Streetwalkin' (Joan Freeman, 1985)

If you're not a prostitute, a pimp, a John or a run of the mill lowlife, I'm afraid there's no place for you in Streetwalkin', the second best movie about a demented white psycho-pimp on the warpath. The best, of course, is Vice Squad. However, this film, co-written and directed by Joan Freeman, does away with the cop subplots and the ham-fisted moralizing. You heard right, there are no police and no-one tries to teach us a valuable lesson, it's just prostitutes, pimps, Johns, run of the mill lowlifes and nothing else. What's that? Is there a place for leggy junkie whores in this movie? Even though they fit under the prostitute umbrella, I can assure you, leggy junkie whores are more than welcome. In fact, if I happened to be cruising the streets for affordable poontang in this particular section of New York City during the mid-1980s, I know exactly which leggy junkie whore I would choose. I think you all know which leggy junkie whore I'm talking about. Let's all say her name together, ready... 1, 2, 3, Phoebe!!! That's weird, most of you yelled "Cookie," the name of the naive floozy played by Melissa Leo. While I adored Cookie's predilection for white stockings and pink mini-skirts (an awesome combination), I'm sucker for Annie Golden, especially when she plays–that's right, you got it–leggy junkie whores.

Now that I've established which prostitute I want to go on a "date" with, let's move on to another topic. Just kidding, there are no other topics. Actually, that's not entirely true. The film does shed a fair amount of light on the importance of choosing a pimp. I know, that's not really another topic, but it's got nothing to do with Annie Golden's nylon-ensnared thighs shimmering in the neon slime, and that's something.

As I was saying, selecting a pimp that fits your hooking style is the most important decision a whore has to make during her lifespan. Whether you're a rookie like Cookie or a been there, done that old timer like Queen Bee (Julie Newmar), you need think carefully before settling on a pimp.

Since most pimps get off on the power, you need to stir clear of pimps who are megalomaniacal.

If you have a drug habit, you need to go with a pimp who will tolerate your constant nagging for a fix. And judging by the pimp Annie Golden's Phoebe has representing her lavender-scented cooze, she has chosen wisely. Call me misguided and a tad on the deranged side, but I can tell that Finesse (Antonio Fargas) pimps with a chivalrous grace. And I'm not just saying that because his name is "Finesse." No, I'm saying this because his wardrobe is on point... and he keeps tiny packets of smack in the brim of his hat.

As for Cookie, she chooses unwisely. Now, granted, she didn't really have a choice when it came time to pick a pimp (she's turned out at the bus station). That being said, she should have known that letting Duke (Dale Midkiff) be the one to turn her out was going to end badly. Of course, I'm not saying that all white pimps are sick in the head. But let's get real, white men don't pimp because of socio-economic reasons. They pimp because they're usually sadistic twists who feed off the misery of others.

Not to brag, but I knew Duke was trouble the moment I laid eyes on him. And we're talking trouble with a capital 'T.' Unfortunately, Cookie doesn't see what I see. Instead, she sees Duke as her savior when he approaches her and Tim (Randall Batinkoff), her younger brother, at the bus station.

Given that the film is a Roger Corman production, the cast and crew have very little to work with as far as resources go. However, the makers of this film have one thing that money can't buy. That's right, they have all of New York City–in the mid-1980s–at their disposal. Shot entirely at night over the course of twenty days, the film captures the city during the height of its reign as the cultural center of the universe.
  

It's true, the majority of the run of the mill lowlifes who appear in this film have no idea they're living through a cultural renaissance. But when they (the run of the mill lowlifes) look back at this particular period of time years later, they'll be able to fully grasp the importance of the era with a little more clarity. That is, if they somehow managed to not get murdered, or overdose, or die of AIDS, or accidentally fall down a manhole.

Since the film doesn't have the time or the budget to show Duke and Cookie getting know each other, they simply show that Cookie keeps a photo-booth photo of her and Duke posing as a couple in love spanning time on the wall of her apartment. Oh, and if you're wondering how Cookie managed to get her own place so quickly, you can thank Duke for that, and, to lesser to extent, you can thank Cookie's pussy. What am I saying, "to a lesser extent." If anything, Cookie's pussy is doing the bulk of the heavy lifting.
  

Do you see that box of Twinkies Cookie is putting away? Yeah, Cookie's pussy paid for those Twinkies. And the great thing about Cookie's pussy is that she doesn't even have to insert anything into it to get paid. What I mean is, she can make men ejaculate sperm simply by flashing her pale, white stocking-adjacent thighs at them.
  

As Cookie is making men cum their corduroys without even touching them, Duke is beating up Heather (Deborah Offner), a fellow prostitute and Cookie's roommate. As you might expect, the reason Duke is doing this is because of money (he thinks Heather is holding out on him).

After Cookie takes an unconscious Heather to the E.R., she probably starts thinking to herself: Maybe this Duke fella isn't the best pimp for me. Enter Jason (Leon), a charming pimp who's tough yet fair. Actually, I have no idea if he's "tough yet fair." I do know this, Cookie wants him to be her pimp. I also know this, Duke isn't going to be pleased when he finds out his biggest earner has defected to the competition.
  

It might be awhile before he finds out, as Duke is too busy trying to steal Star (Khandi Alexander) away from Finesse, a suave pimp whose talent for cooling hos out is the stuff of pimping legend. Taking place at an after hours pimp club, Duke makes a play for Star right front of Finesse. Finesse's other ho, Phoebe (Annie Golden),  is there, too. But she's too stoned to notice.
  

What I liked most about the scenes at the after hours pimp club was the use of "I Want To Be Real" by John Rocca (it's song that's playing when Duke walks in), the part where Duke's sleazy sidekick, Creepy (Greg Germann), tries to pick up a woman at the bar, the abundance of neon, and, of course, Annie Golden acting high as fuck.
  

Even though I mentioned her earlier, I can't believe it's taken me this long to refer to Julie Newmar's outfit. Okay, here it goes, Julie Newmar, who, like I said earlier, plays Queen Bee (a streetwise older whore), wears red stockings and... that's pretty much it. Oh, sure, she's wearing a red teddy type leotard thingy. But let's get real, her red stockings are not to be trifled with. Dominating every scene she's in with a leggy aplomb, Julie Newmar's 50 year-old gams sheathed in red stockings manage to steal every scene they're in. It also helps that Julie Newmar gives a funny performance as an aging hooker who hopes to save up enough money to get in the "horse business."
   

People, like me, who mostly know Melissa Leo as Det. Howard from the '1990s TV show, Homicide: Life on the Street, might find the sight of her making dumb decisions in sexy lingerie a little hard to swallow. But after awhile, I kind of got used to it. The reason it took some getting used is because her role on Homicide is the complete opposite to Cookie. We're talking no make-up, no mini-skirts, no BDSM. And, yes, there's a great BDSM scene in Streetwalkin' where Cookie and Star are paid to rough up a John in a cheap motel.

To surprise of no-one, Duke becomes enraged when he finds out that Cookie has joined up with Jason. Enlisting the help of Creepy, Duke doggedly pursues Cookie for the majority of the film's final third. And if that means getting in fist-fights with every other pimp in the city, so be it, as the Wings Hauser is strong in this one. Wait, did I just make a Star Wars reference? Ugh. Hopefully nobody will read this far. Anyway, did I mention that Streetwalkin' is a great movie? (You sort of did... in your own convoluted way.) Cool.

Band of the Hand (Paul Michael Glaser, 1986)

Forget about separate knobs. Why Lauren Holly?!? Why Lauren Holly?!? Why did you have to cross your legs while sipping a glass of cool, refreshing Perrier on James Remar's sofa? Oh, hey. Don't mind me, I'm just cursing the fact that Lauren Holly chose to sit this way at around the thirty minute mark of Band of the Hand, a glorified episode of Miami Vice mixed with what looks like an all-male version of Survivor. (Don't you mean, Gay Survivor?) Yeah, "Gay Survivor," that's exactly what it was. Seriously, if I was a gay man, or a straight woman for that matter (I keep forgetting they, for some inexplicable reason, dig dudes as well), I would be all over Danny Quinn; man, he's one handsome son of a bee-sting in this movie. The shots of him cruising around Miami in that flashy dark teal blazer confused the living fuck out of my genitals. Anyway, getting back to Lauren Holly. The moment I saw her cross her legs, I said to myself: Thanks, Lauren Holly, because of you, and, your sexy manner of sitting, I'm going to have to review this movie. I know, I don't technically have to do anything of the sort, but Lauren Holly gave me no choice. To put what I'm getting at in the simplest terms possible: Lauren Holly's legs are the reason this review exist. So, if the sight of the title "Band of the Hand" caused you to have an unpleasant flashback to the 1980s, blame Lauren Holly. Luckily, the film adheres pretty close to the Miami Vice formula.

Produced by Michael Mann (Thief, The Keep), and directed by Paul Michael Glaser, the director of the classic Miami Vice feature-length episode, The Prodigal Son" (he also directed "Calderone's Return Part II" and "Smuggler's Blues"), the film is about a gang of misfits who are shaped and molded into an elite crime-fighting commando force by a tough-talking Miccosukee ex-Marine turned vice cop. So sit back and enjoy the ride as this ragtag bunch of hoodlums slowly build up their self-esteem by hunting wild boar in the swamps of South Florida.

Oh, crap. It just dawned me that I've already used the words "misfits" and "ragtag." Damn it, I didn't want to employ them so soon. Dare I use them more than once? What is this, amateur hour? Of course I won't use them again. I'll have come up with another way to describe the group of young people who may or may not be a... well, you know.

Introduced to a veritable gaggle of adolescent nonconformists who are incongruously varied in character, the film shows five youths from various backgrounds being arrested. The first two are nabbed together while brawling, Streets of Fire-style, on the streets of Miami during a rumble between the Home Boys and the 27th Ave. Players. How do I know what gangs these two youths are mixed up with? It's simple, really, I just took a look-see at their rap sheets (they briefly flash on the screen). And it would seem that Ruben Pacecho (Michael Carmine), alias: "Mira Primo," and Moss Roosevelt (Leon), alias: "Warlord," are both 16 years-old.

The next youth we meet is Carlos (Danny Quinn), alias: "The Lover," a drug pusher. He gets busted trying to sell cocaine while his equally teenage girlfriend, Nikki (Lauren Holly), waits outside in a white Porsche. Don't worry, she isn't caught. But I have to say, the NARC who shot at Nikki as she fled the scene should be fired. Who do you think you are, Sonny Crockett? Shooting multiple rounds at a fleeing vehicle in the parking lot of a busy hotel is a definite no-no.

Meanwhile, at a nearby trailer park, Lee MacEwen (John Cameron Mitchell), alias: "Crazy," a new wave explosives expert, kills his father (who was in the middle of beating up his mother). And later that evening, at a youth detention centre, Jon Bridger (Al Shannon), alias: "Rattler," a car thief, is caught trying to escape.

It should be noted that not all the information on the rap sheets is accurate. For instance, Rattler's first name is actually Dorcey (for some reason his rap sheets says his name is Jon), and Carlos' rap sheet says his name is Rene. The only explanation for this I can think of for all this is that the names of the characters were changed or altered slightly after the rap sheets were already printed up and they didn't bother to change them. Or maybe...

Wearing blue tights covered in black splotches (with matching heels of course), a large white t-shirt covered in funky splashes of colour (with a black belt and a white purse) and a pair of heart-shaped earrings, shows up at the prison Carlos is being held. Only problem is, he's not there.

Where's Carlos? Good question. Actually, that's a pretty crap question. Open your eyes, man. He's on an airboat with four other young offenders in the middle of the swamp. The question you should be asking yourself is: Why are they there?

Direct all your at questions pertaining to why five no good punks were taken from prison and dumped in the middle of the swamp at Joe (Stephen Lang), a Miccosukee vice cop who specializes in turning troubled youth into productive members of society. Okay, maybe that's a bit a stretch, but the man tries.

Oh, and if the name "Miccosukee" sounds familiar, that's because the Miccosukee tribe were featured in the season four episode of Miami Vice called "Indian Wars." You'll notice quite a few similarities to episodes of Miami Vice throughout this movie. The obvious ones being: "The Glades" (Crockett and Tubbs team up with a family of swamp people to battle drug dealers after being stranded in the Everglades), "The Maze" (a gang of criminals hold up in an abandoned building), and "Give a Little, Take a Little" (Gina reluctantly fucks Burt Young).

While "The Glades" and "The Maze" are obvious choices, "Give a Little, Take a Little" reminded me of the situation Lauren Holly's character goes through. Desperate to find out what happened to Carlos (she has no idea her boyfriend is out playing in the swamp with four other dudes), she asks to meet with Nestor (James Remar), his drug dealing, black magic practicing boss.

The meeting, which was facilitated by Aldo (Danton Stone, Neil Chase from My So-Called Life), at a local nightclub (excellent use of Prince's "Let's Go Crazy," by the way), takes place at Nestor's condo.

Wearing a dark skirt with a slit in the back, Nikki enters a room to find Nestor sitting on a large sofa in front of a bank of around ten small television sets. She seems nervous, but takes a seat next to the lounging drug dealer in the red robe. When one of Nestor's henchman brings Nikki a Perrier, she crosses legs something fierce. Now, we don't exactly see the actual moment when she crosses them. But believe me, it was fierce. At any rate, ignoring her query as to the whereabouts of Carlos, Nestor flippantly tells her to go upstairs and take her clothes off. Stunned at first, Nikki ignores his request and continues to ask about Carlos. Clearly annoyed, Nestor repeats the request. Only this time, he does so in a more forceful manner.

It would seem that Nestor is making a play for Carlos' girl (who says she's 16 years-old) while he toils in the jungle. And this play involves her going up to Nestor's bedroom to the sounds of "Faded Flowers" by Shriekback.

I'm glad the filmmakers decided to keep us abreast as to what Lauren Holly's character was up to while Carlos and the boys hung out in the swamp, as I'm not sure if I could handle a movie that was solely about a bunch of guys learning how to survive in the wilderness. Oh, and the manner in which Leon and Michael Carmine fought with one another was so loud and shrill. I was somewhat relieved when they finally became friends, as I don't know how much more I could take of their racially charged bickering. And wouldn't you know it, James Cameron Mitchell's Crazy seems to agree with me, as the first words out of his mouth are to tell them to stop fighting.

When the boys pass Joe's test, the action moves to an Art Deco-style building in the Little Havana section of Miami, where they must battle pimps and junkies. And, of course, resist the temptation to return to their old ways.

Awesome music (Mister Mister in the house!), sweet Uzi shoot outs, cool threads (Carlos' dark teal blazer is so chic it hurts), an all-natural Lauren Holly (leggy and flat-chested... it's a beautiful thing), Laurence Fishburne as a pimp named Cream, Paul Calderon wielding a mini-gun, Martin Ferrero (Izzy from Miami Vice) as a hardware store clerk who knows a thing or two about getting rid of armadillos, and a pre-Hedwig James Cameron Mitchell destroying a pill-box like he was in Saving Private Ryan, I won't say Band of the Hand has everything, but it comes pretty damn close.

One more thing, I don't know how old I was, or if I was even born yet, when this movie came out (my math skills are beyond piss poor), but I distinctly remember wanting to see this movie. The fact it took me this long to get around to checking out a movie I had inkling I wanted to see back in the 1986 is mildly hilarious. Okay, it's not even close to being hilarious. If you think about it, it's actually quite sad. But if you don't think about it, the act of me finally getting around to watching Band of the Hand is greater than anything I ever accomplished during my life time. Ding, ding, ding! We have a winner. That has to be the saddest thing anyone has ever said.