Big Meat Eater (Chris Windsor, 1982)

I don't know where to start, nor do I, as you'll soon find out, know how to string sentences together in a semi-coherent manner. To begin my review of Big Meat Eater with a saucy diatribe about the frilly underthings lurking underneath the orange skirt currently attached to the organic structure of the mayor's secretary seems like an ill-advised thing to do at this juncture. I mean, this film is beyond lingerie. It's chemically engineered lingerie with a hint of linoleum, uranium, plutonium, acid, alkaline, red dye and freon. It's...uh. No, it's radioactive lingerie for the fall-out set. Yeah, that's the stuff. Besides, you can't talk about lingerie, radioactive or otherwise, when robotic space aliens reanimate the corpse of Mayor Carmine Rigatoni and then replace his severed hand with a whisk. Well, you can talk about lingerie, just not right away. To do so would undermine and undercut the uncut weirdness this film, directed by Chris Windsor, un-repeatedly puts out there. Anyway, as things got underway, I thought I had stumbled upon an old educational film from the 1950s that teaches children about the joys of living Burnaby and Coquitlam, British Columbia, or, as it's known in this film, Burquitlam, British Columbia. But in reality, I had actually stumbled upon a zany slab of creamy (Canadian) cinematic goodness.

However, it should be noted, like all great cult films, words like, "British Columbia" and "Canada" are never rarely ever mentioned. Neither are pesky things like, dates and times. No, this film takes place in its own unique universe and don't you forget it.

Believe it or not, Big Meat Eater is a musical about the son of Mordvinian immigrants who dreams of exploring the vast reaches of outer-space. Seriously, that's what the film is about. Living above Bob's Butcher Shop with his kooky family in the forward-looking town of Burquitlam, Jan Wczinski (Andrew Gillies) is desperately trying to gather together the chemicals necessary to launch his himself into the cosmos.

(Don't tell me, a deranged butcher's assistant named "Abdulla," played by Clarence 'Big' Miller, will stop at nothing to prevent Jan from achieving his space dream.) Wow, you are way off. You're right about one thing, though, Abdullah the butcher's assistant is definitely deranged. It's just that Jan and Abdulla the butcher's assistant don't even cross paths. It's true, Jan's actions do have an impact on Abdulla the butcher's assistant's day-to-day existence, just not in the way you might think.

When the person singing "Bob's Theme," the film's opening musical number asks: "Who's that man... strutting down the street?" They're asking a hypothetical question, as everyone knows Bob (George Dawson), he's a respected pillar of the community.

Heading over to Burquitlam's town hall in his usual jovial manner, Bob plans to unveil ADANACO, the new universal language he has created.

The reason, by the way, everyone at the town meeting is sweating so profusely (including the mayor's sexy secretary) is because Abdulla is putting way too much material into the building's furnace. And by "material," I mean henchmen; specifically, one of the mayor's henchmen.

When the mayor catches wind of this, he fires Abdulla. And, no, he wasn't fired because he stuffed one of his henchmen in the furnace, he was fired because he sucks as a janitor. As you might expect, Abdulla is none too pleased to be out of a job. To get back at him, Abdulla murders the mayor outside his office (he severs his fingers with his car's cooling fan).

Tired of lugging the mayor's body across town, Abdulla decides to take a breather. Placing the body (which has been hastily shoved into a large sack) on the sidewalk outside Bob's Butcher Shop, Abdulla goes around to the side of the shop to rest. Mistaking the bag containing the mayor's body for a sack of meat, a delivery man picks it up and carries it into Bob's Butcher Shop. Yep, the mayor's body is now hanging in the freezer of Bob's Butcher Shop: "Pleased to meet you! Meat to please you!"

While trying to get the body back, Abdulla inadvertently lands a job as a butcher's apprentice. This leads to the film's second musical number to feature Abdulla (the first being the boiler room set, "The Baghdad Boogie"), a nasty little ditty called "Big Meat Eater," - "I'm a big meat eater... pass the ham."

"How times flies when you're grinding meat." You said it, Bob. I like this Bob character. He's affable, clean and neat.

Meanwhile, in civics class, Jan Wczinski is patiently listening to his teacher blather on about raising money for the "Crippled Children Car Wash Fund." And when she's not doing that, she's instructing the class the massage their gums. Talk about ridiculous. I mean, you're not going to raise any money putting on a car wash.

As Jan is busy working on his spaceship, his sister Nina (Sharon Wahl) is pouring her mind-altering curves into a tight dress for her date with some guy named Ace. She tells her parents that going to see a 3-D movie called "Panic on Muscle Beach," but I'm not buying that for a second. And neither does Nina's grandma (Ida Carnevali), who says the only 3-D's she's familiar with are death, doom and destruction.

I must say, Big Meat Eater is unlike anything I've ever seen. And I was all ready to give it a mildly enthusiastic review (after all, the mayor's secretary wears an orange skirt and Jan's sister is smoking hot). But then something earth-shattering occurs. Something that supersedes orange skirts and smoking hot sisters. When Jan bumps into Bob outside his butch shop, the latter asks the former where they're going. When Jan says he's going to his room to work on his "science project," Bob asks if he can tag along.

You wouldn't think that Jan and Bob's meeting would be the impetus for one of the greatest scenes in movie history, but it totally is. Standing in Jan's room, surrounded by machine parts and beakers, Bob begins to ask him about his project. When the subject of chemicals comes up, Bob's eyes light up and he goes on a tangent about how important chemicals are. This leads to a Devo-esque song called "Mondo Chemico," a super-catchy show-stopper about–you guessed it–the importance of chemicals.

If that wasn't enough, we're treated a talent show that features a glam rock band performing "Missile Love" (with Nina on keyboards) and robotic aliens who mutate humans in order to further their sinister agenda. When Bob says, "The future lies in the future," he could be referring to this film, as its power to baffle and amaze only gets greater the closer we get to the future. Someone put this movie on a double-bill with John Paizs' Crime Wave, stat!

State Park (Rafal Zielinski, 1988)

Three friends enter Weewankah Park located in the wilds of Michigan... (Hold up. Aren't you going to bemoan the fact that this film is yet another Canadian production pretending to be American?) Nah, I'm done doing that. Besides, State Park (a.k.a. Heavy Metal Summer) was, according to my exhaustive research, shot in both Québec and North Carolina. However, when Rafal Zielinski's name appears in the credits, that should tell all you need to know as far as the national makeup of this motion picture goes. I know, he made Valet Girls, the ultimate L.A. movie. But, for the most part, the bulk of his cinematic output is Canadian. Like I said, though, I'm done doing that. Anyway, where I was? Oh yeah, three friends enter a Yellowstone National Park/Algonquin Provincial Park-style park located in Michigan. It sounds like a simple premise, but what occurs to these three friends whilst inside will... (Don't tell me, it will alter the spiritual trajectory of their lives forever.) It's true, some trajectories of a spiritual nature will be altered; three, to be exact. But the manner in which this film goes about altering these particular trajectories is the stuff of Canuxploitation legend.

Don't believe me? Um, a creamy, freckle-covered redhead dons a bear suit (in the middle of summer) to help a handsome environmentalist save his small business from an unscrupulous land developer.

Still not convinced, eh? How 'bout this. Instead of cheating on her boyfriend by engaging in vaginal intercourse with every able-bodied, penis-owning male in the park, a vivacious blonde gives them all haircuts.

Really? You still need convincing? Okay, if this doesn't convince you, than nothing will. A fashion-forward woman thinks she has landed a real hunk when she uses her no-nonsense gams to bag herself a good-looking fella down by the water. Only problem being, this anatomically correct hunk is actually a punk. Or, to use her words: "He's a heavy metaler!!! A disgusting lowlife!"

And thanks to a well-written scene that took place earlier in the movie, this fashion-forward woman makes it abundantly clear that she despises everything associated with heavy metal.

There you have it, this film has three strong female characters each with their own distinct personalities. Your move, other movies.

The cool thing about each character is that they all reminded me of someone else. The actress who plays Eve (Kim Myers), the creamy, freckle-covered redhead, was a dead ringer for Meryl Streep, while the actress who plays Linnie (Jennifer Inch), the vivacious blonde, had a Kelli Maroney vibe about her.

As for the fashion-forward woman, she reminded me of... Oh, who am I kidding? There's only one Isabelle Mejias. Not to take anything away from Miss Myers and Frau Inch, but the moment I saw Isabelle Mejias appear onscreen as the adorable Marsha, I knew she was going to be my favourite character.

You're right, her character could have turned out to be a real hosebeast. But I didn't care, I was on Team Marsha from the get-go.

Oh, and I just remembered who Isabelle Mejias reminded me of. She reminded me of, that's right, Isabelle Mejias. A channel called Citytv used to air a movie called Unfinished Business all the time back in the days when they didn't run infomercials 24/7, and the female lead was played by none other than Isabelle Mejias.

In an ironic twist, Unfinished Business features music by The Parachute Club. What's that? How is that ironic? Oh, I'm sorry. There's a scene in State Park where Isabelle Mejias is wearing what she describes as a "two hundred dollar jogging suit," and her designer jogging suit, believe or not, practically screamed The Parachute Club.

After enduring the film's goofy opening scene (a guy in a bear suit causes havoc on a construction site) and an opening credits sequence set to a song that was the definition of Yello-esque, we meet our principle cast. From what I gathered by paying attention to what the characters were saying, Eve needs money, Linnie is about to get married and Marsha... Well, Marsha, to put it in the crudest terms possible, just wants to get laid.

How about those guys a few cars back who are also waiting to get into Weewankah Park? What am I saying? Those guys are heavy metalers, and we all know how Marsha feels about heavy metalers. (Are you sure "heavy metalers" is the right term? I mean, I thought "headbanger" was the preferred nomenclature.) It is. But Marsha calls them heavy metalers. Which, in a weird way, makes me like her even more.

When the spiky-haired heavy metaler, Johnny Rocket (Peter Virgile) starts smashing his dark-haired pal, Louis (Louis Tucci), against the side of their van, Marsha says: "Violence is so passe."

Finally entering the camp... Though, you have to wonder how Johnny Rocket and Louis managed to get past Corky (Andrew Jackson), the park's sycophantic head of security? It wouldn't take much for Corky–who, on top of being sycophantic, is a real asshole–to send the heavy metalers packing. Hell, just looking at them would be enough. What I think happened was, Corky temporarily left his post to help Mr. Rancewell (Walter Massey), the area's resident evil businessman.

It would seem that Louis and Johnny Rocket and Eve, Linnie and Marsha have a lot to learn about camping, as both their attempts to prepare food are met with failure. To make matters worse, the women mistake one of Marsha's belts for a snake and Louis's Gerontophobia is brought to forefront when he discovers the camp site next to theirs is occupied by an elderly couple named Tallahassee Ray (Rummy Bishop) and Ethel (Jessica Booker). Upon seeing them, Louis says, "Old people.... weird, man."

Remember when I said that Eve "needs money"? Well, she needs it for collage. And she figures she can earn a quick 5000 bucks by winning the "Wilderness Challenge," a race that involves swimming, running, kayaking and orienteering, or, as Louis calls it, "oriental-teering."

This plan hits a bit of a snag when we discover that Eve doesn't know jack-shit about orienteering. And, to make matters worse, all the orienteering classes are booked solid. So what's a freckle-covered redhead with alabaster thighs to do? After rebuffing her first request to help her, Truckie Honeycutt (James Wilder), the owner of the Honeycutt Market, is given no choice but to help her when Eve threatens to reveal Truckie's secret identity. That's right, Truckie is a mild-mannered store owner by day, a bear suit-wearing environmental activist by night.

You see, while wandering the woods, Eve spotted a man carrying what looked a bear suit through the woods. She didn't see his face, but she did see his ass (which was packaged in a pair of tight cut-off jean shorts). Well, later that day, Eve saw that ass again (packaged in the same tight cut-off jean shorts). Anyone wanna guess who was attached to that ass? Yep, it was none other than Truckie.

Oh, and don't feel too sorry for Truckie for being saddled with a name like Truckie, his younger brother's name after all is Trailor (Christopher Bolton); who, by the way, spends the majority of the movie hitting on Linnie.

While Linnie is busy giving random dudes "haircuts" and Eve is out "orienteering" in the woods with Truckie, Marsha has decided to snag herself a man. Grabbing her trusty binoculars and slipping into a Adrienne Vittadini one-piece bathing suit, Marsha scopes the beach for man candy.

Spotting a colossal man-babe in the water, Marsha positions herself on the dock so that the first things he sees when he comes ashore are her sexy stems. Repositioning her legs in order to maximize their impact on the male viewer, Marsha uses her shapely lower half the same way a fishermen uses a lure to land himself a mackerel or a bass.

To surprise of no-one, Marsha catches her prey with relative ease. What is a surprise, however, is the identity of the man she caught. Yep, the guy Marsha snagged by employing her first-rate gams is none other than Johnny Rocket. Robbed of his spiky hair, make-up, leather jacket and chains, Marsha doesn't seem to realize that she has just fallen for a heavy metaler!

Will Marsha be able to put aside her prejudice towards heavy metalers and embrace the power of love? Will Linnie run out of men to give haircuts to? Will Eve win the Wilderness Challenge? Will Louis get over his fear of old people? Will...

Enough with the questions, tell the nice people if this film is good or not. Right. So, yeah, it's good and junk. In fact, it was more than good. It was refreshing to watch a camp-based movie that doesn't involve a masked psycho-killer murdering teens or one that has to rely so heavily on crass humour. Boasting a strong pro-environmental message, State Park (a.k.a. Heavy Metal Summer) taught me that you shouldn't judge people based on their clothing, some old people are not lame, and slow and steady does in fact win the race.

Killer Party (William Fruet, 1986)

I don't mean to imply that the rest of Killer Party (a.k.a. The April Fools) is complete crap, but the first eight or so minutes of this Toronto shot slasher flick are freakin' amazing. And... Okay, I might as well get this out of the way before I continue: There's a scene in this film where an American flag can be seen lurking in the corner of a university library (it's lurking behind Paul Bartel to be specific). I know, I said it was "Toronto shot," and the last time I checked, Toronto wasn't in the United States of America, but the makers of this film clearly don't want you to know that. Anyway, getting back to the opening eight or so minutes. Were the first eight or so minutes and what transpires afterward made by the same people? I mean, the opening is bursting with creativity, while the other stuff is bursting with nothing whatsoever. Don't get me wrong, I did love what Elaine Wilkes, Sherry Willis-Bunch and Joanna Johnson brought to the table as a trio of collage age best friends who want to join a prestigious sorority at a Toronto university, but they can't compete with black seamed pantyhose and pink and blonde crimped hair.

Just to clarify, the black seamed pantyhose were attached to the shapely legs of Elizabeth Hanna, who plays Stephanie, the daughter-in-law of the dead woman in the coffin at a church funeral,  and the pink and blonde crimped hair belongs to Danielle Kiraly, who plays April, a bubbly teen attending a drive-in movie with her boyfriend.

Now, you're probably thinking to yourself: What are these characters doing in the same movie? That's just it, they're not in the same movie. Are you ready? Here it goes: Stephanie's a character is in the movie April is watching at the drive-in. Isn't that wild?

What's that? You say lot's of movies do the old movie within a movie gag. Oh yeah. Things get even wilder when we discover that April is actually a character in a Thriller-style hard rock music video by White Sister. See what I mean? Weird, wild stuff.

Anyone care to guess who's watching this Thriller-style hard rock music video? That's right, one of the college age women from that trio I mentioned earlier.

I don't mean to continue to rag on everything that occurs after it's revealed that April's in a music video, but it's almost as if the people behind this movie decided to throw in the towel after the eight minute mark.

Though, to be fair, "Best Times," written by Alan Brackett and Scott Shelly–the song that plays while Phoebe (Elaine Wilkes), Vivia (Sherry Willis-Bunch) and Jennifer (Joanna Johnson) ride their bikes to class–is a thousand times more awesome than that White Sister song.

Opening with a funeral service for a woman named Annabel, we watch as the bereaved family members leave the church. Just as the aforementioned Stephanie is about exit, she asks the priest if it's okay to go back in to pay her respects one last time. Hmm, isn't that sweet, I thought to myself, Stephanie must have really loved her mother-in-law. Oh, wait, she just told Annabel that she hopes she rots in hell. After she says this, multiple times, mind you, Annabel grabs Stephanie and pulls her into the coffin. As she's pulling her in, we get some great shots of Stephanie's black pantyhose as she struggles with what I assume is Annabel's reanimated corpse.

Just as the coffin is about to be set alight in the church's crematorium, we're whisked to a drive-in movie theatre where April and her boyfriend (who is all hands) are watching Stephanie burn to death.

Hankering some popcorn, April walks, or, I should say, skips, to the theatre's large, neon-light adorned concession area. Only problem is, there's no-one there. On the bright side, the neon lighting does an excellent job accentuating the 1980s overkill that is April's overall look.

The crimped hair, the kooky tights, the pink gloves, the white lace scrunchie, everything about her ensemble practically screams shopping mall new wave.

Suddenly, out of nowhere, a rock video featuring bombastic lead singers with hairy chests, keyboardists in torn football jerseys and zombies starts up.

As the music video is winding down and the band "White Sister" finish singing: "April! You're no fool!" We're whisked (yet again) to a living room, where Phoebe is watching the White Sister music video.

It helps to know that this movie's original title was "The April Fools" going in, because if you didn't (like I didn't), you would no doubt wonder what the hell is going on.

If you're like me, and you love '80s synth-pop with detached female vocals, think the University of Toronto campus is beautiful, especially in the fall, and wish more movies would sport chicks riding bikes, then the next sequence is for you.

While her friends Phoebe and Vivia are gung-ho about joining the Sigma Alpha Pi sorority, Jennifer is a tad apprehensive.

It wouldn't be a collage set horror film without pranks, and we get a real doozy of a prank when the slobs at Beta Tau unleash a jar of bees next to a backyard hot tub filled with naked Sigma Alpha Pi ladies. There are numerous things to like about this scene. But I think the appearance of the great Terri Hawkes (Hello Mary Lou: Prom Night II) is the real reason to cheer. Quirky fun-fact: Terri Hawkes provides the voice of Sailor Moon on the series of the same name.

If Phoebe, Jen and Vivia want to join Sigma Alpha Pi, they're going to have to convince the sorority's leader, Veronica (a wonderfully unpleasant Alicia Fleer), they're worthy. And if that means reciting childish nonsense ("I, myself prefer a big fat cucumber") or stealing t-shirts from Beta Taus, than so be it.

Even though Paul Bartel (Eating Raoul), who plays an English professor, makes an allusion to it, I still love the fact that no explanation is given as to why Phoebe, Jen and Vivia are all wearing one red item and one white item on their feet (mismatched sisterly solidarity perhaps?). If memory serves me correctly, Phoebe has on one red shoe and one white shoe, Jen is wearing one red sock and one white sock, Vivia is rocking one red legwarmer and one white legwarmer.

Surviving "Goat Night," Sigma Alpha Pi's elaborate initiation process (a process where Terri Hawkes and Alicia Fleer appear in togas), Phoebe, Jen and Vivia are on the fast track to becoming fully fledged members of the sorority. Yay!

Fashion-wise, I don't know which I liked better: The sight Sherry Willis-Burch rocking a pink sweater with a yellow neck or Alicia Fleer gliding down the school's hallways in a tight pencil skirt. Ahh, talk about your tough decisions. Either way, nothing comes close to topping the ensemble Danielle Kiraly wears during the film's much ballyhooed opening.

I don't know why movies like this bother to hire make-up artists and special effects people if all they're going to do is edit out all the blood and gore. The film might be called "Killer Party," but not a single character is killed onscreen. Boo!

On the plus side, the so-called "Killer Party" does feature some killer looks. And if I was going to give out the prize for best costume at Sigma Alpha Pi and Beta Tau's Costume Party: April Fools Night, I would have to go with Phoebe's aerobics get-up: Tights! Legwarmers! Leotards! Headbands! Armwarmers! Oh my! Second prize would go to Martin (Ralph Seymour), the film's primary red herring, for his Madame Bovary costume.

Would have Killer Party been a lot better had the blood and gore not been edited out? Maybe. But still, if you like '80s fashion, '80s music, or are a fan of Toronto... in the '80s, you should check this flick out.