Country: United States Director: Walter Hill Starring: Charles Bronson, James Coburn, Jill Ireland, Strother Martin, Robert Tessier Music: Barry DeVorzon AKA: The Street Fighter
I consider myself a pretty big Charles Bronson fan. I even don’t mind some of the violent dross he made in the 1980s as his career was petering out. I think it takes a dedicated fan to appreciate The Evil That Men Do, Murphy’s Law, Kinjite: Forbidden Subjects, and The Messenger of Death. Or the, however many, unnecessary sequels to Death Wish. I think my tolerance of this garbage comes from the fact that I just like watching him act. Some people may say that Bronson wasn’t much of an actor. I disagree. He simply belongs to, or portrayed, a different era. A time when men didn’t say much. They just did what they had to do. Okay, most men don’t have to hunt down psychopaths and then blow them away, but the attitude of going to work and doing your job, despite the odds stacked against you, is an old fashioned work ethic. And I think that can be seen in Bronson’s performances, and that’s why he was best playing strong silent types. Notice how his character, Danny, in The Great Escape was ‘The Tunnel King’. He was a worker, not one of the organisers or planners. He just got on with it, and did his job.
Over Bronson’s long career of playing strong silent types, I think one of his best turns was in Walter Hill’s Hard Times. In it, Bronson plays a drifter in the great depression, named Chaney. At the beginning of the film, he blows into New Orleans on a freight train, and stumbles upon a bare knuckle fistfight. A crowd has gathered round and are gambling on the outcome. Chaney watches with interest.
Small time hustler, Spencer “Speed” Weed (James Coburn) has a fighter in the scrap, but his man goes down and Speed loses his money. This appears to be a regular occurrence, but unflappable and unperturbed, Speed adjourns to a diner for a meal.
Later, Chaney approaches Speed and asks for a shot as a fighter. Speed is sceptical, but still arranges a fight. Everybody jeers and taunts Chaney because he is so old – Bronson was 48 years old when he made the film. However, Chaney quickly silences his critics when he knocks out the opposition fighter with just one punch. The thing here, is that Bronson is completely believable – I mean, never for instant do you doubt that he could take a man out with just one punch.
Speed sees a meal ticket with Chaney, and the two men enter into and an uneasy alliance. Speed is to put up the cash and arrange the fights, and Chaney is to take on all comers and knock them down. And although this film is about bare knuckle fights, it doesn’t play out like a two-dimensional video game. There’s a story with flesh and blood characters. Flawed human beings, yes, but none-the-less still a pleasure to watch.
This film was a video classic when I was a kid. My friends and I would hire it out repeatedly. In Australia it was known as The Street Fighter, which was allegedly the film’s original title. However, it was changed in the United States to avoid confusion with Sonny Chiba’s The Street Fighter which had just been released. The fight scene that we loved as kids was not climatic fight scene with Nick Dimitri – although that was pretty good – but the cage fight against Jim Henry, played by Robert Tessier. You’d recognise Tessier if you saw him. He was in a lot of 1970s action films (especially with Burt Reynolds) – usually as a big bad bald man. And guess what he plays here? Yep, a big bad bald man. In the fight scenes, he lowers his head so his opponent, when he punches, would hit the top of his bald skull, and the blow would be deflected. He also grins like a Chesire cat. This is one guy, who really enjoys hurting people, and he is the perfect opponent for Chaney.
I don’t know if Bronson and Coburn were friends – it is alleged that Bronson was a hard man to get to know and didn’t have too many close friends. However they appeared in several films together. Most notably The Magnificent Seven and The Great Escape.
As the film was a period piece, and did not have an overtly 1970′s style, it has not really dated too much, and if you’ll pardon the cliche, it still packs a powerful punch, and is one of Bronson’s more watchable films – but hey, as I said the top, I’ll watch anything with Bronson in it. Anyone in the mood for Mr. Majestyk?
Country: United States Director: John Flynn Starring: Steven Seagal, William Forsythe, Jerry Orbach, Jo Champa Music: David Michael Frank
Even as somewhat of a fan, it is hard to explain the rise of Steven Seagal as an action hero. Let’s face it the guy could never act – something that is verified over his long forty plus film career. All of them are shit. But there was a brief moment in the late eighties where he seemed like the real deal – the latest and greatest action hero. He launched himself on the action movie scene in nineteen eighty-seven with Nico: Above the Law – directed by Andrew Davis. I already respected Davis due to his assured direction of Chuck Norris’ Code of Silence. It was a good tough crime film (possibly Chuck’s best) featuring Henry Silva as a villain. Likewise, Nico – yep, Henry Silva was the villain – imbuing the role with his trademark menace.
Next for Seagal came Hard to Kill, which too was also an entertaining cop thriller – with the added bonus of Kelly LeBrock as the female lead. Kelly LeBrock may hardly be worthy of a footnote in cinema history today, but in the eighties, after appearing in the Woman in Red (and Weird Science) she became something of a cultural icon. Furthermore, Seagal had married her. Hard to Kill was directed by Bruce Malmuth, another director that I respected as he had helmed Night Hawks with Sylvester Stallone and Rutger Hauer (a film that I think is still sadly under-rated). So that was two for two. Could Seagal keep knocking them out off the park? Was it genius at work or had he just lucked out wit a couple of directors who knew what they were doing?
His next film was Marked For Death – which I managed to miss – which at the time was fortuitous, because it was crap. So when I first saw Out or Justice I had this impression that Seagal could do no wrong. My first impression of Out For Justice was that it was the toughest cop film since the original Dirty Harry. I may have had a little too much to drink at the time when making that assessment, but none-the-less it ticked all the boxes for a genre flick in that style, and with the added bonus of Seagal’s forceful limb snapping fight scenes. But time and place is such a strange thing. Loading Out for Justice into the DVD player, all these years later, was a strange and disappointing experience.
Sure, the toughness is there. But Seagal as an actor is painful to watch. Some of his line delivery, where he wobbles his head, attempting to mimic some bad ass character from the Godfather movies is dreadful, to the point that there it is distracting and harmful to the movie.
The story itself is wafer thin – however the crucial piece of evidence is not revealed till the end, making the story seem more complex and convoluted than it really is. It starts in Brooklyn (the whole film takes place in Brooklyn) and a cop named Bobby being gunned down in the street in front of his family and kids. The killer is a local thug named Richie (William Forsythe) – who may or may not have mob connections. And Richie is not done yet. He intends to turn the borough into a bloody war-zone.
Now Bobby, just so happened to be the partner of Gino Felino (Steven Seagal) – partner, as in, on the police force. Which immediately means that Gino wants revenge. The film delivers the requisite ‘Back off, you’re too close’ spiel from Gino’s superiors, but our mad as hell hero, shrugs that off with an icy stare. It appears that everybody is aware the Gino will not be stopped in his quest to stop Richie.
Adding another layer of plot convolution, it is revealed that Bobby, Richie and Gino were all boyhood friends – almost like brothers, so there is a twisted low-rent Shakespearean element that Gino must kill his brother, because he killed his brother – if that makes sense.
And finally, just to throw another hoary old chestnut into the fire, as I alluded to earlier, it is suggested that Richie has mob connections. But when he guns down a cop on the street, the full weight of the police force comes down on illegal activity in the area, particularly the mob rackets. So Richie’s rampage is bad for business, and the mob leaders also want Richie’s head on a pike. So it’s a race. Who will get to Richie first – Gino or the mob?
One of the most incongruous parts of the movie – and don’t get me wrong, in some ways one of the best pieces – is when Gino inherits a puppy that has been tossed from the window of a moving vehicle. Despite the fact that Gino has a family, and as such, as viewers we should identify with the peril that we find them in – and how Gino responds to that predicament, it is strange that an empathy for the puppy is stronger than for Gino’s familial unit. However, ultimately the puppy appears to be shoehorned into the story, simply for a comedic tagline at the conclusion of the movie. After all the bloodletting and violence, the puppy pisses on the person who discarded him in the first place. A kind of urinal retribution. As I said, such a slight and light sequence appears as a clumsy attempt to provide a hint of humanity to a film which until this moment has displayed a single-minded and relentless presentation of the most macho and bullshit heroics ever portrayed on the screen.
Recently, as I have been revisiting a lot of my childhood favourite films, I have found time to be a very cruel experience. Maybe my memory is going. Or I have simply grown up. I admit there was an occasion when watching films from the late ’70s and early ’80s where I used to get worked up about bad hairstyles and dated music scores. These days I am not so worried by them. Sure, I will remark upon them, as I think they are funny. But I don’t let them get under my skin and accept them for what they are – part and parcel of the times that the films were made in. But the truly disappointing aspect has been the acting and the action. Maybe I am more worldly now and have watched a substantial amount of Hong Kong cinema from the same era. As much as I appreciated Out For Justice for its fight scenes when it was released, compare it to some early Jet Li films. Not only are Jet’s film is superior on an action level, as an actor (even if the Western viewer has to read his dialogue through subtitles) he is far more convincing and emotive.
At the top of this review, I waxed lyrically about how I had once considered this one of the best of Steven Seagal’s films. My appreciation of the film may have changed, but unfortunately it still remains one of Seagals highlights – his best is undoubtedly Under Siege (also directed by Andrew Davis), and maybe Nico runs a close second. Since the early 1990s Seagal’s career has been on a steady and persistently painful downward spiral. I hate to do this but compare Seagal to Jean-Claude Van Damme, and while both actors have consistently made crap since their halcyon action star days, Jean-Claude for most part, it almost seems like the budget, script, happenstance and downright bad luck have played a factor in the lack of quality in his productions. I will exclude JCVD from this equation because it appears to be an anomaly. But Jean-Claude appears to try, but for whatever reason falls short. My perception – and that is just what that is, my own personal opinion – is that Steven Seagal doesn’t give a shit. If you look at is recent output, you can clearly see stuntmen who look nothing like the man they are doubling for, and hear other actors audio dubbing Seagal’s lines. If Seagal himself can’t be bothered to work on and improve any film that he appears in an why should we as fans, actually care at all. I almost see it as an insult.
I guess, at least I have my memories of when Seagal first burst onto the action movie circuit – he was young, slim and full of energy and even if his acting didn’t pass muster at least he appeared to care and so the flaws in the movie could be overlooked. That certainly applies to Out for Justice – it’s a very flawed movie but despite its shortcomings it can still be watched and enjoyed for what it is which cannot be said for the bulk of Seagal’s work.
When is comes to skeleton suits and rock music, one man stands head and shoulders (or should that be ‘skull and clavicle’) above the rest, and that man is John Entwhistle from The Who. The iconic performance was at the 1970 Isle of Wight Festival.
Of course, by the time I saw The Who in concert (only a few years ago) a lot had changed from the electric shows of the late ’60s and early ’70s.
Drummer Keith Moon – aka: Moon the Loon died in 1978 after consuming 32 tablets of clomethiazole. The drummer with the band when I saw them was Zak Starkey
For the youngsters reading this, and wondering why he was nicknamed Moon the Loon, well here’s a small snippet from Wikipedia (and this is just a small part of his excesses):
Along with his drum sets, Moon’s infamous (and favourite) calling card was to flush powerful explosives down toilets. It has been estimated that his destruction of toilets and plumbing ran as high as UK£300,000 (US$500,000). His levels of destruction forced the band to stay outside of New York City when they performed there, and his repeated practice of blowing up toilets with explosives led to Moon being banned for life from lodging at several hotel chains around the world, including all Holiday Inn, Sheraton, and Hilton Hotels, as well as the Waldorf Astoria. Moon became so notorious for this practice that when Nick Harper was asked about his childhood memories spent around The Who, his first recollection was, “I remember Keith blowing up the toilets.”
And also missing from the lineup I saw was John Entwhistle who passed away due to a heart attack induced by cocaine use in 2002.
Here, Entwhistle talks briefly about the Skeleton suit – uploaded by eyerockeyeroll
When I saw The Who it was a great show – it’s very hard to be good at stadium rock – but Daltrey, Townshend and co. are masters at this, but somehow I felt something was missing – maybe a spark, or a sense of danger. Maybe that spark can be seen in the clips below. For this post, I am not going to rabbit on like usual. Instead I am going to allow you to bask in music of one of the world’s best rock bands at their peak. Here’s a selection of Youtube clips.
Young Man Blues – uploaded by magopeu
My Generation – uploaded by punkscarecrow1
Pinball Wizard – uploaded by eaglerocktv
I Can’t Explain – uploaded by CCRtour1
October is the month of the Skeleton Suit! Or Skeletons, Skulls and Bones, and in a month long celebration, The Mysterious Order of the Skeleton Suit is checking out the Skeletons in their closets.
For an up-to-date direct connection with the Minions of M.O.S.S. check out the home page, or for you youngsters, you can follow the Facebook Fan Page or the Twitter feed.
In 1992 the world was waiting for a new Tom Waits album. It had been five years since Frank’s Wild Years (which still remains one of my favourite albums of all time)
Not that Tom had been idle. He appeared in films as diverse as Ironweed, At Play In The Field’s of the Lord to Coppola’s Dracula. He also released a live album, Big Time, with an accompanying concert film. Then there was a strange collaboration with William S. Burrows on a theatrical project called The Black Rider: The Casting of the Magic Bullets. A CD would later be released in 1993, simply entitled The Black Rider, but even hard core Waits fans found it hard going. Tom also did a soundtrack album for Jim Jarmusch’s A Night on Earth. I used to have a copy of that soundtrack, but when I was burgled in 1992, it was taken, and I have never gotten around to replace it. And there were many other projects.
Waits as Renfield in Coppola's Dracula
So Tom was pretty busy, but as fans wanted a new album, and finally after a five year wait, we got it with Bone Machine. However, as the title would imply, it was a pretty scary collection of songs, dealing with death, suicide, murder, and suspicion.
Bone Machine is pretty much a musical apocalypse, and the first track, Earth Died Screaming sets the scene and establishes the themes prevalent on the album. The title, Earth Died Screaming suggests that it is ‘end of days’ and that end is not pretty. Musically, a discordant percussive beat sounds like bones being banged together, and Waits voice over the top sounds creepy, almost a whisper. But not a soft whisper, a croaky, guttural monotone, with a hint of a hellfire and damnation preacher’s sermon to it. Albeit, as if the sermon was being delivered by a preacher whose Church has collapsed and the stone blocks have pinned him to the floor. Trapped, he now has to meet his maker. He says, “Well hell doesn’t want you. And heaven is full. Bring me some water. Put it in that skull.”
The next track, Dirt In The Ground is a wistful lament, that has a funeral march sound to it. Once again Waits suggests that “…hell is boiling over. And heaven is full.” And what is the future of mankind, well “We’re all gonna be, yea, yea, we’re all gonna be, just dirt in the ground.”
Such A Scream. In this case ‘scream’ doesn’t mean a throaty yell of terror but a good time, as in ‘that was a scream!’ And the repeated phrase is ‘She’s such a scream’. However the ambiguity is, as to whether the ‘she’ is a woman, or a machine? Musically, the song grinds and clangs like a large steam driven industrial behemoth.
On Bone Machine, Waits adopts several vocal styles. Sometimes he sings in the familiar growl. On other occasions he croons like a bargain basement Sinatra. Then there’s his falsettos, and bullhorn diatribes. And many of the songs have combinations of these stylings. He’ll adopt one vocal style for the verse, and then another for the chorus. All Stripped Down is a great example of this, with a bullhorn intro, then a falsetto voice through the verses, and then adopting a familiar growl for the ‘All Stripped Down’ lyrical refrain over the top.
Who Are You is a ballad in a more recognisable Waits style, although guitar driven, rather than seated at a piano. The Ocean Doesn’t Me is just plain creepy. It’s a rambling monologue by man who is clearly contemplating suicide by walking into the Ocean. But seems to be leaving a part of his demise to fate. He expects to be caught up in a rip tide and get dragged out to sea, but on this particular occasion, he isn’t taken. There is no sadness or self pity in the song. It is all matter of fact – and it would appear just a matter of time – until he succeeds in killing himself, or to put it another way, the ocean takes him.
Jesus Gonna Be Here is a blues spiritual, but also another song that reinforces the theme that the world has gone to hell. A Little Rain once again sees Waits in ballad mode, and this time seated behind a piano. The number almost has a country & western feel to it, with pedal steel guitar in the background. In The Colosseum sees a return to primal skeleton dance music, such as the opener Earth Died Screaming. The percussion sounds like bones being beaten together and the melody is reminiscent of carnival music, albeit a carnival that has gone very wrong. And I guess reflects the spectacle on display in the titular Colosseum – violence as entertainment.
Goin’ Out West is the song that got all the airplay on the indie radio stations, and it’s not a bad little number either. Well, see for yourself. Here’s the video clip.
Uploaded to youtube by: uglycliche
A song with a title like Murder In The Red Barn probably needs little description. However it is not so much as a song about a murder, but the suspicion that falls on everyone after the event, up until the killer is caught. Black Wings could be about the devil, or it could be about a serial killer – or the devil as a serial killer. Musically the song is foreboding but it has a great sense of atmosphere, and the lyrics are very evocative.
Whistle down the Wind is country and western song which features Churchy piano, with some lap steel guitar lilting in the background -and later some harmonica and violin. Vaguely familiar of Tom Traubert’s Blues, Tom croons the lyrics gently, that if you consider his gravelly voice capable of crooning.
I Don’t Want To Grow Up is as close as Tom comes to pure pop – even more so than Goin’ Out West. There is a duality to the lyrics – partially from a child’s point of view – but also through Tom’s delivery, clearly about an older person refusing to accept that they are aging. It has a real sing a long quality to it, and it is not so surprising that in recent years it has become one of his most covered songs.
Let Me Get Up On It is a musical soundscape which sounds like chains being reeled in. At under a minute in length, it doesn’t really have time to draw you into the song musically, so it acts as a bit of atmosphere leading into the last song…which is:
That Feel is Tom Waits and Keith Richards hamming it up. It’s not a bad country and western style number, but it they overdo the two old soaks routine a tad. Never-the-less it’s a smooth way to go out, and after all the death, and destruction over the previous tracks, it’s nice to leave with something that, while not being uplifting, is certainly more upbeat.
I guess it would be fair to say that Bone Machine is a heavy album, and if you’re not in the mood for it, a downer! But it is unique. Sure some of the musical stylings have been recycled from Rain Dogs and Frank’s Wild Years, but here they have been twisted (and possibly tortured) into something new. A song such as Downtown Train (from Rain Dogs) would be suffocated on an album like Bone Machine. Downtown Train, even if it is about longing and loneliness, still has a glimmer of hope. The songs on Bone Machine don’t have that battered nobility. They have been beaten and lost all hope. The only future is death. Sure it’s nihilistic, but after twenty years of singing about society’s have-nots where could Waits go musically? Light pop? Not likely. The only place he could go was down. And down he went. Bone Machine is a descent into hell.
As an artist, Waits stands defiantly against prevailing trends in rock and pop music. Bone Machine was released in 1992, and try comparing it to the other popular albums and musical artists of the day; such as Nirvana’s Nevermind (released in 1991 – but topped the charts in 92), or Michael Jackson’s Dangerous (once again released in 91). 1992 was also the year of Achy Breaky Heart by Billy Ray Cyrus – which became the first single ever to achieve triple Platinum status in Australia also the best selling single the year. Scary, I know! Waits has never been a follower, always choosing to do his own thing, and Bone Machine is a testament to his unique vision.
Country: Italy / Spain Directors: Fernando Cerchio, Nando Cicero Starring: Glenn Saxson, Helga Line, Andrea Bosic, Frank Oliver, Tomas Pico, Evi Rigano Music: Manuel Parada
Il Marchio Di Kriminal is much lighter in tone than it’s predecessor, and the plot is a little more straight forward. But, it is still fine, good old fashioned entertainment.
Kriminal (Glenn Saxon) is back and operating in London, but Inspector Milton (Andrea Bosic) of Scotland Yard believes the fiend is still locked up in a prison in Istanbul. In fact, Kriminal is now working as the director of Villa Serena, which is a nursing home for old widows. The film starts with Kriminal, dressed in full skeleton kit entering through the outside window, into one of the rooms of one of the ladies in his care, Ethel Smith. Ethel awakens, sees Kriminal standing above her, and then has a heart attack and dies.
As Ethel had no kin, the life insurance is paid out to Villa Serena (and Kriminal). After the funeral Kriminal goes through Ethel’s belongings. One item is a little blue Buddha statuette. Kriminal’s gorgeous accomplice, Janet (Evi Rigano) clumsily drops the statue and it breaks open. Inside is a quarter of a map, showing the location to two stolen paintings (by Goya and Rembrandt).
Kriminal estimates the paintings to be valued in the millions of dollars, and as such it seems like a worthy project and worth his attention. But the catch is, that the other three portions of the map are hidden in three identical blue Buddha statues.
Kriminal tracks one of the statues down to an auction house, but he is too late. The hammer had just fallen and the statuette has been bought. Adding insult to injury, the winning bidder is the fiancée of Inspector Milton, and she intends to turn it over to him as a wedding gift.
Another Buddha belongs to a German art collector named Von Beck (Ugo Sasso/Hugo Arden). Kriminal dons the skeleton suit and heads to Von Beck’s home, only to find that someone has beaten him to the punch. Von Beck is lying on the floor with a knife in his belly and the Statue is gone. Naturally enough, Kriminal gets the blame for the murder – but that’s what happens when you wander around dressed as a skeleton – people just believe you’re up to no good.
After his failure to retrieve Von Beck’s Buddha, Kriminal goes after Milton’s. Disguised, Kriminal poses as a guest at Milton’s wedding and swipes the statuette from the gift table. In it’s place though, Kriminal leaves a ‘special’ gift for Milton. The gift happens to be a spring loaded gun, that fires when the gift box is opened. The shot misses, but the gift alerts Milton to the fact that Kriminal may be at large. He runs out of his wedding and after a little investigating, makes his way to Istanbul to check if the authorities really have their man.
Now that Kriminal has two pieces of the map, Janet tries a little bit of treachery. Kriminal is wise to the event, and runs Janet a nice hot bath – unfortunately, the water has an electrical charge running through it. Alone, Kriminal next follows his next clue to Madrid, and to a Flamenco dancer named Mara Gitan (Helga Liné). You probably remember, Liné was in the first Kriminal film, but here she is playing a different character.
Kriminal and Gitan agree to team up and find the forth missing piece of the map. She believes it is in Lebanon, and they both agree to take a boat trip there. Naturally, Gitan double crosses Kriminal, but he was ready for that. And as she has never actually seen Krimal’s face, her attempt isn’t too successful. It’s hard to double cross someone when you don’t know what they look like!
Saxon is great as Kriminal. He has the looks to convey the sophisticated gentleman traveller, but he also has an evil glint in his eye, maybe even a furrowed brow, which indicate that there is more to this character than we are seeing. Andrea Bosic doesn’t have quite as much to do as Milton this time around, and Helga Liné is just plain gorgeous. As with the first film, the globe trotting locations and scenery are excellent, especially in Baalbeck amongst the ancient ruins. Manuel Parada’s music is light and swingin’ and really suits the film. As I mentioned at the top, this is a lighter Kriminal, but that doesn’t mean this film should be dismissed as being inferior to it’s predecessor. If you enjoyed the first, then I am sure you will enjoy this second outing for our skeleton suited anti hero.
October is the month of the Skeleton Suit! Or Skeletons, Skulls and Bones, and in a month long celebration, The Mysterious Order of the Skeleton Suit is checking out the Skeletons in their closets.
For an up-to-date direct connection with the Minions of M.O.S.S. check out the home page, or for you youngsters, you can follow the Facebook Fan Page or the Twitter feed.
Country: Italy Director: Umberto Lenzi Starring: Glenn Saxson, Helga Line, Andrea Bosic, Ivano Staccioli, Esmeralda Ruspoli, Dante Posani, Franco Fantasia, Susan Baker Music: Raymond Full, Roberto Pregadio
The character Kriminal has a rich history, which is a bit out of my depth to discuss at length. Put simply, Kriminal began in a series of adult comic books (called Fumetti) in Italy. The success of the comics lead to two Kriminal movies, made in the mid sixties and starring Glenn Saxon as the titular hero.
The film opens in London. A man is being lead to the gallows. The man is ‘Kriminal’ – an evil genius. He is to be executed for the theft of the Crown of England. Kriminal mounts the scaffold, and the noose is slipped around his neck. At the last second, before Kriminal swings, the lights go out and the rope breaks. In the confusion Kriminal escapes.
The escape had been carefully planned down to the last detail. But not by Kriminal though. It was the police that allowed Kriminal to escape. Why? Because the Crown has not been recovered. If Kriminal had died, the secret location would have died with him. Instead, the police have secretly positioned officers in cars and on foot to follow the fiend, hopefully to the regal headpiece. But as I mentioned at the top, Kriminal is an evil genius, and it does not take him long to slip through the cordon of officers, leaving Scotland Yard with egg on their face and a lot of explaining to do.
Taunting the police further, Kriminal returns the crown, letting everybody know that it is a goodwill gesture on his behalf, rather than the tactics or investigation skills of the police that have returned this priceless artifact.
Now free from the shackles of imprisonment, Kriminal can return to his old ways, and when committing a crime, this involves wearing a full body skeleton suit. It’s a pretty threatening ensemble, but you could only get away with wearing it in the sixties. No modern evil mastermind would be seen dead wearing it. When we next see Kriminal he’s in his suit and breaking into a ladies bedroom. When he flicks on the light the lady awakens, and then confronted by Kriminal, she screams. As she does, he takes off his mask. She recognises his face and stops screaming. Her name is Margie Swan and she used to be married to the man standing in front of her. And all that time she never knew she was married to an uber fiend. But that is all in the past. Margie is all set to remarry a rich man. She now works for the Tradex Diamond Company and her new love, is her bosses son. But Kriminal isn’t interested in Margie’s love life. He’s interested in Tradex’s next big shipment of diamonds from London to Istanbul.
The thing about masked fumetti characters like Kriminal or Diabolik, is while they are criminals themselves, their actions tend to take down people and crime syndicate’s that are worse. The regular criminals have no code of honour, or worse still, pretend to be upright citizens. Kriminal’s skeleton suit says to the world, ‘look out’, I am a bad person, ‘stay out of my way’. But criminals who do not wear are costume are hypocrites who want things both ways. They want there ill gotten gain, but they also want to be accepted and fit into society. That’s exactly what happens in this film. Kriminal attempts to steal some diamonds, but finds that they have already been stolen. But of course, he gets the blame for the theft, while the perpetrators get off scott free. But Kriminal is an evil doer of the highest order, so naturally he seeks retribution.
Kriminal is an interesting film. It’s fun in a glossy sixties jet-setting fashion, but there are a few ‘evil’ moments. Generally, the nasty things happen to people who deserve the atrocities, but a couple of innocents get caught along the way. It’s this subversive or slightly malevolent tone that may put a few people off this movie. But mostly it’s cartoon mayhem, with a dash of sixties glamour.
October is the month of the Skeleton Suit! Or Skeletons, Skulls and Bones, and in a month long celebration, The Mysterious Order of the Skeleton Suit is checking out the Skeletons in their closets.
For an up-to-date direct connection with the Minions of M.O.S.S. check out the home page, or for you youngsters, you can follow the Facebook Fan Page or the Twitter feed.
Iggy Pop has been touring Australia for years but much to my shame I had never caught a show. Of course, the friends of mine that had, regaled me with tails of legendary shows where Iggy would – well put simply, do Iggy Pop things – whether that be open him self up, dive into the crowd or get naked. But I missed his shows every time. It would appear, according to Alvin Gibbs, formerly of the U.K. Subs, and one time member of Iggy Pop’s support band, that Iggy’s 1989 tour of Australia and New Zealand – as support to Jimmy Barnes on his Barnestorming tour – was quite a series of shows.
Before I go any further, for those unfamiliar with Jimmy Barnes, he was the lead singer of one of Australia’s leading bands Cold Chisel – and if trivia fact sheets are to be believe then Chisel’s song Khe-San is the most highly played jukebox song in the U.K. despite the fact that it was never released as a single. I presume drunken ex-pat Aussies must rule the U.K. jukebox playlists. Anyway after Chisel called it a day (well I say that loosely as I believe they are reforming for a series of concerts this summer), Barnesy went solo. His first few albums were okay, but I must admit by the Barnestorming stage he had lost me, as his albums were over-produced and lost that earthy (or maybe honest) feel that the Chisel and early solo work had.
Anyway, according to Gibbs, in his book Neighbourhood Threat, on the New Zealand leg of the tour, Iggy had a go at one of the show’s sponsors (well, that’s putting it politely). You’ve got to remember this was at the time of what Billy Joel would call the ‘Rock ‘n’ Rolla Cola Wars’, and Barnsey’s tour was sponsored by Pepsi – the alleged choice of a New Generation. Iggy didn’t appreciate the Pepsi signage and chose to express himself in a way that only Iggy Pop could.
As Alvin Gibbs says (Neighbourhood Threat: On Tour With Iggy Pop. 2001 – Codex Publishing – revised edition) page 116-117.
Directly behind the amplifiers and kit hung a massive backdrop declaring: “Pepsi Cola – the voice of a new generation” in red and blue letters on a white canvas background. Furthermore, lapping around in the early evening breeze on both sides of the stage were two ten foot banners bearing the Pepsi trademark along with representations of king-sized cola cans. As we hammered into our first number, ‘TV Eye’, I could see the disgust that Iggy felt at having to perform on what was basically a soft drink commercial billboard. Now, we knew that Pepsi Cola were the sponsors for the two New Zealand festival shows because the Barnestorming tour itinerary had Pepsi presents, written all over it and their corporate symbol stamp on the cover. But what we hadn’t realised was that we were expected to perform and play our music with those fucking monstrous cans of soda at our shoulders and a stupid, presumptuous advertising slogan for a backdrop. None of that stuff had been present during the sound check. It must have been hauled up just before the first band was due to play by the devious cola stage-hands.
Iggy was far from happy. After bringing ‘TV Eye’ to an end he pointed up at one of the banner cans and screamed into his microphone, “See that? I’d rather drink my own piss than touch that vile shit.”
This appealed to the crowds innate sense of anarchy and they let out a roar of agreement as Iggy bullied and whipped us into a searing extraordinary performance of ‘Five Foot One’ which jumped and jolted like no version we had ever delivered before.
After each song of the set, Iggy had a new observation share with the audience about our sponsors.
“If those fuckers are the voice of a new generation, then I’m glad I’m a fuckin’ old fart!”
“Yeah, Iggy, you tell those corporate assholes what’s what,”the crowd seemed to be saying back in its own wild assed communal fashion. “We’re on your side, Iggy, man… Let them have it.”
The crowd’s approval of Iggy’s stance pushed him on to new heights.
“Those evil sons of bitches at fuckin’ Pepsi want to rot your guts and brains with their poisonous shit. They want to fill your veins full of their pus, filth and garbage, and turn you into non-thinking bloated fucking consumers. Well, fuck them! Fuck them! Fuck them…” Then he turned to us. “Okay, motherfuckers, give me ‘Search and Destroy’”, and pointing to the Pepsi backdrop, Iggy added, “’Cos that’s what I’m gonna do to the assholes who expect me to sing with that on my stage.”
Of course you can read more about Iggy’s exploits in Neighbourhood Threat, which is well worth the read – the passage about how Julio Iglesias disabled a tour bus had me laughing out loud.
Despite never having caught a Iggy Pop show, I still had managed to amass quite a bit of audio and video of Pop over the years – each piece almost providing a brief but insightful piece to the jigsaw puzzle that makes up Pop’s career. Most amazing – but hardly easy listening is Metallic K.O. Listen to that at volume (especially Rich Bitch) and then come back and tell me how hard the current crop of punk rockers are, eh? I am sure many books could be and have been written about Iggy and the destruction of The Stooges, so I wont be stupid (and express my ignorance) and talk about it here.
But The Stooges became a big part of my life. I wont bore you with the details, but I was going through a rough patch back a few years ago, and the first two albums (The Stooges and Funhouse) almost became a soundtrack for my life. Then a friend played me a new album, Skull Ring.
Immediately I was blown away. The selling point was that The Stooges had reformed and had played on a few tracks. That was enough to grab me by the balls, and have me proclaiming that this was the greatest fucking record of all time. In hindsight I can say that possibly The Trolls tracks (with Whitey Kirst and the band, who can been seen in the Kiss My Blood video) were better numbers.
Adding icing to the cake, Iggy and The Stooges were set to reform, and were about to tour Australia as a part of The Big Day Out. For International readers, let me explain that The Big Day Out is a music festival that tours around Australia (and New Zealand) in the summer with a massive lineup of talent. That years line up included not only Iggy, but the Beasts of Bourbon, Franz Ferdinand, the Mars Volta, and Henry Rollins doing one of his spoken word shows – and of course a swag of others, most of who I didn’t see.
Now let me explain why. The show starts at 11:00 am, so I met up with friends at around 10:00. As we hadn’t eaten, we decided to have a late breakfast to line our stomachs. A Good idea, and we chose a cafe in Chapel Street for this. We ate our breakfast, but as Chapel Street is lined with bars, we meandered towards the train station stopping at practically every bar. In fact, by lunchtime, we hadn’t left Chapel Street and were at a bar called Vokdka, Borsch and Tears. The fad at the time was to drink Green Fairies (for the un-initiated – a flaming Absinthe concoction), so rather than lunch, we had the girl mix up a few drinks for us. A part of the fun with fairies, was always having the attractive barmaid join you at your table and do the flaming and the mixing. Three hours later, we actually made it to the venue, and despite the copious amount of alcohol that had been consumed, were still in reasonable shape.
By 5:00 o’clock we were out front of Channel One Sound System with Mickey Dread. This sounds pompous, but at a event such as this I hate cool people and poseurs, and quite a few of them seemed to be gathered in front of Mickey Dread. The music was great, but there was a giant open space in front of the band. There were plenty of attractive girls grooving on the side, but no one was prepared to go out, relax and dance. Finally the group I was with stood up and went out, and you know what? Yep, everyone else got up and joined in, and started having a good time. Sorry at my age I am not the pace and style setter, and really do think some ‘cool’ people should stop worrying about how they look and just relax and do it. If it feels good, do it.
Now I don’t want you to think that we were those drunken few that get up too early and make fools of themselves. Readers who are in, or have been in a band, will know what I am talking about. There is always some drunk guy, who is first to the front at a gig, and stands there swaying and dancing on his own for fifteen or twenty minutes before security shuffles him out of the building. We weren’t these guys, after all the festival had been going for four hours before we got there and we had been there for another two after that. The crowd was already fairly well lubricated (or had indulged in their own favourite vice). They were just a bit stiff, as if they needed permission to have a good time. I admit it was a strange environment for such a large crowd.
After Channel One and Mickey Dread, we caught Rollins, The Beasts (who were brilliant) and then a bit of Franz. And then it was Iggy and The Stooges. They didn’t let the crowd down. As the sun went down, they launched into a set of songs from The Stooges and Funhouse (surprisingly no Raw Power or new stuff from Skull Ring). So that was the day, and a good one it was too.
After all my self indulgent rambling, you’re probably wondering about the album Skull Ring (after all it is the topic of this post). Well the album was released in 2003 and not only featured The Stooges and The Trolls, but also some of the young Turks of the punk scene, such as Sum 41, Green Day, and Peaches.
Track one, with the Stooges is Little Electric Chair, which is a straight ahead rocker with a grinding rythym. It’s great opener and immediately joins the list of great capital punishment songs, right up there with Nick Cave’s Mercy Seat (also about an electric chair), and Johnny Cash’s 25 Minutes to Go.
Little Electric Chair – Iggy with The Stooges. Uploaded to Youtube by ROCKS1484J
Next up is Perverts in the Sun, where Iggy is joined to The Trolls, and impossibly so, but this number is harder and faster than the opener. Relentless. Skull Ring, once again with The Stooges has a driving Peter Gunn-esque grind behind it, and lyrically, like Conan the Barbarian before him, Iggy extolls all that is good in life. And no, it’s not ‘crush your enemies and see them driven before you and hear the lamentations of their women’, but ‘Skull Rings, Fast Cars, Hot Chicks, Money’.
The tag team between The Stooges and Trolls continues on Superbabe and Loser. The Trolls add a suitably noisy, crunching rhythm track to Superbabe, but Iggy’s vocal has a distracting echo on it, making this the first mis-step on the album. Similarly on The Stooges backed Loser, the vocal styling distracts from a crunching musicianship underneath – and there’s a nice change in this song too.
Private Hell with Green Day is almost perfect pop. Almost. The song bounces along nicely – it’s just a pity that for some reason it reminds me of The Passenger. Iggy and Sum 41 bring the album back to the hard rocking power of the opening tracks with Little Know it All.
Here’s a clip for Private Hell uploaded by oleg15021976. I’m not sure what this has been mashed with but you’ve gotta love dancing skeletons (a bit more skullduggery).
And Little Know It All by Iggy and Sum 41 from Iggy Pop’s Youtube Channel.
Songs based on popular catchphrases of the moment are always going to date lyrically, and Whatever falls into that trap. Although musically, courtesy of The Trolls, it hits and locks into a suitably hard groove.
Iggy croons Dead Rock Star over an eclectic arrangement by The Stooges. It’s not really a musical marriage that works, and at times, the song sounds very 1980s – in a bad way. Rock Show by Iggy with Peaches is possibly the only song which I don’t like on the album. It sounds like a synthetic punk. In Here Comes the Summer Iggy reverts to the echoed vocal styling, such as Superbabe and Loser, and once again, it adds a layer of artificiality to a song that at best should be a bread and butter rocker. That mistake is rectified on Motor Inn with Feedom featuring Peaches.
Iggy and The Trolls serve up a bit of moody introspective rock with Inferiority Complex. The beat is a lot slower and the song feels more like a hard rock number from the 1970s, from a band like Black Sabbath. Green Day returns for Super Market which is the lyrical equivalent of the Alvin Gibbs Pepsi story as related above.
Iggy Pop as an old bluesman? I can dig it. So this this is Iggy by himself with a guitar – Til Wrong Feels Right. Strangely, although this is the simplest song on the album, as it is so stripped down, it feels authentic. It’s not overproduced, like a few of the tracks and as such, being so different, it becomes a standout track.
Iggy and The Trolls close the album out (or so the track listing would have you believe) with Blood On Your Cool, which is right up with the best of the hard rocking tracks on the album. There’s a hidden track flowing on from Blood On Your Cool, which I don’t know who it is (The Trolls?) or what it is called (Nervous Exhaustion?) But it keeps the energy up till the end.
The thing with Iggy Pop is that he has had a long and diverse career. Songs from Funhouse (such as Down On The Street) are very different from songs off New Values (such as Endless Sea). And both of those albums are very different from Blah Blah Blah. I could go on. Earlier I alluded to the career of Iggy Pop of somewhat of a jigsaw puzzle, and it really is. Each piece is different and fits into its own unique slot. Skull Ring, in someways, with the regrouping of The Stooges, represents a return to his past, but at the same time it is something different. The early Stooges albums had an anger and a healthy dose of youthful rebellion about them. Skull Ring doesn’t have that youthful swagger, but has an aging defiance to it. It says, ‘we may be old, be we can still play harder than the young pups!’ This is only amplified by the inclusion of the ‘new’ punks on the album. Each song is reminiscent of a better Iggy Pop song. Green Day’s Private Hell has enough echoes of The Passenger to make me want to stop the CD, and actually dig out a version of The Passenger.
The album is flawed. But despite any negativity implied above, this is still one of my favourite hard rock albums on the 21st Century. Sometimes you just need it ‘loud’!
October is the month of the Skeleton Suit! Or Skeletons, Skulls and Bones, and in a month long celebration, The Mysterious Order of the Skeleton Suit is checking out the Skeletons in their closets.
For an up-to-date direct connection with the Minions of M.O.S.S. check out the home page, or for you youngsters, you can follow the Facebook Fan Page or the Twitter feed.
To get the ball rolling, here’s Me and the Devil from Gil Scott-Heron (uploaded by XLRecordings)
For an up to date direct connection with the Minions of M.O.S.S. check out the home page, or for you youngsters, you can follow the Facebook Fan Page or the Twitter feed.
Country: United States Director: George Pan Cosmatos Starring: Sylvester Stallone, Brigette Nielsen, Brian Thompson, Reni Santoni, Andrew Robinson Music: Sylvester Levay
Cobra was made after Rambo II and Rocky IV, and before Rambo III, and directed by George Pan Cosmatos (who directed the aforementioned Rambo II). At the time of its release it was derided primarily for two things. The first, and most obvious, was that it was too violent. The second was, that at only 86 min in length, it was too short and the cinema going public were being ripped off. Funnily enough, looking at the film today, it doesn’t seem that violent at all. Most of the violence is suggestive rather than shown, and when a violent sequence does take place it is rather stylised.
Despite any criticism levelled at at the film at the time, when I saw it at the cinema (and I hate to admit, I saw it two times) I didn’t think the film was too bad at all. In fact, I thought it was a good fast paced thrill ride. And visually, the film was amazing. You’ve got to remember that this was made in the days before CGI and rampant use of green screen backgrounds. Sure some filters were used, but most of what you see on the screen was filmed in front of the camera.
In the film Sylvester Stallone plays a bad ass pop named Marion Cobretti (Marion possibly being a nod to John Wayne whose real name was Marion Morrison). Cobretti is a part of a special police unit called ‘The Zombie Squad’ – no, I am not making that up. And of course, he does not get along with his superiors. It is a time honoured trope in cop films, and can be seen in the Dirty Harry series, Brannigan and McQ and (with John Wayne), Lone Wolf McQuade and Code of Silence (with Chuck Norris) and in the Italian cop films of the 1970s especially those starring Maurizio Merli. Why would we expect Cobretti to be any different?
As the story begins, the city is in turmoil because a serial killer known as the ‘Night Slasher’ is cutting a bloody path through the population. There are no clues in the investigation, nor suspects, as the attacks appear to be random. One evening, Ingrid Knudsen (Brigette Nielsen – Stallone’s wife at the time) witnesses a ‘Night Slasher’ attack and reports it to the police. However the ‘Night Slasher’ is not just one psycho, but a fanatical group of fruitcakes who believe they are establishing a New World Order. That is, a New World Order, where the only prerequisite to join the group is a desire to kill people, and an ability to bang two axes together in time with the other fruitcakes. Later, to silence her, the crazies make an attempt on Ingrid’s life. Then Cobretti and his partner Chico are assigned to protect her.
The villain, the head ‘Night Slasher’ if you will, is played by Brian Thompson, who made a career out of this sort of role. Here, he doesn’t have much to say, but he looks menacing, and when he does finally speak, he spits the words out in a suitably vitriolic (and taunting) fashion.
One of the things that I really enjoyed about the film, were the Dirty Harry in-jokes. Firstly, Andrew Robinson plays Cobra’s boss – you know the one who doesn’t like his detectives methods. Robinson, of course, played the psychotic Scorpio in the original Dirty Harry. Also from Dirty Harry, Reni Santoni plays Cobra’s partner Chico – he was also Harry’s partner Chico. From Sudden Impact, there is a great line at the beginning of the film as a terrorist threatens to blow up a supermarket, Cobra, rather than in-tone “Go ahead, make my day”, he says, “Go ahead, I don’t shop here” – which at the time was rather funny.
A Running Duck - Australian paperback edition
Cobra is based on a book called Fair Game by Paula Gosling – although published in Australia as A Running Duck. However the book and film are nothing alike – the only similarity being that they are both stories about a cop who is assigned to protect an innocent woman. After reading the book, it is possible to see why Stallone was drawn to Gosling’s story though – in Fair Game, the hero is an ex-Vietnam sniper, which almost aligns the character with Rambo. It’s almost like ‘what Rambo did after the war’. But none of that made it into the script of Cobra. Even the character names are different. The hero in the book was named Malchek and the girl was named Clare Randell. Although it has been twenty years since I read the book, from memory, it seemed pretty good – which means it is pretty ripe for a remake as none of the story actually made it into the film.
Watching the film today, it seems a very 80s in its style, its look, and its cringe inducing music. And in the action stakes, it has been surpassed by films such as Die Hard which brought something new to the tired cop thriller. And that was the thing, the strength, of Cobra upon its initial release was that it was a shot in the arm to a genre which had been popular in the 1970s but was now running out of legs. But Cobra still had its foot in the old school camp and now that it style has dated its impact is severely diminished.
As I implied at the top, I thought Cobra was a good film – but today, it is almost hard to sit through. I want to say great things about it, but that would be nostalgia talking, and not a true reflection on viewing the film today. Obviously, with the success of The Expendables there is a lot of nostalgia for Stallone’s early work, but I feel some of that is misplaced and looking back with rose coloured glasses – and Cobra may be one such example.
Release Year: 2011 Country: Canada Director: Jason Eisener Writers: John Davies, Jason Eisener, Rob Cotterill Starring: Rutger Hauer, Molly Dunsworth, Brian Downey, Gregory Smith, Nick Bateman, Jeremy Akerman Cinematography: Karim Hussain Music: Adam Burke, Darius Holbert, Russ Howard III, The Obsidian Orchestra Producers: Chris Bell, Rob Cotterill, Niv Fichman, Paul Gross, Kevin Kritst, Andrea Raffaghello, Frank Siracusa
Hobo With a Shotgun owes its existence to Quentin Tarrantino and Robert Rodriguez’s Grindhouse films. While I like the Grindhouse project, perhaps Planet Terror a bit more than Death Proof, are they really what they purport to be? Are they Grindhouse films? However, that’s a question for later, what we’re looking at is how Hobo and the Grindhouse films are connected.
Those you have seen Grindhouse – or singularly Planet Terror would be aware of the faux trailer for Machete. The trailer proved so popular that an actual film was made, based on the incidents shown in the trailer. Now Machete cannot be really called a good film, but it was fast paced and fun and delivered everything that was promised in the trailer. But there were other trailers beside Machete.
Upon Grindhouse’s release, as a publicity gimmick, a competition was held to create a Grindhouse style trailer. The winner of this competition, was for a fictitious film called Hobo With a Shotgun. Allegedly, this trailer was incorporated into the Grindhouse program in North America – although, I have not seen this trailer myself.
Now, several years later a film has been made based on the trailer, the big difference being that Rutger Hauer is playing the titular hobo. And that’s where I come into the story. As an Australian, I was unaware of the trailer competition, and therefore unaware of Hobo With a Shotgun’s backstory. All I knew was that there was a new film called Hobo With a Shotgun and it starred Rutger Hauer. Those two points were all it was required to sell me.
Now I like watching trash and exploitation pictures. I’ll watch practically any type of ‘ploitation’ picture, be it Blaxploitation, Bruceplotation, Nunsploitation, Rednexploitation, MadMaxploitation, anything really…and therefore my standards aren’t very high. Violence, Sex and Sleaze are old friends and it takes a lot for me to be disgusted. But Hobo With a Shotgun came close to crossing that line. It is a violent, repugnant piece of work, that has no redeeming features at all. But I seem to be alone in that opinion, with the internet buzz suggesting that the film is a genre classic. Maybe I am just getting old.
I think I draw the line at violence being perpetrated against children. I know cinema is all make believe and no actual children were harmed, but when the villains of the piece, torched a bus load of children with a flame thrower, I thought the film went too far. This was after a scene, where a paedofile in a Santa suit is seen driving off with a boy in the back seat, banging on the rear window, begging for help, while the townsfolk ignore him. These aren’t gory scenes by this film’s standards, but the themes encompassed are simply abhorrent. And they don’t add to the story at all either. The bus scene could have just as easily been a load of adults, and the same emotional content – that being, making the the viewer hate the villains that bit more – could have been achieved.
The film opens with an un-named Hobo (Rutger Hauer) hitching a lift on a cargo train. The train pulls into Hope Town – although the sign at the limits has been tagged and now says Scum Town. Later, a police officer refers to the city as Fuck Town. Either way, this city is not a friendly place, and in some ways echoes the village, ‘The Unhappy Place’ in Guilio Questi’s Django Kill: If You Live Shoot. Immediately the Hobo is a witness to a strange event on the streets. A man, whose hands have been tied, runs through the street with a thick circular collar around his neck. This collar just so happens to be the same width as a manhole cover. This man asks the town folk on the streets to untie his hands, but everybody ignores him. The citizens live in fear and don’t want to get involved.
Cars race into the street from opposite ends, blocking the man’s progress. From the vehicles step underworld kingpin, The Drake (Brian Downey), and his two delinquent sons, Slick (Gregory Smith) and Ivan (Nick Bateman). It turns out that the hunted man is The Drake’s younger brother, and somehow he has offended his criminally minded sibling. No explanation is really offered, but as punishment, the younger brother is marched into the middle of the street where he is lowered into a manhole, where his collar locks him into place. His head is now the only part of his body visible. Then a barbed wire noose is placed around his head, while the other end is tied to a car. On The Drake’s signal, the car speeds off, and his brothers is decapitated sending a shower of blood high into the sky. If the scene wasn’t fucked up enough, then a girl in a bikini and a white fur coat starts to dance in the shower of blood.
The town folk return to their business and the hobo moves on. Later, the hobo finds himself outside The Drake’s nightclub, which is more like a torturous amusement park. The viewer is introduced to the sort of fun that is had inside, by a visual of a man being forcibly held down on a dodge-em car track, when two cars plow into his head from opposite sides. His head disintegrates in a balloon of blood.
The hobo enters the club and watches from the shadows, and sees a young hooker, named Abby (Molly Dunsworth) picked up by Slick. She thinks it’s an opportunity to earn some decent money. But Slick is pretty perverted, and things quickly get out of hand. But before things get really ugly, the hobo steps into the fray and knocks Slick out. He claims to be making a citizens arrest.
The hobo drags Slick to the police station. However the hobo is not received politely. The police chief is in cahoots with The Drake, and he frees Slick. Then Slick, with Ivan’s help, kick the shit out of the hobo and carve a message into his chest. But they don’t kill him. They simply throw his battered body into a garbage heap.
Later the battered and bleeding hobo staggers along a line of streetwalking girls, looking for Abby. He finds her, and she takes him back to her apartment, and she patches him up – and allows him a good night’s sleep on her bed. However, in the morning he is gone, and that would be it, but the hobo has a dream to buy a lawn mower and start his own business. He goes to a pawn shop to enquire about a mower, but before he has a chance, three hoodlums barge in, threatening the customers and demanding money.
The hobo decides enough is enough, and picks up a shotgun from the wall (strange it should be loaded). Then he begins to dispense his own unique brand of shotgun justice. But it doesn’t end here. The hobo marches out onto the street and starts killing all the riff-raff. Soon, his actions have caught the public and the media’s attention, and he becomes somewhat of a people’s hero.
Of course, this does not sit well with The Drake and his boys and they put a bounty on the hobo’s head. In fact, they put a bounty on all homeless people. So ordinary folk, with a mob mentality, suddenly start killing the homeless folk, man, woman or child, and with each death, they get closer to finding and catching the hobo.
When a corrupt police officer tries to force Abby into performing sexual acts, the hobo steps in, providing his unique justice, and then the two of them escape back to her apartment. The hobo relates his lawn mowing business dream, and Abby says that she will go with him, and they can both start a new life together in a new town. But before they can leave, Skip and Ivan turn up – violence, trouble and a large amount of bloodletting ensues.
The only thing I can think to compare this too is the current crop of Japanese gorefests, such as Tokyo Gore Police, Vampire Girl and Frankenstein Girl and many others. The Japanese films cross the lines of good taste too, but there a sense of style, and even professionalism in their productions, which can be admired, even if you don’t particularly like the film. Hobo With a Shotgun does not display that professionalism. The acting is amateur at best, particularly from Gregory Smith and Nick Bateman who play Slick and Ivan – two of the central characters. Brian Downey as The Drake only fairs marginally better. I think he can act, but in this instance chose to go widely over the top – embarrassingly so.
The gore effects thankfully aren’t CGI, but they are crude and simplistic, with almost balloon or garden hose delivery systems. If that’s your thing, then this film delivers everything from decapitations, machete slashing, stomachs slit open by baseball bats with razorblades embedded in them, hacksaws to the neck, hands being vaporised in lawnmower blades, and of course, multiple shotgun blasts.
Defining exactly what an exploitation picture is, is very difficult. I guess they have to have some exploitable quality, and I guess Hobo With a Shotgun exploits star Rutger Hauer. I love Rutger, and will watch the bulk of his work knowing full well it isn’t very good. And here I have done so again, and in saying that, may I suggest that in its way Hobo With a Shotgun is a more successful Grindhouse exploitation flick than Death Proof, Planet Terror or Machete. These last three films provide a decent nights entertainment, whether it be at the cinema or in front of the television at home. Many people, myself included, will watch them again and again. However, most likely I will never watch Hobo With a Shotgun again. It is a film that has exploited my fondness for Hauer films. I watched it solely because his name was on the poster, and now I feel cheated – possibly exploited – and definitely unclean.
The thing is, readers don’t come to P2K looking for reviews of family friendly cinema. If you have done so, I apologize for the pictorial content. Most visitors here are cult and exploitation film savvy, and like myself are going to hear about Hobo With a Shotgun and want to watch it for themselves to make up their own minds. I understand and appreciate that, but if I may be so arrogant to suggest that maybe this one to steer clear of… who am I kidding, you’ll watch it anyway.
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Country: United States
This film was a video classic when I was a kid. My friends and I would hire it out repeatedly. In Australia it was known as The Street Fighter, which was allegedly the film’s original title. However, it was changed in the United States to avoid confusion with Sonny Chiba’s The Street Fighter which had just been released. The fight scene that we loved as kids was not climatic fight scene with Nick Dimitri – although that was pretty good – but the cage fight against Jim Henry, played by Robert Tessier. You’d recognise Tessier if you saw him. He was in a lot of 1970s action films (especially with Burt Reynolds) – usually as a big bad bald man. And guess what he plays here? Yep, a big bad bald man. In the fight scenes, he lowers his head so his opponent, when he punches, would hit the top of his bald skull, and the blow would be deflected. He also grins like a Chesire cat. This is one guy, who really enjoys hurting people, and he is the perfect opponent for Chaney.
