Only now does it occur to me... NEVER SAY NEVER AGAIN

Only now does it occur to me...  that Sean Connery's James Bond once played an Atari/TRON/Missile Command-style video game (instead of baccarat, dear God!)

  

 against Austrian arthouse star Klaus Maria "MEPHISTO" Brandauer

 as Kim Basinger became increasingly turned on by the hilariously awkward, bizarre, and dorky display of uncoordinated (but extremely stern-faced!) button-mashing.

   

Oh, James, indeed!  Truly this is a Bond for the 80s.  No word yet on his high score on Q*bert.

Read More

Only now does it occur to me... MOTEL HELL

Only now does it occur to me...  that John Ratzenberger (a.k.a. "Cliff Clavin" from CHEERS) was once in a quasi-folk-punk band called "Ivan and the Terribles."

Ratzenberger's on the far right, madly air-drumming.

(Alas, this wasn't in real life, but instead only in a very, very brief sequence in MOTEL HELL, a fairly creative hillbilly horror flick that fuses together tropes from PSYCHO, TEXAS CHAINSAW MASSACRE, and, oddly enough, DAWN OF THE DEAD.)

Read More

Only now does it occur to me... THE FLY II

Only now does it occur to me...  that Eric Stolz may have been fired as Marty McFly, but eventually he did get to be "Martin the Fly."  It seems too weirdly specific to be mere coincidence.

By the sound of it, THE FLY II doesn't seem as if it would be a "good movie," and subsequently I'd avoided it for years, assuming the worst.  Now I'm prepared to say, without reservation, that THE FLY II is dad-blammed fantastic and one of the great sci-fi films of the 1980s.

The directorial debut of Chris Walas (one of the FX masters of 80s creature features– from GREMLINS to THE FLY to ENEMY MINE to ARACHNOPHOBIA to NAKED LUNCH), THE FLY II has a tremendous eye for visual detail and some of the finest practical effects I've ever seen.

We have spectacular makeup á la THE FLY and ENEMY MINE,

viscous ALIEN/THE THING-esque cocoon props,
 
 mind-blowing gore that nearly puts Tom Savini to shame,

and a titular creature whom history may well remember as one of the last great movie monsters before our fun was ruined by CGI.

 BZZZ

And since this isn't a full review, I'll share a few random observations:

#1.  There's a nice Cronenberg shoutout when a random Bartok security guard happens to be reading THE SHAPE OF RAGE, the first major scholarly study of the Cronenberg canon.
 

 #2.  An amusingly acerbic cameo appearance by John Getz ("Stathis," the quasi-villain and Goldblum rival from THE FLY 1).

He's the only FLY 1 cast member to officially return, though we do see Goldblum in some archival footage, a few clips of which were deleted scenes from the prior film.

#3.  A sensitive, pathos-filled lead performance from Eric Stoltz, who probably scored the gig based on his ability to deliver even when covered in makeup (MASK), but who in every sense transcends what you'd expect from a sequel to a remake of a sci-fi B-movie.

#4.  Also, it occurs to me that this may be the greatest accomplishment of Mick Garris, who wrote the story and co-authored the screenplay (with Frank Darabont, Jim Wheat, and Ken Wheat).  Though storywise it's closer to, say, a Spielberg flick rather than a Cronenberg one, it's a helluva lot of fun.  I've been ragging on Mr. Garris a lot lately (i.e., for DESPERATION and QUICKSILVER HIGHWAY), but hey– he brought us the finest CRITTERS sequel and the greatest (and only) sequel to Cronenberg's version of THE FLY.  Thanks, Mick!

–Sean Gill

Read More

Book Review: HALLOWEEN III SEASON OF THE WITCH: THE NOVELIZATION (1982, Dennis Etchison)

Stars:  3 of 5.
Length:  228 pages.
Publisher:  Jove Publications, NY.
Tag-line:  "The night no one comes home.  The new screen shocker by Jack Martin based on a screenplay by Tommy Lee Wallace– a John Carpenter /Debra Hill production."
Back cover blurb:   "Do you know where your kids are tonight?  The streets are quiet.  Dead quiet as the shadows lengthen and night falls.  It's Halloween.  Blood-chilling screams pierce the air.  Grinning skulls and grotesque shapes lurk in the gathering darkness.  It's Halloween.  The streets are filling with small cloaked figures.  They're just kids, right?  The doorbell rings and your flesh creeps.  But it's all in fun, isn't it?  No.  This Halloween is different.  It's the last one."

Happy Halloween, everyone–  Poor Man's Carpy continues!

Using the pseudonym of "Jack Martin," Dennis Etchison brings us another John Carpenter-related movie novelization (he also did THE FOG and HALLOWEEN II) that's better than it needs to be.  In lieu of retreading old ground, if you need a little background on Etchison and his other Carpy-related work, see my review of THE FOG: THE NOVELIZATION.  Also, if you're somehow unfamiliar with HALLOWEEN III: SEASON OF THE WITCH, allow me to fill you in:

After HALLOWEEN II, John Carpenter was getting sick of this Michael Myers guy, and envisioned the HALLOWEEN series as becoming a series of spooky flicks that merely shared the common holiday setting.  Therefore, he, HALLOWEEN co-creator Debra Hill, and crony Tommy Lee Wallace (who designed the original look for Michael Myers) teamed up to unfold the saga of an evil cult of killer-robot-manufacturing Irish people living in a small town in California who are hell-bent (literally!) on killing the children of America by way of rigged masks that will turn them into rotting piles of snakes and spiders. They are doing this so that people will take Halloween seriously again.  It leads to an absurdist, apocalyptic, INVASION OF THE BODY SNATCHERS-by-way-of-James Bond conclusion, and in its own way is one of the great, underrated horror films of the 1980s.

So what does HALLOWEEN III: THE NOVELIZATION bring to the table?  The language isn't quite as florid as in THE FOG, but it's a decently written palimpsest of the screenplay.  Let me give you the rundown– my ten favorite things about HALLOWEEN III: THE NOVELIZATION:

#1.  It begins with a Thomas Hardy quote.

 Remember him, possibly from English Lit?  JUDE THE OBSCURE, THE MAYOR OF CASTERBRIDGE, THE RETURN OF THE NATIVE, TESS OF THE D'URBERVILLES, etc., etc.?  So let me say that again:  the HALLOWEEN III: SEASON OF THE WITCH novelization begins with a quote by Thomas Hardy.

"If a way to the better there be, it lies in taking a full look at the worst."
–Thomas Hardy

Is that a prediction of HALLOWEEN: RESURRECTION?  Nyuck, nyuck, nyuck.  (Also, I'd like to see Carpy do "TESS OF THE COUPE DE VILLES!)

#2.  Attempts to recreate how annoying the "Halloween Countdown song" is.

Anyone who's seen HALLOWEEN III will never forget the "Eight more days to Halloween, Halloween, Halloween... eight more days to Halloween..." Silver Shamrock song, set to the theme of "London Bridge is Falling Down."  Etchison, obviously, makes it an integral part of the novel.

"The insistent refrain, chanted inanely to the tune of 'London Bridge is Falling Down,' was for a few moments everywhere, even cutting into speakers which were set to carry only a steady drone of Muzak around the clock throughout the hospital and, it had seemed to Challis lately, the entire world.  But tonight he was feeling no pain.  '...SIL-VER SHAMROCK!'  At last the advertising jingle wound down, followed immediately by Madison Avenue's idea of an Irish jig."

#3.  Michael Myers fake-out.

Etchison knows that some readers of HALLOWEEN III: THE NOVELIZATION (specifically those who haven't seen the film yet) are going to expect to read about Michael Myers.  Instead of being up front with his audience about Myers' exclusion, he tries to fake them out for the first fifty or so pages.   I find this to be hilarious.

In a marked reference to "The Shape" being Myers' name from the credits to the first film, Etchison tries to fool us while he describes one of the Irish robots:

"It was not a bush that was moving.  It was the shape of a man.  ...He veered to the curb and cut his lights.  The shape was no longer there."

Furthermore, he specifically references the tag-line of the first film by naming the first section "The Night He Came Home Again." As you read on, you realize that this actually refers to "Challis" (the Tom Atkins character).  Additionally, the opening murder (which takes place less than five minutes into the movie) doesn't occur until 53 pages in to this thing!  It almost seems designed to piss people off.  I heartily approve, and find it well-deserving of a slow clap.

 #4.  Challis' (Tom Atkins') alcoholism.

In THE FOG: THE NOVELIZATION, Etchison fills in a few gaps in regard to character development, particularly with Father Malone (Hal Holbrook), the tortured whisky priest.  Here, since Challis is the clear protagonist, Etchison's focus is not divided (THE FOG has an array of protagonists– you could even make the argument that the fog itself is the main character!) and he's free to explore his brooding and alcoholism in great detail.  We see a fair amount of it in the movie, but in the novelization, Etchison describes it quite well, alternating between grotesque Bukowskian flourish,  Raymond Carver-ish straightforwardness, and Amis-style panache.

"'Agnes, tell me you've got a beer stashed somewhere with my name on it.  You were just about to say that, weren't you?  I can tell.  My mouth feels like a bedpan.'"

"He was strangling the glass neck through the twisted brown paper." 

"The day after the funeral he had bourbon for breakfast."  

"He poured beer down his throat.  It tasted bitter, but he knew it would make him feel better in a few minutes."  

"Beneath the wide brimmed hat was an old face, covered with stubble and deeply creased from too many years out of doors and out of luck.  The expression in the eyes was rat-shrewd.  It was a look Challis had seen all his life, in bus depots and skid-row clinics in every city he had worked.  The face was no more than forty years old by the calendar.  But they had been forty long, hard years." 

And perhaps one of my all-time favorite sleazy 1982 sentences:

"Ellie's maroon Cutlass was waiting at the curb in front of the liquor store."

#5.  These sentiments extend to Challis' brooding, which is wonderfully bitter and even more enjoyable if you properly imagine it as Tom Atkins' internal monologue.

"Kids, he thought.  They don't forget– they're too young– and so they don't forgive.  They're the only truly uncivilized beings left on earth, a race apart, a primitive tribe and a law unto themselves."

"The evasions are over.  I thought I could get away.  But I couldn't.  Happy Halloween, he told himself, gunning the motor and roaring away from the house, his house, the house he had built and would continue to maintain forever, undoubtedly even unto death and beyond the grave, if his ex-wife and the lawyers had their way.  Trick or treat?  ...He knew the answer, and would never ask the question again."

#6. Big Ideas.

Etchison tries to work some Big Ideas into this mass market paperback...  and sort of succeeds!  He hammers the point home that men are becoming like machines, that our humanity is being lost as our society becomes increasingly mechanized and detached.  These have become stock ideas and it's nearly impossible to express them without hammering the reader over the head, but dammit– Etchison hammers 'em well:

"They survive, he thought, the slow and the stubborn, the old individualist misfit sons of pioneers who won't allow themselves to be folded, stapled, or spindled.  The revolutions come and go, nations are torn apart and rebuilt, the climate changes to make way for the next millennium; the snow on the wheel turns and the century ices.  Men like machines walk on the moon and machines like men remake the world in their own image; the iron dream rears its head again in a new age; the old tribes fade from sight in the long night of the human soul."

I never thought I would read about "the long night of the human soul" in any movie novelization, much less that of a much-loathed horror sequel written under a pseudonym.  Will wonders never cease?


#7.  A FOG reference?

Apparently Father Malone survived THE FOG and relocated to Santa Mira?

"A signboard reading 'Church of St. Patrick/Rev. Father Tom Malone' was hanging peeled and broken from one upright."

#8.  A Jamie Lee Curtis reference.

The robotic, Big Brother-ish voice which lords over the evil Irish town of Santa Mira is played in the movie by an uncredited Jamie Lee Curtis.  She even gets a shout-out in the novelization:

"'Going down,' said a sensuous female voice."

#9.  The book can also function as a robot-killing manual.

"The graysuit outside her room went into a sputtering death-dance at the first surprising thrust to its soft spot.  The same spot, where the diaphragm would be in a human being, an inch or two below the center of the ribcage.  Challis remembered well his latest anatomy lesson."

#10.  The closing lines of apocalyptic brilliance:

"'STOP IT!  STOP IT! STOP...'  Then there was only the sound of the rain outside in the endless blackness of the long night and, presently, the rising tones of a pitiful wailing within and without, spreading across the station, the town, and the land without end."

Simply fantastic.  That about wraps it up, ladies and gentlemen. Again,  Happy Halloween– and stay tuned:  Poor Man's Carpy shall continue through November!

–Sean Gill

Read More

Book Review: THE FOG: THE NOVELIZATION (1980, Dennis Etchison)

Stars:  3.7 of 5.
Length:  180 pages.
Publisher:  Bantam Books, NY.
Tag-line:  "The terror filled novel– based on a motion picture written by John Carpenter and Debra Hill."
Back cover blurb:  "Before the light of dawn, you will know the vengeful fury of the dead.  Tonight the fog that rises off the California coast is different.  And deadly.  A writhing icy mist pulsing with terror.  It is too late to escape.  Even now the people of Antonio Bay are cut off, engulfed.  Along darkened streets, death searches them out.  There is no sanctuary for the living.  Those who are doomed will die horribly.  Those who are spared will suffer the endless fear of a soul-chilling night when the dead, finally, return for revenge.  THE FOG: NOW A MAJOR RELEASE FROM AVCO EMBASSY PICTURES."

Now here's some real Carpy marginalia– the novelization of THE FOG!  Longtime readers will note that THE FOG is one my all-time favorite horror movies, and I did a write-up about it a few years back which you can read here.  (Others will note that I was even so moved by THE FOG that I wrote a three-part series of John Carpenter fanfiction entitled "Carpy & the Cap'n" which chronicles the fictitious attempts to combine a CAPTAIN RON sequel with a spin-off of THE FOG.)

Anyway, as to the novelization:  surprise, surprise– it's basically the movie.  But amid its cheap and yellowed pages there's some nice ghostly atmosphere, the clear influence of writers like Ray Bradbury and M.R. James, and some fine horror nostalgia for fans of Young Adult lit in the 1980s.

A little background:  from page one, you can tell that Dennis Etchison is a higher caliber of writer than those who usually pen these sorts of trashy mass-market rush-jobs.  His C.V. is of interest, too:  he  was the President of the American Horror Writers' association in the early 90s, wrote an un-produced adaptation of THE MIST in the early 80s, was Stephen King's film consultant on the nonfiction DANSE MACABRE, and was a staff writer on TV's THE HITCHHIKER (you can read a rundown of my love/hate relationship with that particular series here).   Later, under the pseudonym of Jack Martin, he wrote the novelizations for HALLOWEEN II, HALLOWEEN III: SEASON OF THE WITCH, and VIDEODROME, one of which will be the subject of a forthcoming review.

Now, without further ado, my Top Six favorite moments from the paperback novelization of THE FOG:

#1.  The opening lines:

     "The moon rose over the bay, round and burnished as a golden doubloon.  It hung there high above the black waters, breaking the even waves with yellow tips and tinting the flat sand and the beach houses and the jagged trees behind them with a faint, ghostly pallor, a reflection of its polished, uneven face."

Etchison really sets the stage– evocative, ornate, maybe even a little overblown.  But that's good.  He's not a hack, and this isn't simply a paycheck for him.  Right off the bat, he's letting us know that he intends to take the novelization of THE FOG very, very seriously.  And I wouldn't have it any other way.

#2.  Father Malone (Hal Holbrook in the movie)'s alcoholism: 

     "Ought to put the wine away, he supposed.  But why bother?  The boy had smelled it on his breath enough times.  ...He turned slowly and gave the boy a sleepy smile, rotating the stem of the crystal wine glass in his fingers." 

and his self-condemnation:

     "His robes flowed open, rustling over the uneven stones as the material filled with dank air and blossomed around his thin body.  From time to time his bare heels caught and tripped on the hem, but he took no notice of the tearing of the vestment as he drifted on, circling the pews beneath darkling stained glass, doomed to visit, again and again, without end, the stations of his dispensation."

Malone's soul, racked with guilt over the misdeeds of his ancestors, has become that classical archetype of the "whisky priest."   This is what movie novelizations are all about– the writer has to fill his paragraphs with something extra– so why not explore in depth what is mostly alluded to in the movie?


#3.  Evocative prose.

     "He marched across the sand, packed smooth again during the night, the red float at the end of his fishing line swinging in the sky in front of him like a brave winking eye, leading the way. ...  Already his cheeks were burning as the breeze combed his hair back with a fine spray from the riptide.  Far down the beach at the cusp of the bay, a big dog, an Irish setter or golden retriever, pawed for sand crabs and then broke into a loping run at the gulls that were sunning themselves at the waterline, kicking up a muddy trail and then dashing for safety, his legs splaying wildly and his pink tongue flying, as the water washed in to fill his footprints with clear bubbles."

The seaside has always impelled writers to employ poetic language, and Dennis Etchison is no exception.  And though it's not quite worthy of William Faulkner, that closing sentence up there is pretty damn lengthy for a movie-based paperback, intended to be disposable reading for people on summer vacation!


#4.  That stomach-pounder reference!

As I explained in-depth in my review of HALLOWEEN 6, a throwaway line in THE FOG has led to much debate about what, exactly, a "stomach-pounder" is.
Here, is that section from the novel, replicated in all of it's glory:

     "'Mom, can I go get a Stomach Pounder and a Coke?'
How quickly they change gears, she thought.  Exit the wood to the junk pile, enter the Golden Arches.  'After lunch.  Did you eat your breakfast?'
     "Yeah.  I'm gonna go look for another one [piece of driftwood -SG].    Maybe this time I can get the gold coin!'
     He jumped off the bed and raced out of the bedroom."

Well, now it certainly looks like the person who theorized it meant "Quarter Pounder from McDonald's" was right, given the reference to the "Golden Arches."  But again this raises the question– why would he get a Quarter Pounder after lunch?  Perhaps we will never know. 

#5.  Added material.

There's not a whole lot here that's not in the movie, but, for example, Stevie (Adrienne Barbeau) notices a crucified starfish on her property; we spend a lot more time with Dan O'Bannon (Charles Cyphers) and his daily routine, which involves a daredevil coastal drive to the weather station; and Andy (Ty Mitchell, who plays Adrienne Barbeau's son) has an extended dream sequence with evil pirates, Davy Jones, and a giant manta ray ("...the remains of the great pirate Davy Jones himself.  An electric eel was slithering alive inside the empty skull, lighting the eyesockets with a blinding florescence.  A host of plankton jetted by, tinging the water around Andy with a glow like Greek fire.")


#6.  Like the movie, it leaves plenty to the imagination.

The violence is muted and atmospheric, remaining true to Carpenter's vision.  From the death of Mrs. Kobritz:

"Had he looked back over his shoulder one last time to argue, he would have seen a tall shape solidifying behind Mrs. Kobritz, a stringy black hand reaching around her head from the outside, closing at her chin, covering her mouth so that she could not scream, and lifting her as if she were a rag doll straight up into the air, leaving her empty shoes toppling on the welcome mat." 

And so there you have it.  THE FOG: THE NOVELIZATION.  Not an essential work of literature by any means, but far better than it needed to be! 

–Sean Gill

Read More

Music Review: GOBLIN LIVE IN CONCERT (2013, U.S.)

As a part of their first-ever North American tour (after a long and on-again-off-again history dating back to 1972), I was lucky enough to see Goblin perform live last night at the Music Hall of Williamsburg in Brooklyn, NY.  

They played crowd-pleasing selections from the album ROLLER and from their soundtracks to ZOMBI (DAWN OF THE DEAD), PROFONDO ROSSO (DEEP RED), NON HO SONNO (SLEEPLESS), TENEBRE, and PHENOMENA, among others, often accompanied by gory mondo projections, including clips from DAWN OF THE DEAD and the Goblin-Argento oeuvre.

It was a pleasure to see three of the original members:  the legendary Claudio Simonetti (wearing a DANGER: DIABOLIK t-shirt),

Simonetti tinkles the ivories.  Photo by Greg Cristman, from the writeup at Brooklyn Vegan.

veteran Maurizio Guarini jammin' on the second keyboard, and virtuoso Massimo Morante (prog) rocking out (on his birthday, no less!) in tight leather pants, sunglasses, and a bandana that could hardly tame his frizzy, Italo-rocker 70s hair.

Massimo plays it loud. Photo by Greg Cristman, from the writeup at Brooklyn Vegan.

This was, obviously, outstanding.  (They were also joined by newer members, drummer Titta Tani and bassist Bruno Previtali.)

A near front-row view afforded me a glimpse of their tightly-knit, non-verbal shorthand, from which I get a sort of furtive satisfaction when I have the privilege of seeing it live from a band I love.  Their Italian-accented banter with the audience was endearing and fantastic ("Hello Brew-kleen!"), Claudio did the vox effects from TENEBRE live, and he dared the audience to do their best witchy whispering along with him on SUSPIRIA– in short, I had a big dopey grin on my face the entire time.

Also, I never thought I would see Claudio Simonetti and Massimo Morante sing "Happy Birthday to Me" and mock-drink from a giant cardboard cut-out of a bottle of Jim Beam while a crowd of Brooklynites roared in approval.  And, my Lord– they may be getting a bit long in the tooth, but as my ringing ears can attest, they played it loud.  What a show– and a fine start to my Halloween season!

Read More

Only now does it occur to me... PET SEMATARY

Only now does it occur to me...  that The Ramones were more deeply connected to PET SEMATARY than I previously imagined!

The Ramones don't wanna be buried in a Pet Sematary.

Most everybody knows that Ramones music ("Sheena is a Punk Rocker") plays during the infamous "Truck vs. John Hughes' Son" scene,

and that the Ramones jumped on the spectacular bandwagon of 80s horror/rock collaborations to record the end credits music "Pet Sematary" [thus joining Alice Cooper ("He's Back– The Man Behind the Mask" for FRIDAY THE 13TH PART VI), Dokken ("Dream Warriors" for NIGHTMARE ON ELM STREET PART III), W.A.S.P. ("Scream Until You Like It" for GHOULIES II), Mötley Crüe ("Shocker" for SHOCKER), The Dickies ("Killer Klowns" for KILLER KLOWNS FROM OUTER SPACE), and AC/DC ("Who Made Who" for MAXIMUM OVERDRIVE), among others!], but little did I know– until I finally read PET SEMATARY– that the Ramones are all over the book!

Page 54 sees a random radio appearance:  "Louis turned on the radio and dialed until he found the Ramones playing 'Rockaway Beach.' He turned it up and sang along– not well but with lusty enjoyment..."

Page 213 gives us one of Stephen King's famous rocker quotes:  "Hey-ho, let's go!     –The Ramones 

And starting on Page 232, "Hey-ho" becomes a typical Kingish recurring subliminal thought:  "What is it the Ramones say? Hey-ho, let's go!   He thought he wanted to laugh but there was no laugh in him..."  and so on– so clearly The Ramones were fated to be a part of the film!

As for the film itself– it's not nearly as good (or scary) as I remembered, and it pales in comparison to the book, which is one of King's more depressing efforts with a mean streak worthy of Richard Bachmann (that's a good thing!).  Furthermore, Fred "Herman Munster" Gwynne appears to be the only actual actor in the whole movie, and despite his best efforts he is outnumbered.

Herman Munster emotes.

And hey, look, it's a Stephen King cameo– always good for a chuckle!

King's big moment.

In closing, this would have made a kickass melancholy horror flick if it were directed by George A. Romero in the early 1980s.  Oh, well.

Read More

Only now does it occur to me... TEENAGE MUTANT NINJA TURTLES II: THE SECRET OF THE OOZE

Only now does it occur to me...  that legendary actor David Warner has rocked out to Vanilla Ice– and so hard!
 

 
 
 
 
I could begin to explain the chain of events whereupon decorated Shakespeare/serious actor (A MIDSUMMER NIGHT'S DREAM, THE FIXER, STRAW DOGS, THE BALLAD OF CABLE HOGUE, CROSS OF IRON) and genre superstar (THE OMEN, TRON, TIME BANDITS, MY BEST FRIEND IS A VAMPIRE, TWIN PEAKS, TIME AFTER TIME, BODY BAGS) David Warner ends up wearing a bow-tie and a lab coat to a Vanilla Ice concert and pumping his fist in all of its rock n' roll glory as the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles fight-dance some low-level villains–  but ya know what, I'm not going to! 

Read More

Film Review: TIGHTROPE (1984, Richard Tuggle)

Stars: 3.75 of 5.

Running Time: 114 minutes.

Notable Cast or Crew:  Clint Eastwood, Genevieve Bujold (DEAD RINGERS, OBSESSION), Dan Hedaya (COMMANDO, CHEERS, BLOOD SIMPLE), Allison Eastwood (BRONCO BILLY, MIDNIGHT IN THE GARDEN OF GOOD AND EVIL), Marco St. John (FRIDAY THE 13TH PART V: A NEW BEGINNING, MONSTER).  Written and directed by Richard Tuggle (writer of ESCAPE FROM ALCATRAZ, the Schwarzenegger-directed episode of TALES FROM THE CRYPT).

Tag-line: "A cop on the edge..."

Best one-liner:  "You want some honey?"  –"I don't eat sweets..."

Alrighty, folks– so we've taken THE BIG EASY and we've had a visit from THE PAPERBOY– so let's close out Crawdad-Lickin' Southern Fried Sleaze-O-Rama and walk the TIGHTROPE– whaddya say?

How about some production background?  TIGHTROPE is one of those rare Eastwood films from the last twenty-three years in which he acts, but doesn't direct.  It's in the illustrious company of CITY HEAT (1984, Richard Benjamin), THE DEAD POOL (1988, Buddy Van Horn),  PINK CADILLAC (1989, Buddy Van Horn), IN THE LINE OF FIRE (1993, Wolfgang Peterson), and TROUBLE WITH THE CURVE (2012, Robert Lorenz).  Tuggle apparently snagged this rare gig (his directorial debut) after impressing Clint with his screenplay for ESCAPE FROM ALCATRAZ, but rumors from the set persisted that Tuggle wasn't working at Clint's regular breakneck pace, so Clint himself supposedly directed large chunks of the film.

As to the movie itself, it's a post-CRUISING "kinky-detective" flick, starring Clint as Detective Wes Block, a crusty cop who's investigating Jack the Ripper-style murders across New Orleans' red-light district.  He's sort of kinky himself, though, and there's plenty of soul-searching and Hitchcockian parallels between the hunter and the hunted.

 Clint gets into some gentle tie strangle-bondage-play.

 It's a serious film, and it does succeed as a solid crime drama and character study.  Supposedly, Clint was getting a lot of Oscar buzz for his role (though ultimately, no nominations), even though he's basically playing a slightly more morally conflicted version of Dirty Harry.

Clint contemplates his daughter's Grover toy.  Note how he's got the same ole' elbow patches as DIRTY HARRY.

 Also, the film gets a lot of bonus points from me for having its main title in the font from BLADE RUNNER:

 and it's cast listed in the font from THE TERMINATOR:

 Uh, what?  (There's no science-fiction element to this film, whatsoever.)

Also, extra bonus points for hand-animated lightning strikes!

 It's like something out of the BRIDE OF FRANKENSTEIN!

Anyway, let's get into the nitty-gritty:  how does this all figure into Southern-Fried Sleaze-O-Rama?  Well, to be honest, even though it's set in New Orleans, it's not all that Southern.  Clint makes absolutely no attempt at an accent, and neither does most of the cast.  It does feature a lot of iconic NOLA architecture, and there's an obligatory scene in a Mardi Gras "giant head" warehouse (just like in everything else, from HARD TARGET to THE BIG EASY), so I'm still covered.  As to the Sleaze-O-Rama, I'm not even sure to begin.  So here's a bunch of stuff out of context!


Hey, look– drinks are only a buck seventy-five!

Clint tries his best to ignore the gyrating man in a thong.



Clint gets tender with man's best friend.



A prostitute with amazing eyeglasses uses a vibrator (no joke) on a disaffected Clint.  This truly is 50 SHADES OF EASTWOOD!


Is that the implied silhouette of Mason-Licksin'?  If it is, I'm three for three!



"What am I looking at, here?," you're probably wondering.  Well, somewhere in that pile of lubricated flesh there might be a Clint Eastwood buttcheek or two.  It's hard to tell, but the camera definitely pans up to reveal Clint and a prostitute, so he's there, somewhere. 


How many trashy things are happening in this picture?  I lost track at four, I think.


I can't even begin tell you what unspeakable acts are performed with this gigondous Mardi Gras Ronald Reagan head.


The less said about this, the better.



Gals in bikinis oil-wrestle as a midget referees the event for purposes of proper sportsmanship.  Clint watches, spellbound.


OH, COME ON!  Clowns weren't scary enough already?  You're giving me nightmares, TIGHTROPE.


OH MY GOD IT'S GOT A MEAT CLEAVER


 This is the kind of workplace context that Clarence Thomas could have only dreamed of.  And the guy on the right should totally be Ron Silver.

 
Hell, this movie is so sleazy, that Dan Hedaya plays a good guy!

 Anyway, all of this gives Clint ample opportunity to raise a judgmental eyebrow and scowl in disdain, which is pretty much why we watched the movie in the first place.
And that's just a sampling– this film is oozing with that kind of stuff.  The music is that seedy, burlesque hall blues with wailing saxophones and fluttering flutes as the wallpaper sweats glue and the men breathe heavy.  The atmosphere succeeds in painting a picture of New Orleans as a series of smoky, deserted streets where long legs in high heels are stalked by cajun-spicin' Jack-the-Rippers!  (Or is that Jacks-the-Ripper?)

 

The co-star and love interest in Genevieve Bujold, a tremendous actress with a healthy sleaze pedigree herself (De Palma's OBSESSION, Cronenberg's DEAD RINGERS).  She plays a rape counselor who Clint meets and begins to romance in the midst of his investigation  Here, she's pictured teaching a class on how to kick rapists in the nuts:

It's difficult to tell if this is being played for laughs, or if it's meant as a genuine public service announcement.  The scene only becomes more spectacular when she introduces a ball-swat-training ROBOT into the regimen.  (Inappropriate, comic appearances of robots were truly a hallmark of the 1980s.  I'm looking at you, ROCKY IV.)
 
Bujold lands a spirited blast to its (tennis) balls:
 
Prompting it's eyes to light up and it's cardboard tongue to emerge:

 Which causes Clint, standing in the back of the classroom, to wince in empathy:

Then, one of the balls rolls over to him, and he catches it:
 
 Prompting a goofy, schoolboy smile:
 
Well played, Clint.  (And I must say, it's hard work being the web's leading authority on brutal ball-squeezing.  What began as a bit of snark has resulted in hundreds of google-search-hits a month, and presumably a lot of disappointed fetishists!)

There's also a wonderful double-spit-take scene that demands to be addressed.  First, Clint takes a hearty sip of his soda (the necessary set-up for any great spit-take):

Then, his youngest daughter drops a bomb:

 

Which prompts a fountain of soda and astonishment:

  
Clint's eldest daughter (played by real-life daughter, Allison Eastwood) gets in on the fun, as well:

 And finally, Clint marvels that he succeeded in pulling off a bona-fide father/daughter double-spit-take:
 
 Personally, I'm impressed, too.

So the film continues as an elaborate cat-and-mouse between Clint and the killer that gets increasingly personal– first, the murderer begins targeting prostitutes whom Clint had previously frequented, and finally he starts going after Clint's family.  This leads Clint deeper and deeper into the seedy underbelly of the Crescent City.
Clint is propositioned by a gay prostitute who offers some "honey"– Clint squints, and growls that he doesn't eat sweets:

Later, a random leather daddy offers:


"Looking for something... Alice?"


So then, Clint meets with a person of interest in the nerd section:

seriously, though– the guy on the right has a DOCTOR WHO t-shirt, and in the background appears to be Q*BERT'S QUEST, a rare and spectacular pinball adaptation of the video game!

Anywho, Clint meets with the hustler and tries to glean some information, but the guy doesn't know much, and keeps flirtin' away, wondering how Clint knows he's not gay if he hasn't tried it:
 
Clint retorts with the incredibly unexpected: "Maybe I have."

That's sort of subversive for a Clint film, and it may be, I daresay, the 51st shade of Eastwood?

Finally, Clint gets to show off some of his acting chops in a dramatic scene of self-reflection which I have entitled, "Clint Gets Mad at a Bed and His Dog Disapproves":

In closing, TIGHTROPE is not quite a hidden "gem" in the Eastwood catalog, but it's an unusually perverse mainstream police procedural with some solid melodrama and a few taut suspense sequences.   If we follow the whole "Eastwood vs. Bronson" rivalry to its logical conclusion, perhaps this is the reason Bronson made a sleazy-underbelly cop-on-the-edge movie of his own a few years later, with KINJITE: FORBIDDEN SUBJECTS?  Who knows.

This draws the "Crawdad-Lickin' Southern-Fried Sleaze-O-Rama" series to a close (though I certainly wouldn't rule out future installments).  I hope you've enjoyed the trip– so it's time to cork up the Southern Comfort, stick the leftover jambalaya in a tupperware, and start moppin' up the sweat (and everything else)!

–Sean Gill

Read More