Only now does it occur to me... SONS OF ANARCHY, "CAREGIVER" (3x3) (2010)

Only now does it occur to me... that Stephen King's "Bachman" character, who appears in a just a few minutes of one season three episode ("Caregiver"), ought to have his own spin-off series.

Without giving away any substantial SONS OF ANARCHY spoilers, I'll say that it's a show about violent biker gangs that somehow combines the sensibilities of STONE COLD and HAMLET.  It's a veritable playground for some great character actors like Ron Perlman, Katey Sagal, William Lucking, and Kim Coates to ply their trade.  It's a guilty pleasure that occasionally approaches art, like CON AIR.

In any event, in this particular third season episode, circumstances arise that demand the talents of a "cleaner," that old crime-scene-erasing cliché of hardboiled stories, a profession perhaps most popularly depicted by Harvey Keitel in PULP FICTION.  The "cleaner" that they call here is "Bachman" (the name itself a nod to King's nom de plume "Richard Bachman")



King shows up, riding his real-life motorcycle and wearing his own biker attire.  What follows are three or four minutes of spectacular television, as King kookily creeps us out in a very reserved, soft-spoken way.  He demands "80s music" before descending below to dispose of the body– while the actual disposal is left to the imagination, the viewer certainly imagines hacksaws, vats of acid, or worse.  Later, he demonstrates hilarious taste in home decor during a brilliantly bizarre coda that I shan't spoil here.

I'd dare to say King's performance is nuanced, which may come as a shock if you've only seen him as Jordy Verrill in CREEPSHOW or "Hoagie Man" in KNIGHTRIDERS.  Though SONS OF ANARCHY is not a horrorshow in the traditional sense, I think that Stephen King's alter-ego doing unspeakable things in a basement warrants mention in the midst of a Halloween countdown!

2014 HALLOWEEN COUNTDOWN

1.  FROM DUSK TILL DAWN 2: TEXAS BLOOD MONEY (1999, Scott Spiegel)

2.  MARK OF THE VAMPIRE (1935, Tod Browning)

3.  FULL MOON HIGH (1981, Larry Cohen)

4.  EIGHT-LEGGED FREAKS (2002, Ellory Elkayem)

5.  MASTERS OF HORROR: WE ALL SCREAM FOR ICE CREAM (2007, Tom Holland)
6. ...

Film Review: VAMP (1986, Richard Wenk)

Stars: 4.5 of 5.
Running Time: 93 minutes.
Notable Cast or Crew: Chris Makepeace (MY BODYGUARD, MEATBALLS), Robert Rusler (NIGHTMARE ON ELM STREET 2, WEIRD SCIENCE, THRASHIN'), Gedde Watanabe (SIXTEEN CANDLES, GREMLINS 2), Sandy Baron (TARGETS, THE OUT-OF-TOWNERS), Dedee Pfeiffer (FALLING DOWN, INTO THE NIGHT), Grace Jones (CONAN THE DESTROYER, A VIEW TO A KILL), Billy Drago (MYSTERIOUS SKIN, THE UNTOUCHABLES, DELTA FORCE 2). Music by Jonathan Elias (CHILDREN OF THE CORN, TUFF TURF). Cinematography by Elliot Davis (SHAKES THE CLOWN, OUT OF SIGHT) and Douglas F. O'Neons (director of TEXAS GODFATHER, camera op on BAD BOYS, CHATO'S LAND).
Tag-line: "The first kiss could be your last."
Best one-liner: "Do they do that in Vegas? Whoa! That's classy, now that's classy!"

VAMP somehow expertly fuses so many disparate elements that I love about the 80's: the underground Lower Manhattan filmmaking vibe from director Richard Wenk (DRACULA BITES THE BIG APPLE); vibrant, garish lighting and evocative set design (á la Argento, Almodóvar, or even Susan Seidelman);

likable, occasionally witty, horror-comedy (like NIGHT OF THE CREEPS or PHANTASM II);

the 'long, endless night genre' (as seen in AFTER HOURS or MIRACLE MILE); and dopey, mainstream screwball comedy (the buying of friendship is a major plot point as is the presence of Gedde Watanabe- ‘Long Duk Dong’ in SIXTEEN CANDLES).

The champagne of beers.

As you can see, there are several worlds colliding in this flick, and the focal point of its candy-colored universe is a blood-curdling, utterly bonkers (and wordless!) performance by one Ms. Grace Jones, who is officially the scariest vampire since Max Schreck (…and until Michael Ironside). Perched on a headless, sculpted throne, daubed in white body paint, clad in a metal wire bikini (all three by NYC street artist Keith Haring!), and donning a fiery red wig, Jones is a striking vision of avant-garde terror.




"The guys at the fraternity are gonna love her!" shouts a perennial 80's toolbar (played by Robert Rusler)...Umm...WHAAAT?! Also, Jones is so severe in her commitment that it almost comes as a shock to see her in behind the scenes footage (also available on the DVD), laughing and goofing around. Her ability to divorce herself from her own celebrity and remain totally connected to this monstrous character is a true feat, though many would argue that the Ms. Jones herself is already pretty scary, as is.

At one point, she's referred to as "Queen Bitch," which may be the inspiration for a 2006 incident at a Delta Airlines party where the real-life Ms. Jones allegedly began stripping, proclaiming herself ""Queen Bitch Jungle Mother of New York!"

...Anyway, uh, I lost my train of thought. Billy Drago is in this, too.

He plays an exquisite 80's albino punk gang leader named "Snow" who brandishes a hunting knife and is the victim of an extended balls-grab low blow. We've got Sandy Baron playing a creepy, cockroach-snacking emcee. A charred skeleton musters the strength to flip the bird:

and it all basically ends with the statement, "This has been one whacky night." I love this movie.

[Side note: it's also most likely the inspiration for the latter half of Robert Rodriguez and Quentin Tarantino's 1996 stripper/vampire bar flick, FROM DUSK TILL DAWN.]

-Sean Gill

Film Review: THE LOVELESS (1982, Kathryn Bigelow & Monty Montgomery)

Stars: 4 of 5.
Running Time: 85 minutes.
Notable Cast or Crew: Starring WILLEM DAFOE. Marin Kanter (LADIES AND GENTLEMEN, THE FABULOUS STAINS), J. Don Ferguson (FREEJACK, MAXIMUM OVERDRIVE), Robert Gordon (who also did the soundtrack, as well as contributing songs to BEETLEJUICE and NATURAL BORN KILLERS). Additional music by John Lurie.
Tag-line: "Sworn to Fun...Loyal to None!!!"
Best one-liner: "You never can tell on a day like this- things could be goin' jake one minute, then, presto- before you know it, you're history."

Two of my favorite actors made their leading man debuts in 1982 biker flicks: Ed Harris in KNIGHTRIDERS and Willem Dafoe in THE LOVELESS. Both films depict a counterculture distorted by the 80's- wistful nostalgia tempered by a heavy dose of “cusp of Reagan” fatalism. A loose retelling of the star-making WILD ONE, Brando has been succeeded by a lean, mean, and leather-clad Dafoe.

At this age (26) he's even more angular, skull-like, and serpentine than usual, but he's no villain- he's simply a jaded instrument: a country-drawlin' extension of his bike, casually "goin' to hell in a breadbasket."

There's not much of a plot in the conventional sense: drifters congregate and they go their own ways. A ratchet torques a bolt as oil dribbles from an engine. A switchblade's spring pops and the blade snaps to attention. A truck stop woman hoofs it on a zebra-print carpet.


The rustic, fog-enshrouded American countryside is split by that asphalt ribbon of adventure, and here, it looks like something out of a storybook. It's co-directed by Monty Montgomery (who brought the dangerous Rockabilly vibe) and Kathryn Bigelow (who brought the immersive, visual flair).

Montgomery's contributions to cinema (particularly to David Lynch) have often gone unnoticed: a producer on WILD AT HEART and TWIN PEAKS and co-creator of HOTEL ROOM, Montgomery seems to have infused Lynch with a desire to leave ERASERHEAD's tenement and BLUE VELVET's suburbia behind- and hit the open road.

Dafoe driving his lady nowhere fast in THE LOVELESS.


Nic Cage driving his lady nowhere fast in WILD AT HEART.

The maudlin/macabre depiction of Route 66 culture, the dynamics of Sailor and Lula's relationship, the twangily ominous music, the presence of 'dark angel' Dafoe, and road-racin' Lynch heroes like James Hurley (TWIN PEAKS) and Pete Dayton (LOST HIGHWAY), in my opinion, simply would not exist without Montgomery’s influence.

Regardless, we get one of the best soundtracks in memory (from John Lurie to Little Richard to Eddy Dixon to The Diamonds to Brenda Lee), the requisite Dafoe asscheekage factor, eye-poking bullet bras, and it ends with a doleful crescendo of violence which provides the proper resonance. A vivid, haunting journey to nowhere…fast. Four stars.

-Sean Gill

Film Review: THE WILD ONE (1953, Laslo Benedek)

Stars: 3.5 of 5.
Running Time: 79 minutes.
Notable Cast or Crew: Lee Marvin, Marlon Brando, Robert Keith, Richard Farnsworth.
Tag-lines: "Marlon Brando! Driven Too Far By His Own Hot Blood!"
Best one-liner: "Nobody tells me what to do. You keep needlin' me, if I want to, I'm gonna take this joint apart and you're not gonna know what hit you!"

Forget seeing a man fly in SUPERMAN. Forget STAR WARS' Death Star incinerating a planet. Forget dinosaurs running amok in JURASSIC PARK or KING KONG climbing the Empire State building. The most improbable event ever committed to celluloid is contained within the whirling reels of THE WILD ONE, and that event is this: pretty-boy milksop Marlon Brando beating the shit out of Lee Marvin. Come on.

Alright, forget the iconic status of Brando in this movie for just a second, and think about this: Sporting tattoos and a neatly-trimmed beard, smarmily riding a motorcycle, and wearing a beatnik vest, a striped shirt, and the moniker "Chino," this movie is Lee Marvin's to steal.

And, by God, he hotwires it, takes it for a spin, leaves it upside-down in a ditch, keys it, and then roars away on his hawg, laughin' his ass off like some kinda hyena sonofabitch.

He's so awesome that The Beatles named themselves after Lee's gang (though never officially admitted it). Basing his performance off of legendary biker "Wino Willy" Forkner, who rode with the "Booze Fighters," Lee even learned to ride a motorcycle (so as not to be upstaged by Brando) and quickly became a serious challenger in the desert motorcycle racing scene. Iconic though it may be, this isn't exactly the greatest flick ever made, but Lee proves that it should be remembered for something more than just Brando's lopsided newsie hat. Bravo, Mr. Marvin.

-Sean Gill

Film Review: DEADBEAT AT DAWN (1988, Jim van Bebber)

Stars: 4 of 5.
Running Time: 80 minutes.
Notable Cast or Crew: Director, writer, editor, actor, and stuntman, Dayton's own, Jim van Bebber.
Tag-lines: "He quit the gangs. They killed his girl. He became..."
Best one-liner: "If you ever do that again, I'm gonna pull your eyeballs outta your head and eat 'em!"

Damn! This movie is pissed off! It's brutal! It's all about ninja throwing stars and burning mattresses and screaming "You motherfuckers!" to no one in particular. It's the kind of movie that would logically emerge from Dayton-fucking-Ohio during the Reagan era. There's something about the low-rent punk grittiness of truly independent 80's cinema that can't ever really be duplicated.

REPO MAN, STREET TRASH, SUBURBIA, etc.; all of these movies possess a kind of magical, punch-in-the-guts realism that is exceptionally difficult to enumerate, but DEADBEAT AT DAWN surely has it. It's kind of like STRANGER THAN PARADISE meets ASSAULT ON PRECINCT 13. Director, writer, stuntman, and star Jim van Bebber plays 'Goose.' He's the sort of guy who breaks into his Dad's house to drink his last beer.

His Dad's the kind of guy who injects smack into his toes and beats rats with a ball bat. There's revenge, decapitations, dime-store Ouija-board mysticism, trippy kaleidoscopic transitions, and a whole lotta innocent bystanders who probably shoulda just stayed home. It's the kind of movie they mostly stopped making in the 70's.

Budgeted films haven't come close to this since EMPEROR OF THE NORTH POLE, DOG DAY AFTERNOON, or COFFY.

It's almost inconceivable that this came out the same year as DIE HARD, but there's an abundance of underground stuntwork and camera movement here that puts Hollywood to shame. Four stars of raw, primal, unfiltered rage, and a true achievement for outsider art.

-Sean Gill