One of the many fun things about the late, great "Mystery Science Theater 3000" was their annual all-day Turkey Day Marathons for Thanksgiving. Hour after hour after hour of bad movies -- what's not to love? So this year we're doing a Desuko Turkey Day Marathon of our own -- five days of Desuko reviews of movies that have been featured on MST3K. Here's experiment #619, "Red Zone Cuba." (Originally published Aug. 7, 2009):
The Scoop: This is yet another Coleman Francis/Anthony Cardoza turd, only this time it is apparently Francis' grand artistic statement.
Back in the '60s and '70s, just about anybody could get John Carradine to appear in their film for about the cost of a ham sandwich, so Francis apparently blew his budget on that, and then wasted the whole thing in the first two minutes of the movie. In the opening scene, Carradine turns up as a grizzled railway worker who is telling this story to a nondescript bystander. After this incredibly short day's work, Carradine disappears from the movie forever, but not before croaking the horrendously awful theme song.
From there, the real story starts. An escaped convict (played by the auteur himself, who also wrote, directed, produced and edited this red-baiting debacle) gets mixed up with five or six revolutionaries who try to invade Cuba. After an excursion that makes the Bay of Pigs look like an epic triumph, our intrepid non-heroes get captured, and a couple of them try a semi-daring escape before getting hunted down by a half-hearted posse back in the States.
At least, that's what the plot seems to indicate. Mostly, "Red Zone Cuba" just meanders from scene to scene, without much differentiation between one setting and the next. In fact, if this film is to be believed, Cuba is just a little town in the California desert. And I think the guy with the cigar and glued-on beard is supposed to be Fidel Castro.
Best Line: "I'm Cherokee Jack!"
Side Note: Apparently Cherokee Jack's plane is still in use, and is currently being flown out of a small airport in Alaska.
Companion Viewing: "The Beast of Yucca Flats" (1961) and "Invasion U.S.A." (1952).
One of the many fun things about the late, great "Mystery Science Theater 3000" was their annual all-day Turkey Day Marathons for Thanksgiving. Hour after hour after hour of bad movies -- what's not to love? So this year we're doing a Desuko Turkey Day Marathon of our own -- five days of Desuko reviews of movies that have been featured on MST3K. Here's experiment #K04 and #304, "Gamera vs. Barugon." (Originally published March 9, 2009):
The Scoop: The flying turtle madness continues!
Let's move on to the second installment in the Gamera franchise, "Gamera vs. Barugon." This time around not only is the action in color, but Gamera also makes the leap from nuclear-spawned menace to friendly protector of the Earth, just like Godzilla did in his series a decade earlier.
The bad guy role is filled by Barugon, a four-legged dinosaur/lizard/dog type thing who shoots a hilariously non-menacing rainbow ray from his back, and who can also freeze things with his tongue. Quite the odd combination, but trust me, this is one of least strange things we'll see in this series.
Some treasure hunters set the plot in motion when they bring a giant opal back to civilization, only to discover that the opal is actually an egg. Pretty soon, out pops Barugon, who proceeds to stomp the crap out of the parts of Tokyo that hadn't previously been stomped in the other kaiju movies. Finally, Gamera shows up to put the critter in his place.
On the human side we get the usual roles we're used to seeing in these movies -- committed scientist, bland girlfriend, rigid military brass, etc. They're played ably enough by the likes of Kojiro Hondo, Kyoko Emani, Yuzo Hayakawa and Takuya Fujioka, but there's really not much for them to do. Even Gamera doesn't get much to do other than show up at the end to lay the smack down.
This is pretty much the Barugon show from start to finish, resulting in what is easily the most boring of the Gamera series.
Best Line: "That monster destroys everything with his tongue!"
Side Note: The original Japanese title is "Daikaiju Keto: Gamera tai Barugon" (literally translated, "Giant Monster Duel: Gamera Against Barugon"). When American International Pictures bought the film for U.S. distribution in the late 1960s, they cut 14 minutes of footage and retitled it "War of the Monsters." In the 1980s, Sandy Frank secured the video distribution rights. He restored the missing footage, redubbed the dialogue and retitled the whole thing "Gamera vs. Barugon." So which version should you see? Frankly, it doesn't really matter since the missing footage is so yawn-inducing, it doesn't actually detract from the movie. But it sure makes it go by quicker.
Companion Viewing: Any other Gamera or Godzilla film you can get your hands on.
One of the many fun things about the late, great "Mystery Science Theater 3000" was their annual all-day Turkey Day Marathons for Thanksgiving. Hour after hour after hour of bad movies -- what's not to love? So this year we're doing a Desuko Turkey Day Marathon of our own -- five days of Desuko reviews of movies that have been featured on MST3K. Here's experiment #803, "The Mole People." (Originally published Feb. 6, 2009):
The Scoop: How dreary can the subterranean world be? Very.
This lovely little film starts off with a professor giving the audience a strange, rambling lecture on the history of various crackpot theories about ancient civilizations underground. When the story finally gets started, we find an archeological team headed by smug know-it-all John Agar that discovers an underground colony of albino Sumerians and their mole-like slaves. Agar's sidekicks include Hugh Beaumont (TV's Ward Cleaver) and the evil underground high priest is Alan Napier (best known as Alfred the Butler from the "Batman" TV series).
When the heroes' chief weapon in a flashlight, you know you're in trouble.
Luckily, this foolishness doesn't last long before the mole slaves revolt, the albino society crumbles and Agar and Beaumont escape in just the nick of time, along with their Sumerian love interest, played by the luscious Cynthia Patrick.
"The Mole People" isn't as bad as some critics make it out to be, but that's not saying it's a good film, either. Director Virgil Vogel put together a solid, if unremarkable, genre piece that only suffers because some of the absurdities in László Görög's script. If you can get past the questionable science and the fact that the mole people look like beatniks dressed for trick-or-treating, it's not a bad little film.
Best Line: "Do you think anybody's ever tried to smoke dried mushrooms?"
Side Note: The professor from the beginning is Dr. Frank Baxter, who in the mid='50s left his job teaching English at the University of Southern California to lend his authoritative aura to introducing various educational TV shows. In addition to his star on the Hollywood Walk of Fame, he was also the recipient of the first ever Golden Gavel from Toastmasters International.
One of the many fun things about the late, great "Mystery Science Theater 3000" was their annual all-day Turkey Day Marathons for Thanksgiving. Hour after hour after hour of bad movies -- what's not to love? So this year we're doing a Desuko Turkey Day Marathon of our own -- five days of Desuko reviews of movies that have been featured on MST3K. Here's experiment #621, "The Beast of Yucca Flats." (Originally published April 8, 2008):
The Scoop: Forget about all the hype about "Plan 9 From Outer Space" being the worst movie of all time. There are plenty of other contenders for that title that are far more deserving, and "The Beast of Yucca Flats" is one of them.
Not only is this writer/director (and bottom-of-the-barrel-scraper) Coleman Francis' first film (produced by good pal and eternal lead actor Anthony Cardoza), but it also stars the inimitable Tor Johnson. A respected nuclear scientist (played by Johnson, which immediately shoots down any credibility the film might have) wanders too close to an A-bomb test and is turned feral. It's then up to the local sheriff and a pal to hunt him down.
Or something.
Believe me, after five minutes, you won't even bother to keep track of the plot anymore. That's because what plot there is simply involves the actors wandering aimlessly about the desert landscape to no good purpose. And because all the audio got accidentally erased during postproduction, all the dialogue is summarized in nonsensical voice-over narration.
There was nowhere for Francis' career to go from here but up. So his two follow-up movies -- "The Skydivers" from 1963 and 1966's "Night Train to Mundo Fine" (better known as "Red Zone Cuba") -- are still incompetent in their own right, but at least are a marked improvement over this one. Simply having meaningful action and onscreen dialogue will do that.
Best Line: "Flag on the moon. How did it get there?"
Side Note: Between directing projects, Francis tried to make his living as a bit actor, playing blink-and-you'll-miss-them parts in a number of films, including "This Island Earth" (1954) and "Beyond the Valley of the Dolls" (1970).
One of the many fun things about the late, great "Mystery Science Theater 3000" was their annual all-day Turkey Day Marathons for Thanksgiving. Hour after hour after hour of bad movies -- what's not to love? So this year we're doing a Desuko Turkey Day Marathon of our own -- five days of Desuko reviews of movies that have been featured on MST3K. Here's experiment #1006, "Boggy Creek II." (Originally published Feb. 19, 2008):
The Scoop: "Gross-out" movies may be all the rage these days, but simply making poop jokes or constructing horror scenarios that break a few taboos is not all that gross. True grossness comes from other, somewhat unexpected places, usually involving ugly people and their bodily functions. Something like this movie.
Although it is labeled part two, this film is actually the third in the series about the Boggy Creek Creature, a sorry attempt to build a horror franchise around an allegedly real Bigfoot-like monster that stalks the Arkansas wetlands. The plot this time around concerns a University of Arkansas researcher who takes some of his students into the wilderness to find the monster. Mostly he just relates incidents from the earlier movies, from which footage is taken to pad out the running time.
But this has the distinction of being probably the grossest movie you'll ever see. There are lots of inbred hillbilly stereotypes, big hairy guys without much clothes, ugly people sweating profusely, and the piece de resistance -- a hick so scared by the creature that he steps in his own diarrhea in the outhouse and has to have his wife hose him off. The Arkansas Tourism Board has their work cut out for them to counteract the effects of this movie.
Best Line: "I've seen the little creature!"
Side Note: Written, produced, directed and starring Charles B. Pierce, who made a string of low budget crap in the '70s and early '80s. Most of the films featured Jimmy Clem, the fat, ugly guy who plays Crenshaw in this movie.
Companion Viewing: "The Legend of Boggy Creek" (1972), "Return to Boggy Creek (1977), "The Giant Spider Invasion" (1975) and "Squirm" (1976).
The Scoop: This is, quite simply, the greatest voodoo movie ever made. I realize that's not saying much, given the consistently sorry state of the genre, but even if they weren't all so bad, this film would stand out above the rest.
One of greatest triumphs of legendary producer Val Lewton and director Jacques Tourneur, the story follows Frances Dee as a nurse who travels to Haiti to care for the comatose wife of plantation owner Tom Conway. But the wife's condition isn't necessarily medically explainable, and the nurse turns to the local voodoo priest for help.
Lewton was a master at taking lurid b-movie fare and turning it into moody, exciting art. His best work came in a short stretch in World War II during his partnership Tourneur. The pair created a singular aesthetic that seemed to work every time out. "I Walked With a Zombie is a prime example -- their trademark creepy atmospherics and a complicated love triangle highlight this classic -- but "Cat People," "The Ghost Ship" or "Bedlam" would work just as well. So just watch them all.
Best Bit: The first walk across the cane fields.
Side Note: Very, very loosely based on Charlotte Brontë's novel "Jane Eyre."
Companion Viewing: "White Zombie" (1932), "Cat People" (1942) and "The Seventh Victim" (1943).
The Scoop: Celebrities can do embarrassing things when they're down on their luck. So, before Robert Forster got a career boost from being in "Jackie Brown" and Isaac Hayes got one from being on "South Park," they both starred in this slasher dreck.
Sam (David Shark Fralick), a Gulf War vet who is bitter because he was killed by friendly fire in Iraq (hey, who wouldn't be?), returns from the dead on the Fourth of July to terrorize a generic Small Midwestern Town. Sam's worshipful nephew must team up with Sam's old army buddy Chef (er, I mean Jed, played by Hayes, who doesn't even get to sing here) and a blind kid in a wheelchair to stop him. Forster is a politician of some sort who gets to die one of the most humiliating deaths in slasher-dom. Joining them on the humiliation train are Timothy Bottoms, P.J. Soles and Bo Hopkins.
The script by veteran schlockmeister Larry Cohen is not even up to his usual z-grade standards and the direction by William Lustig is just as bad. The effects are especially low-rent -- in one shot, the strings are literally showing. Good for laughs, but not scares.
More interesting to me, though, is that "Uncle Sam" was shot almost entirely in my (adoptive) hometown of La Verne, California. Lots of films have been shot here over the years -- almost all of them better -- but none of them show quite as many recognizable locations as this one. All you La Vernians who read this blog should really check out the film so you can see plenty of Heritage Park, downtown (including exteriors of Warehouse Pizza) and some of the familiar houses along both D Street and Second Street.
Best Bit: The unintentional comic relief of the blind wheelchair kid.
Side Note: "Uncle Sam" pretty much put an end to future film production in La Verne. When the crew set off some major pyrotechnics at 2 a.m. one night on a residential street without informing anyone beforehand -- resulting in lots of broken house windows and angry neighbors -- the city council stopped granting film permits.
The Scoop: The stretch from about 1967 to 1971 was a hotbed for innovative music, and it was the heyday of the festival concert. But it was also the heyday of the concert film, and every festival worth its name – Woodstock, Monterey Pop, Big Sur, even Altamont – had a film attached. The result of this huge archive of film, of course, is a valuable time capsule of that era. “Festival Express” is a latter-day addition to that genre.
In the summer of 1970, a short festival tour was organized across Canada, featuring the Grateful Dead, The Band, Janis Joplin, Buddy Guy, Ian & Sylvia, the Flying Burrito Brothers, Bonnie & Delaney, Sha Na Na and Mashmakhan. (Traffic and Ten Years After also were part of the tour, but don't appear in the film due to a conflict over music rights.) Everyone on the bill traveled together by train across country. It was an arrangement that was clearly a hit with the performers, who created a traveling commune, spending the long days living, eating and, most importantly, jamming together. And the film crew was there for all of it.
The tour itself was a financial disaster, not just because of the expense of the train, but also because it was dogged by protests and bad press along the way from kids who demanded that all the shows be free. The business side wound up in chaos, which is why all the film footage of the tour ended up on the shelf for more than 30 years. Which is a shame, because the footage is fantastic.
With the benefit of three decades of hindsight, director Bob Smeaton includes new interviews with the promoters and many of the performers to put the footage in context. But at times the interviews intrude too much. The film is at its best when the footage from 1970 speaks for itself. The live performances are uniformly excellent, as the musicians were obviously energized by the creative cauldron inside that train (which a couple of the interviewees describe as “heaven”). But the real treat is the train footage, which is full of great jamming from a host of talented musicians, and which also offers an extensive offstage glimpse of the people involved – something the other classic concert films of the era can’t match.
Especially poignant are the performances by Joplin. She was at the top of her game, and because she died shortly after the tour, these are among her last ever performances.
Regardless of whether you’re a fan of the era, “Festival Express” is still a must-see if you’re a fan of live music. Plus, there’s lots of rail footage too if you’re a fan of train movies, so everyone wins!
Best Bit: The liquor run in Saskatoon.
Side Note: The guitar used by Jerry Garcia during "C.C. Rider" is the same one that was played by George Harrison during the Beatles' rooftop farewell performance the year before.
Companion Viewing: "Woodstock" (1970) and "Monterey Pop" (1968).
The Scoop: William Bendix was a fantastic character actor who built a fine career in the 1940s and 1950s playing distinctive supporting parts in a variety of different films. He specialized in playing gun-toting heavies in classics like “The Blue Dahia” and “The Glass Key,” as well as playing the lovable schlub/best buddy in plenty of war movies. Unfortunately, he didn’t get to tackle lead roles too often, but when he did (most memorably in "The Life of Riley" and as the Sultan of Swat in “The Babe Ruth Story”) it was always worth a watch.
That’s why his presence is the best thing about the otherwise forgettable “Kill the Umpire.”
Bendix plays Bill Johnson, a former ballplayer who still gets so wrapped up in the game that he can’t keep a steady job because he keeps sneaking off to the ballpark during work hours. After losing one too many jobs, his wife threatens to leave him if he doesn’t do something to shape up. Bill’s father in law, a retired major league umpire, comes up with the idea of sending Bill to umpiring school so that he can make a living in the game he loves. What follows is a lot of slapsticky, sitcom-ish comedy and moralizing about the importance and integrity of umpires as Bill finally finds a steady life for himself.
The script by Frank Tashlin and direction by Lloyd Bacon are amiable and competent, but also silly and predictable. (When the opening theme incorporates the melody of “Three Blind Mice,” you know exactly what you’re in for.) Baseball has been a constant presence on the big screen since the beginning, but stories focusing on umpires have been rare, so it’s good to see that aspect of the game highlighted, even if it’s only superficially.
And it lets Bendix put his flair for comedy to work. Plus he’s surrounded by a solid cast of fellow character actors (lots of familiar faces, including Ray Collins, Una Merkel and William Hawley) who do a lot to save the film from itself. But ultimately “Kill the Umpire” falls a little flat with its ridiculous situations and hokey theme.
It’s a treat to see Bendix get a chance to carry a film himself, even if the material doesn’t live up to his talents.
Best Bit: The three-headed steer. (Don’t ask.)
Side Note: The uncredited actor playing Harry Shea, the catcher whose bobbled play is at the center of the rhubarb at the end of the film, is none other than Alan Hale Jr.
The Scoop: Stop me if you’ve heard this one before – a grizzled warrior must help a feisty princess escape from the clutches of an evil empire, with the help of a pair of bumbling accomplices who prove to be heroic in spite of themselves.
That’s the plot of Akira Kurosawa’s wonderful “The Hidden Fortress.” But throw in a naïve farm boy, an amoral smuggler and a Wookiee and you’ve got seed for Obi-Wan Kenobi’s rescue of Princess Leia from the Death Star in “Star Wars.” George Lucas has famously cited “The Hidden Fortress” as the inspiration for his first “Star Wars” story, from which the rest of his complicated universe sprang.
Besides the spine of the plot, several other details were borrowed by Lucas, especially the early scenes introducing bickering peasant buddies Tahei and Matakishi, which resurfaced in R2-D2 and C-3PO’s adventures on Tatooine.
But while it’s fun to play “spot the inspiration,” it’s a mistake to judge “The Hidden Fortress” solely in the light of “Star Wars.” It’s another rousing samurai adventure from Kurosawa that more than stands on its own.
Toshiro Mifune is incredible as always as Makabe, the wise, battle weary general who must protect tomboyish teenage Princess Yuki (Misa Uehara) and her kingdom’s stash of gold, then smuggle them to safety in neighboring Hayawaka. Their native land of Azikuzi has been overrun by armies from Yamana, but once in Hayakawa, Yuki will be able to use the told to rebuild her army and take back her lands.
They find their ticket out with appearance of Tahei (Minoru Chiaki) and Matakishi (Kamatari Fujiwara), who just want to escape from the war and return to their homes in Hayakawa. Thanks to their unwitting assistance, the foursome is able to stay one step ahead of the pursuing Yamana soldiers, but not without plenty of hardship and comic relief on the way.
This isn’t Kurosawa’s best samurai epic, nor is it one of the first that springs to mind when thinking about his classics – but don’t consider that an insult. “The Hidden Fortress” easily stands alongside the likes of “The Seven Samurai,” “Yojimbo” or “Rashomon.” But if it doesn’t quite reach their heights, it’s still better than most other action/adventure fare from lesser directors. Kurosawa was one of the masters of cinema; we’d expect nothing less from him.
Best Bit: The escape on horseback.
Side Note: It wouldn't be a Kurosawa samurai classic without Mifune -- the two made 16 films together in a 17 year stretch from 1948 to 1965.
Companion Viewing: "Star Wars – Episode IV: A New Hope" (1977) and "The Seven Samurai" (1954).
The Scoop: So why waste your time on this? What’s the point of bothering with a made-for-cable, third generation live action adaptation of a hack cartoon, which is squarely aimed at tweens? Really, why bother?
Well, it turns out that this disposable entertainment has a thing or two to recommend it.
A Cartoon Network original, “The Mystery Begins” is the third live action version of “Scooby Doo,” following two big budget big screen stinkers. It’s a prequel, telling the story of how the gang got together at Coolsville High School and solved their first mystery together.
Unadoptable shelter dog Scooby (voiced by Frank Welker) accidentally gets sprung from his cage and runs off in search of someone who’ll take him in. He wanders through a cemetery at night, where he sees two ghosts rising from their graves. In a panic, he runs right through the basement bedroom window of high school burnout Shaggy (Nick Palatas) who naturally takes a liking to him and tries to sneak him into school the next day in human clothes. This winds up causing a free-for-all in the school bus, which eventually lands Shaggy in detention with football team captain Fred (Robbie Amell), drama club diva Daphne (Kate Melton) and brainy geek Velma (Hayley Kiyoko). Of course, the ghosts pick that exact time to disrupt the school pep rally, and the chase is on.
The “mystery” is just as paper-thin as you’d expect, both from a “Scooby Doo” story and a tween movie. But it’s the small, fresh details that keep this from being a complete waste.
Most intriguing is the dynamic between the four kids which -- not only because it grows out of detention hall, but also because of the way it develops the relationships between members of four different high school social cliques – owes a big debt to “The Breakfast Club.” It’s actually hand led quite well for tween fluff, and the cast nails it with gusto. This is where the real story is, not in the formulaic ghost hunting shenanigans.
The interesting upshot of this is that it makes the title character almost entirely irrelevant in his own movie. Unfortunately, director Brian Levant and writers Daniel Altiere and Steven Altiere try to compensate for this by making Scooby completely obnoxious, thrusting him into all sorts of situations where he isn’t needed, and making him the vehicle of lots of sophomoric, unfunny humor. That’s all bad enough, but to top it all off, the CGI work on Scooby is atrocious.
There are also some obligatory details, like the origins of the Mystery Machine (which is pretty much what you’d expect) and Scooby Snacks (which is actually a nice little twist. And Shaggy’s status as a flat-out stoner is hinted at even more strongly than before (but because this is still ostensibly children’s entertainment, he still can’t be shown for what he really is).
However, some entertaining new wrinkles are added. Like the fact that Shaggy is a few years older than the others and, thanks to being held back in school so much, is basically an adult still attending high school. Or the casting of Velma as an Asian.
However the biggest departure from the “Scooby” mythos is that the ghosts are actual undead spirits, and not mere mechanical tricks. But don’t feel too disoriented – the villain behind those vengeful spirits is straight out of the Hanna-Barbera playbook and even gets to deliver the signature “meddling kids” line after his capture. Because there are some classics you just don’t want to mess with.
Best Bit: The gang's ridiculously over-the-top undercover disguises -- Daphne as a goth, Fred in hip hop gear (think Brian Austin Green), Velma as a hot chick, and Shaggy and Scooby as trash cans.
Side Note: Welker is a veteran cartoon voice actor who has been working steadily since the 1960s. His roles include most of the Decepticons in the original "Transformers" series and numerous roles in "Tiny Toon Adventures" and "Animaniacs" -- not to mention playing Fred in the original "Scooby Doo" series.
Companion Viewing: The original Hanna Barbera cartoons from the early 1970s.
The Scoop:
