Reading Material

The Friedkin Connection

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friedkinHumility is hardly an attribute that comes to mind when considering director William Friedkin, by all accounts a talented man who let success go to his head in the worst way. Refreshingly, he’s the first to admit it — and all his other faults — in The Friedkin Connection, a dumb title for a smart memoir.

Having been born the year of The French Connection and all of 2 when he followed up that Oscar win with The Exorcist, I was oblivious to how meteoric his rise was. He had made only four films prior to French, beginning with the Sonny & Cher vehicle Good Times, none of them hits.

In this book, Friedkin fills in all those blanks. It is more an autobiography of Friedkin the moviemaker vs. Friedkin the man. Personal details from childhood on up are kept to a minimum, relayed to the reader seemingly only when they directly influenced his work. As someone who tires of celeb bios that assume the reader wants to know every flipping twig on the family tree, I welcomed the brevity.

After all, I came to The Friedkin Connection wanting to learn about the movies he’s made, not the sordid details of failed relationships, and that’s why it’s a winner. He ticks through them all with candor and regret, from his big-budget, post-Exorcist failures of Sorcerer and the controversial Cruising to his underseen creative comeback of 1985’s To Live and Die in L.A. and up to last year’s wonderfully crazed Killer Joe.

But it ignores — as in, never even mentions — 1983’s Deal of the Century or 1990’s The Guardian. I refuse to believe he didn’t have good stories to share with those projects, especially since the former starred legendary asshole Chevy Chase. It’s weird that his one episode of the mid-’80s Twilight Zone revival merits discussion, but these two films have been erased. —Rod Lott

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Action

The New Original Wonder Woman (1975)

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wonderwomanAfter made-for-TV movie of ’74 starring Cathy Lee Crosby went straight to Nowheresville, Hollywood tried to adapt DC Comics’ Wonder Woman for the tube again, this time with Lynda Carter, thus the odd title of The New Original Wonder Woman. That’s a lot of adjectives; they forgot “bosomy.”

Set in World War II, this telefilm has stupid military stud Maj. Steve Trevor (a vacuous Lyle Waggoner, Surf II) on a one-man mission (yeah, right) to shoot down a Nazi plane headed for American skies. Following an aerial battle with the German aircraft, in which the stock footage turns to black-and-white several times and doesn’t seem to care, the two opposing pilots must abandon their planes and parachute to safety. Steve is shot twice by the Nazi, who gets his comeuppance by landing in the jaws of shark stock footage.

Unconscious and adrift on the uncharted Paradise Island, Steve is rescued by two of its all-female inhabitants, including Princess Diana (Carter, Bobbie Jo and the Outlaw). Although they’ve never seen a male, the ladies appear to spend an hour on their hair and makeup each morning anyway, and run around in flimsy nighties.

wonderwoman1Diana wishes to escort Steve back to D.C., under the protests of her queen mother (Cloris Leachman, Young Frankenstein) and her minions (one of whom is Grease‘s Fannie Flagg, lending a whole new theory as to why there are no men on the isle). Demonstrating incredible athletic prowess, however, Diana eventually wins the honor of flying the war hero back to his country via her invisible jet.

The United States goes ga-ga for this honey in the skimpy costume, and a talent agent (Red Buttons, The Poseidon Adventure) taps her to do a stage show wherein she deflects bullets using her bracelets. Since Steve is still holed up in the hospital, she agrees. And after that, she saves the world from the threat of Hitler. The end.

Wonder Woman is played as incredible camp, but apparently no one told Carter, and that’s for the better. Just when you thought the telefilm would collapse under its own weight of has-been stars, Henry Gibson and Stella Stevens show up, too.

Perhaps the best thing about it is its opening credits sequence, rendered via Pop Art animation, backed by that atrocious quasi-rock theme song (“In your satin tights / Fighting for your rights”). Do lasso this one into your viewing schedule soon. —Rod Lott

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Horror

Paranormal Activity 4 (2012)

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PA4Deride it all you want, but Paranormal Activity 4 performs a valuable public service by illustrating the dangers of helping a hot single mom in need.

The found-footage film begins with the end of Paranormal Activity 2, which saw the demon-possessed Katie (Katie Featherston) kidnapping her infant nephew, Hunter; a title card informs us neither has been seen since. Turns out, Katie and her creepy kid, Robbie (Brady Allen), live right across the street from Alex (Kathryn Newton, Bad Teacher), the blonde teen through whose eyes — or various camera lenses, to be technically precise — we see the events unfold.

PA41Katie has to go to the hospital for a few days, so Alex’s pushover parents (Alexondra Lee and Stephen Dunham, married in real life until his unfortunate death shortly before the film’s release) take in Robbie … and his imaginary friend, who turns out to be not particularly a figment of imagination. In fact, the malevolent spirit tries to kill Alex with a falling chandelier and lifts her off the bed. It also plays Xbox.

Needless to say, more sinister forces are at play, and discovering them on your own is part of the fun. This franchise continues to be a punching bag for many, yet each entry to date is wildly profitable and popular, and I’ve figured out why: They work. They tap into one of the most common fears shared by all: that someone — or something — might be in our house, invading our personal space, penetrating that one place we feel safe. And if we can’t feel safe there, boy, are we screwed.

The fact that Hollywood can do all that for relative pennies helps, too. —Rod Lott

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Sex

The Erotic Witch Project (2000)

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eroticwitchWhile The Blair Witch Project was by no means the horror masterwork as it was touted, it still had potential to be a good film. Obviously, director John Bacchus (Batbabe: The Dark Nightie) saw this potential, too, and decided to run with it, adding the essential elements needed in any great movie: gigantic, silicone-enhanced breasts and an on-the-loose ape.

Following the same basic plot of Blair Witch, The Erotic Witch Project follows three horse-faced hotties — Darian Caine, Katie Keane and Victoria Vega — as they venture to a remote wooded area to debunk the myth of the “Erotic Witch” for their sexuality class. They head off, even with news that an ape has escaped into the woods. The three bicker argue and lose their map. Pretty much the same so far, right?

eroticwitch1Soon, the girls start hearing the orgasmic howl of the witch, which causes them to perform many, many sexual acts, both solo and with each other — one even using a twig! These scenes are never really “hot,” mostly because of all the stretch marks and pimples on the actresses’ asses. Also, they seem really forced and fake. Unlike so many others, these girls just don’t seem to really enjoy being exploited in a film that is just above porno.

They wake up in the morning and find dildos and an inflatable woman strewn all about the campsite. Then, the ape finds their camera and watches them get it on. I think he masturbates, too, but it is implied and not shown. Not that I really wanted to see it anyway.

Blair’s nonexistent chills, production values and dialogue are mimicked perfectly, but this is the better movie, which is really not saying much. —Louis Fowler

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Thriller

JCVD (2008)

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JCVDOn 9/11, I remember thinking how different things might have been if someone like Jackie Chan or Jet Li had been aboard United flight 93. Certainly those guys could’ve, would’ve kicked the crap out of the hijackers, and thus, saved the day. At least that’s how it works in the movies; real life doesn’t follow a script.

The same kind of thesis is at work in JCVD, a film that has no right to be as good as it is. With the former Timecop and Universal Soldier Jean-Claude Van Damme playing himself, it asks, “What would happen if Van Damme found himself in the middle of a bank robbery? A couple of kicks and it’d all be over, right?”

Director/co-writer Mabrouk El Mechri (The Cold Light of Day) answers, “Nope! You wish!”

jcvd1In fact, after popping into the place to pick up a wire transfer, Van Damme is not only held captive as one of the hostages, but is assumed mistakenly by the authorities (stationed at a video store across the street) to be the mastermind. And “mastermind” is too kind of word for the true criminals; as with real life, they’re unpolished and unplanned. One of them looks eerily like John Cazale in Dog Day Afternoon, an obvious influence.

The highlight of the English/French co-production, partly improvised, isn’t concerned with the robbery at all. It’s the most meta moment of a meta work: a six-minute soliloquy of sorts, in which Van Damme speaks directly to us — in one unbroken shot — about his failures in life. He’s an internationally known movie star who appears to have it “all,” but “all” includes battles with drugs and ex-wives, the latest over custody of his daughter. It is stunning to see him deliver a honest-to-God performance, and he’s excellent.

Sounds grim, but JCVD is not without good humor, either. As an impressed captor relays to a hostage, “He’s the one who brought [John Woo] to the U.S. Without him, he’d still be filming pigeons in Hong Kong.” Without El Mechri, Van Damme still would be waiting for a chance to actually act. —Rod Lott

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