Class of 1999 (Mark L. Lester, 1990)

When I heard the line: "The year is 1999... there is no law" verbalized with a slightly robotic intonation, I half expected the thumping bass intro of a killer techno jam to immediately follow its utterance. When that didn't occur, I knew I wasn't listening to my well-worn copy of Kickin Mental Detergent, but instead watching a violent oddity about a dystopian future that has already occurred. Taking place in the youth crime saturated netherworld that is the late 1990s, Class of 1999 is a film for those who love the sight of unconventionally dressed teens firing automatic weapons at one another in an after school setting, while simultaneously being stalked by their history, gym and chemistry teachers. Helmed by exploitation master Mark L. Lester (Roller Boogie), the merriment-filled flick combines the herky-jerky head movements and self-contained flamethrowers that permeate the rafters of almost every cyborg movie ever made with the sullen sneering and bad boy posturing of your typical gang picture. In other words: a marriage made in cinematic resplendence. Cap it all off with a Midge Ure song and we're really talking a marriage made in... Okay, enough already with the marriage talk; I've got cyborg action to overly praise. Focusing mainly on the post-incarceration life of Cody Culp (a hard-nosed Bradley Gregg), a recently released juvenile delinquent, the boisterous film follows him as he attempts to make it through high school in the exceedingly tough Free-Fire Zone, a section of Seattle that is off-limits to law enforcement.

Wary of his gang past (a pushy lot called the Blackhearts), Cody is hesitant to reestablish ties with his drug-addicted pals, which include Sonny (Darren E. Burrows), Mohawk (Sean Gregory Sullivan, a.k.a. the hyperactive gun dealer from Who's That Girl), and his little brother Angel (Near Dark's Joshua John Miller). Instead, he finds himself drawn to Christie (Traci Lind from My Boyfriend's Back), a comely young lass who just happens to be the principal's daughter.

On the faculty side of things, the principal (Malcolm McDowell) has given the go ahead to Dr. Bob Forrest (Stacy Keach) and his trio of cyborg teachers, Mr. Bryles (Patrick Kilpatrick), Ms. Connors (Pam Grier), and Mr. Hardin (John P. Ryan), to do a trial run at his heavily fortified learning facility.

A more clearheaded educator would have taken one look at Dr. Forest's cloudy eyes and suspect haircut and said to themselves: "This doesn't feel quite right." But the mechanical teachers are thrust into the classroom despite the obvious dangers. Monitored by a group of smart-looking people in lab coats (one of which was played by Lee Arenberg), the robo-teachers are quick to employ physical force as a means of generating obedience from the school's rambunctious pupils.

Of course, their disciplinary actions become more and more extreme as the week progresses. For example, the pipe smoking history teacher goes from rapidly spanking two students for fighting to asphyxiating one with his own drug paraphernalia after being tardy while high. When two of Cody's buds are killed, he starts to suspect that these newfangled chalkboard jockeys aren't exactly what they seem to be. It's at this moment when the Class of 1999 really starts to really crank up the crazy.

Procuring the help of Christie, Cody tries to uncover the sinister goings on at their school by doing do some suburban sleuthing (I knew it was the suburbs by the lack of sporadic gunfire), only to have the rogue teachers out maneuver them by inciting a gang war between Cody's the Blackhearts and the Razorheadz, lead by Hector (James Medina), who has already felt the heeled wrath of Pam Grier.

The showdown at the docks between the two heavily armed gangs was hands down my favourite sequence in the entire movie. The way they both positioned themselves, utilized mounds of debris as cover, and waited until everyone was ready were the first things I admired about this shootout. I mean, to see unruly gang members behave in such a chivalrous manner was rather refreshing. However, I nearly lost it when the actual shooting commenced. A virtual wave of irregular machine gun fire coming from all directions, this is exactly what I look for when it comes to on-screen mayhem. Forget about trying to figure out who's who and just sit back and watch the bullet-fueled insanity unfold.

There's one thing I can't decide, and that this, were the characters that populated this ultra-bleak universe more like the audience at your average Front 242 concert circa 1991? Or were they more akin to the loose assemblage of weirdos you might catch stage diving at a My Life With The Thrill Kill Kult gig, again, circa 1991? The sheer amount of black leather, studs, military footwear, and sullied denim worn throughout this film was mind-boggling. (Yeah, my mind is easily boggled.)

Speaking of being boggled, I'm still trying to figure out why Traci Lind's character is sporting a turban during a brief hallway encounter. She wasn't wearing it when the day began, and she certainly wasn't wearing it ended. Did she convert to Sikhism at lunch but decided to go back to her usual belief system by the time the afternoon bell rang out? Either way, it doesn't make sense because female Sikhs aren't big turban wearers. As they say, a mystery for the ages.

Anyway, heads are drilled, motorcycles are driven through the school's hallways, and flamethrowers are...thrown. Fun flick.

video uploaded by xtheunknown71

...

Jawbreaker (Darren Stein, 1999)

Question: When you were in high school, did any of the girls wear stockings with seams? Personally, I can't remember anyone who wore stockings at all, let alone ones with seams. Such is one of the many interesting stylistic conundrums that flooded my psyche as I gazed upon the super sheer glow of Jawbreaker (a.k.a. Der Zuckersüße Tod), a dark, yet optically soothing film about candy-based manslaughter and the pressures that come with trying to fit in at a cruel collegiate institute. The teens that populate this hyper-colourful adolescent world all looked as if they were pushing thirty. I mean, they didn't look "too old" in the classic sense, they just looked overly sophisticated; hence, the seams. However, it seemed to go beyond archaic stocking design. In that, the confidence the main characters projected had an almost regal air. This royal smell is most prominently on display when the catty foursome find themselves walking down the hall in slow motion to the strains of Imperial Teen. Opening with the semi-accidental killing of the benevolent member of a cocksure clique of chichi seniors, Jawbreaker manages to out Heather Heathers with its morbid commencement: Three girls plan on celebrating their friends birthday by pretending to kidnap her and doing all sorts of prankish deeds to her lively organic structure. Unfortunately, things go terribly wrong from the get-go, when an ill-conceived gagging technique goes awry and their angelic friend ends up asphyxiating on a golf ball-size ball of dissolving candy (a.k.a. a jawbreaker or gobstopper).

The alpha female of the group immediately takes control of the unique situation and all seems to be going "peachy fucking keen" (a weak yet plausible cover-up is already in the works).

Then Fern Mayo shows up.

Now, the film's tone is pretty toxic up until this point; thus, my comparison to the Daniel Waters penned classic. However, things don't stay so dark for long. Oh, don't get me wrong, it's got lot's of bite here and there. It's just that it softens a tad after the body is hauled away.

What I did enjoy this time around was the unspecific approach to when the film actually takes place. The moderately-sized cell phones, some of the music, and references to cyberspace put it taking place squarely in the late 1990s. But everything else had an indistinct quality about it that kept me guessing. For example, they use of an old style diner, the drive-in theatre, the Connie Francis ditty, and the car the hunky hero (Chad Christ) drove all screamed 1955.

Unclear periods of time are great and stuff, but what keeps coming back to Jawbreaker again and again is the opportunity to bask in the coordinated attractiveness of Rebecca Gayheart, Rose McGowan, Judy Greer, and Julie Benz. I mention Julie last because her Marcie Fox fails to exhibit any individuality (she's a sycophant of the worst kind). Though, I should say, Miss Benz does garner two or three hardy laughs.

The always amazing Judy Greer gets to play two characters: The socially awkward Fern Mayo and the instantly popular Vylette. The chance to go from grungy earth-tones to gaudy pinks must have been a joy for Miss Greer. And, for some strange reason, the way she towers over McGowan and Benz during the slo-mo walking sequences always cracks me up.

The statuesque Judy narrates the film's prologue and to hear one of favourite actresses call another one of my favourite actresses "the leggy one" was the kind of treat only I could extract pleasure from. The actress denoted as leggy was the fabulous Rebecca Gayheart, who gives a measured performance as Julie Freeman, the films conscious. I never noticed this before but I was quite impressed by the physical dominance she had over the other ladies. Check out her proficiency during the film's many walking scenes for proof of this control.

The high school equivalent of a genocidal madwoman, Rose McGowan is a force of nature as Courtenay Shayne. Immoral, unscrupulous, mean-spirited, and a tad kinky, the shapely actress is gorgeously evil from start to finish. Boasting not a single redeeming quality, I loved the pure nastiness of character. Plus, I can't imagine any school allowing someone that sexy to walk halls of their installation. An impotent principal (the always appealing Carol Kane) tries to curb Courtnay's sexiness by asking her to button up her blouse, but such actions are rendered futile when looked at from a distance. Seriously, you can see her delicious curves from space.

Anyway, I truly believe, if given the chance, that Rose's character would kill a million people if, say, there was some sort of lip gloss theft or an incident involving a broken heel. Yep, she's that depraved.

The legendary Pam Grier, Riff Randell herself P.J. Soles, Ann Russo (credited as Ann Zupa), Marilyn Manson, Jeff Conaway (as Marcie's dad), Lisa Robin Kelly (Laurie from That 70's Show), The Donnas and the tastily stemmed Tatyana Ali all make brief appearances throughout the film, but they're not in it enough to justify any sort of long-winded spiel.

...