Well, it’s October again so it’s time to start up my annual tradition of Slasher Search, where I spend the month trying to find a good ’70s or ’80s slasher movie that I never saw before. Every year it gets harder because the pool keeps getting smaller and sadder. It’ll be almost impossible to match last year’s winner, the legitimately great Canadian hospital-set slasher VISITING HOURS, but hopefully I’ll at least get some laughs.
I take recommendations and everything but my favorite part is digging up these random ones that are so obscure I can only find them on VHS. I mean I haven’t had much success with this method, but I enjoy the hunt, you know? The idea that eventually I could find the holy grail, the lost ark, the crystal skull or the tasty monkey brains. Or at least the stone or the jewel of the Nile or something.
(read the rest of this shit…)
From the director that brought you 
YOUNG WARRIORS is a crazy fuckin movie released by Cannon in 1983. The description on the back of the VHS box begins like this:
Remember how the driver in Walter Hill’s 
THE TEMPEST is the story of this wizard lady named Prospera (Helen Mirren) who lives on a small island with only her cutie daughter Miranda (Felicity Jones) and her monster slave Caliban (Djimon Hounsou). Also she has a slave named Ariel (Ben Whishaw) who’s like a naked sprite guy (with boobs?) who flits around and does her magical bidding.
Okay, here’s your spot to talk about Josie and the Pussycats or whatever. I know there were alot of good suggestions for the subtitle, and I forget who to credit for suggesting this one, but he was correct. All part 4s should be called either THE CRACKDOWN or STAR WARS.
I’m surprised it took this long for somebody to make a straight drama about mixed martial artists. It seems so obvious. It would inherently have all the same dramatic elements as a boxing movie (underdog reaching for the top, wife tired of seeing him beat up, society treating him as a dumb brute, then the fear of losing it all by a loss or an injury, all that) plus the novelty of an expanded repertoire of moves (kicks, chokes, armbars, throws, flying knees) and of being a popular newer sport that hasn’t been done to death in movies. 
Okay, I know I’m not supposed to like a movie like this, I know I’m supposed to feel guilty if I get any pleasure from it, but I am a man with honor and I cannot tell a lie and all that shit so I gotta tell you that I fucking loved the cheesy dance competition movie STEP UP 3. Returning-from-
STEP UP 2 THE STREETS is one of those impressive sequels that re-invents the whole thing and gives it new life. Because the main character is a girl, instead of a guy. Totally different.
The opening credits of STEP UP had me laughing and remembering everything I hated about BREAKIN’ and knowing I made the right decision to rent this shit. A Petey Pablo song plays over a series of shots contrasting two worlds: ballet tippy toes in a well-lit dance studio; Timberlands and high-heeled boots dancing on dark concrete. Then it’s the legs of the ballet dancers hopping around; some dudes in a messy warehouse with chain link fences, loose tires and ladders jumping over each other’s shoulders and pumping their fists in unison. And it continues to alternate, comparing and contrasting the moves of the delicate ballet dancers and the people in their oversized hoodies, sideways hats and gold chains. 
