Party Line (William Webb, 1988)

Am I seeing things or did Shawn Weatherly's impeccable nylons just go from being jet black to tan in the middle of her confrontation with a demented, eye-liner-sporting Leif Garrett? I know for a fact that her stockings and/or pantyhose were black when the scene starts. So, how does one explain the fact that they seem to turn tan on a dime? Oh, hey, don't mind me. I just watched Party Line for the very first time and this nylon-based continuity error is occupying the bulk of my thought process at the moment. I wish it wasn't, as I had this hilarious diatribe about Leif Garrett (The Spirit of '76) in a wedding dress all ready to go. But Shawn Weatherly had to go and undercut it with one well-placed knee to the groin. Nonetheless, in the wide shots, it's obvious that Shawn Weatherly is wearing black nylons as she struggles with Leif Garrett on the balcony of his large Bel Air estate. However, when the director, William Webb (California Girls), goes in for a close-up, it would appear that Shawn Weatherly is wearing tan hosiery. At first I thought it was merely the lighting that was making her black nylons appear tan. But then it dawned on me, these are black stockings and/or pantyhose we're taking about. Meaning, there's no way their inherent blackness could be diminished by wonky lighting.

What I think happened was, the director decided that the balcony brawl between Shawn Weatherly and Leif Garrett needed more physicality. In order to achieve this, they brought in Shawn Weatherly, or maybe even a stunt performer, and shot the knee to groin sequence at a later date. And it looks like no one bothered to point out that Shawn Weatherly's gams are literally a different colour.

Now, did this nylon-based continuity error hamper my ability to enjoy this late 1980s masterpiece? Of course not. No, the fact that the movie is kind of crappy did the lion's share of the joy-related hampering. If anything, the nylon-based continuity error was a refreshing anomaly in an otherwise lifeless erotic thriller.

Truth be told, there are actually quite a few anomalies of a refreshing nature peppered throughout this motion picture. And, yes, one of them involves Leif Garrett being slapped around by his sister while wearing his dead mother's wedding dress.

While I could watch Leif Garrett get slapped in the face while wearing a wedding dress for hours, my favourite refreshing anomaly is when Karen Mayo-Chandler (Stripped to Kill II: Live Girls) clam-jams the living hell out of Patricia Patts' teenage pussy. Seriously, it's one of the most forceful clam-jams I've seen in a motion picture. Oh, and in case you don't know, "clam-jam" is when a woman prevents another woman from getting laid.

Well, Karen Mayo-Chandler's character in Party Line takes it one step further. In that, she doesn't just stop another woman from getting a guaranteed helping of cock, she steals the cock all for herself ("it's a competitive world"). Little does she know, there's no cock to steal, as the man attached to this cock has no intention of using it to penetrate either of them.

You see, the man and, I suppose, his cock, has an Oedipus complex. In other words, his cock is his mother's property. Unfortunately, Seth, played by the always excellent Leif Garrett, can't insert his cock into one of his mother's many orifices since she's dead. Not to fear, though, Seth's sister, Angelina (Greta Blackburn, Chained Heat), has stepped in to fill the void left by his deceased mother. And let's just say, it's a kinky scene, man.

Obeying her every whim, Angelina has Seth slit the throats of the married men she lures into her bed by using "Party Line," a phone sex service that acts as a sort of public dating forum for the city's perverts, freaks and bored babysitters. I told you it was a kinky scene... man.

When the bodies of married men of a certain age start piling up at the morgue, Richard Roundtree's Captain Barnes decides to pair a rule-breaking vice cop named Lt. Dan (Richard Hatch) with Stacy Sloan (Shawn Weatherly), a buttoned-up district attorney special investigator; or as Lt. Dan calls her, "some yuppie cop."

Since Lt. Dan can't go five seconds without breaking the rules, he's thrown off the case almost immediately. As for Stacy Sloan, she's suspended after refusing to have sex with her boss. Despite these roadblocks, Lt. Dan and Stacy Sloan manage to put aside their differences and work as a team.

At first I was annoyed by the sight of Shawn Weatherly in her conservative lawyer clothes. But then my stance softened somewhat when Miss Weatherly dons a tight red dress with jet black hose during the film's third act. Worn for the sole purpose of luring a shadowy killer out into the open, Lt. Dan thinks her equally killer curves will be no match for the mullet-sporting mama's boy.

Really, Dan? I think the chloroform-soaked rag currently pressing against Shawn Weatherly's mouth might beg to differ.

Upon further [unnecessary] inspection, it looks like they used a stunt performer for the close-up shot of Shawn Weatherly kneeing Leif Garrett in the nuts. How did I come to this conclusion? Well, for starters, you can clearly see that they're wearing a blonde wig. On top of that, the stunt performer's legs are, let's just say, not as shapely as Shawn's legs. What the hell, I'm just going to come out and say it, I think the legs belonged to a man.

Anyway, fans of Leif Garrett, nylon-based continuity error occurs, red Ferrari's, clam-jamming, workplace sexual misconduct, scrunchies, nightclub scenes and the late '80s in general will definitely want to watch this flick in the not-so distant future.

976-EVIL 2 (Jim Wynorski, 1992)

A lot of people have this misguided notion that the 1980s ended when the calendar flipped over to 1990. However, as 976-EVIL 2 (a.k.a. 976-EVIL 2: The Astral Factor) constantly points out, the spirit of the 1980s burned bright well into the '90s. The idea that the cultural temperament of a particular era changes overnight is ridiculous. Maybe in a 100 years these differences will seem unimportant. But to those of us who lived through these linear chunks of time, the differences are crucial to understanding who we are and where we stand in the world. I mean, for many of us, the instant women stopped using hairspray was a watershed moment. Yet, hairspray usage among women did not cease come January 1, 1990, and the wonderfully diminutive Debbie James in this Jim Wynorski-directed sequel to a movie that wasn't that great to begin with is proof of this. Even though her so-called "big hair" is mostly realized by sporting crispy bangs and employing scrunchies in a manner that help facilitate the illusion of follicle aggrandizement, there's still enough product in her hair to start a small brush fire.

You could say Debbie's hair is stuck in the '80s. But, if you think about it, she's just continuing to ride the style waves that were laid by her bimbo fore-mothers in the early days of the fingerless glove decade. It's true, the style wave eventually petered out. That being said, some people continued to ride this wave well into '90s.

Even so, big hair was finally killed the first time a woman entered a hair salon and asked for "The Rachel," the bouncy, square layered hairstyle Jennifer Aniston wore in the first couple of seasons of Friends. I hope you're happy, Jennifer Aniston, or, I should say, Jennifer Aniston's hairdresser, you murdered the 1980s. Granted, the decade, in terms of being a cultural force, was already on its last legs, but you put the final nail in the coffin.

Wow, judging by what I've typed so far, you wouldn't know this was a review for 976-EVIL 2. But trust me, it totally is.

In a surprise twist, I'm not going on and on about Debbie's hair because the movie is lacking in the not being lame department. Get this, the film is actually pretty good. No, no, no, here me out. Sure, the film is a sequel to the Robert Englund-directed horror flick about about a killer psychic hotline (one that prompts you to dial '666'), but I thought part two was kinda clever in places.

Am I crazy, or does Karen Mayo-Chandler's t-shirt get more skimpy as the opening scene progresses? Anyway, after taking a swim, college co-ed, Laurie Glazer (Karen Mayo-Chandler, Stripped to Kill II: Live Girls), is creeped out by weird noises while showering. Since investigating "weird noises" in a skimpy t-shirt and a towel is a tad awkward, Laurie slips on a pair of white panties.

No ordinary pair of white panties, mind you, Laurie's white panties are lacy in the back and smooth as satin in the front.

Once the white panties are pulled up as far as they will go, Mr. Grubeck (René Assa) decides to reveal himself to Laurie as the one responsible for making the weird noises. As expected, Laurie is freaked out by Mr. Grubeck's sudden appearance, and like any sane person, makes a run for it.

Finding nothing but locked doors during her initial scamper, Laurie stumbles onto the set of Faust in the school's auditorium. At first, I wanted to say that Mr. Grubeck kills Laurie using one of them pointy cave thingies. But I soon discovered that they're actually called stalagmites. Isn't that strange? Nonetheless, as opening scenes go, the one that opens 976-EVIL 2 is not bad.

The opening credits and post-opening credits scene isn't too bad either, as it features the always amazing music of Chuck Cirino (Chopping Mall) and a brief appearance by Sigal Diamant, who plays the world's cutest biker bar bartender.

Arriving at said biker bar, the Mad Dog Inn, Spike (Patrick O'Bryan), who you might remember from the first film (he got to feel up Lezlie Deane's stocking encased legs), takes a seat at bar and orders a beer and some fries. After watching a news report on the bar's television detailing the gruesome events that befell Laurie in Slate River, the bar's pay phone starts to ring in that rather ominous fashion they tend to do in these movies.

Since no-one else can apparently hear the phone (the cute biker bar bartender says, "What phone?", in response to his query, "Isn't anyone gonna answer that phone?"), Spike reluctantly answers it. And wouldn't you know it, the first thing he hears is a sinister voice say: "Out of the darkness and into the light..." That's right, Spike may have survived the events from the first film, but he's still tormented by that damned psychic hotline.

Meanwhile, in Slate River, a shapely blonde with a sweet ass is about to discover her college professor is a deranged serial killer. Heading down to police headquarters to visit her police shrink father, Robin Jamison (Debbie James) bumps into–you guessed it–Mr. Grubeck, who was arrested thanks to a tip from a witness; Buck Flower was in the auditorium when Laurie Glazer was killed with a stalagmite.

Wearing a sleeveless doily-esque top with a pair of jean shorts covered in doily-esque flourishes, Robin is too adorable for words.

When Robin bumps into Mr. Grubeck, he must have imparted psychic powers onto her, as she can now see into the future.

The last thing you want to do is give Mr. Grubeck access to a telephone, but that's exactly what the Slate River cops end up doing. Calling "976-EVIL" without fail, Mr. Grubeck is granted the power to astral project. Meaning, he can continue murdering people, yet stay in his jail cell at the same time.

Did anyone else get a mild rash on their taint when Spike says to Robin that the fries at Cadillac Jacks (a cool local diner) are "not as tasty as the company"? Just me, eh? At any rate, Spike and Robin (who is wearing a pink top with black spandex exercise tights (with colourful flourishes down the side), team up to fight evil... or some bullshit like that.

Of course, Robin still needs a little more convincing, as she has her doubts that a locked up Mr. Grubeck is killing people thanks to a demonic psychic hotline.

What is it with Robin and her obsession with doily-based clothing? The top she wears while wandering around campus looks like something an old lady might cover her dinning room table with when not in use.

Not accustomed to seeing her fully clothed, Monique Gabrielle (Evil Toons) shows up as Susan Lawlor, the buttoned up prosecutor in charge of bringing charges against Mr. Grubeck. She's only in two scenes, but the sight of her in her lawyerin' clothes and the car scene should satisfy fans of the bosomy actress. The latter scene features several cutaways of her nylon ensnared feet struggling to press on the breaks and some impressive stunk work (I think).

An equally fully clothed Brigitte Nielsen (Chained Heat II) also makes an appearance as the gothy owner of Lucifer's, an occult bookstore. However, unlike Monique Gabrielle, Brigitte's part is merely a cameo... so, don't get too excited.

In terms of rating the many looks Robin sports in this film, my favourite has to be the pink belly-revealing top/jeans combination she wears throughout the film's final third (white belt, ftw).

You would think a film that has everything I just mentioned would eventually run out of steam. Think again, as 976-EVIL 2 saves the best for last. Exhausted after a long day of battling the forces of darkness, Robin decides to unwind by watching a movie with her pal Paula (Leslie Ryan). Unfortunately, Paula wants to watch Night of the Living Dead; Robin would prefer if they watched It's a Wonderful Life.

After flipping back and forth between the two films for a few minutes, Robin finally gives up and goes to the kitchen to get popcorn. Sitting on the couch in her 90s-friendly attire (unlike Robin, Paula's style oozes the 1990s), Paula is suddenly zapped into the television and finds herself on the set of It's a Wonderful Life during the "Every time a bell rings, an angel gets his wings" scene.

The way Jim Wynorski and his team managed to make it appear as if Paula was in It's a Wonderful Life was shockingly adept. Seriously, it was seamless. To make things even more awesome, the scene is combined with Night of the Living Dead.

It's true, both films were, at the time at least, public domain, so it made sense for budget conscience filmmakers to use them in this manner. But still, the way the effect was executed was first-rate. It's too bad the entire film couldn't have been at this level of craftsmanship.

Stripped to Kill II: Live Girls (Katt Shea, 1989)

What do my eyes see gyrating in front of me? Are those healthy gams encased in the finest fishnet stockings fourteen dollars can buy? Why, yes. That's exactly what they are. And on top of getting the price right, you weren't kidding when you said they were healthy. In fact, they're so healthy, they should be featured in Leg Show magazine (which, get this, is a real publication). Anyway, it would seem that writer-director Katt Shea has somehow convinced producer Roger Corman to allow her to make a sequel to Stripped to Kill, because it totally looks like I just watched Stripped to Kill II: Live Girls, the absolutely necessary sequel to the strip club set slasher flick starring Kay Lenz and Norman Fell, and featuring a shitload of lingerie. Well, I'm afraid to say that Miss Lenz and Mr. Fell are nowhere to be found in the second chapter (their existence isn't even acknowledged), but the lingerie, my god, the lingerie, it's more prevalent than ever. Actually, the same could be said about the film's overall temperament, as Katt Shea seems extra determined to create something spectacular. And you know what? That determination pays off quite handsomely, as the sequel is not only superior in every way to the original, but it manages to out dream Rinse Dream on several occasions. If you're in anyway familiar how I feel about the Rinse Dream aesthetic, then you know I don't say that lightly. A vast improvement in terms of acting, choreography, costuming, music, production design, and, of course, direction, part two takes no prisoners when it comes to delivering a weird mix of surrealism and erotic horror with a steamy dose of noirish cool.

Even though there's no way I can confirm this, but I feel the success of the first film must have enabled Katt Shea to take more risks artistically this time around. Just as long as every dance number ends with a woman topless. And you can see this art proceeded by toplessness in almost every scene. Your average perverted mind simply wants to see naked breasts, so it doesn't really matter what takes place before they're exposed for all to see. (Really? You mean they'll sit through interpretive dance just to see boobs?) Are you kidding? They'll watch an old man change his colostomy bag if it means they'll be rewarded with unclothed titties.      
 

 

Freeing up their ability to satisfy their own artistic endeavours, while, at the same, delivering the sleazy goods the marketplace expects, Katt Shea uses this technique to her advantage, as every scene practically oozes this dichotomic construct.  
 

 

Wasting little time establishing this new-found freedom, Stripped to Kill II: Live Girls opens with an erotic dance routine featuring zombie-esque women in rags menacing a lone stripper in white. You can tell almost immediately that this isn't your average strip club. For starters, there's this wind, and not just any wind, a howling wind, that seems to be creating an air of extreme disquietude. Wind aside, the blonde swinging on the poll is Victoria (Lisa Glaser), and she's wearing white hold up stockings and being harassed by her stripper peers, who are, of course, dressed like dishevelled devil worshipers.

Suddenly, a panic stricken Shady (Maria Ford) enters the frame. A shock-haired, or maybe that was just her normal hair? Whatever. A clearly frazzled Shady is being harassed not only by her peers (who are, like I said, in desperate need of a makeover), but by mysterious figure in a mask wielding a razor-blade between their teeth. 
 

 

Just as she's about to learn the identity of the masked individual, Shady wakes up on her friend's couch with a bloody mouth (the skylight above the couch is covered with mannequins). Concerned for her well-being, Shady's friend, an English woman named Cassandra (Karen Mayo-Chandler), offers her some tea (yep, she's an English woman, all right). There's no time to dilly-dally, the neon and zebra print adorned walls of the Paragon need strippers to tie the room together, so Shady and Cassandra head down to fulfill their contractual obligation.

As they enter the club, I was quite taken with its stylish decor. The aforementioned neon and zebra print give it that new wave flavour everyone with a pulse savours, but the addition of chain link fence material and sharp angles gave the club an almost industrial feel.
 

 

While Shady and Cassandra are making their way backstage, we meet a dancer named Something Else (Marjean Holden), who is explaining the genesis of her unique stage name. Since Shady dreamed about Victoria in distress, she asks Ike (Tom Ruben), the Paragon DJ, where she is. Pointing the spotlight on her just as she was about to receive a generous tip (fifty bucks), a sense relief washes over Shady when she sees that Victoria is alive and well. Though, if you were to judge by Shady's body language, relief is something she's got in short supply, as she constantly looks like a delicate flower that's got the weight of stripping world resting uncomfortably on her lightly freckled shoulders. Her flowery state of mind isn't helped by the fact that her fellow dancers can't stand each other.

We get a taste of this stripper-on-stripper animosity when Victoria tells Something Else to go fuck herself in the dancer's dressing room.
 

 

Stressed out by the negative atmosphere in the club's dressing room, Something Else scolds Dazzle (the E.G. Daily-esque Birke Tan) for using her tweezers, Shady retreats to the alleyway behind the club for solace.

Oh, alleyway behind the Paragon club, why are you so awesome?

Seriously, the alleyway in Stripped to Kill II: Live Girls has got a personality of its own. After making a dinner date with Victoria, Shady and her super short skirt go home to change. Unfortunately, she falls asleep on the couch, and dreams that she is running toward the Paragon in a diaphanous dress made of  imitation silk. When she arrives, she finds Victoria hanging from one of the club's many chain link fence motifs with her throat cut.
 

 

Now, this is the time when we're usually introduced to my least favourite character in these type of movies: the gruff homicide detective in charge of solving the case. And don't get me wrong, he's gruff as fuck, but there was something off-kilter about Sergeant Decker (Eb Lottimer) that made me inexplicably like him the moment he appears on-screen. At the Paragon to ask Victoria's living co-workers about the crime, Decker sizes up the situation pretty quickly. While I'm sure he picked up some important clues, all I noticed is that Dazzle loves leopard print and that Something Else has a habit of correcting Dazzle's grammar. More importantly...wait a minute, what can be more important than leopard print?!? Trust me, this is more important than leopard print. We get to witness the first meeting of Shady and Decker, one of the most fascinating on-screen pairings in film history.
 

 

The backstage bickering and grammar correcting continues in the next scene when a stripper named Mantra (Debra Lamb) tells Something Else to suck her dick (as you know, I soft spot for women who refer to their non-existent male genitalia), and Something Else tells Dazzle the word is "geek" not "greek" when she attempts to mock Ike's ill-timed romantic gesture towards Shady (he tries to give her a rose). While all this drama is taking place, Decker is out sleuthing his ass off in the club's alleyway; kudos, by the way, to cinematographer Phedon Papamichael for creating one of the most stunning alleyways I have ever seen depicted in a motion picture.
 

 

While I was admiring the way the neon light twinkled in the puddles of water that litter the alleyway behind the Paragon, a Mr. Pocket-esque (Mr. Pocket was the lead creep in the first Stripped to Kill) patron inside the club is admiring Karen Mayo-Chandler's English thighs up close.           

 

 

The second meeting between Shady and Decker does not go well at all, as he gets an awkward lap dance from a woman who should be the prime suspect in a murder investigation. The reason she's not a suspect is because, well, Decker has got the hots for her. And can you blame him? At any rate, after the lap dance debacle, Decker tries to make things right by inviting Shady to get a bite to eat at his favourite Hawaiian taco stand; the fake–though, I'm sure they were real–palm trees over looking the joint added to the film's dream-like temperament. On top of seeing Maria Ford's bewildered kewpie doll schtick in a non-strip club environment, we learn that Decker is wearing woman's coat.
 

 

The sound of a harmonica gently being blown on the soundtrack (composer Gary Stockdale's music does a masterful job of creating the right mood), and Shady's knee-high hooker boots dominate the proceeding as they kiss for the first time. And just like the lap dance, it's pretty awkward. Mostly because Decker retreats mid-smooch, which upsets Shady. To be fair, a stiff breeze is enough to unhinge Shady, she's the world's most fragile and complicated exotic dancer. But his make out withdrawal was totally uncool. Sure, he's trying to act professional by not getting involved with a suspect in the murder case he's currently investigating, but you don't take a woman, especially one wearing a super-tight gold skirt (the kind that needs adjusting every five minutes) to a Hawaiian taco stand at 3 A.M., and then suddenly decide that you don't feel like pressing your tongue against their tongue; it's not the way a civil society works.     
 

 

Giving one the most oddly compelling performances I've seen in a long time, Maria Ford (Slumber Party Massacre III) is beguiling Shady, a.k.a. Margaret Albright, a stripper whose peers wind up dead after she dreams about them. Every gesture, every nuance, is filtered through the actresses' stainless steal bear trap of a brain. This filtering process is best observed when she's walking home from her "date" with Decker. If you pay close attention, you'll notice that she tilts her head to one side, which, to me, signified that the plethora of deep and disturbing thoughts rattling around inside her head were weighing her down.
 

 

Upon further reflection, her performance reminded me a lot of Isabella Adjani in Possession, in that, she was absolutely fearless when it came to putting herself in psychological jeopardy. Take the scene where wakes up in an alleyway behind her friend's apartment (a loft on the outskirts of a broken dream), she's dirty, she's covered in blood, and her stockings are torn, which, as most people know, are the hallmarks of a great performance. The way Maria Ford went from being a glamorous vixen (fingerless opera gloves paired with a vampy red dress) to a bloodied mess was mind-blowing.
 

 

Oh, the duality between Maria's two looks (glamorous and bloodied) and the alleyways she spent most of her time was not lost on me. The alleyway for the glam look, for example, had a neon sheen to it, whereas the narrow passage for the bloodied motif looked like an apocalyptic nightmare (the abandoned railway tracks were a nice touch).
 

 

Upping the ante when it came to just about everything, Stripped to Kill II: Live Girls manages to inject itself into the pores of everyone who watches it. In fact, I wouldn't be surprised if they were completely unclogged by the time the film had finished. The state of my pores, aside, the dance numbers (choreographed, like in the first film, by Ted Lin), the costumes (Ellen Gross), and the production design (Virginia Lee) were all first-rate in terms of creativity. If you want to see all three working in perfect harmony, check out Shady and Cassandra's lion tamer routine, or Shady's naughty school girl number (white thigh-high hold up stockings paired with lacy white ankle socks), as both seem to capture the essence of this film's appeal in a nutshell.

Actually, if you want to see the greatness of Ellen Gross's costume design, look no further than the alleyway scenes that feature Maria Ford and Eb Lottimer, as the chromatic cinematography and Shady's classic 1940s attire mixed with 1980s whore chic really seem to come alive when bathed in the neon shadows. 

 

 

A masterpiece of erotic horror, writer-director Katt Shea, her talented crew (kudos to Greg Maher for his amazing art direction), and the film's bevy of actors (Maria Ford is electrifying presence) and non-actors (Jeannine Bisignano, who plays a surly stripper named "Sonny" probably never acted before), have all come together to fashion a unique cinematic statement.

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