Russ Meyer (1922-2004) was a true crackpot original as a filmmaker. He began as a combat cameraman during World War II. He went on to be centerfold photographer for Playboy magazine. Russ cobbled together $24,000 and made his first feature- The Immoral Mr. Teas in 1959, a “nudie cutie” about a nerd constantly running into a series of large-breasted women. It’s success at the box office catapulted Meyer into the “King of the Nudies” with features like Eve and the Handyman (1960) and Wild Gals of the Naked West (1961). But it was his whacky sex melodramas that really allowed Meyer to really show his true genius. Films like Lorna (1964) and Mudhoney (1965) were ripe with backwoods sex and violence, but also filled with ribald, crackpot humor. Which led to a Meyer masterpiece- Faster Pussycat, Kill, Kill! (1965), a story of three morally bankrupt strippers (starring Tura Satana, Haji and Lori Williams) out to fleece an old man out of his money in the desert. The mix of sex and violence was intoxicating and hilariously deranged. Hollywood eventually called, which led to Meyer teaming up with critic Roger Ebert, who penned the script for Beyond the Valley of the Dolls (1970), a seriously bonkers tale of a female rock band in Hollywood, which even threw in a savage, Charles Manson-like massacre during the finale of this X-rated saga, which probably horrified and mortified MGM, the studio that bankrolled it.
It is an unimaginable thrill to see that Severin has made a deal with the Russ Meyer International foundation and is putting out (on digitally restored Blu-rays) the three notorious “Vixen” films as the first ones out of the gate. I had begun to doubt we would ever see these films on home media, and suddenly I’m slipping them into my Blu-ray player and gasping at their clarity and howling with laughter and delight at the movies themselves.
Vixen! (1968) This is a 4K restoration courtesy of the Museum of Modern Art. Set in the Canadian North West. Tom (Garth Pillsbury) is a pipe-smoking bush pilot who charters couples to his fishing lodge. His wife Vixen (Erica Gavin) is a sexually voracious bad girl who is hot for her husband but still screws Canadian Mounties and her guests (both husbands and wives) when she isn’t climbing into the shower naked with her freewheeling, motorbike-riding brother Judd (Jon Evans). Vixen is openly hostile to Judd’s black, draft-dodging buddy Niles (Harrison Page), bombarding him with racist tirades. Erica Gavin is a wonder in the film- sexy, hilariously nasty- she’s just fabulous in every scene. The sequence where she suggestively dances with a dead fish, even pushing it between her breasts and then fellating it, is a riot. In an interview on an extra she admits after she filmed her lesbian scene Meyer yelled “Cut,” and said he had to go change his shorts. There’s archival audio commentary with Russ Meyer. And another one with Erica Gavin. Plus, new interviews with Gavin and Harrison Page.
SuperVixens (1975) After Russ Meyer’s big studio work at 20th Century Fox ended, he returned with his most audacious film. A wild, cartoonish, over-the-top saga about a gas station attendant Clint (Charles Pitt) and his misadventures with a series of oversexed, bodacious vixens. Beginning with SuperAngel (Shari Eubank) a jealous, emasculating, nymphomaniac. After Clint escapes her wrath, she, unfortunately, crosses path with a psychotic cop (Charles Napier) who stomps her to death in the bathtub. The film follows Clint as he gets robbed while hitchhiking by a deranged couple (Beyond the Valley of the Dolls “Z-Man” John Lazar and Sharon Kelly). Clint gets taken in by a kindly farmer (Stuart Lancaster– a Meyer favorite) and then sexually attacked in the hayloft by his large-breasted milkmaid wife (Uschi Digard). There’s the sexy, deaf, dune-buggy enthusiast SuperEula (Deborah McGuire) and her overbearing father. Finally landing a job with the voluptuous diner owner SuperVixen (Shari Eubank again). Meanwhile the crazed cop shows up and it ends with an explosive chase in the desert. Even trying to relate the plot is fruitless- it’s a visual barrage of breasts and startling violence and quick cutting to naked girls bouncing on box springs. But it’s Meyer at his best- a hallucinogenic wild ride of erotic insanity. There’s a fascinating and fun interview extra on this disc with Charles Napier, who describes how he began work with Meyer (Cherry, Harry & Raquel!) and their adventures together through several films. He and Meyer were at a bar discussing how he would kill SuperAngel in the film and someone overheard their conversation and called the cops, thinking they were really plotting a murder.
Beneath the Valley of the Ultra-Vixens (1979) Russ Meyer’s swan song has Stuart Lancaster driving around “Small Town U.S.A.,” doing running commentary on the Texas town’s inhabitants. Think of it as Meyer’s Our Town, but for sex maniacs. Lamar Shedd (Ken Kerr) is busy doing Correspondence School at home, while his sexually voracious girlfriend Lavonia (Meyer’s new girlfriend Kitten Natividad) is frustrated and playing with her vibrator in the bedroom. Every time the couple try to make love he only wants to screw her anally. So, while he is working during the day at the scrap yard for the astonishing Junk Yard Sal (June Mack), she is off having sex with a garbage man; a teenager swimming nude at the local watering hole; or door-to-door lingerie salesmen. All the while the local bible-thumping radio station “Radio Dio Rio” plays in the background. The host- the frighteningly well-endowed Sister Eufaula Roop (Ann Marie)- is busy fervently preaching the gospel over the airwaves. When Lamar gets fired for not sexually satisfying his boss (Junk Yard Sal), he heads to the local strip club for a cool drink, only to find his girlfriend (wearing a wig and speaking Spanish) lewdly dancing nude on stage under the alias: “Lola Langusta.” Lamar doesn’t recognize her because, as the narrator explains, “We’re dealing with a guy who only has an I.Q. of about 37.” There’s even a cameo of Russ Meyer and Haji (Faster, Pussycat! Kill! Kill!) at the end. Talk about going out with a bang.
When I managed a movie theater on Cape Cod in the 70s, I would send out invitations, rent films and take over the theater for my “special day.” It was a blast, forever erasing the foul stench of birthdays. It was a way of controlling the situation, not to mention forcing friends to watch weird films I loved. When I think back on this it’s amazing my boss actually let me get away with it. I had rule over the theater for the whole afternoon, a projectionist at my disposal, and my guests could drink, smoke, eat cake, have sex- hell, I didn’t care. One summer my good friend Nini Lyons photographed me in a party hat with a gun to my head. It was to be my last screening party because, after ten years living on the Cape I was I finally moving to New York. I chose two lulus. Deadly Weapons, Doris Wishman’s film starring well-endowed burlesque queen Chesty Morgan as a woman who gets revenge for her husband’s murder by killing those responsible with her massive breasts. Wishman’s bizarre editing style (many cut-away shots of feet) and Chesty’s outlandish outfits and halting delivery made this one a scream for the audience.
The co-feature was another Russ Meyer film- Motor Psycho! Now what was so great about this print was that it was from Russ Meyer himself. He was kind enough to lend me his 35mm print if I promised to take good care of it. I actually stayed in the projection booth during the run of the film, and while I could hear the howls of laughter from the crowd (probably during the scene where Haji sucks the snake venom from a man’s leg). I was staring at Meyer’s film going through the projector, terrified that something bad would happen to it. I diligently sent the movie back but it was over Labor Day weekend and didn’t arrive on time causing Russ Meyer to call screaming at me for 20 minutes on the phone. I was so heart sick. Here was a director I really loved and he personally hated me. The next day I nervously called and he was jolly and laughing, saying that he was having a drink with the mailman and that the movie had arrived safely. All was fine with the world, but I was a wreck.
As much as I still have some PTSD when his name is mentioned, the minute one of his movies comes on screen or on a television- especially with these glorious-looking Blu-rays from Severin, my heart soars at the screwball lunacy Russ Meyer spurts across the screen. Meyer used his fetish for full-chested women and created an entire body of work of sex, humor, violence, breasts and mind-melting melodrama. What a loony legacy! Thank God for Russ Meyer!
