My favorite movies are the kind that leave you shaking in disbelief afterwards saying: “What the fuck was that?” I think they’re worthy of their own film festival. If you looked up “deranged” in the dictionary you might find any…
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There were certainly movies about criminal couples on the run before Bonnie And Clyde captivated audiences in 1968, but that controversial surprise hit became such a cultural phenomenon that it spawned countless imitators. Down the line many similarly themed movies…
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When I was young I used to lie in bed dreaming up titles of stories and movies I wanted to write. The titles always came first, before the plots. I would mull over such scintillating titles as Torture Me, Gently…
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There is no God. If there was, Kim’s Video would still be open. But I want to believe there is a heaven. Not the kind you see in picture books with angels and harps and pearly gates, but a B-movie…
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In the pantheon of showbiz families, from the Barrymores to the Baldwins, the most fascinating has to be the Ormonds. This strange bunch directed Lash La Rue westerns, took the Three Stooges on tour and made country-western hokum and sleaze…
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Many singers have transitioned nicely into movies. Look at Frank Sinatra, Barbra Streisand, Doris Day, Bing Crosby, Whitney Houston, David Bowie, Bette Midler, Jennifer Hudson. But personally, I’m fascinated with the cinematic hiccups- and not the obvious disasters like Mariah…
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I was recently spring cleaning and getting rid of a lot of old VHS tapes when I came across a pile I had squirreled away in the closet that really started me laughing. In the old days, I used to…
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Hollywood just loves giving itself awards. There’s Oscar, Emmy, the Golden Globes, the People’s choice, etc. You can barely turn your television on in the first couple months of the year without stumbling over an image of some actor breathlessly…
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Personally, I’ve never been to Florida. While I am partial to their orange juice- preferably mixed with a liter of vodka and ice cubes- these days the panhandle has little to offer celluloid sickos like me. That wasn’t always the…
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About the only LPs I’ve saved are those disastrously bad personality platters like A Dramatic Reading With Music (MGM), Sebastian Cabot’s 1967 hilariously pompous interpretations of Bob Dylan songs. Then there’s Way Out West (Tower), Mae West’s campy rock ‘n’…
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