Kindergarten Ninja (1994)

kindergartenninjaOnly one film in history is endorsed by California’s San Leandro Police Department — and I mean endorsed via an introduction that’s actually part of the movie, with the police chief addressing the camera when he’s not looking down to read his lines. That lucky sonofabitch is Kindergarten Ninja.

Or, if you prefer, as the DVD label reads in all caps, “KIDNERGARDEN NINJA.”

Former San Francisco 49ers wide receiver and two-time Super Bowl champion Dwight Clark stars as former San Francisco Gold Rush football star Blade Steel, a playboy who manages a stable of at least 10 sex partners, uses “Hey, do you like French fries?” as a surefire pickup line and keeps a cooler of beer in his convertible. The latter helps earn him a DUI, but an argument can be made that fighting outside a Payless ShoeSource marks his true low point — either way, a judge assigns him to 90 days of community service at a children’s sports program.

kindergartenninja1Meanwhile, in heaven, where the likes of Elvis Presley and Charlie Chaplin engage in stick fighting, Bruce Lee (Anthony Chan) must intervene in Blade’s life to become an angel. Thus, at a dojo where everyone drinks Coca-Cola Classic, Blade learns karate from a blind master (George Chung) named the Chosen Wan. Get it?

Such high-kickin’ skills will come in handy when Blade faces Hector Machette (Juan Chapa, Fight to Win), a drug dealer slinging the hot new street narcotic, Buzz. However, the cops aren’t too happy to have Blade’s assistance: “Hey, I don’t need no washed-up wide receiver vigilante tryin’ to play policeman out here.”

kindergartenninja2Needless to say, Blade Steel does not become a ninja as the title hints, and he barely spends any time with the kids. He’s too busy romancing their teacher, Miss Linda (Suzanne Stanke), a goody-two-shoes who’s co-opted Peter Pan’s hairstyle. Together they go to a karaoke club that clearly is some crew member’s living room.

This no-budget, shot-on-video movie will give viewers plenty to laugh at, but not in the way Chan and Chung intended. Doubling as the director and screenwriter, respectively, the two men are in on the joke — it’s just the wrong joke. They think Kindergarten Ninja is hilarious; it’s not. It is painfully inept on all levels imaginable, particularly with its wooden performers. On the scale of gridiron vets turning to acting, Clark may be the worst; by comparison, Hunter‘s Fred Dryer would excite Joseph Papp.

Kindergarten Ninja ends with an unrealized threat (“The End … for now”); a shout-out to Hot 97.7 Radio; and a reel of bloopers, as if the entire project weren’t one in itself. —Rod Lott

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The Horror Hits of Richard Gordon

horrorgordonPerhaps being British has something to do with it, but Richard Gordon’s name is hardly a household one to fright-film connoisseurs, despite a body of work that would suggest otherwise. While hardly classics, the producer’s 14 films in the horror realm are well-known enough in cult circles that worship such low-budget efforts.

In his book-length interview with the man, author Tom Weaver hopes to change that. Unless I missed it, The Horror Hits of Richard Gordon does not state when the interview(s) took place, but Gordon passed away months after its release, so kudos to Weaver for getting these behind-the-scenes stories when he did.

I mean, it’s not like we need to know the ins, outs, ups and downs of shooting something like 1981’s Inseminoid, but I’m glad we now do.

Published by BearManor Media, Horror Hits is arranged chronologically. Made between 1958 and 1981, each film is introduced with a brief synopsis, followed by a transcript of Weaver and Gordon’s talks, presented in the easy-to-read Q&A format. With little prompting by the author, Gordon touches on all aspects imaginable, from the genesis of each project down to the salaries of all involved. It’s the anecdotes in between, however, that offer the meat, such as Boris Karloff acting like a saint, but Christopher Lee acting like anything but.

Weaver is unafraid to point out plot holes and other shortcomings, and Gordon doesn’t shy away from addressing them, which makes for a refreshing and frank discussion. Some of the questions that spark such talks are priceless, such as this query about 1958’s Fiend Without a Face: “Why do brains have heartbeats in your movie?”

Up until now, I’ve only seen one of the 14 films that make up this heavily illustrated, oversize volume (1970’s utterly bizarre Secrets of Sex), but that soon will change. In other words, prior exposure to these pictures is not required. —Rod Lott

Buy it at Amazon or BearManor Media.

Beowulf (1999)

beowulfThe classic, Old English epic poem known as Beowulf saw a surprising resurgence in popularity in 1999 with Seamus Heaney’s new translation; that same year’s film adaptation of Beowulf is in no such danger, but its fantasy brand of cheese actually tastes quite enjoyable.

The inhabitants of a big, spooky castle are under constant threat of attack by a ghost demon named Grendle, who likes to eat people. Their saving grace comes in the form of a visiting mysterious stranger named Beowulf, played by Christopher Lambert, Highlander refugee and graduate of the Angry Whisper School of Acting.

beowulf1Beowulf has a gift of sensing danger, so he knows when the monster is near. The beast is mostly a CGI creature given a wavy effect that looks like someone dragged a big magnet across your TV screen. The fight scenes — set to a techno score by Juno Reactor — alternately ape those found in Mortal Kombat, The Matrix and Evil Dead II. Beowulf also busts out some Gymkata fight moves. Assisting Beowulf is a foxy brunette (Rhona Mitra, Underworld: Rise of the Lycans) who has a name, but I didn’t catch it because her bosoms threaten to break free the entire film.

Now, I don’t know how faithful this superheroic take on Beowulf is to the source material, as the piece of literature was a chore to get through in high school, but I’m pretty sure if the castle dudes were being visited in their dreams by a horny Playboy Playmate, I would’ve remembered, and maybe even aced the test. The filmmakers end up dubbing the Playmate (Layla Roberts, Miss October 1997); maybe director Graham Baker (Alien Nation) should’ve done Lambert while they were at it so we could understand him once and for all. —Rod Lott

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The Ripper (1985)

ripperThe major problem with The Ripper is not that it’s a Jack the Ripper movie made in Tulsa, Oklahoma, but that it looks like a Jack the Ripper movie made in Tulsa, Oklahoma. Although unrelated in story, it forms an unofficial trilogy with director Christopher Lewis’ other video-lensed, T-Town opuses, Blood Cult and its sequel, Revenge — all full of faults, yet full of fun. This one stands out for the participation of splatter icon Tom Savini — not as a special-effects artist, but as an actor, playing none other than London’s most famous 19th-century serial killer.

Clad in cape and top hat, Savini first appears in the flick’s historical prologue depicting the Ripper’s first murder, complete with English accents and a horse-drawn carriage (and, unfortunately, moving cars and working traffic lights). The tale is being told by Professor Hartwell (Tom Schreier, Dark Before Dawn) to his classroom of college students. Hartwell then picks up his girlfriend, dance prof Carol (Mona Van Pernis), to go antique shopping.

ripper1While Carol negotiates the price of a brass headboard (discussed so much throughout The Ripper that the piece of furniture deserves screen credit), Hartwell is drawn to an ugly red ring that flashes images of the aforementioned prologue in his head. He later returns to purchase it, and can’t get the ring off his finger. The jewelry gives him nightmares and — gasp — turns him left-handed! It also may or may not have implanted the evil spirit of Jack the Ripper inside him, thereby making him responsible for the sudden string of intestines-yanking of several young ladies around the metro area.

While these gross-out scenes aren’t near the level of what Savini can do, they do look good, especially for Super VHS. As with Lewis’ other slashers, they’re the movie’s raison d’être, leaving less attention paid to other elements, like pacing and performances. As Hartwell’s pet student, Revenge killer Wade Tower gets a sex scene with his girlfriend (Andrea Adams, Blood Lake); she remains clothed, but he bares bright-red briefs. Staying in that same color scheme, New Coke abounds as the characters’ drink of choice. —Rod Lott

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The Invincible Space Streaker (1977)

spacestreakerSo nonlinear that calling it nonlinear doesn’t cut it, the Hong Kong oddity The Invincible Space Streaker has nothing to do with space, and there’s no streaker. But here’s what goes down, or as much I was able to decipher from its truncated-English subtitles (“I order you kill him!”): After a hard day at grade school, about two dozen little boys go to a local watering hole and remove their little-boy pants to go skinny-dipping. This odd group activity is halted by the appearance of a mystical guy with a stereotypical bad haircut. He’s dressed in a robe that makes him look like Dr. Strange, except that I don’t recall the Marvel Comics character having ever enjoyed an eyeful of undescended testicles during an afternoon romp.

Anyhow, this creepy doctor convinces roughly half the kids to follow him to this lab by using a poster of a superhero as bait, presumably because candy — the favored tool of kidnappers the world over — sucks ass in Asian countries. Doc promises to turn them all into “superman” (lowercase), but once the first kid is wired into a crazy contraption in the evil lair, it’s clear there will be no kid-to-superman transformations.

spacestreaker1Instead, Doc changes the first boy into a cute capuchin monkey. The other children react via frightened subtitles: “It’s the monkey! Not superman!” Another kid becomes a pot-bellied pig. A third boy is on the road to mutation when his full-bladdered friend yanks down his shorts and pees all over Doc’s face and the machine. (And it’s no special effect, either, as the camera horrifyingly details.) These two tots manage to escape, but the one whose transformation was interrupted by the ol’ stream-of-urine-as-means-of-distraction trick finds himself turned into a masked superhero. His costume is an unsettling blend of Boba Fett, Evel Knievel, The Fly and Liberace. He kicks bad guys and then there’s an elaborate (at least by the standards set forth thus far) motorcycle chase.

Then there’s more fighting as the hero fights a walking bug, several guys on choppers and, for a split second, what appears to be a man in a wolf costume. Pee-Pee Boy helps out by discovering the joys of explosives, and then promptly dies in a slow-motion scene highly reminiscent of Willem Dafoe’s death in Platoon. This makes the hero angry enough to zap the crap out of the bad guys to emerge victorious. Why he didn’t do that in the first place and thus spare his best friend’s life is beyond me. But all the little boys celebrate this triumph by taking another nude group swim, as the title card screams, “THANK YOU FOR YOUR COMING!” —Rod Lott

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