The Joe D’Amato Emanuelle movies are absolutely lunatic. I mean that in the best of ways, because while they promise you skin, sin and sleaze — and they deliver — it often feels like it all comes at the price of you feeling like you’ll ever be clean again.
Written by Maria Pia Fusco, the daughter of a policeman who rebelled by writing movies like Bluebeardand five of the Black Emanuelle movies while also becoming a respected film writer for La Repubblica where she became one of the few journalists to have an in-depth exploration of Kubrick from a first-hand perspective, and Gianfranco Clerici, whose oeuvre is filled with some of Italy’s most notorious films such as The New York Ripper, Cannibal Holocaustand The House on the Edge of the Park.
After a meeting with United Nations diplomat Dr. Robertson (Ivan Rassimov!) in New York City, our heroine Emanuelle (the always wonderful Laura Gemser) is invited to India to write a report on Guru Shanti (George Eastman), a man who is teaching his followers to hold off their orgasms so that they may all experience the ultimate in le petit mort before the lovely journalist of our dreams basically ruins everyone.
This movie lives up to the title because Emanuelle and her friend Cora Norman (Karin Schubert, Hanna D. – La ragazza del Vondel Park‘s mother) really do travel the world and free women from bonds both literal and sexual, encouraging free love and never having the film preach to us about what they do.
I mean, you should also realize that this is a D’Amato movie where scenes of torture, assault and two different species of animals involved in the sex scenes because, well, Italy is the most insane of all countries, but you’d be like that too if the Vatican was directly inside your capital city. There’s a cut of this that has a banana scene that has nearly made me swear off this type of fruit, but these are the dangers of watching Italian sexploitation.
But it’s even odder because D’Amato makes us look away in the climactic beauty queen assault scene, our heroines unable to do anything but realize that when this is all over, they’re going to ruin the men who let this happen. I first saw this as a teenager in the early 90s. While most of the movies I saw back then haven’t held up, this movie has only improved with time.
As he fights the gangs of Hong Kong, Tan Tung (Alexander Fu Sheng) finally runs out of luck and barely escapes to San Francisco. However, America is just as full of gangs, but Tan Tung is able to fight his way to the top of the gangs and battle for control of Chinatown. But now that he has all that power, will he use it for good? Or will he give in to corruption?
Has Tung become a pawn of the White Dragons as he continues to battle the Green Tigers across the world? Will he continue to protect his studious friend Yang (Sun Chien)? Will the Venom Mob show up to have some of the best fights of any movie anywhere?
Chang Cheh made several movies where someone learns that fighting ability isn’t enough to escape the path that you’re on. This would be one more of them, but I could watch this story again and again and still return for more.
This movie was chopped up — frustrating many Shaw Brothers fans — when Celestial remastered it in the early 2000s. I’m happy to report that there are two versions in the Shaw Scope box set.
The Arrow Video Shaw Scope Volume One box set has a brand new 2K restoration of The Chinatown Kid from the original film elements of the 115-minute international version of the movie with uncompressed Cantonese and English audio. It also has a 90-minute alternate version with uncompressed Mandarian audio — all with newly translated English subtitles and English hard-of-hearing subtitles for the English dubs.
It also has select scene commentary by Susan Shaw, Elegant Trails: Fu Sheng featurette and Hong Kong, U.S. and German theatrical trailers, a U.S. TV spot and an image gallery.
You can also stream this movie on the Arrow player. Visit ARROW to start your 30-day free trial. Subscriptions are available for $4.99 monthly or $49.99 yearly. ARROW is available in the US, Canada, the UK and Ireland on the following Apps/devices: Roku (all Roku sticks, boxes, devices, etc), Apple TV & iOS devices, Android TV and mobile devices, Fire TV (all Amazon Fire TV Sticks, boxes, etc), and on all web browsers at https://www.arrow-player.com.
Mei-Chun Chang made another 3D kung fu movie we covered, Dynasty, so we were super excited to get this movie, also known as 13 Golden Nuns.
Thirteen women are ravaged by bandits and the rules of the time state that they must go to a convent. What the rules did not state was that they would spend their time there studying the martial arts and gaining all of the skills that they would need to murder those that did them wrong.
I mean, take it from the film itself: “In 18th century China, bandit hordes roamed the provinces pillaging and plundering villages. Whole villages were decimated. Men, women and children slaughtered and the women raped.According to the social customs of the times, the rape victims, because they were no longer virgins, were sent to convents. Under the austere and knowledgeable presence of the Head Shogun Nun, these girls were taught the Revelations of the Budha and mastered the techniques of the martial arts. They became Shogun women capable of defending themselves and others from the bandit marauders.”
Look, someone gets scalped in 3D. I think that’s worth more than the price of this blu ray. There’s some wedding drama — a young woman is marrying an old doctor because the only way he can do accupuncture on her breast is to marry her so it’s not inappropriate and the artist who loves her calls in the bandits because, well, it’s a kung fu movie. The real reason to watch this is to see arrows come out of the screen.
The Kino Lorber blu ray has both BD3D polarized and anaglyphic (red/cyan) 3-D versions. You even get a pair of anaglyphic 3-D glasses to watch the movie with. There are three extra 3-D shorts: College Capers, Persian Slave Market and Two Guys from Tick Ridge. You can order it from Kino Lorber.
The Old School Kung Fu Fest is back and the Museum of the Moving Image and Subway Cinema will co-present eight newly restored films and one fan favorite classic by Kuo on glorious 35mm. Four titles will be available exclusively online, December 6–13, and another five films for in-person big-screen viewing at MoMI, December 10–12.
Sang Kuan Chun is ready to retire. After all, he’s done it all and has nothing to prove until he gets a note that says that he’s not the best and must challenge the seven grandmasters to prove that he — and his style — are the best. Sang Kuan Chun goes on a journey with his four best students — and soon picks up Siu Ying who wants revenge — to challenge each of the schools. And let me tell you, this is not bs, as I once was part of a small martial arts group that would go school to school and challenge their students to prove that we had the best fighting style. Look — I’m no master of chess boxing and am just one of those gotta be dumb, gotta be tough fighters. So just imagine walking into a martial arts school in the suburbs and being like, “We want to fight your best guy.” I felt like Yoji Anjo challenging Rickson Gracie a lot of the time.
Before Sang Kuan Chun’s teacher died, he gave him a book of the Pai Mei Twelve Strikes. There was a masked man who stole three of those strikes — and also set up Sang Kuan Chun to kill Siu Ying’s father — and who is mathematically the better fighter because he knows all twelve of the deadly strikes. That man teaches Siu Ying the final strikes and leads him to nearly kill the teacher until he remembers the rule of never killing anyone if it can be avoided.
Once the masked man is revealed, there’s still one final battle.
Look, 7 Grandmasters isn’t the best martial arts movie ever, but it’s got a story that breaks from the norm and the idea that there’s always one more strike and always someone better than you rings true. It’s definitely a blast to watch.
EDITOR’S NOTE: This article has been adapted from R D. Francis’ review of the film on May 3, 2021. You can read more of his work on Medium and learn more about it on Facebook.
The Mighty Peking Manis a 1977 monster film whose Mandarin title, Xingxing Wang, translates as “Gorilla King” in English. Yep, you guessed it: made to cash in on the 1976 King Kong remake. While Quentin Tarantino’s Rolling Thunder imprint reissued the film in 1998, MPM initially rolled out as a second-biller on the U.S. Drive-In circuit in 1980. It’s the same old story — only told with tongue firmly planted in cheek — featuring greedy explorers who exploit a very large Himalayan Yeti — with a twist: Peking Man raised a beautiful, Tarzaneque woman orphaned in a plane crash who pals around the jungle with a pet leopard. The climax: The Peking Man takes a header off Hong Kong’s Jardine Tower in a hail of helicopter gunfire and jet bombers.
And that Roger Ebert “Thumbs Up!” on the VHS sleeve ain’t no scam: it’s the real deal, as he sites MPM as “favorite Hong Kong monster film.” And mine too, Rog. Mine, too, as it’s a very well made film. And it should be, as The Mighty Peking Man had a budget of six million Hong Kong dollars under the Shaw Bros. studio (Corpse Mania). The film took over a year to complete — and that time and care shows, in spades — and it was shot in Mysore, India.
While I love it equally, the Shaw Bros. didn’t fair as well with their Hammer Studios co-production of their martial arts vamps going against Peter Cushing vamp hunter in The Legend of the Seven Golden Vampires. Their other co-production — the lesser known Shatter — was intended as a weekly TV series, but ended up being a theatrical film dovetailed into the U.S. martial arts drive-in craze of the mid-70s. Oh, and Roger Ebert enjoyed The Mighty Peking Man so much that he re-watched — and upped on his two and a half star review for — the Shaw’s 1975 release, Infra-Man — 22 years after his initial review. That’s the power of the Q: you gotta love it. And when it comes to Hong Kong cinema, none meets the power of the Shaw Bros.: you gotta love it. As you will this film. Pure awesome.
In a production twist only a B&S Movies reader can love: Koichi Kawaktia, MPM’s assistant director, later worked on Yonggary, the 1999 South Korean remake by Hyung-rae Shims of Yongary, Monster from the Deep (1967). Yonggary ’99’s co-scripter is Marty Poole, who wrote the 1997 Richard Lynch-fronted Rollerball homage, Ground Rules (oh, you gotta watch that film!!).
The Arrow Video Shaw Scope Volume One box set has The Mighty Peking Man in both uncompressed Mandarin and English original mono audio, as well as newly translated English subtitles for the Mandarin audio, plus English hard-of-hearing subtitles for the English dub.
There’s also brand new commentary by Travis Crawford, a new interview with suit designer Keizo Murase, a 2003 iInterview with director Ho Meng-hua, a 2004 interview with star Ku Feng, behind-the-scenes Super 8 footage from the archives of Keizo Murase, an unrestored standard-definition version, alternate opening credits from Goliathon(the US version of The Mighty Peking Man), trailers from the Hong Kong, US, German and Dutch versions, as well as the U.S. TV commerical and an image gallery.
You can also stream this movie on the Arrow player. Visit ARROW to start your 30-day free trial. Subscriptions are available for $4.99 monthly or $49.99 yearly. ARROW is available in the US, Canada, the UK and Ireland on the following Apps/devices: Roku (all Roku sticks, boxes, devices, etc), Apple TV & iOS devices, Android TV and mobile devices, Fire TV (all Amazon Fire TV Sticks, boxes, etc), and on all web browsers at https://www.arrow-player.com.
A Harlequin for my heart:Image courtesy of Sherry E. DeBoer via her IMDb page from a “Teen” magazine photo shoot.
Well, you know how the VCRs roll at B&S About Movies . . . where a review of Peter Carpenter’s Point of Terror, as well as Blood Mania, leads to a reader inquiry and discussion on whatever happened ever happened to Pete . . . which inspires a two-fer review of Vixen! and Love Me Like I Do to finish off his all-too-slight resume. And those discussion about Pete left us wondering . . . “What ever happened to Gene Shane from Werewolves on Wheels and The Velvet Vampire?”
Well, as you know, we solved “The Case of Peter Carpenter” with that said, two-fer review, and we peeled away at the onion that is “The Mystery of Gene Shane” watering our eyes with our review of The Velvet Vampire. Luckily — because we are so exhausted from those two crazed investigations of our favorite actors of yore — “The Case of Sherry Miles,” now known as DeBoer, is more easier slice and diced, thanks to her involvement in her own IMDb page, along with the many, loyal websites* dedicated to all things Hee Haw (an old “Kornfield Kountry” TV series that aired on CBS in the ’60s).
So, let’s pay tribute to one of our favorite — and missed — actress of the ’60s and ’70s.
What might have been: Sherry won — then lost — the role of Bobbie to Ann-Margret in Mike Nichols’s Carnal Knowledge (1971) — which also starred the equally burgeoning Jack Nicholson and Candace Bergen. Image courtesy of the Sherry E. DeBoer Archives, via IMDb.
That Teen modeling spread we used for our banner, above, soon transitioned Sherry into an acting career, which began with the pre-Gilligan’s Island Bob Denver series The Good Guys (1969), an early Aaron Spelling series, the counterculture sci-fi drama, The New People (1969), and Medical Center (1969) starring Chad Everett (The Intruder Within). Sherry’s other, early ’70s appearances included the popular series Mod Squad, Nanny and the Professor, Pat Paulsen’sHalf a Comedy Hour, The Name of the Game, The High Chaparral, The Beverly Hillbillies, Adam 12, Love American Style, and The Partridge Family (Sherry over Susan Dey, every day of the week — and twice on Sundays!). As we crossed the nation’s bicentennial, Sherry appeared on the popular series Baretta with Robert Blake (Corky), Police Woman with Angie Dickinson (Big Bad Mama), Richie Brockelman, Private Eye with future director Dennis Dugan (Love, Weddings & Other Disasters), and Wonder Woman with Lynda Carter (Bobbi Joe and the Outlaw). And let’s not forget Sherry’s 26-episode run as part of the comedy ensemble on the homegrown variety show Hee Haw* during its 1971 to 1972 season.
A one-time heiress to the Hawaii-based Long’s Drug Store chain (now owned and operated by CVS since 2008; I’m in there, often), Sherry Miles got married, became a DeBoer, and retired from the business after her final, on-camera appearance during the third season of Wonder Woman. Since her retirement, she’s become a long-respected animal rights activist.
Adorable. Sherry in 1969 on Pat Paulsen’s Half a Comedy Hour/Walt Disney Television.
Some of Sherry’s films you may not know. Others you have seen. And, hopefully, after this “Exploring” feature, you’ll search out the others. But you’ll surely revisit with Sherry in everyone’s favorite film of her career: The Velvet Vampire, a film so gosh-darn fine that, no offense to Sherry, intended: even if she weren’t in it . . . basically, we’re telling you to put The Velvet Vampire on your must-watch list, unintended insults to Sherry, be damned.
Okay, let’s unpack Sherry’s all-too-brief, big screen career, shall we?
Cry For Poor Wally (1969)
Everything . . . ended up on VHS in the ’80s. Everything.
Russell Johnson (the Professor of Gilligan’s Island fame) stars as the small town sheriff in this “based on a true story” crime-drama filmed in Dallas, Texas. Johnson confronts Wally (a very good Keith Rothschild in his only film role; Johnson is equally fine): a fugitive on the run who takes a woman hostage in a diner with the goal of staying out of prison — no matter the cost. As Johnson tries to talk down Wally, the story flashes back as to the “why” it all happened: upon the death of his mother, his father leaves (abandons) him for greener pastures; his girlfriend (Sherry Miles) also contributes to his psychotic break.
Keep your eyes open for another slight-resume actress in Barbara Hancock, who we enjoyed in her fourth and final film, the “GP” horror film, The Night God Screamed (1972). In addition to Russell and Sherry, this is packed with a great cast of familiar character actors of the you-know-them-when-you-see-them variety of Elisha Cook, Jr., Bill Thurman (!) ,Gene Ross, and Paul Lambert.
Cry for Poor Wally proved to be the only producing and directing effort by Marty Young. Screenwriter Marshall Riggan followed with the Christian apocalypse drama Six-Hundred & Sixty Six (1972) and completed his features career with the lost, psychological horror, So Sad About Gloria (1973).
There’s a copy on the Internet Archive to stream. There’s also a ten-minute highlight reel — of its opening diner scene — courtesy of our friends at Scarecrow Video on You Tube, who also contributed the film’s full-digitized upload to the IA.
To say Sam and I love this movie — Sherry’s presence, aside — is a well-worn trope.
The Phynx are a manufactured band — kind of like the Monkees meets Stripes — made up of A. “Michael” Miller, Ray Chipperway, Dennis Larden and Lonny Stevens. They’re trained in all manner of espionage, as well as rock ‘n roll, including meeting Dick Clark, record industry-emissary James Brown, and being taught how to have some “soul” by Richard Pryor. Hey, wait a sec . . . didn’t Cliff Richards and the Shadows do the “spy rock” thing in Finders Keepers (1966)?
At once an indictment of the system and the product of the very hand that it is biting, The Phynx occupies the same weird space as Skidoo, i.e., big-budget Hollywood films trying desperately — and failing — to reach the long-haired hippy audience — like the Monkees with Head — yet failing to understand them at any level. Sort of like the next film on today’s program.
Since this is locked up in the Warner Archive, there’s no streams to share, but here’s a clip on You Tube.
Making It (1971)
Ugh. The marketing of movies.
Based on the theatrical one-sheet and the R-rating, you’re expecting a soft-core sexploitationer: you actually end up with a not-so-bad, smart “coming of age” teen dramedy. As it should be: it’s written by Peter Bart (for 20th Century Fox), who you known best as the co-host, with film executive Peter Guber, of AMC’s film talk and interview programs Shootout and Storymakers, as well as Encore’s In the House. True movieheads known, that, after his screenwriting career, Bart was a writer at the New York Times, an Editor-In Chief at Variety, and later a Vice President of Production at Paramount Studios. While serving as the screenwriting debut for Bart, Making It was also the feature film debut for longtime TV director John Erman (Outer Limits, My Favorite Martian, Star Trek: TOS); continuing with TV series, Erman directed numerous TV movies into the early-2000s.
While Sherry Miles is what brought us here: we’re also captivated by a cast that features early roles for the familiar Bob Balaban (made his debut in in the iconic Midnight Cowboy), David Doyle (yep, Bosley from TV’s Charlie’s Angels), character actor extraordinaire John Fiedler, Denny Miller, Lawrence Pressman, and Tom Troupe, along with the brother-sister thespian duo of Dick and Joyce Van Patten.
Based on the ’60s best-seller, What Can You Do?, a very young Kristoffer Tabori (later of Brave New World and a Star Wars video game voice artist) stars as Phil Fuller: a 17-year-old ne’er-do-well clone of David Cassidy (who would have been perfect in the “grown up” role) living with his widowed mother (Joyce Van Patten). He quenches his self-centered needs by using the girls in his school (prom queen, Sherry Miles), his nerdy best friend (a very young Bob Balaban), and his basketball coach (Denny Miller) — by taking up with his wife (Marlyn Mason). Meanwhile, Joyce Van has or own sexual issues: she’s facing the thoughts of an abortion after shacking up with an insurance agent (played by her brother!). Then Phil, himself, deals with the issues of abortion when he gets one of his high school-conquests, pregnant.
In the end, what you get in the frames of Making It is not a sexploitation comedy, or even a “coming of age” dramedy, but an insightful examination of a pre-Roe vs. Wade world regarding the legalities surrounding abortions (then illegal in California, where this takes place, but legal in New York, where a Patten’s character considers going to get one).
It’s pretty heavy stuff of a time and place, but without the favorable atmosphere of Fast Times of Ridgemont High — if that film centered soley on Mike Damone knocking up Stacy Hamilton. My youthful nostalgia for movies like this slide in nicely next to an early Sam Elliot in Lifeguard, Dennis Christopher in California Dreaming, and the genre change-up with Cathy Lee Crosby in Coach. Your own nostalgia mileage — and for all films Sherry Miles — may vary.
My enjoyment of this movie, which serves as the suffix-title to this retrospective on Sherry Miles, is unbound. Sherry is not only stellar in it: so is the cast, under the pen and lens of Stephanie Rothman. Simply put: this is a beautiful, creepy film.
Swinging Lee Ritter and his vapid, but pretty wife, Susan (Sherry Miles), make the mistake of accepting the art gallery invitation of a mysterious, red-dressed vixen, Diane LeFanu (Celeste Yarnall), to visit her secluded, desert estate. The couple soon discover Diane is a centuries-old vampire — and both are objects of her bisexual thirsts.
The Todd Killings (1971)
Also known as Maniac in the VHS ’80s.
Fans of the based-in-fact teen murder tale of River’s Edge (marketed on the later VHS “slasher” reissues as Maniac; it’s why we rented it) will enjoy Sherry Miles’s second — after Cry for Poor Wally — true crime drama, this one based on the true story of ’60s thrill-killer Charles Schmid, known as “The Pied Piper of Tuscon.”
The film was inspired by a March 1966 Life magazine article about the killings, which, in turn, inspired the 1966 short anthology story “Where Are You Going, Where Have You Been?” Schmid’s exploits were also loosely adapted into the Treat Williams-starring Smooth Talk (1985), as well as the (woefully inferior) films Dead Beat (1994) and The Lost (2005).
Skipper Todd (an outstanding Robert F. Lyons, a much-seen ’60s TV actor in his fourth feature film, but first starring role) is a charismatic, 23-year old ne’er-do-well who charms his way into the lives of out-of-his-age-bracket high school kids in a small California town. The girls, of course, fall instantly for him and head out to the desert for some romantic fun — only never to return. As in the true crimes that inspired River’s Edge, Todd, aka Schmid, was assisted by his girlfriend and best friend in luring, killing, and burying the victims. Shocking for its time, Belinda J. Montgomery and Richard Thomas are frontal nude; Montgomery’s is cut from the later VHS versions.
As with Cry for Poor Wally, this is another one of those lost, underrated gems — it’s heartbreaking for all concerned, even the beyond salvation Skipper Todd — of the Drive-In era rediscovered, not during the UHF-TV ’70s, but the home video ’80s. The quality comes courtesy of its familiar cast of a just-starting-out Richard Thomas (as Skipper’s loyal hanger-on buddy), along with Edward Asner, Barbara Bel Geddes, James Broderick, Michael Conrad (remember the gruff commander on Hill Street Blues?) Gloria Grahame, and Fay Spain. Also keep your eyes open for musician-actress Holly Near in her third role; she made her debut in the critically lambasted Angel, Angel Down WeGo (1969).
There’s no trailers or streams to share — well, there’s a You Tube Italian-dub to skim — but the DVDs abound in the online marketplace. This is a great film. It’s also a nihilistic, downbeat one, but still worthy of a watch.
Calliope (1971)
The new and improved Calliope.
“Spoofs today’s sex films (i.e., porn) the way Batman spoofed Super Heroes!” — tagline for the original, first release of Calliope
I just can’t see my dearest Sherry signing on the dotted line for a goofy, post-Russ Meyer wannabe skinflick that proclaims: “It spreads, and spreads, and spreads,” only to equate its comedy to a beloved Adam West TV series. Obviously, what was presented during negotiations to Sherry, and what was distributed to theaters, differed. Wildly. But what else should we have expected from writer-director Matt Climber, he who gave us The Black Six (1973), Pia Zadora in Butterfly (1981), and a sex-bent take on Indiana Jones with Yellow Hair and the Fortress of Gold (1984)?
Well, this movie. That’s what. And this one is truly a lost film.
So much for producing an Americanized remake of the significant and cinematically-respected La Ronde (1950), a 1900s-era, spicy-romantic, French-language comedy by German-born director Max Ophüls, which earned a 1952 “Best Screenplay” Oscar nod. He also repeated that Oscar feat with his next film, Le Plaisir (1952), which earned a 1955 nod for its Art Direction, done by Max, himself. So loved was La Ronde in its homeland, as well as across Europe, Roger Vadim (Barbarella) updated the film as Circle of Love (1964), with his soon-to-be lover, Jane Fonda. As for the Ophüls original: it took four years before U.S. film sensors approved the film, sans cuts, for theater showings in 1954.
As for the U.S. remake, originally released under the title, Calliope, what could go wrong: everything. Didn’t you hear the sound of two-time Oscar-nominated Max Ophüls turning over in his grave?
Both films are concerned with ten people “in various episodes in the endless waltz of love” (they go “round and round,” thus the titles), as they each hop from encounter to encounter . . . and that’s were it all stops. Dead.
Since Americans were still swingin’ from the free-loving, Summer of Love ’60s, and Mike Nichols answered the “sex revolution” charge with the aforementioned Carnal Knowledge (1971) (and Paul Mazursky’s 1969 effort, Bob & Carol & Ted & Alice), Allied Artists (an outgrowth of Monogram Pictures, a library now owned-split among Warner Bros., Metro-Goldwyn-Mayor, and Paramount; Warner owns Calliope) decided that, instead of the main protagonist (now a hippie musician instead of soldier-on-leave) eventually finding love with the partner he started off with (Sherry Miles, now a band groupie, instead of the original’s prostitute) . . . he receives “the gift that goes on giving”: a sexually transmitted disease, i.e., venereal disease, since this was the ’70s and not the AIDS ’80s.
Yuk Yuk.
Calliope (no theatrical one-sheets exist, at least online), needless to say, bombed. Ah, but the “Golden Age of Porn” was in full swing, so Allied Artists didn’t give up: a year later, in 1972, the reimaged Love Is Catching hit the circuit; it opened in, of all places, the home base of B&S About Movies: Pittsburgh. It bombed, again, and harder than a Richard Harrison Philippine film he was edited-into and never signed on to do.
This soft-sexploitation romp causes me to reflex on poor Gerald McRaney and Tom Selleck, each scoring their first major roles in Night of Bloody Horror and Daughters of Satan, respectively. The scripts are pretty good . . . and work is work . . . and they thesp’d up a sweat to make it all work . . . then J.N Houck, Jr., and worse, in Tom Selleck’s case, since U.S. major, United Artists, backed it, cheesed the films with exploitative ad campaigns. Just like Calliope. And Skidoo. And Myra Breckinridge.
Sherry, six films in to her career, and just missing out on a co-starring role with Jack Nicholson in one of Mike Nichols best films — a frank, adult-discussion of modern-day sexual issues — was deserving of a better, leading lady role than this STD sex farce.
Sure, it’s a well-shot picture, and the acting is pretty decent (we have great character actors Marjorie Bennett and Stan Rose, on board). And it’s not all that bad; sure, modernizing from the early 1900s to the late 1960s is inspired. And it’s not at all porny, since the sex scenes are implied, more than shown . . . but I still have this need to go back in time and kick someone . . . for having my sweet Sherry transmitting VD in a movie.
But things are looking up, nicely, with our next feature.
The Ballad of Billie Blue (1972)
Also known as Starcrossed Road on ’80s VHS shelves.
From a sexploitation flick to a Christian cinema obscurity: only in Tinseltown, baby. And while his name is nixed from the one-sheet (whatever, Plekker, nice n’ cheesy paste-up work): the writer-director here is Ken Osborne, the man behind the pen and lens on the biker flick Wild Wheels (1969). He also appeared in our Uncle Al Adamson’s Blood of Dracula’s Castle (1969), Five Bloody Graves (1969), and Hell’s Bloody Devils (1970).
And there’s more!
In addition to Sherry Miles, we have Marty Allen and Eric Estrada? Ray Danton (too many ’60s to ’70s TV series to mention)? Bruce Kimball (Rollercoaster)? Where’s the VCR. Load the tape. LOAD THE TAPE!
The pedigree is the thing in this imperiled-musician-in-a-spiritual-crisis tale, not only with our director, Ken Osborne: the scribe behind this Christploitationer, Ralph Luce, also wrote Wild Wheels. Why, yes, that’s Robert Dix and William Kerwin from Satan’s Sadists, and Herschell Gordon Lewis’s Blood Feast, respectively, in the cast, as well as, again, a very youthful, pre-CHiPs Erik Estrada. And we mention Erik a second time, since this second film in his career was also his second Christploiter. The first was The Cross and the Switchblade, which starred ’60s crooner Pat Boone, as directed by Don Murray (Conquest of the Planet of the Apes).
The Ballad of Billie Blue is the tale of a drug-and-boozed out country music star — our faux-message “Jesus Christ” of the proceedings — sent to prison, aka Hell, on a bum murder rap; he finds God by way of a prison preacher and a Christ-following country music star.
Regardless of its secular, exploitative pedigree, this was Rated-G — and it ran as a “Special Church Benefit” in rural theaters, as well as in churches and tent revivals. Granted it’s no country-cautionary tale in the vein of A Star Is Born (1976) with Kris Kristofferson, but it’s not a total disaster.
I still say the Oscar-winning dramedy Sideways (2004) starring Paul Giamatti (in the Beau Bridges role) and Thomas Haden Church (in the Rob Liebman role) stole this movie lock, stock, and wine bottle. But I digress. . . .
So . . . the ’70s and their slew of ne’er-do-well “buddy films” were entertaining times, with the likes of Midnight Cowboy (1969), starring Jon Voight and Dustin Hoffman, Busting (1974), with Elliott Gould and Robert Blake, Freebie and the Bean (1974), starring Alan Arkin and James Caan, and Let’s Do It Again (1975), with Bill Cosby and Sidney Poitier.
My old Pop loved his “buddy films,” so you didn’t have to sell us twice — especially when the buddies are Beau Bridges and Ron Liebman. And we ain’t hatin’ Janet Margolin in the frames, either. Mom and Pop dumped me at the sitter to see this back when; I watched it later, amid the ultra-high frequency haze of my pre-cable TV youth. All, of course, were rented, again, when they hit home video.
Oh, and speaking of Sideways: this isn’t just a buddy film. You know all of those Judd Apatow, gross-out “road movies” you love: this is where that road, began. Only without any of the Paul Rudd or Seth Rogen annoyance aftertaste.
Charlie (a perfectly cast Beau Bridges) is a henpecked office drone-doormat at a dead-end job, engaged to harping woman (Janet Margolin, Planet Earth). The lone spark in his life is his “idol,” Mike (an even more perfectly cast Rob Liebman), a narcissistic and misogynistic, well, dickhead, of a buddy. So, to get Charlie out from under his soon-to-be-loveless marriage — and his own, mounting debts and his recently cut-off unemployment benefits — the pair hits the roads of the California coast on Mike’s last two, usable credit cards, subsidized by a little bit of larceny. Along the way, the pick up two, nubile hippie chicks (in the expertly cast) June Fairchild (Up In Smoke) and Sherry Miles.
So, somewhere in the frames is a message about America’s newfound “liberation” forged in the ’60s (more effectively done with Beau’s brother, Jeff, in 1974’s Thunderbolt and Lightfoot), but while this warms the ol’ UHF-TV cockles of watching it with ol’ Pop all those years ago, Your Three Minutes Are Up is an erratic, rambling TV movie-flat messadventure that could have easily went the bloody-serial killer route — if not for its purposeful, comedic slant. Think Easy Rider sans the drugs and bikes, or Five Easy Pieces with Liebman as our ersatz Jack Nicholson, and you’re on the right road in this still, effectively cast and well-acted adventure.
Look, Steven Hilliard Stern (The Park Is Mine) is directing . . . so what’s not to like, here?
Well, uh, not much, in this woefully dated “sex revolution” tale that sequels the box office hit, The Harrad Experiment (1973), which grossed $3 million against $400,000.
So, why did this sure-fire hit, flop?
Well, the character of James Whitmore (Brooks Hatlen in The Shawshank Redemption) doesn’t return. Tippi Hedren’s does, but is replaced by a lookalike in Emmaline Henry (Ms Amanda Bellows from TV’s I Dream of Jeannie). And Don Johnson and Bruno Kirby bowed out. Sure, Laurie Walters (Warlock Moon; later TV’s Eight Is Enough), who made her acting debut in the original, is back, and so is bit TV actress Victoria Thompson, but who is coming to see either? And we want more Sherry Miles, thank you.
Note to executives: When you loose three quarters of your cast, don’t make the sequel.
Anyway, the premise is that faux-Stanley and Harry, along with real-Sheila and Beth, are out on summer break from their first year at Harrad College: it’s time to test their new found sexual freedom in the real world. Or something. Like going back and re-watching Bob & Ted & Carol & Alice and Carnal Knowledge.
Hey, I champion Stern’s TV work just as much as my fellow fan of the VHS obscure, but this is simply yawn-inducing . . . .the total opposite of The Harrad Experiment, which has Don and Bruno — especially Bruno — going for it. Robert Reiser and Richard Doran in their places, well . . . they’re not awful: they just don’t have the same spunk to make the hippie proceedings, hep.
No streams, but the DVDs are out there; here’s the trailer.
Okay. So, the heart breaker and dream maker of my wee-lad years, Sherry Miles, closes out her career by running around an island with Joe Don Baker to escape a pack of wild dogs . . . get this: under the lens of Robert Clouse of Enter the Dragon, Black Belt Jones, and Golden Needles fame?
Load. The. Tape. Now.
Sure, this beat Stephen’s King’s Cujoto theaters and was all about a literal army of dogs biting everyone on Seal Island — which has nothing on Dog Island from Humongous. So, was Robert Clouse inspired by the 1976 film starring David McCallum that you don’t want to confuse with The Pack, aka Dogs? Probably. No, not Devil Dog: Hound of Hell (1978), as that one starred Richard Crenna. Get your horror dog movies, straight, buddy! Did Clouse’s dog romp inspire Earl Owensby’s (Dark Sunday) backwater sheriff fighting off government-bred mutts in Dogs of Hell (1983)? Probably.
What else can we say: it’s a killer dog movie. Not even Sherry’s presence can save it. But horror was hot and, as an actor, you jump the trend and hope for a hit. Well, it is to us, at B&S About Movies. We’re weird that way.
There’s no freebie streams, but the PPVs are out there; here’s the trailer.
The blue eyes and crooked smile that launched a thousand ships: Sherry, in her final role for an episode of TV’s Wonder Woman.Imagine Sherry going “Scream Queen” and dominating the Slasher ’80s . . . what might have been.
So wraps this latest “Exploring” featuring, this one on (sigh . . . skyrockets . . . rainbows . . . fields of flowers . . . hearts with angel wings) Sherry Miles. Be sure to click the “Exploring” tag below to read the full list of all of our “Exploring” features on the lost, forgotten and awesome actors and directors, as well as genres, of the Drive-In ’60s, the UHF-TV ’70s, and VHS ’80s eras.
Yeah, we’re doin’ it for the celluloid love. And because we’re just crazy that way. This is B&S About Movies, after all.
* Learn more about Hee Haw at this Alchetron.com fan site.
Some of our other actor and director career explorations include:
The one and done Jim West and Jim Clarke, in their respective director’s and writer’s chairs (and are probably one and the same), and the leads of Don Watson and Bobby Watson (real life brothers, natch), as our ne’er-do-well anti-Beau and Luke Duke heroes (the bearded longhairs Oosh and Doosh; no, really), smoke up ol’ Hazzard County — with the comedy dispensed for action (but the goofy stock library music cues, in places, are more comedy than action) as we hang from helicopters, demolish motor homes, and drive through houses transported-by-flat beds.
Oosh and Doosh, those dang “Watson boys” — since we’re off the small TV screens of Hazzard and on the big ol’ white screens of the Deep South mosquito emporiums — run pot and coke through the Georgia backwoods for corrupt politicians in the pocket the local Mafia. Of course, the brothers Watson get caught on that backwood, peach tree airfield where all that Cuban and Columbia gold flies in.
Hell, yeah, their employers break them out of prison because Oosh and Doosh are drug-runnin’ cash cows for the criminal cause. But their arrest — and eventual helicopter breakout — cost their bosses a lot of money. Now they’re on the hook to pay it all back. Yep! It’s time for the “biggest heist” of their ersatz pharmaceutical careers: Remember how the Bandit transported Coors from Texarkana to Atlanta? Well, those Watson boys are transporting an 18-wheeler filled with weed (disguised as a bags of potatoes). But the 18-Wheeler was trashed in a dust-up with the cops: now they’re in even deeper to their bosses: it’s time to rob an armored car — an unintentionally kill one of the guards. Once the big chase between the Watson boys’ Camero and a DEA agent’s pursuit Dodge Challenger comes to its eventual conclusion, there is only one thing left to do: the Watson boys steal their bosses’ home safe filled with money, hop the plane, and head for South America.
Get your own copy on Mill Creek’s Drive-In Classics!
Yeah, we know this is all pre-The Dukes of Hazzard and Smokey and the Bandit inspired it all — and this ain’t no Gone In 60 Seconds or even Double Nickles or even Flash and the Firecat — but this sure looks like it was made a lot earlier than 1976 or 1977. But it’s not: it was made post-1975, as we will soon learn.
Sure, the acting is awful, the action (while there’s occasional, momentary flashes of excitement) is inept, the script is beyond flawed-with-no-real-plot (it feels like it was “plotted” as the production plodded along), and the cinematography is a wee-bit muddy. But first-time filmmaker Jim West (we can’t find any background on his film-making past) works the cameras pretty decently. He keeps everything visually engaging with interesting shots and all of the required oners, doubles, reversals, and close-ups are there. West is certainly no Hal Needham, but he’s also not a Larry Buchanan or Bill Rebane, either (compare In Hot Pursuit against their respective films Down on Us and The Alpha Incident and you’ll see what we mean).
Yeah, ol’ Burt, who started it all with the likes of White Lightning and Gator, only to reignite the Hicksploitation genre for the ’80s with Smokey and the Bandit . . . well, the southern drive-in circuit was hungry for those modern-day, good ol’ boy westerns featuring redline revvin’ cars smugglin’ drugs lieu of horses and cattle rustlin’. As I rewatch In Hot Pursuit all these VHS years later, I’m reflecting back on Ulli Lommel’s (BrainWaves, Blank Generation) two-years later Cocaine Cowboys when I watch this. And those Watson brothers sure be do give me a hankerin’ to watch the Young Brothers, Richard and David, flyin’ their pot plane in Stuart Raffill’s High Risk.
Eh, you know what: I love this inept, stupid movie because everyone involved are on the cosine of the Z-List in their professions, but they’re given it their all to make a B-List drive-in flick. In a bonus round: Quentin Tarantino likes this one: he screened it as part of his annual “Grindhouse Film Festival,” so there you go.
And go you shall, to You Tube. Oh, Car Chase Wonderland, what would we do without you to satiate our red neckin’ car chase jonesin’? Ah, but just in case, we have a back-up You Tube copy, here. Meanwhile, the fine folks at the online magazine Condition Critical preserved a copy of the ’80s VHS sleeves, here. So, as you can see, this lone film by Jim West has its fans.
And this tale has a twist. . . .
Polk County Pot Plane is based on a real life incident chronicled on the Tallapoosa Memories Facebook page (the post also offers photos and articles about the 1975 events). The way the Georgia memories of smuggler Marty Raulins reads . . . well, it’s a hell of a lot more interesting than the fictional tale Jim West cooked up.
The story goes: Jim West was involved in all of the real life pot shenanigans of the federal government-confiscated DC-4 and buying the land where the airstrip was located . . . and the opening scene of the film of the plane being flown off the airstrip, and the third-act’s scenes of the heavy-equipment clearing of the airstrip . . . well, that’s the same government confiscated plane, and Jim’s clearing the airstrip to move the plane of its mountain perch. Turns out (and as a radio broadcast in the film tells us), the government made the bust and seized the plane . . . then had “no idea” how to get it off the mountain nor wanted to “pay for the cost” of moving it. So they auctioned the land and the plane to the highest bidder: Jim West won — then made his movie about Georgia’s infamous Polk County Pot Plane of 1975.
Courtesy of Wikimapia.org, who truncated the true story that led to the film:
“Drug smugglers flying a Douglas DC-4 (N67038) landed at a 1000 foot airstrip which had been bulldozed out of the forest only hours beforehand. The DC-4, designed for runways of 3000 feet or longer, managed to stop in less than 500. Numerous bales of marijuana were unloaded from the aircraft, which was then abandoned. As one might expect, a large four engine piston aircraft roaring about the countryside at low level in the dead of night attracted considerable attention from the locals, and law enforcement in particular. Numerous suspects were quickly apprehended in the following days. Charges were dropped against many, including the owner of the DC-4, as it could not be conclusively proven that he was the pilot at the time it landed in Polk County.
“The DC-4 had been seized by authorities as evidence. Various schemes for disposing of the aircraft were proposed. One involved using helicopters to airlift the ship out of the woods to the nearest proper airport. Another was to turn the site into a local tourist attraction. At length though, the aircraft was auctioned off to the highest bidder on the courthouse steps. The new owner lengthened the airstrip out to roughly 3500 feet and flew the aircraft out shortly thereafter [which is our filmmaker: Jim West!].”
You can also read another take of the tale in the August 2019 digital pages of the Rome News-Tribune by Kevin Myrick. The New York Times has also digitized their August 1975 coverage of the bust, “Plane on Mountaintop Perplexes Sheriff.” Do you want a commemorative tee-shirt? Polk Today, through the Poke History Society Museum, has ’em!
Just, wow. This one of the best backstories to a movie, ever. It even out-metas H. B. “Toby” Halicki’s Gone in 60 Seconds trilogy, with his movie-within-movie-within-movie shenanigans of The Junkman and Deadline Auto Theft! A producer needs to read up on this and do a meta-movie about the making of Polk County Pot Plane! I’d pay to see that movie. (And give me a role, will ya’? Even an under-five will do. I sure do need an acting gig.)
Be sure to check out our rundown of hicksploitation and redneck cinema delights from the ’70s and ’80s with our “Top 70 Good Ol’ Boys Film List.”
About the Author: You can learn more about the writings of R.D Francis on Facebook.He also writes for B&S About Movies.
R.D reviewed this one back on September 21, 2021, but now that 88 Films has released it, it’s my turn. Yes, this is one of the first releases from this label in the U.S.
“For the last decade 88 Films has been one of the leading physical media collector’s labels in the UK specializing in cult film releases packed with bonus features in beautiful packaging,” said Eric D. Wilkinson, Director of Home Video Sales and Acquisitions for MVD Entertainment Group. “For years, consumers here in North America had to import these releases if they wanted to add them to their collections, but all of that is about to change. MVD is the leading independent distribution partner of physical media collector’s labels, and we not only proudly welcome 88 Films to our family but are thrilled to help introduce 88 Films to American consumers.”
Richard Elliott, Managing Director of 88 Films, commented, “We are enormously excited to bring our 88 Films brand to the United States and in MVD we have found the perfect distribution partners. We will be releasing our usual fare of Slasher classics, Italian Genre titles and Martial Arts Cinema and we are so pleased to be joining the pantheon of amazing American indie blu-ray labels.”
Well, they started off strong!
Still banned in the UK as one of the infamous Video Nasties —Section 1 — this might be the roughest of all Nazisploitation movies and that’s saying something. I mean, they don’t call it Last Orgy Of The Third Reich and Caligula Reincarnated As Hitler because it’s a family movie.
Cesare Canevari made nine movies, from giallo (A Hyena in the Safeand Killing of the Flesh) to westerns (Matalo!) and erotic films (A Man for Emmanuelle, The Nude Princess). None of these will prepare you for this film.
Conrad von Starke (Marc Loud, who is really Adriano Micantoni) has agreed to meet in the ruins of an old death camp with Lise Cohen (Daniela Poggi, the only actress that I know who went from Nazi movie star to UNICEF Goodwill Ambassador), whose testimony may have saved his life at a war crimes trial. They make love inside the walls of the decimated camp as Lise remembers when this place was a soul destroying machine. I mean, where else would they line up an army of SS troopers and make them watch videos so disgusting that even I was taken aback and then unleashed upon unsuspecting women?
Between the idea taking directly from The Night Porter and this scene being Salo or the 120 Days of Sodom on a small scale, this movie obviously does not care at all about your sensibiities.
As if the movie heard you wonder, “Can it get any worse?” then the officers eat a stew made out of babies before roasting a woman by coating her in brandy, throwing her in an open coffin and setting her ablaze before eating her. I mean, this movie has enough to offend you in two of ots minutes more than just about everything that will come out in the next five years.
Why is Lise so strong in the face of torture, unlike everyone else? Because she gave her family over to the SS and wants to die to atone for her sins. When a camp doctor tells her that this was not her fault, she finds that she wants to live by any means she can, so she becomes Starke’s woman. After his jealous German girlfriend assaults him with his own whip, he strangles her and proclaims his love for Lise, who shows hers by wearing a belt made of the scalps of her fellow prisoners. Yet when she has his child, a half-Jewish infant has no place in the Fatherland.
This wakes her from her memories and after they finish making love, she murders him.
Man, this movie!
Seriously, this is not for everyone. But there’s definitely some class here. I mean, there’s also a scene where a woman eats her own waste and poses with it, so there’s that. But this has a production budget, great costumes and an attempt at telling an actual story when it’s not doing all it can to either make you run screaming or desensitize you for life.
Somehow, you may wonder, just how gorgeous can a 1977 Italian Nazi movie look? Funny story — it looks great thanks to a brand new 2K restoration from the original camera negatives. It’s raw and completely uncut with new subtitles and two audio commentaries one by critic and author Samm Deighan and the other by Italian movie specialists Troy Howarth and Nathaniel Thomson. The package with slipcover is beautiful, along with a book and double sided poster. You can get this from MVD or Diabolik DVD. Seriously, if you have the stomach for it, 88 Films knocked this release out of the park.
EDITOR’S NOTE: We did a Chilling Classics Mill Creek month three years ago and Bill Van Ryn wrote this on November 7, 2018. He loves this movie so much that we watched it on our live show and had a drink to celebrate it! For more of Bill’s writing, check out Groovy Doom and Drive-In Asylum.
A popular vacation spot, desperate for tourist dollars, is suddenly beset by a beast that kills people. This coincides with the big breadwinning season of the vacation spot, leading the people in charge to hush up the deaths and avoid spooking the tourists into bolting. In the post-Jaws 1970s, there was no limit to the number of movies that came along with this exact same plot. One of the most successful imitators was William Girdler’s 1976 flick Grizzly, which placed the action in a park and substituted a bear for a shark. 1977 TV movies Snowbeast distills this formula even further, making the park a Colorado ski resort and changing the grizzly to a bigfoot monster.
Robert Logan and Sylvia Sidney play a grandson and grandmother who find their winter carnival interrupted by a monster that starts attacking and eating isolated people on the slopes — at one point, Logan says he can identify a victim’s body by looking at her face, and another character says “She doesn’t have it anymore.”Sidney, of course, doesn’t want to admit that there is a problem at all, and advises Logan to keep it a secret. Bo Svenson is a former Olympic ski champion who has fallen on hard times and picks the wrong time to come to his old friend Logan for a job; I’m pretty sure entering into combat with a murderous bigfoot was not what he signed on for. Svenson’s wife, played by Yvette Mimieux, happens to be a former flame of Logan’s adding a love triangle to the story. Anyone who read the novel Jaws knows there was a love triangle in that story too, although it was not retained for the film version, so maybe nobody realized at the time just how deeply the screenwriter Joseph Stefano plunder the depths of Peter Benchley’s story.
Although the violence is subdued enough for a TV movie, there are some moments of dread to be found here, like when one character is trapped in a wrecked RV and can’t escape the oncoming monster, which just comes right for him and slaughters him immediately. There’s also a very silly moment when the creature shows up to interrupt a rehearsal for a pageant. It smashes a window, causes a little hysterical panic (including a hilarious reaction shot from Sylvia Sidney), and then proceeds back to where it came, stopping along the way to kill a helpless parent who was just waiting to pick up her daughter from the rehearsal.
Ultimately, camp is king in Snowbeast, and there is enough of that on hand to entertain this jaded viewer. Also, I enjoyed the outdoor photography, including some impressive tracking shots of characters skiing.
BONUS: Here’s the drink to go with it!
Snowballbeast
.25 oz. blue curaçao
2 oz. vodka
2 oz. vanilla rum
2 oz. cream of coconut
Shake with ice in your shaker, then pour into a chilled glass. Enjoy!
“Tell Big Daddy that nobody fools with The Guy from Harlem, you dig?” — Let than be a warning to anyone who decides to mess with John Shaft, er, we mean, Al Conners
I’m just talkin’ about . . . Al Connors?
Rene Martinez, Jr. only made three blaxsploitation films, but wow, what a VHS-rental trio they were: his debut, the bike-slanted Road of Death (1973; okay, so that’s not exactly blaxploiting), and his final effort, The Six Thousand Dollar Ni**er (1978) — which aka’d as the less offensive, Super Soul Brother, and even Black Superman. Each are equally inept in all of their flubbed lines, mumbled to staccato-SHOUTED thepsin’, bad sound, exposed mic booms, clumsy soft-core sex, and Rudy Ray Moore-styled fighting awfulness: which is just how we like our blaxploitation romps to roll. You dig?
If an ex-Deep Throat actress . . . and a guy trying to pull a Rudy Ray Moore film and album combo doesn’t inspire you. . . .
In between, Martinez made this Shaft ripoff penned by his wife, Gardenia, concerned with the adventures of a rough n’ tumble, streetwise private eye named Al Connors (Loye Hawkins). Working a case in Miami, Florida, Connors is called back up to Harlem by the CIA to protect an African princess from a kidnapping plot. His assignment leads to the kidnapping of a drug kingpin’s daughter by a rival gang who wants the princess. . . .
At least I think that’s how the two stories intertwined. Yeah, we’ll go with that plot. Sorry, I was blinded by the plaid and pastel-colored suits. Those white patent leather shoes aren’t helping, either. I mean, we are dealing with a story where the CIA can’t handle the protection of a government dignitary — their job description — and contract a fourth-rate private eye. So, forget “logic,” okay?
Eh, Martinez and Loye Hawkins — like Rudy Ray Moore (Petey Wheatstraw) before them — couldn’t write, act, or direct, but they gave it a shot — with whom I think are moonlighting porn actors (especially that curly-haired blonde white guy for the “big fight” finish). Sadly, the excitement of the blaxploitation-era was over and done by the time this Martinez opus hit the drive-ins . . . to later be discovered by an April Wine tee-shirt wearing lad obsessed with ’60s biker flicks and ’70s blaxsploitation films populating the “Action” shelves of his local video emporium. Sure, you have it easier with these Mill Creek sets, but, well . . . I guess you just had to be there . . . for the days when you had to physically leave your house to rent a movie and there were no bargain box sets.
Boris Karloff and Loye Hawkins one-stop shopping!
There’s two ways to enjoy The Guy From Harlem on Tubi: the original version or its Rifftrax version. There’s no freebie streams of Road of Death, but we found a trailer on You Tube — which is all you really need, trust us. There is, however, to our celluloid chagrin, a copy of The Six Thousand Dollar Ni**er on You Tube to torture one’s self by.
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