Thriller

Stash House (2012)

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stashhouseThere’s really no need for you to give Stash House a try; after all, Warner Home Video sure didn’t. The name of star Sean Faris is misspelled on the back of the DVD package, and when the disc is inserted into your player, you’ll be presented with two menu options: “Play” and “Languages.” Choose the latter, if not “Eject.”

Faris (Never Back Down) is David Nash, a douchebag banker who buys his veterinary wife (Briana Evigan, 2010’s Mother’s Day) a house without showing her first, much less telling her about his plans. Contrary to real life, she loves it anyway. While in the middle of christening the gated residence, they discover a loose wall that hides kilo upon kilo of heroin.

stashhouse1Showing up to reclaim it and eradicate witnesses is well-armed assassin Andy Spector (Dolph Lundgren, Universal Soldier: Day of Reckoning). Andy and his right-hand man (Jon Huertas, Right at Your Door) want in; the Nashes want out.

In hands more skilled than director Eduardo Rodriguez (Fright Night 2: New Blood) and first-time screenwriter Gary Spinelli, the cat-and-mouse scenario could be molded into something — if not something great, at least something worth watching. To start, the Nashes would have to be recast and/or rewritten to become likable; as is, viewers are inclined to root for Spector … and for Lundgren to find better vehicles for his quirky brand of he-man charisma than predictable, color-by-numbers thrillers of low wattage and lower intelligence. —Rod Lott

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Horror

Vacation of Terror (1989)

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Fernando (Julio Alemán) is an architect who has it all: a loving wife, three kids, another on the way, a teenage niece living under their roof and an appreciation for life’s finer things, i.e. cow-eye tacos. And now he has even more, inheriting a vacation home from his aunt. So what if it “looks like a haunted house,” as his daughter, Gaby (Gianella Hassel Kus), says? It’s his, and it calls for a celebration!

It also calls for, naturally, a vacation — to be precise, a Vacation of Terror! The old place turns out to be a real fixer-upper; it’s all dust and cobwebs and — ay-yi-yi! — the kitchen has no stove! Even worse, the place houses mice, snakes, spiders, bleeding works of art, flying kitchenware and upturned furniture on strings, all because it was built on the site where a witch was burned at the stake, Joan of Arc-style, one century prior.

vacationterror1Besides a pile of ashes, the Beelzebub-worshipping woman left behind a doll, which Gaby promptly finds and clutches. Looking like a bloated, latter-day Elizabeth Taylor, the doll has a porcelain complexion, pursed lips and the ability to do magic things. All of these aforementioned acts are accompanied by a close-up of its eyes shifting back and forth while the soundtrack plays the same sound effect: someone quickly dragging his fingernails across a piano’s wires. Third-generation director René Cardona III employs the aural sting so often, it eventually gains a Pavlovian effect.

If Vacation of Terror weren’t a Mexican-language production, it may not be worth a watch. Seeing American horror tropes filtered through the culture and perspective of our republic neighbors to the south is what makes this cheap flick fun, from the niece’s boyfriend (Pedro Fernández) stepping up as a hero in acid-washed jeans to his oddly phrased declaration that “I, for one, will make myself a sandwich.” His total ingredients are lettuce, tomato and carrots, in case you wish to emulate his snack for optimum viewing; in all honesty, a El Charrito frozen dinner — the more calories, the better — would be more apt. —Rod Lott

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Comedy

The Phantom Gunslinger (1970)

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phantomgunslingerAlbert Zugsmith’s The Phantom Gunslinger should exist as an animated film. It employs sound effects from a button presumably marked “ZANY.” It has opening narration that comparatively makes Elmer Fudd a great debater. Its scenes run sped-up more often than not; if that’s not quite true, it sure appears to be.

Plus, it puts former teen idol Troy Donahue (Seizure) on spring-loaded shoes.

Donahue plays Bill, mild-mannered seminarian-cum-sheriff of Tucca Flats, a Hollywood backlot of an Old West town. It’s a peaceful place until a group of Mexican bandits rides in, calling itself The Terrible Seven; one of its members is a little person who hangs with a duck and licks an Eggo-waffle lollipop. There’s no story to it — just slapstick fight after slapstick fight after slapstick fight, either with bullets or buffets. Of course pies are thrown.

phantomgunslinger1All frying pans and feathers and “Frère Jacques,” The Phantom Gunslinger makes joking references to The Magnificent Seven, Mae West and The Man from U.N.C.L.E., but really, it’s not so much a spoof of anything in particular beyond itself. Zugsmith (Sex Kittens Go to College) thinks this stuff is hysterical, but the humor is patience-trying, with just-because non-gags that range from a bank manager who strongly resembles Adolf Hitler to a saloon girl who drinks milk from a baby bottle. In the process — and in no particular order — he mildly insults Indians, Mexicans and your intelligence. —Rod Lott

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Thriller

The Candy Snatchers (1973)

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candysnatchersTelevision scribe Guerdon Trueblood (Tarantulas: The Deadly Cargo) ventured into feature-film directing once and only once, but what a movie he made: The Candy Snatchers, one of the greatest exploitation films of the 1970s.

The Candy of the title is schoolgirl Candy Phillips (Susan Sennett, Big Bad Mama), while her van-cruising snatchers are a slutty blonde (Tiffany Bolling, Kingdom of the Spiders) tired of sleeping with every third guy she meets; her brother (Brad David, Eat My Dust), whose number of kills is up to double digits, yet not high enough for his liking; and his overweight pal (Vince Martorano, The Severed Arm), who develops real feelings for their virgin hostage.

candysnatchers1Because Candy’s pop (Ben Piazza, 1976’s The Bad News Bears) manages a jewelry store, the kidnappers hope for a life-changing payday with a ransom of whatever diamonds are placed in the safe at the close of each workday. What they don’t count on is that Mr. Phillips appears to be in no rush to follow their instructions, nor do they notice their crime has a witness in a mop-headed kid (Trueblood’s scene-stealing son, Christopher) who happens to be overly curious … and mute.

Look beyond the porno-sounding title; The Candy Snatchers may wallow in the mud with dregs of society, but I didn’t feel the need to shower afterward. Trueblood injects a sizable dose of appropriate humor to keep the film’s grim elements from overpowering all else. With clever story turns, colorful characters and an uncompromising ending, the grindhouse great is a gem of a crime-and-grime thriller whose reputation should shine brighter than it already does. —Rod Lott

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Reading Material

Houses of Noir: Dark Visions from Thirteen Film Studios

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housesnoir13One can appreciation the idea behind Ronald Schwartz’s Houses of Noir: Dark Visions from Thirteen Film Studios without doing the same for the execution.

That idea is simple: Pick the best example of film noir from each studio in play of that golden era, and discuss it. Granted, this mean the work is driven by the author’s subjectivity — no problem there. What ultimately makes the McFarland & Company paperback lacking of substance is what passes for discussion and criticism.

Schwartz, a New York film professor, has great taste. For his baker’s dozen of bullets, broads and blackmail, he’s selected some excellent movies, including Charles Vidor’s Gilda, starring Rita Hayworth at her va-va-voomiest; Edgar G. Ulmer’s cheapie Detour; and Billy Wilder’s Double Indemnity, certifiable classic.

I hope you’ve seen them, because should you choose to read the book, you’re given lengthy, detailed, beat-by-beat plot summaries of each. What’s the point? Following each summary is a list of the film’s main actors, each of whom is presented with a list of other notable titles from his or her filmography. What’s the point? More futility lay ahead, as Schwartz closes each chapter by describing each photograph. What’s the point?

Far better books from earlier this year tackle the same subject. Spend your ever-valuable time and money on David J. Hogan’s Film Noir FAQ or John Grant’s A Comprehensive Encyclopedia of Film Noir instead. —Rod Lott

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