How to Make a Doll (1968)

how2makeTo say professor Percy Corly (Robert Wood, She-Devils on Wheels) knows nothing about women is an understatement: “Could it be,” he asks himself, “that girls are better than textbooks?”

Eff yes they are. Well, the sexy ones, at least.

In the harmless How to Make a Doll, one of Herschell Gordon Lewis’ more obscure pictures, the 32-year-old Corly lives with his henpecking mother (Elizabeth Davis, The Gruesome Twosome) who looks not unlike Cruella De Vil and pesters her son about the opposite sex to the point where he snaps, “I’m not queer, y’know!”

how2make1There’s hope for Corly’s virginity yet, when colleague Dr. West (Jim Vance, Scream Baby Scream) shows him his latest invention: a supercomputer that sometimes makes fart noises and speaks with a stereotypical Asian accent. Oh, but it also spits out hot-to-trot honeys in swimwear. For Corly, it’s a blonde in an orange bikini complete with camel toe; for West, a brunette made of “acres of warm, bouncing flesh.”

Much making out ensues, but Doll proceeds no further than first base. Perhaps that’s because Lewis’ precursor to John Hughes’ Weird Science suggests that such a machine would not be all it’s cracked up to be. That’s bullshit, Herschell — I still want one.  —Rod Lott

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Alice Sweet Alice (1976)

alicesweetaliceShot in Paterson, N.J., this regional horror indie is best known for being the film debut of Brooke Shields, age 11 at the time of its release. What it should be known for is being a solid fright flick, better than a majority of the studio-funded efforts of that time.

Shields (briefly) plays Karen, murdered during her first communion by someone in a yellow vinyl raincoat and a cheap mask from the five-and-dime. Suspicion falls like an anvil on her older, less-adored sister, Alice (Paula E. Sheppard, Liquid Sky), who “has a knack for making things look like accidents.”

alicesweetalice1Police detectives, one of whom has an office decorated with pages torn from nudie mags, investigate the crime — or crimes plural, as Karen is merely victim No. 1 in a string of attacks, the next of which takes place on a stairway. This sequence is well-executed (no pun intended) by director/co-writer Alfred Sole (Pandemonium), and perhaps the highlight. A close runner-up would be any featuring the family’s morbidly obese landlord (Alphonso DeNoble, Bloodsucking Freaks), a character so pathetic that he eats cat food from the tin and whose shorts bear permanent, prominent urine stains.

Alice Sweet Alice is as much a murder mystery as it is a slasher pic, but Sole errs by solving the whodunit portion far too early (and it was exactly who I thought it was). His manner of mixing the two genres yields an oddball soufflé — slightly flat in the middle, yet still tasty. —Rod Lott

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Funny Games (2007)

funnygamesI can understand why so many of the so few who saw Funny Games hated it. That means it made its point.

A shot-for-shot remake of his Austrian film a decade prior, writer/director Michael Haneke (Caché) serves up a brilliant deconstruction of the family-in-peril scenario we’ve seen time and time again. The difference here is that Haneke approaches it from a (mostly) realistic angle rather than a cinematic one: You’re going to get what you expected to see — violence — but not necessarily delivered the way you want it.

But you’ll get it nonetheless, and Haneke will rub your nose in the mess and, adding insult to injury, blast some ungodly John Zorn noise on the soundtrack.

funnygames1Naomi Watts (Mulholland Dr.) and Tim Roth (Reservoir Dogs) make up the well-to-do married couple whose coastal vacation home is invaded by the well-scrubbed psychopaths Paul (Michael Pitt, TV’s Boardwalk Empire) and Peter (Brady Corbet, Melancholia) posing as rich kids in tennis sweaters. The two break his kneecap, tie her up half-naked, and bet that they and their son (Devon Gearhart, Shorts) will be dead by morning. Let the Games begin!

Paul and Peter draw out their twisted little plan to where the family is agonized by the mere dread of the inevitable — and viewers by their lack of patience. When very bad things do happen, Haneke generally doesn’t let his camera catch them, so audiences decrying Funny Games for crossing a line leads me to believe that we have become a nation of pussies. It’s a challenging watch, sure, but one that is crafted with a clinical detachment, is acted splendidly (especially by Watts) and sticks with you. If you hate Paul and Peter so much — and you will — that you want to punch the screen, don’t blame the movie for doing its job. —Rod Lott

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Filmpocalypse!: 52 Cinematic Visions of the End

filmpocalypseI know Brock Wilbur intended Filmpocalypse!: 52 Cinematic Visions of the End to be read before that whole Mayan day of doom of Dec. 21, 2012, approached, but to hell with that; I didn’t know the book existed until a few weeks ago. The tinfoil brigade of fear once again was proven wrong; the world’s still spinning on its axis as usual; we’re still here; and Filmpocalypse! is still worth reading, no matter to which page your calendar is turned.

As an online project “in glorious celebration of our inevitable demise,” Wilbur watched and then reviewed one apocalyptic and/or post-apocalyptic movie every week, and this paperback rounds up the results. Because he is a stand-up comedian by trade, you can expect the book to be funny. But it’s also quite thoughtful and unafraid to address some Big Issues; this is legit film criticism that just happens to contain some killer jokes.

While his queue traverses nearly 100 years of cinema history, it also hops, skips and jumps among genres. Further livening up the action is that some chapters employ gimmicks. For example, in keeping with the loss-of-sight subject of Fernando Meirelles’ 2008 sci-fi drama, Blindess, Wilbur ran it twice — the first time experiencing it only as audio while he sat in a dark room. For one of Roger Corman’s rare bombs, 1970’s Gas-s-s-s, he live-blogs his mind-blowing experience — and it is an experience: “Nothing like thirty minutes of ‘silly rape’ to alter your perceptions of a cartoonish film.”

Most are straight-ahead reviews, however, and that’s A-OK, because they’re filled with such hysterical observations as:
• “I’m not saying it’s a bad thing when John Leguizamo is the strongest actor in a film, but I’m also saying exactly that.” (Vanishing on 7th Street)
• “Southland Tales is what all entertainment will look like ten years from now, and what most VH1 programming looks like today.”
• “Who looks at [Jackie Earle] Haley, even as a kid, and thinks that’s not exactly what a serial killer looks like? Sure, let him guard the woman. That won’t end in rape.” (Damnation Alley)
• “Can [M. Night Shyamalan] do anything without trying to show off? I’m surprised I can read his IMDb page without a cryptix.” (The Happening)
• “Is there a subset of viewers who were crying out for a Willem Dafoe porno? Identify yourselves!” (4:44: Last Day on Earth)

The chapters are most enjoyable when you’ve seen the movies discussed, not only because Wilbur goes into detail for Acts 1 through 3, but because you possess an understanding that allows you to laugh along knowingly. Trust me: You don’t know how dead-on he is in his wholly deserved takedown of The Darkest Hour unless you, too, have suffered through the stupidity of that one about the invisible monsters that our “heroes” keep craning their necks to try and see.

It could use a tighter edit, but the illustrations by Brandon Vaughn are of a higher caliber than one usually sees in a DIY project. As I would have with our world, I was sorry to see Filmpocalypse! meet its end. —Rod Lott

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The Way of the Dragon (1972)

waydragonDirected and “scriped” by its star Bruce Lee, The Way of the Dragon sends Tang Lung (Lee) from Hong Kong to Rome to help protect the Chinese restaurant of a friend’s niece from a steady barrage of neighborhood thugs. Upon arriving in Rome, he dines at the airport lounge, where he eats five soups! This makes him need to go potty! Two times!

No sooner as he reaches the troubled restaurant than the hooligans appear, trying to cajole the owner into selling the land. One of the bad guys looks like an über-feminine Pinocchio. Tang beats them all up, but they just keep coming back for more. And when he takes off his shirt, boy, he means business.

waydragon1Eventually, the big boss gets wise and hires an American karate expert named Colt to take Tang out. Colt is played by a very hairy and paunchy Chuck Norris, who — let’s face it — was destined to play guys named Colt. He and Lee spar like lightning in the Colisseum, which is really something to see. After Enter the Dragon, this effort — aka Return of the Dragon — may be Lee’s most enjoyable movie. —Rod Lott

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