Thursday, June 10, 2010

The Great Hollywood Rape-Slaughter (1974)

Director: Charles Edward

Starring: Michael Plamondon as Steve Ford and more nobodys than you can shake a stick at!

More Info: IMDB

Plot: Film school grad, Steve Ford, wants to make it in Hollywood as a director. After hitting the pavement looking for work, his only option is a sleazy porno producer who takes him on to direct some skin flicks before he allows him to film his screenplay. Steve understands the sacrifice he must initially make but soon lives to regret it and confronts the producer to get his screenplay back and get out of his contract.

My Rating: 6.5/10

Would I watch it again? Oh, yeah. It wouldn't be the worst thing I've ever done

#13 on Dusk to Dawn Drive-In Trash-o-Rama Show Vol. 1 (part of the TRAILER TRASH PROJECT)

NOTE: The only poster images I could find were on a FANTASTIC blog called Temple of Schlock. Go check them out. It's groovy. I stop by there almost on a daily basis. If they're not cool with me using their shit, I'll take them down. Viva la Schlock!!!

The Credits roll...

So here's what you get in the first five minutes after the ominous credits...

Except for the wild, WTF folk singers showing up out of nowhere, you don't get an ounce of dialogue. It's when the lights come up you realize you've been watching a student film; Steve's student film. You know, one of those made-to-look-all-artsy-fartsy-namby-pamby-pastiches-of-all-kinds-of-whacky-shit-that-seems-really-fucking-pretentiously-artsy? Yeah, one of those.

Meet Steve, our hero!

So I'm guessing he graduates because the next thing we get is a montage (behind some crappy sombre ballad) where Steve (looking a lot like Carl Sagan hopped-up on reefer) goes to a lot of the major studios, coming out looking all sad and rejected. It's funny because this movie is so low budget, they probably secretly filmed Steve driving up to real studios as if they had permission. Well, it's at least plausible. I'd love to have a chat with anyone who made this picture 'cause I've got loads of questions.

Cut to a couple of cuties thumbing a ride on the corner of the local titty bar when two "film" producers pick them up. Hmmmm...On the way to the studio to try and rape, I mean seduce, them they talk about how they make movies and the girls can be in them. So that's how it's done.

Exhausted, Steve is at his apartment/office where his girl/secretary gives him a message that a Mr. Burns answered his ad in the local trade paper. The next morning has Steve meeting with Mr. Burns and his assistant/bodyguard. They watch a shit skin flick together and then we get some exposition.

Ahhhh! The hairy 70s!

As Burns pours himself a drink of what looks like water in an apple juice jug, he tells Steve about how he used to be young and full of dreams. Of how he started out making kiddie films and Disney came along and put him out of business. That he liked making movies so much, the only way he could continue was to make nudie films. Cue the bongos.

He convinces Steve that if he [Burns] has to be in this lousy low budget porno industry, he at least would like to make classy pictures. HAH!

"Mr. Burns, I'm not interested in making classy shit."

CLASSIC! And his mono-toned delivery makes it even better (and don't forget the bongo carrying on over the soundtrack).

Now Steve's justifying his new gig to the old lady. "Look, I need to start somewhere, Holly, and I don't see anyone else bidding for my services." Holly's not digging it. She's going to leave if he becomes a smut peddler. Goddamn prude! Gee whiz!

Cut to a greasy, presumably gay, director (Richard) trying to make a sex scene. If you've seen some bad 70s porn, this is worse. It's soooooo fucking funny.

"OK, start humping!"

He's behaving like he's literally filming the birth of christ or something. He's practically in orgasmic tears with his direction of "more tongue" and "kiss her tits". He's breathing heavier than the actors. Priceless.

Now it's time to record the breathing track. The noises they make are riotously funny. This pisses Richard off. What a diva director. I'm guessing this is what Otto Preminger would have been like if he made pornos.

Next it's a field trip for Mr. Burns and company to find some new talent at the nearby titty grinder.

Say, those look familiar. Of course! It's the lovely set we caught a glimpse of during the opening credits. Man this picture is DEEP! Bring it home, baby, bring it home!

Mr. Burns is really working that straw, man!

Well, Charlie shows up at the studio and we find that Steve is living there now. I guess Holly stayed true to her word. Charlie is a camera man buddy of Steve's who's about to be asked if he would shoot Steve's "movies". As dull as Steve's acting is (Michael Plamondo), he's got more range than Ben Stein.

Charlie agrees to the well-paying gig ($100 a day for 3 days) and together he and Steve go see Hammer (played rather amusingly well by J. Streck), the "talent" agent, to get some "talent". So through the book-o-talent we go, getting the skinny on each broad's strengths and weaknesses. Hammer's got this Jimmy Durante raspy voice thing going on that would work better if he were a little more free with his motions, hands and such. He moves a little bit but he doesn't really explore the space. What the fuck is wrong with me trying to give direction to this guy who can act circles around me. I'm an asshole.

Steve picks one out and takes her to the alley to check out the goods.

But wait! Steve's back in the sack with Holly! The fuck? I thought they were through? I guess not. Shit! Ya know what this picture needs right about now? Another montage...and with that same lame ass song from the first one. AHHHHHHHHHHHHHH! Ooh, goody.

Back at the studio...


What follows is really bad sex which amounts to the guy, Pete, rocking back and forth like he's the fucking Rainman of smut. "I'm an excellent lover!" Gwen's getting frustrated as all hell.

Here comes one of the best scenes of the picture. Steve takes a break and chats it up with another actress, Angel, who's busy woofing down some fried chicken. This chick, played by Nancy Woods, is the best actor of the bunch. She's got a great screen presence and loads of cuteness. She goes on about this and that for about three minutes, from laughing to almost crying. She's terrific!

Back to the kickin' bongo soundtrack and Mr. Burns tearin' up the rug with one of the girls. Why? Beats me.

We're back to more fuckin' with a drivin' rock beat!

Then we get Tom Petty oiling up the strap-on dildo on his chest while a writhing young beauty sensuously calls out for Super Ball (an alternate title for this film, btw). She finds her way wrapped around it.

Uh oh! Somebody's fucking around with that young girl Steve checked out in the alley. FIGHT! Later, Mr. Burns has a few harsh words with her on how he owns her and shit.

Steve is in hardcore pissed mode as he races to end his contract with Mr. Burns, while getting lots of footage of previous clips to let us know what he's thinking. He's back at the studio looking for his script and he comes across Mr. Burns getting a Lewinski with the record player cranking out some groovy Latin vocals.

Mr. Burns is livid and screams about how he's paid his dues and some punk-ass mother fucker like Steve can't talk to him like that. He's going to finish out his contract and that's that. Steve gets his ass handed to him between Mr. Burns and his assistant kicking the shit out of him.

Steve pulls himself along the floor to the door. Mr. Burns decides to toss him his script and tells him that he's made some changes.

Steve's taking a soul-searching walk on the beach when he comes across a bottle with some water in it. Surely this has some significance but I'm too ready to wrap this up to think of what it is. If you've got it figured out please let me know. I realize I'm giving this film much more credit than it probably deserves but, damnit, I really dig this picture.

Anyway, he empties the bottle onto the sand and cut to...

this Billy Jack lookin' dude who pulls up next to a motel on a motorcycle. What the deuce? This guy's an awfully good lookalike. The room he's about to enter is loaded with drugged-up hippies!

BOOM! BOOM! BOOM! Billy Jack shoots up the joint like a Manson family reunion!

"No more killing. Please, Billy, no more killing."

"Billy, I love you...Let's get married."

"You stupid sack of shit! You tell me one good reason why you should live. GODDAMNIT, TELL ME!"

"It was so good what we had one time together, Billy. We could have another baby."

"You mesmerizing asshole halucinating slut! You're so sick you got me sick!"

"You couldn't leave well enough alone. You had to screw around"

"Billy, I don't wanna die."

"You shoulda thought of that before, Susie...before you ripped my son outta ya!"

"I'm dead, Susie. Everybody's dead."

Billy then takes this half dead sumbitch and make him bang Susie.

BLAM-O! They're dead. NICE!!!

Cut to Billy and his dead ex on his bike. There's a pull back to reveal it's only a movie. So what the hell was all of that shit about? Beats me but it's entertaining as hell.

The advertising bills TGHRS as featuring Linda Ronstadt in her film debut but I haven't the foggiest where the hell she was. Some say despite all of that, she's not in it. I agree.

That 63 minutes of whacked-out fun has come to an end. The performances make the picture and elevate it far above what you normally get. It's very difficult to come by but (I got mine in a trade from this cat in Sweden many moons ago), if you're the kind of crazy cat that digs this kind of cinema, you'll be well-rewarded if you can find it!

No comments:

Post a Comment