Saucy Science Fiction and Fantasy!

It’s Saucy Fantasy and Adventure Time!

By Leigh Wood

 

Be it science fiction, futuristic, fantasy, classic, camp, jungle, or pre-historic, these saucy romps are so bad its good glorious!

Barbarella –Producer Dino De Laurentiis (Conan the Barbarian) and director Roger Vadim’s (And God Created Woman) 1968 adaptation of Jean-Claude Forest’s comics immediately sets its camp sci-fi tone with a shiny, zero gravity, striptease and never looks back. The brassy sixties theme and score perfectly match the strangely tasteful nudity and fun fur ship interiors – although that has to be a bitch to clean! The bad SF designs, poor flying effects, ugly color, and psychedelic lighting are certainly dated, too. Awkward plastics, pleather get ups, and lots of tight tights further establish the kinky sex experimentation and whiff of bondage, lesbianism or fem-dom and liberation – toking up on “Essence of Man,” the Excessive Machine, and all that. I’m not really a Jane Fonda (Cat Ballou) fan, but surely she was very into personal grooming back in the day, for her costumes leave little else to the imagination. We don’t see all the sex glory, but it’s amazing the before and after saucy humor is delivered with such a straight face considering the preposterous technical dialogue and tongue in cheek tone. However, it is odd to have the feral kids, their ugly dolls, and the suggestive biting amid the juicy, and this kind of bad futuristic design is what gave the science fiction of the time a juvenile bad name. Poor editing and slow ass montages of bubblicious space travel and ridiculous skiing also hamper the bemusement. We get the generally pointless A to B adventures and excuses to have sex, but at 98 minutes, the lack of reason or rhythm from one scene to the next becomes overlong and tiresome. Fortunately, the goofy ship angles and wild filmmaking remain fun and mature audiences are fully aware of the viewing treats here. John Phillip Law (The Golden Voyage of Sinbad) has such nice…wings! Maybe one has to be stoned to appreciate what’s happening here – for while I can absolutely understand why its seventies re-releases raised its cult fame, I’ve never been quite sure what the heck is going on in this movie! I dare say kids can watch a television edit or the PG version purely for the hysterics and not perceive the innuendo or kinky overtone. Duran Duran anyone?

Barbarian Queen – Bad dialogue, anachronistic language, old speaketh names, Valley Girl style, and poor English sound set the campy mood for this boobalicious 1985 Roger Corman produced Amazon vengeance tale. An awkward opening rape and more sexual violence scenery make it somewhat tough to enjoy this film, and yet I dare say the torture scenes are bizarrely fun for bondage fans as are the woefully bad but brief gladiator fights. The rapacious, bodice-ripping titillation may be strange, but it is probably accurate for the Roman setting. Besides, it’s nice to see the nudity and gore instead of a kid friendly, magic filled fantasy and there are a few amusing brothel scenes and orgies, too. Granted, it would have been sexier to see the gals kick ass more, but the story isn’t that bad. It’s nothing new for sure, but there is some attempted character development and moments of sentiment with children and exiled villagers. Unfortunately, bad acting makes it tough to take the opening aggression or any dramatic turns seriously. The action and fighting move quickly and aren’t bad – in fact, they are well choreographed and edited – but small-scale designs and low budget toy swords keep the 70 minutes kitschy. The costumes are also eighties over the top colorful yet fittingly fantasy furs and sexy skimpy leather. What does it matter if you can’t always tell one annoying chick from the next? We don’t need the finite details on the big rebels versus bad guys finale, either. If we weren’t in the middle of a misguided, slo-mo, ridiculously CGI revival with poor fair such as the Conan reboot and Wrath of the Titans, I would say this deserves to be redone properly. Sadly, some audiences may also tune in now thanks to Lana Clarkson’s murder and the subsequent Phil Spector trials. This one may not do the genre any favors and shouldn’t be taken too seriously, but fans of the original Conan or The Beastmaster can enjoy this Showgirls sword and sorcery good time. 

Death Stalker – Clarkson bared more bod – I kid you not her costume is a cape and a g-string – in this previous 1983 Corman romp full of magical amulets, mystical swords, and drunken chalices. Bad dialogue, woeful names, and a confusing quests amid a tournament at the local evil wizard’s place compound the plot troubles here, and poor character motivation doesn’t help. The ripped Rick Hill (Today’s F.B.I.) only wants to fight, denies a request to rescue a princess, but then accepts this power trip instead. The back and forth riddles are tiresome and the titular hero doesn’t do much except bag some babes, however, that’s better than the nasty, lecherous pig cavemen having all the action. Everyone is so dirty and scantily clad that it’s tough to tell who or what is going on – although the early and often T n A, chicks in medieval hot tubs, chicks in cages, and mud wrestling dames make up the difference. Fun set pieces, an amazing amount of prehistoric g-strings, lots of horses, a warty witch, and an eyeball in a cauldron also accent the sacrificial orgies, near bestiality creatures, and voyeuristic cave troll turned horny old man. Though the music is often out of place – dramatic swells, comical tunes, or ethereal arias happen at the wrong times – and the magical aspects could have been better, voice actor Bernard Erhard makes for a would be intriguing villain. He turns one of his henchmen into playmate Barbi Benton! The fight scenes seem strangely slow and take too long when there’s no room to spare in this 76 minutes; by time we get to the warriors tournament, there’s little reason to care. Yet the thinly plotted, bemusingly so bad its good is like porn without the explicit sex. Is this about the quest, the tournament, or bagging as many babes as possible? Who cares? The magical something or other whatnot is corny for sure, but this remains quite the watchable adult fantasy. 

Sheena: Queen of the Jungle – Bond Girl, later day Charlie’s Angels star, and That 70’s Show mom Tanya Roberts has a good time in this shockingly PG 1984 comic book stretch. The well done opening fifteen minutes of jungle exploration and orphaned origins is actually played straight with no indication of the campy fun to come. Slow motion Tanya riding a zebra, however, quickly changes that! The mystical, sensual synthesizer music over the would-be serious action scenes are as out of place as the overlong slo-mo, and Roberts’ famously husky and sexy voice doesn’t match the near spiritual telepathic talk of the land or culture clash dialogue. Granted, she has an obligatory insipid romance and lots more silly stuff to do, but Roberts looks swinging on ropes strong and bareback riding capable. Besides, the main attraction here is her bemusing total exposures, if you get my meaning. The wild storyline is quite innocent and timeless, too, but unfortunately, the dated eighties designs, contemporary lingo, standard assassination ploys, and ruinous mining on the healing land plots detract from the exotic fun and ruin cool villainess France Zobda and classy Shaman Elizabeth of Toro. The cast is racially appropriate rather than white washed, but the coup-laden western-esque and corrupt Tigora kingdom versus the peaceful Zambouli tribe faux political story feels very poorly written considering the already delicate East Africa history. It’s not well acted or clearly developed, and the PG audience to whom this too long two hours was targeted wouldn’t care about these kinds of complexities anyway. The largely mother/daughter feminism does work well, and this should have been a straightforward good and evil origin story introducing the comic foil reporters to the jungle or a defending the earth against ruthless mining mercenaries tale. Though grainy photography and mixed wide and full screen formatting make some scenes look unusual, cool elephants, big cats, snakes, hippos, monkeys, and dynamite Kenya locations, grasslands, and sunsets add a delightful sense of wonder. Tribal nudity and some rituals or animal action may be too intense for small children, but kids can enjoy the innocent charm just as much as late night adults will skip to the saucy parts. I dare say I’d like another new Sheena if it could be done with a realistically strong chick, a hunky supporting guy, and no CGI.  Till then, it’s best not to let the actual story ruin the beauty here.

Tarzan: The Ape Man – John Phillip Law joins hunky Miles O’Keeffe (Waxwork) in this 1981 John Derek directed vehicle naturally focusing on his absolutely sexy and pretty to look at wife Bo Derek (10). We open with Edgar Rice Burroughs references and a fun MGM lion roaring Johnny Weismuller calls, but the narration is pointless and establishing travels over the lengthy credits make the Parker back story sooo slooowww. The camp tone, however, is apparent in Bo’s entrance, and the 1910/quasi eighties safari style and wispy white under things accent her delightful physique – as do those nude sunset swims and bathing montages. Antagonist Richard Harris (The Field) gets his junk about, too, but his fatherly scenes with Derek are too weird. The childlike conversation amid her rough hose down and naked tribal paint job is just…ew. While the role is in keeping with the slightly more mature written Tarzan themes – I’ve never understood why these books are classified as children’s material – it also reeks of erroneous white savior knows best for the primitive jungle and doesn’t work with the off on the wrong foot attention to Jane here. Derek is still a damsel in distress and looks too modern or old for this ingénue perspective, and the meandering pace, ridiculous slow motion, and cut away montage battle action takes half the movie to get to Tarzan. John Derek lingers on his own cinematography yet inserts out of place, wide-eyed up close Bo shots. You can have both female discovery and epic scope, but not when your husband is the director (awesome Ten Commandments Joshua though he is). Fortunately, beautiful landscapes, silhouetted frames, glistening water reflections, Sri Lanka locales, lion action, and snake squeezings detract from the stilted dialogue and Bo fan’s girling over Tarzan. She feels him up while he’s asleep and peels a banana while speculating on his virginity! I’m surprised there aren’t more saucy jungle movies – the erotic opportunities and loincloths seem rampant. Though the Burroughs estate understandably wants to keep the brand Disney friendly, O’Keeffe’s tiny loincloth doesn’t exactly fit and his beefcake is eighties laughable beneath that pre-requisite headband. With all the dry skin, wet skin, painted skin, tender love, and rough touching – what’s that orangutan doing? – this is as soft core as they come. Enjoy the bevy of gratuitous eye candy here, watch on mute, or skip to the naughty parts – this picture makes no sense otherwise.

A View To A Kill

A View to A Kill Still A Guilty Pleasure

By Kristin Battestella

Despite my better judgment, I like the 1983 swansong of Roger Moore as British uber spy James Bond in A View To A Kill. Taking nothing but the contrived title from an Ian Fleming short story, A View To A Kill boasts very dated computers, Duran Duran music, a freaky Grace Jones as May Day, and a senior citizen Moore. Oft considered one of the worst Bond outings, for me A View To A Kill is so bad, it’s good.

007 (Moore) tracks computer microchips to Zorin Industries and uses Zorin’s (Christopher Walken) interest in horses to infiltrate the ex KGB agent’s annual horse sale as James St. John Smythe. Bond-now as Stock, James Stock- and oil heiress Stacey Sutton (Tanya Roberts) trail Zorin to San Francisco and uncover his ‘Main Strike’ plan to blow the San Andreas Fault and destroy Silicon Valley. Along the way, Bond wrestles with henchwoman May Day (Grace Jones) and attempts to turn her sway from Zorin.

Well, let’s get the biggest hang up about A View to A Kill out of the way first. By golly, Roger Moore looks old. Old and what we would today call Botoxed. Perhaps in knock down drag outs with the boys, Moore’s elderly Bond might stand a chance. Unfortunately, against the strong and hard-core May Day and the soft and svelte Stacey Sutton, Moore looks too out of touch. When people claim that Moore is ‘sleepwalking’ through his tenure as Bond, this is the film they mean. Bond is almost a non-factor here. Being out witted by a juiced horse and a trick race track-in some ways I feel bad for Moore. Again his villain upstages him.

Best Supporting Actor Winner Christopher Walken (The Deer Hunter) steals A View To A Kill as megalomaniac Zorin. He plays the part to a T, and yet it so eighties clichéd and over the top. His platinum hair is still a delight a quarter of a century later. Zorin’s bizarre relationship with Grace Jones’ (Conan The Destroyer) strongwoman May Day adds to his creepiness, along with his unusual blend of insane genius and gentlemanly style. Unfortunately, Zorin’s use and abuse of May Day doesn’t leave room for the henchwoman to shine. Although her style was a little harsh then and still is now, Jones does make a few scenes play in her favor. Her penchant for death and strength is a little too frightening to be sexy, but it’s certainly memorable.

You can tell I’m an eighties baby since I think Tanya Roberts (The Beastmaster, That 70s Show) is a cool chica. Another Bond girl who doesn’t have much to do and actually doesn’t have a whole lot of screen time, but Roberts’ oil heiress turned geologist Stacey Sutton is one of the few pretty things in A View To A Kill. Her voice is a bit too husky marshmallow to be sprouting tech babble geological talk. But come on, by time we get to Sutton’s analysis of the plight, are you really paying attention to the plot?

Though the snowboarding styled opening sequence is still cool, A View To A Kill is in may ways, not just the end of the Moore era, but the changing of the Bond guard. Lois Maxwell shows her age and retires her role as Miss Moneypenny here. The neon opening credits mixed with the very popular at the time Duran Duran are trying too hard to be hip, and A View To A Kill’s closing tags do not mention which film is coming next. It’s as if veteran director John Glen and screenwriter Richard Mailbaum (late penner of 13 Bond pictures) peaked with a very old and proper Bond in his English riding boots and teeny saddle and little riding hat and didn’t know what to do next.  

Even though the dates of the films rollover, Connery was very much the Sixties ideal, Moore the seventies suave, and Dalton the eighties man in his brief appearances. Already Brosnan’s tenure is dated, and we’ve moved on to Daniel Craig-whose currently hot reboot will fall along the wayside in about fifteen years, too. In 1983, A View To A Kill was quite a violent picture, but the franchise has definitely gotten darker and more brutal since.

Yes it’s a little hokey, dated, and silly, and nearer the bottom of the Bond barrel, but A View To A Kill also exemplifies this long standing franchise. With all its faults, there is something about the innuendo, memorable scenes, and catch phrases that bring viewers back. Knowing how weak this outing is, I can still tune in to A View To A Kill, leave it play in the background, and take pause at the better scenes. Through all its good and bad, changes, and redos, I do believe there is something Bond for everyone.

A View To A Kill looks tame today on the violence and sex front, but its not quite viewing for the entire family. Older action fans can appreciate the early computers and Silicon Valley premise, and no doubt Bond fans already have A View To A Kill in their collections. If you’re a closeted Bond fan, come out with this one for some late night viewing. No one will know, I promise. Look for the DVD or forthcoming bluray if you dare.

The Beastmaster

What’s Not To Like in The Beastmaster?

By Kristin Battestella

 

It spawned two sequels and a syndicated television series, but according to mainstream audiences 1982’s The Beastmaster is nothing more than bad sword and sorcery and soft core drivel. I digress!

Before his royal parents are attacked by Maax (Rip Torn), Dar is magically transferred from his mother’s womb and then birthed from a cow by Maax’s witch. Maax fears the prophecy that he will die by the hand of King Zed’s (Rod Loomis) unborn son and wishes the child dead, but an old man (John Hammer) rescues the baby before he can be sacrificed. Dar (Marc Singer) is raised in a poor village, keeping his unique power to communicate with animals a secret. When his village is destroyed by the Juns-the warrior allies of Maax.-Dar vows vengeance. He journeys to Maax’s dark kingdom with the help of warrior Seth (John Amos), heir apparent Tal (Josh Milrad), slave girl Kiri (Tanya Roberts) and his animal guides- a panther, an eagle, and two ferrets. Together they will restore Zed and save his kingdom.

Rip Torn is so creepy cool as Maax. He has braids with skulls along with priests that regularly hang themselves if asked. And, he sacrifices children, too. We’re given the fanciful extremes, but we all know crooked power creeps like this who need to get their due. This was an A line cast back in the day, although Singer’s voice is a bit too modern in the beginning of the film. I suppose with such weak dialogue it matters not, but Roberts’ lines have plenty of marshmallow and double entrées to them. Once the scene is set, however, the old time speak finds its rhythm.

Josh Milrad as Tal is your usual early eighties boy fare, but John Amos’ Seth adds warrior wit, wise words, and a touch of humor to The Beastmaster. Maybe it wasn’t meant to be funny, but a big black man kicking ass and taking names while wearing some ancient BSDM gear just begs to be MST3Ked! At least Amos (Good Times, The West Wing) looks to be having fun with the role.

Oh by gosh by golly, it’s time for Tanya Roberts’ body. Also known as Oh by gosh by jingle, its time for Tanya Roberts to wiggle. Either way you see it, you do see it. I may hold lots of films or actors to a very high standard, so this may sound strange, but I like Tanya Roberts. From Charlie’s Angels, Sheena, A View to A Kill, and That’s 70s Show; I like her New York sassy, sexy, campy yet tough chick. I’m sure a lot of guys my age grew up on her soft core material. Ratings were different in 1982, and the non sexual bits (though bits nonetheless) rated PG then would definitely garner more hefty ratings today. The red headed Kiri has three boob and four possible muff shots, along with another two randomly topless chicks in the film-statistics for those that like that sort of thing. You also have to wonder about the toss away line that Kiri is Tal’s cousin, and therefore also Dar’s cousin. Kinky!

Fortunately for female fans of pre history beefcake, we also get almost the whole bean from the incredibly buff Marc Singer. After seeing The Beastmaster, I was always amazed that Singer’s jeans and jacket didn’t rip off during V and Dallas. As buff as the hotties are today, Dar gives them all a run for the money in his itsy bitsy loin cloth and leather band aids. There’s the obligatory sweaty barbarian training montages in real time and slow motion to match Singer’s eighties hair cut-along with some tears from the big man.

(On a really useless note, I’ve never been able to confirm which witch woman is wife of Wayne Gretzky and sometimes actress Janet Jones. As a die hard hockey fan, this has always bugged me.)

Now that the naughty bits are out of the way, the thin set up of The Beastmaster comes through. Writer and director Don Coscarelli (Phantasm) and co writer Paul Pepperman establish the situations early with the opening scenes and set ups, but the magic and relationships and whatnot become a little confusing each time the quest is repeated. The locales are thankfully beautiful, covering up any slim story. Unfortunately most of the film is too dark. The video quality was poor then, and the digital transfer only helps a touch. The darkness and torches are cool though, authentic somehow. They didn’t have fancy lights before time you know.

Folks who caught The Beastmaster ad nauseum on TBS and other late night reruns are, however, used to bad cuts and commercials. So what if the magical elements and brief special effects are weak and the lighting is bad? The climatic battle between Dar and the Jun horde is well lit by firelight and choreographed and paced expertly. For a freak who talks to animals, Dar and his friends don’t do too bad.

The animals are great, too. I must admit. I can’t tell them apart, but the cute and cunning Kodo and Podo made me want ferrets growing up. You wouldn’t think they could help much, but these little guys are quite significant. The roars of the panther-really a tiger painted black-his action scenes, and his big cat loveableness almost make the show. As I kid of course I tried to imitate Dar’s call for his eagle Sharak, but now it is one if the hokiest things about The Beastmaster. At least the film takes the time to set up all the animal circumstances, powers, and personalities. Today it would probably be done in the quick prologue of a ninety minute kid’s fantasy if at all.

The score from Emmy Winner Lee Holdridge (Mists of Avalon) is one of the highlights for The Beastmaster. It’s a great classical composition, with all the soft somber parts and bombing crescendos in the right places. It compliments the scenery and action while rousing up images of long lost times, heroes, and places. Sometimes I watch The Beastmaster just because I like the music.

 

Fans of the fantasy genre and its sword and sorcery subset can watch anything-from the woeful Krull to Willow. The greats are indeed fewer and far between than the ill and low budget. (Dare me to review Red Sonja. I own the DVD!) Can you name me a truly stellar strictly sword and sorcery film? I had to laugh when I Love the 80s pitted The Beastmaster versus Conan. On strength, looks, sidekicks, and babes who would win? It’s a tough, but amusing call.

I don’t understand these Beastmaster and the like naysayers. Can’t we accept an attempt an some cool fantasy and mystical folks? I don’t understand viewers who complain that the Cyclops and the Medusa from Clash of The Titans look stupid or that the Ray Harryhausen effects from other classics like The 7^th Voyage of Sinbad no longer work. Hogwash. It’s a fantasy movie, sit down and enjoy while you can. Great fights, heroic themes, cake for everyone. What’s not to like?

The Special Edition DVD appears out of print, but for the die hard fans, the documentaries and commentaries are necessary. The standard DVD is also tough to find, but affordable and again worth it for behind the scenes treats and the uncut 118 minute film.

So The Beastmaster isn’t perfect, but it’s a campy, entertaining, fanciful ride. Perhaps tame enough today for tweens and up, fans of old can indulge themselves again or attempt to inspire the next generation into liking eighties sword and sorcery B flicks. It could happen!