Terror on the 40th Floor (1974)

terror40floorTerror on the 40th Floor is really a scorned-lovers drama disguised as a disaster movie. TV’s Dynasty magnate John Forsythe stars in the terrible, made-for-the-tube The Towering Inferno knock-off as one of seven people trapped in an office high-rise after their Christmas party when some janitorial dolt below causes a raging fire, which he immediately tries to put out with one foot!

The occupants don’t even realize their dire situation until about halfway through, and then they each have individual flashbacks about Interpersonal Relationship Crap. Meanwhile, Joseph Campanella (Meteor) bites it while trying to escape down the elevator shaft and some woman goes bonkers and runs through a plate-glass window. And since NFLer Don Meredith is on board, you’ll want to as well. —Rod Lott

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The Gruesome Twosome (1967)

gruesometwosomeFamously, Herschell Gordon Lewis’ The Gruesome Twosome begins with a time-padding conversation between two Styrofoam wig heads, and yet, it’s not the weirdest thing among a compact 72 minutes.

Run by Mrs. Pringle (Elizabeth Davis, How to Make a Doll), The Little Wig Shop does brisk business for a Florida college town — not so much in selling them as acquiring new stock. That comes from the lovely college co-eds who inquire about renting a room from the matronly Mrs. Pringle, only to find their scalps evicted by the blade — later upgraded to electric — of her mentally challenged son, Rodney (Chris Martell, The Wild Rebels). Also part of the Pringle family: a stuffed bobcat named Napoleon.

gruesometwosome1When she’s not hanging with her sorority sisters by dancing on the bed and eating buckets of KFC while dressed in nighties, curious Kathy (Gretchen Wells) tries to figure out what happened to the missing girls. Says one of her sisters, “Honestly, Kathy, don’t you ever concentrate on anything but mysteries?” That’s a kinder way of putting it than the phrasing of her blue-balled boyfriend (Rodney Bedell, She-Devils on Wheels): “That’s all I need: Kathy Baker, girl detective. How’d I ever get mixed up with a female James Bond?”

Scenes of Kathy’s sleuthing play out in Lewis’ no-detail-spared style, so feel free to use the restroom or file your taxes while she observes an old man digging a hole in real time. If you choose to sit through it, however, you’ll be rewarded with Wells’ hilarious attempt at feigning a scream; no wonder Gruesome was her one and only screen credit. While the film is funnier than most of Lewis’ gore shows, it still is inferior to his Blood trilogy — inferior in a good way, mind you. —Rod Lott

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Detention (2003)

detentionOn the basis of the low-rent but ridiculously enjoyable Detention, I wish Dolph Lundgren had been allowed to front each and every Die Hard rip-off. Although about a decade and a half too late to capitalize properly on the yippee-ki-yay, this film definitely is that, which its use of Bizet’s “Habanera” from Carmen makes perfectly clear.

One of the most dependable of those Expendables, Lundgren plays Sam Decker, a “soldier … teacher … hero!” (per the poster) who follows up a war stint in Bosnia with a teaching gig at the public, prison-like Hamilton High School. “I’m phys ed … and you’re history,” he tells a thug at the beginning of his last day of work. Decker will end it by supervising after-hours detention (hence the title), which he intends to spend with his nose buried in a rip-snortin’ Clive Cussler adventure novel.

detention1But damn those well-armed bad guys who planned on using the school grounds that night as part of their getaway plan after stealing $300 million of cocaine! Led by the smarmy, swarthy Chester (Alex Karzis, whom I’ve never seen before or since) and his pink-wigged “pussy puss” girlfriend (Kata Dobó, Basic Instinct 2), the foes have no problem shooting at the students, but Decker certainly has a problem with it, quickly moving into action-hero mode for a cat-and-mouse game that plays out all over campus, including the gymnasium that’s already conveniently set up for full-on archery.

Karzis delivers his lines — including “To be or not to be … that’s the bitch!” and “Being a dick is a great job. I fuckin’ love it!” — with the too-big theatricality one would expect from … well, the high school stage. The star of this show, lest we forget, is Lundgren, and Iron Eagle series director Sidney J. Furie wisely just lets Lundgren be Lundgren, the quiet badass. Class dismissed. —Rod Lott

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Impostor (2001)

impostorOriginally one-third of Miramax’s aborted sci-fi anthology Alien Love Triangle, director Gary Fleder’s Impostor clearly should have stayed that way instead of being expanded into a full-length movie. As a half-hour short (which the DVD allows you to see), it’s nice and compact in a perfectly acceptable Twilight Zone-ish way. But multiply that by three, and it only succeeds in not succeeding.

The elfin-faced Gary Sinise (TV’s CSI: NY) stars as Spencer, a weapons designer some 75 years into the future. One day at work, he’s arrested by military man Hathaway (Vincent D’Onofrio, Full Metal Jacket) and assumed to be an android with a bomb in his heart, intended to assassinate a government official.

impostor1So is he or isn’t he? Even Spence doesn’t know for sure, but he spends the rest of the movie running and trying to clear his name, making Impostor an uneasy mix of The Fugitive and Minority Report, which, like this, was based on a Philip K. Dick short story.

Somehow, the film seems to progress at half the speed of its on-the-lam main character. This is because it’s padded with repetitious scenes, needless subplots and just plain ol’ drawn-out sequences. Sinise’s miscasting doesn’t help matters; he’s about the most unappealing action hero modern cinema could think up. —Rod Lott

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Ticket Stub

ticketstubTim Hensley’s Ticket Stub is a collection of the cartoonist’s now-defunct zine, but that zine was really pages from his sketchbook. Don’t let that deter you in any way, however, because it has a theme and a point.

The backstory: For 10 years, Hensley worked as a closed-captioning typist for movies and TV shows. In his sketchbook, he would draw random scenes from said programming. Those pages became Ticket Stub the zine, and all eight issues now stand united like conjoined twins in Ticket Stub the book.

For those who love indie comics, oddball ideas or the medium of film — or, better yet, all three — the paperback will bring many a smile, and not just for its charming, wholly appropriate die-cut along the bottom edge. (That had to be an unnecessary expense for Yam Books, especially for such an upstart publisher, but damn, am I glad they sprung for it — a creative decision that just feels right.)

ticketstub2The scenes Hensley illustrates are not iconic; they appear to be chosen as haphazardly (if “chosen” is the correct term) as the films, which range from highbrow to lowbrow, classic to trash, beloved to obscure, Butterfield 8 to Big Momma’s House.

Each is accompanied by a few lines of Hensley’s own contribution. Some double as actual description, such as this bit on Hercules in New York: “A bear costume escapes the zoo and meets their carriage. Hilarity ensues — an Olympian in a taxi, or rather, a chariot, flexes. He kicks the shit out of sailors, drivers, mobsters. He cracks ribs.”

Most, however, read like bad poetry on open-mic night, and in this case, that’s a good thing indeed. Witness his words for The Care Bears Movie: “Bereft of pals, gather a gumshoe, a cigar between the plush pandas, a black widow knit near the wagon wheel and share — the clouds and rainbows mar with crevice. The witch concurs.”

The final issue takes a detour by stringing the panels together into a comic, but with invented dialogue. Why else, where else, would Casper the Friendly Ghost greet a girl with, “I was shot in my crib. Do I give you goose flesh?”

If you’re only familiar with Hensley — as I was — through his retro-teen-comics work à la Wally Gropious, note that this art does not resemble that art. The drawings here — far more fleshed-out than the word “sketchbook” suggests — demonstrate a different skill set and wider range. The witch concurs. —Rod Lott

Buy it at Yam Books.

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