The South Will Never Rise Again

Flashback all the way to the hallowed early 2000's. I still had a stomach for constructs like internet message boards, with one of the best being the one at Patty Mahlon's loving and meticulously constructed William Girdler website. It was on that very board where I first read about a Long Island erotic atrocity known as “Lulu & Friends” aka “Valley Stream Slut.” This film was helmed by a true Renaissance man, Keith Crocker. Keith, in addition to being the man responsible for the fabulous “The Exploitation Journal,” an early and seminal horror/cult zine, he also has directed some of the most unique and balls out features like “The Bloody Ape” and “Blitzkrieg:Escape from Stalag 69.” 

DVD Cover art of Crocker's "The Bloody Ape"

 Getting to know Keith via this message board, I was always impressed with his storytelling abilities, especially when related to his experiences as an independent filmmaker. The stories were often unflinching about the non-glamorous aspects of the business but always were tinged with a wink and a nod kind of humor. In short, they were a fun and terrific read. Out of all the great stories Keith wrote about on that long dead-in-the-ground forum, the tale of his one and only foray into the seemingly seamy world of X-rated film making was as harrowing as it was hilarious. Little did I know that years from then, that I would be watching this infamous film in the comfort of my own living room.

Lulu meets one of her "friends."

Not too long after reading about Keith's tales of “Lulu” and her randy friends, I had also read a review of an equally sexually inept adult film on the Girdler-Board sister-site-of-sorts, the now long defunct Brains on Film. That website's main man, Larry Joe Treadway aka Professor Tread, was one of the funniest and most unique film writers on the internet at that time. Out of the sizable body of review work he built up, it was his write-up of one of the most striking, brain-scratching and life-affirming-in-every-wrong-way-possible films, courtesy of the impressive film library at Something Weird Video. A film that, once seen, will stay with you like a drunken hug from your Southern uncle. That is, if your Southern uncle also happens to be wearing a beat up and stained Halloween superhero costume.

Something Weird Video's DVD release of "Bat Pussy."

The film in question was 1973's “Bat Pussy.” A film so obscure that the odds of its cast and crew ever surfacing are about as good as finding a photo of Frank Sinatra testifying against the Mafia. Dialogue rich with white trash psychodrama bordering on burma shave with the biggest “star” being an issue of Screw magazine, “Bat Pussy” is a film whose description will never do justice to what your eyes and ears will see and hear. I will, of course, though, give it my best shot. (It is a real shame that Tread's review of it is MIA since it has remained one of my favorite pieces of film writing ever, with him describing the movie as “John Waters' Whose Afraid of Virginia Woolf. That might be the most accurate statement ever written about “Bat Pussy.”)

Best SCREW Magazine plug ever!

You may be wondering what do these two films have in common, other than being two extremely low-budget, ultra-obscure adult films? Not much other than a sense of human sexuality going directly past eroticism and into a transcendent netherworld that will leave you mystified, giggling and wondering why your sex drive just took a left turn to Albuquerque and is never coming back!

With “Lulu & Friends,” Crocker was given a lot of unenviable cards in his deck. Sure, his leading lady, our titular Lulu, is enthusiastic and gets an absolute A for effort. Her acting is a bit rough but she does try, with the highlight including a crude and funny spectral encounter. Actually, the women in the film all get an A for trying. One of her friends, a very attractive, dark haired beauty valiantly tries to get her boyfriend, whose bad haircut and horrible taste in underwear just screams coke head late 80's scumbag, to rise to attention. But it's no use. You really just want to reach through the screen and say, “Honey, it's okay. Go shower up and get a nicer man. One whose taste in bikini underwear won't make you instantly question where you're headed in life.” 

Bad decision making.

With “Bat Pussy,” the issue of male virility rendered flaccid despite the near-heroic attempts by giving women comes into play too. Unlike “Lulu & Friends,” where at least some of the couplings actually result in some sort of fruition, “Bat Pussy” is like one mobious strip of bickering and a man, the only man in the whole bloody film, whose failure to achieve any sort of usable erection starts to feel like it s an unintentional metaphor for our failure to ever achieve true greatness in this life. Or maybe he just had whiskey dick. You never know.

In lieu of a pretty brunette, we have our hero's wife, a pale, bouffanted Shirley-type who vacillates between trying to turn on her man and bitching at him. With lines like, “You wouldn't know how to eat pussy if it was your dead grandmother's” (!!!) and “You don't love me, motherfucker!,” you can maybe understand why he is having a bit of a difficult time getting aroused. In fairness to her, what woman wants to hear her redneck amour droning on about how “we need to do this just like in the magazine” and that ever sweet bon-mot, “Darling, she meant nothing to me!”? 

Probably a relative.

At least with “Lulu,” there's a very loosely-restrained feeling of rompiness, rendered all the more surreal by Crocker's absolutely brilliant use of music. Honestly, the music saves a large portion of the sex scenes, which otherwise would be bordering on the unwatchable. Everything from funk classics to some incidental music most famous for being used on “The Little Rascals” movie shorts, all pop up throughout the film, as if it is an act of pure directorial alchemy.

That said, there is one mighty big advantage that “Bat Pussy” has and that is all in the form of its title character. Imagine Batman if he was a cornfed dame whose “lair” was a cement dinge-room, complete with a hobbity-hop in lieu of a car and the rattiest Superhero costume this side of “Rat Fink a Boo Boo.” If the words, instant awesome, came to mind then you would be correct! Here's a character that neither Marvel or DC Comics would want to touch with a 10-foot pole, which is their loss. Bat Pussy is all sorts of foul-mouthed, bent-moral wonder and yet, sadly, not even she can get a happy physical result from our hero. Her classy reaction? “You don't know how to fuck, motherfucker!” I hope this man got some good therapy afterwards, that is if he didn't end up buried under a bridge in Anywhere, Southern USA.

The splendor of the Bat Pussy Headquarters.

At the end of the day, while both “Lulu & Friends” and “Bat Pussy” may fail in the arousal department, they took, intentionally (“Lulu”) and unintentionally (“Bat Pussy”) their individual weaknesses and transformed them into a viewer experience that is as hilarious as it is harrowing and even Artaudian in its regard for the audience. Plus, both are still better than anything Julia Roberts has starred in. (Thank you, thank you and please, tip your piano player!) 

 ©2014 Heather Drain

Simian Madness! A Review of The Bloody Ape

One of the things I love about cinema is the potential for surprise. We live, like it or not, in a culture that is all about black or white. The big fallacy with this is that you end up missing the gray area, which is the richest field of all. Before you start thinking I’m crazy and going all film wanker on you, let me use an example. Scare Their Pants Off. Yes it’s a fun if silly title to a mid 60’s sexploitation film from NYC. Naturally, there are a lot of people who would write if off right then and there as nothing but a silly exploitation film. But if you actually sit down and watch it with an open mind, you will see something that is more weird student art film then anything else.

The Bloody Ape is another one of these great films. One paper, you have what is a loose retelling of Poe’s classic story, “Murders in the Rue Morgue.” Except instead of an orangutan in Paris, you have the titular gorilla raping and killing gorgeous Long Island beauties, with further bad taste ensuing. However, in reality, what you have is a film that is simultaneously a tribute to low budget horror cinema, ala Andy Milligan, and a statement on the dangers of human ignorance. How many films that center around a sex crazed killer ape are gonna have nuance of any stripe?

Shower surprise!

The story is simple enough. You have Paul Richichi as Lampini, your standard sleazy yet charismatic carnival magician whose big ticket is his prized ape. Lampini’s life revolves around his bleached blonde fiancée, Ginger (Arlene Hansen) and his beloved ape. Life is good until Ginger breaks up with him, sending him off the edge, forcing him to utilize his simian sidekick as a tool of his wrath. But of course, man can never truly control nature and things quickly grow out of control.

The Crafty Lampini! (Paul Richichi)

All the while, Duane (Christopher Hoskins), a really nice, young man black man ends up on the receiving end of some ugly racism via one auto mechanic mook, Vic (Larry Koster.) But his day soon goes from bad to worse, when he ends up being accused of murder via the amazingly mentally regressive Lieutenant LoBianco (George Reis). And now the race is on. Will the police wise up to the real killer? Will Lampini have a change of heart? Will the ape stop sexually assaulting voluptuous Northern vixens?

One of the best things about The Bloody Ape is that it is completely unique. While there are definite influences from other horror films, ranging from Romero’s groundbreaker Night of the Living Dead to the infamous Bigfoot flick, Night of the Demon, it is still very much its own creature.

You have some great, schocky gore, including a penis being ripped off from an acid fried hippie. Since turnabout is fair play, a woman’s breasts also get torn off for good measure. There’s amazing carnival footage, complete with colored lights, spinning rides, and shady gentlemen offering crappy stuffed animals and bikini girl photos for prizes. The only thing missing is the half sauced guy running the Ferris Wheel in the Rossington Collins tee shirt, giving soul dirt to every 17-year-old girl within a 2-mile radius.

Don't you miss this?

Of course, there’s plenty of nudity and bad taste shenanigans to make any sleaze horror enthusiast happy. But there is meat underneath the blood and the racism subplot works very well, never veering off into a “very special after school special” episode territory. Part of the reason for that is that it is never ham fisted but instead more an accurate depiction of people using their bigotry as a crutch against having to evolve. Evolution is a mighty scary thing to the small minded and open communication, which is one of the best combatants against ignorance, is not to be tolerated. In fact, even when stereotypes are used in the film, it is more of a form of cheeky subversiveness. Which in the age of political correctness, is needed more than ever. Remember kids, if something makes you think, even if you don’t like it, then it had done its job.

The actors are a lot of fun and appropriately cast. Hoskins is likable and understated as poor Duane. He’s a great contrast to say the almost cartoonishly broad Reis as the Cracked magazine reading, infantile-like thinking Lobianco. Outfitted with a comic book style goatee and a baby face, Reis was the perfect choice for such a buffoonish character. Then there’s Paul Richichi as Lampini, who is fantastic. Director Crocker has referred to Richichi as his “Joe Dallesandro,” which is fitting since he has such an unusual and organic screen presence. Not to mention the absolute relish he has with his role is so entertaining. If anyone deserves a documentary, it is Richichi. Especially after hearing the commentary. (More on that in a minute.)

LoBianco (George Reis) smirks in the face of logic

The rest of the cast are equally fun, including Larry Koster as the most offensive car mechanic in film history who is straight outta Mooksville, Arlene Hansen as the beautiful and ballsy Ginger, and the mysterious Salvatore Finkel as the Rabbi Rabinowetz. Never has the combo of a strap on beard and boxer shorts been more beautifully used. Just like peanut butter and chocolate!

Like any film worth its salt, The Bloody Ape is probably not for everyone. Then again if you are either easily offended or don’t care for low budget horror in general, why would you pick up a film about a horny killer ape?

Wild Eye Releasing has done a beautiful job with this DVD, especially with the extras. In addition to an entertaining little documentary, there’s a fantastic and funny commentary track featuring director Crocker, cast members Paul Richichi, George Reis, and writer/movie guru Rob Hauschild. This track should be a textbook example of how to do an informative track that is nice to listen to. Plus you get one of Crocker’s early shorts, One Grave Too Many, which is a great little gothic appetizer.

The Bloody Ape is the type of horror film I’m a sucker for. There’s enough grue, nudity, and luridness to appeal to my inner Beavis (and yes, my inner child is Beavis) but there is enough layer and substance to reach my serious, cineaste side. It’s a rough-hewn gem that is very much worth checking out.

It's not often one gets to do something they love career wise and it is even more rare to get to share such a thing with some amazing people. I was lucky enough to experience both with the latest issue of Ultra Violent magazine, numero 10! I've been writing for UV off and on for over three years now and it has always been a total joy. But not only are they nice, they also have a staff of great writers too! Plus where else are you going to read interviews with such folks as cinematic godhead Alejandro Jodorowsky, Manson documentarian Robert Hendrickson, articles about Turkish Exploitation, and more great reviews you can shake a stick at.

Not to mention, my interview and article with "Blitzkrieg: Escape from Stalag 69" director Keith Crocker, which was a blast to do by the way. In fact, the whole gang at Wild Eye Cinema deserve some major kudos for being so easy and fun to work with. I do want to give a special personal thanks to fellow UV writer Kate Hutchinson, since she played a major part in me doing this piece. (By the way, you would be depriving yourself some fun if you did not check out her uber-amazing blog, http://tenebrouskate.blogspot.com/)

So if you're looking for a magazine that has great writing and covers the classics of extreme cinema as well as the new films, then feel free to check out the latest Ultra Violent!

http://www.myspace.com/uvmagazine