Into the Night (John Landis, 1985)

As with most people, my initial thoughts after watching John Landis' Into the Night revolved around the unequaled chic-ness that is Michelle Pfeiffer's red leather jacket. If you find yourself not enamored with it after watching this film, check yourself in at the nearest morgue, 'cause you be dead, honey. Okay, maybe that's a tad harsh, but you should definitely seek professional help. I mean, it's red, it's shiny, it's fits her perfectly, it has multiple uses (it's used as a pillow at one point), and it's, well, you get the idea. However, as these thoughts eventually subsided, I started to debate with myself about whether or not the iconic red leather jacket would have looked better on Dedee Pfeiffer, Michelle's less famous sister. I know, I just got finished saying that the jacket fit Michelle Pfeiffer perfectly. Yet I couldn't help but imagine Dedee Pfeiffer wearing the much-ballyhooed garment. To make matters worse, Dedee Pfeiffer has a cameo as a prostitute turning tricks outside Frederick's of Hollywood. In case you haven't figured it out, when it comes to the Pfeiffer sisters, I'm on Team Dedee. While Michelle has the haunting eyes and the chiseled cheekbones thing going for her, Dedee has spunk-appeal.

Wow, are my priorities out of whack or what? In a movie that boasts at least a dozen cameos by famous directors, the cameo I decide to focus on is the one by the spunk-laden sister of the film's female lead.

Actually, if you think about it, my priorities are not out of whack, they're kinda in whack. Seriously, who would you rather grope in the backseat of your grandma's sister's cousin's Chevrolet El Camino? Dedee Pfeiffer or Paul Mazursky? (I don't think the Chevy El Camino has a backseat.) Okay, the front seat. Well? Who would you rather grope? Exactly, Dedee all the way.

Of course, if I had said Amy Heckerling (who has a cameo as a waitress) instead of Mr. Mazursky, the question becomes a real mind-scrambler, as Amy is a total babe. But I didn't. Besides, the majority of the directors are middle-aged white men. Not that there's anything wrong with being middle-aged, or white for that matter, it's just that...

Moving on, you could call this the L.A. version of After Hours, but I won't. Why? It's simple, really, all they have in common is that they both take place at night. Sure, Jeff Goldblum and Griffin Dunne (the star of After Hours) have similar character traits, and they both have tedious jobs, but other than that, they're totally different. And I think the main reason has to do with the fact that L.A. is a car town, while New York City is not.

Playing aerospace engineer Ed Okin, Jeff Goldblum drives or is driven in at least six different cars over the course of this movie. Isn't that fascinating? Anyway, the car we first see Ed in is as bland as he is. Stuck in traffic with a co-worker (Dan Aykroyd), Ed says that he hasn't had a full night sleep since the summer of 1980. While he's exaggerating to some degree, his lack of shut-eye is having a negative effect on his work. After blowing it in front of his boss (David Cronenberg) at an important board meeting, Ed decides to take the rest of the day off. When he gets home, he hears his real estate agent wife (Stacey Pickren) making sex noises in their bedroom.

Taking Dan Aykroyd's advice, a despondent Ed elects to hop on a board a midnight flight to Las Vegas. Getting as far as the airport parking garage, Ed meets a woman named Diana (Michelle Pfeiffer), who jumps on the hood of his car screaming for help.

What's that? Oh, the reason she's screaming is because four SAVAK goons (one played by John Landis) are trying to kill her. Why are they trying to kill her? Well, I don't know if they want to kill her, at least not right away. You see, they want what's inside her pussy. I won't say exactly what it is that the Iranians want, but trust me, to them it's worth what they go through to get inside there. And by "there," I mean her pussy.

At this point in the film, Ed makes multiple attempts to extract himself from this sticky pickle of a situation. However, you'll notice that he isn't trying very hard. The thing is, a lot of men find Michelle Pfeiffer to be easy on the eyes. And because of this, Michelle Pfeiffer is able to manipulate almost every man she comes in contact with. The reason I say "almost" is because Diana's Elvis-loving brother (Bruce McGill) is clearly not swayed by her sister's overt attractiveness.

I thought it was amusing that Michelle Pfeiffer tries to out bluster Bruce McGill in his Elvis memorabilia adorned apartment. Give it up, girl, you can't upstage Bruce McGill. He'll straight-up knock your dick in the dirt. Just ask Wings Hauser ("Wipe that smirk off your face!"). Or even Crocket and Tubbs, who Bruce mops the floor with in "Out Where the Buses Don't Run," one of the best Miami Vice episodes from season two.

"You wanna date? Do you want to party?" and with those memorable lines, we're introduced to Dedee Pfeiffer, prostitute, humanitarian. Her crimped blonde hair glowing in the neon slime, her Retail Slut belts zigzagging across her womanly waste with a clingy form of clingy desperation, her zebra print skirt practically begging to be hiked up during the throes of... Wait, where is she going? Why don't Ed and Diana want to "party" with Dedee Pfeiffer? This makes no sense.

Now, I won't say Into the Night goes completely downhill/off the rails after Dedee Pfeiffer exits stage left; after all, a well-built Kathryn Harrold is still to come. But I was somewhat crestfallen by her departure. That being said, on top of the luminous Miss Harrold, the film also boasts a scene where three extras playing beauty queens are getting their legs polished by a female crew member.

After surviving multiple attempts on their life, including one by an assassin played by David Bowie (it would seem that the Iranians are not the only ones who want to get their hands on what's inside Michelle Pfeiffer's pussy), Ed and Diana begin to... well, you pretty much know exactly what they begin to do. They begin to fall for one another. Despite this cliched turn of events, the movie is still a mildly entertaining mish-mash of comedy and action.

If you're not into comedy and action, you could always play spot the director, as the film, like I said earlier, features numerous cameos by famous directors, including personal faves like, Amy Heckerling (Fast Times at Ridgemont High), Paul Bartel (Eating Raoul) and David Cronenberg (Rabid).

Oh, and the scene where the four SAVAK goons drown one of their victims in the ocean is one of the most disturbing murder scenes in film history. Okay, maybe that's pushing it a bit. Nevertheless, I found the cavalier brutality of the scene to be quite jarring, especially since the film is supposedly a light-hearted buddy comedy.

Killer Party (William Fruet, 1986)

I don't mean to imply that the rest of Killer Party (a.k.a. The April Fools) is complete crap, but the first eight or so minutes of this Toronto shot slasher flick are freakin' amazing. And... Okay, I might as well get this out of the way before I continue: There's a scene in this film where an American flag can be seen lurking in the corner of a university library (it's lurking behind Paul Bartel to be specific). I know, I said it was "Toronto shot," and the last time I checked, Toronto wasn't in the United States of America, but the makers of this film clearly don't want you to know that. Anyway, getting back to the opening eight or so minutes. Were the first eight or so minutes and what transpires afterward made by the same people? I mean, the opening is bursting with creativity, while the other stuff is bursting with nothing whatsoever. Don't get me wrong, I did love what Elaine Wilkes, Sherry Willis-Bunch and Joanna Johnson brought to the table as a trio of collage age best friends who want to join a prestigious sorority at a Toronto university, but they can't compete with black seamed pantyhose and pink and blonde crimped hair.

Just to clarify, the black seamed pantyhose were attached to the shapely legs of Elizabeth Hanna, who plays Stephanie, the daughter-in-law of the dead woman in the coffin at a church funeral,  and the pink and blonde crimped hair belongs to Danielle Kiraly, who plays April, a bubbly teen attending a drive-in movie with her boyfriend.

Now, you're probably thinking to yourself: What are these characters doing in the same movie? That's just it, they're not in the same movie. Are you ready? Here it goes: Stephanie's a character is in the movie April is watching at the drive-in. Isn't that wild?

What's that? You say lot's of movies do the old movie within a movie gag. Oh yeah. Things get even wilder when we discover that April is actually a character in a Thriller-style hard rock music video by White Sister. See what I mean? Weird, wild stuff.

Anyone care to guess who's watching this Thriller-style hard rock music video? That's right, one of the college age women from that trio I mentioned earlier.

I don't mean to continue to rag on everything that occurs after it's revealed that April's in a music video, but it's almost as if the people behind this movie decided to throw in the towel after the eight minute mark.

Though, to be fair, "Best Times," written by Alan Brackett and Scott Shelly–the song that plays while Phoebe (Elaine Wilkes), Vivia (Sherry Willis-Bunch) and Jennifer (Joanna Johnson) ride their bikes to class–is a thousand times more awesome than that White Sister song.

Opening with a funeral service for a woman named Annabel, we watch as the bereaved family members leave the church. Just as the aforementioned Stephanie is about exit, she asks the priest if it's okay to go back in to pay her respects one last time. Hmm, isn't that sweet, I thought to myself, Stephanie must have really loved her mother-in-law. Oh, wait, she just told Annabel that she hopes she rots in hell. After she says this, multiple times, mind you, Annabel grabs Stephanie and pulls her into the coffin. As she's pulling her in, we get some great shots of Stephanie's black pantyhose as she struggles with what I assume is Annabel's reanimated corpse.

Just as the coffin is about to be set alight in the church's crematorium, we're whisked to a drive-in movie theatre where April and her boyfriend (who is all hands) are watching Stephanie burn to death.

Hankering some popcorn, April walks, or, I should say, skips, to the theatre's large, neon-light adorned concession area. Only problem is, there's no-one there. On the bright side, the neon lighting does an excellent job accentuating the 1980s overkill that is April's overall look.

The crimped hair, the kooky tights, the pink gloves, the white lace scrunchie, everything about her ensemble practically screams shopping mall new wave.

Suddenly, out of nowhere, a rock video featuring bombastic lead singers with hairy chests, keyboardists in torn football jerseys and zombies starts up.

As the music video is winding down and the band "White Sister" finish singing: "April! You're no fool!" We're whisked (yet again) to a living room, where Phoebe is watching the White Sister music video.

It helps to know that this movie's original title was "The April Fools" going in, because if you didn't (like I didn't), you would no doubt wonder what the hell is going on.

If you're like me, and you love '80s synth-pop with detached female vocals, think the University of Toronto campus is beautiful, especially in the fall, and wish more movies would sport chicks riding bikes, then the next sequence is for you.

While her friends Phoebe and Vivia are gung-ho about joining the Sigma Alpha Pi sorority, Jennifer is a tad apprehensive.

It wouldn't be a collage set horror film without pranks, and we get a real doozy of a prank when the slobs at Beta Tau unleash a jar of bees next to a backyard hot tub filled with naked Sigma Alpha Pi ladies. There are numerous things to like about this scene. But I think the appearance of the great Terri Hawkes (Hello Mary Lou: Prom Night II) is the real reason to cheer. Quirky fun-fact: Terri Hawkes provides the voice of Sailor Moon on the series of the same name.

If Phoebe, Jen and Vivia want to join Sigma Alpha Pi, they're going to have to convince the sorority's leader, Veronica (a wonderfully unpleasant Alicia Fleer), they're worthy. And if that means reciting childish nonsense ("I, myself prefer a big fat cucumber") or stealing t-shirts from Beta Taus, than so be it.

Even though Paul Bartel (Eating Raoul), who plays an English professor, makes an allusion to it, I still love the fact that no explanation is given as to why Phoebe, Jen and Vivia are all wearing one red item and one white item on their feet (mismatched sisterly solidarity perhaps?). If memory serves me correctly, Phoebe has on one red shoe and one white shoe, Jen is wearing one red sock and one white sock, Vivia is rocking one red legwarmer and one white legwarmer.

Surviving "Goat Night," Sigma Alpha Pi's elaborate initiation process (a process where Terri Hawkes and Alicia Fleer appear in togas), Phoebe, Jen and Vivia are on the fast track to becoming fully fledged members of the sorority. Yay!

Fashion-wise, I don't know which I liked better: The sight Sherry Willis-Burch rocking a pink sweater with a yellow neck or Alicia Fleer gliding down the school's hallways in a tight pencil skirt. Ahh, talk about your tough decisions. Either way, nothing comes close to topping the ensemble Danielle Kiraly wears during the film's much ballyhooed opening.

I don't know why movies like this bother to hire make-up artists and special effects people if all they're going to do is edit out all the blood and gore. The film might be called "Killer Party," but not a single character is killed onscreen. Boo!

On the plus side, the so-called "Killer Party" does feature some killer looks. And if I was going to give out the prize for best costume at Sigma Alpha Pi and Beta Tau's Costume Party: April Fools Night, I would have to go with Phoebe's aerobics get-up: Tights! Legwarmers! Leotards! Headbands! Armwarmers! Oh my! Second prize would go to Martin (Ralph Seymour), the film's primary red herring, for his Madame Bovary costume.

Would have Killer Party been a lot better had the blood and gore not been edited out? Maybe. But still, if you like '80s fashion, '80s music, or are a fan of Toronto... in the '80s, you should check this flick out.

Liquid Dreams (Mark S. Manos, 1991)

When the luminous Mink Stole (Desperate Living) first appears onscreen and extends her glad-hand to Candice Daly's character, my initial thought was: Yay! Mink Stole! Why the yay? It's simple, really, Mink Stole rules and you rarely ever see her act in movies that are not written and directed by John Waters (Mondo Trasho). However, when that initial yay-based thought had subsided, another thought popped into my head immediately afterward. And that was: Call me crazy, but it would seem that Mink Stole and I have the exact same arms! As I was thinking this thought, it dawned me: I don't think it's a good idea for grown men living on the fringes of heterosexuality to openly admit that they have the exact same arms as Mink Stole. Then I thought: Fuck that shit, I'm not ashamed of my puny arms. In other words, say it loud and say it proud: I have the upper body of a twelve year-old girl. Deal with it. Okay, enough about my tiny little girl arms, let's get down to the nitty-gritty of this cinematic alkaline potassium compound. It's called Liquid Dreams and it is hands down one of the most aesthetically pleasing films I've seen in a long time.

Remember when you saw Front 242 live in concert back in the early 1990s? You do? Excellent. Do you recall all those television sets in the background that were playing weird images on a loop? Actually, I'm not entirely sure if it was Front 242 now that I think about it. All right, let me try again. Did anyone see an industrial band in concert during the early 1990s? Well, if you did, you'll recognize a lot the imagery used throughout this hyper-stylish sci-fi noir/erotic thriller.

Part Videodrome, part Wizard of Oz, part Dr. Caligari, part Baby Face, with a dash of Liquid Sky thrown in there for good measure, Liquid Dreams takes place in what looks like the not-so distant future.

And even though place names like, "Ohio" and "Kansas" are used in the early going, the film shirks nationalism and seems much more interested in creating a unique sense of time and place. It attempts to depict a world that exists purely on its own terms. Something I wish more films would try to do, as I'm getting little tired of films that are set in the real world.

Proving that you don't necessarily need a big budget in order to fashion a completely fabricated world from scratch, writer-director Mark Manos and co-writer Zack Davis set their dystopic vision in a large building called "NeuroVid," which I think was created by using a large model.

While I'm itching to give you a guided tour of the NeuroVid Complex, let's first talk about that opening credits sequence, as it's a doozy. Starting with an explosion of static noise, we're shown a rapid fire series of bizarre images set to what sounds like a Clock DVA* B-side circa The Hacker. Boasting masked figures moaning, scat porn (I'm not 100% sure about this one), blurry images, video glitches, lips smeared with blood and random acts of sadomasochism, the makers of Liquid Dreams have already signaled to me that they mean business. Which, I'll admit, caused me to let out a bit of a sigh of relief, as I thought I was about to watch a bland straight-to-cable erotic thriller.

The cab driver (John Doe) who picks up Eve Black (Candice Daly) pegs her as a small town girl from Ohio in search of a lost love in the big city. Telling him that she is in fact from Kansas and is in search of Tina (Karen Dahl), her long lost sister, Eve instructs the cabbie to let her out in front of an ominous-looking building.

When she enters the lobby, we get our first real taste of NeuroVid, the only channel available in the NeuroVid Complex. Finding her sister's apartment on level three, Eve is shocked to discover her sister lying dead in her bathtub. Asking Cecil (Tracey Walter), a NeuroVid employee with a stutter, to help her, Eve begins to panic. Who did this to her and how did she end up in this place? are the questions that are probably going through her mind right now as she watches Cecil snap pictures of Tina's naked corpse.

Looking like he just stepped off the set of a classic film noir, Lt. Rodino (Richard Steinmetz) enters the room and begins asking Eve a bunch of questions. Wearing a fedora and seemingly always in the process of lighting a cigarette, Lt. Rodino's forthright manner manages to irk Eve, who is still somewhat shell-shocked.

When Eve makes it clear that she has no intention of leaving until she finds out who was responsible for her sister's death, Lt. Rodino asks her, using the most condescending tone in his vast arsenal of condescending tones, if she has any idea where she is. While his tone is a tad dickish, he is right, Eve has no clue what's in store for her if she decides to hang around NeuroVid.

Noticing a video monitor on the wall (every room is equipped with one), she turns up the volume and experiences the audio-video assault that is NeuroVid first-hand. I must say, even though we only get a brief taste of what NeuroVid has to offer, the moment when Eve turns up the volume has to be one of the most industrial moments in film history.

After Lt. Rodino leaves, Eve thinks that she can simply start living in Tina's apartment. Wrong! You see, the apartments in the NeuroVid complex are strictly for employees of NeuroVid. Which means... well, I'll let Juno (Juan Fernández) explain it to her. Kicking her out before she even had to a chance to ask how much the rent is, Eve is sent packing.

Luckily, Paula (Frankie Thorn), who is wearing red gloves and a headband covered in polka dots, sees this and decides to help Eve out by getting her audition to work at The Red Top, a club located on the fifth floor that sort of acts as training ground for new girls (and you can't get any more new than Eve). Borrowing one of Paula's outfits, a tight red dress, Eve is "interviewed" by Maurice (James Oseland), who tells her to dance on his desk without knocking anything over. You would think that Eve's long, shapely legs would be knocking things over left, right and centre, but she doesn't upset a single item on his desk. Boo-ya!

Given the stage name "Dorothy," Eve is assigned a first floor dormitory (she seems glad her room's video monitor is on the fritz, but Cecil tells her he'll come by to fix it later - NeuroVid, NV for short, is mandatory), and she gets a quick refresher course on the many rules and regulations that come with working at The Red Top by Juno, her new boss (that's right, one minute he's kicking you out onto the street, the next he's telling you that you'll be making 500 units a week).

Now, The Red Top isn't your average strip club. The men ask the women if they want to slow dance, and when the men start to get grabby, the woman takes him to a private area located behind a red curtain. Once there, the man is escorted by a couple of "Escorts" (men in grey jumpsuits) to The Hot Box. What happens in The Hot Box is a bit of a mystery at first. But as we soon find out, the reason the women are instructed to take the men behind the red curtain when they get grabby is because that's when their brains are teeming with endorphins.

One of the first men Eve/Dorothy takes behind the red curtain is Angel (Paul Bartel), a throat, ear and foot fetishist (his line pertaining to Eve/Dorothy's sweaty feet brought a tear to my eye). Curious to know what happens to the men once they're inside The Hot Box, Eve/Dorothy decides to take a peak. And let's just say Eve/Dorothy is appalled by what she sees.

Told that she has "television potential," Eve/Dorothy reluctantly agrees to appear in one of NeuroVid's videos. This leads to the film's best sequence, a video shoot on a farm set featuring a male reactor (those who appear in NV videos are not called actors, they're called reactors) dressed like a deformed scarecrow and two half-naked guys in crow masks dancing around  Eve/Dorothy, who is dressed as a farm girl in white hold-up stockings.

Instructed by the video's director, Felix (Mink Stole), to listen to her muze, the scene mixes Rinse Dream-style kookiness with Belgian electro-industrial music (Insekt, Vomito Negro, A Split-Second, The Klinik, Snowy Red, Liquid G, etc.), as the vocal sample, "freedom from the flesh," is repeated over and over again.

In-between the shots of Eve/Dorothy shooting her NV video, we're shown snippets of her performance at Twilight, the strip club that serves as a jumping off point to being chosen to participate in The Ritual. And once you have performed in both a NeuroVid video and danced at Twilight, you're pretty much guaranteed to be asked to partake in The Ritual. And as you might expect, The Ritual takes place on the penthouse floor, where The Major (Barry Dennen), the NV big cheese, rules over his sick, twisted, self-contained mini-empire.

As both Paula (who lounges in white hold up stockings while watching NV like a pro) and Marilyn Tokuda's Violet (a fellow Red Top dancer who is obsessed with Eve/Dorothy's leather jacket) would say, in the world of NeuroVid, "you're either up or out." That's right, there's no turning back for her. If Eve really wants to know what happened to her sister, she's going to have to keep climbing the NeuroVid ladder all the way to the top.

Black stockings, white stockings, blindfolds, syringes, Mink Stole (Female Trouble - "I wouldn't suck your lousy dick if I was suffocating and there was oxygen in your balls!"), talk of "peak experiences," siphoning endorphins, Paul Bartel (Eating Raoul - "Why don't you go to bed, honey? I'll bag the Nazi and straighten up."), mismatched opera gloves, industrial inspired music (composer Ed Tomney's electronic score is amazing), muze blocking, skinny arm confessions, Tracey Walter (Repo Man - "The more you drive, the less intelligent you are."), and neon diner clocks, Liquid Dreams, to put it simply, is what awesome looks like.

If you're like me, and you thought someone should make a movie that totally looks like it was inspired by the cover of "The Ritual Should Be Kept Alive (Part 2)" by The Hybryds (who, like everything that was cool circa 1990, are from Belgium), your prayers have finally been answered.

Oh, and, by the way, if you have twenty-five minutes to kill, you should check out "The Ritual Should Be Kept Alive (Part 2)," it's trippy and intense. And lastly, don't even think about trying to take advantage of my freakishly tiny arms, I have the legs of a Welsh rugby player. Meaning, I'll straight up kick your ass.

* Clock DVA is actually pronounced "klok dvah." I used to say, "klok dee-vee-ay" back in the day. I know, how embarrassing.