Never Too Young to Die (1986)

Today, Steven Paul is best known (if at all) as the guy who keeps Jon Voight working in such modern crapsterpieces as Superbabies: Baby Geniuses 2, Karate Dog and Bratz, but back in 1986, he was busy trying to live down the failure of his infamous 1982 Kurt Vonnegut adaptation, Slapstick (of Another Kind), which likely will go down in history as the worst movie ever made based on a book by a modern literary master.

Apparently, Hollywood decided four years was long enough to leave him dangling before allowing him to co-write and produce Never Too Young to Die, a strange attempt to create a new action franchise that tried to fuse the retro campiness of ’60s secret agent movies with the gender-bending campiness of The Rocky Horror Picture Show. Needless to say, it didn’t work.

Future Full House icon John Stamos plays Lance Stargrove the (teenage?) son of American secret agent Drew Stargrove (George Lazenby, who presumably got the part because Roger Moore read it and told Paul and company to go fuck themselves), who’s killed attempting to stop an evil scheme to turn the nation’s drinking water into radioactive sludge by a hermaphroditic maniac named Velvet Von Ragner (Gene Simmons, summoning the collective spirits of John LaZar and Tim Curry). Lance is aided in his mission to avenge his father’s death by his glamorous partner Danja Deering (ex-Prince associate and Tanya’s Island star Vanity, who isn’t quite hot enough to make up for the fact that she’s one of the worst actresses of all time) and his (boarding school/college?) roommate Cliff (Peter Kwong), an Asian gadget genius.

Directed by TV vet Gil Bettman, Never Too Young to Die clearly was meant to stand out from the ’80s action crowd, but its overt attempts at over-the-top campiness only serve to highlight how boring and generally crappy the rest of the film is. Simmons obviously had a fun time playing his version of an Adam West Batman villain, but his giddiness only serves to prove how bland Stamos and Vanity are in comparison. Because of this, the implied sequels never happened and the chances of Stamos ever appearing in an Expendables entry turned to naught. Somehow, however, Paul managed to keep on working, if only to give his friend, Voight — who gets a songwriting credit (!) in this flick — a much-needed paycheck every now and then. —Allan Mott

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Space Thing (1968)

Call this softcore entry Star Whores or Fuck Rogers. Described by its very own producer, David F. Friedman, as “the worst science-fiction movie ever made,” Space Thing is so no-budget, its opening credits are painted on naked breasts (including the ever-dubious “written by Cosmo Politan”). Not that you’ll be complaining.

Our hairy-backed hero, James, is an avid sci-fi reader, much to the dismay of his horny wife. After she convinces him to make love, he drifts off to sleep and dreams he’s an alien, disguised as a human, in the year 2069 (natch) aboard a spaceship filled with intergalactic honeys and ruled by the lesbian Capt. Mother, who looks an awful lot like Rose McGowan.

The plot — James wants to stop them from reaching a California desert, oops, I mean far-off planet — is simply an excuse to allow the various and numerous sexual couplings. Strangely, the women (one of whom is named Portia — a Shakespearean reference, perhaps? Nah!) are allowed to fully disrobe, but the guys keep their pants on and simply do a lot of rolling around. Capt. Mother even gets her groove on with another girl and wields a stinging whip to another.

Something Weird Video’s special edition includes the original trailer — which tastefully references one sequence as “planet of the rapes” — as well as a gallery of Friedman advertising art and two future-themed short subjects, one involving a giant robot butler. —Rod Lott

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Kraken: Tentacles of the Deep (2006)  

I’m as surprised as anyone to learn that there are levels of “quality” to the movies Syfy plays, but compared to the kind of stuff Syfy usually presents, Kraken: Tentacles of the Deep is Casablanca. Make no mistake: It’s B-movie trash with a CGI squid that Nintendo would be ashamed to put in a DS game, but it does have a couple of things going for it.
 
First of all, it’s not a horror movie. The title wants you to believe differently, but it’s actually an adventure film with Victoria Pratt and a couple of interns looking for sunken treasure that’s guarded by a mythological sea monster. Oh crap. I hope I didn’t raise anyone’s expectations there. This isn’t even Tomb Raider quality, but I was just so happy not to spend two hours watching CGI tentacles take down drunken teenagers, that the ridiculous treasure-hunting plot felt original.
 
Something else it has going for it are the leads. Maybe I’m just still in love with her from Cleopatra 2525, but I find Victoria Pratt extremely watchable and the best part of any movie she’s in. And yeah, Charlie O’Connell constantly reminds me that he’s not Jerry, but he’s still plenty charming.
 
That’s about it for the good stuff. The rich, Greek villain is a mustache-twirling cartoon, and there are all kinds of ridiculous holes in the plot. It’s just that when you’re expecting a big plate of chum, even Long John Silver’s tastes pretty good. —Michael May

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Paranormal Activity 3 (2011)

Third time’s the harm — again — with Paranormal Activity 3, another prequel to a prequel. (In real math, then, this is Paranormal Activity Negative 2.) Rather than pick up where 2 left off, franchise-fresh directors Henry Joost and Ariel Schulman (Catfish) have turned back the clock to tell the heretofore hinted-at story of that thing that happened that one time to sisters Katie and Kristi when they were little. Holy shit, girls, do you remember that?

Lemme take you there: It was the ’80s. Your mom, Julie (Lauren Bittner) had big hair, a secret stash of pot and a new husband who looked like a douche because he never shaved. His name was Dennis (Christopher Nicholas Smith) and he made wedding videos for a living, so it was only a matter of time before he tried to bang your mom on tape. On VHS, even. Classy.

And you two started complaining about weird things happening, and Dennis set up a couple of totally sweet camcorders ’round the house to see what was what. (Even I gotta admit, rigging the cam on the oscillating fan’s base was ingenious.) And boy, did his DIY spirit pay off! The house had its own invisible demon — Toby, his name was, and he didn’t like to be called fat — who moved objects askew and had this cool trick he liked to do where people would fly across the room like puppets who suddenly had their strings yanked.

The same description could apply to viewers, who lap these Paranormal movies up. For all their simplicity, however … well, dammit, I really admire their simplicity! Whereas so many studios spend millions on special effects, Joost and Schulman literally freak us out with a bed sheet. A bed sheet.

Also, I just find Katie Featherston to be crazy hot. That is all. —Rod Lott

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6 Sexy, Sleazy and Stupid Jess Franco Films

Barbed Wire Dolls (1975) — Probably Franco’s best women-in-prison film, which features all the genre clichés: rampant lesbianism, the butch warden, the pivotal male prison doctor, the inmate who’s already cracked, etc., etc., ad nauseam. Franco is one of those directors who uses nudity as a wardrobe choice. No point in going into the plot; the clichés above pretty much tell the story.

Linda (1981) — This used to be widely available on tape in America (cut, of course) as Captive Women. It’s another captive-women flick made special only by the presence of stars Katja Bienert and Ursula Buchfellner — very beautiful, very naked. You know, I did some research on Katja Bienert. She was born in 1966. Linda was shot in 1980. You do the math. What the hell have I gotten myself into? Stop judging me!

Sadomania (1981) — This women-in-prison outing stars the notorious, exotic transsexual Ajita Wilson as the mean warden. It’s not one of Franco’s sexier (or explicit) outings, but there is plentiful nudity and an umpteenth simple-minded plot variation on The Most Dangerous Game.

Vampire Blues (1999) — Further proof that the madman is still at it, this is a really poorly acted (including Franco himself in a bit part), poorly conceived, shot-on-video, nudity-filled joke. It has horrible music by a horrible band, whose title song is played over and over again. It stars Rachel Sheppard as some girl haunted by vampiric imagery. And she’s the worst fucking actress I’ve seen in quite a while. It was worth every frickin’ dime I spent on it.

Voodoo Passion (1977) — A bright, beautiful and kinky tale, it’s set in Haiti which, I suppose, explains the voodoo part. It’s about a woman who visits her husband who lives in Haiti with his hot, frequently naked sister (the succulent, platinum-blond Karine Gambier). God knows what that’s all about. But it sets the stage for a colorful palette of sex and voodoo, just like the title promises. Also known as Porno Shock.

Rolls Royce Baby (1975) — I always thought that Female Vampire, aka Erotikill was the ultimate Lina Romay film. Almost every frame contained her and her willing nudeness. Boy, was I wrong! Rolls Royce Baby is pure Lina Romay. It’s pretty much all about her picking up hitchhikers for some backseat romping. She’s nonstop nude. What we’re left with is an image of her vagina so thorough and vivid, you could accurately draw it from memory. This is not, however, a Franco film; I cheated. It was directed by Franco’s former frequent producer, Erwin C. Dietrich, who gave Lina/Franco fans what Franco never quite could. Go figure! —Richard York

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