Primal Rage (Vittorio Rambaldi, 1988)

In a movie filled with legginess, scrunchies, leotards and unplanned upskirts, i.e. all the things I like, I can't believe I'm going to start off my review of Primal Rage with a tangent about Bo Svenson's lackluster ponytail. I know, what I'm about to say is sort of scrunchie-related, but my tangent doesn't pertain to Bo Svenson's scrunchie, it has more to do with the flimsy nature of the ponytail itself. Poorly constructed and ill-conceived, every time Bo Svenson's weak ass ponytail would appear onscreen, I found myself teetering on the brink of madness. Now, normally, I'm in favour of ponytails on men, but the one Bo Svenson (Night Warning) sports in this movie gives male ponytails a bad name. In fact, if I had a ponytail while I watched this movie, I would have cut it off in disgust the second I had the chance. It's a good thing I already went through my ponytail phase, or else we would have been... uh, I guess, cleaning up a huge wad of hair. What I think I'm trying to say is this: I despised Bo Svenson's ponytail in this movie. In order to restore my faith in male ponytails, I watched a random episode of Parker Lewis Can't Lose. Why that show and not say... something else? It's simple, really, P.L.C.L. features Frank Lemmer (played by Taj Johnson), my male ponytail inspiration. Even though mine had more of an undercut vibe to it, Lemmer's male ponytail is what enabled me to traverse the 1990s pretty much unscathed. It's a hell of a thing being a man with a ponytail in the 1990s.

Okay, great, now that we got that out of the way, who wants to obsess over denim skirts, leotard-ensnared butt-cracks and the mother of all upskirts? Whoa, whoa, calm down, folks. If I had known you were that perverted, I would have scrapped my scrunchie screed all-together. Anyway, let's get down to business, shall we?

Oh, and before I continue, you can't watch this film without seeing Nightmare Beach first. While I suppose you could watch Primal Rage first... What I mean is, you need to see both films. Sure, one is about a killer in a motorcycle helmet terrorizing spring breakers and the other is about monkey-pox-infected college students terrorizing the campus of a Florida university (Florida International University, to be specific - Go Panthers!), but they essentially take place in the same universe.

Yeah, yeah, I know, every movie in existence technically takes place in the same universe. But does every movie feature the same cast, the same crew, the same locale and the same red motor scooter? Trust me, they don't. (And this one does?) Haven't you been paying attention? Yes, it does. Jeez.

Keen observers couldn't help but notice that the red motor scooter Sarah Buxton famously rides in Nightmare Beach didn't have a rear-view mirror on one of its handlebars. (So?) So? Well, the one Sam Nash (Patrick Lowe), roving reporter extraordinaire (he's basically a journalism student), drives in this movie does. The question is, are they the same scooter? I mean, how many red motor scooters could there have been in southern Florida circa 1988? Not many I'm guessing.

I've just been informed that red motor scooters were in fact quite commonplace in southern Florida during the late 1980s. Who knew?

Either way, the film starts off with Sam Nash driving around the picturesque F.I.U. campus on his red motor scooter like a boss. Noticing a leggy blonde getting her car towed by an unscrupulous tow truck driver, Sam Nash steps in to help the leggy blonde in distress. After he explains to the tow truck driver that what he is doing is illegal, this so-called "numb nuts" (Sam's words, not mine) realizes that he has no choice but to let her car loose. And just like that, Lauren Daly (Cheryl Arutt), the leggy blonde, has found her knight in shining armor. Or, to put it in terms you'll understand, her pussy just exploded into a thousand little pieces.

When Lauren and Sam are finished making goo-goo eyes at one another, the former goes home to her apartment, where she finds Debbie (Sarah Buxton), her new roommate, poking around in her closet. And the latter heads to the offices of his school newspaper, where he covers for his pal Frank Duffy (Mitch Watson), who is in deep trouble. Why? Whoa. Aren't we curious today. Well, it would seem that an article Duffy wrote about "stud baggers" (female students who are paid to have sex with the school's football players) didn't go over well with some of the ladies mentioned in the piece.

And therein lies the difference between Sam and Duffy when it comes to reporting. While Sam is all about exposing the truth using traditional methods, Duffy sees himself more as a gonzo journalist.

It's while doing a story about animal cruelty on campus that these divergent styles clash with one another, as Sam tries to get the scoop using conventional means, while Duffy decides to break into the school's lab, Animal Liberation Front-style, in order to get to the bottom of things.

Unfortunately, Duffy is bitten on the arm by a demented monkey during the break-in. And this couldn't happen at a worse time, as Sam and Lauren want to fix Duffy up with Debbie so that they can go on a double-date.

Remember when I said in my review for Nightmare Beach that Sarah Buxton owed me an upskirt? of course you do. Well, you'll never guess what happens during Duffy and Debbie's date. That's right, we briefly see Debbie's panties. I was so happy when this occurs, as I felt somewhat cheated when Sarah Buxton's ultra-short yellow pleated skirt in Nightmare Beach failed to produce an upskirt. Seeing that the film was shot in Florida (a state renowned for its stiff breezes), I would have thought an upskirt would have been mandatory, but alas.

At any rate, it appears that Duffy's monkey bite is slowly turning him into a mindless killing machine, and... Oh, crap. I just remembered that Duffy bites Debbie on the neck while on their date. I guess I was too busying admiring Debbie's upskirt to notice Duffy bit her (it was mild nibble).

The rage virus (28 Days Later... totally ripped this movie off) soon spreads across the campus, and Dr. Etheridge (Bo Svenson), his pathetic excuse for a ponytail, Sam and Lauren have to race against the clock to stop it before it spreads even further. And by further, I mean the campus of the University of Central Florida - Go Knights!

This may sound weird, but horror movie fans will love the sequence that takes place at the F.I.U. Halloween party. Featuring hundreds of extras wearing elaborate costumes, the kills are pretty creative and The Facade Band perform their hit song "Say The Word" (the song also plays over the opening credits). In case you're wondering, the reason I said it might sound weird, is because the film is a horror film. But I don't think horror movie fans will dig the first hour (it plays more like a college sex comedy). That being said, the gruesome finale more than makes up for it, as it's all kinds of insane.

Even though I haven't mentioned her, I think now is as good a time as any to pay tribute to Kimberly (Jennifer Hingel), the sniveling hosebeast who wows the F.I.U. faculty on a semi-regular basis with her leg crossing prowess. Woo-hoo! Cross them legs, girl.

Night Warning (William Asher, 1982)

Let me quickly start things off by giving all you fine folks out there some free advice: Never turn your back on Susan Tyrrell when she's holding a meat cleaver. I don't care if it seems like she's in a good mood, the odds that she will try to hit you with said meat cleaver the moment you turn your back are pretty high. In fact, forget about not turning your back, I would avoid being in the presence of Susan Tyrrell all-together when she's holding a meat cleaver. On the other hand, if I was in Susan Tyrrell's kitchen (let's say I was over there to fix her television) and she began hiking up her skirt in an erotic manner, I would be tickled pink by the sudden upshot in Susan Tyrrell-based titillation. Now, both the scenarios I just put forth do occur in the decidedly off-kilter Night Warning, but it was the so-called "sudden upshot in Susan Tyrrell-based titillation" that sent me over the edge. Envious that Phil Brody (Caskey Swaim), television repairman extraordinaire, was chosen by Susan Tyrrell's Aunt Cheryl to be the man to satisfy her sexual hunger, I sat back and waited for Phil to mount his shapely prize on the kitchen table with bated breath.

Get between those milky thighs, you lucky bastard. Get between them real good. Is what I thought to myself, when I realized that Phil was about to be taken on a wild, pelvic ride.

However, the only thing that's going to be penetrated on this day is Phil's jugular. You heard right, Phil rebuffs Aunt Cheryl's attempt to seduce him. I'll get to jugular penetration in a minute. But let's just say I was flabbergasted by the sight of Phil rejecting the advances of an amorous of Susan Tyrrell; I had trouble fathoming that anyone in their right mind would this.

I mean, does this movie really expect me to believe that a grown man would turn down a free helping of Susan Tyrrell-orchestrated poontang?

Just as I was about to dismiss this movie as unrealistic poppycock, the film throws us a plot twist that does a lot to explain why Phil shunned Aunt Cheryl's lewd overture so assertively.

While a plot twist like this would have been greeted with yawns if it were from a movie made today, back in 1982, the subject was still taboo.

The gayest horror film to come out of the 1980s, Night Warning (a.k.a. Butcher, Baker, Nightmare Maker) doesn't receive this distinction because the film's primary crime solver is a raging bigot with a grudge against "fags." Nor does it receive this distinction because Susan Tyrrell has an inordinate amount of camp appeal. No, the reason this film is so gay is because Jimmy McNichol appears shirtless onscreen a total of seven times. If I have to explain why that's gay, then you clearly don't know gay.

Oh, and, yes, I kept track of how many times Jimmy McNichol appears topless in this movie; it's what I do.

It's a good thing Julia Duffy, the actress who plays Jimmy's heterosexual girlfriend, Julia, was wearing black pantyhose when she talks to a shirtless Jimmy during basketball practice. (Why?) Isn't it obvious? Her pussy would have exploded otherwise. (That doesn't make a lick of sense.) Um, the tightness of her black pantyhose no doubt bore the brunt of the vaginal blast. Duh.

What I think I'm trying to say is this: Whether you're gay, straight, somewhere in-between or Bill Paxton, your genitals won't stand a chance when up against the shirt-free onslaught Jimmy McNichol unleashes in this movie.

You could say this is why Aunt Cheryl (Susan Tyrrell) is so possessive of Jimmy... she wants him all to herself.

After opening with a flashback that shows Billy's parents being killed in a horrific traffic accident back in the late 1960s (his dad's face is smashed in by a log), we jump forward to the early 1980s, where a teenage Billy (Jimmy McNichol) is living in a large house with his Aunt Cheryl. I was going to say that things seem normal enough, but I just remembered that Susan Tyrrell plays Aunt Cheryl. Now, I'm not saying Susan Tyrrell can't play a sane person. But let's get real, shall we? I mean, look at the way Aunt Cheryl wakes up Billy. That's just plain weird.

While Aunt Chery putters around the house in ratty housecoats for most of the day, Billy can usually be found playing basketball at school (he's apparently quite good... despite not being Lithuanian).

Tired of being celibate, Aunt Cheryl gets fixed up and offers herself to the television repairmen. When he rejects her (he pushes her away), Aunt Cheryl does what any cock-starved shut-in would do, she stabs him to death. Just as this is taking place, Billy's comes home. Embarrassed that the television repairmen rejected her, Aunt Cheryl tells Billy that he tried to rape her; a story that Billy believes.

Unfortunately, the same can't be said of Detective Joe Carlson (Bo Svenson) and Sgt. Cook (Britt Leach), who have different theories as to what happened. And, yes, I meant to pluralize the word "theory." You see, Carlson and Cook both have differing opinions as to what transpired in Aunt Cheryl's kitchen. The former thinks Aunt Cheryl is a butch lesbian covering up for her gay son, who killed the gay television repairmen during a lover's quarrel involving Billy's gay basketball coach. While the latter thinks Aunt Cheryl is, to put it mildly, a psycho-hosebeast.

You might be thinking: Wow, Sgt. Cook's assessment of the case is dead-on. However, that doesn't mean it's an open and shut case. The problem is Det. Carlson is so obsessed with the case's gay angle, that all logic is thrown out the window.

I loved how Det. Carlson is set up to be the film's hero, but turns out to be the world's biggest asshole. Of course, I don't know if this was done on purpose or not, but his dogged determination to spin the case into a gay-themed homicide was one of the film's most appealing aspects. The key phrase there being "one of," as there's nothing more appealing than a movie that features a shirtless Jimmy McNichol and a more deranged than usual Susan Tyrrell.