UHF (Jay Levey, 1989)

Watch out Rambo, Indiana Jones and 1980s-era Dire Straits, Weird Al Yanković is about to mock your ass with extreme prejudice in the mildly amusing UHF, the Fran Drescher film with not as much Fran Drescher as I would have liked. Don't you just hate it when that happens? No, not when 1980s-era Dire Straits gets made fun of by Weird Al Yanković. I'm talking about when you sit down to watch a Fran Drescher movie, but what you get instead is a Victoria Jackson movie. Granted, Victoria Jackson isn't in this film all that much either. However, as most sane people will tell you, any time screen time is taken away from the never not adorable Fran Drescher, Yum-Yum gets angry. Oh, and, yes, you're not seeing things, Victoria Jackson is the female lead. I know, who in their right mind would cast Victoria Jackson in anything, let alone the lead in a major motion picture? This is Orion Pictures (Desperately Seeking Susan and Making Mr. Right) we're talking about, not some dinky ass TV show on public access. At any rate, think about all the people who could have played Weird Al's girlfriend instead. Personally, I would have gone with Julie Brown or Judy Tenuta, as they're both... well, they're both awesome. But in reality, just about anyone would have been a better choice. I know that's a harsh thing to say, but Miss Jackson is about as interesting as a shoddily upholstered chair that only comes in beige.

On the bright side, we do get four separate and distinct Fran Drescher outfits in this movie. Yeah, yeah, we get at least five separate and distinct Fran Drescher outfits in your average episode of The Nanny. But I'll take whatever I can get, Fran Drescher outfit-wise.

Of course, I realize that back in 1989, when this film came out, it wasn't promoted as the film to see that summer for fans of Fran Drescher's unique sense of fashion. But this isn't 1989, is it? No, it isn't. Which means if I want to judge the film strictly from a Fran Drescher-related point of view, I'm going to. Who's going to stop me? Exactly. Nobody.

In fact, Fran Drescher is all I could think about, as I watched a fake commercial for Spatula City, a store that only sells spatulas, and a post-Fridays Michael Richards blast children in the face with a fire hose. Actually, this applies to my everyday as well, as Fran Drescher is never far from my mind. Can you believe that I don't own the complete series of The Nanny on DVD? What the hell is wrong with me? Don't answer that, by the way, it's one of them rhetorical question thingies.

If the idea of Michael Richards blasting children in the face with a fire hose sounds sexual to you, then I'm afraid you ain't hooked up right. Believe or not, I'm talking about an actual fire hose. And get this, it's the reward you get for finding a marble in a kiddie pool filled with oatmeal on Stanley Spadowski's Clubhouse, a re-tooled version of Uncle Nutzy's Clubhouse, a kids show on Channel 62, a struggling UHF television station.

 

Well, I should say, formerly struggling UHF television station. You see, when George Newman (Weird Al Yanković) and his friend Bob (David Bowe) take over Channel 62, it's in shambles. But that all changes when... Well, um, actually, it's not all that bad. I mean, look who's working at the front desk... (Let me guess, is it Fran Drescher?) Careful, man. I'm not digging your derisive tone. But, yeah, it's Fran Drescher.

Playing the delightfully named Pamela Finklestein, Fran Drescher openly complains to George and Bob upon their arrival about the lack of advancement at this TV station (she figures, since she's worked there for two years, that she should be the station's lead roving reporter by now).

I'm not sure about this, but the way the camera would focus on George and Bob's stunned faces every now and then as they listened to Pamela whine about her lack of advancement seems to imply that Fran Drescher's voice is annoying. They, co-writer and director Jay Levey and co-writer Weird Al Yanković, wouldn't do that, would they? Nah, they wouldn't do that. Even if they did, so what? She has the voice of an angel.

I don't mean to alarm any Frannies... What? No good? How 'bout Dreschers? Franophiles? No, Frannies is the way to go. As I was saying, I don't mean to alarm any Frannies (fans of actress Fran Drescher) out there, but Fran Drescher doesn't appear in UHF (a.k.a., believe it or not, "The Vidiot from UHF") until the sixteen minute mark. Of course, any true Franny worth their weight in gourmet mustard would already know that.

In the meantime, we have to endure a steady barrage of lame sight gags. I will say this, I did make a laughing sound when George Newman drops a dog in the punch bowl at a party. He just drops it... in the punch bowl. Classic.

The reason he drops the dog in the punch bowl is because his Uncle Harvey (Stanley Brock) and Aunt Esther (Sue Ane Langdon) have some good news for him. Well, I don't know if it's good news. Nevertheless, Uncle Harvey is going to let George run the rundown television station he just won in a poker game.

After checking out the place, and meeting Philo (Anthony Geary), the station's eccentric chief engineer, George, along with his pal Bob, set about turning around Channel 62's fortunes.

And... we have Fran Drescher! What a relief.

While the scene where George hand delivers a package that was supposed to go to Channel 8, a network affiliate, seems pointless at first. It does set the stage for the meeting between George Newman and Stanley Spadowski (Michael Richards), the second most important character in the UHF universe. Do I have to say who the most important character is? I didn't think so.

On top of establishing that the owner of Channel 8, R.J. Fletcher (Kevin McCarthy), is a dick (he thinks people like Stanley Spadowski should be put to sleep), and that Stanely Spadowski loves mops, the scene shows that treating people shabbily can have unforeseen circumstantial consequences. Fired as the Channel 8 janitor for misplacing a file he didn't misplace, Stanley Spadowski ends up working as Channel 62's janitor. Which sets the stage for Channel 8's downfall.

I know, you're thinking to yourself: How can a slightly retarded janitor with an unhealthy obsession with mops bring down the number one television station in the city? It's simple, really. After being dumped by his girlfriend Teri (Victoria Jackson), he stood her up on her birthday, George is too depressed to perform as Uncle Nutzy on Uncle Nutzy's Clubhouse (a demented kids show). As he's heading out to a local bar with Bob to drink his troubles away (one blueberry daiquiri, please), he suggests that Stanley Spadowski finish the rest of the show.

To everyone's surprise, Stanley Spadowski is quite the performer, and the show, now obviously titled, Stanley Spadowski's Clubhouse, becomes a smash hit. Brimming with confidence, this new-found success causes George to create more hits shows, such as: Wheel of Fish (hosted by the hilarious Gedde Watanabe... "Stupid! You're so stupid!") and Raul's Wild Kingdom (an animal show hosted by Trinidad Silva from his apartment... "We don't need no stinkin' badgers!").

Getting back to Fran Drescher for a second. Unless Fran Drescher's character is dating Noodles the cameraman (Billy Barty) behind everyone's back, why doesn't George ask her out? With Teri now out of the picture, this is the perfect time for him to make play for Fran Drescher. If I had to point out one major flaw in UHF, it would have to be George's taste in women. Granted, some people will tell that Fran Drescher and Victoria Jackson are equally annoying. But you can't sit there and tell me with a straight face that you would rather hook up with Victoria Jackson over Fran Drescher. Of course you can't.

When word gets around that Channel 62 is now number one in the ratings (thanks to shows like, Strip Solitaire and Bowling For Burgers), Channel 8's R.J. Fletcher plans to put Channel 62 out of commission once and for all. The fact that  R.J. Fletcher didn't laugh maniacally when he hatches his plan seemed out character. Anyway, will George Newman and his plucky band of boob-tube troublemakers be able to resist the corporate shenanigans of Channel 8? Probably.

For the best results, make sure to watch UHF alongside Tapeheads, as these films are like kindred spirits. Colourful films that satirize and/or ridicule pop culture from the late 1980s, these movies are your best bets for understanding the spirit/mood of that particular period of history. In order to make it a trilogy (why watch two films when you can watch three?), I'd throw Earth Girls Are Easy in there as well. Yeah, why not? And unlike UHF and Tapeheads, Earth Girls Are Easy had the sense to cast Julie Brown (though, to be fair, she did write that movie). Seriously, though, what were you thinking, Weird Al? No Julie Brown?!? Unacceptable!

Masters of the Universe (Gary Goddard, 1987)

As much as it pains me to tell you this, but the forces of darkness are about to take over the universe. You think I'm kidding? Check out that giant vortex swirling out of control behind the throne of that pompous dude in the blackish purple cape. Which one? They're all wearing blackish purple capes. The one with the blackish purple cape that looks like he shaves with a weed wacker. Okay, I see him. What about him? Well, like I said, he's about to unleash the forces of darkness, and it looks like there's nothing anyone can do stop him. You mean to tell me there's not one musclebound warrior, mustachioed man-at-arms, or Thenurian locksmith in the entire universe who is willing to intervene? Oh, sure. There are plenty who are willing, but most of them are tied up at the moment. What the universe needs, particularly the planet of Eternia, is a keyboard player. You have got to be kidding? You mean to tell me there's a movie out there where a guy who plays the synthesizer in his high school new wave band is the galaxy's last hope for salvation, and I'm only finding out about this now? What the fuck, man? And not only that, it's his synthesizer skills that are required to save the universe from a deranged overlord. Instead of feeling cheated over the fact that this film has existed unbeknownst to me for over twenty years, I'm going to embrace it tightly against my quivering bosom like it were a long lost panda. You heard me. I'm claiming, that from this day forward, that Masters of the Universe and I are best friends. Are you sure you're ready for this kind of commitment? I mean, you've only watched it twice. Let's just say that "I have the power," and know exactly what I'm getting into. You do realize that Courtney Cox, the least appealing "friend" from the television show Friends is in the cast? Yeah, I'm aware of that. However, you have got to remember that Friends didn't exist in 1987, and that the Courtney Cox featured in this film was simply the chick who famously appeared in the music video for Bruce Springsteen's "Dancing In The Dark." So, using you're dislike of anything or anyone Friends-related or Friends adjacent–Romy and Michele's High School Reunion, notwithstanding; that movie rules–as an excuse not to like this film is not even close to being acceptable.
 

 

Grand in scope, yet containing subtle moments of human frailty, Masters of the Universe scratched my cinematic cornea for myriad reasons. First and foremost, it sports a mystical realm filled with characters who are both heroic and evil. Wait a minute. I'm not a fan of movies like that. In fact, I usually despise that kind of kiddie crap. While I don't want to play my Meg Foster as Evil-Lyn card quite yet, there has got to be another explanation for the way I reacted to this film. Seriously, I haven't felt this giddy about a film in donkey's years.

 

 

Produced by Menahan Golan and Yoran Globus, the team that brought us The Apple and 10 to Midnight, and directed Gary Goddard, Masters of the Universe, based on the "media franchise" created by Mattel, is a live action film that tries to capture the majesty of the animated series produced by Filmation we all watched as small people. While I have vague recollection of the series, my memory pertaining to the conflict between the heroic He-Man (Dolph Lundgren) and the evil Lord Skeletor (Frank Langella) on the planet Eternia is mostly based on the commercials for the toys that used to air around the clock during the early morning hours, as the line, "It's Castle Grayskull, and it's mine!" is seared into my subconscious.
 

 

In other words, my memory is a tad foggy. Nevertheless, you don't really need to be that familiar, nor have a history with the franchise to be able to enjoy the world that is recreated in this film. A world we're sucked into almost immediately, as we meet Frank Langella's Skeletor, a power mad despot who fancies himself the ruler of Eternia, a planet located at the centre of the universe. Marching into the throne room of Castle Grayskull, flanked by his shock troops, Skeletor seems pleased when his loyal aid Evil-Lyn (Meg Foster) says that is Castle Grayskull is ours. After correcting Evil-Lyn (he tells he that Castle Grayskull is not ours but "mine"), he finally takes the throne.
 

 

Now, you would think that Evil-Lyn, the sexiest, most alluring minion in all of Eternia, would be upset over the fact Skeletor contradicted her in front of his elite guards. But she doesn't appear to be upset at all. In fact, she seems to be smirking. It's almost as if she knows something we don't know. And that's part of the appeal of Evil-Lyn. As the smirk heard around the world was being coyly implemented, Skeletor was busy belittling his prized possession. Imprisoned in some kind of electronic force field, the Sorceress of Castle Grayskull (Christina Pickles) is at the mercy of her boney captor.
 

 

In case it isn't obvious, Eternia is at war, and with Castle Grayskull in the hands of Skeletor, He-Man, a warrior who fights evil for a living, isn't too pleased by this turn of events. Deciding to blow off some steam, He-Man confronts a small group of Skeletor's troops as they're making their way to Castle Grayskull. Using his fists, his sword, and the laser guns dropped by the troops he's already dispatched to work his way through their ranks, He-Man soon realizes that he might have taken on more than he can handle. Luckily, Teela (Chelsea Field) and Man-at-Arms (Jon Cypher) show up just in time to blast the remaining troops with their trusty laser guns.
 

 

What I liked about this battle sequence is how they combined melee weapons with energy weapons. I mean, I was expecting sword play (He-Man is rarely seen without his giant sword), but the laser shootouts were a pleasant surprise, as I find laser blasts, especially the pink and red variety, to be aesthetically pleasing. Sticking with the things that please me theme, I also found the black outfits worn by Skeletor's troops to be well-designed, or, to put it another way, they were pretty fucking cool.
 

 

Free tip for all you amateur despots out there: If you want the forces under your command to remain loyal, give them uniforms like the one's Skeletor's troops wear in Masters of the Universe, as they will fight harder knowing they look like a bunch of bad asses.
 

 

Keen observers probably notice that the troops He-Man attacked were transporting something in some sort of net. What could it have been? Well, I'll tell you what it was. It was Billy Barty! That's right, the one and only Billy Barty is in Masters of the Universe, and he steals scenes with a breathtaking ease. Playing a master locksmith and inventor named Gwildor, Billy Barty (Skatetown, U.S.A.), who is wearing a thick of layer prosthetic makeup and a red fright wig, manages to bring some much needed humour to the proceedings. Anyway, after thanking them for rescuing him from Skeletor's troops, Gwildor takes He-Man, Man-At-Arms, and Teela to his home to show them his latest invention, the "Cosmic Key," a device that allows people to travel to other worlds and dimensions simply by pushing a few buttons.
 

 

So, you can see why Skeletor would want to get a hold of the inventor of such a contraption. Actually, I have no idea why Skeletor would want to procure the talents of Gwildor. Don't you see? If Skeletor can travel to any time or place simply by pressing a few keys, that means no-one is safe from Skeletor's in your face brand of tyranny. According to Skeletor, he, and I quote, "must possess everything, or possess nothing." Most people will agree, that's a pretty lousy philosophy. But what do you expect from from a megalomaniacal cape enthusiast who doesn't have skin?
 

 

Using a secret underground passageway located in Gwildor's crib to enter Castle Grayskull's throne chamber, He-Man, Gwildor, Man-At-Arms, and Teela quickly find themselves in a laser gun fight with Skeletor's guards. On top of the sweet laser gun effects, the best part of this particular sequence was when Man-At-Arms, noticing that the Sorceress, a beloved figure on Eternia, is being mistreated by Skeletor, says something to effect of: "How dare you treat the Sorceress so shoddily." To which Skeletor replies: "I dare anything! I am Skeletor!" Fuck yeah you are.
 

 

Realizing that they're up shit's creek without a plunger or some kind of snake, He-Man tells Gwildor to use his cosmic key to get them the hell out of there. Unable to set specific coordinates, the foursome have no choice but to jump through the portal the cosmic key has created. Where they end up is anyone's guess, but we know, judging by the cow they come across, they've landed on Earth, "a primitive and tasteless planet," Skeletor's words, not mine. After Gwildor has finished clearing his gills (he landed face first in a bog), they split up in order to find the cosmic key (it must have landed somewhere nearby). As they're splitting up, I couldn't help but notice they all say "good journey" to one another as they part ways. I don't know 'bout you, but I like the expression "good journey," it has a certain understated sincerity about it that didn't make me want to gag.
 

 

Meanwhile, a young Earth woman named Julie (Courtney Cox), is taking her last order at Robby's, a fast food joint that specializes in fried chicken and ribs (the staff wear red and white gingham shirts with a blue handkerchief tied around their necks), as she plans on leave in a few days. Her boyfriend, Kevin Corrigan (Robert Duncan McNeill), a keyboard player, and, as we'll soon find out, a master songmaker, who is not pleased with her decision to skip town, yet he is trying to be supportive. Which he does by accompanying her to the cemetery to visit the graves of her dead parents. As they're leaving, they stumble, you guessed it, the cosmic key. Of course, Kevin immediately thinks it's some kind of newfangled synthesizer, but we all know that it's more than that.
 

 

When Kevin, like any keyboard player would, starts pushing the keys, Evil-Lyn begins to track its location using her own cosmic key. In the meantime, she instructs her minions to assemble the mercenaries: Blade (Anthony De Longis), a bald swordsman with an eye-patch, Saurod (Pons Maar), a lizard-like creature, The Beastman (Tony Carroll), a beast...man, and, my personal favourite, Karg (Robert Towers), a reptilian creature with beady eyes and a gray Dolly Parton wig. I don't know, I found myself strangely transfixed by Karg, as there was something about him that was oddly endearing. I think it had something to do with the fact that he looked weird and that he was the mercenary with the most dialogue, as the others merely make guttural noises.

 

 

As expected, when the mercs arrive on Earth, all hell breaks loose. It would seem that the fight for Eternia has come to Main Street, U.S.A., more specifically Charlie's Music Store, the place for all your synthesizer and keyboard needs. Well, it was the place until He-Man, Man-At-Arms, Teela (who declares herself "Woman-At-Arms" after an awesome display of raygun markswomanship), The Beastman, Detective Lubic (James Tolkan), a shoot first ask questions later cop ("Nobody takes pot shots at Lubic!"), and about about a dozen of Skeletor's crack troops get though with it. Let's have a brief moment of silence for Charlie's Music Store. And, while we're at it, let's have one for the brave Air Centurions (a special class of soldier who fly around on hover discs) who gave their lives for Skeletor's misguided cause so selflessly. Okay, now let's roll our eyes at the gratuitous Burger King product placement. I mean, what the fuck was that?
 

 

I've stalled long enough, Meg Foster is da bomb as Evil-Lyn, the overly obsequious witch with the most alabaster skin this side of Snake Mountain. Oh, and yeah. That's right. I'm bringing back "da bomb." Other than being too eager to please Skeletor, I thought Evil-Lyn was pretty much perfect. How can you not love a woman who pretends to be Courtney Cox's dead mother in order to manipulate her to do her bidding? Sure, her taste in mercenaries is a tad suspect (they can't even capture a defenseless Courtney Cox), but have you seen her outfit? It's an ornate as all get out.
 

 

Covered with detailed metal work, its designer, Julie Weiss, must have put a lot of work into its creation, because the lavish get-up would not look out of place on the runways of Paris, Milan, or even Etobicoke. Which is a high compliment for a movie that features a scene where Billy Barty steals a bucket of baby back ribs with a grappling hook. And it's no surprise that Meg Foster, an actress with the dreamiest eyes I have ever scene, fills the costume with a malevolent ease. Favourite Evil-Lynism: "Outnumbered? Outclassed is more like it." A line she utters after Karg tells her the reason he failed to procure the Cosmic Key; which, as I'm sure most of you have already noticed, has a similar grammatical structure to that of cEvin Key, one of the founding members of Skinny Puppy. How did you ever manage to namedrop Skinny Puppy in a piece on Masters of the Universe? Hey, it's what I do. Whatever. As they say on Eternia: Good Journey. 

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Skatetown, U.S.A. (William A. Levey, 1979)

A feeling of misguided satisfaction coursed through my nimble frame as I finished watching Skatetown, U.S.A., a non-stop disco party that repeatedly shuns reality and subverts the conventions of modern cinema. Why such an extreme reaction to something that, on the surface, appears to be stupid and trivial? Well, I like to brag about the fact that I enjoy watching Roller Boogie, the movie where Linda Blair's gorgeous thighs are constantly being strangled by a pair of purple tights, and Xanadu, which is also a "movie," except in this one, Olivia Newton-John provides the bulk of the thigh-candy. As you would expect, or maybe you wouldn't, what the hell do I know, the weird look of pity/puzzlement they give me as I'm telling them all about my love for these culturally important movies bathes my fragile aura with radiant waves of energy nectar. Only problem being is that I'm deathly afraid that one day one of these fine, nectar-providing folks is gonna ask me if I've seen Skatetown, U.S.A. You see, saying you're a fan of movies that involve disco and roller skating is completely meaningless if you haven't seen Skatetown, U.S.A., the kind of movie where yo-yos, rainbow suspenders, tai chi and short shorts all appear within the same frame. It's like saying you're a fan of the music of Nitzer Ebb but haven't heard That Total Age. In case it isn't obvious yet, I'd like to officially announce that my days of nervously boasting about my love of roller disco movies are over, for I have been to Skatetown, U.S.A., and let me be the first to tell you, it was glorious.

The act of gliding on wheels to disco music, as supposed to walking to the screeching racket that is rock music, has always been the principal allure of roller disco cinema. When riding in a car or traveling across town on a bus, you feel as if your moving but there's a bit of a disconnect. On the other hand, when the wheels are actually attached to your body, the sensation is more tactile, more granular. Add the synthetic pulse of a well-oiled disco beat, and we're talking some serious harmony up in here.

Just because walking and talking is the most popular way to depict two people in a relationship on-screen doesn't mean it's the most effective. Having your characters on wheels not only enhances the romance, it accelerates the wooing process. Take a couple who do things the old fashioned way: they walk to a restaurant, they eat, they engage in small talk, it can be quite tedious. Now take a roller skating couple, like, for instance, Stanley and Allison, the couple in Skatetown, U.S.A. played by Greg Bradford (Zapped!) and Katherine Kelly Lang (The Bold and the Beautiful), the two barely say a word to one another, yet their chemistry on the roller disco dance floor is undeniable. There is just something to said about love when it's on wheels. It blossoms in a way that no walking person could ever understand.

Since I've already done an excellent job proving that moving on wheels to disco gives you a sense of spiritual autonomy and vastly improves your love life, I'd like to talk about this particular film and its radical approach to storytelling. Written Nick Castle (Escape from New York) and directed by William A. Levey (Wam Bam Thank You Spaceman), Skatetown, U.S.A. bypasses things like scripted dialogue and character development all together, and aims to create a universe that seems lived in, but not in a way that seems contrived or phony.

The sight of hordes of scantily clad roller skaters rolling along the concrete pathways of Venice Beach in the opening scene is the only proof we have that this film takes place on Planet Earth, because after that, the film takes place entirely inside the iridescent realm that is Skatetown, U.S.A., an awe-inspiring roller disco paradise run by a father and son duo named Harvey (Flip Wilson) and Jimmy (Billy Barty); the former, by the way, also plays Harvey's mother (yeah, that's right, Flip Wilson appears in drag). Under the spell of The Wizard (Denny Johnston), the joints giant white afro-sporting DJ, we are subjected to a balletic display of tightly packaged disco crotches, flashing disco lights, glowing disco balls, pulsating disco beats, and knee-molesting disco doctors.

You'd think the film would rest on its laurels by employing the tried and true roller disco movie formula: montage, dialogue, montage, a brief shot of Ruth Buzzi in a yellow hat, dialogue, montage. After all, it worked so brilliantly in Roller Boogie. However, Skatetown, U.S.A. takes the formula one step further by eliminating the dialogue completely. Oh, sure, there's still a ton of dialogue uttered in the film (most of it incoherent nonsense), it's just that it seemed like I was watching a 98 minute montage. Which, if you think about it, is more attune to reality. If you think about it some more, there's no dialogue in real life, so why should there be any in the movies?

Seriously, forget about even a sentence, when was the last time you heard someone verbalize actual words in order to advance a plot? For me, you'd have to go all the way back to the late 1970s, and I wasn't even alive back then.

There was one line of dialogue expressed audibly in the film that I do remember, and that was Dorothy Stratten's "pizza please." Asked repeatedly every time an elderly vaudevillian would finish telling her what was usually a terrible joke, Dorothy, aptly credited as "girl at snack bar," would gradually increase the frustration level in her voice after each pizza request went unfulfilled. Other than the film's obligatory skate competition, it's safe to say that the tension surrounding the serving of Miss Stratten's pizza slice was the film's primary source of drama.

Predictable, yet completely necessary, the rivalry that forms between skaters Stanley (Greg Bradford) and Ace (Patrick Swayze) is the dominate storyline during those smallish chunks of time that exist in-between the film's many musical numbers (the majority involving skate crews with names like, "New Horizons" and the "Hot Wheelers"). Egged on by Richie (Scott Baio), his bookie pal, and placated by his sister Susan (Maureen McCormick), Stan from the Valley must overcome the brash Ace, the leader of the West Side Wheelers, the toughest roller skating gang this side of Wilshire Boulevard, find out if Katherine Kelly Lang is real or not (she has the charisma of a fuck doll that's never been inflated), use a shitload of poker metaphors in an argument, and partake in a game of chicken involving a rickety old pier and motorized roller skates.

Employing his sycophantic underlings to sabotage his opponents (which include skaters with names like, Uncle Sam and Pistol Pete), even though he doesn't have to (he kicks ass both in the singles and mixed doubles competition), Ace's determination to win has severely clouded his judgment. The best example of this cloudiness can be observed whenever you would see Ace and his second in command Frankey (Ron Palillo) sitting together. While Ace's lady-friend/skating partner is attractive and all, it was clear to me that gals leaning on each of Frankey's bony shoulders were two of the hottest chicks in all of Skatetown, U.S.A. Or maybe Ace is just not that into leather-clad women who combine the elegance of Buckwild from Flavor of Love 2 and the wayward spunk of Polly from the movie Teen Witch. Either way, it's his loss.

Sporting a studded dog collar and a churlish disposition (one that was downright unhorshackian at times), Ron Palillo's henchmen character represented the ugly side of disco peer pressure. In constant fear of losing his place within the gang's complex hierarchy, Frankey carries out his master's orders without fail.

Meanwhile, over at the change rooms. The moment the word "pantyhose" rolled off her exquisite lips was the exact instant I knew the bespectacled Eleanor (Harlene Winsten) would be the Skatetown, U.S.A. character for me (she trips and falls before she even puts her skates on). Recently married to a nebbish clod named Irwin (David Landsberg), a man who clearly does not appreciate her inherent foxiness, Eleanor sets the disco floor on fire with her frumpy attire and spastic roller moves. Unfortunately, the winsome Miss Winsten only appears sporadically throughout the film. Nevertheless, I treasured every scene of hers like it were a rare gift from the roller disco movie gods.

Half-heartedly spouting feminist slogans when confronted, a more wide-eyed than usual Judy Landers (Dr. Alien) tries her best to figure out the club's simplistic ticketing system as Tery, Skatetown's breathy doorperson. (Remember kids: Orange passes are for last week, green passes are for this week, and free tickets cost five dollars.) Sadly, Judy spends the majority of the film sitting behind Skatetown's ticket counter; I would have loved to have seen her skate.

I liked how Maureen McCormick (The Brady Bunch), head-to-toe in pink, would disappear on occasion. Which makes sense, since, according to her memoir: Here's the Story: Surviving Marcia Brady and Finding My True Voice in Maui, she was doing a lot of cocaine during the making of the film, and, as we all know, cocaine enthusiasts aren't exactly the most reliable people when it comes to truancy. Coked up or not, Maureen looked amazing in her tight pink short shorts, and her character's sexual attraction to Ron Palillo, while strange and slightly off-putting, gave hope to millions of deluded dirtbags the world over. Oh, and I loved the empty-headed, trollopy manner in which she chewed her gum.

Shooting laser beams from his fingers and promoting the joint's nasty snack bar whenever possible, The Wizard (Denny Johnston), the skate palace's mystical DJ (he can make crooner Dave Mason appear and disappear at will), spins a groove-tastic array of killer disco tracks. My faves being: the totally awesome "Born To Be Alive" by Patrick Hernandez (it's the song that introduces us the shimmering universe that is Skatetown, U.S.A.); Heatwave's "Boogie Nights;" "Macho Man" by the Village People (a song I always associate with roast beef and Yorkshire pudding); a cover of The Rolling Stones' "Under My Thumb" by the Hounds (Patrick Swayze and April Allen destroy all comers to this song); and, of course, Earth, Wind and Fire's "Boogie Wonderland."

It's hard to believe, but in 1979, a straight man could wear a pink tank top with white slacks while performing an elaborate roller skating routine (complete with muscle flexing) to the strains of "Macho Man" without an ounce of fear. Anyway, I sure am glad I finally got the chance to visit Skatetown, U.S.A. The only downside being that I reek of flat 7Up and soggy pizza.

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