Hellhole (Pierre De Moro, 1985)

If you like women, and I mean, really like women, you'll definitely want to check out Hellhole, the developmentally challenged Cadillac of women in prison movies. It's got every kind of woman your unvarnished heart could possibly desire. Of course, the catch being that all the women are somewhat meshuggeneh. However, if you're like me, and you can't stand being around women who have all their faculties in order, then have I got a treat for you. It's got women who swing axes, body blow absorbing nurses, sandbox girls (there's nothing hotter than the sight of a grown woman playing in a sandbox while wearing a nondescript hospital gown), beastly women who lurk in dark boiler rooms, jacuzzi lesbians, mud bath connoisseurs, Christian fundamentalists with crimped hair, glue-sniffing lesbians (actually, the jacuzzi lesbians and the glue-sniffing lesbians are one in the same, so it should read "glue-sniffing lesbians who like jacuzzis"), shock-haired psychotics, overly enthusiastic shower fight bystanders, and skittish binge eaters. Oh, my, I'm getting tingly just thinking about all the mentally unstable ladies who populate this film's rough and grimy universe. While it may seem like I'm rattling off a random list of socially maladjusted women for my own sick and twisted amusement, let me assure you, I'm not gently tugging on your proverbial carburettor (though I bet half of you wish I was), all these crazy chicks magically appear at some point during this Pierre De Moro-directed motion picture. Yeah, that's right, Pierre De Moro directed this motherfucker, directed the living shit out of it, if you ask me, and there's nothing you can do about it. Imagine if someone really did want to do something about it, wouldn't that be an unexpected turn of events? Out of curiosity, I'd like to see them try, because the makers of this film possess a steadfast dedication to the realm of sleazy trash, and its ornery cousin, trashy sleaze.

It's mildly absurd, well, at least it was to me, that the film's only sane female characters are played by Mary Woronov (Eating Raoul) and Judy Landers (Dr. Alien), two of my favourite people on the planet. Sure, the hospital's administrator (Terry Moore) and a couple of the nurses seemed to be on the cusp of being normal, but they're basically background characters. Besides, you'd have to be a tad unhinged to want to work at a hospital run by Mary Woronov (her legs alone are taller than your insignificant ass). Anyway, the absurdity I'm alluding to stems from the fact that Mary Woronov's Dr. Fletcher (a tribute to Louise Fletcher from One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest, perhaps?) is trying to cure insanity while behaving in a manner that was clearly sane. On the other hand, Judy Landers' Susan seemed sane simply because Judy's one of the few actress with the innate ability to appear as if she was born without a brain. And, as we all know, it's kinda hard to damage a brain when there's no brain to damage in the first place.

This air of cranial sluggishness adds a subtle layer of confusion to the proceedings, as Silk (Ray Sharkey), a hired killer with a bit of a sadomasochistic streak, is instructed to find the whereabouts of some important documents. You see, the exact location of these documents can be found buried somewhere inside the brain of Susan's mother (Lynn Borden), but since he strangled her in a fit of strangulation with his favourite strangling scarf, he's going to have to dig through the empty-headed morass that is her daughter's brain instead. It's safe to say, this is not going to be an easy task. Compounding matters is the fact that Susan has developed a serious case of amnesia as a result of a nasty fall, and the fact that she watched her mother get strangled to death by a sleazy fiend dressed in leather ain't helping matters, either.

How exactly does one extract information from a brainless twit with amnesia? Since one of Silk's employers is on the advisory board that oversees the state's hospitals, they have set it up that Susan spends her time recovering at not a regular hospital, but at the Ashland Sanatorium For Women. Trading in his usual studs and leather look for a less menacing one, Silk poses as an orderly, and begins to badger the forgetful blonde. Standing in Silk's way, however, is another imposter named Ron (Richard Cox). Pretending to be orderly named Steve, Ron has been hired by another member of the advisory board (one not affiliated with Silk's amnesia scheme) to keep tabs on the goings on at the controversial sanatorium (there have been reports of abuse at this particular facility).

While the fake orderlies both covet what's inside Susan's brain, Silk wants wrestle intelligence from it, Ron/Steve wants to shield its contents from harm, Dr. Fletcher wants to inject her brain with a serum. And not just any serum, one that will revolutionize the treatment of a wide range of mental disorders. Oh, and before you get all excited over the prospect of watching a film where Mary Woronov wields a syringe overflowing with iridescent fluid, I feel I should warn you. Are you ready? The fluid in her syringe doesn't glow; it doesn't even glimmer. But, hey, buck up, little camper. She uses a syringe and preforms liquid lobotomies in a subterranean stetting, what more do you want? Not to sound ungrateful, but how hard is it to fill a syringe with a substance that glows? Let it go, man.

"You're not mentally ill, you're emotionally disturbed," is my favourite line in the entire movie, and it's uttered by Mary Woronov's Dr. Fletcher when Judy Landers' Susan tries to explain that she doesn't belong in a place like this. The crazed-looking redhead constantly grabbing at her hospital gown, on the other hand, does belong in a place like this. If I was a fake orderly pretending to work at Ashland, she would have been the first patient I would have asked out on a date. Of course, she's not listed in the credits (alas, there's no one listed as "crazed-looking redhead constantly grabbing at her hospital gown"), which always seems to be the case when it comes to crushing on mentally ill women who appear in the background of women in prison movies made during the 1980s. Well, whatever your name is mysterious redhead who likes to grab at their clothing, I wanna play in the sandbox with you. Call me. Wait a minute, did you say, "play in the sandbox"?!? Yeah, that's right, I said play in the sandbox.

While I'm on the subject, it should be noted that the statuesque Dr. Fletcher is a big fan of sand (put it in a box-like structure and you're looking at one giddy doctor). In fact, my second favourite line spoken aloud in Hellhole is when Dr. Fletcher tells a curious visitor to the sanatorium that she "finds sand to be much more therapeutic than water" in response to their query about the merits having a sandbox on the premises instead of a swimming pool.

After watching a sandbox fight get broken up by a couple of Dr. Fletcher's goons (unlike the security who work at most hospitals, these guys wear all black, carry nightsticks, and use the c-word a lot), Susan finally musters up the courage to ask Ron/Steve about hellhole. Even though he plays dumb, the look of horror on his face when she says the word "hellhole" should tell Susan everything she needs to know about hellhole (it's too early to tell if her non-functioning brain was able to pick up on what he was putting out there with his face). Meanwhile, over in Silk's room (yep, he's moved into Ashland, all right, and has turned his space into a pervert's paradise), the sleazy assassin is confiding with Vera (Edy Williams), a shapely patient who is acting as one of his spies. Telling her to find out all she can about this Steve fella (who he calls "half a fag"), Vera starts snooping around the showers in her white panties wielding a bar of hypoallergenic soap.

Why is Vera wearing panties in the shower? And I had no idea they had hypoallergenic soap back in the 1985 (I thought everyone just used Dial and hoped for the best). An excellent question and a valid point. But there's no time to dilly-dally over such trivialities, a shower fight is about to commence. How do I know a shower fight is about to commence? Um, hello, a bunch of naked women are showering together (one, albeit, is inexplicably wearing white panties), the film's called "Hellhole," not A Walk to Remember, and a mean-looking chick sporting a mullet has just taken exception with the fact that Vera is currently washing her girlfriend's back with a bar of hypoallergenic soap, so, of course, a shower fight is about to commence.

The coolest aspect about this particular sequence was not the sight of two pantie-adorned–Vera's opponent (Ann Chatterton) is, you guessed it, wearing panties–women fighting in a shower while surrounded by a cheering circle of curly-haired cunts, but the fact that one of the C.C.O.C.C's almost buys it while running to get a spot in the circle. Remember ladies, whenever you find yourself in a situation where your presence is needed to make a girls only shower fight seem more exciting than it really is, always walk, never run, your safety and overall well-being is important to us.

When an unbalanced woman with crimped hair wearing Tretorn tennis shoes (Marneen Fields) has finished ranting and raving in the dinning hall, we get our first glimpse of Mary Woronov in all her evil glory. Didn't you mention Mary Woronov being in a previous scene? Yeah, I did. But she was seated during that particular scene. And you what they say? A walking Mary Woronov is a... actually, I have no idea what "they say." All I know is there's something about the way Mary Woronov moves in this movie. Every step seems to have been meticulously thought out beforehand, which gives her character a weirdly alien temperament. Anyway, the woman in the Tretorns stops ranting and raving almost immediately when Mary Woronov's Dr. Fletcher enters the room. After coaxing her down from the table she was standing on, the leggy doctor instructs her goons (one of whom is played by Robert Z'Dar, whose unique jawline is the stuff of nightmares) to take her away.

Take her way, eh? I wonder if they're going to take her to hellhole? Who am I kidding? Of course her crimped ass is going to hellhole; that's where everyone goes when they misbehave at Ashland. With the help her assistant, Dr. Dane (Marjoe Gortner from Starcrash), Dr. Fletcher injects five ccs of an experimental drug they've been working on into Miss Trethorn's brain. After some promising writhing by their unwilling test subject, the patient dies. No biggy, right? Little does Dr. Fletcher know that Don/Steve has been watching them from the shadows. The most disturbing part about Don/Steve's reaction was that he seem more horrified the post-mortal kiss Dr. Fletcher plants on the dead girl's lips than her actual murder (necrophilic lesbianism was, unfortunately, still frowned upon back in 1985).

Speaking of irregular lesbianism, Hellhole is chock-full of dyky goodness. While Susan is busy taking an unauthorized tour of hellhole (where she finds a world full of steamy pipes and rattling chains), the goons are busy busting up some equally unauthorized instances of girl-on-girl action. Two gals (Marie Lamarre and Judith Geller) are caught naked together inhaling amyl nitrate in their room, another two (Edy Williams and Natalie Main) take a mud bath together (Natalie is credited as "mud girl"), and one of the women from the first lesbian encounter I mentioned is found sniffing glue with a slender brunette (Lamya Derval), who is credited as "jacuzzi girl." Since it was the jacuzzi girl's first transgression involving unlawful cunnilingus, Dr. Fletcher doesn't send her to hellhole, but instead invites her to take a soak in her private jacuzzi... While she's soaking, a kimono-wearing Dr. Fletcher coyly offers up the shapeliness of her right leg as a gift to her newfound friend.

A brunette woman buys some grub at Tony's Tacos, yet there's no one in the credits listed as "brunette woman at taco stand" or "taco-eating lesbian with a perm." Weird. Just a second, it would seem that Michele Laurent plays the taco lady, and is credited as "Tony's Tacos Patron."

I'll admit, it was exhaustive work keeping track of all the crazed women who appear Hellhole. For example, did you know that Dyanne Thorne (Ilsa: She Wolf of the SS) shows up briefly as an inmate named Crysta? Well, she does. Let me give you some free Hellhole-watching advice: Don't let all the extraneous characters distract you from what's important. The bulk of your focus should be on Mary Woronov and Ray Sharkey, as they're the only ones who seem to be having any fun with their roles. The combination of Mary Woronov's imposing figure and Ray's coke-fueled unpleasantness was an absolute delight. It's too bad their characters couldn't have put aside their differences and gotten along better. It's true, she's a shy lesbian who's into medical experiments and pencil skirts, and he's a registered sex offender who likes to strangle people, but I'm sure they can find some common ground.. After all, I'm currently dating a deranged redhead with severe body issues, and I couldn't be happier.

Taking yet another look at the film's credits, I'm gonna go out on a limb and say the "crazed-looking redhead constantly grabbing at her hospital gown" was played by Tanya Russell, as she's credited as "freaked-out inmate," which is close enough, if you ask me.

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Starcrash (Luigi Cozzi, 1978)

A green laser beam slices through the blackness of space, then a red laser beam. Your mind, confused by the chromatic light show, wonders: What it is this strange phenomenon? Even though this question is muttered midway through Starcrash (a.k.a. Scontri Stellari Oltre la Terza Dimensione), a revolutionary motion picture that will forever change your views on science and technology, it's not the first one to be asked. On the Planet Earth, people have been telling stories about empires battling each other with pointy bits of metal (bullets, shrapnel, knives, axes, spears and swords) for centuries. But what if there was another way to pierce the flesh of your opponent, hence, rendering their organic structure inoperative? I have no way confirming it, but I think this intergalactic adventure was one of the first films to employ lasers as the combatant's primary weapon. The more astute amongst you will notice that I just used the word "intergalactic." Well, that's because it takes place entirely in outer space. Yeah, that's right, the uncharted vastness of space. Other than Barbarella, Forbidden Planet, and, to a lesser extent, Voyage of the Rock Aliens (most of the film takes place in the fictional town of Speelburgh, not outer space), I don't think any other film has had the imaginative fortitude to set its entire story up in the big black beyond.

What is space? And how do you make a film up there? I have no idea. But I know someone who does, and his name is Luigi Cozzi (Hercules), an Italian filmmaker with bold and fresh ideas (especially when it comes to inventing a complex universe from scratch) and the wisdom to hire Armando Valcauda to do the special effects and John Barry compose the music. Now, I'm not entirely sure if they shot the film in outer space or just created an outer space-like world using sets and props (a couple of the locations did have an earthy quality about them). But whatever they did, I actually felt as if I was spending time in a totally different galaxy, as the stars in this film sparkle with a jaunty resplendence.

Okay, now that we have established that we're in fact floating in space, in what particular era would a sane person want our interplanetary escapade to be influenced by? If you said, "late 1970s European disco culture," you'd be absolutely correct. The combination of flashy, disco-friendly threads (gold capes, leather jumpsuits, silver corsets with gladiatorial fringe and thigh-high boots) with the vibrant colours of this Italo-based solar system are perfectly in tune with one another.

Looking disco chic in space is one thing, it also helps to appear as though you are doing stuff once you get up there. It's true, I'd watch these people stand around doing dick and not a lot of all for hours on end, but others might not be so tolerant. Tackling this potential problem head-on, Starcrash introduces us to a bushy-haired navigator named Akton (Marjoe Gortner) and an attractive pilot named Stella Star (Caroline Munroe), two troublemakers who transverse the stars in their spaceship looking for kicks.

Using something called "hyperspace" to evade capture from the authorities, the cocky duo end up discovering an escape pod containing a man whose brain has been fried. While tending to the injured survivor, Thor (Robert Tessier) and Elle (a robot played by Judd Hamilton and voiced by Hamilton Camp), the two bounty hunters who have been chasing them, catch up with the wanted pair and arrest the smugglers without haste. Sentenced by a giant squid head, Akton and Stella are both sent to prison, the former is put in stasis, the latter gets sent to a labour camp (space gulag).

Even though her shapely body seems to be enjoying the all-consuming snugness of her new getup, Stella Star, after working twelve hours straight, has grown tired of the incarcerated life. Without much planning, Stella grabs a weapon from a guard and starts blasting (she actually lets her fellow inmates do most of the blasting, she just wants to get the hell out of there). This sequence, on top of being the one that introduces us to "the outfit," is the first one where get a glimpse of what a laser fired from a laser gun looks like in the world of Starcrash. And I must say, it looks pretty while it's on its journey. However, it's a completely different story when its flaming payload comes in contact with a person's skin. Let's just say, if you like to watch people scream while emitting sparks and smoke as a result of being shot in the chest with a laser gun, you will definitely want to make an appointment with this particular sequence.

It's turns out Stella's chaotic escape attempt was all for naught, as she and Akton were going to be released anyway. I know, you're asking yourself: What kind of justice system lets its criminals go willy-nilly? The judge's ruling seemed pretty straightforward (you do the crime, you extract ore in your leather underpants). You see, The Emperor of the First Circle of the Universe (Christopher Plummer) wants them to partake in a top secret mission, one that involves destroying a weapon of mass destruction located on a phantom planet run by the evil Count Zarth Arn (Joe Spinell from the Forbidden Zone) and, of course, locate David Hasselhoff. To keep tabs on Stella and Akton, The Emperor has them team up with the green-skinned Thor and Elle, a cowboy-accented robot.

On the first planet they come across, Stella and Elle end up battling with Corelia (Nadia Cassini), leader of a race of scantily clad amazonian women whose vocabulary is limited to yelling "revenge" and "kill them." It's during this particular fracas that Stella and Elle begin to develop their unique bond with one another. After escaping the clutches of Cornelia's giant silver robot (a marvel of stop motion animation) and staving off a squadron of her star-fighters (an encounter that produces much laser fire), Stella and Elle bond even more while trapped on a cold and desolate planet. I'll admit, I got a tad misty-eyed when Elle tells Stella that she is the nicest human being he (I'm assuming he's a boy robot) has ever known.

While Stella and Elle are bonding in the snow, we learn that Akton is more than just some guy in a red and black jumpsuit with curly hair. There's something mystical about him, an aura, if you will, that sets him apart from all the other percentage spouting navigators taking up valuable space in the universe. Unafraid to unleash his special healing powers, wield his fluorescent cutting implement (a kind of sword made out of light), or repel the laser beams of others, the oddly handsome Akton changes our perception of how a hero should behave in space. Prone to self-sacrifice, but not a pompous jerk about it, Marjoe Gortner imbues the clairvoyant small-time smuggler with a modest grace. If I wasn't a heterosexual man, one who enjoys eating triangle-shaped snack foods while watching the Atlanta Falcons play football, I would totally hide baby carrots in his hair (winter's coming and I could use the dietary fibre).

Kicking henchwomen in the face like it was second nature, Caroline Munro's Stella Star is a role model to little girls everywhere, specifically the ones who dream of hurling themselves headfirst into the black unknown. However, it doesn't start off that way. When Luigi Cozzi's camera focuses on her for the very first time, Caroline looks like she's about to say something profound but she doesn't. It's an awkward moment, but apparently it's just a teaser for what comes next. Uttering the line, "Go for hyperspace!" with a ten ton dollop of uncut gusto, Caroline boldly signifies to the Starcrash universe that she is Stella Star and no one better mess with her, not unless they want to get a karate chop to the neck.

Sure, Candy Clark (Q: The Winged Serpent), for some strange reason, dubs all her dialogue, but Caroline mouths her words like a pro. Speaking of mouthing words, while "Go for hyperspace!" is my favourite line in the entire movie, my second fave has to be Christopher Plummer's "Imperial Battleship! Halt... the flow of time!" And he's not just talking out of his ass, uh-uh, he actually makes time stand still.

Her taut English flesh wrapped in strategically placed strips of shiny black leather, Caroline's skimpy wardrobe is a breathtaking, thigh accentuating sight to behold in Starcrash. It's no wonder she's got a gunslinging robot and a handsome prince named Simon (David Hasselhoff) both itching to peel it off in slow motion, its potency as a fashion statement and a crotch moistener are through the roof. Even though she's gorgeousness personified, Caroline Munro doesn't sit back and let her stunning looks and killer threads do the majority of the film's heavy lifting. The complete opposite to her performance in Faceless (a film where she mostly writhes around tied to a bed while wearing a white sack with sleeves), Caroline can be seen leading kamikaze attacks, space-walking with a casual ease, fighting cave people, and flirting with robots. In other words, for someone who wears black leather panties in one scene, and, what looks like, a plastic shopping bag in another, she gives a well-rounded performance worthy of a thousand creepy leers.

Remember the laser shootout I mentioned earlier? Well, that's a picnic compared to the laser shootout that takes place in the command centre of Count Zarth's claw-shaped battle station, as it takes close quarter laser combat to a whole new level of awesome. What starts off as yet another tedious space battle (the gold ships of The Emperor repeatedly strafe The Count's battle station) evolves into something truly spectacular when The Emperor starts launching torpedoes. Crashing through the bay windows of The Count's station, the torpedoes, instead of exploding on impact, open up to reveal two men armed with laser rifles. The shootout that ensues between The Emperor's men (gold helmets, ray-guns that shoot green lasers) and Count Zarth's men (black helmets, ray-guns that shoot red lasers) is a thing of chaotic beauty. It's an excellent action-heavy precursor to the slow moving temperament of the finale, which, of course, involves the weaponization of a flying city. A must-see for fans of Barbarella, stop motion animation, outer space, wisecracking robots, and all things Italian. Go for hyperspace!

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