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.

Radioactive Dreams (Albert Pyun, 1985)

If you have ever wondered what goes on beyond that imposing vault-like door that keeps the fallout at bay in Café Flesh, look no further than Albert Pyun's Radioactive Dreams, as I feel this film is the only film to truly capture what life must be like if the apocalypse really happened. I've said it once and I'll say it again, I'm tired of seeing the apocalypse depicted as a negative in popular culture. Sure, lot's of people will probably end up dying, some horribly. But with fire and brimstone comes endless fashion opportunities. No longer shackled by the frightfully lame rules and regulations that dictate what is acceptable to wear in public, the apocalypse is best time to let your fashion freak flag fly. Let's say you want to start an all-girl motorcycle gang who wear red wigs, black leather jackets and Nina Hagen-style makeup. But your husband won't let you. He wants you to drive little Tyler to soccer practice instead. Well, thanks to the apocalypse, your husband and little Tyler have both been vaporized. Meaning, you can start that all-girl motorcycle gang you've always wanted to without having to worry about nagging husbands or stupid ass children and their equally stupid ass needs. If that example didn't get my point across, how about this one: You're a charismatic singer with a powerful voice, yet the only place that will allow you to sing in front of an audience are those cringe-inducing reality shows that seem to be popping up all over the place nowadays (and by "nowadays," I mean, 2004).
  

  
I know, you're thinking to yourself: If the apocalypse comes, won't it wipe out most of my audience along with the deluded judges and annoying hosts? Yes, a sizeable chunk of your audience will probably end up dying, some horribly. But you know who enjoys post-nuke new wave punk rock with a splash of heavy metal? That's right, the red wig-wearing members of a newly formed all-girl motorcycle gang.
  

  
The reason I mentioned the leader of the all-girl motorcycle gang and the so-called "punk district singer" before the two male protagonists is because that's the way I do things. Deal with it. No, seriously, the reason has a lot to do with another thing the apocalypse has in its favour. And that is, there's room to move as a woman in the apocalypse. No longer constrained by societies socially accepted gender roles, women and men are to free to explore their true potential as human beings.
  

  
It's true, there's more wiggle room in the apocalypse for women to stretch their muscles. But not all women will approach this newfound freedom in a positive way. In fact, some will start behaving like certain men did in the pre-apocalypse world. Embracing attributes such as greed and employing chicanerous (deplorable, I know) tactics, there are two women in this film (not the all-girl bike gang leader or the punk district singer) whose behaviour will shock and appall  those of you who are not used to seeing women acting all duplicitous and junk, especially when you find out what it is they're trying to acquire throughout this film.
  

  
If you can believe this, Miles Archer (Lisa Blount) and Rusty Mars (Michele Little) are both pursuing a set of keys—and not just any set of keys, these keys unlock the firing mechanism to the last known nuclear missile on Earth (all expect one were launched back in 1986). As you would expect, these keys give the owner a great deal of power.
  

  
In an embarrassing twist, Miles Archer did have the keys at one point, but ended up losing them while trying to humiliate some dick named Marlowe Hammer. (Marlowe Hammer? That sounds like the name of a character from a 1940s detective novel.) It's funny you should mention that, as Marlowe Hammer (Michael Dudikoff) and his pal Phillip Chandler (John Stockwell) both grew up in a bomb shelter with nothing but 1940s detective novels and other relics from that decade (jazz records and argyle socks).
  

  
Left, or, I should say, locked, in the shelter by their fathers, Dash Hammer (George Kennedy) and Spade Chandler (Don Murray), in 1986 as children, Marlowe and Phillip are forced to fend for themselves.
  

  
When they finally do manage to escape from the shelter some fifteen years later, Marlowe and Phillip are ready to face a world populated by radiation-scarred punks, disco mutants, all-girl bike gangs, cannibals, greasers, hippies, and, worst of all, a couple of shrewd women named Miles and Rusty.
  

  
Actually, now that I look over that list again, I don't think Marlowe and Phillip are properly equipped to deal with this world. I mean, look at 'em. How are two socially inept dweebs (a couple of real "mondo nerds") who fancy themselves as private detectives going to survive in a post-apocalyptic netherworld that is filled to the brim with people/creatures (designed by the Chiodo Brothers, no less) that want to straight-up kill their asses?
  

  
Take the leader of the all-girl bike gang, played by the always alluring Hilary Shepard, for example. After jumping on the hood of his car Road Warrior-style and licking the entirety of his face, Hilary Shepard totally tries to murder Phillip. To be fair, though, Marlowe and Phillip do have the keys at this point (Miles accidentally dropped them in Marlowe's lap - I know, what an idiot). So, it makes sense for the all-girl bike gang to want kill them. Of course, Marlowe and Phillip have no idea how important the keys are. But they will soon enough.
  

  
However, before they do find out, Marlowe must unleash at least twelve groan-worthy puns that revolve around the word "dick." We get it, Marlowe. Dick means private detective and it means penis, too. I don't know 'bout you, but I wanted to beat some sense into Marlowe, as his wide-eyed, aw-shucks attitude is driving me insane.
  

  
After hooking up with Rusty Mars (she survived a roadside ambush by a couple of disco mutants - including Demian "Two Dollars" Slade), Marlowe and Phillip arrive at the Red Onion, a "swanky gin mill" just outside of Edge City, where the former is [thankfully] slapped around by some of the bar's female patrons.
  

  
Burned by Miles, you would think they would be wary of attractive women who sport headbands. Wrong! Marlowe and Phillip end up getting double-crossed by Rusty, as well, who sells them out to a gang of cannibalistic creepozoids.
  

  
Unlike Miles, though, Rusty feels guilty about what she did. Unfortunately, Marlowe and Phillip are in no mood for apologies, as the experiences of the last twenty-four hours have seemingly turned a couple of naive dicks into a couple of hard dicks over night. Meaning, when an Uzi-wielding Rusty shows up to help Marlowe and Phillip, they rebuff her offer of assistance with extreme prejudice.
  

  
The fact we never get to see Rusty fire that Uzi is a crime. And that it pretty much sums up how I feel about this movie. It's get the set up right, it's just that it always seems to botch the follow through. The costumes, the music, the makeup, the sets, and the overall look of the film is top-notch. But the story, despite having an amazing concept, is a tad lacking in the compelling department. And I didn't buy for a second that Marlowe, one of the most irritating film characters in recent memory, would become a badass in the blink of an eye (once a mondo nerd, always a mondo nerd).
  

  
The only scenes I would recommend watching are the one's that feature Hilary Shepard's red-wigged bike gang and the scene where Sue Saad sings "Guilty Pleasures" for a crowd of Edge City punks and freaks.