Bloodtide (1982)

AKA Demon Island
Directed by Richard Jeffries
Starring James Earl Jones, Deborah Shelton, Lydia Cornell, Martin Kove
Rated R
USA

"Get me a melon!"

There's probably a good backstory to this mish-mash of a movie. It lurches so radically from one genre to another that it positively reeks of studio tampering. My guess is that it was originally supposed to be directed by visionary Greek filmmaker Nico Mastorakis, writer/director of the legendarily misanthropic Island of Death (1975), but then James Earl Jones or somebody balked at the script - which was probably loaded with child sacrifice and goat-rape - and the studio quickly shuttled harmless TV movie everyman Richard Jeffries to clean up the ensuing holy mess. As it stands, Jeffries is credited at director and co-writer, but all the weirder bits look like the work of madman Nico. Too bad there's not more of them.

The patchwork story involves one Madeline Grice (Brunette stunner Deborah Shelton), an archeologist (?) of some stripe, who ventures to a tiny Greek island to study some religious artwork. The people of this tiny island community are a suspicious lot who routinely stage mock sacrifices to appease a vengeful undersea god, but Maddy manages to find an ally in a sympathetic nun, who helps her on her quest to find whatever artifacts she's looking for. When she finds the elusive religious icon painting she's been seeking, she notices that it's got another painting underneath it, and another under that, each successively alarming monster-on-girl image dating further and further back into the island's checkered past. So that's weird.

Equally weird is the presence of Frye (James Earl Jones), a belligerent, chauvinistic adventurer and treasure seeker, who is hoping to uncover a lost reservoir of gold. I think that's what he's doing there. At any rate, he spends most of his time eating melons, guzzling hooch, and banging his gorgeous blonde galpal/assistant, Barbara (Lydia Cornell, Too Close for Comfort). Madeline parties with them, but lately she's been getting increasingly spaced out.

Into this already unlikely mix wanders Maddy's brother Neil (blow-dried 80's beefcake (Martin Kove, Cagney and Lacey) and his wife Sherry (Mary Louise Weller, Animal House). Concerned about Madeline's silence, bro decides to pay his bookworm sister a visit to make sure she's ok. When he arrives, he finds her dazed and confused. When Sherry offers her a present of expensive perfume, she dumps the entire bottle out on her head, and she seems to have an unhealthy fixation with the strange multi-layered painting and it's undersea monster-sex implications.

Meanwhile, some of the locals have begun to go missing. The villagers suspect that all this outsider meddling has roused the island's ancient evil sea-demon, and now he's gleefully gobbling up whoever he can. Their fears are realized when a group of men - gathered to watch a topless Barbara jiggle on the beach - witness her being dragged under the water and viciously eviscerated.

If that's not bad enough, Madeline is determined to swim right into the clutches of the beast, presumably for mating purposes.

It's up to Neil and a constantly soused Frye to rescue Madeline, avenge Barbara, and rid this tiny island of the blood-mad monster. How will they do it? Dynamite, how else?

If you're wondering whether you actually get to see the monster or not, the answer is yeah, sort of.  In one shot, it looks like the cover of a Danzig record. In another, it's a fleshy underwater chicken. Clearly, it's only viewed briefly for a reason. Also, the fact that Frye neatly destroys the bird-frog-man-demon with one stick of TNT suggests that perhaps the villagers were just too lazy to do it themselves. I mean, this thing is no Creature from the Black Lagoon. It pretty much goes down without a fight.

Luckily, this movie isn't actually about the monster. If it was, we'd be in serious trouble. No, Bloodtide is mostly about hot chicks in bikinis and/or sweaty tank tops, booze, and James Earl Jones in a wet suit, acting like a complete fucking asshole. It's part monster flick, part thriller, part black comedy. It's senseless and messy and drags in places, but staring at Deb Shelton in full bloom is such is a treat that it's worth the odd moments of utter confusion and/or brain-draining boredom. As mentioned, if Nico was allowed to run riot with this one, we'd surely have another Island of Death on our hands - a film banned just about everywhere, and for good reason - but unfortunately, the end result is a skin n' gore-free romp with a 70's TV movie feel. Sensible types will find nothing of interest, but Bloodtide is well worth it for 80's b-queen oglers and anyone interested in poking at the skeletons in James Earl Jones' closet.



- Ken McIntyre

It's a Haunted Happenin' (2002)

Directed by Pat Bishow
Starring Shira Zimbeck, Karla Bruning, Ginette Marte, Tonye Briggs, Jaime Andrews
Rated G
USA

I always thought the concept of 'genius' had to be prefaced with an "Evil"- I mean, you never hear of a "Good Genius", right? Well, the rulebook may have to be amended, because director Pat Bishow exhibits many moments of brilliance-on-a-budget in It's a Haunted Happenin', but there's scant little evidence of evil going on. Proving that his previous spandex and Kung Fu epic Girls from HARM was no fluke, Haunted is just as funny, kinetic, and lovely to look at, and just as devoid of ham-fisted exploitation elements like sex, violence, and repeated, gratuitous use of the word "Motherfucker". Instead, it gives us sugar-sweet pop numbers performed by impossibly cute chicks and classic haunted house hijinks involving a mad scientist and his array of groovy ghoulies, including a hunchback, the mummy, and the ever-popular guy in a gorilla suit.

The madcap story involves hard pop chick trio the Soultanglers squaring off against treacle-toed rich girl crooners The Darlings to win the "Ghoul a Go Go" battle of the bands.

The winner gets to appear live on the show of the same name, a wildly popular Saturday morning chiller thriller show hosted by a vampire named Vlad, his Tor-like henchman, and the invisible man.

But first, they have to survive a night at Whitewood mansion, which may or may not be haunted. Even if it isn't, there's a mad scientist in the basement with aspirations for world domination by chemically concocted the world's greatest girl group. And that's just the thumbnail version.

There are also the misadventures of a girly she-spy, a musical beach party, a menacing ventriloquist dummy, and plenty of 60's pop culture references strewn about like confetti. If you're thinking the Monkees, then you're right. And if you're thinking 'Scooby Doo ending', you're even more right. And if you think that this sounds like as much fun as you can possibly have without tossing in bucketfuls of sin and skin, then you are totally down with Bishow's master plan.

Although all the girl rockers are suitably adorable, special mention must be given to Jaime Andrews, who plays Zera, the Soul Tanglers' bundle of nerves guitar player. In her Clash shirt and sweatbands, she's like a cross between Lucille Ball and Joan Jett, a screwball riot grrrl. Perpetually menaced by sinister ventriloquist dummies and rampaging gorillas, her shameless mugging and slapstick chase scenes are hysterical. She's a charmer, this one, with impeccable comic timing.

Check out a clip of Jaime below.

If I put this script in the hands of any other b-movie director I can think of, it'd turn out all wrong, full of lesbo romps and Lunachicks rip-offs and graphic beheadings; but Bishow is operating on a whole different, higher level, one that burrows right into the eternal ten year old within us all, and stays there. It's like a bowl of Frankenberry, an ice cream soda, a pile of funny books, a Press and Play record player stacked with girl group hits, and a Creature Feature marathon all wrapped up in one hopelessly optimistic package. I loved it. You will too, unless you're a creep. Completely mandatory viewing.

Clip: Yikes! Stuck in a cell!

- Ken McIntyre

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