film Ringo), Nicolas Winding Refn and Suda 51, whose video game No More Heroes has a similar plot about finding and destroying the best assassins in the world.

A midnight movie staple for years, El Topo disappeared in the 1980’s and 90’s, as Allen Klein would not give up his rights to the film. I searched for years, as Heads Together (a long lost and lamented rental store in Pittsburgh) had the only copy in town, one that was constantly checked out. This was 1994 — nearly pre-internet and not the time when you could easily stream or order and film. It wasn’t until another sadly lost shop, Incredibly Strange, opened in Dormont that I was able to get a copy of the Japanese laser disc release. Since then, I’ve acquired the blu ray of the film, which makes it totally convenient to view at any time.

You can imagine my excitement when the movie was playing a midnight show at Row House, a theater in Pittsburgh’s Lawrenceville neighborhood. Before the film, the owners and programmers of the theater sat on stage and apologized for showing it, as they had just learned of the rape scene in the film and that Jodorowsky had claimed in past interviews that it was real (to be fair, he’s also said that it was consensual and that he penetrated her). This scene lasts around 30 seconds or less of screen time and shows no actual sex. I’ve read tons of books on the film and watched it so many times over the years and never really dealt with this controversy myself.

They said that they debated not showing the film — keep in mind before this talk, they did a trivia contest to give away tickets, which is kind of darkly humorous that they would put something that was quite literally trivial before such a big discussion and announcement — then said that they decided to show the film and donate its proceeds to a charity that they literally could not remember the name of. Then, they talked about future movies coming to the theater and couldn’t remember much of next month’s schedules other than Tokyo Tribes, which was described with the world rap more than five times.

At the risk of sounding like an asshole, this whole affair came off as handwringing and hand washing at the same time. If the theater had an issue with this, they should have not shown the film. Upon further research, no one is sure whether or not this scene is an actual rape. In interviews, Jodorowsky has been given to mania, saying things that any normal person would think is insane, such as using his proposed Dune to create a prophet and actual drugs on celluloid. I’m not giving the man a pass in the interest of hero worship (full disclosure, I am a fan of several of his movies), but the actress that played Mara (Mara Lorenzio) supposedly couldn’t be found to be paid and was on LSD for most of the production (this doesn’t suggest consent, just setting up that the film was shot during very different times). She did, however, make an appearance in the documentary Midnight Movies: From the Margin to the Mainstream where this was not discussed.

I will share that years after making the movie, Jodorowsky felt that he stole of some son’s childhood by making him take part in such a violent film. He flipped the opening of the film and had him dig up the teddy bear and a photo of his mother and told him, “Now you are 8 years old, and you have the right to be a kid”.

I don’t think this absolves him of whatever happened in this film. But the whole incident with the theater has left a bad taste in my mouth. I feel like they should have offered refunds (I wouldn’t take one), but instead by giving proceeds to charity, they took that choice away. They still advertised the movie up until hours before it went on with no mention of this controversy. And I overheard one of the people on stage mention that he’d never seen the film, only having seen The Holy Mountain and was interested to see what it was all about.

Again — I’d have more respect for them if they took an actual stand and didn’t show the film. It just felt like they were absolving themselves of it and almost challenging the audience to witness an actual rape if we wanted to stay and watch it. I realize that we’re evolving and changing as a society and I feel that it’s a great thing. And I can’t really collect my thoughts and properly express them here — I’ve tried — but it just all felt messy. And I guess that’s how these things are. The whole way that the affair was conducted didn’t give me any faith or trust in Row House as a theater, to be perfectly honest.

Sorry for the soapbox, but I had a lot to get off my chest. So what can we learn from this film? Well, “too much perfection is a mistake,” is a good start. I also learned “moderation in everything, even in moderation” from a fortune cookie last week. So there’s that.

I’ve also learned that the more I try and go out and experience film with others, I’m reminded that thanks to blu ray and my high def TV, I often feel a lot better just watching them at home. That’s what dooms most second run and boutique theaters, the apathy, along with the fact that I can spend money on a blu that’s equal to my ticket and get a better experience at home. Theaters should be selling that something extra and giving you more — again, a soapbox and I want to see these places succeed.

PS – The group they claim to have donated to was PAAR, Pennsylvania Action Against Rape. It’s one of the oldest rape crisis centers in the country and a totally worthwhile charity. It’d have felt a lot more genuine and honest if they could have remembered their name and told us something about them then stumbled through a speech that certainly needed nuance and actual notes.

I also understand that men have traditionally been horrible to women and this behavior could certainly have happened. The truth isn’t completely sure here and it’s a very difficult issue to maneuver. I just wanted to call out that I felt it was handled in a ham-fisted way and that there are better ways to handle such topics. I’m not justifying the actions of the filmmaker or the words he’s said (or changed over the years).

Max Allan Collins took over Dick Tracy for Chester Gould in 1977 and stayed on it for 15 years while also writing the Nathan Heller books — he won the Best Novel Shamus award for Stolen Away — as well as the graphic novel Road to Perdition (which became a movie), the comic books Ms. Tree and Wild Dog, and has directed four movies: Mommy, Mommy 2: Mommy’s Day, Real Time: Siege at Lucas Street Market and Eliot Ness: An Untouchable Life. If that isn’t enough, he’s a two-time member of the Iowa Rock ‘n’ Roll Hall of Fame and has written several movie novelizations, including the last two G.I. Joe movies and books based on CSI, Criminal Minds and Bones.

This story came along at a bad time for its creator. “The day before Thanksgiving 1992, I was notified by mail in a letter from a particularly odious editor at Tribune Media Services that my services as writer of the Dick Tracy strip were no longer required. I had done the writing of the strip, taking over for creator Chester Gould, since late 1977 – a fifteen-year run plus a few months.”

The same day, he lost his contract with Bantam books.

It was this story that broke his writer’s block after all that happened.

On Christmas Eve 1942, private eye Richard Stone (Rob Merritt) is celebrating. He’s gotten out of the draft with a bribe, which may cost him his secretary and girl Katie Crockett, whose brother is oversees fighting the war. His employee Joey (Tommy Ratkiewicz-Stierwalt) is getting sick of spying on cheating husbands and wives. And then there’s his partner Marley (Chris Causey), who was killed a year ago, a crime that he didn’t even try to solve.

That night, Stone is visited by Jake Marley, on leave from Purgatory so that he can convince Stone to solve his death. He brings three ghosts with him: the Ghosts of Christmas Past (Bonnie Parker, played by Alisabeth Von Presley), Present (a recently killed soldier, Hank Ross, played by Keith Porter) and Future (The King, who isn’t even old enough to be Elvis Presley yet, but ghosts don’t conform to the space time continuum; he’s played by Scot Gehret).

Sure, you know the story A Christmas Carol, but you’ve never seen it as a film noir. This is a really interesting movie and it’s awesome to see it come to life, knowing that Collins has been wanting to get back to making movies for several years. Go in knowing it had a small budget, but be wowed because it has big ideas at its heart. I’m definitely adding this to my annual holiday film rotation.

This VCI Pictures blu ray has extras including commentary by Collins and Producer/Editor Chad T. Bishop, Q & A highlights from advanced theatrical screenings and a documentary featuring Collins. You can get it from MVD.

Thanks to the British Film Institute, there’s a list of films that played Scala. To celebrate the release of Severin’s new documentary, I’ll share a few of these movies every day. You can see the whole list on Letterboxd. 

Made for $38,000, this film beat The Horror of Party Beach as the first monster musical by just a few months. It was the brainchild of the man known as Sven Christian, Sven Hellstrom, Harry Nixon, Wolfgang Schmidt, Cindy Lou Steckler, R.D. Steckler, Michael J. Rogers, Michel J. Rogers, Ray Steckler, Cindy Lou Sutters and, of course, Ray Dennis Steckler.

Before he became a B movie director, supposedly Steckler worked at Universal, where he bumped into an A-frame and dropped it onto Alfred Hitchcock. This ignominious exit would soon lead him to a world where he’d make baffling films like The Thrill Killers, Rat Pfink a Boo Boo and The Hollywood Strangler Meets the Skid Row Slasher. His adult film titles read like the kind of movies that exist only in my dreams, such as Sexual Satanic Awareness and Sexorcist Devil.

Jerry (Cash Flagg, another name for Steckler, auteuring it up by starring in his own movie), Angela and Harold decide to head out to the carnival, where they watch Marge (Carolyn Brandt, Steckler’s wife; their station wagon is also in the film) dance.

Marge is spooked by a black cat, which leads her to consult with Estrella, a fortune-teller who is throwing acid in peoples’ faces and making them zombies under her control. She predicts death for Marge, as well as a death near water for someone Angela knows.

Jerry falls in with the carnies because Estrella’s sister Carmelita stares him down and does her bad girl dancing to hypnotize him into acts of murder. You know how it goes. Of course, the zombies soon break loose, nearly everyone dies and Jerry is shot on the beach in front of his one true love, making that earlier prediction come true.

Also — dance numbers!

Steckler was a real showman, taking this movie on the road and constantly retitling it with outlandish names like The Incredibly Mixed-Up Zombie, Diabolical Dr. Voodoo and The Teenage Psycho Meets Bloody Mary. The posters proclaimed that the movie was made in Hallucinogenic Hypnovision, which really meant that at some point, maniacs in rubber masks would run around the theater. If you guessed that Steckler was one of those maniacs, you’d be right.

It was shot at The Film Center Studios, a former Masonic lodge owned by Rock Hudson — yes, I realize that this sounds like the start of a conspiracy story.

Perhaps most strangely — incredible strangely? — the cinematography and camera operating crew included three men who would go on to become major figures in the field.

Joseph V. Mascelli, who also worked on The Thrill Killers and Wild Guitar, wrote The Five Cs of Cinematography. Laszlo Kovacs would work on movies as disparate as A Smell of Honey, a Swallow of Brine and Easy Rider; he was considered a guiding light in the American New Wave. And then there’s Vilmos Zsigmond, whose work on Close Encounters of the Third Kind would win an Oscar (he also worked on The Deer Hunter and Heaven’s Gate).

In his 1987 book Psychotic Reactions and Carburetor Dung, Lester Bangs wrote an essay called “The Incredibly Strange Creatures Who Stopped Living and Became Mixed-Up Zombies, or, The Day The Airwaves Erupted.” Within, he’d state, “…this flick doesn’t just rebel against, or even disregard, standards of taste and art. In the universe inhabited by The Incredibly Strange Creatures Who Stopped Living and Became Mixed-Up Zombies, such things as standards and responsibility have never been heard of. It is this lunar purity which largely imparts to the film its classic stature. Like Beyond the Valley of the Dolls and a very few others, it will remain as an artifact in years to come to which scholars and searchers for truth can turn and say, “This was trash!”

Even more astounding, Columbia Pictures threatened to sue over this movie’s original title, The Incredibly Strange Creature: Or Why I Stopped Living and Became a Mixed-up Zombie. Supposedly the title was too close to the Kubrick film Dr. Strangelove or: How I Learned to Stop Worrying and Love the Bomb. Steckler called the studio and demanded to speak to Kubrick, a crazy move, and of course, Kubrick answered and agreed to the new title and the lawsuit was dropped. This whole story feels so insane that it has to be true.

The Severin blu ray release of this film has three hours of bonus features, including an introduction by Joe Bob Briggs, two commentaries (one by Ray Dennis Steckler and the other by Joe Bob), an interbiew with Carolyn Brandt, deleted scenes, a VHS trailer and a re-release trailer and a radio ad for Teenage Psycho Meets Bloody Mary. You can get this from Severin.

Thanks to the British Film Institute, there’s a list of films that played Scala. To celebrate the release of Severin’s new documentary, I’ll share a few of these movies every day. You can see the whole list on Letterboxd. 

Satan’s Sadists (1969): Al Adamson made his breakthrough with this movie, going on to direct Dracula vs. Frankenstein, Cinderella 2000, Nurse Sherri and one of the most legitimately unhinged movies I’ve ever survived, Carnival Magic. Even stranger, he was murdered and buried beneath his hot tub in 1995, killed by his live-in contractor Fred Fulford in a plot that could have been one of his films.

However, today we’re talking about his contribution to biker films.

The Satans are a motorcycle club who roam the American Southwest, led by Anchor (Russ Tamblyn, TV’s Twin Peaks) and including Firewater (John “Bud” Cardos, Breaking Point), Acid (Greydon Clark, who directed Satan’s Cheerleaders), Romeo (Bobby Clark, TV’s Casey Jones), Muscle, Willie and Gina (Regina Carrol, Adamson’s wife who appears in nearly all of his films). We’re introduced to the gang as they beat up a man, rape his girlfriend and then push them and their car off a cliff.

They have the bad luck to get in the way of hitchhiker Johnny Martin, a Vietnam vet who is just trying to figure it all out. He gets picked up by Chuck Baldwin (Scott Brady, the sheriff from Gremlins) and his wife Nora. The old man’s a cop and wants to help the young Marine as he travels the highways. They all go to a diner, where we meet Lew (Kent Taylor, half of the inspiration for Superman’s alter ego), the owner, and Tracy, a waitress.

The Satans show up and ruin the budding romance between Johnny and Tracy, as they earn the ire of Chuck and his wife, who tosses a drink in one of their faces. Chuck tries to pull his gun, but the old man’s authority means nothing to the hardened toughs who beat the fuck out of him and rape his woman. Then, they kill all three — but not until Anchor screams out a totally inspired rant:

“You’re right, cop. You’re right, I am a rotten bastard. I admit it. But I tell ya something. Even though I got a lot of hate inside, I got some friends who ain’t got hate inside. They’re filled with nothing but love. Their only crime is growing their hair long, smoking a little grass and getting high, looking at the stars at night, writing poetry in the sand. And what do you do? You bust down their doors, man. Dumb-ass cop. You bust down their doors and you bust down their heads. You put ’em behind bars. And you know something funny? They forgive you. I don’t.”

The Satans don’t leave witnesses. Well, except for our hero and the waitress, who just escaped from Muscle and Romeo. Meanwhile, the gang meets three young girls and start partying with them. Gina can’t take seeing Anchor with other women, so she jumps off a cliff.

Willie tries to kill our heroes, but a rattlesnake saves them (!). Meanwhile, Firewater finds his body and comes to tell Anchor, who has gone insane and murdered all three girls. They fight and Firewater leaves the leader for dead. As he finally finds Johnny and Tracy, he is killed by a landslide (again, nature itself is against the bikers).

Finally, Anchor catches up to them and goes nuts, giving another soliloquy about being Satan. He raises Chuck’s gun to kill everyone, but Johnny simply throws a switchblade at him. “In Vietnam, at least I got paid when I killed people,” he says and at that, he and Tracy ride off on the villain’s cycle.

Satan’s Sadists was filmed at the Spahn Movie Ranch in Simi Valley, CA, at the same time the Manson Family lived there. Some movies would hide this fact. This poster will prove that this one wears it on its bloody sleeve.

Truly, this is a movie that does not give a fuck. Just about no one gets out alive or unscarred. Any moments of pleasure are stolen or taken by force. The poster promises human garbage and this film delivers.

Angel’s Wild Women (1971): After two men assault one of her girls, Margo (Regina Carrol) finds him and whips him. In between this movie being Screaming Eagles and tough women in foreign prison movies getting hot, this was reshot and re-edited to make it fit into the changing world of exploitation. Another thing that changed was while movies had been shot by Al Adamson at the Spahn Ranch for a while, now the specter of the Manson Family hung over everything. So when cult leader King (William Bonner) makes life tough for the bikers and also controls the ranch’s owner Parker (Kent Taylor), you get taken out of the movie and wonder how much of this is based on things Adamson and his crew actually experienced.

Sam Sherman told Filmfax: “We even had some members of the Manson gang in it, people who had been hanging around. I don’t know if they were killers or not. What happened in this instance was one of those things you can’t imagine or even predict.”

Ross Hagen is the hero, as much as anyone in a biker movie can be the hero.

Also known as Commune of Death, a title that leans into the Manson parts of this movie, this is a film that ends with Hagen dropping his motorcycle off a cliff and onto a car, which inexplicably explodes.

Both films are available on one blu ray from Severin. Extras include commentary on both movies by producer/distributor Samuel M. Sherman, outtakes, trailers and TV and radio commercials. You can get this from Severin.

Directed by Justin Knodel, who wrote it with Chris Levine (who stars as Nick) and Christopher McGahan, Saint Nick is about Diane (Rachel Alig), who has a business trip over the holidays. Her son Trevor’s (Alex Lizzul) father can’t pick him up, so she’s forced to ask her brother Nick to watch him.

Nick spends all of his time in a bar and is the last person you’d want to watch your kid. But as you’ll learn, spending a week together over the holidays is probably the best thing that could happen to the two of these characters.

Everyone goes above and beyond in this indie comedy to make it way better than you’d expect. It makes fun of the schmaltz of Hallmark holiday movies without falling into the same problems. I had fun with it and if you’re looking something new over the holidays, this might be it.

You can learn more at the official site.

You can watch it on Amazon.