Bad Cinema Diary TM
The “L” Pages from Ladies to Lust
LADIES OF THE LOTUS (1986 - Canada) dir: Lloyd A. Simandl & Douglas C. Nicolle; w/ Richard Dale, Angela Read, Patrick Bermel, Darcia Carnie. Some skin; a lotta lingerie. Fashion models are being abducted & shipped off as sex slaves, and the only one who can save them is a well-meaning peeping tom. Or some such drivel. Okay, the flick’s only real purpose is to show some young ladies in lacey undies, but they really didn’t have to punish the audience for it. The music sucks, the photography sucks harder, the acting sucks like a black hole, and the script sucks like the supermassive black hole at the center of the Galaxy of Cosmic Suckiness. It’s not merely a bad script, it’s an annoying, insulting paste-up job of half-baked ideas, throw-away characters, snapped story threads, and utterly unexplained plot points. And the ladies in their undies? I’m afraid that part isn’t much better. I’ve seen cornfields photographed with as much erotic artistry. Yet another finger-down- our-throat by Simandl. LADY DRAGON 1 & 2 see the Cynthia Rothrock page
LADY FRANKENSTEIN (1971 -- Italian/Brit) prod & dir: Mel Welles; w/ Joseph Cotten, Sara Bay, Paul Muller, Peter Whiteman, Herbert Fox, Mickey Hargitay. It’s a little boring at the start, but hang on, the second half is totally deranged! Guess what -- Baron Frankenstein had a daughter who also trained as a copyright©2009 Bruce V. Edwards Bad Cinema Diary TM surgeon. When the monster kills her father, she carries on his work, trying to restore the Frankenstein reputation. In that pursuit, she seduces the baron’s wimpy assistant into letting her transplant his brain into the body of a hunk (whom he has to murder first, of course). She sets her sights on being the ten-ton queen bitch of the universe. This flick’s even got a vague homage to the original -- the monster grabs a girl & tosses her into the river... but this girl is adult & naked. Not at all a waste of time for sufficiently perverse viewers.
LADY IN A CAGE (1964) dir: Walter Grauman; w/ Olivia de Haviland, James Caan, Jennifer Billings, Jeff Corey, Ann Sothern. A rich old lady gets stuck in her home elevator and she is helpless as vicious hoodlums ransack her house. It mixes social commentary & mindless violence in a rather predictable way, and on the whole is slow & preachy. There are some very good characters, & the cast gives terrific performances -- the script even has a glimmer of an original, wicked little twist. However, nothing is really made of it and the whole thing grinds to an undramatic halt. An interesting flick, even if a little unsatisfying.
LADY JAYNE, KILLER (2003 - aka Betrayed) prod & dir: Mark Lester; w/ Erika Elaniak, Adam Baldwin, Julie du Page, James Remar. No skin; no gore. A sexy lady assassin has just ripped off the mob and decides to get out of town by hitching a ride with a suburban mom & her teenage son -- well, I suppose they never said she was a smart assassin. And the flick turns out to be more about the tough little mommy trying to protect what’s left of her family from mobsters and crooked cops. Elaniak is only slightly embarrassed in the wholesome mom role, while Baldwin seems to have spent the flick sleepwalking. However, du Page is excellent as the delicious but sadistic hitlady -- it’s just too bad she had to waddle through a bonehead script that’s the sort of thing one would find at the bottom of an old file cabinet. She does have fun with the role, but it’s not near enough to rescue this flick from the depths of mediocrity.
copyright©2009 Bruce V. Edwards Bad Cinema Diary TM LADY SCARFACE (1941) dir: Frank Woodruff; w/ Dennis O’Keefe, Judith Anderson, Frances Neal, Mildred Coles, Eric Blore. A tough-as-nails fem leader of a holdup gang is pursued by a detective cliché who is in turn pursued by a lady reporter cliché. Things get sticky when a case of mistaken identity is thrown into an already bungled payoff drop. Although Anderson’s great performance has to be considered wasted on this, the flick does have a small touch of originality and a few nice moments. A near miss in its genre.
LADY SNOWBLOOD (1973 - Japan) dir: Fujita Toshiya; w/ Kaji Meiko, Kurosawa Toshio, Daimon Masaaki. No skin; lotsa blood. In Meiji Japan, a young lady is conceived, born, and trained from birth to exact merciless revenge for the death of her family. It's an oddly lyrical tale of vengeance and violence... and its influence on Tarantino's Kill Bill is obvious. There is not a tremendous amount of action in the flick, but what's here is painted in blood -- and weaving it together is an effective drama of lost souls and cast-off regrets. It certainly does everything you would expect from a manga-based exploitation film, but then does the unexpected by actually being a damn good movie.
LADY SNOWBLOOD 2: LOVE SONG OF VENGEANCE (1974 - Japan) dir: Fujita Toshiya; w/ Kaji Meiko, Harada Yoshio. One bit o' skin; mild gore. The sequel finds our lovely walking meat slicer stumbling into a den of revolutionaries, and so she becomes... a political activist. Oookay, I didn't see that one coming. Really, this seems like someone else's movie, with our lady dropping in to kill a bunch of people at the climax. While it is a very good looking film, the plot is feeble and the fight scenes are, for the most part, rather ordinary. Still a decent flick, but quite a let-down after the first film.
copyright©2009 Bruce V. Edwards Bad Cinema Diary TM LADY TERMINATOR (1988 - Indonesia - aka Revenge of the South Seas Queen; Nasty Hunter) dir: Jalil Jackson (aka H. Tjut Djalil); w/ Barbara Anne Constable, Christopher J. Hart, Claudia Angelique Rademaker, Joseph P. McGlynn. Tidbit o’ skin; mild gore. An eel slides up her vagina and so she’s possessed by the spirit of a horny witch out for revenge. She’s off to ice some descendant of an old enemy, but in her spare time, she seduces guys and lays ‘em & slays ‘em (simultaneously, thanks to her now eel-powered vagina). But then she turns out to be unstoppable by mere bullets because they really wanted to turn it into a juvenile rip-off of Terminator, even to the point of copying entire scenes (except with less budget and no talent). Yup, it’s cheap and senseless and there’s nothing in here that can be appreciated at face value. So thank goodness for incompetent filmmaking, awesomely bad dialogue, and a cast of people who will never know what it is like to act. Really, this is a hilarious piece of crap; it’s been a long time since I’ve seen a movie bad enough to keep me laughing out loud -- I needed that. Movie quote: the terminatrix has been bombed, blasted and burnt to a cinder and now she’s stomping around shooting laser beams from her eyeballs and slaying everyone in sight... so the good guy says, “Keep shooting! I thinks she’s weakening.”
LAKE PLACID 2 (2007 - for TV) dir: David Flores; w/ John Schneider, Sarah Lafleur, Sam McMurray, Cloris Leachman. A tidbit o' skin; mild gore. Some really big croc's eat half the cast (and that doesn't amount to much). They try to dress this up like an 'A' flick, and it is competently made and does have very nice photography. But it's all sunk by trite characters (and a dull cast to play them, some of whom fail miserably to disguise their eastern European accents), cheap CG critters, minimal locations, and script that can only be this unoriginal by deliberate design. Not only does it lack originality, but it is devoid of excitement, humor, and anything else that might have made it worth the time. The crocodiles of the world are deeply insulted.
copyright©2009 Bruce V. Edwards Bad Cinema Diary TM the LAND THAT TIME FORGOT (1975) dir: Kevin Connor; w/ Doug McClure, John McEnery, Susan Penhaligon, Keith Barron, Anthony Ainley. A U-boat & some castaways discover a prehistoric island... something almost interesting happens and then the island blows up. The script just sort of ambles along, and the monsters -- well, to be fair, they’re very nicely done puppets & full- size mock-ups, but they’re just puppets & mock-ups and they look really lame. (Okay, they’re better than the garbage in Land Unknown, but it’s still hard to get scared by a T. Rex that looks like Barney with teeth.) the LAND UNKNOWN (1957) dir: Virgil Vogel; w/ Jock Mahoney, Shawn Smith, William Reynolds. A research helicopter over Antarctica stumbles into a Jurassic Park -- unfortunately, it’s already occupied by a loony from a previous expedition (not to mention the usual toothy critters). The script isn’t bad at all, but the story drags and the dinosaurs stink. The plywood & bailing wire T Rex, in particular, is pathetic.
LARVA (2005) dir: Tim Cox; w/ Vincent Ventresca, Rachel Hunter, David Selby, William Forsythe. No skin; a smidge o’ gore. The new veterinarian must go up against distrust and the Evil Corporation when experimental cattle feed turns ordinary parasites into a swarm of bat-like munch-monsters that proceed to devour the town. Yup, it’s yet another Boaz Davidson MFTV critter flick, and like most of them, it’s fairly well crafted and pursues formula slavishly. Its only brush with originality comes from straying even further from scientific plausibility than the usual flick of its ilk. However, unlike many similar movies, the script here at least keeps the action going and the critters have a truly prodigious appetite. It’s quite watchable, especially if you’re fond of chewy li’l beasties.
LASERBLAST (1978) dir: Michael Rae, prod: Charles Band; w/ Kim Milford, Cheryl Smith, Gianni Russo, (Keenan Wynn, Roddy McDowall, & Eddie Deezen in bits). No skin, no gore. copyright©2009 Bruce V. Edwards Bad Cinema Diary TM Some nifty stop-motion aliens leave behind a superweapon on Earth. Of course, the local unappreciated dork kid (whom the audience won’t like any better than the townsfolk do) slowly finds the weapon and the pendant that powers it. Of course, he slowly uses it to work out his pathetic adolescent frustrations. And some guy wanders around slowly and is never really explained. And lots of cars blow up -- in slow motion. But the power of the pendant is slowly turning the poor dork into a zombie. So the nifty stop-motion aliens have to come back to clean things up. Slowly.
LASER MISSION (1990 - US/Germany/South Africa - aka Soldier of Fortune) dir: Beau Davis; w/ Brandon Lee, Debi Monahan, Ernest Borgnine. No skin. Stoopid movie. The US government calls in an ultra-cool freelance super-spy to recover a kidnapped scientist. What follows is a series of brainless and tedious action scenes that take place in some weird amalgam of all third world countries. The script is infantile and the villains are right out of Disney, complete with idiot henchmen. See a VW bus outrace the entire Cuban army; see our hero only mildly inconvenienced when a bullet hits him in the back and exits his bellybutton. Put it on the video shelf between your kid’s Barney movies and Thomas the Tank Engine. LASH OF THE SCORPION See Medieval Fleshpots 2
LAST ASSASSINS (1996 - aka Dusting Cliff 7) photo & dir: William H. Molina; w/ Nancy Allen, Lance Henriksen, Scott Lincoln, Dean Scofield. No skin; no gore. There’s this Unexplained Bad Guy and he tries to kill this Nice Assassin Lady he trained -- ‘cause, like, she’s too nice or something. But then Unexplained Bad Guy kidnaps Nice Assassin Lady’s daughter and she has to stop him from getting some bad thing out of a secret nuclear waste facility in the desert (that is guarded by two schmucks and an old padlock). And then there’s this old Indian guy who is very wise. Or some such tripe. Rarely has it been my privilege to witness a script so completely bereft of logic. Every other thing the characters say or do violates something they said or did two minutes earlier, and you can bloody well forget copyright©2009 Bruce V. Edwards Bad Cinema Diary TM about backstory, cause & effect, and the laws of physics. Just get used to things like elevator shafts just happening to be open & empty, and villains showing up only at the most convenient moments. Worse yet, Nancy Allen is tragically unconvincing in her tough hitlady role -- she barely looks capable of leading the local PTA. I would have laughed more at this -- but I just felt so sorry for everyone. the LAST DAYS OF POMPEII See the Silents page.
LAST LIVES (1997) dir: Worth Keeter; w/ C. Thomas Howell, Jennifer Rubin, Billy Wirth, Judge Reinhold. No skin; mildest gore. A criminal psychopath from a parallel world finds the duplicate of his lost love in our world, so he & his gun-happy henchmen run off with her. Meanwhile, the lady’s lover & would-be rescuer has nothing to fight these extradimensional goons with except a bit of alien technology -- he has eight “lifebands,” each will work once to restore life to his body after he’s been killed. Sounds kinda nifty, but there’s a warning flag right at the beginning. Trash cinema veterans know the warning signals of a dud film; one of them is when the first screen of the opening credits carries a title proclaiming: “A (director’s name) Film”, when said director was strictly the director and not involved in writing or producing (especially when said director gets most of his jobs from the Power Rangers). Somebody is taking this way too seriously. To be fair, it’s well made, but I believe the biggest faults lie in the pacing and the concept. It tries to be moody & dramatic but only gets as far as being slow & predictable. And perhaps they should have gone for a hero who could do a few things right instead of just some guy who keeps allowing himself to be killed. The flick is mildly amusing, but also mildly dull.
LAST MAN ON EARTH (1964) dir: Sidney Salkow; w/ Vincent Price, Franca Bettoia. Slightly marred by low (Italian) production values, this is nonetheless an outstanding adaptation of Matheson’s “I am Legend”. The photography is moody, the script is tense, and Price puts in one of the finest performances of his career. the LAST OF THE SECRET AGENTS (1966) prod & dir: Norman Abbott; w/ Marty Allen, Steve Rossi, John Williams, Nancy Sinatra, Lou Jacobi. No skin, no laughs. copyright©2009 Bruce V. Edwards Bad Cinema Diary TM Two American chumps in France are used as patsies by an art theft ring, so the Good Guys Institute recruits them as double agents. The nightclub comedy duo of Allen & Rossi were regulars on variety shows in the 1960’s, this spy-spoof is their first feature film. And it is not an auspicious beginning. It’s a polished production with some good talent that is saddled with an unfunny cowpie of a script. It’s always trying to be kooky and campy, but lacks style and imagination. Heck, it lacks a sense of humor. Only the most devoted Marty Allen fans need bother.
LAST OF THE WARRIORS (1989 - Canada - aka Empire of Ash 3) dir: Lloyd A. Simandl & Michael Mazo; w/ William Smith, Melanie Kilgour, Ken Farmer. A tidbit o’ skin; no gore; no plot. The bad religious zealots of post-apocalyptic New Idaho are doing, um... some bad stuff. And there are some nice people who are fighting them. Sort of. If you weren’t paying attention, you might think this was a sequel to Maniac Warriors (Empire of Ash 2, 1988), but all Simandl really did was to re-use characters, chunks of script, props, & costumes to make another flick that was kind of different, almost. Whereas Maniac Warriors at least made a stab at plot, this one doesn’t even work that hard. All we get is a mixed bag of fight scenes, cannibal chases, a couple of exploding cars, and two meager nude scenes. And then a very rushed & undramatic ending that seems as if it was squeezed in when they realized they only had a few feet of film stock left. It’s not actually a movie, just a bunch of cheap footage slapped together. If people ever actually paid money to see this thing, they should contact the police -- they’ve suffered the cinema equivalent of being sold swamp land in Florida. LAST OF THE VIKINGS See the Sword & Sandal pages. the LAST SUNDOWN (1975 - aka Six Women) dir: Mike Bennett; w/ Mikel Angel, Marsha Jordan, James Sweeney, Lila Rue. A passel o’ nudity; no gore. Six Old West prostitutes are run out of town by the hypocritical preacher -- their journey to the territorial jail is filled with hardship, degradation... and lots of softcore sex. It’s a nudie western with a weak-kneed script that ambles along like a heavily padded episode of Gunsmoke -- except with boobs. The production values are spotty at best -- the acting varies from capable to laughable, the half-hearted attempt at costuming includes a lot of modern clothes, and although the photography is good, it also includes several nice shots of the horses trotting down the dirt road... clearly tromping in the fresh tire copyright©2009 Bruce V. Edwards Bad Cinema Diary TM tracks left by the camera car in front of them. It’s sorta cute, actually, but the frequent nudity was barely sufficient to keep me from snoring. the LAST WARRIOR (2000 - filmed in Israel - aka The Last Patrol) dir: Sheldon Lettich; w/ Dolph Lundgren, Sherri Alexander, Joe Michael Burke, Rebecca Cross. No skin, no gore. The world is shattered by a great Global Quake, and good- hearted Dolph is trying to salvage his little piece of it, caring for misplaced mall shoppers and the remnants of the U.S. military, whilst battling diseased mutants and a wacko gang of escaped convicts, and somewhere in the wasteland is this black woman with mysterious powers and a busload of kids. Huh? Actually, that makes it sound more interesting than it is. I’ll give the script credit for being lively and providing good characters & dialogue, but the story just bounces from hell to breakfast and back again without actually getting anywhere in particular. It’s sorta like the A-Team. Except dopier and more juvenile. Pretty much a complete waste of time.
LASTIKMAN: UNANG BANAT (2004 - Philippines) fir: Mac C. Alejandre; w/ Mark Baurista, John Estrada, Danilo Barrios, Cherie Gil. No skin; no gore. A dweeby teen gets slimed by a magic tree and becomes a super-stretchy hero who can save Manila from crooks, werewolves, and, of course, the arch-villain made super- stretchy by the same rather indiscriminate tree. Another Mars Ravelo comics character, his powers obviously mimic Plasticman, but everything else in this version parallels the first Spiderman flick. And although it’s a silly comics movie, there are some oddly mismatched elements -- such as the brutal murders of several children. But as far as the fun level, this is a complete zero. There is a bit of poorly choreographed action (handled mostly by cheap CG animation), but 99% of this thing is just a sleepy soap opera -- without subtitles. So except for those who speak the language and have a desperate yearning to watch the daily lives of urban teens in Manila, the appeal of this flick lies solely in the exercise it will provide your fast-forward finger.
copyright©2009 Bruce V. Edwards Bad Cinema Diary TM LATITUDE ZERO (1969 - Japan - aka Latitude Zero: Military Tactics; Atragon 2) dir: Ishiro Honda; w/ Joseph Cotten, Cesar Romero, Akira Takarada, Masumi Akada, Richard Jaeckel. Intrepid deep-sea divers encounter not one but two undersea kingdoms, and one of them is really quite naughty; so they join the super- science good guy to battle the maniacal villain and his army of guys in goofy monster-suits. It's an unabashed descendant of the old matinee serials, complete with sterling heroes, a cackling mad scientist, laser gloves, flying subs, and surgical monstrosities. And packed with enough shameless nonsense that you can have plenty of fun with it, whether you choose to go with the flow or try for non-stop heckling. That, and you can watch Cesar Romero have more fun than is legal in most countries.
the LAUGHING DEAD (1996) writ & dir: Patrick Gleason; w/ Patrick Gleason, Fern Finer, John Hammond. No skin; mild gore. A strung-out junkie without a memory wakes up in a nightmare world that’s been turned into a slaughterhouse run by a vampiric predator. As the junkie wanders the lawless streets, he begins to learn that he may not be one of the good guys. This independent vanity project shines for its talent, but disappoints in the execution. The filmwork is good and the ideas are original, but Gleason failed to provide an actual story to go with it. It’s just some nifty ideas that don’t hang together very well and are wrapped up in an ending that is not merely weak, but rather silly if you stop to think about it. The flick is worth viewing for its originality and those nifty ideas, just don’t expect it to take you anywhere. copyright©2009 Bruce V. Edwards Bad Cinema Diary TM LEECH WOMAN (1959) dir: Edward Dein; w/ Coleen Gray, Grant Williams. In the first part, we get this African episode where they discover this hidden tribe’s secret of rejuvenation (and we are treated to a slew of the most clumsily plastered stock footage -- it only makes the studio scenes more glaringly obvious that they’re in a studio), then a second part where the titular female, addicted to youth, finds she must murder to maintain her illusory beauty. Okay, promising material, but it’s pretty flat. And it isn’t helped by the fact that everyone in this film is selfish, shallow, and would betray their own mother at the drop of a hat.
LEECHES! (2006) dir: David DeCoteau; w/ Matthew Twining, Josh henderson, Stacey Nelson, Michael Lutz. No skin; no gore. When leeches latch onto steroid-pumped swim team boys, they grow into Uber-Leeches that start slurping up the student bodies. This is a DeCoteau flick, and although there's no actual homoerotic activity, he does spend about half the camera-time exploring the sleek young male bodies. On the plus side, the flick wastes no time trying to be credible -- it's just a cheesy bowl o' killer leeches -- but sadly, nowhere near as much effort is spent on the rest of the film as on the adoration of pectorals. The script is dull, the characters are duller, the low-budget critter attack scenes are accomplished with frenetic cuts and strobe lighting, and even the attempt at a twist ending is a dreary afterthought. If you like to ogle the swim team boys, this thing may offer some meager value -- aside from that, it's a complete waste.
LEGACY OF SATAN (1976) writ, ed & dir: Gerard Damiano; w/ Lisa Christian, John Francis, Paul Barry. No skin, but some cheesecake; no gore. A sexy housewife has satanic PMS and then the devil- worshipper wants her booty -- can they overcome the magic glowing sword wielded by the dorky husband to live naughtily ever after? Damiano, whose regular job was porno, delivers an infantile script with a plot no sober mind could appreciate and dialogue almost as good as Ed Wood’s. The photography is bad, the sound is lousy, there’s an annoying soundtrack full of what copyright©2009 Bruce V. Edwards Bad Cinema Diary TM happens when untrained hands get hold of a synthesizer, a lot of bad 70’s pop-art and some truly diabolical wallpaper. I can’t say for sure what was going on during the filming, but it certainly looks like an object lesson in why you shouldn’t drop acid and make movies at the same time. Of course, that may be its saving grace -- the only fun here is provided by the bad acting, worse dialogue, and blatant incompetence.
LEGEND OF THE PHANTOM RIDER (2002 - aka Trigon: The Legend of Pelgidium) dir: Alex Erkiletian; w/ Denise Crosby, Robert McRay, Stefan Giersach, Zen Gesner, (Angus Scrimm bit). No skin; no gore. In a small town in the Old West, a hapless frontier lady is caught up in the recurring battle between good and evil. Apparently, her bit is to summon a deformed but honorable unearthly gunslinger to take down the suave but ruthless unearthly villain. Well, um, the production is very polished with good technical merit all around -- excellent art direction, costuming, etc. Unfortunately, it’s also quite dull. The plot never does find its focus, let alone provide us with much content, and it plods along with deliberate pacing and numbing predictability. The cast isn’t bad, for the most part, but they’re not up to clawing their way out from under material this trite. Denise Crosby, in particular, isn’t going to act her way out of has-been status with a performance like this. The flick has some unusual and promising elements, but it doesn’t actually deliver much. the LEGEND OF THE SEVEN GOLDEN VAMPIRES (1974 - Britain/Hong Kong - aka The 7 Brothers Meet Dracula) dir: Roy Ward Baker; w/ Peter Cushing, David Chiang, Julie Ege. A tidbit o’ skin; mild gore. Dracula occupies the body of a Chinese monk and stirs up trouble with the local vampires in a remote Chinese village. Fortunately, Van Helsing also happens to be in China, and with the aid of the 7 brothers & 1 sister of Kung Fu, he puts the kibosh on Dracula once again. Hammer studios, in a misguided attempt to update their stock, teamed with Run Run Shaw to produce this garbled mix of traditional Hong Kong skull-splittin’ and Transylvanian neck-nookie. Schizophrenic from the start, with action scenes provided by Shaw studios, and Roy Baker trying to direct something that will tie it all together, it ends up looking like two separate movies being intercut at random. But what the heck, you’ve got Kung Fu fightin’, goofy-looking vampires with copyright©2009 Bruce V. Edwards Bad Cinema Diary TM ping-pong eyeballs, tons of gratuitous zombies (played by Chinese extras who can’t seem to decide if they should shamble for the European audience or hop for the Asian audience), and some half-naked girls tied to a sacrificial altar. A perfect recipe for drive-in nonsense. The Seven Brothers Meet Dracula is the title for an alternate cut, perhaps intended for Asian audiences but also seen in the U.S. -- it is slightly abbreviated & re-arranged, and, if possible, even more nonsensical than the European cut.
LEGENDARY PANTY MASK (1991 - Japan) dir: Takafumi Nagamine; w/ Miyuki Katori, Kanako Fujitani, Yoko Oshima. No skin; no gore; no brain cells. A young lady who is actually a young man wanders into a Wild West all-girl town ruled by man-killing nuns who possess the power of the refrigerated coffin. He/she finds a protector in the mysterious lady avenger who wears lingerie on her head. After some stuff that makes even less sense, the nuns are slaughtered in a climactic song & dance number. And all of this appears to be an elaborate promotion for a soft drink. I can’t speak for the state of mind of the filmmakers, but this flick made me feel like I was seriously stoned. The script by comics legend Go Nagai seems determined to offend sensibilities, upset expectations, and jam an ice pick into the left ear of Reality. Which I really have to respect, actually -- but it was damned disorienting. Of course, it was also a lot of fun -- provided you don’t mind flirting with mental disease.
LEGION OF IRON (1990) Prod & dir: Yakov Bentsvi; w/ Kevin T. Walsh, Erika Nann, Camille Carrigan, Reggie De Morton. No skin, no gore, no nuthin’. A high school football captain & his cheerleader sweetheart are kidnapped to serve as slaves in a psycho gladiator cult, where the jaded rich bet on deathmatches. This thing just begs to have lots of gratuitous skin (it even looks a little awkward in avoiding showing any), but all it has is a hero who is an unconvincing geek, a heroine who is a weak slut, and a villainess who overacts. The gunplay during the big breakout scene is low-budget and so badly edited that trying to match the sound effects & squibs to the guns is like watching the dialog in a badly out-of-sync kung fu flick. With neither good action nor gobs o’ nudity, this thing is pointless.
copyright©2009 Bruce V. Edwards Bad Cinema Diary TM LEGION OF THE DEAD (2001) (2001 - US/Germany) writ & dir: Olaf Ittenbach; w/ Michael Carr, Russell Friedenberg, Kimberly Liebe, Matthias Hues. No skin; mild gore. Two loser hitchhikers face death from a serial killer! But you can forget all about that -- it doesn’t have anything to do with the two gray-suited undead accountants (bickering like an old married couple) who are wandering around town killing people. But you can forget all about that -- it doesn’t have anything to do with the bar where the losers meet the babe whose face turns into one big mouth when she gets pissed and the devil/undead-master/bad-guy who shoots up the bar ‘cause he wants the face-mouth babe. But you know, you can just forget all about that, too... There is some talent showing here; there’s a little humor and imagination, the photography and fx are good, and the cast puts in some very nice work -- but since the writer/director paid no attention to the first half of his job description, the whole thing is a mighty pointless exercise. Any given scene in this flick only has the most tenuous relationship with any other scene -- watching this movie makes about as much sense as spending 90 minutes watching a sleeping dog twitch.
LEGION OF THE DEAD (2005) (2005) writ & dir: Paul Bales; w/ Claudia Lynx, Courtney Clonch, Rhett Giles, (Bruce Boxleitner bit). Tidbit o’ skin; mildest gore. An ancient Egyptian tomb in California (yup) is discovered by an archaeologist with an uncertain fake accent. With very little fanfare, the wicked queen of undeadness is raised; she’s a half- dressed hottie who zaps guys’ souls to reanimate her “legion” of a half dozen not-too-bright mummies. Only the little lady who’s good with hieroglyphs can save us now. Okay, it’s hardly original, but the technical quality is rather good and they do a nice job of keeping up a pulp-adventure pace. However, the script is too much of a blunt instrument for it to get very exciting, much less scary. And it’s a toss-up as to which is least convincing: the plausibility or the characters. Still, if you keep your standards low enough, it’s mildly fun.
copyright©2009 Bruce V. Edwards Bad Cinema Diary TM the LEMON GROVE KIDS (1965) writ, prod & dir: R. D. Steckler (as Ted Roter); w/ Cash Flagg (Steckler), Carolyn Brandt, (Coleman Francis cameo). No skin; no gore; no sense. This is an anthology of three short “episodes” featuring the wacky exploits of the Lemon Grove gang -- they fight off an alien invasion, rescue a movie star from kidnappers, and have a foot race with a rival gang. Filmed by Steckler in his own neighborhood, it’s an odd attempt at juvenile, madcap comedy that wants to combine elements of the Bowery Boys, Our Gang, and the Three Stooges. It doesn’t often succeed, but the filmmaking is nothing if not exuberant. The plot content amounts to perhaps 60 seconds per episode, the remainder being simplistic slapstick that appears to be aimed at preschoolers, but the third episode contains elements that are probably not appropriate for a young audience. It’s one of Steckler’s more watchable films (provided you can get past the atrocious music), but there’s still more amusement in wondering just what the heck was going on in Steckler’s head than in the film itself.
LEMORA: A Child’s Tale of the Supernatural (1973 - aka Lady Dracula; Legendary Curse of Lemora) dir: Richard Blackburn; Lesley Gilb, Cheryl Smith. No skin (almost); mildest gore. An innocent young girl finds herself trapped in the home of a lady vampire and her gang of undead munchkins. Will her Christian faith give her the strength to resist the seduction -- not to mention all the zombie/werewolf things running around? Well, there’s no denying that this flick scores a few hits -- the art direction & sets are excellent; and they work hard to create the right atmosphere and there are a few genuinely good visuals in here. However, the direction, scripting, & performances are all clumsy, obvious, and in the end, insubstantial. The script borrows a lot of notions from Lovecraft & others without actually doing anything constructive with them. And then the girl does an awful lot of “running through scary dark places” that I suppose they meant to be suspenseful but damn near put me to sleep. The flick appears to be a stab at an artsy-psychodrama sort of vampire flick -- but all they got was a little nice footage without an actual movie to wrap it around.
copyright©2009 Bruce V. Edwards Bad Cinema Diary TM the LEOPARD MAN (1943) prod: Val Lewton; dir: Jacques Tourneur; w/ Dennis O’keefe, Isabel Jewell. From the novel Black Alibi by--? In a small New Mexico town, two show people match wits with a clever murderer who uses an escaped leopard to cover his crimes. A low budget, but stylish and intelligent thriller.
LEPRECHAUN (1993) writ & dir: Mark Jones; w/ Warwick Davis, Jennifer Aniston, Ken Olandt, Mark Holton. No skin; some gore. A wicked leprechaun ends up in North Dakota looking for his lost gold. Naturally, he terrorizes the usual cast of cookie-cutter characters, including the spoiled Valley Girl and the hometown hunk. This doesn’t really break any new ground in the genre, but it does have humor and imagination going for it. I have to give the flick credit for relying more on wit than on body count, and it succeeds in being sufficiently entertaining.
LEPRECHAUN 2 (1994) dir: Rodman Flender; w/ Warwick Davis, Charlie Heath, Shevonne Durkin, Sandy Baron (Clint Howard bit). One boob-shot; very mild gore. Not so much a sequel as a completely different tale involving the same wicked leprechaun. This time he’s hunting down a pretty young girl as his unwilling wife. The girl’s boyfriend & his con-man pal try to save her from a fate worse than bad sequels. Well, it doesn’t totally suck, but it’s just a ho-hum flick with the usual throw-away characters. The only bright spot is the gleeful performance of Warwick Davis as the demented leprechaun.
LEPRECHAUN 3 (1995) dir: Brian Trenchard-Smith; w/ Warwick Davis, John Gatins, Lee Armstrong. One bit o’ skin; mild gore. This time the little bugger shows up in Las Vegas, a magic coin is loose in a crooked casino, and a young chump catches a blood disease from the leprechaun copyright©2009 Bruce V. Edwards Bad Cinema Diary TM and starts turning into a leprechaun himself. The production values are still pretty good, and it has some neat characters, but the script has devolved into a random string of horror-movie gags and trashy sophomoric humor. Not a complete waste, but it fails more often than it succeeds. The other performers give him more support this time out, but Warwick Davis’ hammy performance is once again the only thing to commend here.
LEPRECHAUN 4 IN SPACE (1996) dir: Brian Trenchard-Smith; w/ Warwick Davis, Brent Jasmer, Jessica Collins, Tim Colceri. One flash of skin; no gore. Fast-forward a hundred years and the homicidal leprechaun is the target of a squad of interplanetary mercenaries. They blow him up once, but he gets reborn as a marine’s penis. Meanwhile, a cybernetic scientist is trying to drain the space princess of her blood.
LEPRECHAUN (5) IN THE HOOD (2000) dir: Rob Spera; w/ Warwick Davis, Ice-T, A. T. Montgomery, Rashaan Nall, Red Grant. No skin, a very little gore. A trio of ambitious young rappers stumbles across a magic flute that will lead them to the big time -- if they don’t get wasted by the bad-ass music boss they stole it from and the Leprechaun who wants it back in the first place. This flick’s only good point is the acting -- it was a pleasure to see superb performances from a very good cast. However, the film itself loses its way . There is no real horror and very little action. There are some attempts at gonzo humor sandwiched in between attempts at gangsta seriousness, but none of it actually works. Many of the kills occur off-screen in what may be a misguided attempt to upscale the flick, but is more likely a sign of an insufficient budget. It’s a distinct disappointment after the riotous fourth flick.
copyright©2009 Bruce V. Edwards Bad Cinema Diary TM LETHAL FORCE (2002) writ, prod & dir: Alvin Ecarma; w/ Frank Prather, Pat Williams, Cash Flagg, Jr. No skin; a bunch of goofy gore. The evil mastermind-guy threatens his family, so the assassin-guy must fight his own best friend, the super- assassin-guy -- lots and lots of people get stomped into puddles. Hey, it's a kooky comedy spoof of all those killer Kung Fu action shoot-em-ups -- it's just like The Matrix and Kill Bill and Adam-12 all rolled into one! Or rather, it gives itself a groin sprain trying to be that. It's a micro-budget amateur indie with some talent and, um, some not. To be fair, I did enjoy watching this, but I felt it worked much too hard to sell its own humor. Still, if you've already had too much beer by the time the opening credits finish, you'll probably get a big kick out of this one.
LETHAL TARGET (1999 - Canada, filmed in Czech Rep.) prod & dir: Lloyd A. Simandl; w/ C. C. Costigan, Kim Dawson, Josh Barker. Some skin & a little sim-sex; mildest gore. A tough cop-babe is released from the prison-planet (she was unjustly set up, of course, but that whole schtick only exists so that Simandl can re-use sets & costumes from Chained Heat 3) and sent on a mission to rescue a spaceship. The ship had been doing research on interdimensional travel and it apparently brought back a monster that killed a lot of people (and that part only exists so that Simandl can re-use as much footage as possible from X-tro 2). But when she arrives on the ship, everything is calm and it seems to have been converted into some sort of sex clinic. And for the next hour the script just sort of drowns in its own vomit and we watch some people fondle each other and take their clothes off. And then some stuff blows up and the movie, mercifully, is over. Fully half the footage here is ripped from Simandl’s other flicks or is repeated footage from earlier in the film (“dramatic” flashbacks). Which might not be so bad, because what is original in this thing pretty much sucks. Another shameless scam by Lloyd Simandl.
LIANE, JUNGLE GODDESS (1956 - W. Germany) dir Eduard von Borsody; w/ Marion Michael, Hardy Krüger, Reggie Nalder. A teeny bit o’ skin; no gore. copyright©2009 Bruce V. Edwards Bad Cinema Diary TM First, we wade through several minutes of stock footage of African wildlife. Then we’re treated to a lot of footage of topless native girls (stock boobies? -- pointless by today’s standards, but in the 50’s, they were the flick’s major selling point). And then a safari discovers a tribe of savages led by a topless blonde babe. So they immediately whisk her back home to Hamburg, where she spends the bulk of the flick looking cute & clueless in the middle of an inheritance dispute that turns nasty. It’s sort of a plodding little soap opera and the characters have less depth than a coffee stain -- but it’s such a schmaltzy, unassuming piece of fluff, that it ends up kind of endearing. A trifle boring and a lot dumb, yes, but still cute.
LIGHTS OF NEW YORK (1928) (1928) dir: Bryan Foy; w/ Helene Costello, Cullen Landis, Mary Carr, Wheeler Oakman. Some nice kids from the sticks get squeezed by con- men and gangsters on the cruel streets of the big city -- and it's every bit as sticky a morality play as that sounds. As opposed to the partial-sound flicks that preceded it, this was apparently the first full-length “All-Talking Motion Picture” -- and it's a grim harbinger of things to come. Built on minimal sets and with the worst cast they could find, it also shows how early sound technology set cinema back a few years. With the static camera-work and actors huddled around the microphone reading their lines off of cue cards, the storytelling here resembles a radio play more than anything cinematic. Interesting strictly as a historical novelty -- unless you get your jollies by making fun of bad actors. the LION OF THEBES See the Sword & Sandal pages. LISA, LISA See Axe.
LITTLE MISS THOROUGHBRED (1938) With Ann Sheridan, John Litel. Cute little Janet Chapman tries to capitalize on Shirley Temple’s popularity in this thinly disguised ripoff of Little Miss Marker. A nice enough little movie, ‘though clumsily edited. Chapman is cute, but doesn’t have anything like the presence of Temple, and the plot is pure formula sifted to its least believable essentials. copyright©2009 Bruce V. Edwards Bad Cinema Diary TM LITTLE WITCHES (1996) dir: Jane Simpson; w/ Mimi Reichmeister (aka Mimi Rose), Sheeri Rappaport, Zelda Rubinstein, Jack Nance. A tidbit o’ skin; one brief, mild gory bit. Those randy young girls at the catholic girls’ school are hard enough to handle most days, but when one of them discovers a forbidden book in a hidden room, she progresses from being merely naughty to being a demon-summoning bride of the devil. Well, the sets are good and the cast is excellent, but the script just sort of saunters along vainly trying to cover up the fact that nothing much happens for the longest time. And then, of course, we’re rushed through a limp climax featuring a brief glimpse of a snarly-faced demon-thing. Rather a criminal waste of material.
LOCH NESS TERROR (2008 - Canada, for TV - aka Beyond Loch Ness) dir: Paul Ziller; w/ Brian Krause, Niall Matter, Don S. Davis. No skin; mild gore. Nessie moves into Lake Superior to bring up her babies and so they start eating tasty humans; and along comes the Tough Guy (who survived a Nessie attack as a child) to hunt her down once and for all. This is a well made but entirely typical Critter Flick. The fx for the monster are rather good, but the script and the characters are painfully idiotic. For fans of chompy-toothy beasties, it is suitably entertaining without actually escaping mediocrity. If you're not a fan, there's nothing to see here. the LODGER (1944) dir: John Brahm; w/ Merle Oberon, George Sanders, Laird Cregar. While Jack the Ripper is terrorizing London, a respectable couple begins to have unsettling suspicions about their strange upstairs tenant. This doesn’t attempt to be historical, but is a complete rewrite of the Ripper legend. Given that, it has a tight and suspenseful script, a great cast and outstanding, artistic photography. A very well done, old- fashioned thriller. See also the remake Man in the Attic. copyright©2009 Bruce V. Edwards Bad Cinema Diary TM LONDON AFTER MIDNIGHT See the Silent Movie page. the LONG HAIR OF DEATH (1964 - Italy) dir: Anthony Dawson (aka Antonio Margheriti); w/ Barbara Steele, George Ardisson, Halina Zalewska. Teensiest flash o’ skin; no gore. A slow and byzantine tale of medieval murder and revenge, with Barbara as a temptress from the grave. The plot, although intricate, lacks substance; and although the set is terrific, it’s the only set they’ve got -- it feels rather like a cramped stage play. And would be entirely forgettable without Barbara Steele. the LORELEY’S GRASP (1976 - Spain - aka When the Screaming Stops; Grasp of the Lorelei) writ & dir: Amando de Ossorio; w/ Tony Kendall, Helga Line, Silvia Tortosa. Microscopic bit o’ skin; some cheap gore. The ancient Lorelei rises once again from the Rhine to consume the hearts of her victims. But in an age of non- believers, she discovers hunky love. Will the hunter hired to protect the girls’ school stop the monster or make whoopee with it? The plot saunters along and sticks to formula, and adds a little nice cheesecake along the way. The most notable feature of the flick is its fabulous cheapness -- the sfx makeup consists of a Halloween mask & gloves and the gore is provided by scrap rubber and tomato sauce. Oddly, however, I kinda liked the flick. It’s unpretentious and the concept of reviving an old Germanic myth is original and effective. It’s nowhere near as good as Ossorio’s Tombs of the Blind Dead, but is still sorta fun if you like this stuff.
LOST (2004) (2004) writ & dir: Darren Lemke; w/ Dean Cain, Danny Trejo. No skin; no gore. He’s thoroughly lost on the backroads of Nevada... with a trunk-load of stolen money which he earnestly believes is his ticket to the copyright©2009 Bruce V. Edwards Bad Cinema Diary TM good life. But he’s crossed the wrong people and just keeps taking wrong turns -- and that includes more than just the roads. This is a fine one-man show for Cain, and he carries it quite well. Unfortunately, this promising flick feels a whole lot longer than it really is. The script is indulgent and takes way too much time telling its tale, and the tedium quickly overpowers the tension. Aside from the pacing, it’s very well put together -- but it’s still a bore. the LOST CITY See the Serials page. the LOST EMPIRE (1983) prod, writ & dir: Jim Wynorski; w/ Melanie Vincz, Raven de la Croix, Angela Aames, Angus Scrimm, (Kenneth Toby & Angelique Pettyjohn in cameos). A small bit o’ skin; no gore. A super-cop babe, a Native American warrior babe, and an ex-con babe -- put ‘em together and you’ve got six miles of cleavage. They’re on a mission to combat the supernatural forces of an immortal fiend bent on conquering the world! But instead, they jiggle their boobs and wind up in a dorky rip-off of Enter the Dragon (exceptionally dorky, since it’s laughably obvious that none of the contestants could fight their way past Mister Magoo). Crappy sets, crappy dialogue, even crappier acting, and nowhere near enough nudity to make up for it. However, it’s not a complete waste -- Wynorski tried to keep tongue in cheek. Most of the jokes are awfully lame, but enough of them work to lend the film a faint aura of cuteness (my favorite was the UL approved phallic laser cannon).
LOST IN A HAREM (1944) dir: Charles Riesner; w/ Bud Abbott & Lou Costello, Marilyn Maxwell, John Conte, Douglass Dumbrille. Bud, Lou & their compatriot lady singer get mixed up in a struggle for the throne of a desert kingdom -- Jimmy Dorsey’s orchestra doubles as the sheik’s marching band. This has a big-budget sheen to it, thanks to left-over MGM sets & way too many Follies-style dance numbers. I am an Abbott & Costello fan, and I’ll watch just about anything with them in it. Except for this piece of crap more than once.
copyright©2009 Bruce V. Edwards Bad Cinema Diary TM the LOST SKELETON OF CADAVRA (2003) writ & dir: Larry Blamire; w/ Larry Blamire, Fay Masterson, Andrew Parks, Susan McConnell. No skin; no gore. Scientists, meteors, aliens, mutants, dancing catgirls, and enough clichés to sink New Jersey. This flick strains its every frame to celebrate and lampoon those schlocky films of the fifties. If you’ve ever secretly desired a corny-dialogue enema, this is your flick. Some folks enjoy this sort of spoofery and the film has its fans. However, I found it just too self- absorbed and too monotonous; although there’s enough talent here to ensure some real humor, it wears damn thin pretty damn fast. There’s a curious arrogance in thinking you can be “bad” on purpose -- usually you end up just being... well, bad. the LOST TRIBE see the Jungle Jim Page the LOST WORLD (1925) See the Silent Movie page. the LOVE CAPTIVE (1969) writ & dir: Larry Crane; w/ Charlotte Russe, Jaqueline Ricardo, Collette Alexander. Oodles of skin & soft-sex; no gore. Fair warning: I am trying to be coherent here, so pay attention -- this lady arrives in Greenwich Village and gets locked inside a museum of the macabre after hours. So she sits down and watches two chubby ladies and a werewolf do a phenomenally bad go-go act. Later, all the ladies wind up at the hotel where they have sex with random men. And the cops are broadcasting taped psycho-warfare messages through the walls. Then a tough broad takes over the museum of the macabre and forces all the ladies to go to the hotel and have sex with random men. And then some guy winds up chained naked in the closet as a sex slave. The End. The filmmakers were apparently stoned beyond recovery, and the flick itself is so mind-warping it should be regulated as a psychoactive device. The photography is rudimentary and the sound is all bad post-production dubbing & a rambling narrator, while somebody’s LP collection provides the score. Only one of the women is any sort of a looker, and the men need training in basic hygiene. This is the sort of low-rent sleaze even a two-dollar hooker wouldn’t stoop to. But if you’re a fan of drug-induced filmmaking, this has to be on your list. copyright©2009 Bruce V. Edwards Bad Cinema Diary TM the LOVE CULT (1966) dir: T. A. Dee (Barry Mahon) w/ Rita Bennett, Lucky Kargo, Sharon Kent. A little skin; no talent. A two-bit hypnotist decides to cash in by creating his own religion based on sex. Although this movie's only reason for being is titillation, it is given a veneer of faux- decency by playing out as a dead serious tragic morality play, complete with self-righteous narration. The titillation, however, is minimal thanks to meager displays of skin and a photographer who thinks he can do art. And everything else is built on the production values of a back-room stag reel, and with almost as much script. So what we get is a sex film dull enough to put a frat house to sleep. Even for the historian interested in a sample of the clean & coy sleaze of the sixties, this one is a bit more punishing than is strictly necessary. LOVE FEAST See the Ed Wood page.
LOVE FROM A STRANGER (1937 - aka A Night of Terror) dir: Rowland V. Lee; w/ Ann Harding, Basil Rathbone (Joan Hickson bit). Based on an Agatha Christie tale. When a nice young lady wins the big lottery, the new money comes between her and her boyfriend -- but a slick con-man moves in and marries her in a whirlwind romance. The flick wastes way too much time on a treacley melodrama before it begins to show its dark streak. It turns out that the smooth gigolo is after much more than her money. Almost too late, the young bride discovers that only her own quick thinking can save her from becoming a serial killer’s next victim. After wading through the congealed first half, the second half becomes a taut thriller with some good twists. And when the killer finally drops his façade, Rathbone obviously delights in the role and delivers a creepily effective portrayal of a woman-hating, megalomaniacal, homicidal fruitcake. If you can forgive the dullness at the beginning, it’s a pretty good flick.
LOVE SLAVES OF THE AMAZONS (1957 - filmed in Brazil in color) prod, writ & dir: Curt Siodmak; w/ Don Taylor, Gianna Segale, Eduardo Ciannelli. No skin. copyright©2009 Bruce V. Edwards Bad Cinema Diary TM Following the lead of an obsessed wino, an American archaeologist travels deep into the jungle and finds a tribe of ferocious white babes who, it turns out, need to periodically capture a white male archeologist, dope him up with drugs, and keep him as a “breeder”. Veteran screenwriter Siodmak actually pens an interesting tale, and there is some great dialogue -- however, the flick is still full of dopey jungle padding, pointless jungle pirates, an all-male mud-wrestling extravaganza, silly comic relief, and a really bad and really long “dance of the amazons”. It deserves to be a better known dish of cheese. Although there is nothing naughty put on screen (the hero even takes a bath with his pants on), the very open drug and sex-slave content guaranteed that it would never be seen on US television. A rare curiosity, and an excellent addition to anyone’s trash cinema collection. the LOVES OF HERCULES See the Sword & Sandal pages. LOVES OF IRINA See The Female Vampire.
LURED (1947 - aka Personal Column) dir: Douglas Sirk; w/ George Sanders, Lucille Ball, Charles Coburn, Boris Karloff. Scotland Yard is stumped by a serial killer who lures young women through the personal ads. So they recruit a sharp-as-a-tack yankee redhead as bait -- she stumbles through a series of false alarms until finally uncovering the real killer -- or does she? The first part of this flick is a very deftly handled comedy/suspense; then it changes tempo once the murderer is known and they have to set about proving it. The characterizations are more than a little shallow, but overall, the script is well crafted and delivered by a strong cast. Karloff’s role is a brief but delightful cameo as a clothing designer who has completely flipped his wig. And Lucille Ball, of course, carries the first half of the show almost single-handed. I think this flick deserves to be better known; it’s a great showcase for the cast and is a delightful movie.
LUST FOR A VAMPIRE (1970) Hammer -- dir: Jimmy Sangster; with Ralph Bates, Yutte Stensgard. Some skin; a little blood. It is well-done and has many of the trademark Hammer elements -- some good characters & good performances. The script, however, tends to wander around and copyright©2009 Bruce V. Edwards Bad Cinema Diary TM even repeats itself at one point. We even get something vaguely like soap-opera situations and a special song! On the whole, the film lacked the action & tension one would expect from Hammer. It does have considerably more skin than the average Hammer film, although not enough to qualify it for “nudie” status. Whether this is enough to make up for the movie’s failings depends on your mood, I suppose.
LUST FOR FRANKENSTEIN (1998 - US/Spain) writ, prod & dir: Jess Franco; w/ Michelle Bauer, Lina Romay, Analia Ivars. Lots of skin, no gore. Well, this bloody guy mumbles some, there’s some way too artistic photography, and there’s so much bad reverb on the dialog that it didn’t matter much what language they were speaking. The modern Spanish descendant of the original Frankenstein has died and his young wife is mourning by getting laid by the hired help on an hourly basis. The doctor’s daughter by a previous marriage returns home and stumbles across her father’s last creation (played by Michelle Bauer in nothing but stitches & elevator shoes) -- so they make love and after a few murders live happily ever after. At least that is the story that I imagine was happening in between the really long softcore sex scenes. More than anything else, what this really looks like is a Jess Franco home movie that got too big for its britches.
copyright©2009 Bruce V. Edwards Bad Cinema Diary TM The Bad Cinema DiaryTM - 6th edition July 2009 This file is part of the Bad Cinema DiaryTM eBook; it is copyright ©2009 by Bruce V. Edwards, all rights reserved. The Bad Cinema Diary is copyrighted but provided free of charge. These files are published under the Creative Commons Attribution-Noncommercial-No Derivative Works 3.0 License; see http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc-nd/3.0/ For the latest editions and access to all the files, visit the Bad Cinema Diary at http://www.cathuria.com/bcd Icon Glossary:
Good Stinker -- These are the films where a good deal of the entertainment comes from filmmaking incompetence; fun to watch in spite of themselves.
Gooey Gore -- These films exhibit distinctly above-normal quantities of unpleasantly abused body parts.
Naughty Nudie -- Films with this flag feature frequent and/or explicit nudity (almost always female) beyond that normally found in your average T&A flick.
Butt Stompin’ -- These films feature at least one superior violent fight or shootout scene that will get the testosterone pumping.
Gold Star -- These are the flicks that I felt reached above their expectations or at least pleasantly surprised me; they may not always be actually good flicks, but I did find something in them worthwhile.
Blue Max Medal of Really Goodness -- These are flicks that I not only enjoyed, but I think are actually quite good films (not always the same thing).
Lethal Cinema -- These wretched viewing experiences go beyond being merely bad to become genuine sources of pain and regret; they should be avoided by all but the most masochistic trash cinema veterans. Don’t say I didn’t warn you.
copyright©2009 Bruce V. Edwards