A Frank Review of "D.C. Cab" (1983)

The Short Version? Dirty cabbies rock the capitol.
What Is It? Ensemble Comedy.
Who's In It? Only the worst 70s/80s TV personalities.
Should I See It? No.



I remember watching this movie as a kid at a dollar cinema in 1984. The opening "Star Wars" riffing trawl and the spooky night sequence drew me right in, until the comedy stylings of Charlie Barnett completely sold me. Further, this was the inspirational story of a Vietnam vet and his dead buddy's son turning around a bottom-feeding cab company. How could you lose with such a fantastic ensemble of luminaries like Max "Wojo" Gail, Mr. T., Paul Rodriguez, Whitman "Grady" Mayo, Bill Maher, and the Barbarian Brothers?

In 1984 with an idiot kid, you couldn't. In 2009? Big, big loss.

Written by a Joel Schumacher early in his direcing career and likely trying to recapture the magic of Carwash, D.C. Can is a monstrosity. A painfully young Adam Baldwin headlined the weak thread of a main story, while oversized TV and comedy club entertainers were expected to ad-lib their way to a funny movie. That expectation does not pan out, resulting instead in relentlessly obnoxious mugging for the camera. Falling back on the most tired of formulas, the movie drifts from one random episode into another until wrapping things up with everyone banding together to save our imperiled hero. There's lots of cursing, and an obligatory nude scene, capping D.C. Cab as the epitome of bad 1980s distractions that masquerade as humor.

All in all, the flick isn't completely worthless. Gary Busey has some good bits, while a young Marsha "Roz" Warfield offers both a solid dramatic performance and *gasp* some sex appeal. Scream Queen Jill Schoelen at 19 should have guys my age panting, and the soundtrack is surprisingly good. The movie, while still garbage, doesn't so much stab you in the eye as lap lazily against you. If you can allow yourself to passively idle on the beach along the vast ocean of 80s mediocrity, you could discard a small piece of your life with this flick. Otherwise, it should be avoided at all costs.

Speaking of the soundtrack, Irene Cara makes a cameo, and offers a memorable tune over the closing credits, "The Dream (Hold On To Your Dream...)"

Emanuelle in America (Part 6, 1977)

Character Name: Emanuelle Rogers
Actress: Laura Gemser
Actual Movie Title: Emanuelle in America
Known Aliases: "Brutal Nights," "Black Emanuelle en Amérique"
Country of Origin: Italy
Character Nationality: U.S.A.
Character Age:
Occupation: Photographer (news, nudes)
Zodiac Sign: Gemini
Religion:
Married:
Locales: New York
Release Date: January 5, 1977 (Italy)
Director: Joe D'Amato
DVD: Emanuelle In America (1976)
Stats: Third Black Emanuelle, 2nd with Laura Gemser

Story: Emanuelle was taken to her publisher's offices by taxi (370 ??? St?,) where she began doing research. Her newspaper can be seen, called the Courier (perhaps the Queens Courier?) At the presses, she read about a missing prostitute believed to have fallen to a possible revenge killing. "Like hell. Hey Frankie! I'm convinced I saw her in that film." Emanuelle's editor asked if she was sure the seeming snuff film wasn't really just a porno, but like Italian authorities when this flick came out, she was sure "You can't get that kind of simulation from a professional actor." Frankie tried to warn her off such a dangerous story, but Emanuelle smiled confidently. "After all the things that have happened to me, I've always managed to come back." Frankie continued, "Hold on. As your friend, let me give you some good advise: Don't have anything to do with this story unless you're sure it's safe. As your editor, I can give you a name and an address: A guy called Ronnie. He lives down at the East River on a fishing boat. He's an ex-cop who got kicked out of the police department for accepting bribes and God knows what else. He knows everything there is to know about everybody, and he doesn't give interviews, so you'll have to have something to offer him. Alright?"

At the docks, Ronnie explained that not even the police could handle the snuff ring, as its backers were too powerful. Ronnie didn't have names, and was hot to bet on a horse. Emanuelle offered a 20-to-1 yield without even having to placing a bet, so Ronnie directed her to Washington, D.C...

In the capitol, Emanuelle began trailing a senator (Roger Browne,) spying on him with his family of a wife and three kids. Eventually, she "accidentally" dropped her drink off a lunch tray at a restaurant onto the Senator. Asking for a way to make up for her clumsiness, the Senator suggested Emanuelle be his company at his table. The pair hit it off, and continued their conversation into a park. Emanuelle buttered the Senator up, speaking of how attractive, intelligent, charming, patriotic and responsible he was. This prompted the Senator to launch into a speech. "Everybody in this country is so concerned about what the world thinks of us, when actually we should feel great pride in what we've achieved-- for this is the greatest country in the world... What about the young people of today? Their heads are stuffed full of crazy ideas and a lot of nonsense. What we really need right now is another war. Then they'd come back with their heads screwed on straight... and the ones that don't come back will have given some meaning to their lives-- sacrificing themselves for their country... It's a fantastic country."

Emanuelle kept up the sweet talk, claiming to be on vacation, so this important man jokingly demanded she follow him to his place to change the coat she ruined. One scene later, and Emanuelle was stripping naked in his bedroom. The make-out session commenced, where Emanuelle pressed for the Senator to produce something "far out-- forbidden." The Senator cued up a concealed reel-to-reel, which projected a grainy black and white ménage à trois. Emanuelle played cold fish, until she convinced the Senator to produce something "really strong." Careful what you wish for...

A topless girl with short, dark, curly hair and a bloody slash across her breast was punched. Dropping to her knees, she was forced to take her attacker's prick in hand. Cut to the girl being sodomized while bound over a rack. Cut to three girls with their hands tied with rope behind them, their backs flogged by soldiers. Cut to a brunette woman in a choke hold, her legs lifted and spread apart by another two militants, and a long, moored, barbed wooden phallus forced inside her. Cut to three women writhing on the floor as their clothes are forcefully pulled off. Cut to the brunette's gored vagina. Cut to a woman on the floor, hands behind her back. Blood flows from her nose, mouth, and torso as she's flogged. Pan to another woman's flayed back. Pan to another woman covered in blood as she's lifted from her bonds and flogged. A man's hand reaches for a large black metal hook on a line. Pan to a brutalized woman whose forehead, wrists, waist and knees are restrained by metal brackets, as the hook is inserted into her vagina. Cut to a man turning a crank to tighten the line. A soldier looks on while swigging a bottle, while another heats a rod in a brazier. Pan to a limp woman bound to a St. Andrew's cross molested by a sweaty militant. Pan to the sodomized woman, her arms increasing wrenched by another soldier cranking the rack. She is bound at the shoulders and small of back by metal rails. Cut to woman on barbed phallus hemorrhaging and slumping lifeless.

Emanuelle accepts the Senator's mouth against her body, as she focuses on taking covert snapshots of the film with her necklace camera. The sound of celluloid slapping signals the end of the ordeal. The Senator did not appear to have removed his short robe for fornication, but still declared the experience fantastic. Emanuelle agreed, claiming to have been turned-on by the awful images. Emanuelle "confessed" to being a closet masochist who fantasized about having such a cruel experience in real life. "It's the raw horror of it that excites me... Who knows where, or when, a normal middle class American girl like me could see things like that?" The Senator took this as consent to drug her drink. The Senator finally stripped and laid Emanuelle down, just as her eyes widened in confusion...

Visions of a private airplane trip with the Senator filled Emanuelle's mind. She saw herself in the back of a military jeep in the jungle, riding with the Senator and soldiers to a secluded base. Inside a house, the couple were led by a trooper to a wall with a shuttered viewing window. Once opened, what Emanuelle sees appears as another movie...

Film of various nude and beaten women led by a military troop. Cut to a large bestial phallus-funnel being forced into a girl's mouth. Cut to woman shackled to table with a broom handle in her bloodied vagina. Cut to steaming hot/molten liquid being poured into the funnel and down the victim's throat. Cut to near-dead woman bent over a table, the ribs of her flayed back exposed. Two soldiers hoist her up and place a bit in her mouth. She is then sodomized by one soldier as another tugs at her reins. Cut to woman on St. Andrew's cross, covered in blood, as her nipples are cut off in turn with a dull machete. Cut to flayed/sodomized woman as the force of the reins tears her cheeks open.

As Emanuelle and the Senator watched, he positioned himself behind her; lifting her skirt and tugging off her underwear. Emanuelle was in a drug-addled haze, transfixed by the deprivations playing out before her as she's taken from behind.

Emanuelle awoke from her nightmare, back in the Senator's bed. He explained that her vision was the result of a little powdered LSD, which Emanuelle had never tried before. Emanuelle claimed to be pleased by the trip, and promised she'd visit the Senator again whenever he wanted. The Senator kissed Emanuelle, saying, "We'll pick up tomorrow where we left off today."

Emanuelle returned to the New York offices of her employers, believing she had wasted her time on an acid trip. Perhaps that could explain why she now called her editor "Freddie." Regardless, the editor had an envelop full of "magnificent" developed black and white photos from Emanuelle's "dream." Emanuelle was pleased that her experienced happened after all, while her editor felt, "It's enough to make you puke. I'm not surprised you remember it as a nightmare. You're lucky you woke up." Emanuelle thought she had the scoop of the century, but her editor thought she should forget the whole thing. He explained that for the first time since he'd been with the paper, its owner had commanded him to kill a story. "No two ways about it, but don't worry... I'll put it in the archives, and at the first opportunity that comes along, I'll publish it. Alright?"

Emanuelle was livid. "Hey, wait a minute! I don't give a damn about the archives! Don't you realize I could have been killed? If we don't condemn these atrocities publicly, other girls are gonna get dragged into it, and we'll become accomplices to the whole filthy business!" Freddie wasn't any happier than Emanuelle, but even as she continued to plead with him, the matter was closed. Furious, Emanuelle proclaimed she wanted to blow the whole paper up, owners and editor included! Freddie told her to take a few days to calm down, but Emanuelle said she would take a week... month... year... five years... ten... "All my life if I feel like it!"

...to be concluded...

A Frank Review of "White Zombie" (1932)

The Short Version? Newlywed bride becomes zombie love slave.
What Is It? Horror.
Who's In It? Bela Lugosi.
Should I See It? No.

What we have here is an historic document: the first ever zombie movie, appearing a year after Lugosi's star turn as Dracula. The sets are grand, especially for an independent production. There's some potent use of superimposed images, the make-up effects are excellent, and the acting is solid. The music and lighting are well above par for the time.

All those accolades aside, watching the movie makes for a damned long hour and change. Unless Lugosi or a zombie is on screen, there is nothing particularly interesting to look at. The film is shot dark and dull, with perfunctory dialogue and a great deal of padding. Scenes start out creepy, then run so long that you become accustomed to the images, like staring at a Halloween mask until all you see is the rubber and glue. Lugosi's wry manner is droll, but also negates any tension generated from his diabolical appearance. A vulture emits a loud "scream" that begins to grate on the nerves by the third attempt at a jump scare. A slew of silly wipes reminds why the technique was relegated to home movies.

There are plenty of nice touches, though. I especially like the moment where Beaumont clutches the villain's hand like an elderly woman desperate to communicate with a dismissive grandchild. Still, you could edit the most worthy elements of the film to a 5-10 minute YouTube presentation and do the public a great service.

If you're interested, you can watch the entire feature below...

A Frank Review of "Across the Universe" (2007)

The Short Version? A Beatles movie without the Beatles, for the benefit of Mr. Jackson (Andrew or Michael)
What Is It? Musical.
Who's In It? Evan Rachel Wood and too many celebrity cameos.
Should I See It? No.



I was raised on Elvis, but by my late teens I'd seen "Help!" and "A Hard Day's Night," so I figured I was reasonably enlightened about the Beatles. Then one day, my estranged father cried, "What do you mean, you've never heard 'Bungalow Bill'?" A few mix tapes later, and my education had truly begun. This is why, like you, I'm appalled to hear my girlfriend tell how, a few song exempted, she hates the Beatles. I assure you good reader, I'm working on this grievous error in her judgment (she's foreign, you know,) and my visiting sister & brother-in-law seemed inclined to help. They excitedly recommended Julie Taymor's "Across the Universe," claiming that it recontextualized the Beatles catalog through a rock operatic narrative. Well, maybe not exactly in those words, but that's what they meant. You see, normal people don't use words like "recontextualized," and they get off on middling tripe. If you're reading these words, you're probably abnormal, and have better movies to waste over two hours on. For instance, "Hair" or "The Wall," or even "Grease," from which this flick steals liberally.

There's a lot to criticize here; the "on-the-nose" references, the barely existent characterization, the nonexistent story, the over reliance on hits over album cuts, the parade of pointless cameos... but the main source of irritation is the phoniness of it all. This is a Vietnam-era musical written by a pair a geriatrics (born: 1937) acted by kids too young to remember New Kids On The Block, with only the director being of a generation that should know better.Truth to tell, I'm about a generation removed from Taymor, and I still feel like I already lived through this version of the decade via other movies. The film doesn't represent history so much as regurgitate other features' nostalgic recollections. It seems to base/plagiarize its '60s on such unimpeachable sources as Forest Gump, old episodes of The Wonder Years and the worst of the 1980s flashback flicks to the hippie era. I hope Taymor lived the '60s, and was therefore too stoned to remember them, but I suspect she was instead a shut-in getting her information on love-ins from Walter Cronkite and Dragnet reruns.

The only thing lending this parade of cliche legitimacy is the Lennon/McCartney songbook, sung with all the verve of an Accura commercial. Jim Sturgess adequately channels the songwriters' spirit, but Evan Rachel Wood's vocals, while respectable, are ill-suited for the material. You've got characters with names like "Jude" and "Prudence," because someone has to have a reason to sing "Hey Jude" and "Dear Prudence." Never mind that Prudence only appears in a few scenes, offering a rare amusing variation on a standard and a heaping helping of political correctness (serving double duty as both "token Asian" and "lesbian." Never fear, there's a token black to peddle a limp Jimi Hendrix riff, while his girlfriend stands in for Janis Joplin (though her namesake track, "Sexy Sadie," doesn't seem to have been popular enough to make the cut.) Eddie Izzard offers an inspired turn as Mr. Kite, but to reach him you must cross over Bono's heinous East Coast accent and absolute butchering of "I Am The Walrus." Once again, Bono plays Dr. Robert, referencing a song that hasn't been licensed for a Microsoft commercial, so don't expect the actual tune.

That's the movie in a nutshell, actually. All the biggest, most familiar tunes; used in the most obvious ways, disregarding any deep meaning, with the expectation of the greatest commercial yield. It pretends idealism, but is really about as cynical, shallow, and opportunistic as you can get. If that's your take on the Beatles intentions with the material, they nailed it.

DC Challenge #5 (February, 1986)

• Outside Salem, MA, Dr. Fate saw chaos reigning on Earth, and sought to defend her.
• On Earth-S, their New York was also being invaded by aliens, as reported by Billy Batson for WHIZ Evening News. This looked like a job for Captain Marvel, but the magic word wouldn't work for Billy. Making his way to an abandoned subway station, Billy lit a mystic brazier to summon the wizard Shazam. However, the spirit was "dying," as magic was being sapped throughout the universe, and Shazam had no super powers to offer Billy.
• Back on Earth-1's New York City (or is it Metropolis? I'm confused,) the invaders prepared to publicly execute our alien heroes. Supergirl and Superman were helpless so long as a weird machine projected red sun radiation about them, so Jemm silently blasted it with his tikka jewel. "Good going, J'emm! Kara, what say we return the favor?" The Girl of Steel released the Son of Saturn, Manhunter from Mars and Starfire. Superman announced, "together, we'll show that these no-goods don't speak for all aliens!" The Maid of Might added, "When we're through with 'em, they'll be lucky to mumble!"
• In Los Angelas, Adam Blake meditated in his apartment, until Dr. Fate called for the return of Captain Comet.
• Adam Strange returned to Earth and an emergency equipment cache. However, Dr. Fate compelled Adam to miss his next zeta-beam to Rann, assuring him Alanna would be alright, and that his native world needed him more.
• "Meanwhile, the city of Metropolis plays unwilling host to the jackboots of an invading army... and finds itself liking the experience not at all!"
• "In a stately house overlooking that troubled town," Tabu argued for Peter Cannon to intercede. Peter initially protested, wishing to allow civilization to lie in its own bed, but his conscience got the better of him. Thunderbolt's "lithe figure in scarlet and blue" let out in a hurry.

• Dr. Fate could not take a direct hand against the "alien infestation," so the "Nile Necromancer" opened a temporal ankh that brought the Blackhawks to modern Metropolis. Even in World War II era planes, the Blackhawks were skilled enough to down several spaceships in a nighttime battle. Chop Chop grinned, "Good shootin', guys! We won't be able to tell their pilots from hamburger!" Once the Blackhawks were themselves shot down, they parachuted, guns in hand, back into combat.
• The aliens burned and trampled an American flag, invoking the wrath of Uncle Sam.
• In the city, aliens shot Thunderbolt with a "Pain Ray," but through force of will Peter Cannon fought through his agony. In the same area were Uncle Sam and the Blackhawks, all fighting the good fight. Then, a whole other batch of creatures drove by in a Daily Planet truck, delivering bundles of newspapers with the headline "Clark Kent Really Superman." Thunderbolt took this as just another bit of strangeness going around.
• Dr Fate flew to the Rock of Eternity. "Blessed Ohrmazd! Still the wizard lives!" The spectral Shazam knew Fate's master Nabu "eons agone," and hoped the Doctor could succeed him in death. "No, great one! A war is being waged, between out-worlders who wish to destroy all magic, and savage monsters who desire to master science! The former are the cause of your weakness! But I am come that you might have strength... strength enough to send your chosen one to battle at my side! Now rise!" The renewed Shazam felt "merely nine hundred!"
• Billy Batson was surrounded by aliens on Earth-S, so he used smoke bombs he'd found at the station, but still got himself shot with a ray gun. Before Billy could be finished off, Shazam's voice could be heard from the heavens, commanding the boy to speak his name. "A crash of magic lightning comes... changing Billy to mighty Captain Marvel," who made short work of the ground forces. The World's Mightiest Mortal then converted a highway tunnel into a giant butterfly net to capture their spaceships. Captain Marvel next flew to the Rock of Eternity, where he joined Dr. Fate for a trip to Rann.
• Adam Strange and Captain Comet teamed up to fight the aliens on Earth-1, until they were struck by a crimson beam. "The fabric in the curtain of reality abruptly frays, then reweaves, with the Man of Destiny and the Champion of Rann on the wrong side!" Landing in the Plane of Holes, the pair was greeted by Darwin Jones, Deadman and Bobo the Detective Chimp. Jimmy Olsen and Dr. Terrence Thirteen, Ghostbreaker were still unconscious when the Anti-Matter Man approached, threatening their destruction with the slightest touch. Warp-Holes that had surrounded the heroes vanished, as did the brief physical form of Deadman. Captain Comet couldn't control or even communicate with the threat through telepathy, and Adam's ray-gun was useless...
  
• Dr. Fate and Captain Marvel flew to the city of Ranagar, where Sardath and Alanna were among the citizens "caught in the middle of a conflict between the invading aliens and mystical demons!" The Big Red Cheese rightly figured he and Fate were perfect to fight the "magic-based no-goods," while the forces of Ranagar fended off the extraterrestrials. However, the demons chanted an incantation that opened a warp-hole to the Nether Plane. The tentacles of minor demon S'thulum seized the mystical heroes, who could not fight as it drug them through the hole, because S'thulum would devour their magical power...
• "If There's A Hole In Reality, Is Life A Cosmic Donut?/Thunderbolts And Lightning" was by Mike W. Barr, Dave Gibbons and Mark Farmer

1994 Marvel Comics Pepsi Prisma Cards

My girlfriend loved the super-hero trading cards while growing up in Mexico, and it's thanks to her I present these examples. Per Jeff Allender's House of Checklists, this is from the 9 card Mexican/Puerto Rican/Dominican Republican/Guatemalan set. Pictured are card #2: Punisher, #4: Gambit, #6: Ghost Rider and #8: Ciclope (Cyclops.)

Ruins (1995/2009)

Not to be all Johnny Cool and shit, but I burned out on Warren Ellis' shtick before he hit it big with Transmetropolitan. There's only so many variations on a politically aware John Constantine a man can stomach, after all. However, I will always respect Ellis for his mid-90s hat trick at Marvel: Druid, Carnage: Mindbomb, and Ruins. To this day, I can't believe any of these books came into print through a mainstream publisher.

Pissed that the gory and generally twisted Druid series had retroactively become a mini, Ellis had the title character get his prick stuck in the tree he was fucking until he was killed by the Son of Satan. Carnage lived up to its name, including near-male nudity and a guy eating an intestine in a hot dog bun while drinking a urine sample, all under a foil cover with CCA approval. Finally, there was the gloriously hateful Ruins, two prestige format editions with acetate covers representing the Anti-Marvels.

Marvels was the book that made stars of Kurt Busiek and Alex Ross; a fully-painted, photo-realistic, nostalgic walk through Marvel history from the Golden Age to the early '70s. Ruins was the piss-take, showing a more likely outcome from all those characters' radiation exposure. Cancer, mutilation, internment camps, cannibalism, repression, suicide, prostitution... all manner of bug-fuckery. I remember extolling the books' absence of virtues to customers when I had my shop, which meant I couldn't keep a copy of the title in stock for long. At something like 50,000 copies in print of the first issue, and far enough less of the second for it to sell for better than ten times its original price, this became quite the illicit collectible. Among my friends, offering a Triple H crotch chop while quoting President X's "You all came from this" was the put down de jure of 1998.

Reading Marvel's remarkably low priced (80 pages at the same price of a single issue 14 years ago,) I'm still amazed at how transgressive and effective the book remains today. The painted art of Terese and Cliff Nielson realizes Ellis' nightmarish, dystopic vision. At the same time, the paintings are often very rough and minimalist, so I'm surprised the final seventeen pages had to be turned over to the strikingly dissimilar Chris Moeller. Then again, there was an editor swap in between issues, Carl Potts was himself Editor In Chief for about 5 minutes, and I've heard rumors Ellis' ending was rewritten. After the Nielsons, Moeller's colors seem painfully garish, and his figures of too strong a constitution, but that shouldn't be seen as a criticism of the artists so much as the editors. Regardless, the last quarter remains appropriately bleak and vicious.

I refuse to spoil any more of the story, so let me just say the reprint of Ruins is the best deal in deviant comics today, and comes highly recommended for the stout-hearted.