Film Review: WHITE LINE FEVER (1975, Jonathan Kaplan)

Stars: 4.75 of 5.
Running Time: 90 minutes.
Notable Cast or Crew: Directed by Jonathan Kaplan (TRUCK TURNER, BAD GIRLS, PROJECT X, BROKEDOWN PALACE, 40 episodes of ER). Written by Kaplan and Ken Friedman (JOHNNY HANDSOME, HEART LIKE A WHEEL). Starring Jan-Michael Vincent (AIRWOLF, HOOPER, THE MECHANIC, John Flynn's DEFIANCE), Kay Lenz (AMERICAN GRAFFITI, BIG WEDNESDAY, HOUSE), L.Q. Jones (THE WILD BUNCH, CASINO, BULLETPROOF), Dick Miller (BUCKET OF BLOOD, GREMLINS, EXPLORERS), Slim Pickens (DR. STRANGELOVE, POOR PRETTY EDDIE), R.G. Armstrong (PREDATOR, BULLETPROOF, CHILDREN OF THE CORN, THE FUGITIVE KIND), Sam Laws (TRUCK TURNER, WALKING TALL, THE FURY), Don Porter (YOUNGBLOOD HAWKE, THE RACKET), Leigh French (HALLOWEEN II, TALK RADIO). Music by David Nichtern (THE BIG PICTURE, THE SPIRIT OF '76). Costumes by Lambert Marks (MURDER SHE WROTE, THE MECHANIC, CATCH-22).
Tag-line: "Carrol Jo Hummer--A working man who's had enough!"
Best one-liner: "Don't sass me, you little sonofabitch!"
I had the pleasure of seeing this a few nights ago at the Anthology Film Archives' annual festival, "William Lustig Presents." Many reviews on this site, and indeed many of my favorite movies have been featured at Lustig's series– from ROLLING THUNDER to THE OUTFIT to THE STONE KILLER to DARK OF THE SUN. I urge anyone in the New York area to check out some of these flicks on the big screen- and you just might spot, wandering in and out of the screenings, that steadfast, jovial icon of gritty NYC and true soldier of cinema, Bill Lustig himself! This review shall take the form of a conversation in a squalid Alphabet City alleyway, populated by smoking piles of trash and busted-up, empty cans of Schlitz (and possibly continued from HERE):

"Psssst. Hey bud- you get a kick out those Weng Wengs I hooked you up with?"
–"Yeh, they sure did the trick. I still need to digest 'em. How'd you get your hands on 'em?"
"I got myself a French connection."
–"Oh, yeah? Well, whaddya got today?"
"Trucker movies, my friend. Rare trucker movies. Perfect for those hot summer evenings of chirping crickets and ice cold tall-boys."
–"You got TRUCKIN' BUDDY MCCOY?"
"Sadly, no. But I'll do you one better: WHITE LINE FEVER."

–"Keep talkin'."
"We got a 'docudrama'-style opening. A trucker being interviewed for the local news. Says he's beholden to the banks and the freight companies. Says he carries a gun in case they try and take his truck. Says 'You never know until you're put to the test.' Wise words... and you'd do well to keep 'em in mind. Next up- I love these 70's movies- we got a montage and family album style opening credits sequence. We get all the exposition we need in about a minute and a haff. Soldier boy Jan-Michael Vincent (as Carrol Jo Hummer) comes home to his sweetie-pie, Kay Lenz (as the newly minted Mrs. Jerri Kane Hummer). They're just tryin' to eke out a livin'. Carrol Jo picks up a rig named the "Blue Mule" (for kickin' ass, that is) and Jerri picks up some mind-numbin' employment at the Dr. Pepper factory. It's marital bliss for the 5 or so minutes before Carrol Jo is asked to sacrifice his principles by his handlers."
–"So what happens? Does he give in?"
"Hell, no, he doesn't give in, you shitheel! And damn you for thinkin' that he would. He mounts a fierce fuckin' crusade against the powers that be, from the crooked financiers to the low-down freight-haulers to the corrupt cops and evil shit-brickin' bastards. Some would call this a fool's errand, but if everybody kowtowed and bent over for The Man, we wouldn't have any of the finest films of the 1970's."
–"How's the cast?"
"'How's the cast?' How do you think the cast is?!- the cast is fuckin' great. Jan-Michael Vincent was one of the most promising actors of the decade- THE MECHANIC, BIG WEDNESDAY, DEFIANCE, HOOPER- you name it.

He's a likable presence, and you completely believe that he's the kind of guy who'd hang offa his rig with a shotgun, blastin' away for his God-given right to haul clean, honest cargo.


Then, Kay Lenz is cute as a button, and with a lot more fire. I mean, she was BREEZY for chrissakes- that's the title character in a Clint Eastwood movie!

Kay and Jan discuss family planning.

Then we got Dick Miller, playin' a trucker named 'Birdie Corman.' Did I mention that Kaplan was a Corman/Dante crony? Dante even gets his name dropped- a shipping executive is told that he has an upcoming appointment with a 'Mr. Joe Dante.' Anywho, Miller is great. He's wearin' an open plaid shirt that's so fuckin' big, it looks like a robe. He gets some borderline action scenes, and gets to flash that terrific head-shake/bemused smile look which says 'Damn, that kid's got guts!'
And did I mention Slim Pickens? When he first appears, he's wearing a bolo tie the size'a my fist and some flower-embroidered county western duds that'd make Merle Haggard blush.

He shouts "Well, bless my ass, Carrol Jo!" and immediately tosses him a can of Schlitz from his mini-fridge in his wood-paneled prefab office."
–"This sounds like my kinda flick!"
"Shut it! I ain't done! ...So Slim works as an intermediary between The Establishment and the truckin' buddies. Carrol Jo is a sort of monkey wrench in the works. Before Slim can say "Don't sass me, you little sonofabitch!," they're on opposin' sides of this struggle. But Slim might just have a conscience under that 10-gallon hat after all..."
–"Who else is in it?"
"Don't interrupt- I'm not finished with Slim yet. He gets a great scene where he's speeding down the highway, feeding his secretary-love connection chocolates from a junky drug-store's assortment. It's this kinda stuff that's worth the ticket price alone."
–"So how about–"
"Then we got L.Q. Jones. He's higher up on the chain than Slim. He was one of Peckinpah's favorites, and goddamn there was a reason for that. Here, he's an evil country shitball with a soul patch and a comb-over who lasciviously eyeballs his female employees like there's no tomorrow- and there might be no tomorrow if Carrol Jo catches up with 'im!"
–"Well you've certainly convinced me about the cast. But why do you hold it in such high regard?"
"Alright, listen. This movie was built, brick by brick, from real workin' peoples problems, frustrations, fears, and dreams. This is not some silly Americana shit, made by studio hacks who never really worked a day in their life. This is the genuine article.

Note the obelisks of Schlitz at the left.

The lifeblood is foamy Schlitz and Wild Turkey by the gallon. It's adorned with turquoise jewelry and peppered with more reaction shots than you can shake a stick at. It's dejected women sitting in an abortion clinic, staring at a poster that says 'Love is a fourteen-letter word: Familyplanning.' It's hot asphalt and stale, flavorless gum. It's truckin' stunts and men versus forklifts. It's men and women who are sick of bangin' their heads against the wall while some blubbery fuck in a plush office is gettin' rich offa it.

Plus it's got music that's kind of the unlikely love-child of the scores from DELIVERANCE and TRUCK TURNER."
–"Sold."
"En-joy. Make sure you got enough beers before ya start it, though."
–"Will do."
"And none'a them prissy beers."
–"Alright."
"You know what I'm talkin' about."
–"I do."
"Not even Coors. Coors might be too prissy for this movie."
–"I'll keep it in mind."
"In fact, Schlitz is probably best."
–"I figured."
"Or Lone Star. Lone Star would be okay, too."


-Sean Gill

Junta Juleil's Summer '10 Movie Series
1. HELL IN THE PACIFIC (1968, John Boorman)
2. KUFFS (1992, Bruce A. Evans)
3. THE OUTFIT (1973, John Flynn)

4. FOR Y'UR HEIGHT ONLY (1981, Eddie Nicart)

5. A*P*E (1976, Paul Leder)

6. BLIND FURY (1989, Philip Noyce)
7. HIS KIND OF WOMAN (1951, John Farrow)
8. HIGH SCHOOL U.S.A. (1983, Rod Amateau)
9. DR. JEKYLL AND MS. HYDE (1995, David Price)
10. MIDNIGHT IN THE GARDEN OF GOOD AND EVIL (1997, Clint Eastwood)
11. 1990: BRONX WARRIORS (1982, Enzo G. Castellari)
12. FALLING DOWN (1993, Joel Schumacher)
13. TOURIST TRAP (1979, David Schmoeller)
14. THE THREE MUSKETEERS (1973, Richard Lester)
15. BIG TROUBLE IN LITTLE CHINA (1986, John Carpenter)
16. TOP GUN (1986, Tony Scott)
17. 48 HRS. (1982, Walter Hill)
18. ONCE UPON A TIME IN MEXICO (2003, Robert Rodriguez)
19. TALES OF THE CITY (1993, Alastair Reid)
20. WHITE LINE FEVER (1975, Jonathan Kaplan)
21. ...

Film Review: POOR PRETTY EDDIE (1975, Chris Robinson & David Worth)

Stars: 4.3 of 5.
Running Time: 92 minutes.
Notable Cast or Crew: Shelley Winters, Slim Pickens, Leslie Uggams (Tony award winner, also acted in ROOTS, SUGAR HILL), Michael Christian (THE GREAT GUNDOWN, HARD KNOCKS), Dub Taylor (MR. SMITH GOES TO WASHINGTON, BACK TO THE FUTURE PART III), Ted Cassidy (Lurch on THE ADDAMS FAMILY). Written by sometime CHARLIE'S ANGELS, LITTLE HOUSE ON THE PRAIRIE, and BONANZA scribe B.W. Sandefur.
Tag-line: "All He Wanted Was A Friend."
Best one-liner: "Did he bite you on the titties?"
AKA: BLACK VENGEANCE, HEARTBREAK MOTEL, REDNECK COUNTY RAPE.

Directed by David Worth (KICKBOXER, SHARK ATTACK 3- yes, that SHARK ATTACK 3, also the cinematographer here) & Chris Robinson (THUNDER COUNTY, CHARCOAL BLACK); and marketed as a hicksploitation/blaxploitation revenge flick (REDNECK COUNTY RAPE!), one might assume that they'll know exactly what sort of film to expect. Well, unless you guessed "an utterly bizarre mashup of 60's Euro-arthouse aesthetics (from Bergman to Antonioni) in the milieu of then-recent horror flicks (by the likes of Craven and Hooper) that also happens to be loosely based on the revolutionary 1957 Jean Genet play, THE BALCONY," then you'd be wrong.

Because POOR PRETTY EDDIE is all of those things... and more. Perhaps a better title would have been something like LAST HOUSE AT MARIENBAD ON THE LEFT. (And as an even weirder side note, Shelley Winters also starred in the official 1963 film adaptation of THE BALCONY!)

But, first, let's see if we can hash out a general idea of the plot. On an anonymous, dreamlike football field (I could definitely see this film as being an inspiration for David Lynch), Liz Wetherly (Leslie Uggams) sings the national anthem,

then embarks- via montage- on a road trip/vacation through the seedy back roads of the American South. Out in the wilderness, a gargantuan wheel turns and squeaks and groans, its purpose unknown. Uggams' car dies and she ends up at "Bertha's Oasis," a rat-trap, dead-end dive, run by Bertha (Shelley Winters) who has a propensity for gazing longingly at old Hollywood 8X10s and dressing like a drag queen.

Her kept man and resident Elvis impersonator Eddie (Michael Christian) has eyes for the marooned pop star, and after a few mind-boggling encounters, rapes her repeatedly. She reports the assaults to Sheriff Slim Pickens, whose responses are to

A. Suggestively ask if she'd like to bite a tomato, B., draw dirty pictures on the police report, and C., inquire "Did he bite you on the titties?" and, if he did, could he see the bite marks please if it's not too much trouble.

Then a whirlwind of events ensue, including, but not limited to: a kangaroo court held at a VFW hall and presided over by a man in a Pabst Blue Ribbon T-shirt:


a (literal) shotgun wedding, Slim Pickens beating his full grown son at the (red, plastic, checkerboard tablecloth-covered) dinner table, and Ted Cassidy fed his own dog (as screaming ladies are draped in dog hide) just to bump him down a notch.

OH MY DOG

Yes, this movie is insane, and yes, I think it's terrific.

For a movie which could have easily centered its focus around the staging of rape scenes, POOR PRETTY EDDIE is far more interested in the power dynamics between its characters and the aesthetic delivery of said ideas. The existing relationship between Bertha and Eddie at the film's start is quite fascinating: Bertha is the matriarch of this community- at least until the foundations of her own self-esteem slowly begin to crack.

She's also an insatiable starfucker stuck in a town populated by about two dozen yokels, so she has to make do with what she's got- apparently she's made it her life's work to transform the young, impressionable Eddie into something approximating 'Elvis.'

Perhaps it's this learned, overinflated sense of celebrity and self-importance which leads him to believe that the famous, metropolitan, and most importantly stranded Liz Wetherly will want to drop everything and settle down with a backwoods boy who likes to play dress-up. Of course, in this isolated, middle-of-nowhere sphere, if you want something and you're capable of taking it, and you think you can get away with it- well, then, the world is your filthy oyster.

The rape scene itself is extremely stylized- shot in grainy, slowed-frame-rate slow motion (with distorted, drawn-out audio), we simply see two human forms struggling with one another across a gridwork of bright oranges and deep blues.

This is crosscut with a bevy of Southerners (led by Ted 'Lurch' Cassidy laciviously gazing upon dogs having sex with one another in the mud. And this is by no means the strangest occurrence of vaguely psychedelic cross-cutting in the film. (Upbeat, Karen Carpenter-style pop music and disorienting wide-angle shots often accompany these juxtapositions as well.)

Wait- more whipping in psychedelic montages? What is this- GIRL ON A MOTORCYCLE?

We then enter a hazy world of make-believe, where a camera snapping photos can become a gun, blasting away- an instrument of impossible revenge.



But these are short-lived. POOR PRETTY EDDIE will not indulge your rape-followed-by-revenge fantasies. Something emerges which is a little closer to Stockholm Syndrome, but it's dipped in alienation and deep-fried in violent slowmo dream logic- it's like we're peering through a window and seeing a glimpse of Sam Peckinpah's flickering nightmares. I am aware that this review appears to be making less and less sense as it goes along, but that's simply the state of mind to which POOR PRETTY EDDIE lends itself. "Their cookie jar done been removed and the cookies taken care of..." says a local who's apparently referring to the act of rape. Slim Pickens schlerps on a tomato, Shelley Winters takes a drag of her smoke from an impossibly long cigarette holder, there's a nauseating makeout session, somebody says "What's that juicy pickininny doin' in my cabin?," there's a Baltimore reference (was John Waters somehow involved?...I would believe it), there's homage to Tennessee Williams, Shelley blurts out "I need some more vodka," the wedding march is played out of tune on a fiddle, there's a final coup de grace of absolute and utter brutality, and then the movie simply... ENDS. Maybe the print I saw was edited, but it just ends. No credits, no distributors, no nothin'. Cut. Blackness. And somehow that is the perfect finale to a movie whose simultaneously low and high brow batshit craziness approaches a sort of twisted avant-garde backwoods perfection. Amen.

-Sean Gill

Film Review: THE WHITE BUFFALO (1977, J. Lee Thompson)

Stars: 3.5 of 5.
Running Time: 97 minutes.
Notable Cast or Crew: Charles Bronson, Will Sampson, John Carradine, Jack Warden, Slim Pickens, Kim Novak, Ed Lauter. Music by John Barry.
Tag-lines: "Two legendary enemies unite to fight the charging white beast!!" and "YOU WON'T BELIEVE YOUR EYES!"

Part Dino De Laurentiis creature feature, part trippy Western, and part Charles Bronson shoot 'em up, THE WHITE BUFFALO failed to please the fans of any of those subgenres, and thus fell into obscurity. In actuality, it's a rather solid movie. Charles Bronson, decked out in 19th-Century shades and packin dual pistols in his sash, plays Wild Bill Hickok.

Most people in movies wake up from nightmares screaming. Bronson wakes up with guns blasting away, and thank God no one was in the top bunk.

Does he sleep while holding them?


Bronson: not at his best when tormented by visions of a white buffalo.

The nightmares involve a murderous white buffalo which has been manifesting itself in reality by destroying Native American villages.

The buffalo sequences involve gigantic puppets and expressionistic indoor sets full of snow, fir trees, and ominous shadows (think the maze in THE SHINING).

Some say hokey, I say atmospheric. There's well-written, mostly authentic Western banter ("You're up shit crick without a bull boat," "It's coldern'n a hooker's heart"); a mysteriously entrancing John Barry score; an appropriately douchey Ed Lauter (Shrike in DEATH WISH 3) as Tom Custer;

Jack Warden as Bronson's racist, irascible sidekick; Slim Pickens as a whacky wagon driver; Kim Novak as an old flame; John Carradine as a stately undertaker (see the same role, albeit sleazier, in THE SHOOTIST);

and Will Sampson as a humble warrior (who may just be a famous historical figure in disguise).

Costume possibly purchased at a souvenir shop.


Bronson threatens to thrown a man out of a moving carriage for using the word "friggin" in front of a lady. Yes, that seriously happens in this movie. (And the man is indeed thrown from the carriage and promptly killed by Native Americans.)

There's a few solid shootouts and some Bronson-esque detours, but the main thrust is the epic hunt for the buffalo, as if Jack London had written MOBY DICK. As far as trippy Westerns go, this was clearly a huge influence (aesthetically and thematically) on Jarmusch's DEAD MAN, and, frankly, I even prefer it to something like Jodorowsky's EL TOPO, as it never employs the ole "weirdness just for weirdness' sake." Three and a half stars.

-Sean Gill