Friday the 13th: The Final Chapter (Joseph Zito, 1984)

In order to prevent myself from experiencing Friday the 13th fatigue, I recently decided to start watch 'em two at a time. At first I thought I had made the right call, as I wasn't experiencing any fatigue whatsoever. Sure, there was some mild mental erosion and a shitload of regret, but no fatigue. Well, after recently enduring Part III and the so-called "The Final Chapter" back-to-back, I have to admit, I'm starting to feel a tad sluggish. Repeatedly hitting me over the head with the same tired formula, the Friday the 13th franchise has got to be one the of the most artistically bankrupt in movie history. Other than a few variations here and there, every film is exactly the same. Since I'm writing about it, let's take, for example, Friday the 13th: The Final Chapter (the fourth film in the teens in peril slasher series), which opens with Jason Voorhees (the world's most famous deformed drowning victim) coming back to life.  Given that it's way too early for Jason to be killing the film's leads, he usually targets secondary characters who just happen to be in the area (a.k.a. bit part machete fodder). After these people are murdered, we're usually introduced to a young sexually inactive woman who lives with her mother in a house near a large body of water. And then suddenly, like a clockwork, a car, or a van, filled with horny (sexually active) teenagers shows up and moves in next-door.

The young sexually inactive woman develops a crush on one of the car/van boys at some point during the film, but he's typically killed by Jason just as she's about to put the moves on him. But he's not the first teen to die. No, that honour is usually reserved for the most sexually active (female) member of the group.

I'm sure this has been said a thousand times before, but I think these films are trying to say that sex is bad. Or at least they're trying to imply that if you have sex, you will be brutally murdered. On the other hand, if you don't have sex, you might live to see the end credits.

What am I saying? Trying to imply?!? These films are blatantly anti-sex. In fact, they're downright puritan at times. Ugh, I can't believe I just watched... Wait, how many have I watched so far? 1, 2, 3... Okay. Someone call an ambulance, I've just been subjected to six puritan propaganda films. Luckily for me, I watched them in groups of two, so their corrosive message had little effect on my psyche. But still, you should add "dirty and ashamed" to the long list of things these films have caused me to feel.

While it's obvious that these films have a pro-abstinence agenda, that doesn't mean a skilled degenerate like myself can't find tiny droplets of perversion languishing between all the film's sexless sermonizing.

Even though a major hurt is coming their way, we can still enjoy the puerile antics of the film's vagina and cock-starved characters; who, like I said, just arrived and are ready to party like it's 1984.

After a lengthy recap that features clips from parts 1, 2 and 3 and a dull opening credits sequence, we're whisked to the hospital where Jason's "dead body" was taken. The reason I put the phrase "dead body"in quotes is because Jason ain't dead. In a shocking twist, Jason comes back to life to kill more teenagers.

Of course, he can't kill any teenagers this early in the movie, so, he settles instead on a sexy nurse (Lisa Freeman, Savage Streets) and a horny orderly named Axel (Bruce Mahler, Rabbi Glickman from Seinfeld). The best part of this sequence is not that Axel's head is cut off with a saw, but the fact he's watching Aerobicise just before he loses it (his head).

Technically, I should mention that the film's lead character is introduced in the next scene, but the sight of Corey Feldman (National Lampoon's Last Resort) playing Zaxxon in an alien mask is too distracting. A fedora-less Corey Feldman plays Tommy Jarvis, the younger brother of Trish Jarvis (Kimberly Beck, Roller Boogie), who is anxious because six teenagers are apparently moving in next-door.

When I saw that the six teenagers were four boys and two girls, I let out an annoyed sigh. That being said, two of the male of teens are played by Lawrence Monoson (The Last American Virgin) and Crispin Glover (Rubin and Ed). And since these two are the film's most capable actors, they're given a long dialogue scene in the back of the car where their characters, Ted and Jimmy, discuss matters of the heart.

After Ted calls Jimmy a "dead fuck," and after they fail to pick a hitchhiker (Bonnie Hellman), the six teens arrive at their destination (the hitchhiker, of course, is killed by Jason moments after the teens drive by her without stopping).

Since the other characters were virtually ignored during the car ride, we learn a little about the group's two female members. It would seem that Samantha (Judie Aronson, Weird Science) is a bit of a skank, and that Sara (Barbara Howard) is not... a bit of a skank. Hmmm, I wonder which of these young ladies is going to be murdered by Jason first.

In order to even up the female to male ratio, twins Tina (Camilla More) and Terri (Carey More) are introduced (they just happened to riding their bikes along the same path the teens were).

Of course, Crispin Glover sees this sudden influx of semi-attractive twins as an opportunity to prove to The Last American Virgin that he isn't a dead fuck. And what better way to disprove this than by dancing spastically to "Love is a Lie" by Lion for Terri's benefit?

I don't know what I liked better, the sight of Crispin Glover dancing to heavy metal party rock or Kimberly Beck's predilection for prancing around in shirt dresses. It's a tough call. But I will say this, Crispin Glover's dance is the only thing in this movie that didn't smack of trite tedium. Similar to Tiffany Helm's scene in Friday the 13th: A New Beginning, Crispin injects the film with a much needed dose of creativity.

In fact, the only thing that director Joseph Zito (the man responsible for the bland and uninspired The Prowler, a film totally not worthy of the HOSI touch) gets right in this film is his decision to allow Crispin to choreograph his own dance moves. At any rate, while not as terrible as Friday the 13th Part VI: Jason Lives and Friday the 13th Part VIII: Jason Takes Manhattan, Friday the 13th: The Final Chapter proves that the franchise was already starting to overstay its welcome. Oh, and unless I change my mind, that's it as far as Friday the 13th movies go. I'm done, see ya!

Savage Streets (Danny Steinmann, 1984)

In the gritty realm of this unbelievably gritty film, thoughts of revenge may sprout while you're immersed in a tub of a warm water, but when that vengeance pierces the night air, and has properly toweled itself off, penis owners the world over better watch their back, or, in this case, they better watch their front. Why is that exactly? Well, a grim-faced chick named Brenda is straight-up irritated by all the wanton rape and murder that's been befalling those close to her as of late. The equivalent of an unclean hand slapping against your wart-covered inner thigh whilst perusing the results of your ex-girlfriend's chlamydia test, Savage Streets (a.k.a. Straße der Gewalt and Zombie Brigade) is cinematic filth at its finest. Exploding with tactless dialogue, synthesizer-enhanced metal riffs, stupefying shower fights, outdoor strutting, gratuitous camera angles, and the most intrusive boom microphone in movie history (Edit: I'm happy to report that the intrusive boom microphone is nowhere to be found on the new DVD), this trashy flick from writer-director Danny Steinmann (Friday the 13th: A New Beginning) is a raw and ugly look into the tightly-garbed underbelly of teenage gangsterism. Pulling no punches when comes to depicting a society so obsessed with sex and violence, that it can no longer protect its citizens from experiencing both on a semi-regular basis, the barely competent highly entertaining film gingerly sets the stage for its unabashedly full-bosomed champion to implement her unique brand of urban comeuppance. And when that juicy retribution is finally distributed, I have to say, the satisfaction I felt went way beyond the normal constructs of conventional giddiness. So much so, that I kinda wish she could have killed some of them more than once.

Sporting her trademark curvaceous body, a healthy mop of wild yet manageable hair (only the sauciest of headbands dare tame this ample mane), and the foulest mouth this side of Wilshire Boulevard, Linda Blair is a festering cauldron of unmitigated sexiness as Brenda, a scrappy as fuck, crossbow-wielding juvenile delinquent who takes on a smallish throng of leathery hooligans called "The Scars."

Proving yet again that she is one of the most accomplished thespians of her generation, the vivacious Linda Blair is literally seeping toughness as Brenda, a no-nonsense mega-babe who isn't afraid no-one. Take the opening scene, for example, it shows her aggressively prancing up and down Hollywood Boulevard with her gal pals. Solidifying her toughness, her strutting style is awash with an unfermented feistiness. Sheathed in light blue satin trousers (which is apt, since her gang is called "The Satins"), a light blue, chest-enhancing tube-top, and a light blue headband (as you probably guessed, light blue is her preferred colour for this evening), Brenda, and, to a lesser extent, her friends, stalk the streets looking for trouble.

As they're walking down the street (window shopping, perusing smutty magazines, eating ice cream), trouble actually finds them in the form of The Scars, a gang lead by Jake (Robert Dyer), an ill-tempered thug with a Boston accent. Coming close to running over her deaf-mute sister Heather (Linnea Quigley) with their convertible, this near tragedy causes Brenda and Jake to pepper one another verbal insults. Realizing that he was in wrong, Jake apologizes to the girls. Well, actually, Jake makes Fargo (Sal Landi), the strongest member of The Scars, apologize -- you know, since he was driving. Either way, the two gangs go their separate ways.

Unsatisfied by the way the altercation with The Scars played out, and still reeling over the fact her sister was nearly killed by a bunch of contemptible lowlifes, Brenda devises a plan to get back at them. Okay, I wouldn't exactly call stealing their car, going for a joy ride, and filling said car with clumps of Hollywood trash when they're finished with it the kind of action that needs a plan. But that's precisely what the girls end up doing. Of course, the whole joy ride episode upsets The Scars like you wouldn't believe. Sure, their car, other than being a little smelly from all the garbage, is still drivable, but you could totally tell they were not going to let this go.

Unamused by the fact they're being forced to exercise (they get plenty of cardio stalking the streets of Hollywood on a nightly basis) in the school's gym, Brenda and her friends, Rachel (Debra Blee), Francine (Lisa Freeman), Stevie (Marcia Karr), Maria (Luisa Leschin), and Stella (Ina Romeo), move their shapely bodies with as little enthusiasm as humanly possible.

Speaking of shapely bodies, while Linda Blair gets the majority of the attention in the film, and justifiably so (she wields a crossbow in skintight clothing), I thought Marica Karr (Killer Workout) was the most attractive member of Brenda's gang. The sight of Marcia (who's a dead ringer for Gina Gershon) hopping around in that cut-off tank-top (which, in actuality, was an altered Specials t-shirt that was not cut-ff but rather cinched above the waist), striped leotard bottom, and those black footless tights (the clingy material pressing snugly against her tender thighs) during the exercise sequence was a thing of erection-based beauty.

We're introduced to two more female characters in the form of Cindy (Rebecca Perle) and Valerie (Kristi Somers), two blonde, bubbly cheerleaders. Taking exception with the fact that Wes (Brian Frishman), her purported boyfriend, was flirting Brenda while she pretended to exercise, Cindy confronts her in the girls locker room and basically tells her to stay away from him. A fight breaks out, which eventually moves to showers. Surrounded by a weird mix of clothed and naked girls, Brenda and Cindy battle it out in the school's steam-laden girl's shower room (a couple of naked girls can be seen fighting with one another in the background, but the exact nature of their beef is unclear).

Meanwhile, back in the gymnasium, as Brenda and Cindy are being reprimanded by Principal "Go Fuck an Iceberg!" Underwoord (John Vernon) in his office, the Scars are laying a nasty trap for Heather. As the punk-infused Red (Scott Mayer) plays nice with her (he's pretending to be an upstanding gentlemen with, albeit, creepier-than-usual overtones), the rest of the Scars, which include the aforementioned Jake, the vest-wearing Fargo, and the pint-size Vince (Johnny Venocur), the only Scar who actually still goes to school, wait for their opportunity to strike.

What takes place next is a brutal gang rape, which obviously sets the stage for Brenda's revenge. Of course, she doesn't know who's responsible for the crime, so she ends up spending most of her time brooding at a local nightclub and getting in fights with Cindy, the cheerleader (in a classic scene, Brenda forcibly removes her rival's top during a science class dust-up). However, when she does find out, the Scars better watch out, because Brenda takes her revenge seriously. How seriously? Well, let's just say, she has an already outfit picked out for the occasion (when seeking retribution, never, and I mean, never, underestimate the importance of fashion).

Whether calling an insensitive gang member a "motherfucking moron," or pulling at the hair of a blonde adversary, the pugnacious Linda Blair exudes a genuine quality that comes across like a burning sceptre floating in a mound of mucus. In other words, when the contents of her right fingerless glove make a fist, you know every rapist in town will be expelling a fair amount of pee come judgment day.

video uploaded by Tony

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