King of New York (Abel Ferrara, 1990)

Since my opinion regarding the quality of Abel Ferrara's King of New York might get lost in a half baked haze of  nonsensical wordplay revolving around leggy floozies. I think I should state right up front that this movie rules. Sure, the extended gun battle/car chase sequence goes on a little too long, but the film is sexy, stylish and wonderfully violent. Okay, now that we got that out of the way, let's talk leggy floozies, shall we? After showing Christopher Walken's charismatic crime boss, Frank White, being released from prison, we're whisked inside some kind of bordello. The film has barely got underway, and I'm already up to my ears in leggy floozies. And not only that, one of the leggy floozies is wearing white stockings. At first I thought the leggy floozy in white stockings was played by Phoebe Legere (The Toxic Avenger Part II)–you know, since I've yet to see her in a movie where she doesn't wear white stockings. However, it's obvious that Phoebe Legere, who is credited as "Bordello Woman," is the floozy sitting at the piano. Well, whoever plays the leggy floozy in the white stockings in the bordello scene near the beginning of King of New York, I thought she did a bang up job at... being a leggy floozy. I mean, I really got the sense that she was leggy (the white stockings helped) and that she was a floozy (she's slobbering all over some pimp like he was a chew toy).

It should be noted that when the pimp goes outside to make a phone call at a nearby phone booth, he's gunned down by a gang of thugs. It would seem that the gunmen work for Frank White, who is already making his presence felt (he's only been out of prison for a few hours).

While I'll miss the leggy floozies who worked for the pimp who was filled full of lead, we're quickly introduced to Raye (Theresa Randle) and Melanie (Carrie Nygren), Frank's go-to leggy floozies. Or are they? Don't get me wrong, they're definitely leggy, especially Raye. But I wouldn't call Raye and Melanie floozies. And I wouldn't even call them gangster's molls. No, the services Raye and Melanie provide Frank go way beyond anything I've seen women do in a movie of this type.

Usually relegated to lounging sexily in the background, women are rarely given much to do in movies about gangsters. Well, I think it's safe to say that Frank White isn't your typical gangster. And this irregular approach also applies to the women in his life.

Integral to the day-to-day operation of his criminal empire, which he runs out of a suite in the Plaza Hotel, Faye and Melanie act as his Frank's bodyguards and do his bookkeeping on a pair of 1989-era computers. If you're wondering which of them Frank is fucking, don't be crude. If you must know, he ain't fucking either of them. No, Frank is actually dating Jennifer (Janet Julian), who also happens to be his lawyer. So, you see, women play a big role in Frank's life. Which, I must say, is something I found quite refreshing.

Some might argue that the pronounced role that women play gives the film an unrealistic air. I say, poppycock to that. If you want to see a bunch of guys doing gangster shit in and around New York City, watch one of them Martin Scorsese flicks, or better yet, try the Godfather films. If you want to watch a New York City gangster movie that has a slightly oft-kilter vibe to it, watch an Abel Ferrara film. Hell, even the two episodes of Miami Vice he directed ("The Dutch Oven" and "The Home Invaders") have a slightly oft-kilter vibe about them.

However, and this should come as no surprise, the bulk of this particular film's oft-killer vibe can be attributed to Christopher Walken, whose performance is... well, it's... you know. Let's just say, it's more Walken-esque than usual. In other words, he glares, he dances (to Schooly-D), he shoots people... repeatedly. It's classic Walken.

The fact that his character is so beloved by the likes of Laurence Fishburne (Jimmy Jump, yo), Giancarlo Esposito and Leonard L. Thomas, who play Frank White's fiercely loyal lieutenants, does nothing but add to the film's already surreal temperament. Oh, and it doesn't hurt that Steve Buscemi plays Test Tube, Frank White's "chemist." I love the scene where Fishburne (whose performance is beyond manic - he can't even order chicken without incident) and Buscemi team up to take down a gang of rival drug dealers. Sadly, Buscemi's character goes AWOL just as Frank is about to consolidate his power.

Oh, did I mention that the leggy floozy in the white stockings from the bordello scene was wearing a peaked cap? I didn't? That's weird. Well, I'm mentioning it now.

Which is also a good time to mention the woman sitting behind Frank and Jennifer at a play. You see, she's wearing a peaked cap as well. Was this a trend or something back then? Either way, I'm digging it.

With the exception of the cops, played by Victor Argo, Wesley Snipes, David Caruso and Frankenhooker's James Lorrinz (I love this guy), everyone in this film is impeccably dressed.

Speaking of Frankenhooker, Lia Chang, who plays one of the hookers (her butt, if memory serves me correctly, becomes a part of "Frankenhooker") is the gangster's moll to a drug dealer named Larry Wong (Joey Chin). Seen at a screening of Nosferatu and again during a shoot-out in a Chinatown alleyway, Lia Chang always has this knowing smirk on his face that churns my butter in the right direction, if you know what I mean.

I almost forgot. Like Raye and Melanie, Lia Chang is no mere leggy floozy. She gets in a back-alley SMG battle with Christopher Walken while wearing a super-tight black mini-dress. And trust me, it's as awesome as it sounds.

Filmed at a time when New York City was still the coolest place on Earth (the spring of 1989), King of New York, despite the cliched subject matter (I'm not a fan of mob/gangster movies - I find their antics to be distasteful, overly macho and boring as fuck), manages to stand out from goombah/gangsta crowd. Anchored by Christopher Walken, and, to a lesser extent, Laurence Fishburne, who both give wonderfully unhinged performances, the film is, like I said earlier, sexy, stylish and violent. Oh, and apparently the word "fuck" is uttered a total of 90 times.

A Nightmare on Elm Street 3: Dream Warriors (Chuck Russell, 1987)

To be fair, Heather Langenkamp's Nancy Thompson was only sixteen or seventeen years-old in the first movie (even though, according to her, she looked twenty). In other words, I shouldn't have expected too much, as far as sophistication goes, when it came to her clothes and make-up. Unwilling to cut her and her movie a break, I deemed A Nightmare on Elm Street as un-reviewable after it was over. Not giving me much to work with when it came to style and fashion, I rejected the film on that basis, and that basis alone. Don't get me wrong, the film, written and directed by Wes Craven (The People Under the Stairs), is definitely well-made. It just failed to move me. On the other hand, A Nightmare on Elm Street 2: Freddy's Revenge did nothing but move me. Seriously, I love that movie. With my interest in the Freddy K. saga reinvigorated thanks to the gayest horror sequel the 1980s ever produced, I was ready to continue my journey down Elm Street. Unfortunately, the first name listed in the opening credits for A Nightmare on Elm Street 3: Dream Warriors was Heather Langenkamp. This caused me much alarm, as I feared that part three would be a repeat of what happened in the first film. Sure, this one is directed by Chuck Russell, who also made the amazing remake of The Blob. But that being said, my expectations, I have to say, were pretty low as things got underway.

My mood perked up almost immediately, however, as Chuck Russell's immense talent as a filmmaker is clearly evident in the opening scene. Which features Patricia Arquette's Kirsten Parker wandering through a creepy nightmare-world. It's true, all the films in the series so far (even Mahalkaal, the Bollywood remake of the first film) boast opening scenes that feature frightened dreamers exploring the sinister confines of their own nightmares. But the scene that opens A Nightmare on Elm Street 3: Dream Warriors is way more polished than the others.

So, like I said, I was in a good mood. What I mean is. I'm not going to let Heather Langenkamp's lack of flair in the fashion department ruin what could potentially be a pretty effective horror sequel.

After Kristen Parker's weird dream is over, her mega-milf of a mom, Elaine (the smokin' hot Brooke Bundy), finds her in the bathroom in the process of slitting her wrists. Even though we know that Fred Krueger (Robert Englund) is the one responsible for the wrist cutting, her mom sends her to a  juvenile psych ward run by... YES!!!! The  juvenile psych ward Kirsten is sent to is run by Craig Wasson, who played the white pantie-loving, porn-curious voyeur in Body Double.

Just as an orderly named Max (Larry Fishburne) is finishing up giving the audience a tour of the ward, we hear a commotion transpiring down the hall. It would seem that Kristen is having a bit of a conniption fit. Grabbing a scalpel, Kirsten threatens to cut anyone, including Craig Wasson's Neil Gordon and Max the orderly, who stands in her way.

As she's singing the One, Two, Freddy's Coming For You nursery rhyme, and about to really go off the deep end, an über-chic woman walks in the door and defuses the situation with a devil may care brand of elan. Hugging the über-chic woman, as the hospital staff look on with amazement, Kristen... Hold on. I don't believe this. The über-chic woman is Heather Langenkamp!

I don't know what happened between the first movie and this one, but Nancy Thompson is no longer the gawky teen with terrible taste in clothes we once knew. No, what you're looking at now is a modern woman who knows how to throw together an ensemble in a pinch.

We're talking blazers, skirts with slits, pumps, hats, shawls, pearls, lipstick, earrings, and blouses... lot's of blouses. (Don't forget, she carries a purse now.) Oh, yeah. She carries a purse. You see, teenagers don't have much use for purses. Adult women, however, need purses. After all, where else are they gonna put their experimental anti-psychotic medication?

Oh, haven't you heard? Nancy Thompson takes this drug to keep Fred Krueger at bay. She suggests to Neil that his patients, including Kristen; Kincaid, a.k.a. "Cool Breeze" (Ken Sagos); Joey (Rodney Eastman); Phillip, a.k.a. "The Walker" (Bradley Gregg); Jennifer (Penelope Sudrow); Will, a.k.a. "The Wizard Master" (Ira Heiden); and Taryn (Jennifer Rubin), take the drug as well, but he's a tad hesitant, as he doesn't buy the whole "a knife-glove-wielding serial killer is tormenting the children of the parents who burned him to death in their dreams" story.

During her first night at the hospital, Kirsten is confronted in her dreams by Fred Krueger. Except, instead of simply slashing her to death with his knife-glove, Fred transforms himself into a giant worm. As the Fred worm is consuming Kristen, she decides to yell out Nancy's name. And lo and behold, Nancy hears her, and, get this, enters Kirsten's dream to help her. (Wait, she can do that?) Apparently. It's a pretty cool addition to the mythology.

The next day, all the patient characters I mentioned earlier and Nancy and Neil partake in a group session, where "straight-talk" is encouraged. Other than Taryn's weird hand gestures, the only other thing worth noting about this scene is that Phillip has a lot of dialogue. Hmm, I wonder if he's going to be Fred's first victim.

As Nancy and Neil talk Hypnocil (an experimental anti-psychotic medication) at Springwood's best and only Thai restaurant, and Joey and Will sleep in shifts (the logic being, they can wake each other if their dreams get too intense), Phillip begins to sleepwalk through the ward. Sounds innocent enough. Except, Phillip, a guy who makes marionette puppets in his spare time, is being controlled by Fred. And instead of using puppet string, Fred is using Phillip's tend... You know what? I can't finish talking about this scene. It has to be one of the most disturbing things I've ever seen.
  

While not as disturbing as the tendon puppet scene, the TV room scene is just as memorable. It also causes you to start paying attention to what the characters are saying. You see, Phillip mentions that he likes to make his own puppets, and he's killed in the manner I alluded to earlier. And the TV room character says something about wanting to be on television someday.

Well, I guess you can't really pay attention to what Joey says, as he doesn't talk. But he does openly lust after  Nurse Marcie (Stacey Alden), who, for some strange reason, doesn't wear white stockings (she does wear a white thong, though). Meaning, you can expect Fred to use Joey's thing for Nurse Marcie when it comes to time to fuck his shit up.

Anyway, the fact that each character's run-in with Fred corresponds with an aspect of their personality is one of the film's strong points. My favourite run-in, of course, being Fred's back-alley confrontation with Taryn, whose dream persona is a double switchblade-wielding punk rocker.

When I first saw Taryn (moping the halls of the hospital like a unkempt rag-doll), I was like: Why is she so goddamn frumpy? I mean, someone lend this girl a hair brush, stat. Little did I know that they were going to give her the punk makeover to end all punk makeovers later on in the movie.

Oh, and being that she's a recovering drug addict, Taryn should expect Fred to use her addiction against her when the time comes.

When it becomes obvious that Freddy plans on bumping off the youthful patients one by one, Nancy, Kristen and those not killed yet, decide to confront him as a team, or, you could say, confront him as "dream warriors."

While I'll admit, I have a major soft spot for A Nightmare on Elm Street 2: Freddy's Revenge, I can't deny that A Nightmare on Elm Street 3: Dream Warriors is superior in almost every way imaginable. Now, granted, it doesn't have part two's gay subtext, but there's more to life than gay subtexts. Seriously, the so-called "kills" are so wonderfully inventive, that you'll have no choice to look past the fact that it has zero gay subtext. Or maybe it does (have a gay subtext), and I just missed it. Nah.

Quicksilver (Tom Donnelly, 1986)

Would someone get these guys some helmets, was my first thought as I watched Kevin Bacon, Laurence Fishburne (Band of the Hand), Paul Rodriguez and Louis Anderson whiz through Manhattan traffic on their bikes in Quicksilver, the best disgraced stockbroker turned bike courier movie to come out in 1986. Then it dawned on me, people in the mid-80s didn't care about safety. I should know, I suffered a nasty gash to the head after falling off my bike as a kid; I wonder if the scar is still there? (this, by the way, occurred when I was a kid during the mid-2000s, not the mid-80s... I'm not some senile old fuck). Anyway, as this was dawning on me, I suddenly realized that this film would also have us believe that Louis Anderson is a New York City bike courier. I'll let that mental image sink in a bit. Think about it: Louis Anderson, bike courier. Actually, the thought of Paul Rodriguez riding a bicycle is pretty ridiculous as well (he just doesn't strike me as the athletic type). That being said, Kevin Bacon and Laurence Fishburne definitely do some bike riding in this movie. Granted, they probably used stunt doubles in the wide shots, but you could totally tell it was them during the close-ups.

Not seen as a long term career, your average NYC bike courier views his or her (but mostly his -- the film is severely lacking when it comes to showing female bike couriers) time in this particular racket as a stepping stone to something better.

At constant risk of being run over by the thousands of cars that race through the downtown core on a daily basis, the bike courier figures if they survive long enough, they can make enough money to allow them to pursue a less dangerous vocation.

However, in the case of a hot shot stockbroker named Jack Casey (Kevin Bacon), the opposite is true. Falling ass backwards into the fast-paced world of bike couriering all because he lost his so-called "magic touch," Jack is left with nothing. Losing not only all his money, but his parents' savings as well, Jack decides to shave his mustache, let his hair grow long and become the Kevin Bacon we all know and love.

What I mean is, the stockbroker version of Kevin Bacon is someone I don't want to be around. On the other hand, bike courier Kevin Bacon is the bees knees in terms of being likable and shit.

I'd like to circle back to the opening credits before I continue, as to not mention them would be a grave error on my part. While a black and white photo montage of various NYC bike couriers might not sound all that compelling. The way they coloured in certain articles of clothing combined with the music of Thomas Newman managed to turn them into something truly artistic.

Oh, and it should be noted that while an uncredited Thomas Newman does provide the music that appears over the opening credits, the film's score was actually composed by Tony Banks of Genesis.

Okay, now where was I? Ah, yes. Another way they signified Jack Casey's transformation from a putrid slab of yuppie scum to an affable, maroon beret-wearing NYC biker courier was to change the way he moves. The arrogant swagger he displayed as a stockbroker has been replaced by a more playful yet purposeful walk.

You could say Jack Casey always wanted to be a NYC bike courier. It's too bad he had to lose everything to find this out. The only reason I mention this is because of the manner in which he obtains his trademark maroon beret. I won't go into too much detail about how he obtained it (let's just say he found it on the street), but the fact that he held onto it speaks volumes about his character.

"Quicksilver" is the name of the NYC bike courier service Jack Casey now works for. However, since he's too busy delivering a package at the moment, it's up to Hector (Paul Rodriguez) to introduce us to his fellow riders. He does so for the benefit of the audience, but also for Terri (Jami Gertz), the new girl on the block.

Other than Louie Anderson, the only "fellow riders" I recognized were Laurence Fishburne, who plays Voodoo, and David Harris (Cochise from The Warriors), who plays, coincidentally, Apache. And judging by the way Hector interacts with Voodoo, it would seem that the latter is a bit of a dick.

While I would love to explain to you why Voodoo is such a dick, I can't right now, as Whitney Kershaw is stretching in a black leotard in Kevin Bacon's loft.

Best known for playing Sillabub in the original 1982 Broadway version of "Cats," Whitney plays Rand, Jack Casey's "friend." Oops, I shouldn't have said that. You see, Jack Casey gets in serious trouble when he calls Rand a friend. To make matters worse, he calls her that in front of Jami Gertz. I know, what a dope.

Nevertheless, the film's best non-bike riding scene is the one where Whitney Kershaw tries to dance (her black nylons pressing tightly against her you know what... *whispers softly* her pussy), but is constantly put off by Kevin Bacon's childish, bike-based antics.

The other cool thing about this scene–you know, besides Whitney Kershaw's outfit–is the fact that it's set to "Casual Thing" by Fiona; who Miami Vice fans will remember Fiona from "Little Miss Dangerous," a.k.a. one of the best episodes of the entire series; "This is what you want, this is what you get."

Since nothing will probably top the greatness of the scene with Kevin Bacon and Whitney Kershaw being sexy and adorable in their loft, I might as well wrap up this review. I don't know, I'm just not feeling the subplot that involves Hector trying to get a loan to buy a hot dog cart. And the scene where some of the couriers show off their skills when it comes to performing bike tricks didn't do anything for me.

In order to give the film some added tension, a nefarious character named Gypsy (Rudy Ramos) is introduced (a lurking enthusiast who drives a lumbering automobile). Using the bike couriers to deliver items of an illegal nature, once Gypsy gets his hooks into you, you're pretty much dead meat if you don't do as you're told ("I call, you come," is his motto). Unfortunately, Voodoo finds this out the hard way moments after a thrilling head-to-head bike race between him and Jack Casey through the streets of New York.

Without Voodoo around to deliver his goods, anyone care to guess who Gypsy envisions as his replacement? No, not Jack Casey, he offers the job to Terri, who naively accepts. Well, since Jack Casey has developed feelings for Terri, and he doesn't want the same thing to happen to her that happened to Voodoo... let's just say, they confront one another. Bike vs. Car, may the best mode of transportation win. My money is Bacon. Mmmm, a bike fueled by bacon. *exaggerated drooling noises*

Special thanks to Digital Orc for recommending this movie.