Whoever it was, their wish has just been at least approximated, if not exactly granted.  The new stuff:

American History X (1998), in which Hollywood tries to make a non-hysterical movie about Nazi skinheads, but can’t quite bear to do it…

Smithereens (1982), in which the rotting remains of the New York City punk scene become a haven for dead-end scam-artists…

Stone (1974), in which a cop who left the edge three or four counties back is assigned to infiltrate a gang of outlaw bikers in the hope of figuring out who’s been going around bumping them off…

Suburbia (1983), in which you can’t entirely blame the residents of a decaying Los Angeles suburb for failing to tolerate the band of teenage runaways who are squatting an abandoned house a few miles away up Interstate 605…

and…

The Trip (1967), in which a man who was supposed to be a thinly disguised stand-in for Jack Nicholson becomes a thinly disguised stand-in for Roger Corman instead, but still drops acid in an attempt to figure out why he’s so dissatisfied with life.

It’s the Klan and hippies and all sorts of pain for the audience as Richard Burton (!), O.J., and Cameron Mitchell as “Butt Cut” join Lee “I swear I only did it for the paycheck” Marvin as The Klansman.

A handful of new short reviews has been added to Et Al.

This update mostly concerns films that don’t quite qualify for a full review. So, we’ve got a bunch of non-sharky underwater films, a few of Roger Corman’s non-genre offerings, and a couple of proto-disaster aviation movies; as well as some purely random entries, including one film I love so much, I can only babble about it incoherently.

As opposed to, um…

How glad I am to have not been a hippie. I think the main reason why I have a negative look towards hippies and the youth of the ’60s comes from reading back issues of Mad magazine when I was young. Artists like Dave Berg would always draw them with impossibly long hair (wouldn’t they be hot under all that hair?) and clothing that was ragged and laughable-looking. They were also usually portrayed as being idiots, with all their pot-smoking and constant proclamations of “Peace!” Even though what I observed from Mad magazine and other sources about hippies repulsed me to that lifestyle, I must admit at the same time I was almost fascinated by it. Why would young people intentionally drop out of the mainstream and do all those negative (to me) things? To this day I still feel this way. That’s why I decided to review The Hippie Revolt for this roundtable, to get some sort of answer to this question. Did this documentary give me answers? Read the review and find out.

A lot of people enjoyed Able Edwards (2004), which tells the Citizen Kane-like story of a clone of Disney-esque entertainer opening theme parks in the “civilization pod” in orbit to which humanity is confined after a global bioaccident, more than I did.  Being the first feature film shot entirely against a green screen, it was a technological milestone.  But it seemed to capture the fascinating character of neither of the personalities that inspired it.

I’m in Canada! Or as they say in Quebec, “Ayyy! Mamma mia! I’m inna da Canada!” Or something like that. But at least one person at Teleport City saw fit to get some work done on this roundtable…

TIMES SQUARE
As a result of these hijinks, the Sleez Sisters’ legend continues to grow, with Nicky and Pamela building up an enormous, rabid following among Johnny LaGuardia’s young listeners. Of course, we’ll have to take Johnny LaGuardia’s word for that, because we’re not shown any actual evidence of this overwhelming public response until the film’s conclusion. Before that, we just have to make due with the DJ’s grandiose proclamations about how “a new iconoclast has come to save us” and him exclaiming about how his “switchboards are jammed” with calls of support for the two. Finally, Nicky and Pamela make their ultimate statement by dressing up in garbage bags, painting raccoon masks over their eyes, and throwing television sets off of the roofs of various buildings throughout the city. This wouldn’t seem that significant if not for Tim Curry’s rapturous exultations on the subject, which would lead you to believe that it was some kind of profoundly society-challenging act.

Yes, it’s a cheat; but an El Santo-approved cheat. So there.

LET SLEEPING CORPSES LIE (1974)

In which the use of an experimental pesticide device based upon ultrasonic radiation has the unforeseen side-effect of causing the dead to rise up and start chowing down upon the living.

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And where is local law enforcement while all this is going on? Oh, they’ve got something more important to worry about – like an out-of-towner whose hair touches his collar…

[Warning: some screenshots NSFW. (I seem to be saying that an awful lot lately, don't I??)]

I briefly considered doing my review of A Bucket of Blood (1959) in a stream of Beat poetry such as opens the movie. Then I thought, “Naah.  That’s not my thing, and all the cats will know that I’m just a poseur, I’m not REAL, I’m not TRUE, I’m not AWARE.”

So I did my own thing. Which, if I may say so myself, I do darned well.

No, I have not forgotten this month’s roundtable – my contribution is finished and will be posted later this month. I just couldn’t resist first reviewing a movie from those mischief-makers Menahem Golan and Yoram Globus. This particular movie from them – Surrender – is different from their usual stuff. First, it’s a comedy, somewhat rare for them. Second, it’s a more mature-themed movie. Michael Caine had this to say about the movie in his autobiography: “I was surprised it flopped since I had a marvellous co-star, Sally Field, and a director who is still one of the funniest men I have ever met – Jerry Belson. The script too seemed pretty hilarious, but as Harry Saltzman once said to me: ‘It’s amazing how often the public is wrong, isn’t it?’ And to repeat Sam Goldwyn on the subject: ‘If the public don’t want to go and see a movie you can’t stop them.’ That’s what happened to Surrender, the last movie I was to make as a resident of my youthful dreamworld, Hollywood.”

A report of a missing girl sends an upright (and uptight) police officer to an island off the coast of Scotland, where he finds his Christian beliefs challenged, not by the emergence of a new counter-culture, but the re-emergence of a very old one. Celtic paganism holds sway on Summerisle, and as Sergeant Neil Howie pursues his investigation, he grows increasingly certain of just why that girl is missing…

THE WICKER MAN (1973)

[Warning: some screenshots definitely NSFW!]

The White Gorilla (1945) isn’t an allegory for race, despite having a black gorilla and a white gorilla displaying hatred for each other against an African backdrop. No, it’s just a chance for Hollywood apeman extraordinaire Ray Corrigan to reuse the white-furred gorilla suit he’d already worn in the same year’s White Pongo.  And as long as we’re reusing things, let’s cobble together half of this hour-long feature from footage from the silent serial Perils of the Jungle (1927), which the producer just had lying around.  Is that quality entertainment, or what?

Urlatori alla sbarra (1960)

You might expect something a little edgier from the man who directed Don’t Torture a Duckling. But this energetic musical, Lucio Fulci’s third film as a director, is probably the tamest entry in the Roundtable.

Raising the curtain on the latest B-Masters roundtable, I give you…

Class of 1984 (1982), in which both juvenile delinquents and the music they listen to have become a hell of a lot scarier since Vic Morrow’s day.

And on a totally unrelated note, we have…

The Black Hole (1979), in which Disney decides to grow a pair– to markedly mixed results…

Jaws 2 (1978), in which people who should certainly know better still refuse to listen to Martin Brody…

Jaws 3-D (1983), in which yet more sharks follow Brody’s kids to Florida for the summer…

and…

Jaws: The Revenge (1987), in which the studio finally just comes right out and admits to what we’ve all been suspecting since about two movies ago.

Since Original Crew Month is over, what should I review? How about another shot-in-Romania fantasy kidvid? That’s the ticket!

Mysterious Museum (1999)

I have nothing intelligent to say about Kabrastan, but I felt like saying it anyhow.

I had been hoping to see the movie ever since I read about it in “Mondo Macabro” years ago; so when I found out it was available to watch on-line, I was so delighted — and pleasantly surprised by the movie itself — that I felt like sharing the experience.