Fightin' Smack In Tha Orphanage

That great 1970s hero, Black Dynamite, stops by the set of the beloved children's classic DING DONG ROAR to remind the kids to stay off drugs:



The brilliance of Michael Jai White and Scott Sanders' BLACK DYNAMITE never ends. I don't think this video showed up on the Blu-ray, dang it.

Laser Battle

The fifth Enforcer novel gets back to its pulp sci-fi roots of the first. In BIO BLITZ, released by Manor Books in 1975, Alex Jason battles swarms of killer insects that have been trained by his archenemy Lochner to attack through ultra-sonics.

Jason still works for "Big John"--the John Anryn Institute--as a security agent of sorts. He is also a clone, but his clone body can exist for only 90 days before he must be transferred into another. Author Andrew Sugar's Objectivist agenda is more pronounced in BIO BLITZ than in previous novels, and I have to admit that getting past the book's politics can be difficult.

Lochner, who has appeared in previous Enforcer novels, but eluded capture, plans to kidnap Big John's leader, the portly Mortimer Flack. His first try is clever, but somewhat of an effort. He sends a swarm of termites to chow down on Flack's summer home. When Flack and Jason arrive and go to Flack's third-floor observatory, their weight causes the entire house to collapse!

Both men manage to escape, killing Lochner's flunkies in the process (with laser pistols!), but the villain eventually gets Flack in his clutches. Jason's rescue attempt is pretty exciting, as he must battle thousands--maybe millions--of bugs on his path to Lochner's stronghold, including a horde of man-eating ants!

Only one more Enforcer novel remains in the series. Though each has its moments, I can't really recommend the series to anyone except the most hardcore men's adventure reader. Not just because of the extreme political slant, but the books also feel padded, and some have barely any action at all.

An Age Of Mystery And Magic

There once was a warrior named Kain, who was played by David Carradine, who played Caine on TV’s KUNG FU. On a strange desert planet with two suns, Kain entered a tiny village ruled by two opposing tyrants, Zeg (Luke Askew) and Balcaz (William Marin). Both sides claim ownership of the town’s only well. Why one of them doesn’t just dig his own hole someplace else, I don’t know.

The village peasants live only for the few drops of water provided them by whichever ruler controls the water that day. Kain thought this process was not very fair. Since he had seen YOJIMBO nine times, he decided to pit both sides against each other, hiring out his sword to both sides surreptitiously and plotting against them until all the bad guys were dead.

There was a sorceress too, that’s true, although she did precious little sorceressing. Her name was Naja (Maria Socas), and what she did best of all is walk around naked. Oh, my, was she naked. Really, her only job involved being naked, and she did that job very well. Rarely have I seen such majestic nudity for so little purpose. Not that I’m complaining, mind you.

THE WARRIOR AND THE SORCERESS, directed by John Broderick and released by New Horizons in 1984, runs about 80 minutes, which is what it has going for it the most. Carradine isn’t trying very hard, but he is having a good time. Of course, I imagine it’s hard to be miserable when you’re pretending to mow down 200 Argentinean stuntmen and extras while staring at Maria Socas’ luscious breasts all day. Thank Roger Corman for this pallid CONAN imitation that does manage to entertain on the simplest level.

A Clock Is Ticking, And the Hands Are Dripping Blood

WHITE WASH was the third and last of the Mr. Jury novels to be published during the 1980s. All three, including .357 VIGILANTE and MAKE THEM PAY, were written by Lee Goldberg while he was a sophomore at UCLA. I've never understood why the series was called .357 Vigilante, when the character is only called Mr. Jury in the books.

Goldberg is today a very popular novelist and screenwriter (he has recently combined the two jobs with a series of MONK novelizations), but as a college sophomore, he had already demonstrated a knack for telling a crackling action story in a lean manner (as a disclosure, I should mention that Lee and I are Facebook friends and have shared a few friendly emails). Unfortunately, 1985's WHITE WASH is the least of the three .357 Vigilante novels and appears to have been a rush job.

Not only are the story and characters not flushed out as well as they could have been (we never learn anything about the killer except his name), but at 151 pages (with larger-than-normal type), WHITE WASH is much shorter than the earlier books. The concept is a good one, and the sex and violence levels are appropriately gruesome.

Brett Macklin, who stalked and killed infinitely deserving bad guys in the first two books as the street vigilante Mr. Jury, is about to be publicly exposed by Jessica Mordente, a horrified newspaper reporter who learned his secret. She gives him three days to get his affairs together before going to the cops, during which time Macklin must clear his name by finding a racist Mr. Jury copycat killer that targets black people.

The murderer is unsurprisingly in the employ of Anton Damon, a wealthy white supremacist who is the subject of an article Jessica is writing. Goldberg, writing as Ian Ludlow, also creates a murderous Los Angeles mayor in a subplot that doesn't play too well.

The book's highlights are its action sequences, which work very well, even though some of the villains' motivations seem weak. When Macklin is introduced in the first chapter while tinkering with his new gadget-equipped 1959 Cadillac, I turned the pages in great anticipation waiting for him to use that sucker (which he does in a bloody scene that could have come right out of an Executioner novel).

I was surprised to read the announcement on the back page of KILLSTORM, which would have been the fourth .357 Vigilante novel, to be released in January 1986. I didn't recall a fourth book existing, and I was right. Pinnacle went under before KILLSTORM could be published.

The good news is that you and I can read it now. Twenty-five years later, Goldberg has released all four .357 Vigilante novels, including the long-lost KILLSTORM, as Kindle originals. You can learn more about them and find links to their Amazon pages here. I don't have a Kindle, but I have an iPad, and once I acquire the Kindle app from Apple, I look forward to finally reading KILLSTORM. I think the new covers are dull and lack the character of Pinnacle's paperback covers, but according to Goldberg, they have improved his books' sales, so I can't argue too vigorously.

Regeneration

UNIVERSAL SOLDIER: REGENERATION is the second "official" sequel to the 1992 hit UNIVERSAL SOLDIER and a highly anticipated reunion of that film's stars: action icons Jean-Claude Van Damme and Dolph Lundgren. Like all of their recent films, it went directly to home video, but probably deserved better treatment. Director John Hyams hired his father, the noted action director Peter Hyams (CAPRICORN ONE), who worked with Van Damme on TIMECOP, to be his cinematographer, which lends the low-budget production a high-budget sheen. It’s a good, not great, action movie held back by a limited budget and routine screenplay.

Like his dad, John shows a real flair for staging exciting action sequences, including a very nice opening car chase. Unfortunately, the stars we really want to see are only given glorified cameos (Dolph only worked five days on the project), leaving the bulk of the emoting to the incredibly stiff mixed martial artist Andrei Arlovski. It also means that the many fights and stunts, as well done as they are, have little dramatic weight, because they’re being performed by characters we don’t know or care about.

OG UniSol Luc Devereaux (Van Damme) is pressed into service to rescue the children of the Russian Prime Minister from terrorists who have hijacked the Chernobyl nuclear plant and threaten to blow it up. Their secret weapon is a badass new Universal Soldier, played by Arlovski, who is seen demolishing four other UniSols with his brutal fighting style. Lundgren’s turn as Luc’s archenemy Andrew Scott is short but definitely sweet.

The score and sound design are compatible with Hyams’ vision, and with a better script and more participation from its name stars, this UNIVERSAL SOLDIER sequel could really have been something.

This Fall, Daddy's Home

Dylan Walsh (NIP/TUCK) demonstrates that he’s no Terry O’Quinn in THE STEPFATHER, a limp remake of the 1987 film that did little box office, but became a cult favorite on cable and home video. Based on the true story of family murderer John List, the original STEPFATHER was a smart understated thriller with a corker of a complex performance by O’Quinn (LOST), who returned for a 1989 sequel. Under the direction of TV journeyman Nelson McCormick (who worked with Walsh on NIP/TUCK), the remake is routine boogeyman stuff.

The difference between the two films is evident from their opening scenes, in which the Stepfather cleans up, changes his appearance, and leaves his house after the off-screen murders of his family. Whereas Joseph Ruben, the director of the original, played the scene in a calm, understated fashion, echoing the cool sociopathy of the main character, McCormick adds whooshing camera tricks, “scary” music, and close-ups of the murdered children, which is much less interesting and respectful of its audience.

Now calling himself David Harris, the Stepfather finds a new family in Portland, Oregon with divorcee Susan (Sela Ward) and her three children. The two youngest take to David immediately, but the oldest is Michael (Penn Badgley), a high school senior home from military school, a supposed bad seed with a bad temper, but not played that way by Badgley (GOSSIP GIRL), who’s also too old to be convincing. He’s a bit suspicious of his new stepdad’s temper and the way he can’t keep the details of his backstory straight.

Scripter J.S. Cardone (SNIPER 3) apes the structure, but not the nuance of Donald E. Westlake’s original. Act Three really ramps up the stupid and adds an insulting coda. McCormick overdoes the horror clichés—the springloaded cat, the face in the mirror, a raging thunderstorm—making this STEPFATHER a technically polished but dramatically void affair. Amber Heard is Michael’s petulant girlfriend in a hilarious variety of bikinis. Paige Turco (THE AGENCY) and Sherri Stringfield (NYPD BLUE) are wasted as Susan’s sister and her partner. Also with Jon Tenney as Susan’s ex, Nancy Linehan Charles, Braeden LeMasters, Skyler Samuels, Jason Wiles, and Jesselyn Gilsig.

More On Robert Culp

Anyone interested in the life and career of the late Robert Culp, the I SPY star who passed away last month, should probably read Stephen Bowie's fine appreciation of the actor on his Classic TV History blog.

Meanwhile, if you're into junky movies, pay a visit to a new blog by Don Guarisco, Schlockmania, which covers spaghetti westerns, Roger Corman movies, and reviews of old FANGORIA issues, among other offerings.

Finally, you know I've been covering the tough, gritty, strange world of men's adventure novels here at Johnny LaRue's Crane Shot, but nothing on the "men's sweat" magazines that lined drug store and newsstand shelves during the 1950s, '60s, and '70s. I hope to review some eventually, but until then, pay some attention to the Men's Adventure Magazine blog.

A Boy Magician On A Fabulous Adventure

Roger Corman was at his laziest during the mid-1980s, when he appeared to recycle James Horner’s BATTLE BEYOND THE STARS and Christopher Young’s DEATHSTALKER scores and tons of stock footage into half the films he made. His Concorde Pictures was very busy churning out sword-and-sorcery quickies in the aftermath of CONAN THE BARBARIAN and THE BEASTMASTER, and the 1985 release WIZARDS OF THE LOST KINGDOM is packed with scenes ripped straight out of Corman’s DEATHSTALKER and SORCERESS. The stock footage isn’t even used well; it’s often just tossed in at random with narration poured over it to fill gaps in the narrative.

Like Corman's BARBARIAN QUEEN, WIZARDS OF THE LOST KINGDOM was shot in Argentina by native director Hector Olivera. The PG picture also aims at a family-friendly audience, which surely disappointed fans looking for the blood and boobs common to the genre. At least there’s plenty of unintentional humor to be found in its incompetence and hammy performances.

The plot by Ed Naha (TROLL), who wrote a book about Corman, finds evil sorcerer Shurka (soap actor Thom Christopher, just off the BUCK ROGERS TV series) conspiring with Queen Udea (luscious Barbara Stock, who moved from this to SPENSER: FOR HIRE) to bump off the King of Axholm and take his throne. Trying to stop him are young magician Simon (Vidal Peterson, the young star of SOMETHING WICKED THIS WAY COMES), whose father was also murdered by Shurka; his large white furry companion Gulfax (Edward Murrow wearing the silliest Chewbacca costume you’ve ever seen); and Kor the Conqueror, lazily played by Bo Svenson in an amusing lark of a performance.

Maria Socas, whose nude acting was the highlight of Corman’s lame THE WARRIOR AND THE SORCERESS, pops up just long enough to introduce clips from SORCERESS’ climax and turn into a woman-sized rubber insect. For sure, WIZARDS OF THE LOST KINGDOM moves. It may not make any sense, but it throws one clumsy action scene after another at the audience at a rapid clip. One of them has Svenson hacking up zombies, even though he was obviously never on the same set with them (nor is he present during the big climax—just close-ups of him on a black set waving a sword over his head). Another swordfight between Svenson and a giant uses no special effects; the camera is placed on the ground pointing up to make Svenson’s opponent look huge.

Given that Naha was probably assigned to write the screenplay around the stock footage, it’s no surprise that the story is illogical. The American stars, recognizing this, let their hair down and gave loose performances. Svenson even sings something like an Irish folk song during a battle with ghosts. Christopher camps it up big time, zapping his midget minions with poorly animated rays and turning soldiers into mice. WIZARDS OF THE LOST KINGDOM is terrible, but also one of the most entertaining Corman fantasies of the ‘80s. It also made some money, since the related-in-title-only WIZARDS OF THE LOST KINGDOM II followed four years later.

Scream (Not That One)

Stuntman Byron Quisenberry scraped together some bucks for two weeks of shooting at the Paramount ranch, and emerged with SCREAM, a somnabulent horror flick that may well surpass FINAL EXAM and THE FOREST as the most boring slasher movie ever made.

Quisenberry was the writer, director, and executive producer, but his best talent was hiring veteran character actors whose presence provides what entertainment value SCREAM has. Alvy Moore (GREEN ACRES), Pepper Martin (SUPERMAN II), Hank Worden (from a zillion westerns), Gregg Palmer (FROM HELL IT CAME), and badass Woody Strode (SPARTACUS) worked a couple of days for Quisenberry, but most are killed off too soon.

Rafters spending the night in a Texas ghost town are picked off one by one by an unseen killer who brandishes a bloody array of tools. Unfortunately, Quisenberry chose to depict most of the murders off camera, cheating viewers of any visceral thrills to make up for his slack pacing and confusing plotting. The killer may or may not be the ghost of a 19th century sea captain; even the Shriek Show DVD commentators are confused. You’d have to be a hardcore horror completist to want to try to figure it out.

Composer Joseph Conlan moved from this to SIMON & SIMON and other mainstream TV fare, and cinematographer Richard Pepin became one-half of PM Entertainment. I don’t know why Shriek Show bothered to release this on DVD. Commentators Marc Edward Heuck and (the unidentified) William Olsen struggle to find something to talk about with Quisenberry. Olsen argues with the director about story nitpicks, and Heuck amazingly compares SCREAM to Luis Buñuel. Aquarius released SCREAM in New York City in 1983 as THE OUTING, and Quisenberry says he made money on it. I'm not sure it was ever titled SCREAM until the VHS release. The young cast includes John Wayne’s youngest son Ethan.

Share The Ultimate Modern Adventure

Producer/writer/star Tony Anthony (an American star of several Italian westerns of the 1960s and 1970s, such as GET MEAN and THE SILENT STRANGER), producer/writer/co-star Gene Quintano (later to flirt with Hollywood filmmaking by directing NATIONAL LAMPOON’S LOADED WEAPON 1), and director Ferdinando Baldi (who helmed Anthony in BLINDMAN) teamed up with the Go Go Boys at Cannon (Menahem Golan and Yoram Globus) to create the world’s first (and only?) 3D ripoff of RAIDERS OF THE LOST ARK.

Baldi, Anthony, and Quintano, as well as co-screenwriter Lloyd Battista (another American actor who found success writing and appearing in European genre pictures), were just coming off a massive success: the spaghetti western COMIN’ AT YA!, the first mainstream 3D movie to play U.S. theaters in a long time. Made quickly and cheaply in Spain, COMIN’ AT YA!, fueled by an entertaining marketing campaign that emphasized stuff whizzing past the camera into the audience, grossed something like $12 million at the American box office in 1981, ensuring a nice payday for its makers and a followup for audiences.

Westerns were, of course, already passé by the time COMIN’ AT YA! came out, but the 3D gimmick was novel enough to draw a paying crowd. For the “sequel,” which came out barely a year later, Cannon (which was not involved with the 3D western) and company turned to the big hit RAIDERS for inspiration, cast the tight-lipped Anthony again as the wry hero, and returned to the Marks 3-Depix StereoSpace Converter 3D process (the SuperVision and WonderVision hoopla on the poster is pure hooey) to craft some cheap thrills.

Perhaps sensing that audiences’ excitement for 3D would be dead by the time they could make another movie, the filmmakers go all out to exploit the process as rarely seen before. If you can name it, Baldi probably throws it into the camera. Indeed, the 21-minute prologue is an all-out assault of phantasmagoric 3D mayhem pitting soldier of fortune J.T. Striker (Anthony) against a formidable array of snakes, spikes, skeletons, dogs, chasms, broken glass, buzzards, flaming boulders, and an exploding castle.

From the castle, Striker retrieves a key that opens four jeweled 6th-century crowns containing treasure. One is already destroyed before the movie opens, and one is in a museum. The two that Striker has to worry about are in the possession of a psycho cult leader named Brother Jonas (Emiliano Redondo), who holds them in his mountaintop compound protected by masked followers. To get the crowns, Striker assembles his madcap squad: alcoholic mountain climber Rick (co-writer Jerry Lazarus), circus strongman Socrates (Francisco Rabal), and Socrates’ daughter, acrobat Liz (Ana Obregon, still a sexy star in Spanish television).

A caper movie is essentially what TREASURE OF THE FOUR CROWNS is, and the center portion goes through the typical MISSION: IMPOSSIBLE standbys of assembling a team of specialists and mapping out a plan on a scale model of a heavily fortified enemy camp. We’re also introduced to Brother Jonas, who is said to be a regular old thug from Brooklyn, but is obviously from the Dr. Doom school of megalomaniacs (and so sketchily drawn that to call him the film’s antagonist is purely perfunctory).

I imagine the film was a real pip in 3D, but there’s still some kick to its 2D presentation, if only due to the silliness of all the stuff jammed into the camera lens. It isn’t a good movie by any real standard, but it’s an enthusiastic one and completely insane in the way so many Italian genre movies are. Take for example the climax, which doesn’t make a damn bit of sense, but involves flamethrowing gems, lasers, a revolving head, masked ninjas with machine guns, stained glass, the fakest-looking 3D serpent ever, and a melting face a la the end of RAIDERS. And that final shot…what the hell? And an Ennio Morricone score to match!

Despite (well, because of, really) the lunacy of its storyline and setpieces, TREASURE OF THE FOUR CROWNS failed to do anywhere near the same level of box office that COMIN’ AT YA! did, and the shortlived 3D craze was dead as well by the end of 1983. Tony Anthony never acted again, though he did produce a pair of action movies for Quintano to direct.

Test

Just testing. Move along. Nothing to see here today.




-- Post From My iPad

Location:Marigold Ln,Champaign,United States

Random Comic Book Splash Page: The Occult Files Of Dr. Spektor #18

Dr. Adam Spektor was one of the few original characters published by Gold Key to make any kind of lasting impact on readers. Created in 1972 by writer Don Glut and artist Dan Spiegle as a detective who investigated the supernatural (very much like Dr. Terry Thirteen over at DC Comics), Dr. Spektor premiered in the anthology MYSTERY COMICS DIGEST #5, but soon jumped to his own book, THE OCCULT FILES OF DR. SPEKTOR.

"Masque Macabre" was a full-length tale in the 18th issue of DR. SPEKTOR, penned by Glut (who wrote most if not all of Spektor's stories) and drawn by veteran Jesse Santos, who gave our bearded hero a foxy foe in this adventure set in Vermont--Spektor's Native American assistant Lakota!

While Spektor may have had its fans at the time, less than two years after this splash page was published, the character made his last appearance in GOLD KEY SPOTLIGHT #8 (probably an inventory story). THE OCCULT FILES OF DR. SPEKTOR had been canceled a couple of months earlier in 1977, and though the book produced one final issue five years later in 1982 (!), it was merely a reprint of #1. And Dr. Adam Spektor goes out with a whimper.

Gun The Man Down

John Wayne produced the 1956 western GUN THE MAN DOWN for his Batjac Productions. Filmed after GUNSMOKE’s first season on CBS, GUN THE MAN DOWN was the last feature film of James Arness’ career, one of the first for 25-year-old Angie Dickinson, who receives an “Introducing” credit, and the first for director Andrew V. McLaglen, who had been an assistant director on several Wayne films.

Arness plays Remington Anderson, one of three bandits who rob a bank, during which a teller is shot. He’s wounded and left behind by his partners Rankin (Robert Wilke) and Farley (Don Megowan), who also take his girlfriend Janice (Dickinson) as a hostage. After recovering and serving a one-year prison sentence, Rem sets out for revenge, finding his fellow crooks—and Janice, who’s now shaking up with Rankin—in a small town presided over by avuncular sheriff Morton (Emile Meyer).

Story and screenplay by Sam Freedle and Burt Kennedy, respectively, are standard B-western stuff. McLaglen shot quickly without much money (the town is bereft of extras) and without much action to punctuate the limp cat-and-mouse shenanigans. Arness shows little in terms of big-screen charisma, though one can’t deny he’s one of TV’s greatest leading men. Also with Michael Emmet, Pedro Gonzalez Gonzalez, and Harry Carey Jr. as the deputy. I think everyone in the movie except Meyer guest-starred on GUNSMOKE at least once, and McLaglen directed 96 episodes.

A Lollipop In My Glove Box

CITY OF THE LIVING DEAD, which was released in Europe in 1980, but not in the U.S. until 1983, is my first horror film directed by one of Quentin Tarantino's favorites, Lucio Fulci.

A priest commits suicide in Dunwich, Massachusetts at the same time psychic Mary Woodhouse (Catriona MacColl) is working a séance in New York City. It shocks her into a coma, but everyone thinks she’s dead, and she’s buried in a coffin. Cigar-chomping reporter Peter Bell (THE RAT PATROL star Christopher George, slumming big time), snooping around the graveyard, hears Mary pounding on the lid of her coffin and rescues her.

Believe it or not, being buried alive is not the worst thing that happens to Mary. When the priest killed himself, he opened the gates of Hell and caused the dead to rise from their graves and put Fulci’s special effects crew to gruesome work. A girl pukes up her innards and rips her boyfriend’s brains out of his skull, maggots are mashed in another girl’s face, and, in the most notorious scene, a drill penetrates the head of the town perv (Giovanni Lombardo Radice, who was often billed as John Morghen).

DAWN OF THE DEAD’s massive success in Europe made this and several other Italian gore films, many also directed by Lucio Fulci, inevitable. This one, at least, delivers the goods, and the special effects are as good as they are gory. Amazingly, George seems to be taking his only Italian horror film seriously, even with puffed rice masquerading as maggots glued to his face, and his performance is quite good.

Besides the special effects, there’s little reason to watch CITY OF THE LIVING DEAD, but seeing as they’re the film’s raison d'être, I guess that’s reason enough. To his credit, Fulci does more than just splash blood on the screen; he’s skilled at milking suspense.

Finally, A Book On Jack Hill

Jack Hill is one of America's most interesting and creative filmmakers, though it's likely you haven't heard of him unless you're into stuff titled THE BIG DOLL HOUSE and THE SWINGING CHEERLEADERS. Although Hill hasn't directed a film since 1982's SORCERESS (which was cut by producer Roger Corman against Hill's will and may be the least "Hill-like" of his features), Scottish writer Calum Waddell's McFarland book about the man, JACK HILL: THE EXPLOITATION AND BLAXPLOITATION MASTER, FILM BY FILM, will give you a fresh look at his career and tell you where you should begin investigating his work.

Hill directed sixteen features between 1964 and 1982 and wrote a few more. Waddell covers them all in great depth, aided by Q&A sessions with Hill himself, whose remarkable memory for detail and unassuming manner are well known to those who have enjoyed his DVD commentary tracks.

Many of us Hill fans are well aware of the often fascinating production histories behind his more prominent features like his Pam Grier films COFFY and FOXY BROWN and the Quentin Tarantino favorite SWITCHBLADE SISTERS, but the juicy stuff here covers Hill's earlier work co-directing four Mexican horror films starring Boris Karloff (the horror master's last work) and a West German nudie called ME, A GROUPIE.

Waddell does a very good job describing the films (without wallowing in lengthy plot synopsies), providing pertinent background information, and occasionally giving us the points of view of those who worked on the films, including Hill's producing partner (and one-time girlfriend) Jane Schaffer and actresses Judy Brown (THE BIG DOLL HOUSE) and Joanne Nail (SWITCHBLADE SISTERS), to name a few.

One niggling problem that runs through the book is Waddell's unease with the more politically incorrect material that runs through Hill's filmography. Drive-in pictures of the 1970s were usually filled with torture, rape, female nudity, and depraved violence. What made Hill such an interesting director is that he was able to integrate all these required ingredients (really, there's no way he would have been able to make these exploitation movies without including these elements), but add three-dimensional characters, political subtext, wit, style, and subversive humor. This is what made, for instance, pictures like THE BIG DOLL HOUSE and THE BIG BIRD CAGE stand out above most of the grimy women-in-prison films that quickly followed in the wake of Hill's success. Waddell appears to be quite uncomfortable with these exploitative elements, and there is an amusement factor to reading the author's apologetic questions to Hill about the rapes or bare breasts that populate his films and the director's responses along the lines of "No, I'm not ashamed of it" or "I abhor political correctness" or "Because I thought it was funny." Perhaps Waddell is too young to remember a time when trashy movies weren't afraid to be trashy.

These speedbumps aside, outside of Hill's DVD commentaries (of which he has done ten that I know), JACK HILL: THE EXPLOITATION AND BLAXPLOITATION MASTER, FILM BY FILM is the finest chronicle of the director's career that I know of and is highly recommended.

Happy Birthday, Leonard

The finest science officer in Starfleet turns 79 today! Where is that Buick Riviera today?

Culp On Cain’s Hundred

To remember Robert Culp, who passed away Wednesday at the age of 79, I watched two episodes of the shortlived TV series CAIN'S HUNDRED in which Culp guest-starred. More interesting is the fact that Culp also wrote one of them.

But first, a little information about CAIN'S HUNDRED. The NBC series debuted in the fall of 1961 with just one regular character: Nicholas Cain, played by actor Mark Richman (who later acted under the name Peter Mark Richman). Cain was a Syndicate attorney who decided to go straight after the murder of his fiancé. He joined the FBI as an agent, and dedicated himself to capturing America's top 100 mobsters.

Created by the bright Paul Monash, who later produced PEYTON PLACE and JUDD FOR THE DEFENSE before moving from television into motion pictures, CAIN'S HUNDRED was not successful. Much of the blame should fall on Richman, a dour leading man whose lack of humor and charisma extended to the rest of the show. The series contained little action, so if it's going to consist of white men standing around rooms and talking, it had better be good talk. It did draw terrific guest actors, such as Jack Klugman, Robert Duvall, Robert Blake, and David Janssen, and opened with a strong theme composed by Jerry Goldsmith, but it was just not a very good show.

It did, however, present Robert Culp with a screenwriting opportunity. At this point, he had only written one episode of TRACKDOWN, a one-season western in which Culp starred for Four Star Productions. The same year he appeared twice on CAIN'S HUNDRED, he also penned two teleplays for THE RIFLEMAN.

Culp's first appearance on CAIN'S HUNDRED was "The Plush Jungle," which aired January 2, 1962. It was written by Franklin Barton (later a producer of HAWAII FIVE-0) and directed by Alvin Ganzer.

Syndicate man Benjamin Riker (John Larch) sets his sights on Amalgamated World Transportation Company, which he believes will be perfect for his smuggling operations. To get the company, Riker sends his men (including Harry Dean Stanton) to strongarm Amalgamated's customers into taking their business elsewhere.

To help smooth the transition, Riker ingratiates himself with Amalgamated's vice president, Kurt Yoder (Culp in horm-rimmed glasses), who uses the opportunity to assert himself with his stern father Zales (Larry Gates), the president of Amalgamated. Culp is playing somewhat against type as a weak executive who is easily manipulated by the sinister Riker for his help in putting Riker's man on Amalgamated's board.

You'll notice I didn't mention Nicholas Cain in the previous synopsis. That's because he isn't much of a presence in the episode, and, in fact, may have less screen time than Culp does. Reportedly, the network and/or Paul Monash were becoming dissatisfied with Mark Richman's performance, and in some later episodes, Richman barely appears at all.

As for Culp, it's an interesting role that lets him play someone who isn't as confident as he usually played, but "The Plush Jungle" isn't terribly original or dramatically vivid. But his next CAIN'S HUNDRED segment gave him a juicier part.

Just three months after "The Plush Jungle," on April 3, 1962, Culp appeared in "The Swinger," for which he also provided the teleplay. Directed by Tom Gries, "The Swinger" stars Culp as nightclub singer Hank Shannon (who is unconvincingly doubled by Culp's friend Sammy Davis Jr., who also cameos). His old friend Nicholas Cain approaches Hank in Las Vegas to pump him for information about an upcoming summit of Syndicate men to be held at the home of Hank's friend Marcus Jackson (Bruce Gordon).

Now it's no surprise that Culp wrote a plum part for himself, but he also created a rich guest role for Gordon, who was famous at the time for playing Frank Nitti on THE UNTOUCHABLES. Jackson is another gangster, but one who has been beaten down by life, who has sacrificed his family obligations for the Mafia. Now, his wife is a vegetable in a hospital bed, and his 17-year-old daughter Lucinda (Zina Bethune, who would star on THE NURSES the following season), home from school for the holidays, despises him.

It's very strange to see Mark Richman relegated to third banana in his own series, but "The Swinger" is Culp's and Gordon's show all the way. Not only does Culp give himself plenty of the hip lingo he and Bill Cosby would sling around on I SPY, but he also gets to show off the fast draw he mastered on TRACKDOWN. Gries, later a two-time Emmy winner, lets the drama unfold in a lot of long takes. While, like "The Plush Jungle," there's no action, but a lot of talk, the dialogue is sharp and deep and sounds like it must have been fun for the actors.

Despite the creative success of "The Swinger," CAIN'S HUNDRED lasted only five more episodes. Richman went on to a long, successful career in television mostly, though occasionally in features; his tame spy flick AGENT FROM H.A.R.M. was mocked on MYSTERY SCIENCE THEATER 3000.

Robert Culp, of course, became a household name as the co-star of I SPY, an actor in dozens of films and television shows, and the star and director of the underrated crime drama HICKEY AND BOGGS, which sadly never received a DVD release during Culp's lifetime. While his CAIN'S HUNDRED appearances are pretty much forgotten today, at least one of them, "The Swinger," played an important part in Culp's career.

RIP, Robert Culp

The fine television and film actor Robert Culp has died at age 79, I'm sad to report.

Although Culp appeared in many films during his acting career of more than fifty years, it is television where he made his bones. Culp was a ubiquitous guest star on television dramas, most notably his three appearances on THE OUTER LIMITS, including the stunning "Demon With a Glass Hand," which was directed by Byron Haskin (WAR OF THE WORLDS) and written by Harlan Ellison. Almost as great as "Demon" is "Architects of Fear," in which Culp plays an American scientist who is transformed into a monster in order to fool the world's superpowers into coming together to fight a common enemy.

Culp was also a regular on the underrated western TRACKDOWN, the groundbreaking 1960s spy series I SPY, and the 1980s superhero takeoff THE GREATEST AMERICAN HERO. He also appeared several times on EVERYBODY LOVES RAYMOND as the father of Patricia Heaton's character.

In addition to acting, Culp was also an excellent screenwriter, penning episodes of THE RIFLEMAN, CAIN'S HUNDRED, TRACKDOWN, I SPY, and THE GREATEST AMERICAN HERO. For an excellent history of Culp's three-year run as the star of I SPY, track down (no pun intended) his audio commentaries on Image's I SPY DVDs, which are among the most detailed and candid histories of a television series I've encountered.

Culp also directed one film, and it's one of the best crime dramas ever made by a one-time director. 1972's HICKEY AND BOGGS reunited Culp with his I SPY co-star Bill Cosby as down-and-out private detectives looking for a missing girl and $400,000 from a botched bank robbery. It's a fascinating and downbeat story with terrific action sequences, including exciting shootouts in the L.A. Coliseum and the Dodger Stadium parking lot. It isn't easy to find today--it's never been released on VHS, DVD, or Blu-ray--but fans of the private eye genre should keep an eye out for HICKEY AND BOGGS. MGM HD has aired a very nice hi-def print of it.

For more on Robert Culp, see this post on THE GREATEST AMERICAN HERO, this post on his 1981 TV-movie KILLJOY, and this post on the I SPY novels.

A Murderer In A Million

Wrapping up my Chopper Cop reviews with the third and final book of the series. It also has the best title. Well, maybe the best title of all time: DYNAMITE MONSTER BOOGIE CONCERT.

It's actually an accurate title, as the book is set at a massive outdoor rock concert called Monster Boogie. Not only is it sure to be a dynamite show, but there's a strong indication some crazy bastard may actually try to dynamite it.

Our star is anti-establishment cop Terry Bunker, who, contrary to how he appears on Popular Library's covers, is a young, long-haired hippie and 'Nam vet who takes special cases for the California governor on his tricked-out motorcycle that boasts a shotgun strapped to its handlebars. Bunker is assigned to investigate threats against the upcoming Monster Boogie show from a crank who says he or she plans to blow the venue up.

Among the victims/suspects are a thinly veiled Grand Funk, an obvious Janis Joplin clone, and a Rolling Stones ripoff led by charismatic lead singer Paul Byrd. Writer Paul Ross (surely a house name created by Chopper Cop packager Lyle Kenyon Engle) throws in several action scenes and a little bit of sex; even Bunker gets into the act, spending the night before the concert inside a tent with a pair of curvy jailbait.

The book's best setpiece takes place after an unknown sniper busts into Bunker's place while he's making it with the Janis clone and tries to shoot him. The shooter escapes in a station wagon with a big head start, while Bunker leaps barefoot onto his chopper in pursuit. Ross' depiction of the hair-raising chase is one of the best car (or cycle) chases I've ever read, and I was cringing every time Bunker's bare foot slid across the asphalt.

This 1975 novel is a lively read. I don't know why Popular Library discontinued the series. They aren't groundbreaking books nor do they push any boundaries, but they're entertaining and refreshingly left-wing in their approach.

Happy Birthday, Bill

The greatest starship captain of all time is 79 today!