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Showing posts with label SBIG. Show all posts
Showing posts with label SBIG. Show all posts

Monday, March 16, 2015

Killer Workout (1987)

... aka: Aerobicide
... aka: Aerobi-Cide
... aka: Aerobic Killer

Directed by:
David A. Prior

People were wearing legwarmers, leotards, headbands and spandex... out in public! Olivia Newton John's 1981 hit “Physical” became one of the top songs of the entire decade. People were watching Bodies in Motion, ordering their Suzanne Somers-endorsed Thigh Masters and buying nearly everything Denise Austin, Jake Steinfeld and Richard Simmons were selling. There were exercise videos from such celebrities as Debbie Reynolds, Cher, Traci Lords, Linnea Quigley, Marie Osmond, Sally Struthers and, of course, the undisputed queen of the movement, Jane Fonda, who sold in excess of 17 million copies of her various workouts. All these were just some of the symptoms of the big fitness / aerobics craze that swept through America in the 80s. Of course now it's about the polar opposite and we seem just fine being told that we're fat, lazy and eat too much McDonalds, but back then if you weren't running around in a leotard and tights (ladies) or short shorts up to your armpits and mesh muscle shirts (guys) and Jazzercising your free time away, you were an undesirable social leper who shouldn't even bother leaving your own home. I guess it was only a matter of time before someone combined all of that nonsense with the big 80s slasher craze. I'm kind of glad they did cause this movie is a cheese-filled laugh riot. Actually, there's almost too much glorious 80s cheese in this one... even for me!


Up-and-coming model Valerie, whose face is never shown, lands a gig that will see her flying to Paris and gracing the cover of Cosmopolitan. On her agent's suggestion, she then immediately runs off to a salon to begin work on her tan. After getting inside the bed, it short circuits, catches on fire and she's fried. Years later, a series of mysterious and brutal murders (mostly committed with a giant safety pin!) start plaguing at a California health club called Rhonda's Work-Out. First up for slaughter is - shocker! - the gym's only black member, Rachael (Teresa Truesdale), who gets stabbed to death in the shower and then stuffed inside a locker after her work-out. Hard-nosed, obnoxious detective Lt. Morgan (David James Campbell, SCARECROWS) soon shows up to investigate matters and begins questioning both the staff and the gym regulars.







Among the chief suspects is the conservatively-attired club co-owner Rhonda Johnson (Marcia Karr), who's decidedly not a very nice young lady. OK, well actually she's an extremely unpleasant, bitter, jealous, hate-filled, constantly-scowling bitch who stands around glaring at everyone and gives her airhead aerobics instructor Jaimy (Teresa Van der Woude) an especially hard time. Rhonda is constantly stressing about her business failing and becomes even more wigged out when numerous freshly-slain corpses turn up all over the place and her clientele starts dwindling. Jaimy proves to be something of a weirdo herself. When she drops her purse, more condoms fall out than cosmetics, and she's caught sneaking into the men's locker room to fondle a jock strap. Rhonda constantly rides Jaimy for her tardiness but also for simply doing her job: “Just teach the class and stop showing off your tits and tight little ass!” Rhonda could have told the director the exact same thing as this movie seemingly exists to show off the tits and asses of a bunch of toned, big-haired 80s babes. I suspect most viewers won't have an issue with that.






Another of the chief suspects is pushy gym rat Jimmy Hallick (Fritz Matthews), who spends more time ogling and propositioning the ladies than he does actually working out. And then there's Diane Matthews (Laurel Mock), owner of the locker the first corpse was stuffed into, who's something of a loner who's jealous of the other ladies for scoring more than she does. Much to Rhonda's displeasure, the hunky Chuck Dawson (Ted Prior) shows up there to work. She didn't hire him, but the other guy who co-owns the club did and now she's stuck with him so she makes him clean the toilets. Chuck turns out to be an undercover cop that the other detective investigating the murders apparently knows nothing about. Not sure how exactly that scenario worked out, but whatever. Though Chuck's presence there may be in question, he's no dummy and takes time out from looking into the killings to score with Debbie (Dianne Copeland) aka the chick with biggest rack at the health club. Before they get down to business, Debbie informs him that Jimmy “likes to tie girls up and do weird things.” So many suspects, so little time...







This is a truly awful movie. The acting is terrible, the dialogue is terrible, the editing is terrible, the plot is dumb as hell, the overpowering score frequently drowns out the dialogue and the identity of the killer is utterly predictable, and yet, I loved every second of this trash! Things move right along from one hilarious scene to the next following a winning three step formula. Step 1: Show one to three people being viciously murdered. Step 2: Follow that with a scene where the corpse is put in a body bag and carried away as our detective hero stands around sulking. Step 3: Finally, throw in a brilliantly-photographed aerobics dance routine lasting several minutes. (Note: By brilliantly-photographed, I mean the cameraman focuses on bouncing breasts, thrusting and grinding crotches and, of course, “tight little asses” in skin-hugging thong workout attire nearly the entire time). And repeat. At certain points, the makers seems in on the joke. After hauling the twelfth or so corpse away, a paramedic casually turns to the detective and says “See you tomorrow, lieutenant!"






Another scene worth mentioning involves a a trio of disgruntled customers who decide to vandalize Rhonda's studio with spray paint before they're all killed off. Along with “Aerobicide,” they also spray “Death Spa” on the building. The same year this film was released, production was underway on another aerobics / health club horror called DEATH SPA. Coincidence? Probably not, but despite having less gore and less nudity, this is actually way more fun to watch than the dreary Spa.

Solidifying the 80s charm are a a ton of upbeat pop / rock / disco / dance songs on the soundtrack, all done by female vocalists, with cornball lyrics like “Love is a four-letter word when we do it like we do” and “She's a knock out... Let her rock out... Scream and shout!” and, of course, “Hey baby, I got the apple... red and juicy, waaaarm annnnnnd sweet.” There's even an Aerobicide theme song (“Aerobi-ciiiiide. Workin' out until you diiiie. Aerobi-ciiiide. It's the perfect body you're trying to fiiiiind.”) Most of these are so bad they may cause your ears to bleed, but I genuinely loved a few of the songs, including “Woman on Fire” by Jill Colucci (who'd become best known for singing the America's Funniest Home Videos theme song "The Funny Things You Do") and “Only You Tonight” by Donna De Lory (who worked as a backing vocalist for numerous famous singers, including a two-decade-long stint backing Madonna on her various tours).







Not long after making this, his third film, director Prior became well-known as a direct-to-video action movie specialist. His primary interest in that genre as opposed to horror is obvious throughout this one. There's a policeman pursuit scene that lasts an eternity and three poorly choreographed fights between the two musclebound leads. Prior's brother Ted, who began his show biz career as a nude model in Playgirl Magazine, is featured in most of these action scenes and, along with Matthews, also gets credits for stunts, set design and special effects. The brothers Prior would go on to make many other films, usually shot in and around Mobile, Alabama, and continue on to make them to this day. The only other recognizable cast members are Joel Hoffman (SLUMBER PARTY MASSACRE II, Pumpkinhead) as Brad the weightlifter, and Kelly Ann Sabatasso, who became a tabloid fixture in the early 90s when it was rumored she was dating Donald Trump, as one of the featured aerobics dancers.





Originally filmed as Aerobi-cide (a title retained for some foreign releases), this was distributed on VHS here in America by Academy under the title Killer Workout. There's no official DVD release as of yet but someone out there needs to throw together a 2 disc release containing the movie and the soundtrack album so I can buy it.

SBIG

Wednesday, March 11, 2015

Madam Satan (1970)

... aka: Madame Satan

Directed by:
Tom Gordon

In the early 70s, sex and Satanism went together like peanut butter and jelly. I'm not quite sure why that was, but there was a huge number of both hard and soft core sex films that centered their action around the occult, devil-worshippers, Satan and / or hell. Maybe the appeal was the combination of two societal taboos together after the recent erosion of censorship; sort of like a “Ha! Look at what we can do now and you can't do anything about it!” type of thing. Maybe audiences at the time were more turned on when their sex was blended with darker subject matter. Maybe it was just backlash from the recent success of such occult-themed hits as ROSEMARY'S BABY (1968). Or maybe they simply didn't know what else to do plot-wise and buying plastic horns, capes, candles and red light bulbs were just cheaper than the alternatives. The one recurring theme with these movies however is that nearly all of them are no budget, rock bottom, horribly made, horribly acted, barely-plotted and pretty much terrible in every way possible. This cycle certainly hit its crescendo with the hardcore classic The Devil in Miss Jones (1973); an anomaly in this subgenre in that it's a legitimately good movie. It may even be the only Satanic sex movie from this period that's any good at all. If there are others, I guess I just haven't stumbled upon them yet.





Five people, two men and three women, arrive at psychic Madam Cobra's (Linda Vroom) home and are let in and then seated at a table by her slow-talking half wit butler Igor. As they await the psychic's arrival, the camera zooms in on each guest's face, goes out of focus and then we learn a little more about them via flashback. “What in the hell am I doing here?,” wonders Jim Jackson (Richard Smedley) before we backtrack to his bedroom a few days earlier where he's woken up by Susan (Susan Westcott, from SEX PSYCHO) and then coerces her into the sack (“Why don't you slip into something more comfortable... like... my bed.”) Unbeknownst to Jim, Susan is actually in cahoots with his Uncle; a publisher who wants to expose Cobra as a fraud and fake spiritualist. The Uncle wants Susan to pose as “Lola Fontaine” and pretend like she wants the psychic to contact the ghost of her dead sister in order to collect an inheritance.





The other male guest, John, who looks a lot like Jeff Kober, then has a crazy recollection about having a red-hooded man burn his junk with a lit candle during an initiation rite to join “The Psycho Club.” Janet (Barbara Mills) isn't given a flashback at all but her friend Maggie (Pamela Westcott) is, which recalls how her past relationship ended...

Maggie
“I'm a virgin and I'd like to stay that way till I'm married!”

Larry
“I'm beginning to think you are frigid. 
You just don't want me to know until our wedding night in case I call off the wedding.”

Maggie
“Oh honey, you know that's not true!”

Larry
(pouncing on her)
“Then give it to me!”

Maggie
(running away)
“Nooooo!”

Larry
“Bitch!"

Blonde psychic Cobra finally shows up promising to give them “an experience you shall never forget.” She lays out the pre-seance ground rules (absolute silence, no breaking the chain), smoke rolls and suddenly everyone's sitting on the floor in a circle naked. Cobra, now wearing a black wig, announces herself as Madam Satan and tell them she's there to teach them “what sin is all about!” Everyone's led down a dark hallway by the whip-cracking butler until they meet a bearded, pot-bellied Satanic priest (James Mathers) who preaches and has his hooded servant Huntz give them “the elixir or lust.” Before everyone else can get down to business, “The Ritual of the Virgin” must be performed on you-know-who, which involves her being laid out on a table and the priest and Igor “anointing” her “loins.” Everyone else has sex in various combinations, except for Jim, who's chained to a wall and forced to watch. One of the big issues is that no one - not even a girl giving him oral pleasure while another girl sits on his face giving another guy oral pleasure - can get John excited. Not even Madam Satan, the “Queen of Sin” herself, can't get a rise out of the guy in the traditional way, so she chains the “little pervert” to the wall and whips him. When that doesn't work, she shoves a dildo up his ass (“Is this what you prefer?”) and the problem is finally solved.





I doubt this hour-long soft X sex flick is gonna be revving many engines these days, but that's not a problem. These no budget 70s oddities attract more of a cult fan following than they do avid porn watchers, anyway. Fans enjoy them because they're ineptly made and acted, gritty, grimy, grainy, dirty, sleazy, tasteless, outrageous and incredibly, impossibly cheap. This one happens to be all of those things. The camera is shaky and constantly zooms in and out, the canned jazz score is grating, the editing is awful and all of the action takes place in one home against blank white walls and in mostly barren rooms with just a bare minimum of props and furnishings. The séance room consists of a card table with a candle in the middle, folding chairs sitting around it and a cloth draping of an English lion (!?) on the wall, while hell has a mattress on the floor, a chain and that damn English lion draping again. Other props are just carried into the room from off-screen when needed.






In other words, pretty much everything going on is embarrassing and pathetic... but dammit if this thing isn't also incredibly funny at times. Sometimes the laughs are intentional, sometimes they're not, but that's not really important. What truly matters is that this is jam packed with ridiculous, crazy moments for bad movie fans to sink their teeth into. It's also packed with simulated sex and full male and female nudity. Once the cast lose their clothes they don't get them back until the last couple of minutes, meaning they're forced to enact this entire ridiculous scenario standing around naked, which itself becomes pretty hilarious. The acting is mostly terrible, but in that great, enthusiastic way, with Mathers and Vroom camping it up in an entertaining fashion. Male lead Smedley was a veteran of Al Adamson movies like Psycho a Go-Go (1965) and Brain of Blood (1971) and makes hilarious facial expressions during his love scenes. The only person receiving on-screen credit is the director / producer. There's not even a copyright anywhere to be found on the print.






I couldn't find any information about this title online aside from an Australian record that someone attempted to release a 16mm print there in 1974 but it was banned due to "indecency." I also couldn't find a single theatrical poster nor any advertising materials. According to IMDb, it was first distributed on VHS by Class X Video though, again, I could not find a video box to verify this. What is verifiable is that it made its DVD debut through Alpha Blue Archives, who've included it – along with 11 other devil / occult-themed soft and hardcore sex films - on their 4 disc set “Satanic Sickies Box 2.” In 2013, a company called After Hours Cinema also included it on a 3 film set called “Satan's Sex Party."

SBIG
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