Comedy

Bigfoot or Bust! (2022)

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Exclamation his, Jim Wynorski’s Bigfoot or Bust! packs three scenarios — note I didn’t call them “stories” — into one lame-brained comedy. So similar are they, “Never the twain shall meet” need not apply:
• A large-breasted woman whose father died in a Bigfoot hunting expedition embarks on a Bigfoot hunting expedition.
• A large-breasted doctor and her large-breasted friends embark on a Bigfoot hunting expedition.
• Three large-breasted women from the future embark on a Bigfoot hunting expedition. But mostly for his giant turds.

Across all, the “joke” is Bigfoot (some guy in a Harry Knowles costume) is always around, usually peepin’! And the ladies don’t notice on account of their large breasts, ha!

For this sad, tired exercise, Wynorski has cast The Expendables of top-heavy starlets: Becky LeBeau, Gail Thackray, Rocky DeMarco, Cindy Lucas, Christine Nguyen, Tane McClure, Antonia Dorian and Deborah Dutch. All but Lisa London hail from booby movies of his past, including but by no means limited to Sorority House Massacre II, The Bare Wench Project and Sharkansas Women’s Prison Massacre.

While Bigfoot or Bust! digitally blurs out any instances of nudity, it remains T&A-minded, costuming the women in bikinis, bras and other push-up, skintight contraptions designed to ac-cent-tchu-ate the positive. Because having no story requires heaps of padding, the shot-on-video flick asks them to jump on a trampoline (shown in slow motion, revealing an unforgivable frame rate) and perform endless stripteases, one of which begins in a row of Coldwater Canyon Park port-a-potties.

If you believe Thackray and LeBeau doing childish impressions of apes will be the most embarrassing moment, hang tight for Bigfoot bustin’ a move as the girls DJ some rockin’ tunes. And for the sped-up film. And for the cartoon sound effects. And for the fart noises. And for Wynorski pausing the movie to get pied in the face. And for the laugh track. (Speaking of, I found one genuine laugh: a surreal, single-shot throwaway cameo by internet urban legend Momo.)

Many online reviews and comments object to the women being “old” and, therefore, “unattractive.” That’s ridiculous. If you’re going to knock them for anything, it should be their acting. That said, Lucas possesses real comedic timing, and I think Nguyen actually can act. Among all 77 minutes, a great deal feels improvised. I long for the days when Wynorski made real movies with real plots, like — as the cover art reminds — Chopping Mall and The Return of Swamp Thing. As he proved right out the directorial gate with 1985’s The Lost Empire, he’s perfectly capable of making a feature that’s sexy, funny and, yes, written.

Although not a Bigfoot movie completist, I don’t exactly turn one down when a screening opportunity arises. Following Bigfoot or Bust!, I may need to enact a no-go policy for any made after the 1980s. I’m sure everyone had a blast shooting this one, but it doesn’t translate to the viewer. The finale could not come soon enough. When it does, it taunts, “THE END?” No, Jim, no. —Rod Lott

Get it at Amazon.

Horror

Kolobos (1999)

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A classified ad seeks a quintet of participants for an experimental film. The project entails the five living together in a suburban house, their every move and conversation recorded “for VHS.” Selected are a narcissistic actress (Nichole Pelerine), a woman-hating hack stand-up (Danny Terranova), an academic sweater guy (John Fairlie), a socially withdrawn artist (future WWE Diva Amy Weber) and a riot grrrl type (Promise LaMarco). The latter works at Hot Diggity Dog, where she pees into the lemonade of impatient customers.

The most annoying among them — it’s not even close, even with all being unlikable — gets killed pretty quickly. Immediately, the house goes into lockdown mode, sealing the contestants inside for some devious Big Brother shit. See, the home is equipped not only with cameras, but traps, from a razor ’frigerator to ankle pinchers popping outta drywall. The Property Brothers would shit!

Sounds sweet, right? Agreed, Kolobos does. Yet in co-directing their own script, Daniel Liatowitsch and David Todd Ocvirk are unable to get their immense ambition to pay off. The biggest factor of dissatisfaction is the amateurish acting — some so poor, I cringed. The gore effects made me cringe, too, but because they’re good; particularly brutal is the unfortunate meeting of a character’s face and the harsh corner of a bathroom countertop.

While the death sequences (and a resulting disco-ball head) are inspired, the whole of the Nebraska-shot indie is not. Even the starting credits rip off Goblin’s Suspiria score as brazenly as Richard Band did Bernard Herrmann for Re-Animator. Worse, the killer is exactly who you expect. —Rod Lott

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Thriller

Love Crime (2022)

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For Love Crime, Nicole D’Angelo blamelessly jumps aboard today’s true-crime gravy train with her telling of Jodi Arias’ 2008 murder of boyfriend Travis Alexander. Not only does D’Angelo (The Awakening of Emanuelle) direct, but brings her irresistibly wispy lisp and chameleon-like quality to portray Arias as well. Barely over an hour, the movie does more time-shifting than a full season of Quantum Leap.

Her Jodi is devout, virginal and clingier than flypaper soaked in Gorilla Glue. After a couple of dates with seminar-bro Travis (Amateur Porn Star Killer’s Shane Ryan-Reid), she’s convinced the Lord’s holy matchmaking has brought them together. Travis isn’t 100% sold on divine intervention. In response, she pulls down her shirt to show her cups floweth over; immediately, his tune changes to hallelujah, He is risen, pass the plate, where do I tithe and all that. I get it.

Life-affirming cleavage aside, no scene allows an understanding of what made their relationship tick, much less tock; overall, more attention is placed on her breakfast egg preferences, a bartender’s war scars and a waiter’s cheesecake recommendation than to the nuts and bolts of their ultimately fatal attraction. However, every scene is fragmented into a montage. Reflective of the hand of frequent collaborator Gregory Hatanaka (here, producer and cinematographer), D’Angelo is unable to resist cutting to another time and place — or times and places, plural — often slowed and involving dancing and/or smooching. Love Crime has to contain more kisses than actual minutes.

Utters a police detective played by H.O.T.S. vet Lisa London, “That darkness inside of her … it operates on its own logic.” I would suggest the same is true of the film, if not for the film proving it seconds later when London adds with no certain cynicism, “If truth is bitter, my coffee should be.”

Indeed it is: Love Crime is so scattershot and undercooked, it hasn’t got a prayer. But I recommend the cheesecake. —Rod Lott

Get it at Amazon.

Documentary

Big Bucks: The Press Your Luck Scandal (2003)

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On May 19, 1984, Michael Larson changed game shows forever, earning the largest single-day take by a contestant: $110,237. He did it on CBS’ Press Your Luck, going dozens of rounds without landing on one of the game board’s bankrupting “Whammies.” While not statistically impossible, his streak was statistically improbable. More remarkable is Larson didn’t cheat. Instead, the unemployed, former ice cream man took advantage of patterns he discovered by obsessively watching episodes on his VCR for months.

The whole sordid story, complete with unhappy ending, is told on Big Bucks: The Press Your Luck Scandal, a Game Show Network feature-length documentary. Hosted by Peter Tomarken, the host for Luck’s original run, Big Bucks could have taken the easy route of planting narration over the pair of Larson episodes to discuss how he did it. Instead, the doc employs frickin’ CSI-level forensics to show how he did it, using every video tool at their disposal: slow motion, timecodes, unaired footage.

Tomarken even invites Larson’s never-had-a-chance opponents to try their hand at the strategy nearly 20 years later, before sharing the rest of the story. Yes, as with every get-rich-quick scheme, Larson’s one true hit was followed by miss after miss — including running afoul of federal law. A big bonus round to Big Bucks writer J.V. Martin for prefacing the considerable downfall with this hilarious line: “The ultimate whammy came for Michael Larson.”

And how! This is my kind of American history. —Rod Lott

Action

Double Nickels (1977)

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Having worked on both sides of the camera for H.B. Halicki’s pioneering hicksploitation indie, 1974’s Gone in 60 Seconds, perhaps Jack Vacek thought he could do that, too. And he did, editing, producing, writing, directing, stunting and starring as Smokey in Double Nickels (as in 55, which some can’t drive, but you got that).

Smokey and partner Ed (Edward Abrahms, also of 60 Seconds) work as California highway patrolmen. For a while, Double Nickels plays aimlessly, like a slice-of-life account of their day as they pluck ukeleles, play pinball and pursue a speeding motorcycle, dune buggy and truck — the latter straight through a watermelon stand. Then one traffic stop yields a unique opportunity that changes the movie’s course: a side hustle of repossessing cars. Smokey and Ed sign up, leading to more scenes of someone saying, “That’s my car!” than the silver screen has ever witnessed.

What they realize too late is the job isn’t what it’s cracked up to be, legally speaking; they’ve been working for a criminal enterprise! Cue the big chase finale, as Smokey tears through a swap meet, a fireworks stand, a public park and, presumably post-credits, his best girl’s tube top. (Patrice Schubert, aka Mrs. Vacek, plays said best girl.)

From today’s perspective, Vacek exudes big Dax Shepard energy and likability — and looks similar, too, which is extra-ironic, given that the comedian would be behind the wheel of his own star vehicles (literally) some 35 to 40 years later with Hit & Run and CHiPs. As such, Double Nickels coasts on a laid-back, we’re-all-family vibe, even in pulse-quickening, stunt-heavy action sequences that appear to put extras closer to real danger than union shoots would allow. When you have that in surplus, being light on plot matters not.

On the funometer, Double Nickels easily clears 85. Make some “vroom” in your viewing schedule. —Rod Lott

Get it at Amazon.

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