All posts by Rod Lott

Spaceship Earth (2020)

In 1991, in the appropriately named Arizona city of Oracle, eight people thought they were stepping into a massive vivarium for a two-year, 24/7 science project. And they were. But they failed to realize what else they were stepping into: a shitstorm. Known as Biosphere 2, the “prefab paradise,” as dubbed by Diane Sawyer, soon became a magnet for controversy, including allegations of cults and charlatans.

And that’s only part of the story, decades in the making, told by documentarian Matt Wolf (Recorder: The Marion Stokes Project) in Spaceship Earth.

With $250 million backing and inspiration from the sci-fi oddity Silent Running, Biosphere 2 was the dream project of John P. Allen, a nomadic Oklahoma native who took a left-of-left turn after Harvard and assembled a countercultural theater troupe whose members then built themselves a self-sustaining ranch community, and after that, a seafaring research vessel, just because, hey, why not? Honestly, from there, an artificial ecological system doesn’t seem like a stretch.

Aided tremendously by copious home movies capturing seemingly every move of Allen and his crew, Wolf’s can-do New Age tale of wonder and might restores the credibility the brave and bold experiment initially had, until public curiosity beget a media circus, which in turn beget a controversy with no real stakes.

Whatever your stance, Biosphere 2 was a big deal when it opened — and then closed, hermetically speaking — but memories of it have fallen away. (And yet, the mindless comedy it inspired, the Pauly Shore vehicle Bio-Dome — unacknowledged by the doc, for the record — is retroactively regarded as a “classic” by people who clearly saw it too young, before they developed taste.) The only thing more surprising than Spaceship Earth’s Rue McClanahan cameo is that of multishirted serpent Steve Bannon, but every good story needs a villain. —Rod Lott

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The Wretched (2019)

With his parents divorcing, simpering teen Ben (John-Paul Howard, 14 Cameras) catches the bus to a coastal New England town for the summer to live with Dad (Jameson Jones, Hollywood Homicide) and work at the harbor. There, Ben romances a cute co-worker (Piper Curda, School Spirits), runs afoul of local bullies and starts suspecting the MILF next door (Zarah Mahler, Nightmare Cinema) of being a witch.

He’s not wrong. We know this upon seeing, well, something crawl out of a deer carcass in the dead of night. The Wretched’s witch looks nothing like Broom Hilda or Margaret Hamilton; she (it?) is a feral force of evil who hops among human hosts in order to snatch babies on which to snack. With binoculars and all-around nosiness, believer Ben becomes a Hardy Boy in a hoodie to save the town. It’s Disturbia cast with a spell of toil and trouble.

Following up the 2011 zombie comedy Deadheads, their directorial debut, Brett and Drew Pierce do a few things right in The Wretched: They accurately capture that summer-at-the-lake feeling, pump in the proper amount of the supernatural, and focus on making the witch look as creepy — and real — as possible. Although I didn’t find their sophomore effort scary, its production values are impressively high.

Working against this, however, are the two young leads, with Howard and Curda turning in performances that would be at home in the cheap, tossed-off movies made for the now-defunct Chiller channel. Howard, in particular, is particularly unlikable; while his character is realistically flawed, he way overplays the cool and, as a result, comes off as just a jerk — not exactly the surrogate audiences seek when hoping to fully engage with the material. —Rod Lott

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Kinjite: Forbidden Subjects (1989)

When push comes to shove, Charles Bronson shoves back hard — a dildo up a pedo’s hindquarters, a $25,000 watch down a pimp’s throat — in Kinjite: Forbidden Subjects, his wide-release swan song as a leading man. Bronson plays Los Angeles vice cop Lt. Crowe, out to bust an underage prostitution ring run by the greasy Duke (Juan Fernandez, 2009’s The Collector) any way he can; per Cannon Films’ 1980s house rules, that means wanton acts of violence and unchecked police brutality.

In other words, see it!

The plot thickens with the addition of an Asian ingredient, as corporate climber Hiroshi Hada (James Pax, Invasion U.S.A.) and his family are transferred from Japan to L.A., whereupon one of his little girls (Kumiko Hayakawa) is kidnapped and “hired” by Duke. Ironically, days earlier on a public bus, Hada molests Crowe’s teen daughter (Amy Hathaway, Last Exit to Earth), who screams and exclaims, “Some Oriental guy touched my holy of holies!”

Bronson fans eager to see Crowe dish out some serious daddy revenge on Hada will be deeply disappointed, as Kinjite inexplicably abandons the matter altogether. The omission of Death Wish-style payback is all the more startling given Hada is portrayed negatively from the start: a salaryman who prefers the company of bargirls to his wife (Marion Kodama Yue, Troop Beverly Hills) because, as he informs her with robotic matter-of-factness, “Your sexual gifts are few and bitter.”

From frequent Bronson collaborator J. Lee Thompson (The Evil That Men Do), the film more than earns its reputation of being aggressively sleazy and possibly racist. Collectively, the icky bits — such as a not-yet-legal Nicole Eggert (The Haunting of Morella) in black panties that appear to be cut 3 feet high — become the movie’s star, as Bronson barely seems invested enough to show up and flash a badge. While exhibiting that Cannon touch, Kinjite: Forbidden Subjects is not among his most memorable, beyond keeping cult favorite Manos: The Hands of Fate company in the small realm of movies whose titles inadvertently translate themselves into redundancy. After this, Chuck continued the aging-cop roles, but mostly in network originals — you know, the kind that don’t open with a sex worker’s jar of Vaseline. —Rod Lott

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It’s a Bikini World (1967)

Although a copycat of AIP’s Beach Party series that AIP eventually scooped up for distribution, It’s a Bikini World stands out for another reason: being the only movie of its kind to be directed by a woman — for the record, Roger Corman protege Stephanie Rothman (Terminal Island). She also co-wrote the screenplay with the producer, Charles S. Swartz, who happened to be her husband.

Pinch-hitting in the Frankie and Annette roles are teen-pic staples Tommy Kirk and Deborah Walley, reteamed from the previous year’s The Ghost in the Invisible Bikini. On the beach, Mike (Kirk) is instantly attracted to the new-in-town Delilah (Walley), but she’s just as quickly put off by his braggadocio vibe of entitled swordsman. Overhearing Delilah tell pal Pebbles (Suzie Kaye, Women of the Prehistoric Planet) she prefers men to have brains, Mike dons a disguise of glasses and bowtie to pass himself off as his nonexistent nerdy brother, Herbert.

By gum, it works! Delilah starts falling for Herbert while challenging Mike to races in hopes of chipping away at his massive alpha-male ego. Meanwhile, Herbert — er, I mean, Mike — is faced with the dilemma fueling so many sitcom reruns in perpetual syndication: how to show up to one place as two people! It culminates in a 12-event, battle-of-the-sexes competition that finds Delilah and Mike racing one another using various vehicles (skateboards, boats, camels) and driving a motorcycle through an automated car wash. Each event is introduced with smilin’ Sid Haig (Spider Baby) twirling semaphore flags.

While Bikini World is built upon the subgenre’s tried-and-true teen themes, it also doesn’t quite have the off-the-shelf interchangeability of other beachsploitation efforts. The first giveaway comes in the first scene, as a trio of sunglasses in close-up relays frames (no pun intended) composed with true forethought. Oh, the flick is still frothy, but Rothman has infused it with an artfulness — pop and otherwise — and a feminist attitude among all the pulchitrude. If only she didn’t have to ditch the uniqueness in the film’s final seconds!

Possibly because the film came out in the trough of the beach-movie cycle, it boasts arguably the least square music performances from today’s vantage point — in particular The Animals’ “We Gotta Get Out of This Place” and The Castaways’ “Liar Liar.” Not even the sight of Bobby “Boris” Pickett (as in “Monster Mash”) dancing to tunes while wearing a comically oversized hat can kill the good taste. —Rod Lott

Get it at dvdrparty.

Tread (2020)

On June 4, 2004, Colorado resident Marvin Heemeyer was mad as hell and was not going to take this anymore. After years of sparring with the “good ol’ boys” town hall and Granby city court over a sewer line dispute at his muffler shop, the middle-aged welder fought back in the only way he felt he had left: with a bulldozer he had secretly modified with enough concrete, steel and fully loaded rifles to become a homemade tank.

It’s quite a story. Although it sounds like Guns & Ammo fanfic, Tread is not pretend. It’s a documentary detailing the whole sordid story as a man-vs.-government squabble in a town of less than 2,000 people boils into worldwide headlines.

Tread spends about an hour interviewing the principals to get both sides of the story. Then we get a third: the truth, with footage of Heemeyer’s two-hour rampage of unbridled property destruction and threats to lives. As it unfolds, director Paul Solet draws upon his background in horror films (including Grace and a segment of Tales of Halloween) to ratchet up a considerable amount of tension and sustain it, even if Heemeyer’s real-life Killdozer moves at a mere 2 mph. —Rod Lott

Get it at Amazon.