The Hidden (Jack Sholder, 1987)

A super-sexy and more lithe than usual Claudia Christian wields a Steyr AUG and a Mossberg 500 Bullpup whilst wearing a red thong near the middle portion of the totally kick ass 1980s sci-fi action thriller, The Hidden, a staple on Citytv in the early '90s. (Quirky fun-fact: Before television was ruined by infomercials and reality shows, some channels used to show movies.) Okay, now that I got that out of the way (for me to not mention Claudia Christian, her red thong ensnared butt-crack or the sweet ass guns she fires in this movie straight out of the gate would be tantamount to treason), let me quickly take care of some industrial music-based business. When one of the senator's body guards yells, "Back against the wall now!," I thought: Hmm, that sounds strangely familiar. Where have I heard that line before? Oh, who am I kidding? I knew the line was sampled in the Front Line Assembly track "No Limit," taken from their album "Gashed Senses and Crossfire," the instant I heard it uttered. And to think, my "friends" used to tell me there were no benefits to listening to electro-industrial music.

Show me any horror or action film made during the 1980s and I'll be able to identify which electro-industrial group sampled from it within five seconds of hearing it. Yeah, I know, it's a pretty impressive talent. Though, you have to wonder, if I'm so talented, how is it possible that I haven't gotten laid since Donald Igwebuike was kicking field goals, kick offs and extra points for the Tampa Bay Buccaneers? Weird.

Anyway, is this film, directed by Jack Sholder and written Jeff Kouf, a parody of '80s action movies?

In the film's opening chase sequence, a wanted criminal named Jack DeVries (Chris Mulkey), who just robbed a bank and is using a stolen black Ferrari as his getaway car, crashes it through a large pane of glass that was being carried across the street by two men. And get this, moments earlier, he crashes through some construction barriers. And to make the scene even more cliched, the construction workers frantically wave their hands in the air in a futile attempt to stop the out of control luxury sports car.

The fact that the construction workers dodged out of the way at the last minute is definitely cliched. But you'll notice that glass moving guys weren't so lucky. And as anyone who's well-acquainted with the crashing through the pane of glass gag will tell you, the guys (who are usually wearing jumpsuits) don't usually get hurt. Meaning, The Hidden is not ashamed to embrace '80s action movie cliches, but it's not afraid to ridicule them either.

Similar in the way the movie Dead Heat deftly combined the buddy cop movie with a zombie flick, The Hidden is a buddy cop movie crossed with a film about body snatching aliens who dig fast cars, adore trashy women and like to blast Concrete Blonde on their illegally obtained boomboxes.

After the aforementioned Jack DeVries is riddled with bullets and badly burned during a high speed pursuit through the streets of West Hollywood, the slug-like alien that is controlling DeVries decides to use the body of the patient lying in the bed next to him. Only problem being, the body belongs to Jonathan Miller (William Boyett),  a man with some serious gastrointestinal problems.

Since it's obvious "it" loves loud music and fast cars, it only makes sense that his first stop after leaving the hospital be a record store. Stuffing cassettes in his pockets with a reckless abandon, Mr. Miller seems somewhat out of place–you know, with him being a paunchy middle-aged man with serious gastrointestinal problems. Serious gastrointestinal problems or not, it doesn't stop him from beating the creeper-wearing record store clerk to death with his own club.

Meanwhile, back at police headquarters, Det. Tom Beck (Michael Nouri) is finishing up the paperwork for the DeVries case, when an F.B.I. agent named Lloyd Gallagher (Kyle MacLachlan) tells the detective that he's been assigned to help catch Jack DeVries. (Doesn't the F.B.I. know Jack DeVries is lying near death in the hospital?) Apparently not.

When Agent Gallagher rushes over to the hospital, it would seem that he's too late, as all he finds there is a dead Jack Devries. It would also seem that Agent Gallagher knows the thing that caused Jack DeVries go on his crime spree (he was mild-mannered family man two weeks ago) is still on the loose.

Figuring that the creature moved into the body of the patient next to him, Agent Gallagher sets his sights on Jonathan Miller. Of course, Tom Beck can't quite understand why Gallagher wants to track down Mr. Miller (he has no criminal record). In fact, from Tom Beck's perspective, none of this makes any sense.

However, when the bodies start piling up (Mr. Miller kills a few people at a Ferrari dealership), Tom Beck begins to think that Jack DeVries and Jonathan Miller might have been in cahoots. Mind you, he doesn't think they're being controlled by an intergalactic space slug, but he's getting there.

As luck would have it, one of the guys Mr. Miller kills at the Ferrari dealership happens to be a gun runner. And when Mr. Miller (using the address on his business card) goes to his office, he stumbles upon a cache of bullpup firearms.

Unfortunately, Mr. Miller's body is slowly becoming a terrible host. Hopping in his brand new red Ferrari, Mr. Miller heads the Harem Club to look for a new body.

Finally, we have Claudia Christian. Dancing on stage at the Harem Club, Claudia's Brenda Lee Van Buren might not know it yet, but her wondrous body has been selected to be the alien's next host.

Call me crazy, but I thought the outfits worn by Harem Club waitress staff were a tad on the skimpy side. (A tad?!?) Okay, they were whatever the opposite of a tad is. The point being, if I was a man who possessed genitals that were fully-functional, I would be down at the Harem Club ogling lingerie-clad goddesses and ordering Mai Tai's like a bandit every night.

The difference between what the women living on the so-called fringes of society wear on a day-to-day basis and what mainstream ladies are wearing is staggering.

The best example of this style variance can be found between the witness to the record store homicide, a.k.a. "Record Store Girl" (Jill Friedman),  and the woman who tells the alien to fuck off, a.k.a. "Rodeo Drive Girl" (Lenna Robinson).

While the Record Store Girl's ensemble is teeming with quirky flourishes, the Rodeo Drive Girl's outfit exudes nothing but staid conformity.

Just for the record, the Record Store Girl is wearing a white tutu, a black bomber jacket and black tights with white socks, and Rodeo Drive Girl is wearing a white shirt with green pants and a chunky belt.

Getting back to Claudia Christian for a minute: Since her character lives on the fringes of society, her wardrobe reflects this outsider status. Though, I thought the coin slot exposing nature of her dress was a bit much. I mean, it's fine to wear inside the Harem Club. But it isn't something to wear to the corner store. Or maybe I'm just being a prude.

Either way, the film's best moments are when Kyle MacLachlan and Michael Nouri go after Claudia Christian, who fires a Mossberg 500 Bullpup and a Steyr AUG at them during an extended chase sequence; one that culminates on the roof of a mannequin factory.

Speaking of guns, when the alien sets its sights on the body of a U.S. senator, we're treated to some excellent Uzi action. The great thing about the Uzi shoot out is that they're being used properly (in close quarters). And the people firing them, for the most part, employ obstacles as cover (most Uzi users in movies fire them wildly in wide open spaces).

Take special note when a cop, played by Law and Order's Richard Brooks, shows Kyle MacLachlan's character a flamethrower he seized during a recent bust, as it will make a significant second appearance later on in the film.

Oh, and did anyone else tear up at the end? I'm not saying I did or anything like that, I'm just asking a simple question. At any rate, I laughed, I might have cried, I saw Claudia Christian's butt-crack. Four stars. 

The Dark Backward (Adam Rifkin, 1991)

In most movies, when a character stumbles upon the body of a naked woman at the local dump, their first instinct is to call the authorities. Well, how should I put this? The Dark Backward is not even close to being most movies. In fact, it's unlike anything I've ever seen. Oh, sure, parts it reminded me of Eraserhead (and I'm not just saying this because it mentions it on the film's poster), Blade Runner, Shredder Orpheus, The King of Comedy and Dr. Caligari. But the film, written and directed by Adam Rifkin (Detroit Rock City), is definitely a unique experience. Don't believe me? Um, Judd Nelson plays a struggling stand-up comic whose best friend is a chubby chasing, accordion-playing garbageman played by Bill Paxton. Any questions? I don't mean to toot my own horn (or squeeze my own accordion), but what was great about that last sentence is that I didn't need to allude to the fact that Judd Nelson's character grows a third arm. What's not so great about that last sentence is the fact that I called Bill Paxton's character a "chubby chaser." Trust me, he ain't no chubby chaser. The chicks he bangs in this movie are beyond chubby. Not to get too graphic, but I think Pickles' left bicep weighs more than me (Pickles being, of course, one of the morbidly obese women Bill Paxton mounts-thanks to sheer industriousness-and ultimately fucks in this movie).

Wait, that wasn't graphic at all. What I should have was: I think Pickles' rarely seen labia weighs more than me ("rarely seen" because it's shielded by a mountain range of abdominal flesh). While not factually accurate (her labia doesn't gain weight, and, hence, it does not weigh more than me), I think most people will agree that labias are funnier than biceps. Actually, anything cunt-based is a hundred times funnier than anything arm-based; just ask  jazz aficionado Soupy Sales. Whatta you mean he's dead? Criminy.

It's too bad Marty Malt (Judd Nelson) and I weren't best friends, as I could have taught him a thing or two about comedy. Instead, he's best friends with a guy named Gus (Bill Paxton), a sycophantic cheerleader who fills Marty's head with delusional nonsense on a daily basis. The biggest delusion being that he's actually funny.

They say the majority of comedy comes from pain, and it looks like Marty Malt is going to find this out the hard way when a painful nodule on the middle of his back grows into a human arm. I know, I said cunt-based humour is superior to arm-based humour. But arm-based humour is nothing to sneeze at. Granted, I can't think of any comedians off the top of my head who have had successful careers utilizing arm-based humour in their act. But I don't see why someone couldn't. I mean, arms can be funny, especially if you know a how to flail them properly.

I'm sorry, I'm trying to figure out why I compared The Dark Backward to Blade Runner a couple of paragraphs ago. The others I can sort of see. But Blade Runner? I'm just not seeing it. Hold on, I just remembered. When Marty and Gus are leaving Syd's comedy club after another terrible/awesome show, the camera hovers over this rooftop. And as we're doing so, I spotted a pile of dust-laden trash. Well, in Blade Runner, when Deckard is entering the police station, the camera hovers over the roof of Bryant's office. Anyone care to guess what's on the roof of Bryant's office? That's right, dust-laden trash.

Though, I think it's safe to say that The Dark Backward beats the snot out of Blade Runner in terms of garbage. Seriously, this film is wall-to-wall trash. And I mean that as a compliment.

Did I mention that Gus forces two of his morbidly obese girlfriends to eat dog food off his nipples?

Introduced to the "comedy stylings" of Marty Malt right off the bat, a sweaty Judd Nelson takes the stage at Syd's, a local club that seems to cater to the over 75 crowd. Telling a joke about buying stamps and one where his pet turtle turns out to be a rock, things are going pretty bad for the comedian in the pea green suit. Or are they? According to his accordion-playing pal Gus, he was hilarious and tells him afterward that the audience was laughing on the inside.

I'm thinking that Gus is either humouring his friend or that he has serious mental problems. I'm leaning more toward the latter. Judging by Gus' overall demeanour, he seems to have a few screws loose. (You mean he ain't hooked up right?) That's exactly what I mean, and Bill Paxton plays up Gus' insanity to the hilt. If you're like me and thought Bill's wacky antics were the best things about Aliens and Near Dark, you'll love his performance in this film, as he makes Nic Cage's gonzo turn in Deadfall seem restrained.

One of the keys to impressing me, cinema-wise, is the ability to create a world unto itself. And The Dark Backward manages to do that and then some. Shirking nationalism and popular culture, the film has its own ecosystem.

Take, for instance, the whole "Blump's" thing. Now, I'm not entirely sure what Blump's is, but they seem to have cornered the market for pretty much everything. Whether it be squeezable bacon, pork juice, beef, scab medicine, cigars/cigarettes, lemon fresh suppositories or cheddar-scented cheese, Blump's have got you covered.

Even Marty and Gus seem to be under the thumb of Blump's, as they work for their sanitation division. Though, I have to say, they're not very good at their jobs (the bulk of the trash they pick up rarely ever makes it into the back of the garbage truck).

One day, as they're out on their route, Gus notices a lump in the middle of Marty's back. No biggie, right? It's just an insect bite. After Gus molests a corpse at the dump, Marty takes a second stab at Syd's club. And like the opening set, it does not go well, as the geriatrics in the audience remain stone-faced throughout his painfully unfunny act.

While Marty has Lara Flynn Boyle's diner waitress to lean on for support, Gus has his portly harem of obese woman to eat stir fried dog food off his nipples. Lucky bastard. (Which one?) Which one what? (Which one is the lucky bastard?) Uh, I'd rather not say at this particular juncture.

As Marty's lump grows into an arm, he looses the support of Lara Flynn Boyle (she can't handle dating a guy with three arms) and gets nothing but confused looks from Dr. Scurvy (James Caan) and Nurse Kitty (Claudia Christian). But he does find an ally in Jackie Chrome (Wayne Newton), a talent agent. When Jackie saw Marty's act without the third arm, he reacted the way almost everyone does: Hostile indifference. But now that Marty has a three arms as supposed to just two, Jackie sees this as an opportunity to turn his abnormality into fame and fortune.

Re-branding them as "Desi the Three-Armed Wonder Comic and his musical accompaniment Gus," Jackie books Marty and Gus at a number of different clubs throughout the city. Of course, the results are the exactly same as they were before the third arm came along (Marty is still not funny, and Gus' accordion playing does nothing but confuse the audience), but Jackie seems to think the three-armed comic has potential.

It's true, production designer (Sherman Williams) and art director (Wendy Guidery) deserve a lot of the credit for making this the cult classic that it is today, it's actually the visionary weirdness of writer-director Adam Rifkin that elevates it to the status of off-kilter masterpiece. Screw that, everyone involved with this film needs to be commended.