All posts by Rod Lott

The Films of Mamie Van Doren

mamievandorenIn the introduction of The Films of Mamie Van Doren, author Joseph Fusco connects the dots to draw a line from Hollywood’s old-school vamps (such as Jean Harlow and Mae West) to the 1950s starlets Marilyn Monroe and Jayne Mansfield. With the latter two, Mamie Van Doren often is thought to form the third point of that era’s sex-bomb triangle.

As the title has it, this BearManor Media paperback pays tribute to the cinematic oeuvre of the lovely lady, who survived when her pulchritudinous peers did not, because, Fusco argues, of her powerful roles and sheer versatility. He may be overstating the case — after all, we’re talking about the likes of The Navy vs. the Night Monsters — but Van Doren, today a lively 82, is no doubt worth such fun, book-length honors.

Fusco devotes the book’s first 50 of 272 pages to a breezy overview of her entire career — not just the movies, but everything from dinner theater to disco albums. The rest goes film by film, a chapter apiece, full of photos and poster art.

Signed by Universal in 1953 as a purposeful rival to Monroe, Van Doren first was cast in a number of uncredited parts two years prior. Soon, the starlet found no shortage of work, arguably reaching an apex — by exploitation standards, at least — in her eight collaborations with producer Albert Zugsmith. While he stands dozens of rungs below D.W. Griffith or Josef von Sternberg on the filmmaker ladder, far more people remember the likes of High School Confidential today than the Griffith or von Sternberg films in which Van Doren briefly appeared.

Because of the brevity, we are unable to get a sense of what she did in her first few movies; how much of that fault is the author, I cannot tell. I can blame him for the irksome multiple spaces appearing at the end of each sentence, but that’s negligible. His book obviously does its job, as my Amazon orders of the sex comedy 3 Nuts in Search of a Bolt and the crime drama Vice Raid now attest. (Sadly, Sex Kittens Go to College and Girls, Guns and Gangsters are unavailable for purchase.) —Rod Lott

Buy it at Amazon or BearManor Media.

Terror at London Bridge (1985)

terrorlondonIn 1888 England, Jack the Ripper (Paul Rossilli, Star Trek VI: The Undiscovered Country) pursues his hobby of whore-slaughtering, all while being pursued by the authorities. The police trap him on London Bridge, and Jack takes a presumably fatal plunge into the Thames.

In 1985 Lake Havasu, Ariz., of all places, said bridge has been relocated and rebuilt stone by stone, because hey, why not? Only one stone remains to be slipped into place, which is being saved for the dedication ceremony. A frizzy-haired tourist’s accidental drop of blood on said stone resurrects the Ripper, because hey, why not?

terrorlondon1The answer is Terror at London Bridge, a made-for-NBC movie as notable for having a screenplay by Logan’s Run author William F. Nolan as for whom it stars: David Hasselhoff. Then nearing the end of his Knight Rider run for the net, the Hoff plays Don Gregory, a misfit cop from Chicago who disagrees with the theory that the town’s sudden string of murders is the work of “a road bum.”

Plucked from the peacock’s then-hit Hunter, Stepfanie Kramer gets the thankless role of Gregory’s love interest / Ripper’s target / distracting eye makeup-wearer. Adrienne Barbeau (Swamp Thing) has even less to do, other than being an unknowing participant in the viewers’ game of determining whether she, Kramer or Hasselhoff possesses the pouffiest hairdo.

Directed by prolific telepic vet E.W. Swackhamer (Death at Love House, Cocaine and Blue Eyes, The Oklahoma City Dolls, et al.), this Bridge is worth crossing for cheese’s sake, because hey, why not? As if you needed to be told, the prime-time filler has a funny idea for what qualifies as “terror,” which is exactly the reason it entertains, in a way its makers did not intend. —Rod Lott

Buy it at Amazon.

30 Nights of Paranormal Activity with the Devil Inside the Girl with the Dragon Tattoo (2013)

30nightsMore thought went into titling this movie than went into scripting it. I picture the latter happening this way: Writer/director Craig Moss (whose previous turd, aptly titled Breaking Wind, spoofed the Twilight franchise with a kindergartener’s wit) writes the names of dozens of currently popular films, TV shows, TV commercials, celebrities and other pop-culture items on pieces of paper. Then he puts them in a paper bag and pulls out about two dozen at random. Moss then shoehorns awful parodies of each in about 80 minutes’ time.

Among his many “targets” are the Subway ad for $5 footlong subs, a dead Steve Jobs and the pottery scene from Ghost. Yes, Ghost, the movie from 1990.

30nights1As if you needed to be told, the results are either painfully awful or awfully painful. Also as if you needed to be told, 30 Nights of Paranormal Activity with the Devil Inside the Girl with the Dragon Tattoo — by and large, and in theory — exists to make fun of a batch of recent horror films, primarily of the found-footage nature. But in order to make fun of something, jokes are needed, which Moss forever confuses with his two obsessions: anal and genital activity.

In the latter department — and this list by no means approaches being comprehensive — 30 Nights features:
• a garden gnome being humped;
• a pool heater being penetrated;
• a dog performing fellatio on his owner;
• an infant performing cunnilingus on a teen girl;
• a ghost having sex with the lead actress (Reno 911!: Miami‘s Kathryn Fiore, for whom you will feel great sorrow and embarrassment); and
• every viewer being raped.

“It’s not even funny anymore!” complains a ghost at one point (with a British accent, because accents equal comedy?). He’s right … and also wrong: This movie never was funny to begin with. What Moss makes qualifies as an insult to lowbrow humor. —Rod Lott

Buy it at Amazon.

Masque of the Red Death (1989)

masqueTwice in 1989 was Edgar Allan Poe’s “The Masque of the Red Death” brought back to the big screen. One was from Roger Corman, whose 1964 adaptation of the same short story remains the definitive version. The other starred Frank Stallone, who’s not even the definitive Stallone sibling.

Although top-billed, Sly’s younger brother (of the Roller Blade Seven trilogy) isn’t the lead of Masque of the Red Death. That honor goes to debuting Michelle McBride (Subspecies) as Rebecca, a paparazzi photographer who crashes an exclusive costume party at a Bavarian castle in order to surreptitiously snap a soap star (Brenda Vaccaro, Supergirl) who talks about how big her breasts are and how small the other female guests’ breasts are.

masque1It’s the kind of only-in-the-’80s-movies gala, complete with games of human chess, live rock music by a band whose lead singer wears star-shaped sunglasses, and a Fabergé Easter egg hunt. Oh, I almost forgot! There’s also a loon in a red mask (masque?) killing off a lot of the attendees. It’s almost as if he/she is experimenting, since the methods of murder are inconsistent — you’ve got your knife, your sword, your needles (syringe and knitting), your pit and your pendulum …

In barely more than a year’s time, legendary B-movie producer Harry Alan Towers cranked out two other Poe flicks (The House of Usher and Buried Alive bookend this one), all of which are freewheeling with their source material. Poe played in the sandbox of the Gothic; here, director Alan Birkinshaw (Killer’s Moon) plunges into slasher territory. His Masque reveals itself to be awfully silly, but so splashy and colorful to keep from being truly awful. Despite losing all of the original tale’s erudition, it entertains. —Rod Lott

Buy it at Amazon.