Lust in Space (2005)

Directed by John Bacchus
Starring AJ Khan, Darian Caine, Alexia Moore, Jackie Stevens
Unrated
USA

"Are you Jamaican? Because you're Jamaican me crazy!"

This 'Lust in Space' is not to be confused with the 80's porn flick of the same starring Ron Jeremy and Lana Burner. I kinda doubt you would confuse them, because this one has even less plot than the assfuck movie. It's the fourth film in the epic "Erotic Witch" series, a never-ending jiggle-fest starring various Seduction Cinema contract girls and their taut nipples in a variety of loopy situations. This time around, it's the year 2069 (You saw that coming, didn't you?) and three vapid spacegirls (the exotic AJ Khan, vampish Darian Caine, and giant-titted newbie Alexia Moore) all poured into skin-tight silver "space" bikinis, travel back in time to thwart the deadly "erotic witch" plague. This long and traumatic journey back to 2005 mostly involves the girls lounging around in their spaceship, which appears to be somebody's kitchen, if their kitchen was made of cheese, and melted. Sometimes they lick each other's nipples, and AJ yells a lot. When they finally make it back to our time, they wander around somebody' s backyard in those groovy outfits for the rest of the movie.

At some point, newcomer Jackie Stevens shows up, and has a l-o-n-g softcore sex scene with some dude inside the spaceship, which is now a hallway covered in tinfoil. The scene is a bit on the tedious side, but Stevens possesses a real girl-next-door sexiness. She sorta resembles a young Lynda Carter, and given the right roles, would make a great b-movie starlet in the Claudia Jennings vein. In this one, however, she has almost zero to do, besides dry-hump. That's all anyone does, really. There's no subplot to speak of, but there's plenty of the usual dumb, drooling redneck gags to pad the time between the 15 minute long lesbo romps.

If you came to gawk, then this is clearly a winner, as it's pretty much wall-to-wall pseudo-sex from end to end. But if you're looking for story, or plot, or anything engaging, forget it. The promo blurb on the back cover is probably longer than the script was. Still, even with so little to do, the up-for-it cast occasionally shines, especially Darian and AJ, who are quite amusing as the clueless space-bimbos.

- Ken McIntyre

The Wild World of Batwoman (1966)

Directed by Jerry Warren
Starring Katherine Victor, Lucki Winn, Suzanne Lodge
Unrated
USA

"She a real wildcat. I'd like to belt her one."

Jerry Warren (RIP) was a 1940's actor who became a 1950's exploitation flick huckster. He directed a handful of monstery snoozers like The Incredible Petrified World (1957) and Teenage Zombies (1959), and scissored together Mexi-horror imports like Attack of the Mayan Mummy (1964). He made his most audacious move, however, with this goofy hunk of junk, a crass and witless attempt to cash on Adam West-y Batmania. The film starred Katherine Victor (RIP), a minor 50's scream queen who was already well into her forties when she donned the ill-fitting Batwoman leotard. Her "Bat Girls" were plucked right off the street when a fleabag strip club suddenly shut down, leaving a dozen exotic dancers with nowhere to shake their moneymakers. And so began the epic superhero spoof/crime caper/serial homage/incomprehensible mess known as The Wild World of Batwoman.

It should be noted that Miss Victor concocted her own outfit, a hideous jumble of lycra, fake fur, and feathers. As Batwoman, she is the head of a very screwy crime fighting operation, one manned entirely by zonked hippy chicks who may or may not also be vampires. One thing's for sure, they like to dance. There's easily half a dozen dance breaks in this film. Some of them also look like White Panther styled revolutionaries, but I have no proof of their political affiliations.

Anyway, nefarious supercreep Rat Fink (Richard Banks) has one of Batwoman's girls kidnapped by two of his well-dressed goons. They take her back to his secret lair where a mad scientist, Doctor Neon (George Mitchell, shooting for a German accent, but landing somewhere near Apu from the Simpsons) and his Igor-esque assistant Heathcliff (Lloyd Nelson, RIP) keep her locked in a cage and occasionally feed her "Happy pills" to keep her docile.

Mr Fink nabs the girl's two-way... um, bracelet... and uses it to tell Batwoman herself what's up. Seems he needs her expertise for some bullshit, and he plans on holding her girl until she helps him out. What can she do? She flaps on over to the hideout and drinks chocolate milk and eats cookies with the bad guys until Rat Fink gets on his videophone and gives her the full skinny. He wants her to steal an atomic hearing-aid prototype from the 'Ayjax' corporation so that he can listen in on every phone conversation in the world. Just then, the doc plops a goofball into BW's milk, but she's on to him and switches the glasses. He ends up dancing drunkenly around the room, which affords our heroine the chance to drop a few smoke bombs, grab her girl, and vamoose. She gives the Ajax corp a call to let 'em know about Fink's nefarious plot.

They send Flanagan (Steve Brodie, RIP), their legal guy, over to BW's hideout to sort shit out. I know, that sounds underwhelming, but that's what happens. When he gets there, Batwoman is randomly mashing the keys on an organ while her tranced-out batgirls sit in thrall. It's a real wigged-out scene, man. Dude tells her the implications of the Atomic Hearing Aid - something about Cobalt liquid and the end of privacy as we know it - so she agrees to guard the precious item for him. As it's in the vault at the Ajax Corp, she heads over there with her girls, all of them brandishing pistols and shotguns. It's a very Patty Hearst sort of scene.

Doctor Neon and Fink's henchmen show up wearing goofy press-on mustaches and hand the girls chicken salad sandwiches. Vault-guarding is hungry business, so they greedily accept the food and chomp away. Problem is, said sangwiches are laced with happy pills, so they promptly drop their guns and start frugging furiously to the go-go beat in their heads. The crooks make off with the hearing aid.

For some insane reason, Batwoman decides that they best way to find out where the hearing aid went is to hold a séance. Unfortunately, the spirit she contacts doesn't speak English, so that's not much help. BW's Plan B is to send the girls out to find the mussing earpiece, but they get distracted by a beach party.

Meanwhile goofy henchmanTiger (Mel Oshins) captures the same Batgirl from the beginning again and locks her back up. She convinces him to take her to her apartment so she can pick up some records and teach him how to dance properly. I know, but that's what happens. To get there, they have to go out through the backdoor - a cave filled with skeletons. It's also got monsters!*

Somehow or another (I'm pretty sure somebody's dog ate the script by this point), Rat Fink ends up capturing all the Batgirls and chaining them up in Neon's lab. He wants to breed them with Neon's monsters. Seems valid.

Alas, he is thwarted when Batwoman shows up with her raygun and frees the girls. She attempts to unmask Fink, but he has another trick up his sleeve - a "Body Divider". He clones half a dozen Rat Finks and they all run amuck in the lab.

So, how does it all end? Like a particularly retarded Scooby Doo episode, pretty much.

A very odd superhero spoof, this no-budget hodge-podge undid Jerry Warren when DC Comics decided to sue him over the unlicensed use of the "Bat Woman" name. Not surprisingly, DC won, forcing Warren to retitle the film the even more ridiculous She Was a Hippie Vampire. Warren went broke soon after, and didn't make another film until 1981's Frankenstein Island, which also starred Katherine Victor. Anyone who thinks Wild World of Batwoman is a bad movie should take a look at the truly wretched Frankenstein Island. WWOB is a sparkling gem in comparison. Mystery Science Theater dissected Batwoman in 1993, which boosted its stature significantly. They needn't have bothered, however. The movie already lampoons itself quite nicely.

One of the all-time great jawdroppers, The Wild World of Batwoman manages to be horrible and awesome at the same time. And it's way better than Catwoman (2004), too.

*Said monsters were borrowed from The Mole People (1956).

Clip: Wild World of Batwoman trailer!

- Ken McIntyre

Cheerleader Massacre (2003)

Directed by Jim Wynorski
Starring Charity Rahmer, Tamie Sheffield, Summer Williams, Lunk Johnson
Rated R
USA
“This pep squad has nothing to cheer about!”

Mcpherson (John Colton) is a ruthless, serial killing beast of a man running loose in the ‘woods up north’. Bodies are piling up in the campgrounds and the sheriff is on the hunt. Meanwhile, a group of jiggly 29-32 year old high school cheerleaders are getting picked off, Slumber Party Massacre style, in their own locker room. And if that’s not bad enough, they are headed - you guessed it -up North.

But first, an ass-first shower scene to get the juices flowing.

Written by longtime Wynorski cohort Lenny “Lunk Johnson” Juliano - AKA annoying reality show host/perv Cliff Probate from Bare Naked Survivor - and littered with Wynorski’s usual gang of booby girls, Cheerleader Massacre is theoretically the fourth film in the Slumber Party Massacre series. Hence, the SPM poster redux, and the opening locker room kill scene, which pays homage to Brinke Stevens’ similar demise in the 1982 original. Stevens even returns as her original character in a brief, witless cameo. However, there is no slumber party. You’d think that would be the first plot point you’d write in. Perhaps that’s why the title changed midstream from “Slumber Party Massacre IV” to “Cheerleader Massacre”. Of course, that title is a little misleading as well. The main characters are, theoretically, cheerleaders, but they don’t have uniforms, and they never actually perform any cheers.

But, you know, let’s not get bogged down in ephemera.

Detective Demarco (caustic Lusty Busty Babe-a-Que host Melissa Brasselle) peers at a Fresno map (fun fact: Cheerleader Massacre was actually shot in Alaska) and promises the chief that she’ll get her man by the end of the day. Meanwhile, busty hiker Debbie (Nikki Fritz, Bikini Drive-in, Evil Toons), still rocking an ‘87 era Walkman as she strolls the woods, gets a frantic phone call from her mother about the killer in her midst. Mom wants her to hoof it home the short way - via the rickety rope bridge. Against her better judgment, top-heavy Fritz does exactly that, but is undone by McPherson, who cuts the rope and sends her sailing to her death on the rocks below. This effect appears to have been achieved by tossing the camera off the bridge.
Buzzy (Juliano) has foolishly agreed to drive the cheerleader squad to their game up north. Clearly, his intentions are carnal - he figures if her plays this right, he can score with the fetching Coach Hendricks (knockout Tamie Sheffield, who is not only a former cheerleader, but attended Fresno State University - clearly, she was born for this role).

Unfortunately, his boner parry is put on hold when the van is stopped at a highway roadblock.. Seems there was a nasty accident, so he’ll have to find an alternate route. Luckily, he knows a shortcut - right through the woods, naturally.

There is a lot of police procedural bullshit in this movie. You should probably know that up front. Half of the movie is dudes in rented cop uniforms getting in and out of their cars. This is a shame, because there’s a whole van full of superhot girls (Charity Rahmer, April Flowers, Erin Byron, Summer Williams) who could be taking showers or lez-zing out, instead.
Speaking of which said van runs out of gas before the crew reaches the highway, forcing them to brave the cold and snow (Is Fresno in the arctic part of California?) on foot.

One of the rangers figures out that the murders at the high school and in the woods are all related. Basically, Mcpherson is responsible for every murder in California, including several of the cops who are chasing him around in the woods. He even steals a cop car. Holy smokes.

The ranger heads over to see Linda (Brinke Stevens), Mcpherson’s first victim from Slumber Party Massacre. She clearly died in that movie, but whatever. At least it affords us an opportunity to watch a five minute clip of the first film. Ah, remember production values? After the flashback, the ranger splits. Did we learn anything? No. Well, we learned that Brinke Stevens is pretty far away from her shower scenes days at this point. That’s about it.

Rahmer, Flowers: "So, we can't find a phone...but we did find some board games!"

So, the cheerleaders stumble upon sheriff Monty’s cabin. Monty is the one who caught Mcpherson in the first movie. He’s not the same actor, though. Neither is Mcpherson. Anyway, he’s not home when they get there, so they guzzle his booze and play Scrabble.

46 minutes in, Wynorski awards you for your patience with a glorious Tami Sheffield shower scene. It’s as if he knew that you were about to shut this drivel off to surf Tube 8. Jim Wynorski knows what he’s doing, man.

Slasher movie hijinks ensue. Former porn starlet Flowers has a pretty good sex scene and then a headless guy knocks on the door, prompting the girls to find whatever weapons they can and prepare for a battle to the death with the crazed killer from 1982.

You know the rest, right? No need to belabor the obvious. There’s a goofy twist and the inevitable sequel set-up.

Cheerleader Massacre is a slapdash slasher with no gore to speak of, bizarre seasonal changes from one scene to the next, no real connection to the films it’s supposed to be following up, and a look that suggests consumer grade camcorder. In other words, just another lost weekend in the wild, wild world of Jim Wynorski. Trash fiends will dig its junky flavors, Fritz's prat-falling, and Sheffield's breathtaking rack. Anyone expecting anything featured in the poster, however - chainsaws or cheerleaders or an actual massacre - are in for a disappointment. You’ll get over it, though.

Clip: Cheerleader Massacre trailer!

- Ken McIntyre

PS: Late breaking news: Cheerleader Massacre 2 will be out soon! And it's X-rated!

Poor White Trash (2001)

Directed by Michael Addis
Starring Sean Young, Jaime Pressly, Jason London, William Devane
Rated R
USA

“But mom, our lawyer was hammered!”
“Yeah, well, sober lawyers are out of our price range.”

Jaime Pressly is a unique actress. She is boner inducing and terrifying in equal handfuls, and she appears to play herself - pissed-off, sexually ferocious, chain-smoky - in nearly every role she takes on, from My Name is Earl's trailer park princess Joy to a host of snarly maneaters in B- flicks as diverse as the Jerry Springer-driven Ringmaster (1998), the horny college idiot-fest Tomcats (2001), and the Spade-d mullet-riot Adventures of Joe Dirt (2001). So far, she has shown virtually no real ability for Some would call this typecasting. I would call it authenticity. Suffice to say, just about anything she’s been in is worth seeking out, especially if you're big on hayseed floozies in skintight jeans with attitude problems. And who isn’t?

Jaime does not star in Poor White Trash, even though it sure does sound like something she’d star in. This is a bit misleading on the part of the filmmakers, since she is, after all, the focal point of the cover, staring out at you with hateful, glassy eyes, a cigarette between her fingers, a shotgun on her shoulders, and her taut belly glistening in the sun. There are tiny little figures behind her, but they seem insignificant. I mean, they are tiny, after all. The whole package looks like a non-stop barrage of Pressly-led redneck mayhem. However, Jaime’s only in like, 3 scenes, for a total of about 10 minutes of PWT’s running time. Bummer.

It’s ok, tho, because the movie still rocks. It’s a rip-off, but it’s a good one. Poor White Trash (not to be confused with the backwoods b-movie of the same name from 1957, or any of my relatives from the sticks) involves a frazzled MILF (Young), her dumb-ass teenage son, his buddy, their high school arch-nemesis (also mom’s boyfriend), a crooked lawyer (also buddy’s grandpa) and his slutty young wife (Pressly, also MILF boyfriend’s old girlfriend) and their ham-fisted, week-long crime-spree. It’s as incestuous as you might expect a movie called Poor White Trash to be, and it’s also a rollicking good time, with plenty of snarky laughs. The plot goes kinda like this:

Mike (Tony Denman) is a college-bound kid slumming around for one last hot lazy summer with his pal Lenny (Jacob Tierney). I dunno where they’re supposed to be, as they never really say, but it looks like it could be, uh, Kansas? Reno? (I’m from Boston, man, so I can’t really tell.) Anyway, one day the fellas are messing around at the convenience store, trying to score some brew, when they have a run-in with the counter guy, and end up blowing up his car. They get busted, and, to pay for legal fees, they decide to rob the local Mr. Snack. And since they are dumb-asses, their mom (and her youngstuff boyfriend) decide to help them out. However, there are several double-crossers in their ranks, and thusly, comic chaos reigns.

The best part of Poor White Trash is all the great snippets of dialogue peppered throughout the story. Grampa Ron Lake, the mall lawyer (the awesome William Devane), introduces his foxy new wife (Pressly) to grandson Lenny with a pleasant, “So, dickhead, what do you think of your grandma’s ass?” Lenny, in a moment of weakness, confesses his attraction to his best friend’s mom (Young), with “Linda, I think you’re hotter than donut grease.” Lake hears the whole sorry crime story in his office and shakes his head. “To be honest, my resolve to keep these two gorgeous young boys out of jail is…weak”. Stuff like that.


The script is just a rapid-fire series of Foghorn Leghorn-styled come-backs and put-downs, and ya gotta watch this one at least twice to catch ‘em all. Plot-wise, it’s piffle, but the lines are killer, Pressly - when she’s actually in the movie- is hot like a tin-trailer roof, the ageless Sean Young is manic and sexy, and Devane is super-cool. Oh, and it’s also got Danielle Harris, the little girl from the Halloween 4 and 5 (and Rob Zombie's Halloweens, all tramped-up as a Mr. Snack girl.

Although Poor White Trash is rated “R”, there’s very little in it to justify the rating, really. There’s no tits or blood to speak of, just lots of cussing, drawled-out in regionally unspecified hick-ese. Usually I’m not big on flicks that don’t deliver the grosseries, if ya know what I mean, but this ‘un managed to charm me anyway. If rural hipster hijinx and evil redneck chicks with shotguns sounds like a good time to you, then check out Poor White Trash for yourself. And I don’t mean your next-door neighbors.

- Ken McIntyre

Shock-O-Rama (2005)

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Monster of Camp Sunshine (1964)

Directed by Ferenc Leroget
Starring Deborah Spray, Sally Parfait, Harrison Pebbles
Unrated
USA

"The motion picture that follows is a fable. In it there are many nudists, but only one monster. In life, it is generally the other way around."

Marta and Claire are two mismatched roommates. Marta (Sally Parfait) is a nurse in a lab that experiments on mice and rats. Claire (Deborah Spray), on the other hand, is a full-of-herself model, a blowhard that says stuff like "Does it shock you, that I pose topless?" to couldn't-care-less photographer's assistants. One fateful day at work, Marta accidentally lets a white super-rat escape from his cage. He and a few of his buddies go berserk, and hop all over the jittery nurse. In her panic to get away from the rodents, she falls out the window, and ends up hanging by her fingers, several stories up, from the ledge. Luckily, a doctor, Harrison (James Gatsby), comes rushing in at the last moment to save her.

Clearly frazzled by the experience, Marta tries to relax at home. Claire can see her friend is at wits' end, so she schedules a quick vacation to their favorite spot - a nudist camp, Camp Sunshine.

Turns out that the prim and proper Marta is actually a long-time nudist, and recruited the formerly uptight Claire into her alternative lifestyle the year before. In fact, Claire owes her success as a model to Marta. Without her and Camp Sunshine, she would have never let go of her inhibitions.

We flash back to Claire's first visit to the camp. At first, she is too shy to frolic naked, but after fortifying her nerves with some cigarettes (there's a lot of smoking in this movie), she drops her towel and lets it all hang out. She feels pretty good about waltzing around starkers, but she is somewhat disturbed by the one non-nude member of the camp - a leering fatty named Hugo (Harrison Pebbles).

Susanna, who runs the camp, explains to Claire that Hugo is her dimwitted but harmless brother. The way he menacingly waves his shears around would suggest otherwise, but whatever. Susanna keeps him around to do gardening and maintenance work, and it's just better for everybody if he stays buttoned-up.

So, that was last year. Meanwhile, Marta runs into the Dr Harrison on the street. He explains to her that the incident in the lab was a million to one event. Seems as though the rats were exposed to an accidental chemical compound that made them aggressive. He assures her that said compound has been destroyed. And by "destroyed", he means he dumped a jar of the stuff into the harbor.

Naturally, the chemicals end up leaking into the lake at Camp Sunshine. Also naturally, this happens while dumb ol' Hugo is wading in the water, trying to spear fish with a stick. Thirsty, he sucks up a handful of water and starts screaming like a gorilla.

Unaware of the mayhem going down at Camp Sunshine, Claire and Marta prepare for their trip. Before they leave, Claire calls her photographer friend Ken and tells him that she'll model that 'topless bathing suit' he asked about. "After all," she says, "I am a nudist." He asks her to bring his timid secretary along with her. He thinks it might break her out of her shell. I think Ken just wants to see his secretary naked. Claire agrees. More the merrier, and all that.

The girls show up at Camp Sunshine (which, by the way, is just somebody's front yard) to find it abandoned. Marta wanders around looking for Susanna or some sign of life while Ken, Claire, and his prissy assistant set up camp. They get a hibachi going, and a topless Marta plays a zither. Susanna shows up and they all try to goad the secretary into stripping. She refuses and wanders off.

Meanwhile Hugo, who is now some sort of bewigged mutant, chomps on a cucumber while chained to the wall of a shed. Hearing voices, he struggles to break free of his bonds. Eventually, he snaps the chains and gets outside. He grabs an axe and trundles off into the woods.

Miss Non-nude, enjoying her solitude, finally feels good enough to peel off her clothes and go skinny dipping. Then she suns her naked flesh on the grass, while Hugo, axe in hand, looms in the background.

Susanna finds out that her brother has gotten loose, and tells Marta about the chemical spill. Marta smartly suggests they talk to a doctor, pronto. And so they do.
Marta calls Harrison and tells him what's up. Turns out he's just about finished with his antidote for the rats, so he takes a jug full of the stuff and hauls ass over to Camp Sunshine. Harrison also calls his army buddy to back him up.

Susanna and Marta decide not to tell the others about the monster, because they don't want to ruin the evening. Besides, it's Claire's birthday, so they have to throw her a little moonlit outdoor party. Unfortunately, as the curious silent film title tells us, "The monster invited himself" to the shindig, as well.

Hugo and his axe fuck the party up but good, but he has no idea what hell he's unleashed. In a finale too incredible to accurately describe, Hugo finds himself battling a gun toting guy in his underwear, naked women with banana cream pies, a paratrooper, mortar fire, and an entire army division. Despite this apocalyptic climax, everybody lives to frolic in the nude again. Well, except for Hugo. He gets turned into a rock.

Fun, dumb, and mostly incomprehensible, Camp Sunshine is low-grade 60's trash sure to please monster-nudie fans. And who doesn't like a good (or bad) monster nudie?

PS: The credits list the camerman/men as Motley Crue!

Clip: Monster of Camp Sunshine trailer!

Monster of Camp Sunshine is available from Something Weird Video.

- Ken McIntyre

Poison Sweethearts (2008)

Directed by Andrew and Lucas Campbell
Starring various Cleveland area vagrants
Unrated
USA

"Beautiful women. In this city, they are sweet candy in the eyes of sour men."

Couple of brothers cobble together a loose, hour-long anthology of women’s-revenge stories, shot, with great effort, to look like gritty 70’s exploitation fare, ala Thriller, Tenement, etc. Unfortunately, the stories ramble and never come to satisfying endings, the acting is mostly-miss, and the whole thing is too wobbly and ass-broke to really look like more than a trumped-up student film.

On the plus side, it does show you what a junky mess Cleveland can be on a bad day, and it does, occasionally, slip into moments of high weirdness (evil street-dancers?). Also, the bitchin’, bright-pink packaging is almost worth the price of admission alone. Basically, a great idea and a solid attempt, but the Brothers Campbell shot a bit too high and, like Icarus, melted.

The trouble with girls: Poison Sweethearts' trailer

- Ken McIntyre

Teeth (2007)

Directed by Mitchell Lichenstein
Starring Jess Weixler and her vagina
Rated R
USA

"Dentata."
"What?"
"It's Latin for teeth."

Dawn (Weixler) is the last American virgin. She’s a star speaker in her school’s weird celibacy club and thinks only pure thoughts. She’s also breathtakingly beautiful, in a fresh-faced, corn-fed sorta way, and so sexually ripe you can practically smell her pheromones through the movie screen. Obviously, something’s gotta give, and once she decides to get amorous with a deceptively harmless-seeming member of her Jesus-freak club, she finds out that her vagina is lined with razor sharp teeth that turn whatever is invading her personal girl-space into pulp. This is very bad news for all the men in her life, including her pervy gynecologist and her ass-fuck happy step-brother.

On the surface, Teeth seems like an 80’s gross-out horror-comedy in the Basket Case/Street Trash vein, but it’s actually much more subtle. Although it has more than its share of extremely graphic penis dismemberment, it’s a wickedly dark comedy, full of wry humor and just the right touch of social commentary.

The performances are pitch-perfect, especially Weixler, who exudes a wide-eyed innocence even after the third or fourth rape attempt. I don’t think there’s ever been a character as unlucky-in-love as our girl Dawn, and she shows considerable pluck in even the darkest circumstances. You will fall completely and totally in love with her by the time the film is over.

Which is bound to cause you considerable pain, given her condition.

Great stuff from first-time director Lichtenstein (son of painter Roy), who walks a thin line between John Waters and HG Lewis, without tipping too far over in either. Of course, you will probably never have sex again without demanding a full vaginal inspection, but that’s a small price to pay for art.

-Ken McIntyre