City Limits (Aaron Lipstadt, 1984)

Even though this is yet another film that is supposedly set in the future, it technically takes place in the past. Um, I think that makes sense. Nevertheless, despite the wonky timeline, City Limits still manages to capture the unwashed disquietude of a world rife with unopened cans of cat food and fingerless gloves as far as the eye can see. How, you might be asking yourself, does it manage to do this? It's simple, really. Costume designer Merril Greene was obviously given free reign when it came time to design the various outre outfits worn by The Clippers and The DA's. And, no, I'm not talking about the NBA franchise, nor am I talking about a group of funkily attired trial lawyers. Believe or not, The Clippers and The DA's are two of L.A.'s toughest bike gangs. Actually, I think they're L.A.'s only bike gangs (they basically run the entire city). Of course, there's not much for them to rule over nowadays... you know, since a mysterious plague wiped out almost the entire population. Needless to say, with no links to the past, the citizens living in this post-apocalyptic paradise have developed their own unorthodox sense of style.

Now, if, say, The Clippers or The DA's were to walk down the street during the pre-apocalypse, they would probably be laughed at (or worse, be accused of being hipsters). However, since the people who would have been doing the majority of the laughing are all dead, it means that Rae Dawn Chong can wear a white fedora with a pink cape covered in black polka dots without having to worry about being judged by the self-appointed fashion police.

If this world sounds too good to be true. Don't worry. The fine folks at Sunya Inc. want to change all that. In a normal movie, Sunya would be the heroes, and bikers the villains. But in a bizarre twist, especially for a movie from the mid-1980's (a period when Charles Bronson/Chuck Norris/Sly Stalone-style vigilantism was all the rage), City Limits implies that the biker way of life is the way of life worth preserving.

Sure, Sunya will tell you that all they want to do is turn the lights on and bring back other essential services to the city. And who in their right mind would be against that? Yeah, but can Rae Dawn Chong still wear flannel shirts with studded collars? (Um, I don't think she wears anything like that in this movie.) Okay, maybe she doesn't wear a flannel shirt with a studded collar. But at least she can if she wants to. When Sunya take over, you can pretty much forget about mixing and matching.

How do I know this? Trust me, if the leader of a powerful, quasi-fascist organization looks like Norbert Weisser, you can pretty much kiss your freedom goodbye.

Oh, crap. It just dawned on me that Mick (Darrell Larson), the leader of The Clippers, sort of looks like Norbert Weisser, who, if I haven't mentioned already, plays Bolo, Sunya's most Germanic honcho. Either way, judging by Norbert's actions, it's clear that Sunya are not to be trusted.
    

Born in the desert and raised by James Earl Jones (his parents died during the plague), Lee (John Stockwell) has grown tired of living in the country, and yearns to go the city. Hopping on his motorbike, Lee rides to L.A. with the hope of joining The Clippers.

Now, this may come across as a tad dickish, but any review for City Limits that fails to give props to Mitchell Froom's score should be discounted immediately. Seriously, it's that good. Sure, it sounds a lot like Mr. Froom's Café Flesh score. But as almost everyone knows, the Café Flesh score is one of the greatest scores of all-time. In other words, you could view City Limits as the real Café Flesh 2 (no offense to the late great Antonio Passolini - a.k.a. Johnny Jump-Up). Except instead of being about Sex Negatives looking for post-nuke thrills at a club run by Tantala Ray, it's about... Come to think of it, the plots of the two films are eerily similar. Of course, no one expels seminal fluid on anyone in City Limits. Which is a shame, as I was hoping to see James Earl Jones blast his CNN-bank rolled seed all over Pamela Ludwig's alabaster backside.

Don't look at me that way. It's clear to anyone with eyes that James Earl Jones and Pamela Ludwig (Over the Edge) do more than bond over model airplanes in this movie.

Anyway, after being initiated, Lee is accepted into The Clipper fold. Oh, wait. It would seem that Ray (Danny De La Paz), the leader of The DA's, wants Lee dead. You see, one of The DA's was killed during the chase involving Lee. So, Ray wants restitution.

Instead handing Lee over, Whitey (John Diehl), or maybe it was Sammy (Don Keith Opper)... Whoever it was, trial by combat is put forth as a possible solution. I liked how the idea comes from issue #43 of Insect Man, a comic book that serves as a sort of bible in this film's universe. In a way, it reminded me of how the Earth book "Chicago Mobs of the Twenties" shaped the residents of Sigma Iotia II in the Star Trek episode, "A Piece of the Action."

The cool thing about the trial by combat sequence is that Jennifer Balgobin (Dr. Calgari and Repo Man) is the one The DA's  choose to fight Lee. Any time I can add a Jennifer Balgobin movie to my list of Jennifer Balgobin movies that I've seen is a reason to celebrate. Watch out, Out of Bounds, you're next!

If you look closely, you can spot Jennifer Balgobin busting out some sweet ninja moves during the climatic battle scene as well.

The reason there's a climatic battle scene is because The Clippers refuse to cooperate with Sunya. Managing somehow to convince Ray and The DA's that working with Sunya is in their best interest, the corporation, lead by Robby Benson, seem to be having trouble convincing The Clippers.

When asking nicely gets them nowhere, Sunya resort to acts of violence. It's at around this time that Wickings (Kim Cattrall), an idealist Sunya employee, realizes that the company she works for is super-nefarious. Of course, by the time she figures this out, it's too late.

With the majority of their members either dead or being subjected to Sunya sponsored re-education seminars, The Clippers find themselves with their backs against the wall. Will these freedom-loving, motorcycle-riding, flamboyantly-dressed samurai ass-clowns be able to retake their half of the city from a heavily armed group of jumpsuit-wearing fascists? Probably. I mean, sure, the odds are not exactly in their favour. But I bet they got a few tricks up their puffy sleeve.

The most puzzling question has to be: Why did Mystery Science Theater 3000 feature this movie on their show? I thought they only watched bad movies, and City Limits is not even close to being a bad movie. Weird. At any rate, if you like films like, Café Flesh, Punk Vacation, Roller Blade and Shredder Orpheus, you should give this film a whirl.

Fear City (Abel Ferrara, 1984)

If a retired boxer, one who currently runs a talent agency that hires out strippers to the city's strip clubs, meets a psychotic kung-fu master in a dark alley, who would win? Okay, first of all, you have to ask yourself: What's at stake? I mean, the victor has to come away something, or else the contest is meaningless. Well, if the former wins, he gets to continue dating a heroin-addicted Melanie Griffith. As for the latter, he gets the opportunity to finish his literally masterwork. Just curious, what might that masterwork be called? It's called "Fear City," which just happens to the title of my latest cinematic foray into the depths of stripper-adjacent misery. And secondly, how did these two men, who, besides being trained fighters, end up at odds with one another? That's simple, their lifestyles don't mesh. The former boxer makes his living exploiting women for monetary gain, the material artist, on the other hand, while he doesn't exactly "make his living" doing this, enjoys doing bodily harm to the women the former boxer is trying to exploit. You're probably thinking to yourself: An ex-boxer who exploits women (he's basically a pimp with an office) and a deranged weirdo who wields nunchucks after dark (he's basically Joe Spinelli in Maniac, you know, without the mannequin fetish), these are the guys I'm supposed to root for? It's true, they're both scumbags. Nevertheless, I found the film's lack of judgment towards them and the rest of its characters to be its greatest strength. Whoa, hold on there, buddy. Let's not get carried away, shall we? You're right, the film's greatest strength is actually the authentic New York City flavour, specifically, the scenes that take place on 42nd Street, it puts out there on a semi-regular basis. But the fact the lead characters were deeply flawed individuals was very appealing.
 

 

The film, directed by Abel Ferrara (The Driller Killer), might not judge the characters, but that doesn't mean Al Wheeler (Billy Dee Williams), a cynical homicide detective, is going to let them off so easily. You think I'm kidding around? If it's your job to provide the strip clubs that dot the Manhattan landscape with able-bodied strippers, Al Wheeler doesn't like you. If it's your job to provide the strip clubs that dot the Manhattan landscape with able-bodied strippers, and you happen to be of Italian extraction, Al Wheeler straight-up hates your ass.
 

 

Now, I was going to add an Italian slur before the word "ass," but I don't want to appear to complacent about Al Wheeler's intense dislike for Italian-Americans. Having said that, I thought Al Wheeler's anti-Italian stance added yet another layer to this morally complex tale about pimps, strippers, and lowlifes. You see, Al Wheeler, who presents himself as a champion of justice, is basically a reprobate with a badge.
 

 

You'll notice that I called the guys who run the "talent agency" that provide the strippers, or, as they're sometimes referred to, "exotic dancers," for the city's strip clubs as "pimps." The reason for that is I have no idea what to call them. In my mind, if you make money off the exploitation of women, you're a pimp. Not that there's anything wrong with being a pimp. It's just that I don't feel comfortable calling them, oh, let's say, talent agents.
 

 

Looking at the sheer extravagance of the film's opening scene, you might be inclined to think that the producers of Fear City  paid millions of dollars to capture of the seedy charm of 42nd Street in the early 1980s. But I'm sure it didn't cost nothing at all. What I think I'm trying to say is, the director simply has to turn on his or her camera and the energy of the street does the rest. 
 

 

After the opening montage, which included as a dizzying array of garish billboard lights and a steady concourse of thong-ensnared undercarriages gyrating in time to the beat, has finished, the film begins to focus on a blonde stripper named Loretta (Melanie Griffith). Oh, and before you let out a groan. Remember, this is Body Double Melanie Griffith, not Shining Through Melanie Griffith. (The reason I didn't reference Working Girl Melanie Griffith is because I like Working Girl.) Anyway, Loretta, who is wearing full-length blue sequined number with a massive, and I mean, massive, slit down the side, has the audience eating out of her hand.
 

 

Just as we're about to get a close-up shot Loretta pulling down the zipper of her dress, Matt Rossi (Tom Berenger) and Nicky Parzeno (Jack Scalia) arrive at the strip club with much fanfare. If they're not cops, and don't own the joint, what is their connection to this place? I'll answer that question in a minute, Loretta is about to pull on her zipper. Yeah, baby. Great shot, Abel Ferarra; very sleazy. Okay, where was I? The connection. It would seem that Matt and Nicky run the Starlite Talent Agency, the city's premiere stripper emporium. If you need a stripper, these are your guys. Obviously, the owner of this fine establishment, Mike (Michael V. Gazzo), thinks they're his guys, as all his strippers come from their agency. If only he could pay them on time.
 

 

Collecting their weekly commission might be the primary reason they showed up at Mike's club this evening. But judging by the preoccupied look on his face, it's clear Matt's mind is elsewhere. He's thinking about Loretta. You see, the two used to date, and from where I was sitting, they were going at it like bunny rabbits. When their attempt pick up the earnings goes nowhere, Matt decides to pay Loretta a visit in her dressing room. Only problem is, a fellow stripper named Leila (Rae Dawn Chong) has gotten there first; he catches them making out. Leaving in a huff, Matt grouses about what he saw to Nicky, who basically tells him to forget about her.
 

 

It's a good thing Matt has a friend like Nicky he can lean on for support. But more importantly, the actor who plays Nicky, Jack Scalia, also does an excellent job of placating Tom Berenger's non-Italian-ness. I'm serious, if Jack Scalia wasn't in this movie, I wouldn't have bought Tom Berenger as an Italian-American ex-boxer haunted by his past for a second.
 

 

As Loretta is finishing up her performance, and believe me, it's a performance (the crowd reacts to her like she's a disco star), another stripper, Honey (Ola Ray), is dragged into a nearby alleyway by an unknown assailant; who stabs her repeatedly and cuts some of her fingers off.
 

 

Surprisingly, Matt and Nicky are the first to visit her in the hospital. Maybe I was a little harsh on them when I called them pimps. Sure, you could say they're just worried about their property. But they seemed genuinely concerned about her well-being. And I don't know any pimps who can pull off the genuinely concerned routine. In fact, Honey's trauma causes Matt to reflect on an incident that occurred when he was a boxer. In order to help us understand where he's coming from, a flashback sequence is implemented that details the time when Matt killed a fellow boxer in the ring.
 

 

"Get her ass off the bar." And with that line, Billy Dee Williams makes his presence felt in the Fear City universe. Walking into the Metropolitan A Go-Go, a seedy strip club with a wonderfully sleazy atmosphere (much sleazier than Mike's establishment), Billy Dee's Det. Al Wheeler is there to bust Matt's balls and to hurl anti-Italian ethnophaulisms. Getting back to the club for a second. It's true, the waitresses can't seem to get your drink order right (what part of the phrase "no ice" do you not understand?), but the joint is crawling with the right kind of scuzziness. The club's owner, Frank (Joe Santos), a scumbag who loves his new JVC speakers, tries to confront Al Wheeler, who's getting all up it Matt's grill. Big mistake. A visibly annoyed Frank tries to interrupt Al's "conversation" with Matt, to which Al responds, "Am I talking to you, wop?" Frank answers his question with a question of his own, "Then who the hell are you talking to? Al, without missing a beat, says, "I'm not talking to you." It's a great exchange. As it not only does it expose Al's over the top dislike for Italians, but also shows that the people who work in the strip club world don't much care for the cops either.
 

 

The linguistically aware will notice that Al Wheeler has used to words, "wop," "dago," "cesspool," and "greaseball" (a slur he uses twice) during his time at Frank's club. The word "guinea" is uttered, but he unleashes that hateful chestnut later on in the film: "There's nothing I hate more than guineas in Cadillacs."
 

 

With animosity between the victims and the police at at all-time high, it's no wonder the "New York Knifer" (as the local press dub him) seems to have been given free reign to do whatever he pleases. Played by John Foster (though, there's been much discussion about the actual identity of the actor of who plays the killer), the New York  Knifer attacks strippers who look like Rae Dawn Chong (subway platform), Maria Conchita Alonso (apartment), Janet Julian (sidewalk) and Get Crazy's Lori Eastside (the park). If you want to know why the New York Knifer is stabbing his way through the stripper community, look no further than the pages of his manifesto, which, of course, is titled "Fear City." 
 

 

If I had to pinpoint a single moment in Fear City that encapsulates the film's overall appeal, I'd have to say the scene where a heroin-addicted Melanie Griffith enters Metropolitan A Go-Go looking to score some quick cash does the job. Standing in sunglasses in front of a wall of lights that spell out the word "girls" over and over again, Melanie is, in that moment, the poster girl for urban desperation. A state that Abel Fererra manages to capture multiple times over the course the film, but no more so when Melanie is jonesing for a fix. The other thing that made Fear City stand out was the fact that the strippers stopped going to work when the killer started chopping off their heads. I can't tell you how many films of this type that feature clueless characters who continue going about their daily routine despite the fact that there's a killer on the loose. In other words, I appreciated it when they showed the clubs were practically empty.

video uploaded by NiceActorLikeYou