The Spirit of '76 (Lucas Reiner, 1990)

Given that this film is saturated with references to the founding of the United States of America, I thought I was going to be completely lost when it came time to decipher it as a piece of filmed entertainment. Then it dawned me, I know a shitload, maybe even a fuckload (if such a load actually exists), about America. You could even say that I know more about America than most Americans. Sure, I couldn't recite the Pledge of Allegiance if you held a registered hand gun to my head and I'm a firm believer in three down football, but I can name all the state capitals and I know the names of at least half the presidents. Hell, I even remember watching Schoolhouse Rock! as a kid. In other words, my foreign ass totally knows how a bill becomes a law. Thankfully, having knowledge of any kind floating around in your head is completely unnecessary when it comes to enjoying The Spirit of '76, the righteously groovy slice of nepotism a go-go that's been endorsed by Devo. All you need to know is that the United States Constitution is a very important document and you should be good to go. (I thought you said the film was, and I quote, "saturated with references to the founding of the United States of America.") Nah, I didn't mean that. I was just trying to scare you. The film's message can actually be applied to almost any country that feels like it's lost its way. To be honest, I'm way more interested in the love triangle that forms between Olivia D'Abo, David Cassidy and Leif Garrett. (Hold up. You mean to tell me that while you were boring us about your supposed knowledge of American history and culture, that you could have been talking about a love triangle between Olivia D'Abo, David Cassidy and Leif Garrett?!?) I guess.

(Do you know how rare this is?) How rare what is? (Think about it. Year after year, we see the same stupid faces, acting in the same stupid movies.) I don't understand. (Remember that brief period of time when Kate Hudson–speaking of nepotism a go-go–was in every other movie?) Yeah. (Well, that's what I'm getting that. It's the same people appearing over and over again. Okay, now how many movies are there that star both David Cassidy and Leif Garrett?) I don't know, how many? (Zero!) Are you sure? You might want to double check that. (No way, man, I don't need to. I'm confident when I say The Spirit of '76 is the only film with the guts to cast David Cassidy and Leif Garrett as its leads.)

I don't want to cause you to spill maple syrup all over your maxi-pads, but don't they suck? (Oh my God! I can't believe you just said that. No, they don't suck. If anything, they're complete opposite of something that sucks.) You mean they rule? (Yeah, they kinda do...rule, that is. You heard right, David Cassidy and Leif Garrett rule in this movie. And they totally almost come to blows over the gorgeous Olivia D'Abo, the actress who first won us over in Flying, the second greatest leotard-centric movie to come out of the Great White North during the 1980s; the greatest being, of course, Heavenly Bodies.)

Hey, get your head out of the 1980s, this film, written and directed by Lucas Reiner, is all about celebrating the 1970s. (Are you sure about that? I mean, the decade is mocked pretty hard in this film.) That's true, there's quite a lot of mocking going on. But if you look at the film's final scene, it's clear that the mockery comes from a place of love. You could even view the film as confirmation that the decade was the nation's cultural nadir, and that if the country doesn't get back to the fun-loving and frivolous ways that defined the decade, it could find itself turning into the drab, colourless landscape that it becomes in the year 2176.

You know how nothing is hardly even written down on paper anymore? Well, that decision, according this film, is going to bite humanity in the ass in a big way. You see, when a magnetic storm wipes out all the computers, history, specifically, the history of United States of America, ceases to exist.

Members of The Ministry of Knowledge, who are, of course, played by Devo, want to repair the damage the magnetic storm caused by piecing together the fabric of America. Turning to Dr. Von Mobil (Carl Reiner), one of the last Americans who remembers what the country was like before the magnetic storm wiped everything out, Devo, mostly Mark Mothersbaugh and Gerald V. Casale, ask him for his advice on how to re-build the nation; it has become a grey, ashy place devoid of joy.

If you wanna fix America, you're going to have to start at the beginning. And according to what I have gleamed from American television over the years, it began on July 4, 1776.

The Ministry of Knowledge, along with Heinz-57 (Geoff Hoyle), who runs the sector of psycho-historical inquiries, and Chanel-6 (Olivia D'Abo), the nation's foremost epistemological anthro-sociologist, offer Adam-11 (David Cassidy), the inventor of a time machine, as much tetrahydrozoline-6 (the stuff that makes his time machine run) as he wants, if he agrees to take Heinz-57 and Chanel-6 back to 1776. Since he's only interested in visiting "Ikiki Beach" (the "wa" on the Waikiki post card he carries around with him are missing - anything with printing on it is cherished in 2176), he declines their offer.

Of course, I forgot to mention that he didn't know Olivia D'Abo would be going with him. And let's just say, his attitude regarding the mission changes greatly once he learns that he will be stuck in a cramped time machine with Olivia D'Abo for who knows how long.

Setting the coordinates to 1776, Adam-11, Heinz-57 and Chanel-6 should be hanging out with George Washington and Button Gwinnett in no time.

(Call me crazy, but I don't think any of the Founding Fathers looked like the guys from Redd Kross.) Oh, I don't know, put a powdered wig on them and give them some buckled footwear, and I'm sure they could pull it off. (Um, hello, I don't think Thomas Jefferson rode a banana chopper four with quarter spokes and full knobbies. And he definitely didn't have a Gene Simmons patch sewn on the crotch of his pants.) Actually, the patch was adjacent to his crotch, it wasn't actually on it. (Whatever, it's clearly not 1776.)

The year is '76, but just not the one they expected. Something must have went wrong with the time machine. It doesn't matter, 'cause, funny thing, Adam-11, Heinz-57 and Chanel-6 still seem to think that it's 1776. We know it's 1976, but to them, it's acceptable to think that people wore tube tops, listened to Grand Funk Railroad, and drove yellow AMC Pacers back in 1776; they have no frame of reference.

(Speaking of tube tops, when are you going to get around to talking about Moon Unit Zappa? After all, she's the real reason you watched this film in the first place, isn't it?) No, I watched it because I was interested in the subject matter. What can I say? I've always been fascinated by time travel and American history. (What can you say?!? It sounds like what you "can say" is a steaming pile of horseshit.)

(Word on the street is that your obsession with all things Moon Unit Zappa has become so pronounced, that you can't even think straight.)

Okay, you're right, I am obsessed. But can you blame me? I mean, look at her. Her beauty is, like, transcendental and junk.

Anyway, let me get this out of the way before I continue down this path. When Adam-11, Heinz-57 and Chanel-6 arrive in 1976, they're greeted by Chris Johnson (Jeffrey McDonald) and Tommy Sears (Steve Johnson), two best buds who use the sight of Moon Unit Zappa in a tube top as beat-off material. Keen to help the wayward newcomers, Chris and Tommy agree to hide Adam-11's time ship at their "crash pad" - you know, keep it from the prying eyes of a couple of C.I.A. agents (played by The Kipper Kids) and Rodney Snodgrass (Liam O'Brien), an obnoxious pustule who would look great in drag (his bone structure practically screams fabulous).

Now that we got that out of the way, let's head to "Planet Earth," a local clothing store, to get Adan-11, Heinz-57 and Chanel-6 some new duds, 'cause the colour grey has no place in 1976. And guess who works at "Planet Earth"? You guessed it, Moon Unit Zappa!

Reading "Future Shock" by Alvin Toffler when the time travelers enter the store, Cheryl Dickman (Moon Unit Zappa)... (Hey, wait a second, if grey has no place in 1976, why is Cheryl Dickman's tube top grey? Answer that, smart guy.) Are you sure it isn't silver? (Are you kidding?) Whatever, man, Moon Unit Zappa is, like, wearing a tube top and a pair of super-short jean shorts. (Yeah, you're right.) So, where was I? Oh, yeah, Cheryl Dickman notices Adam-11 looking at shirts.

Asking if Adam-11 if he needs any help, Cheryl Dickman, making sure he catches a glimpse of her stunning calves as she approaches him, uses the old "my mood ring totally changed colours" trick to break the ice.

It obviously worked, as Adam-11 is hanging on her every word, even as she rambles semi-coherently about astrology.

The biggest tragedy about The Spirit of '76 is that Cheryl Dickman tells Adam-11 that she will see him later, but she totally doesn't. (Totally doesn't what?) She totally doesn't see him later. (Meaning?) Meaning, that's it as far as Moon Unit Zappa goes in this movie. (You must have been totally crestfallen.) You bet your ass I was totally crestfallen. I was also totally depressed, totally dejected, totally despondent, totally downcast and totally dispirited. In other words... No, wait, other words won't be necessary, as I think I totally just used all of them.

The second biggest tragedy is that Eddie Trojan (Leif Garrett) doesn't score with Chanel-6. (Who the fuck is Eddie Trojan?!?) Um, he's Eddie Trojan, a.k.a. The Bonemaster. Duh, where have you been? (Doesn't he, at one point, prevent Tommy Chong from dipping his cannabis-stained dick in some free range D'Abo pussy at Hocus Smokus?) Yeah, so? (I'm just saying.) Either way, I thought Leif Garrett and Olivia D'Abo had great chemistry together.

While Eddie Trojan is desperately trying to get inside Chanel-6's tight, lacey, purple pants, Heinz-57 receives a history lesson from Ms. Liberty (Julie Brown), a peepshow stripper/constitutional scholar in red stockings and red opera gloves, attends a self-help seminar being given by Rob Reiner (his way of helping people seems limited to calling them assholes), and gets in a heated argument with a large man waiting in line to buy gas.

In case you're wondering what Adam-11 is getting up to while all this is going on, he's hanging out with Red Kross at their crash pad. Nooice. No, seriously, it's pretty sweet. The art direction, the use of bright colours, the juvenile humour, the costumes (by a teenage Sofia Coppola), the music (every crappy/awesome '70s song you can imagine is featured on the soundtrack), Moon Unit Zappa in a tube top, everything about this movie is agreeable. Sure, I thought Eddie Trojan got shafted, but, in a way, Eddie Trojan, and 1976 in general, help save the future. I wouldn't be surprised if they put Eddie Trojan's face on Mount Rushmore in the year 2176. Don't tell anyone this, but if I could ovulate, I would totally have Eddie Trojan's baby.

While I didn't tear up during the final scene, I did catch myself trying to prevent a sly smirk from appearing on my face on several occasions. And you know what they say? Self-stylized sly smirk obstruction is the highest form of flattery.

Lovedolls Superstar (David Markey, 1986)

How do you go about making a sequel to an underground classic when most of the principal characters from the original were murdered? Well, according to David Markey, the writer-director-producer-editor of Lovedolls Superstar, his epic follow up to Desperate Teenage Lovedolls, all you need is a long lost hippie twin brother, a Ritz-cracker eating socialite bent on revenge, a demented Lovedolls super-fan, a brunette ghost, and you should be good to go. When I use to word "epic" to describe this film, I ain't kidding around. Sure, it contains all the drug use, violence, gore, music, and, not to mention, the multiple shots of Jennifer Schwartz's surprisingly shapely legs sheathed in colourful tights we've come to expect from The Lovedolls franchise. But this chapter seems determined to outdo its predecessor. First things first, they definitely had more money to work with this time around. Granted, it's still not a lot, especially when compared to other low budget movies. But that being said, all you have to do is take one look at the artists who contribute songs to the soundtrack (Sonic Youth, Meat Puppets, Dead Kennedys) to realize there's something different in the air. Mocking the music industry (a record company executive is brutally murdered by a mob in a scene straight out of an Italian cannibal movie), crazy religious cults, Bruce Springsteen/Rick Springfield, flower children, feminist television hosts, and celebrity culture, the film, while retaining the campy tone that made part one so enjoyable, has a developed a bit of a satirical edge since we last tuned in.
 

 

While all those topics and subjects are ridiculed to maximum effect, it's crazy religious cults that get skewered the most in the early going. You won't believe this, but Patch Kelly (Janet Housden) is now "Patch Christ," the not-so charismatic leader of a group of mindless followers. I know, you're asking yourself, who's this Patch Kelly/Patch Christ person? If you recall, she was the drummer of The Lovedolls who killed Kitty Carryall's mother; Kitty Carryall (the sexy Jennifer Schwartz) is, of course, the charismatic leader of The Lovedolls who fell on hard times at the end of Desperate Teenage Lovedolls. Anyway, most people will agree that Patch Kelly wasn't much a factor in the first film; okay, to be blunt, she was barely in it.
 

 

She might not have been memorable in the first flick, but Patch Kelly/Patch Christ is the reason Kitty Carryall is able to extricate herself from the Venice day spa she is currently wallowing in. And, no, being in a "Venice day spa" isn't as nice as it sounds; Kitty Carryall was ankle deep in sewer water when Patch and her gang of thieving juvenile delinquents happen upon her (she was giving herself an e. coli mud facial).
 

 

Made up of ex-fans of The Lovedolls, the cult steal, and sometimes kill, for Patch Kelly, who can pretty much make them do anything her heart desires. After hearing The Lovedolls on the radio, Kitty, who has since taken a shower (I dug the pink ribbon she wore in her hair to signify her newfound cleanliness), and Patch decide to put the band back together. Only problem being, they don't have a guitar player. If you recall, Bunny Tremelo (Hilary Rubens) met with an "unfortunate accident" at the end of Desperate Teenage Lovedolls.
 

 

While wandering the streets of Hollywood, Kitty and Patch bump into Alexandria (Kim Pilkington), the blonde junkie whose heroin habit hampered her attempt to become a rock star in the first film; remember kids, if you're going to develop a trendy heroin habit, wait until your rich and famous first. Working as a hooker with her red beret-wearing friend Shabu (Cheri Land), under the watchful eye of their pimp, Slick (Jordan Schwartz), Kitty and Patch convince Alexandria to drop the "trashy whore" routine and join the band as their guitar player.
 

 

Just because Johnny Tremaine (their former manager) and Tanya Hearst (leader of the She-Devils) aren't around anymore to hassle The Lovedolls, doesn't mean that outside forces are not conspiring against them. You wouldn't think it by looking at him, but Johnny Tremaine's twin brother Rainbow (Steve McDonald) is about to become The Lovedolls' primary nemesis. Living on a New Mexico commune called "The Freedom School" with a bunch of hippies (including Vickie Peterson from The Bangles), Rainbow decides to visit L.A. to see what his brother is up to (he has no idea he's dead).
 

 

Actually, Rainbow Tremaine is pretty harmless compared to what Patricia Anne Cloverfield (Tracy Marshak-Nash, a.k.a. Tracy Lea) has in store for The Lovedolls. Landing at LAX, Patricia, we soon find out, is Tanya Heart's mother. And if you're wondering why Patricia, who is sitting crossed-legged, suddenly stops eating her Ritz crackers, it's because she just found out her daughter was killed by The Lovedolls.
 

 

If that wasn't enough trouble for The Lovedolls, we're introduced to Carl Celery (Jeffrey McDonald), an obsessed fan of the group. If he's so into The Lovedolls, he should join their cult. Why should he? When Kitty Carryall visits him and instructs him to murder Bruce Springsteen. Don't worry, Kitty Carryall is not really making appearances in his squalid hellhole masquerading as a home, Carl is delusional.
 

 

Let's recap: The upstart band have not one, not two, but three antagonists to deal with in this chapter of The Lovedolls saga. And it would seem that Bruce Springsteen has an antagonist as well.  
 

 

It's a good thing The Lovedolls have a cult to back them up this time around. And they come in handy almost immediately when The Lovedolls go up against a sleazy (which should go without saying) record exec named Slim Crowley (Bob Moss). Instead of simply leaving his office after being rejected (he basically calls them has-beens), The Lovedolls sick their cult on him. That doesn't sound so bad. He was roughed up in the parking lot to the music of Sonic Youth, big deal. Roughed up? They stomp his guts out and drink his blood. So, yeah. You better cancel his ten o'clock with Madonna, he ain't gonna make it.
 

 

After only being in L.A. five seconds, Rainbow Tremaine (he should get together with Rainbow Harvest from Mirror Mirror fame - you know, because they have the same first name) is already feeling the effects of the city's corrupting influence (the flowers in this town are soaked in pesticide and the granola is chock-full of  artificial flavours). And not only that, a newspaper boy (Robert Wecker) informs Rainbow that his brother is dead, and tells him that The Lovedolls were the one's responsible. Meanwhile, Patricia Anne Cloverfield has bought herself a gun and has formed an alliance with Matt (Mike Glass), Tanya's boyfriend, and Switchblade Suzy (Annette Zilinskas), a disgruntled She-Devil.
 

 

Possessed by the spirit of Gene Simmons, Carl Celery, wearing the appropriate makeup, shows up at a Bruce Springsteen concert carrying the gun given to him by Kitty Carryall. Hey, check out the Courtney Cox (Modi Frank) wannabe in the front row (she sort of looks like Bunny Tremelo). At any rate, as Bruce (Jordan Schwartz) is finishing up an lyrically altered version of "Dancing in the Dark," Carl rushes the stage.
 

 

Speaking of people who sort of look like Bunny Tremelo, the ghost of Bunny Tremelo (complete with Linda Blair from The Exorcist sleepwear) appears in Kitty Carryall's bedroom. Warning her about the dark forces that are out to get her, the ghost of Bunny Tremelo gives Kitty the skinny on all the threats that are currently manifesting themselves against her.
 

 

Whether she takes heed or not is anyone's guess. In the meantime, Kitty and Patch appear on Women On Women, a feminist talk show hosted by Gloria Biaz (Carmel Moran). The great thing about this sequence, besides the fact that Kitty and Patch fail to live up to Gloria's idea of what a feminist should look like, was Kitty Carryall's crossed legs sheathed in red tights. In addition to looking fabulous on her, the red tights are good indication that The Lovedolls are well on their way. Remember what I said in my review of Desperate Teenage Lovedolls? You don't? Well, let me repeat it: Colourful tights = success. You could also add: Crimped hair = success to the equation, as the more successful The Lovedolls become, the more crimps seem to appear in Kitty Carryall's hair.
 

 

In the coming scenes, Jennifer Schwartz can be seen in blue, footless tights (she wears them during her confrontation with Mrs. Cloverfield), a one piece bathing suit with Argentine theme (it reminded me of the flag of Argentina) with matching blue shades (she wears both during her pool side confrontation with Carl Celery), and a purple feather boa (which she wears during The Lovedolls show at the forum).  
 

 

You'll notice I didn't mention Kitty Carryall's confrontation with Rainbow Tremaine during my Kitty Carryall fashion round up. Well, let me just say two words: Suicidal Tendencies. Oh, and my favourite Rainbow-ism uttered during this period was: "I have become semi-rebellious!" And it's no wonder, the city of Los Angeles. is no place for wide-eyed idealists, it warps your soul.
 

 

Just like the first film, Lovedolls Superstar was shot on super-8. However, the sequel has a more polished sheen to it. Yet, the film has somehow managed to retain its gritty aesthetic. Depicting Hollywood as the cesspool that it probably is, Dave Markey (best known for, I guess, directing 1991: The Year Punk Broke) has made farcical romp that ridicules the city, while, at same time, celebrates its many quirks. My only complaint would be that Kitty Carryall doesn't get a love interest in either film. Call me a romantic sap, but I wanna see Kitty's luscious thigh's gingerly groped by a tattooed gentlemen caller whilst in the throes of consensual, Patti Smith-approved passion.

 

video uploaded by Dave Markey

Desperate Teenage Lovedolls (David Markey, 1984)

In order to get in the mood to write about Desperate Teenage Lovedolls (word on the street is, the film was originally titled "Desperate Teenage Runaways," but Kim Fowley, former manager of The Runaways, threatened to sue), I've been listening to "Survive" by The Bags on repeat (and by "repeat," I mean two times in a row). Okay, before you say, "aren't you special," the song is featured in the movie; just in case you were wondering why I was randomly namedropping this classic slab of L.A. punk rock. In all honesty, what I'm really trying to do is summon my inner punk. And, yes, I have an inner punk; his name is Steve, he likes the Suburban Lawns, eats nothing but Doritos® Fromage Mordant, wants to perform cunnilingus on Sharon Mitchell in the worst possible way, and spends most of his time sniffing glue underneath the Santa Monica Pier. The reason you initially doubted whether or not I had an inner punk was probably because I rarely ever need to tap into him. In fact, the only time I ever seem to require his services is when I'm watching Repo Man; which is something I try to do at least once year ("Ordinary fucking people. I hate 'em"). In other words, Steve's not a big part of my life. However, I needed him desperately (no pun intended) when it came time to watch this micro-budget tribute to the L.A. punk scene (the only punk scene I subscribe to). And after listening to "Survive" by The Bags multiple times, I feel like I'm ready to delve into this gritty, shot on super-8, cult, trash, camp masterpiece.
 

 

It's a good thing I did, because I was immediately put off by the lack of synthesizers on the soundtrack; I kept telling myself: "Relax, man. Not every film can have synthesizers." Nevertheless, the film does use the music of SPK to punch up the drug trip gone awry scene. And, as most people know, SPK are one of the few bands that can be truly call themselves "industrial" (most so-called "industrial" bands make house music with distorted vocals slapped over top of it - not that there's anything wrong with that).
 

 

Reminding me of Ladies and Gentlemen - The Fabulous Stains, Breaking Glass, and Smithereens (films that sport ambitious female characters who crave fame and fortune, but quickly find out that both are not all that they're cracked up to be), Desperate Teenage Lovedolls, written and directed by David Markey (founder of the punk zine We Got Power! - I'm a wealth of information today), tells the tale of The Lovedolls, an all-girl punk band who become unwitting victim's of their own success.
 

 

When two long lost friends, the leggy Kitty Carryall (Jennifer Schwartz) and the exceedingly brunette Bunny Tremelo (Hilary Rubens), reunite at a bus station in Venice, California, they both agree that now is the perfect time to put The Lovedolls back together.
 

 

Even though it's still early, I'm having no trouble whatsoever picturing the members of Sleater-Kinney and Bikini Kill watching Desperate Teenage Lovedolls on their respective tour buses.
 

 

The third member of The Lovedolls, it turns out, is locked up in a mental hospital. Which, surprisingly, isn't going to be that big a problem, as Alexandra (Kim Pilkington) is planning her escape as we speak. Smashing her guitar over the head of her doctor (Jordan Schwartz), Alexandra makes a run for it.
 

 

Meanwhile, out in suburbia (our trip to the burbs is accompanied by a cheeky music cue taken directly from The Brady Bunch), Kitty, who is wearing a kick ass green sweater dress (if you don't think sweater dresses can kick ass - well, they totally can), and Bunny are rehearsing. When Kitty's mom (Jordan Schwartz) starts hassling her, Bunny decides to bail. Chilling in her room, showing off her amazing legs (which are tastefully encased in a pair of light purple pantyhose), Kitty is shocked to find Alexandra hiding under some blankets.
 

 

After telling her mom to "go fuck herself," Kitty and Alexandra leave in a huff. Well, actually, Kitty does the majority of the huffing during their exit. What I should said was, after hurling a series of fuck-based insults in the general direction of her mother, Kitty, along with Alexandra, leaves in a huff. I guess that's better. Either way, Kitty is now a teenage runaway.
 

 

While hitchhiking with Alexandra, you'll notice that Kitty is now wearing black pantyhose. Granted, you'll have pause the movie in order to properly appreciate the magnitude of the hosiery change. But trust me, her light purple pantyhose have been replaced by a pair of jet black pantyhose.
 

 

If you don't believe me, watch the outtakes. In them, you'll come across an extended version of the hitchhiking scene. And in this extended version you will clearly see that the shapely stems jutting out from the bottom half of Jennifer Schwartz's kick ass green sweater dress have been lovingly re-poured into a pair of super-tight, jet black pantyhose. To make matters even more titillating, there's a run in her hose (a long run that starts on her left thigh and goes all the way down to her knee).
 

 

You think that's titillating? Wait until you see the part where Jennifer Schwartz tells Kim Pilkingston to stop wasting her time using her thumbs to hitch a ride and proceeds to lift up the bottom of her kick ass green sweater dress to reveal even more pantyhose-ensnared leg. They're going to be mopping you off the floor.
 

 

And get this, she actually says, "The thumb trick doesn't work, but the pantyhose does," while hiking up her kick ass green sweater dress. Now, the only reason I think of as to why this scene didn't make it into the final version of the film was because of bad pantyhose continuity. Like I said, Kitty Carryall is wearing light purple pantyhose when she leaves in that huff I mentioned earlier, and seconds later, she is wearing jet  black pantyhose. People who leave in huffs don't usually have time to change their pantyhose. If she had left in say, a casual and relaxed manner, then I would have bought the pantyhose change. But not in a huff. It doesn't pass pantyhose muster.
 

 

Which is a shame, really. Because there's nothing sexier than a leggy woman, or in this case, a leggy teenage runaway, who knows how to harness the power of her shapely stems.
 

 

Most people when talking about Desperate Teenage Lovedolls seem to go on and on about the controversial scene where Kim Pilkington shoots heroin...for realz. Yet, here I am, rambling, semi-coherently, about, what is basically, a deleted scene. Oh, well.
 

 

As expected, Alexandra's drug habit prevents her from becoming a Lovedoll (you're supposed to develop a debilitating drug habit after you become famous, not before). Nonetheless, that doesn't stop Kitty, who hits the streets in search of a new drummer. Running into Patch Kelly (Janet Housden) while putting up flyers, Kitty asks her to join the band. Of course, not before thanking her for killing her mother. Here's a sample of the dialogue heard during Kitty and Patch's first meeting: Kitty Carryall: "Thanks for killing my mother." Patch Kelly: "No problem."
 

 

After stealing a guitar from some homeless guy in an afro wig, The Lovedolls soon find themselves on the road to superstardom. Only problem being, their manager, Johnny Tremaine (the amazing Steve McDonald from Redd Kross), is a bit of a scumbag (he rapes Bunny, puts Boy George on hold, and thinks a Beatles reunion with Kevin DuBrow from Quiet Riot as John Lennon's replacement is a good idea). And, oh, yeah, there's this all-girl gang called the She-Devils who are still pissed over the fact that Kitty killed their leader, Tanya Hearst (Tracy Marshak-Nash), with a switchblade during a violent confrontation on a Venice beach.
 

 

You could tell that Kitty and Bunny had finally "made it" just by looking at colour of their tights (colourful tights = success). Lounging around their mansion in Brentwood, Kitty, whose legs are fashionably sheathed in purple tights, and Bunny, who's rocking a pair of pink tights, have a contented air about them. However, as anyone who has ever watched a movie like this before knows, it all could fall apart at any moment. Meaning, the hottest band on the planet could be washed up in a matter of months. Scratch that, they could be washed up in a matter of days.
 

 

Despite its extreme low budget (the film purportedly cost around 350 dollars to make), Desperate Teenage Lovedolls manages to overcome its financial difficulties by fully embracing the D.I.Y. spirit of the L.A. punk scene. Boasting a campy edge (Steve McDonald's drug trip while wearing blue spandex trousers and his talk back while watching Dawn: Portrait of a Teenage Runaway are pure camp) and moments of violence (at least seven people are murdered in this film), the film isn't your typical tale of a couple of gals who go from the gutters of Venice to glamour of Beverly Hills. Uh-uh, it earns its status as a cult classic through sheer moxie and hard work.

video uploaded by Dave Markey