tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29213270.post8280617382003225989..comments2024-02-25T11:14:29.460-05:00Comments on TEMPLE OF SCHLOCK: THE GREAT HOLLYWOOD RAPE-SLAUGHTER (1977)Temple of Schlockhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16054224371623000524noreply@blogger.comBlogger3125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29213270.post-26714570055466294162012-03-12T14:54:30.144-04:002012-03-12T14:54:30.144-04:00I've never seen this movie but I have seen the...I've never seen this movie but I have seen the trailer and even there the film looks tacked together. The whole "Billy Jack" ripoff at the finale possibly signifies that the protagonist finally got to make a low-budget version of his movie idea. That "Super Ball" sat on the shelf for so long says to me that somebody ran out of money, so it's not like "Equinox" where a finished short was made into a full-length movie by re-shoots and re-edits....it's more like that awful film "Monster A-Go-Go" (1965), where one director had a half-finished film, another guy bought the footage and finished it off with most of the original cast, and had the balls to sell the film as a horror film spoof(!).Strelnikovhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/12660962615198939441noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29213270.post-66781892954513589712011-06-10T16:03:02.713-04:002011-06-10T16:03:02.713-04:00What's even more interesting is that it was in...What's even more interesting is that it was incorporated into another feature called FROZEN HOT, which starred the director and Ella Joyce (ROC, BUBBA HO-TEP - and who was also producer on this). It played at SXSW, which is where I saw it... never had the chance to ask Joyce (who was in attendence with the director) what the hell she was on, to ever get involved with this... <br /><br />Apparently the movie only played festivals... the following review was the only one I could find about it.<br /><br />http://www.bookwarsmovie.com/reviews_pr/page4/page4.html<br /><br />The film most likely to inspire helpless, baffled laughter is Frozen Hot, which is either the most original feature film comedy since Being John Malkovich or the most hopelessly fucked-up (perhaps both). Writer-director Charles Brosseau/Fisher stars in this Hollywood satire as St. John the Baptist (yes, really), a low-rent Hollywood film producer who dresses like Billy Jack and maybe thinks he is Billy Jack.<br /><br />St. John, an obscure actor-filmmaker from the 70s, is undergoing a deposition in a lawsuit to prevent the looting of a "Hindu/Gay/Nazi" millionaire’s estate. The lawyer is a charismatic black woman named Miss Ross (brilliantly played by Ella Joyce of the Fox comedy Roc). As she discusses the case with St. John, "Frozen Hot" randomly intercuts footage from a real-life exploitation documentary called The Great Hollywood Rape/Slaughter (directed by Brosseau/Fisher in 1971) with St. John’s fantasies of enjoying a supercool vanilla-chocolate 70s fling with the attorney, who has inexplicably transformed herself into "Cocoa Mubutu Fox," a hot-to-trot blaxploitation heroine who’s part empowered ass-kicker, part fantasy whore. Both the archival footage and the current stuff is shot in 70s exploitation style, with distanced medium shots and muffled sound, and backed by an exquisite coke-lines-on-a-glass-tabletop jazz-pop soundtrack. You could call it a stunning work of playful, postmodern synthesis–if it were possible to tell which effects are intentional and which are the by-product of an obscure 70s moviemaker doing things the only way he knows how. It’s not possible, and that’s what makes it fun.<br /><br />The obvious invocation here is Quentin Tarantino, who turned the white Gen-X film nerd’s worship of drive-in fare into critically lauded blockbuster pop art. But let’s be honest: Pulp Fiction, as much as I adore it, is essentially playacting–a filmmaker and his actors playing mix-and-match with disreputable film genres and acting styles. Frozen Hot isn’t as voluptuously directed and gracefully written, but it’s the real deal–a movie-out-of-time, created by a guy who’s actually of the era and still feels its woozy, wide-lapeled vibes. In a fantasy sequence where St. John "auditions" Miss Ross for a movie, she fakes tarty seductiveness and then oozes contempt for the white man, which only turns both of them on all the more. "I bet you want Cocoa Mubutu Fox’s thick chocolate lips around your little pink dick, don’t you, Mister Charlie?" she demands. "I bet you want to dive right into Cocoa’s big fuckable ass, don’t you, Mister Charlie, y’old white honky motherfucker?" Somehow she makes it sound endearing. Their passionate, unexpectedly intellectualized affair suggests Last Tango in Paris starring Billy Jack and Foxy Brown. Tarantino should see this film, but I halfway hope he won’t; he might end up masturbating joyously in the aisle.Robert H.http://mimezine.blogspot.comnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29213270.post-70731200530531580342009-01-25T23:48:00.000-05:002009-01-25T23:48:00.000-05:00Absolutely fascinating!Absolutely fascinating!Bookstevehttps://www.blogger.com/profile/09797445163866512849noreply@blogger.com