Film Review: THE PERILS OF GWENDOLINE IN THE LAND OF THE YIK-YAK (1984, Just Jaeckin)

Yik-Yaks: Many.

Running Time: 105 minutes.

Notable Cast or Crew: Tawny Kitaen (WITCHBOARD, BACHELOR PARTY), Brent Huff (NINE DEATHS OF THE NINJA, HITMAN'S RUN), Zabou Breitman (THE SWALLOWS OF KABUL), Bernadette Lafont (Chabrol's MASQUES). Music by Pierre Bachelet (EMMANUELLE, THE STORY OF O). Cinematography by André Domage (camera operator on RIFIFI, THE TRAIN, DAY OF THE JACKAL). Production design by Françoise De Leu (DEATH OF A CORRUPT MAN).

Tag-line: "Outrageous adventures in the Kingdom of Women"

Best one-liner: "Look, if I was a butterfly and I lived here, and somebody tried to take me to London, I'd break their face."

Only now does it occur to me... that the credit "avec Tawney Kitaen" was not the strangest thing is store for my viewing of THE PERILS OF GWENDOLINE IN THE LAND OF THE YIK-YAK.



(Note: there will be some vaguely NSFW tableaux to follow, but seen from afar, and nothing too much more extreme than a trashy velvet painting done by, say, Botticelli...)


As I have previously explored, Tawny Kitaen––a performer perhaps best known for reclining on random luxury objects while fans blow at her hair in Whitesnake music videos––is actually a compelling, likable, and talented actor, and the fact that she's not remembered as such is one of the minor acting tragedies of the 1980s (alongside the lack of Charles Bronson comedy bits, Susan Tyrrell leading roles, Powers Boothe good guy parts, etc.). Here, she plays a runaway nun, hot on the trail of her missing father, who is, incidentally, the world's foremost butterfly expert.

So what we have here is a film based on Eurotrash bondage-adventure comics trying to cash in on the success of INDIANA JONES and directed by a French Vogue photographer. (Between all the butterflies and the skin flickery aspects, I'm convinced that––had he lived to see it––GWENDOLINE would have been Vladimir Nabokov's favorite film.)

 

But, unlike the mysterious butterfly MacGuffin at the center of the plot, you can't pin this thing down. Sure, it's got scenes where Brent Huff (GQ model and star of the Sho Kosugi non-Cannon classic NINE DEATHS OF THE NINJA) inexplicably convinces his female companions to take of their shirts because it's raining and somehow they will die of thirst (?) if they are fully clothed in the rain (?!)

but it also has exquisitely choreographed tableaux as well-crafted as anything in Kurosawa or Powell & Pressburger, (or at least Brian De Palma).

I'm not quite kidding––in an audiovisual sense, THE PERILS OF GWENDOLINE IN THE LAND OF THE YIK-YAK is crafted with considerable care. With an incredible operatic electronic score by Pierre Bachelet (think Klaus Nomi meets Tangerine Dream), the film takes a hard right turn out of low-rent Indiana Jones territory in its second half as we enter the eponymous "Land of the Yik-Yak." We're privy to an elaborate Black Widow/Amazonian civilization with no men, and while this initially leads to the sophomoric gags you'd expect,

 

we embark on a whirlwind of arthouse insanity. I hesitate to describe what we're beginning to look at here. I may not have the words, but I'll try.

I could call this "Fetish Doctor Seuss"

or "Terry Gilliam with Extra G-strings"

or "Sleazy Kansai Yamamoto Slums It

at the Thunderdome"

or "H.R. Giger Does a SAW Movie"

or "Written and Directed by Sting's Thong from David Lynch's DUNE"

 

or, you know, "Tinto Brass' DUNE"

or, hell, I could just call it "Alejandro Jodorowsky's DUNE"


or Ken Russell's "TEENAGE MUTANT NINJA TURTLES"

or "Fellini's DAWN OF THE DEAD"

or "a Japanese Vending Machine That Sells Panties Became Sentient and Started Directing Operas Costumed by Eiko Ishioka."

But whatever I choose to call it, there's no mistaking that this is some one-of-a-kind artistic nuttery, and I was fairly riveted throughout. I must give a big shoutout to Bernadette Lafont's performance as the "Queen of the Yik-Yak"

who is giving me some big "Susan Tyrrell in FORBIDDEN ZONE" energy to go with her giant-ass sleeve and hair design.

And, of course, we have to tip the hat to Tawny Kitaen, who brings some real star power

to this cult/adventure/arthouse/softcore/opera weirdness. I gotta say, against all odds, I recommend this madness!

Only now does it occur to me... FIREFOX (1982)

Only now does it occur to me.... that Clint Eastwood basically outsourced the villains of his Cold War caper FIREFOX to the Lucas/Spielberg industrial complex.

The Russian villains you see before you are: Kenneth Colley (Ken Russell veteran and "Admiral Piett" from THE EMPIRE STRIKES BACK),

Ronald Lacey ("Toht" from RAIDERS OF THE LOST ARK),

and Wolf Kahler ("Sgt. Gobler" from RAIDERS OF THE LOST ARK):

To balance things out, we have John Ratzenberger (CHEERS, "Major Derlin" from THE EMPIRE STRIKES BACK), essentially reprising his role from EMPIRE (Rebel on an ice planet) as an American soldier fighting the Evil Empire from the North Pole.

Because I have to tip my hat to the outliers, another of the Russian villains is Klaus Löwitsch, a legitimately Great Actor who may bear some resemblance to Corbin Bernsen, but is in fact one of the most talented players to come out of the New German Cinema and a veteran of no less than five Rainer Werner Fassbinder films. It's probably not too much of a stretch for you to understand that he is completely wasted here.

Apologies, Mr. Löwitsch.

The film itself was a box office smash at the time, but today it plays like a second-tier, phoned in cold war thriller, á la Eastwood's own THE EIGER SANCTION or Peckinpah's THE OSTERMAN WEEKEND. Author Howard Hughes (AIM FOR THE HEART: THE FILMS OF CLINT EASTWOOD) probably sums it up best with, "Less a 'Firefox', it's more of a damp squib, or at best a smoldering turkey."

The opening is kind of a proto-COMMANDO, with shirtless Eastwood as a veteran in pastoral environs trying to enjoy his retirement when he's pulled out to do "one last job." In this case, the Last Job is stealing a top-secret Soviet fighter plane.

I guess there's an understated sci-fi aspect to the film with a "mind-control helmet" that pilots the Soviet plane via telepathy, but that's not even important, so you don't have to worry about it.

Also, for a Cold War actioner, there's not a lot of action. In fact, the entire plot could likely be reduced to about three scenes––therefore, I'm not sure why it runs 2 hours and 15 minutes. Ah, well.


It's also perhaps worth mentioning that the 'thrilling' dogfight is simplistic enough so as to prep us for the eventual Atari game tie-in; and despite using a superior "Reverse Blue-Screen" technology, it still looks inferior to the Battle of Hoth in THE EMPIRE STRIKES BACK. Out of the 39 completed films Clint Eastwood has directed, I have now seen 37 of them (for the curious, my only gaps are HEREAFTER and THE 15:17 TO PARIS). Only THE EIGER SANCTION, SULLY, and INVICTUS are as boring as this one. I prefer BREEZY, for godssakes. BREEZY.

Film Review: ALLAN QUATERMAIN AND THE LOST CITY OF GOLD (1986, Gary Nelson)

Stars: Hoo Boy of 5.

Running Time: 99 minutes.

Notable Cast or Crew: Richard Chamberlain (THE MUSIC LOVERS, THE LAST WAVE), Sharon Stone (CASINO, BASIC INSTINCT), James Earl Jones (STAR WARS, THE HUNT FOR RED OCTOBER, SNEAKERS), Henry Silva (SHARKY'S MACHINE, BULLETPROOF, GHOST DOG), Cassandra Peterson (ELVIRA MISTRESS OF THE DARK, PEE WEE'S BIG ADVENTURE), Robert Donner (COOL HAND LUKE, HIGH PLAINS DRIFTER). Produced by Menahem Golan and Yoram Globus. Based on the novel by H. Rider Haggard (KING SOLOMON'S MINES, SHE). Screenplay by Gene Quintano (SUDDEN DEATH, OPERATION DUMBO DROP) and Lee Reynolds (WHO AM I, DELTA FORCE 2). Directed by Gary Nelson (FREAKY FRIDAY, THE BLACK HOLE). Music by Michael Linn (AMERICAN NINJA, BREAKIN' 2: ELECTRIC BOOGALOO) and Jerry Goldsmith (TOTAL RECALL, ALIEN, GREMLINS). Second unit directed by Newt Arnold (BLOODSPORT, BLOOD THIRST).

Tag-line: "24 Karat Entertainment!"

Best one-liner: "We're starting to piss off somebody's god!"

I've written before at length about the "Cannon Quatermain Canon"––the two films, KING SOLOMON'S MINES and ALLAN QUATERMAIN AND THE LOST CITY OF GOLD, were made simultaneously in 1985, were based on outworn adventure novels by H. Rider Haggard, and were shamelessly attempting to cash in on the success of the INDIANA JONES series.

These films, even moreso than the average American globetrotting adventure film, are xenophobic, racially insensitive (they actually use brownface on Robert Donner to transform him into the excruciatingly offensive Indian character "Swarma"), and generally spit-take inducing. I honestly can't tell if these films are an elaborate joke on the audience, a spoof of the genre's racist tropes, or a genuine attempt at action-adventure entertainment by woefully out of touch individuals.  [It's also worth noting: Cannon's FIREWALKER (with Chuck Norris) was made in the same period and is definitely cut from the same cloth.]

The plot concerns Allan Quatermain (Richard Chamberlain, who deserves better)

Note how his fedora differs from Indiana Jones' in that it is handsomely garnished with a swatch of leopard print from Jo-Anne Fabrics.

and Willie Scott––er, I mean Jesse Huston (Sharon Stone, who also deserves better)

She doesn't even get to sing.

are searching for... not the Ark of the Covenant nor the Sankara Stones nor the Holy Grail, but, I shit you not... a legendary white African tribe who lives in a lost city of gold. At one point, Sharon Stone is made to exclaim, "The white race does exist!" I cannot overstate how unsettling this is.

James Earl Jones (who also obviously deserves better) shows up in a tailcoat, a plastic bone tooth necklace, a Native American feather headpiece, and no pants.

He is playing the warrior sidekick "Umslopogaas," and he wields a giant axe that is conspicuously lightweight and shiny, almost as if it is a piece of plastic covered in reflective paint (which it is). At one point he is captured by the guards of the white tribe's lost city, who are black men wearing white hoods. Again, these decisions appear to be so plainly tone deaf and misguided that it is better to believe they are not deliberate.

According to James Earl Jones, he only signed up for this picture because it allowed him to piggyback his shoot dates with an African vacation. I hope it was a nice vacation.

Master of crazy-eye Henry Silva rules the Lost City like Jim Jones, wearing community theater biblical robes and a Gene Simmons wig. He is clearly based on "Mola Ram" from INDIANA JONES AND THE TEMPLE OF DOOM (complete with a floor-opening sacrificial chamber and a mine full of slave labor), and the major difference is that he does not rip out his victims' hearts, but rather dips them in gold. He screams things like "Which one of you is going to die for slaying our sacred beast?" and appears to be having something approaching a good time.

And wait a minute, who is that on the left, in the Valkyrie breastplate?

Why, it's none other than Elvira (!) herself (Cassandra Peterson), who mostly lounges around and gives the evil eye, which makes her role in this mess the most enviable, from an actor's standpoint.

ALLAN QUATERMAIN AND THE LOST CITY OF GOLD is treasure trove of cheap costumes, depressed actors, incompetent matte work, and mind-bogglingly terrible ideas. There are giant maggot attacks, a wild raft ride (that attempts to mirror TEMPLE OF DOOM's mine-car chase),

and a zany bazaar salesman whose wares include bulletproof spandex.

Furthermore, Quatermain solves literally 95% of the problems he faces with trick-shooting (at tomatoes, natives' faces, trap doors, stalactites, etc.) which is a great message for the youth, too, sure.

In the end, the film is troubling, bizarre, baffling, and frankly the whole thing has aged about as well as the Gold Dust Twins. Now you must atone for your sins by watching the entire catalogues of Ousmane Sembéne, Sarah Maldoror, and Gadalla Gubara. Whew.

Film Review: BLOODSPORT III (1996, Alan Mehrez)

Stars: 3.5 of 5.
Running Time: 91 minutes.
Tag-line: "Beyond honor there is a fight for justice and the truth..."
Notable Cast or Crew: Daniel Bernhardt (BLOODSPORT 2, JOHN WICK), John Rhys-Davies (RAIDERS OF THE LOST ARK, KING SOLOMON'S MINES), Amber Van Lent (LYING EYES, BAYWATCH), Uni Park (TEK WAR, DIRTY WORK), Master Hee Il Cho (BLOODSPORT 2, BEST OF THE BEST), James Hong (BIG TROUBLE IN LITTLE CHINA, NINJA III: THE DOMINATION), Pat Morita (THE KARATE KID, BAYWATCH).  Produced and directed by Alan Mehrez (BLOODSPORT 2, CYBORG 3: THE RECYCLER). 
Best One-liner:  "You're ten years old now, Jason––I think it's time you learned the real meaning about martial arts... and about me.  Have you ever heard about a championship called a Kumite?"

Two down-on-their-luck cineastes in a familiar, darkened alleyway:

"All good things must come to an end.  Even good things that come in 3's."
–"Oh, thank God.  Haven't you inflicted enough suffering?  First, it was undead bird attacks in ZOMBI 3, then Ambrose Bierce fan-fic in FROM DUSK TILL DAWN 3, then poor man's Paul Walker in TOKYO DRIFT, waterski carnage in JAWS 3-D, V8 foreplay in NINJA III, and werewolf nuns in HOWLING III.  And, that's not even counting the time you made me watch Stallone play a hippie in SPY KIDS 3-D, or when you forced me to read the entire novelization of HALLOWEEN III: SEASON OF THE WITCH!"
"I won't have you speaking ill of HALLOWEEN III on my watch.  But, regardless, I have brought you a gift.  Don't you think it's a lovely day for a... Kumite?"
–"Oh, no. Not the third BLOODSPORT.  It has a reputation."
"Trust me, a wise man once said, 'nothing with a Kumite in it can be all bad.'  You can print that in the paper."
–"I must be going."
"Aw, come on, remember how much you loved BLOODSPORT 2: THE NEXT KUMITE?"
–"I guess it was pretty good."
"You're goddamned right it was good.  And BLOODSPORT III naturally brings back part 2's Jean-Faux Van Damme: Swiss martial artist Daniel Bernhardt, whom actual Van Damme cherry-picked as his replacement after they met on a photo shoot for Versace jeans."
–"It's not Versace, it's Ver-sayce."
"Oh, hush.  So the film begins with a montage of scenes from BLOODSPORT 2's Kumite, probably to pad the run-time.  Then, Daniel Bernhardt (as Kumite champion Alex Cardo) wakes up from the flashback––which was actually a sweaty Kumite nightmare."

–"'Kumite Nightmare' would be a good name for a band."
"We then sweep into a frame story.  Remember, how BLOODSPORT 2 had that wraparound with James Hong telling the tale of Alex Cardo to his kiddie dojo?  Well, this continues that tradition, only now it's even more PRINCESS BRIDE, with Bernhardt telling the story of the movie to his ten-year old son.  According to the IMDb trivia section, the age of Bernhardt's son would place this frame story in 2007."
–"I don't care."
"Hey, remember when JCVD dressed up as a street clown to save a bunch of Dickensian urchins in THE QUEST?  Like his illustrious forbear, Jean-Faux Van Bernhardt really cares about the kids, delivering pathos-filled expressions of concern.  (Did I mention that I'm starting to like Jean-Faux Van Bernhardt almost as much as the real JCVD?) And so begins one of the greatest father-son conversations of all time:

"You're ten years old now, Jason––I think it's time you learned the real meaning about martial arts... and about me.  Have you ever heard about a championship called a Kumite?"
It's one of those universal rites of fatherhood; you know, you gotta to tell your kid about the birds n' the bees, about the concept of death, about that time you won two Kumites...  Honestly, though, he should probably be a little more concerned about that George Jetson blow-up doll in the background."
–"Yikes."
"So we travel back eleven years to Bernhardt looking spiffy in a white tux, like James Bond.

He fights some generic ninja dudes in a casino, and it's like they're lifted from a typical Cannon actioner, or the film-within-a-film at the end of PEE WEE'S BIG ADVENTURE.  Dudes in the background randomly shout things like 'That guy's LETHAL!' and there's a MacGuffin of some kind that's not actually important and here the movie spins its wheels for a bit.  Jean-Faux Van Bernhardt becomes involved with a shady businessman played by John Rhys-Davies..."

 –"Aw, man.  Poor guy."
"Hey, dude's gotta eat.  Jean-Faux Van Bernhardt starts dating Rhys-Davies' daughter (Amber Van Lent), who curdles our collective blood during an excruciatingly atonal song 'sesh where she tries to do her best Julee Cruise-in-TWIN PEAKS impersonation,

Note blue dress and red velvet curtain.

but why they thought letting her sing on camera was a good idea is anybody's guess.  It's genuinely and splendidly terrible."

–"You're not really doing a good job of selling me on this movie, are you?"

"Oh, just you wait.  There's a nice bit when Bernhardt and Rhys-Davies admire a truly terrible painting

There's no 'subtitle' for BLOODSPORT III.  Might I submit, for your consideration, BLOODSPORT III: TUXEDO JUNCTION?

and Rhys-Davies says, 'Have you ever seen a painting this exquisite?'

I can't even tell what it's a painting of––a jar of eyeballs?  Baby heads?  Pickled lemons?  Peaches?"

–"Hot damn!"

"Then Rhys-Davies starts tossing around all this talk about a new Kumite, and therefore lines like "I am sponsoring a new Kumite" and "I see you're going into business with my father––something to do with a... Kumite?" are spoken.  I approve of this.  For reasons that aren't properly telegraphed, they bring back Bernhardt's old master James Hong

Good to see you, Mr. Hong.  I last glimpsed your stern visage in NINJA III: THE DOMINATION.

just to kill him off five minutes later with an exploding telephone planted by evil John Rhys-Davies.  Never mind that this negates the frame story of BLOODSPORT 2 where an elderly Hong reminisced about his life.  Thirsting for revenge, Bernhardt looks up Pat Morita (also briefly reprising his BLOODSPORT 2 role)

 

Morita: 'Thank God I'm only on set for two hours.'

who sends him to train with a new Kumite master, Master Hee Il Cho.  And so Jean-Faux Van Bernhardt embarks on an epic training montage that seems culled almost exactly from another JCVD film: KICKBOXER.

Workin' on the ol' leg extension...

...for the big payoff: the splits!

Naturally this is replete with HELLRAISER-style torture and balanced with TOP GUN-ish homoerotica:

And finally, like Christopher Cross, he learns how to 'charm that snake.'  Unlike JCVD, who simply punches them, Bernhardt waves his hands around and mesmerizes the little fellow.

–"Wow.  'Indiana Jones' much?"

"Definitely.  In fact, this whole movie feels a little 'Indiana Jones' to me, between John Rhys-Davies, the Sri Lankan locales (as in TEMPLE OF DOOM), the elephant rides, the white tuxedos, the snake stuff, et cetera."

–"Would you say, 'INDIANA BERNHARDT AND THE TEMPLE OF KOOM... ITAY?'"

"No.  I would not say that.  So finally we get to the main event.  Rhys-Davies has bet his entire fortune on the big bad fighter named 'Beast,' who kinda looks like a poor man's Mayor Mike Haggar (from FINAL FIGHT).

 

Mayor Mike Haggar...

...and his low rent counterpart, sans bitchin' one-strapped overall, but with the same forest green pants!

Rhys-Davies has also done his damnedest to keep Bernhardt out of the Kumite, an endeavor at which, naturally, he does not succeed."
–"Lay down some Kumite highlights for me."
"Most of the fighters have splendid names, like 'Camacho Supe,' 'Bruce Burly,' 'Chai' (like the tea, I guess), 'JJ Tucker,' and 'Sparx.'  I could go on.  I will go on.

That fight there involves 'Stellio,' which is pronounced like 'Steel-Leo.'

 

This one features freakin' 'MAX OMEGA.'  Whoever was naming these background fighters deserves a raise."

–"Those are pretty good.  You're beginning to pique my interest."

"Yeah.  And speaking of Max Omega, he's played by kickboxer Chad Stahelski, who is a returning fighter––he played 'clown makeup guy' in BLOODSPORT 2, who is totally the same character––he just switched favorite bands from KISS to Cinderella:

 

Max Omega in BLOODSPORT 2...

...and BLOODSPORT III.

There's also a fighter who's allowed to use a whip for some reason

and then there's my personal favorite, the aforementioned 'Stellio.'  Played by UFC fighter Erik Paulson, Stellio kinda dresses in an unlikely fusion between 'Burning Man refugee' and 'roadie for Lynyrd Skynyrd.' 

His acting choices are brilliantly inconsistent (though the blame probably lies with the editor)––for instance, after winning a fight against a throwaway character, he stares down Bernhardt, points at him, and screams, 'YOU'RE DEAD!!!'  

The next time we see him, he's sitting next to Bernhardt in the Kumite waiting area and he throws him a head nod, as if to say, 'Nice job, bro.  We should hang out sometime.'

This is demonstrably fantastic.  Also, later he bites Bernhardt's calves."

–"That's cool."

"I really stand by the Kumite scenes in this movie.  The sound effects are ludicrously goopy––each punch and kick sounds like heads are being squished and hearts are being ripped out of bodies.  And the whole thing is scored by what amounts to a hilariously 'action-y,' ersatz version of Hendrix's 'Foxy Lady.'  Also, despite the nonstop kick-blasting action of the Kumite, the filmmakers felt the need to stick with their frame story, so occasionally we cut to Bernhardt & son on a camping trip and the son will say something like 'Wow, were you scared?' and Bernhardt will say 'No,' and then we cut back to the Kumite."

–"I appreciate that."

"Oh, yeah–––and during one of the frame story cutaways, we learn that Bernhardt's mastery of the 'Iron Hand' technique allows him to light fires with the force of his mind. 

This magical ability is conspicuously not used at the Kumite.  If he could, why didn't he go all 'CARRIE' on their asses?"

–"Oh man, I would totally watch a movie that was like a Kumite of Stephen King characters.  Jack Torrance with his axe, Annie Wilkes with her sledgehammer, Carrie shooting fire..."

"Cujo, the Chattery Teeth, Pennywise, Randall Flagg... Yeah, I could see that working.  I'm going to file the copyright on that right away.  We can call it a 'King-itay.'  

–"Sure."

"Annnyway, we get to see a Double-Split Slap-Battle:

If you can't appreciate the exquisite poetry of a Double-Split Slap-Battle, then there's truly nothing I can do for you.  You are lost. Awash.  Forever at sea, unmoored.  You will never know true joy."

–"No, I'm on board for that."

"Good.  So the Kumite ends up going pretty much how you would expect, and Jean-Faux Van Bernhardt gets to do his best JCVD crazyface while drooling blood,

 

and he's good at it, too.  This is authentic, JCVD-approved crazyface.  Finally, at the end they replay that glorious 'Rhythm of the Kumite' song that closed out BLOODSPORT 2.  And that's all she wrote."

–"I might actually have to watch this."

"I tentatively recommend.  While it commits the unforgivable mistake of not bringing back 'Jackson' (Donald Gibb) as they did in BLOODSPORT 2 (what, was he busy or something?), at the end of the day BLOODSPORT III possesses a fair number of remarkable and spit-take-inducing moments, and some of the best-ever character names of third-string Kumite competitors. I give it three and a half stars."

–"That seems like a lot."

"It's really not. And I eagerly await viewing the next installment (BLOODSPORT 4: THE DARK KUMITE), which has a batshit reputation, seems to steal liberally from DEATH WARRANT, and indeed looks completely bananas."

–Sean Gill