Comedy

Loose Shoes (1980)

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looseshoesIf remembered at all today, Loose Shoes is done so not for the nudity of Hill Street Blues‘ Betty Thomas (trust me), but for marking the screen debut of Bill Murray. A scrappy, Kentucky Fried Movie-style comedy of faux coming attractions, it’s the very definition of “mixed bag,” which means it’s not without some laughs.

One of them arrives with the first trailer out of the gate, for a biopic of a Howard Hughes-like character; intones the narrator, “But his hobby … was watching planes fuck.” Blue humor reigns throughout, with such bits as The Invasion of the Penis Snatchers, 2069: A Space Orgy, The Bad News Bears in Getting Laid and the African-American musical Dark Town After Dark, featuring a catchy number whose chorus celebrates “tight pussy, loose shoes and a warm place to shit.”

looseshoes1The longer segments tend not to work as well. These include the prison drama Three Cheers for Lefty!, in which Murray’s death-row inmate incites a riot over quiche; Scuffed Shoes, a ballet-set murder mystery; and Billy Jerk Goes to Oz. In the latter, a snake bite sends the Billy Jack-esque rebel to the wonderful world; how many of today’s young viewers would know who Billy Jack is?

Other targets of parody are Woody Allen, nature documentaries, Walt Disney family films, the Ma & Pa Kettle and Francis the Talking Mule franchises, Charlie Chaplin, spaghetti Westerns, Macon County Line, concession-stand commercials and Star Wars, which is rendered as a Jewish space opera with laser-shooting menorah. If Mel Brooks didn’t steal this idea from director/co-writer Ira Miller for History of the World: Part I, then … well, he totally stole it. —Rod Lott

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Action

Terminal Entry (1988)

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terminalentryEssentially War Games made for the cost of a No. 10 combo meal at Taco Bell, the jaw-droppingly dated (even for its time) Terminal Entry centers on a group of computer geeks who sit around playing simulation games all day long. Their latest obsession is one called — ready for this? — Terminal Entry, in which they maneuver terrorists to plunder and kill.

Unbeknownst to them, the damn thing’s not a game at all! They’ve hacked into a military computer and are ordering real-life terrorists to make real-life attacks and real-life kills, the crazy kids! The situation grows even crazier when the high schoolers order an attack on themselves. Only then are our boys tipped off that they’re playing for keeps.

terminalentry1Do our socially challenged teens — among them, Heathers‘ Patrick Labyorteaux and Rob Stone, the eldest son from ’80s TV sitcom Mr. Belvedere — have what it takes to fend off a highly trained and highly armed unit of bad guys? Well, when one of the boys puts a tie around his head Rambo-style, I guess the answer’s a resounding “Yes!”

Truth be told, there is no reason to watch this film past the initial eight minutes, during which 1984 Playboy Playmate of the Year Barbara Edwards (Hard Ticket to Hawaii) steps out of the shower. Ever. So. Slowly. —Rod Lott

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Horror

The Awakening (2011)

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awakeningIn 1921 London, Florence Cathcart (Rebecca Hall, The Town) keeps busy in her work, exposing so-called “spirit mediums” for the greedy charlatans they are. It’s not only a living, but a distraction from emotional wounds not yet healed.

Implored to do so by the stammering, handsome history master of Rookford (Dominic West, Punisher: War Zone), Florence travels to the boys’ prep school, where students have reported seeing a gh-gh-gh-ghost! While our skeptic heroine is inclined to approach the situation with disbelief, one boy literally became frightened to death. Suffice to say, the Rookford faculty takes the haunting — whether real, imagined or an elaborate hoax — rather seriously.

awakening1The Awakening unfolds in a purposely calculated manner that matches the supernatural literature of its setting’s post-Victorian era. Some call that boring; I call it a slow ratcheting of suspense, and the lovely, headstrong Hall serves as a terrific guide through the good ol’ ghost story.

Directed and co-written by feature first-timer Nick Murphy, the visually rich film does suffer from a needlessly extended ending, so it lacks the payoff of 2012’s The Woman in Black, which The Awakening closely resembles in theme, mood, production design and basic overall Britishness. It’s not quite as simple as its stick-figure credits would suggest; speaking through Florence, Murphy and co-scripter Stephen Volk (the BBC’s infamous Ghostwatch special) tackle head-on the fear-vs.-science debate that sadly, inexplicably remains relevant even today. —Rod Lott

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Thriller

The Swarm (1978)

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swarmThat buzz you hear is The Swarm, disaster mogul Irwin Allen’s speculative epic about killer bees. As far as that subject goes, this one runs a distant second to 1991’s coming-of-age dramedy My Girl (Macaulay Culkin, nooooo!), but with Allen at the rare helm (he functioned not as director, but as producer for the influential The Towering Inferno and The Poseidon Adventure, practically birthing his own subgenre), this notorious turkey doesn’t disappoint in delivering all-star cheese.

A swirling mass of millions of African bees swoop down to sting a bunch of people to death. The insects first do some damage at a military base, then take down a few helicopters and disrupt a family picnic before moving on to more fertile ground, like a schoolyard busy with first-graders just itchin’ to get it.

swarm1Michael Caine (who later saw true disaster in Jaws: The Revenge) fronts as Brad Crane, the stuffy scientist who knows all about the stingers. His partner in the effort, (Katharine Ross, The Stepford Wives), mostly just sits there and looks gorgeous. And what a supporting cast: Richard Widmark, a wheelchair-bound Henry Fonda, Olivia de Havilland, a corpse-hugging Slim Pickens, Lee Grant, a pregnant Patty Duke Astin and big ol’ Ben Johnson. Of the celebrity deaths, I most enjoyed seeing Richard Chamberlain’s.

Caine and company throw everything at the bees in an attempt to appease their anger — firebombs, poison pellets, Fred MacMurray — but nothing quite works. Finally, something does, and only then do we get this incredible, full-screen, closing-credits disclaimer: “The African killer bee portrayed in this film bears absolutely no relationship to the industrious, hard-working American honey bee to which we are indebted for pollinating vital crops that feed our nation.”

So, wait: Was Allen was afraid of offending bees? —Rod Lott

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Sci-Fi & Fantasy

The Alligator People (1959)

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alligatorpeopleIf you’ve never seen an alligator in slacks before, you owe it to yourself to see The Alligator People. To be fair, this sci-fi schlocker technically should be titled The Alligator Person, but that’s hardly as marketable.

In the needless wraparound story set at a sanitarium, two men hypnotize a woman (B-movie queen Beverly Garland, Not of This Earth) to tell the story she otherwise doesn’t remember: the one where she was newlywed nurse Joyce Webster, seated on a train heading to her honeymoon with hubby Paul (Richard Crane, TV’s Rocky Jones, Space Ranger). But one telegram and station stop later, Paul exits the choo-choo without explanation — not to mention consummation — and leaves his nonplussed bride behind!

alligatorpeople1Sniffing for clues, Joyce hits pay dirt years later when she traces an old address of Paul’s to a stately plantation smack-dab in Louisiana swamp country. She’s invited to spend the night, provided she does not break the one red flag house rule: Do not leave the bedroom at night, no matter what. Joyce agrees, then totally leaves her bedroom at night, because she’s a nosy, horny woman and hears a piano playing. Unless this is your first film viewing ever, it spoils nothing to say that she finds Paul, his skin like cracked scabs, thanks to a science experiment entailing some 6 million volts.

Directed by Roy Del Ruth (Phantom of the Rue Morgue), this minor but merry flick bears echoes of the previous year’s mad-scientist classic The Fly, but lacks its lasting appeal. There’s still plenty to recommend, however, from Lon Chaney Jr. growling through a supporting role to Dick Smith’s alligator-man makeup effects. I want to rub my hand on them. —Rod Lott

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