MATINEE IDOL - BLU-RAY REVIEW

Written and produced by the distinguished and highly-resourceful David F. Friedman, Henri Pachard’s MATINEE IDOL (1984) arrived considerably later than many of Friedman’s mostly-memorable run of sexploitation films from the ’60s and early ’70s, and despite his dogged persistence to avoid working in hardcore films (“It just wasn’t any fun”), Friedman still retained much the of same playful mindset here as he did in many of his earlier, strictly softcore films.  One of the only four hardcore titles produced by Friedman, MATINEE IDOL is considered by some to be the best of the lot, which is all the better since it’s now been made available as a pristine new Dual Format Blu-ray from those indefatigable individuals at Vinegar Syndrome.

At Sensational International Pictures, producers Bernard Kuntz ([!] David F. Friedman) and Harvey Cox ([!!] Elmer Fox) find themselves in a bit of a conundrum when their two biggest stars, Lance Hardy (John Leslie) and Linda Hand (Jesie St. James) wind up continually squabbling with one another, which eventually causes production of their latest ‘sextravaganza’, entitled Matinee Idol, to grind to a screeching halt.  Linda subsequently befriends her pool-boy, Bud Cochran (Herschel Savage) in hopes of grooming him as her potential new co-star, while Kuntz and Cox (!!!) become smitten with wannabe starlet Daisy Cheney (Angel), after she answers an open casting-call by the producers in hopes of replacing the increasingly unmanageable Linda.  But when the unfinished Matinee Idol’s proposed distributors demand a ‘Hardy Hand picture’ in order to recoup their monetary outlay, Lance and Linda may have to set aside their differences and finish the delayed skin-flick just the same; a professional move which might quite possibly rekindle their badly-frayed relationship in the process.

This is very much a comedy, and Friedman’s lighthearted script – which is loaded with his usual innuendos and (quote) “well-known puns” – takes a fond, nostalgic look at Tinseltown, even as it’s viewed through the ’80s skin-biz; and in that respect, it’s much like an updated version of Richard Kanter’s STARLET (1969), which he also produced.  In a nice touch for those ‘in-the-know,’ posters for much of his earlier work – such as SPACE THING and THAR SHE BLOWS (both 1968) – adorn the walls of S.I.P.’s head office, which also functions as their casting office (“It ain’t easy, but somebody’s gotta do it!”).

Veteran adult stars Jesie St. James and John Leslie are both excellent as the quarrelling couple, and at times, as they clash with one another, their behavior emulates those of their equivalents in the zany screwball comedies of the ’30s and ’40s; while, typical of the genre, Angel and Herschel Savage have a few surprises of their own in store for them.  As expected, Friedman essentially plays himself – or rather, more accurately, a broad caricature of himself – as the cigar-chomping co-owner of S.I.P., and Elmer Fox is the more-cynical of the two business partners, who firmly believes his actors have (quote) “got their brains between their legs!”  In what are essentially extended cameos, Colleen Brennen (a.k.a. former softcore star, Sharon Kelly) appears as Linda’s rambunctious friend, eager to sample her new man, Bud, whereas Kay Parker, as S.I.P.’s secretary, has a stab at Lance’s lance right atop the desk in Kuntz’ office. 

Scanned in 2K from the original camera negative, Vinegar Syndrome’s Blu-ray is, without question, a terrific transfer of an already good-looking film and, to be honest, there are no real issues to speak of.  The DTS-HD MA 1.0 mono audio also sounds very good, coming through just fine both in the many fast-paced dialogue scenes and during the – ahem – sexual shenanigans.  Extras are sparse, but the real treat here is an archival audio interview with Friedman conducted by Casey Scott via telephone, which more or less doubles as an audio commentary that lasts the entire length of the feature film! Anyone who’s ever listened to any of the articulate and animated Friedman’s previous interviews and/or commentaries knows full well what a raconteur he is, and this epic interview is no exception.  He begins by discussing the uneasy, game-changing transition from softcore to hardcore product and (quote) “the end of a very nice little business,” even though he had no real moral objections to the shift.  He also talks about the formation of the Adult Film Association of America in 1968 at a Hotel in Kansas City, which also included the owner of Distribpix, Arthur Morowitz and genre director Donn Davis, among others.  Of course, Friedman also has many stories about a number of people in the business, including directors Chris Warfield, John Hayes and producer Dan Cady.  In addition, the legendary sexploitation producer reveals that it was Bill Castleman (his line producer and credited director [as William Allen Castleman] on such Friedman-produced flicks as his sleazy rock-musicians-and-groupies potboiler BUMMER! [1973] and his violent ‘Indian revenge’ actioner JOHNNY FIRECLOUD [1975]) who helped convince him to edge his way into making films that weren’t (quote) “any fun”, at least to Friedman. Fans of his work, on the other hand, may be of a distinctly different opinion!  An original, teaser-type trailer finishes off the extras.

Though produced in the ’80s, at the tail-end of the “porno chic” era, MATINEE IDOL appropriately enough, patterns itself along the lines of Friedman’s heydays in the business and, as such, is a sufficiently engaging film – one which now, more than ever, can be fully appreciated thanks to Vinegar Syndrome’s highly-welcome Blu-ray.  Order it directly from Vinegar Syndrome or DiabolikDVD.

THAT'S SEXPLOITATION - BLU-RAY REVIEW

Faced with the rather daunting task of compiling a (quote) “visual history of over 40 years of sexploitation cinema”, BASKET CASE (1982) and BRAIN DAMAGE (1988) director Frank Henenlotter – along with ‘The Mighty Monarch of Exploitation’, David F. Friedman (1923-2011) – have, thanks to the massive archives of Mike Vraney (1958-2014), the late producer/owner-operator of Something Weird Video (SWV), created one of the most thorough and definitive documentaries on this fascinating subject. 

The doc is hosted by both Friedman (from his home in Anniston, Alabama) and Henenlotter, who were long-time associates of Vraney and helped propel SWV into the company it is today. Just a couple of years prior to his death, Friedman was in poor health at the time his interview herein was shot, but, as always, his memory was still sharp as ever and, despite his health problems, nonetheless remained one of the finest raconteurs, which certainly helps as he guides us through this once-forgotten, at times outlandish – if incredibly diverse – genre from film history. 

Covering everything from silent films – including footage from WHY THE GIRLS WALK HOME (192?) and UNCLE SI AND THE SIRENS (192?) – and early talkies, Mr. Friedman charts the inception of the (quote) “very stupid and very rigid” Hays Code during this time, which was put into place by that morally-conscious organization, the Legion of Decency, which in effect helped in creating an entire market for (s)exploitation cinema, because the “sexploiteers” weren’t bound by any code.  Sex hygiene films, “Goona-Goona” films (featuring topless natives), “monkey sex” (Gorillas chasing topless natives), smokers (early stag films), Sinerama cuties (early loops that played in Arcades), burlesque; the colourful nudist camp films and nudie-cuties – which Henenlotter freely and gleefully admits are “the stupidest films on the planet” – are just some of the subgenres covered before things move onward into the (quote) “prime time” of sexploitation: the Sexy ’Sixties.  Nudies, roughies (“…more violence than sex, but the sex has got to be the raison d’être for the violence”), lesbian flicks, acid pictures and, finally, the death knell of the sexploitation era: the so-called “white-coaters”, the first hardcore “blue movies” disguised as “sex hygiene” films.

Even at 136 minutes, Henenlotter’s THAT’S SEXPLOITATION never even comes close to outstaying its welcome as it moves from one subgenre to another with ease and perfect clarity, and thankfully, both Friedman and Henenlotter not only add a ton of historical context, but at the same time, they never take the films they love too seriously, providing an amusing, enlightening and completely engrossing experience for both fans and newcomers alike.  The runtime is filled with tons of rather unbelievable anecdotes, including one about a feisty and bigoted city censor in Memphis, Tennessee who, at the time, was particularly incensed about racial integration in film – he actually censored the Little Rascals’ “Our Gang” due to Buckwheat! – which sort of led to the strangely-titled “Goona-Goona” pictures featuring topless natives only.  Other interesting tidbits include one about the cutting of various films due to the differing state censor boards, whose official jurisdictions varied, which resulted in a number of differently-edited/censored film prints circulating around the various regions, and in some cases, the actual shooting of two distinctly different versions, as is highlighted in TS by a fascinating scene-by-scene comparison of Eddie Kaye’s ESCORT GIRL (1943), featuring scenes from both the “cool” and “hot” version.  Later, Mr. Friedman also discusses Walter Bibo’s GARDEN OF EDEN (1954), the first nudist camp film, which ran into problems with the NY censor board.  After a prodigious court ruling where “nudity” in and of itself wasn’t deemed obscene, the floodgates opened, whereupon Times Square was inundated with nudist camp films. However, as for the new nudist genre’s poor pioneer Bibo, who spent all his time fighting in court, he ended up missing the boat himself, although, according to Friedman, “…he opened A LOT of doors!”  His recollections from the set of some of these rather innocuous films are also quite priceless, which he equates to, “a cold storage room of a meat-packing plant”, so they had to (quote), “salt the mines” and hire models to help make these films a little more digestible to the paying public.  Although always the consummate storyteller, Mr. Friedman really gets into his groove when discussing most of his films from the ’60s, a section which includes discussions about Stacey Walker (of A SMELL OF HONEY, A SWALLOW OF BRINE [1966] fame), Marsha Jordan, roughies (“The anti-nudie cuties”) and acid (LSD/psychedelia-themed) pictures.  He also discusses the formation of the Adult Film Association of America (AFAA) in 1968, which largely assisted distributors and filmmakers with their legal issues, sometimes providing them with readymade “kits” to help with their defense in court.

Of course, being a “visual history”, this doc is highlighted by an absolute treasure trove of film clips culled from the SWV archives, which includes the usual staples like Doris Wishman’s NUDE ON THE MOON (1961) and BLAZE STARR GOES NUDIST (1962), Lee Frost’s HOUSE ON BARE MOUNTAIN (1962) and The DEFILERS (1965), Jonathan Lucas’ TRADER HORNEE (1970, “This is a show for the broad-mined.  I know you all got broads on the mind!”), Michael Findlay’s FLESH trilogy, the OLGA films, a great selection from their massive collection of nudie cutie loops and many, many, many more goodies besides, which are best left as a surprise for both the uninitiated and the seasoned SWV collector.  As usual, the doc also incorporates loads of great footage depicting old theatres and great marquees, including some for many of the seedier Storefront Theaters that began to appear in the early ’70s.

Released theatrically in 2013, THAT’S SEXPLOITATION finally made its bow this year on both Blu-ray and 2-disc DVD courtesy of Severin, and considering the clips are of varying image quality due to the vintage source materials, it all looks pretty damn amazing.  Of course, the newly-shot footage is razor-sharp, and even though many of the film clips were sourced in SD, many of them are in HD as well, so the picture quality varies from clip to clip, but to be truly honest, it doesn’t matter one bit.  The biggest extra is a very relaxed but highly informative commentary from director Henenlotter and Mike Vraney’s wife Lisa Petrucci, who discuss all sorts of great tidbits, including Henenlotter’s first meeting with Vraney; the project’s genesis, which was begun by Friedman in 1973, but was later aborted; the pilfering of Movielab, which resulted in a number of amazing finds, including such SWV staples such as Emilio Vieyra’s The CURIOUS DR. HUMPP (1969), and lots more.  It’s a great listen (and watch).  Like many of the ‘official’ SWV DVDs from Image, Severin has also decked-out their release with over three-and-a-half hours of short films and condensed versions of stuff like Michael Findlay’s The SIN SYNDICATE (1965) and Joe Sarno’s MOONLIGHTING WIVES (1966).  The documentary’s official trailer rounds out the plethora of extras.  Exceptional in every way, THAT’S SEXPLOITATION comes highly recommended, and warrants many repeat viewings, especially via Severin’s handsome, extras-laden release.  Order it from Severin films here or from Amazon here and remember, “You’re all dirty!”

LOVE CAMP 7 - DVD REVIEW

Australian DVD ad-blurb: “Before there was Ilsa, there was LOVE CAMP 7!”

Long before Ilsa inflicted her own brand of pain and punishment in Don Edmonds’ now infamous ILSA, SHE WOLF OF THE SS (1974), prolific producer David F. Friedman, who produced ILSA under the guise of Herman Traeger, also produced one of the earliest examples of this dubious subgenre, Lee Frost’s LOVE CAMP 7 (1968).  Produced alongside frequent collaborator Bob Cresse (billed here as R.W. Cresse) and Frost’s usual producer of choice, Wes Bishop, LOVE CAMP 7 was yet another ’60s ‘roughie’ (a subgenre of exploitation cinema that featured equal doses of sex mixed with violence) set against the backdrop of a Nazi brothel.  Along with Edmonds’ ILSA, SHE WOLF OF THE SS, and, to a lesser extent, Liliana Cavani’s considerably more up-market The NIGHT PORTER (1974), Lee Frost’s LOVE CAMP 7 became the prototype of this usually scorned genre and paved the way for a quick succession of Nazi-themed sleaze pictures in the ’70s (predominately out of Italy), beginning with Tinto Brass’ lavish but highly sleazy SALON KITTY (1976) and followed by an entire slew of like-minded sleaze, including Sergio Garrone’s back-to-back shockers SS EXPERIMENT LOVE CAMP (1976) and SS CAMP 5: WOMEN’S HELL (1977), Cesare Canevari’s The GESTAPO’S LAST ORGY (1977), Mario Caiano’s (hiding under his usual pseudonym of William Hawkins) NAZI LOVE CAMP #27 (1977), and what is probably the nadir of the entire genre, Paolo Solvay’s SS HELL CAMP (1977).  Of course, there were numerous others, but you get the idea.

The story of LOVE CAMP 7, such that it is, revolves around two WAC lieutenants (Maria Lease and Kathy Williams) who are sent to a love camp to contact Martha Grossman, a former German engineer who has helped devise a revolutionary aircraft engine but, because of her Jewish background, she’s been sent to one of these camps and, naturally, the US Army wants to retrieve her.  “You have been brought here for one purpose and one purpose only: that is to please the frontline officers of our armies!” exclaims the Commandant (also essayed by producer R.W. Cresse), who seems to partake in or at the very least oversee most of the humiliation and torture while grinning and cackling in ecstatic glee.  Of course, once our heroines arrive at the camp, the narrative takes a back seat as torture, degradation and abundant nudity fill the screen – all typical staples of the ‘roughie’. 

Both Cresse and Frost, through the their production company Olympic International, were quite prolific during the ‘60s beginning with their nudie-monster romp HOUSE ON BARE MOUNTAIN (1962), and then, along with LOVE CAMP 7, they produced HOT SPUR (1968) and The SCAVENGERS (1969), a couple of western-themed ‘roughies’, which also turned out to be some of their most popular films.  Both Frost and Cresse would team up once again (pseudonymously) a few years later on A CLIMAX OF BLUE POWER (1974 – released in ‘75), a very bleak hardcore effort, which apparently, Frost put together while he was busy working on RACE WITH THE DEVIL (1975) for 20^th Century Fox, which, in the end, was handed over to director Jack Starrett. 

Although directed by Frost, LOVE CAMP 7 is pretty much the brainchild of writer/producer Bob Cresse, and, to this very day, remains an effectively nasty piece of work.  In fact, when Something Weird Video initially planned to release this on DVD in the US via their distribution deal with Image Entertainment, they simply rejected it due to subject matter.  Despite the 1968 production date, LOVE CAMP 7 still delivers a number of rather eye-popping BDSM tableaus, which usually revolve around pain and restraint, with one particular flogging that lasts uncomfortably long in duration; the entire film is like one of those adult pocket books from the ’60s come to life.  In fact, the film is still banned in the UK because of “eroticised depictions of sexual violence and repeated association of sex with restraint, pain and humiliation.”  On the flipside, many of the performances also vary wildly and the German ‘accents’ are equally all over the place, which definitely helps lighten the overall tone of the film, and even though nudity abounds, the various sex scenes are hilariously tacky. As well, all male members (pun intended) of the cast keep their pants on; yet another staple of mid-’60s sexploitation, this as a result of stringent laws at the time forbidding male full-frontal nudity.  Also, keep your eyes peeled for Mr. Friedman as a cigar-chomping General who ogles and gropes one of the many unfortunate women stuck in the camp.     

Although never released in the US, this was made available from Something Weird Video in Australia in 2005.  Distributed through Siren Visual Entertainment, LOVE CAMP 7 appeared on DVD in a decent transfer, which looked noticeably sharper than Something Weird’s domestic DVD-R and VHS tapes, but unlike many of their other releases (including the Australian ones), this particular DVD was a no frills affair.  This now out-of-print disc contained 14-chapters with titles such as “Bootlicking” and “Servicing the Guards,” and, despite the lack of extras, is worth picking up, if you can still find it.