Grotesque (Joe Tornatore, 1988)

When a pajama clad Linda Blair bolts from her parents' house in Grotesque, I thought to myself: Yeah, baby. This is when the movie starts to get good. By running through the snow-covered woods, Linda Blair (Roller Boogie and Chained Heat) is making a valiant effort not to get killed by a gang of unruly "punkers." Little do these "punkers" know, but Linda Blair is not someone to be trifled with. Think about it. It's just a matter time before Linda Blair stumbles upon a crossbow and replaces her jammies with one of the "punkers'" leathery outfits. After drinking a well-deserved cup of cocoa, the now leather clad Linda Blair is ready to fight back. Oh, man. These "punkers" have no idea what they're up against. This is going to be sweet. I don't know 'bout you, but I'd be quaking in my designer combat boots if I was them. If you've seen Savage Streets, you know exactly what I'm talking about. If you haven't seen it. Let's just say, Linda Blair knows a thing or two about comeuppance. Hm, I don't get it. (What?) Why is Linda Blair still running through the snowy woods in her pajamas? I mean, she should be totally killing "punkers" with her newly-acquired crossbow by now. Weird.

I'm not worried. I'm sure Linda Blair will eventually stumble upon that crossbow and procure herself some punk-friendly threads.

Okay, I have some good news and some bad news. I guess I'll mention the bad news first. Remember that crossbow Linda Blair was supposed stumble upon? Yeah, well, she doesn't stumble upon any crossbows in this movie. The same goes for the punk clothes. So, you can forget about seeing Linda Blair slaying punks in tight leather pants.

I'm sorry, the thought of Linda Blair is tight leather pants caused me to lose my train of thought. What was I saying? Oh, yeah. The good news. The good news is that Grotesque turned out to be a pretty awesome horror punksploitation thrill ride.

I know, how can a movie be considered awesome if it doesn't feature Linda Blair doing the things I want her to be doing while wearing the clothes I want her to be wearing? Well, that's simple, really. The film, directed by Joe Tornatore, takes a bizarre turn near the halfway point that will leave even the most jaded of cinephiles slack-jawed and bewildered.

Setting itself up as your standard home invasion flick, Grotesque starts off like Punk Vacation meets House On the Edge of the Park. But then it slowly morphs into a strange amalgam of Deliverance and The Burning. Sure, I was somewhat disappointed that the characters played by Linda Blair and Donna Wilkes (Angel) didn't fight back the way I wanted them to. But still, I have to say, I was pleasantly surprised by the way it all played out. Plus, don't forget, the film has plenty of punks.

Granted, these punks seem to have gotten the bulk of their inspiration from Mad Max. In other words, they're not the type of punks you see panhandling outside The Yarn Barn. Nevertheless, they're punks, and they look like they're itching to harass some squares.

How can I tell? The way Shelly (Michelle Bensoussan) yells at Lisa (Linda Blair) and Kathy (Donna Wilkes) as they drove along a scenic road in the country practically screamed square harassment. Sticking her head out of the passenger side window of their VW Bus, Shelly threatens Lisa and Kathy with physical violence. Now, if you saw Shelly, who looks like she just parachuted in from the set of Future-Kill, and heard what she said, you might think twice about continuing down this particular road. But not Lisa and Kathy. No, they continue on their merry way.

(What's Linda Blair wearing? I mean, she can't be wearing pajamas, can she?) No, Linda Blair isn't wearing pajamas. She's wearing this long pink coat with a matching shirt. The cool thing about the shirt is that she's wearing a collar necklace and pearls. I thought these items gave her overall look the right amount of pizzazz.

As for Donna Wilkes... Her outfit, if you can call it that, isn't really worth examining.

Anyway, getting back to the Linda Blair. The scenes that lead up to Lisa and Kathy's confrontation with the "punkers," are the best ones for admiring Linda Blair's duds. Sure, the scenes, which feature Lisa and Kathy eating at a restaurant, getting coffee at the Burger King drive-thru and snagging a complementary bag of chips at Jim Fulton's convenience store, are pretty much filler, but you're not going to find a better showcase for her outfit.

On top of that, the scenes also allow us to witness Linda Blair's unique sense of humour. As Lisa and Kathy are approaching Jim Fulton's convenience store, a little girl, who obviously knows Lisa, introduces her to her new dolly. When Lisa asks what's the doll's name, the little girl replies: "She's an orphan... she doesn't have a name." To which Lisa responds: "That's nice." The way Linda Blair delivers this line and the face she makes while saying said line is classic Linda Blair. Funny, gorgeous, and not the type of woman to put up with little girl-fostered bullshit, Linda Blair is a national treasure.

Oh, and when I say, "national treasure," I'm not simply talking about the United States of America or Republika Hrvatska. I'm talking about the entire world. If that's the case, I should have called her a "global treasure." Whatever.

On their way to Lisa's parents' house in the woods, Lisa and Kathy run into the punks again. Having a bit of car trouble, the lead punk, Scratch (Brad Wilson), tries get them to stop and help, but ultimately fails to achieve this goal. Nonetheless, the car trouble scene gives us our first good look at all the punks.

Fans of cult and horror movies will notice right away that Robert Z'Dar (Samurai Cop) is playing one of the punks. Unfortunately, he doesn't really do that much in this film. Which is weird because he's Robert Z'Dar! If I made a movie with Robert Z'Dar, it would be all Z'Dar, all the Z'Time (this gag never gets old... or I should say, this gag never gets z'old).

As Scratch is ranting and raving, and Gibbs (Nels Van Patten) is laughing at his own jokes (he's like a coked up hyena), you will no doubt notice a vision of ghastliness in the form of Belle, a punk/goth chick in a long black coat. Hands down my favourite punker in the movie, Belle, like Robert Z'Dar, isn't given all that much to do. Which is a shame because the monkey noise she makes during the height of the home invasion scene is definitely one of the film's high points.

Oh, and I almost forgot, the actress who plays Belle is credited as "Bunki Z." I'll let that sink in for a bit.

All right, I'm back. When she's doing bit parts on Dynasty, she goes by the name "Bunky Jones." But when she's playing goth-punks in movies like Grotesque, she's Bunki Z! Yeah, baby!

It would seem that Lisa and Kathy and the punks have a date with destiny, as guess which house the punks decide to rob? That's right, Lisa's parents. Believing that Lisa's father, a horror film director named Orville Kruger (Guy Stockwell), has a stash of money and drugs hidden somewhere in his house, the punks show up unannounced during the night and demand that he hand over the goods.

 

When these "goods" are not handed over, things get a little hairy. It's at this point that the film takes a twisty left turn, when Patrick (Robert Apisa), Lisa's deformed brother, makes his presence felt. The action quickly moves outside, where Lisa and the punks must survive the elements. And, of course, the latter have to contend with Patrick, who wants to tear the punks apart.

There's a lot to like about the outdoor scenes. But I think most of you will agree that the fact the snowfall was genuine was the film's greatest asset in terms of creating actual suspense. Seriously, when I saw that it was really snowing, I started to feel concerned about the actors. This is especially true when it came to Linda Blair, who, like I mentioned earlier, is wearing nothing but a pair of pajamas. Now that's what I call commitment to one's craft.

If this twist wasn't enough, Grotesque gives another one when Tab Hunter (Polyester) literally runs onscreen. At first I thought Tab was running because someone had just told him that his paycheck had bounced. But that wasn't the case at all. Playing Lisa's "Uncle Rod," when Tab Hunter shows up the film goes in a completely different direction all-together. It's true, if you took away all the filler scenes and jettisoned the pointless fake out opening and the ultra-lame fake out ending, the film would barely run twenty minutes long. That being said, it's a pretty entertaining twenty minutes. Well, not really. But, hey, it's got punks, real snow and Linda Blair, what more do you want?

Witchery (Fabrizio Laurenti, 1988)

The floors are creaky, the doors are literally falling off their hinges, and, oh yeah, there's this local legend about a pregnant witch who committed suicide by jumping out of one its many windows a couple hundred years ago. In other words, I don't envy the real estate agent who has the daunting task of trying to sell the giant house at the centre of Witchery (a.k.a. Evil Encounters), a film that begs the question...Actually, I can't quite remember what the question was that this particular film was begging at the moment. But I promise that you'll be the first to tell when I do.  Anyway, that doesn't sound too bad. I mean, with a little baby powder (trust me, it's perfect for creaky floors) and a quick trip to the hinge store (be sure to check out Martina Hingis' Hinge Bin on Yonge St. just south of St. Clair - They do hinges right!), you should have no problem selling that creepy house located on a small, isolated island off the coast of, oh, let's say, Delaware (hey, I saw a lighthouse at one point, so, I could be right). Okay, but what about the pregnant witch who committed suicide? Big deal. Pregnant witches sometimes commit suicide, what are you going to do? Yeah, but I heard the reason she killed herself was because the locals wanted to burn her at the stake. Aren't you gonna tell the prospective buyers about the witch legend? Hell, no. Besides, I'm 100% sure that the female realtor who accompanied the family who want to purchase the property is wearing a silky white slip underneath her conservative realty clothes. In fact, I'm having trouble concentrating on anything else because of that damned slip.
 

 

Holy crap! I just remembered what question this film begs. And that is, why did they even bring her along? Bring who along? The lithesome Linda Sullivan (Catherine Hickland), that's who. Who the fuck is that? Why, she's only the leggiest real estate agent this side of the Potomac River; and believe me, I've sampled the gams attached to a plethora of shapely real estate agents. From Indian Head, Maryland to Woodmont, West Virginia, I've sampled them all. Oh, and  to answer your question, the house hunters in Witchery brought her along in order to make sure the local real estate agent doesn't screw them over, and to give them an estimate on how much it will cost to renovate the dump.
 

 

Excuse me, but I find your obsession with Delaware and Catherine Hickland to be a tad disorienting. Really? Why is that? Well, the movie stars Linda Blair and David Hasselhoff, yet here you are, talking about flipping houses and leggy real estate agents. I guess you're not familiar with the way I operate. You see, Catherine Hickland (quick quirky fun-fact: Catherine Hickland was married to David Hasselhoff at the time this film was made) makes several attempts to be sexy in this film. On the other hand, Linda Blair does not. It's true, her character is pregnant. But that is no excuse. 
 

 

Changing gears for a second, remember that witch I mentioned earlier? Well, the film, directed by Fabrizio Laurenti, starts with a scene that finds a pregnant woman in the 1600s being chased a bunch of folks who look like they work at Black Creek Pioneer Village (all Toronto children under twelve are forced to go there at least once). Wielding pitchforks and boasting demenour that can best be described as belligerent, the mob corner the woman in a stately manor. Trapped, the woman sees no other recourse but to jump out of a second floor window. Just as she's about to hit the ground, Jane (Linda Blair) suddenly wakes up as if she just had a nightmare in a movie. Pregnant herself, Jane wonders what the dream could mean. I'm curious as well, but I'm more curious about her headboard bookcase; it's fabulous!
 

 

Meanwhile, on the very island Jane's nightmare took place, Leslie (Leslie Cumming), a writer interested in witches, and Gary (David Hasselhoff), a photographer with a deep-seated interest in poontang, are exploring the house. In fact, they're currently standing by the window the woman from Janes's nightmare jumped out of back in the 1600s. Hold on. I've got to get this off my chest before I continue. I don't who decided to cast Leslie Cumming as David Hasselhoff's virginal brunette girlfriend, but she's got to be one of the worst actresses I ever seen. Seriously, she has no business being in movies. It got so bad, that I started to feel sorry for Herr Hasselhoff as the film progressed. It must have been pure hell to exchange dialogue with an actress with no charisma whatsoever. 

 

 

While walking down the street, Jane spots the mysterious Lady in Black (Hildegard Knef) standing on the sidewalk. Staring at her in a menacing manner, the Lady in Black starts messing around with some kind of crystal pendant thingie. Seconds later, Jane is nearly killed by a falling girder. What's going on here? Wait a minute. Is that evil I smell?
 

 

Content that her creepy confrontation with Jane went as well as creepy confrontations go, the Lady in Black decides to strike while iron is hot and heads over to the park to act creepy in front of Tommy (Michael Manchester), Jane's nephew. Call me a poor judge of creepiness, but I can't decide who was more creepy, the Lady in Black or Tommy. Yeah, you heard me. I don't know, there was something not quite right about this Tommy kid. Listen to the way he asks the Lady in Black for his ball back, it's downright terrifying. Have you ever thought that maybe he's just a bad actor? You have a point there, as some of his line readings are atrocious. Some of his line readings? Okay, fine, all of them. Nonetheless, he's creepy me the fuck out.
 

 

What I can't understand is why David Hasselhoff's character would date a virgin. Not to be crass, but the Hoff needs pussy on a semi-regular basis. All right, forget about the virgin thing. What I'd like to know is, why is he seeing a woman who does nothing but mope around while mumbling incoherent nonsense about witches? She's totally not his type. Either way, Gary tries multiple times over the of the course of the film to set in motion a scenario where his penis penetrates her vagina, but he's repeatedly denied the privilege.
 

  

A real estate agent named Linda Sullivan (Catherine Hickland) is hired by Jane's parents Rose (Annie Ross) and Freddie Brooks (Robert Champagne) to given them estimate on a house they plan on purchasing. Pretty mundane stuff, right? Wrong! The sexy Catherine Hickland receives the call while standing over her boyfriend in nothing but a towel. Oh yeah, getting good news over the phone while wearing a towel is the epitome of hot. The way her boyfriend, whose name is not even close to being important, stares at her legs as she stood over him was tantalizingly awesome. I'd go as so far to say that it's the film's best leg moment...so far.
 

 

Wait, "so far"? You mean there will be more leg moments to come? What do you think? Actually, I think another one is about to transpire right this second. Let's watch, shall we?
 

 

Sitting in the office of the local realtor, Rose and Freddie Brooks discuss the property they might want to purchase with Tony Giordano (Rick Farnsworth), the son of the guy who runs the realty agency; in the other words, this is a big sale for him (make daddy proud, Tony). At any rate, as they're talking about the house in question, Freddie seems preoccupied.
 

 

Was it the cheeky cat calendar hanging on the wall? No, I don't think so. How about that cup full of pens? I doubt it. If it wasn't any of those things, what could it be? I'll tell you what it was, it was the leg scratch heard around the world. All right, maybe it wasn't heard around the world. However, I bet it was heard all along the Eastern seaboard. Which, if you think about it, is still one pretty impressive scratch.
 

 

Who's doing the scratching? Oh yeah, sorry about that. Sitting at her desk in a yellow top paired with a black skirt, Jenny Lee (Victoria Biggers), the office's brunette secretary, suddenly feels an itch on her right thigh. In order to alleviate this irritating sensation, Jenny Lee takes her right hand and fashions the fingers of said right hand in a manner that causes it to look like a claw. Taking this newly created claw, Jenny Lee gingerly brushes it over the affected area several times.
 

 

As she's doing this, Jenny Lee can't help but notice that Freddie, who should be listening to what Tony is blathering about, is checking out the pleasing shape of her secretarial thighs. Slightly annoyed by this untoward leering, Jenny Lee ceases to scratch her thigh.
 

 

I know what you're thinking, where was Linda Sullivan during all this thigh scratching excitement? She was stuck in traffic. It's too bad, she missed quite the show. Which reminds me, why didn't anyone offer Victoria Biggers the opportunity to play Leslie Cumming's part? And why not? Anyone, and I mean, anyone, would have been better than her. Jeez, we get it. She sucks. Let it go, man. Yeah, but Victoria Biggers has shapely thighs and manged to scratch one of them in a semi-convincing manner. No, you're right. She probably would have been the better choice. But there's nothing you can do to change the fact that Leslie Cumming landed the role of David Hasselhoff's virginal girlfriend in Witchery, and that Victoria Biggers was stuck with a non-speaking, scratching only role.
 

 

Did you just say that Victoria Biggers doesn't have any lines?!? If that's the case, how do you know she would have been better than Leslie Cumming? Trust me, she would have been better. You might not be able to seem them, but all the people out there who have seen Witchery are nodding their heads in agreement.
 

 

Eventually all the characters end up getting stranded on the island. Sure, they're trapped inside a giant mansion (which I suppose isn't the worst place to be stranded). But you have got to remember, the Lady in Black is lurking around somewhere upstairs. One by one, each character gets the opportunity to scream awkwardly while immersed in red lighting. Well, actually, I don't recall seeing David Hasselhoff doing the awkward scream thing, but most of them do.
 

 

As usual, Annie Ross (Basket Case 2) excels at being a cun...Um, no, let's call her "overbearing." Yeah, overbearing. I like that. The cool part of her awkward scream was the all the close up shots of her red pumps struggling to maintain their grip on the floor (a sinister force pulls her into a dumbwaiter). Oh, and the infamous "mouth stitch" scene was laughably gruesome; meaning, it was gory yet poorly staged.
 

 

The film's most compelling, non-thigh scratch moment comes when Linda Sullivan removes her blazer, and then Tony (who I nicknamed "Realty Boy," because he seemed to be so dedicated to realty) removes his blazer in order to facilitate sexual intercourse in front of a large, wall-mounted marlin. You knew these two were going to hook up, so it came as no surprise when they wandered off the way they did. How or why they got together is not important. What is important, however, is the fact that Catherine Hickland wore a white slip underneath her realty clothes. I also liked the loud zipping sound her skirt zipper made as she unzipped it. It should go without saying, but this sequence has many great leg moments. Unfortunately, they're the last the film has to offer as the body count begins to rise.
 

 

After the sex scene in front of the marlin starring Catherine Hickland's white slip is over, the film is a tedious slog. There's an effective death scene, complete with twitching and arterial spray, a shock-haired Linda Blair does some her best demented pajama work since the early 1970s. But for the most part, you'll be wishing it would just end already....much like this review. Stupid thigh scratch.

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Chained Heat (Paul Nicholas, 1983)

My fragile grip on reality suffers another blow, as I find myself yet again under the drably attired spell of a women in prison film. It's gotten so bad, that every time the WiP movie I'm watching decides to leave the walls of the prison, the sebaceous cysts that litter my back feel like they're going to simultaneously explode. Of course, you could avert this pus-laden calamity by steering clear of the genre altogether. You have got to be kidding, right? And miss the opportunity to watch Linda Blair (Hell Night) and Sybil Danning (They're Playing with Fire) play inmates at a prison where John Vernon (Savage Streets) plays a hot-tubbing warden who likes to dabble in amateur pornography and Henry Silva (Megaforce) is a drug dealing pimp with a thing for fortysomething women who like to wear grey slacks? I don't think so. If you catch me watching Chained Heat II, then you'll definitely know I have a problem. Hell, I'll even check myself into rehab. But until then, let me enjoy my sleazy movies, I'm not hurting anyone. Spoken like a true addict. These films are not only rotting your brain, they're ruining your outlook on life. Remember that attractive woman you were telling me about? Yeah, the one you saw in the bookstore the other day. Well, do you recall what you told me the first thing that sprang to mind when you saw her coquettishly standing in the cookbook section? If memory serves me correctly, and it usually always does, the image of her fighting a group of unruly lesbians in the shower of a poorly run correctional facility was the first thing that popped into my head. You see, that right there, that's not even close to being normal. In fact, it's totally fucked up if you ask me. You used to be so well-adjusted, but now you're just creepy and sad. Really, you haven't imagined what total strangers might look like if they were to take part in a prison shower fight? Of course, I have. But that's not the point. My thoughts, unlike yours, aren't limited to shower fights. I think about wind surfing, crochet, antique furniture, cycling, and misappropriated anilingus. What you need to do is expand your horizons. Run a marathon, take kayaking lessons, read The Help, buy an electric toothbrush. In other words, branch out and embrace the non-prison shower fighting beauty of this world.

Is it okay if I write an obsessively wordy tangent about this particular movie? Like I said, it's got Linda Blair in it. Since you have already started, you might as well finish it. And besides, I'm dying to know what you thought about Marcia Karr's legs; word on the street is that they're killer in this flick.

You know how the sound of church bells ringing beckon the faithful, and how the laughter coming from a child's chocolate-stained laugh hole makes the elderly smile? (Ugh, just typing that gave me a yeast infection.) Well, the sound of keys jingling, prison bars slamming, women screaming, and nightsticks being purposely knocked against metal are what cheer me up when I'm down in the dumps. On a related note, do you know how some people like to sleep with those noise machine thingies by their bed? Yeah, well, if I was in charge of designing those "thingies," I would add "women's prison" to the list of available sounds. In fact, I'd slap that puppy right between "rainforest" and "white noise."

Informing us right from the get-go that the unnamed women's prison located on the banks of the L.A. River is no afternoon picnic with bass player from Fashion, Chained Heat opens on a blonde prisoner who seems to be at the end of her tether. How do I know this? Well, for one thing, she's sitting in the foetal position, and you don't have to be a body language expert to figure out that people who sit like that aren't exactly the happiest of campers. Tired of being raped by a guard named Stone (Robert Miano), Susie (Jonna Lee) decides to put a stop to his raping ways by pulling a gun on him. Unfortunately, she doesn't get very far, as she is blown away by a series of shotgun blasts.

The sole purpose of this little vignette is to show what kind of hell Carol Henderson (Linda Blair) is getting herself into. A so-called "prison virgin," Carol is on her way to serve an eighteen month sentence for vehicular manslaughter. Luckily, Carol happens to be sitting next to Val (Sharon Hughes) during the van ride over. A veteran of the California penal system, Val decides to look out for Carol, whose innocent demenour is no match for the hardened criminals who populate this supposedly overcrowded prison (overcrowded my ass, there are never more than twelve inmates onscreen at any given moment). As Carol, Val, and two others, Blue Eyes (Jody Medford) and a "TV freak" named Bubbles (Louisa Moritz) wait to be processed, we're introduced to some of these hardened criminals. Chiefly, a chain-smoking blonde named Ericka (Sybil Danning), who, judging by way she gave non-verbal instructions to her equally blonde underlings, the statuesque Lulu (Greta Blackburn) and the rough and tumble Bobbi (Dee Biederbeck), is in charge of the prison's drug trade. Whoa, you mean to tell me Sybil Danning is a prisoner in this dump? Even if Val is protecting her, Linda Blair doesn't stand a chance against Sybil Danning. I mean, look at Linda, she's so soft and innocent, and Sybil is, well, she's none of those of things.

If there's anyone who can keep Sybil Danning's luscious thighs in check it's Tamara Dobson's the Duchess, the leader of the prison's black population. This power struggle is on display early on as Ericka, who, as usual is flanked by Lulu and Bobbi, asks the Duchess for permission to kill Debbie (Monique Gabrielle), a shapely snitch who's in the warden's pocket, or, in this film's case, naked in his hot tub. While there was some mild racial tension between Albina and Emanuelle in Women's Prison Massacre, Chained Heat is the first WiP I've seen to examine race relations to the extent where it becomes part of the film's plot. At any rate, the Duchess sanctions the murder, just as long as her people don't experience any of "the heat" her death may produce.

It's hard to believe that while all this going on, that Carol, Val, Blue Eyes, and Bubbles haven't been processed yet. Still waiting in the holding cell, Linda Blair gets to try out her transvestite empathy face. What's a "transvestite empathy face," you ask? Well, it's the face mildly chubby actresses make when they see transvestites being picked on by curly-haired lesbians. Powerless to do anything to help the transvestite in peril, all the mildly chubby actress can do is weakly protest by saying something along the lines of "leave him alone." Even though there isn't much of a chance that her objection will cause the curly-haired lesbian to stop picking on the transvestite, Val tells Carol not to get involved. It's an excellent piece of advice, as even a harmless discussion about daytime soaps can lead to chaos.

An inordinately leggy inmate named Twinks (Marcia Karr) finds this out the hard way when the Gina Gershon look-alike agrees with Bubbles' opinion regarding The Young and the Restless. When she's not fighting transvestites over the ownership of cigarette butts, the curly-haired lesbian is getting in Twinks' grill over soap operas. Don't worry about Twinks, though. You know how Val looks out for Carol? Well, Twinks has a beanpole named Paula (Edy Williams) to protect her.

As you can tell, I could watch what transpires in this holding cell all day long. But Carol, Val and the others eventually do get processed and make their way to the dorm. Of course, not before witnessing the stabbing of a black inmate (the Duchess is gonna be none too pleased). Mere moments after they have settled in, Carol and Val are confronted by Ericka and Bobbi. This particular sequence gives us our first real look at the outfits the ladies will be wearing throughout the film. While not the sexiest duds I've seen in a movie like this, the grey, oversize, one-hundred percent cotton number with buttons in the front is probably the most comfortable. This scene is also famous in that it features a kiss between Linda and Sybil. Unfortunately, it's one of those forced, sitcom-quality same-sex kisses. In other words, it's super lame. If you want titillation, check out Sharon Hughes' big hair, or better yet, feast your eyes on Dee Biederbeck's knees. If you're like me, and you love misshapen knees, check out what Dee's got going on at the joint located between the thigh and the lower leg, it's knobby heaven down there.

It should go without saying, but everyone who works at this dump is corrupt. The prison's warden, Mr. Bachmann (John Vernon), sells drugs and shoots homemade erotica in his lavishly decorated office, the co-warden, Captain Taylor (Stella Stevens) sells drugs and has no qualms about murdering anyone who stands in her way, Dr. Lester (Henry Silva), at least I think he was a doctor, sells drugs and pimps out the inmates on weekends, and the guards are all rapists and sadists.

The fight to secure Carol's loyalty begins as Ericka, the warden, Lester and the Duchess all make their plays to bring her into their respective folds. The warden wants to Carol to replace the deceased Debbie as his go-to snitch, Ericka has her sights on her to be a member of her gang and as her possible lover, Lester is thinking about utilizing her generous curves at the swanky coke parties he throws out in Beverly Hills, and the Duchess wants her to reveal the name of the inmate who killed one of her black sisters.

All this pressure to satisfy so many opposing viewpoints leads Carol to become somewhat dejected. And who better to convey this glum temperament than Linda Blair, the queen of rosy-cheeked grumpiness. One of the few inmates to show any signs that they're unhappy over the fact that they're in prison, Linda employs her mopey face like it were a broadsword. Undermining the goodwill of everyone around her, Miss Blair saps her co-stars and audience of their will to live. If you thought she looked morose while taking a shower, folding laundry, and playing checkers, you should see her when she wears a blue, cocaine-inspired disco pantsuit; it's like someone had just killed her goldfish. Either way, Linda Evans circa Dynasty would definitely approve of Linda's chic getup.

Shepherded out of the prison via a sewer pipe and placed into the back of a limousine, Lester takes Carol and Val to an upscale party. Judging by the easy-going nature of Val's staircase striptease, it's obvious she's done this before. Reduced to a pair of black fishnet stockings, black pumps, one black opera glove and a white bustier, Val hurls her dainty frame back and forth in a veiled attempt to appease the pent-up desires lurking inside the hearts and minds of the party's drug-addled clientele. On the other hand, Carol knows nothing about the subtle art of seduction, and finds herself woefully unprepared for the untoward solicitation that is about to come her way. ("Get on all fours. I wanna see your ample hindquarters ripple as a result of my purposeful thrusts." is an example of what someone might to say to her.)

Severely lacking when it comes to furnishing the over-the-top theatrics of its peers, Chained Heat desperately needs someone to step up and employ some affected mannerisms in a prison setting in order to remain relevant in today's camp-based world. Challenging Sybil Danning's character to a fight, Tamara Dobson (Cleopatra Jones) contributes to the cause when she calls her a "chalk-faced whore." Which is, hands down, the film's greatest line. Sadly, though, Tamara is too self-righteous to be taken seriously as a camp icon. Wearing grey slacks with an inexcusable amount of poise and dignity, Stella Stevens comes close to providing the campy goods. But other than her proclivity for dark eye makeup and the tirade she throws while in the midst of railroading an inmate for a crime she didn't commit, Stella's Captain Taylor is ultimately a bit of a disappointment, camp-wise.

While not even close to being a factor when it came to rescuing the film from its camp-free shortfall, Marcia Karr (Killer Workout) gives the film's best stealth performance. You may not always notice her, but Marcia is never far from the action as Twinks, a shy brunette who likes to draw and show off her tantalizing stems. Present during the holding cell sequence, there when Ericka and Bobbi do some of their best bullying (she's ushered to the prison's primary "rape room"), and you can see her sitting on the floor (her beautiful legs stretched out for the perverted world to see) while Carol rallies the troops, Marcia quietly rules over the proceedings with a leggy grace (I was gonna say "leggy sang-froid," but I don't want to come across as a pompous prat). Anyway, I'm glad someone did–you know, be leggy and junk, because I need more than an expertly coiffed she-mullet and sparsely attended prison riot to satisfy my frightfully specific WiP kink.

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