Wednesday, May 11, 2011

Oggy's Nostalgia Theater: 1986 Revisited

The other day was the 100th birthday of blues guitarist Robert Johnson. And that led to my revisiting the movie "Crossroads" which should've led me to play guitar when I originally watched it at 11 PM on a Friday night as Dan slept on the floor with Copenhagen dip spit drooling onto the carpet, but instead in 1986 I picked up the harmonica (Blind Dog Willie said, "Man can't blow no harp can't get no pussy.") and seriously played it with an intention to wander the south entertaining on the street and in juke joints, tramping and wandering. Amazingly, that dream has been completely fulfilled. I routinely play harmonica with broke down old black people on dusty streets and the wisdom of the road is only granted to those who walk it.

So, I was thinking that Crossroads wasn't a terrible movie and what other movies did I watch in this era? And I remembered a movie that was about a film production crew going to Greece to make a movie and there's some tits and ass and while it was not enough to inspire me to surf or go to Greece, it was enough to titillate my senses and cause me to wonder what kind of candy Stephanie was hiding in her Guess jeans during English Lit class.

But what the hell was the name of that movie? I really had no idea. I hunted all over the internet for some indication of the title but had no other information than "Greece. Surfing. Making movie." but that didn't find me the title. Even knowing it was probably released in 1986. IMDB didn't help me either.

Fuck. Was I going to have to go to a forum of film geeks who sit around in their mother's basements helping people figure out what long lost film they are thinking about? I've done that in the past and it made me feel like a loser. If I can't find the name of some movie myself then I'm pathetic. I know more movies and search engine skills than anyone I know. So, how the fuck was I going to figure out the name of this movie.

The movie was only 90 minutes long but I'd already spent like two hours trying to figure out the name of it. I got really serious and decided to basically retrace the HBO lineup from November 1986. I knew I had seen it during my sophomore year (for some reason a summer movie was released in the fall). OK, so what were some other movies I could cross reference it with? Hunk. Ah, yes. "Hunk" was another watchable movie about sex and sand. It also had the same basic look and feel of this mystery movie. So I went to the "Hunk" page and vividly remembered doing situps and pushups in my Red Sox boxer shorts so I could be more buff and thus Stephanie or some other PHS girls track star would sleep with me. HAhahahah. All because of Hunk. Oh, I've been deluded for sooooo long.

But Hunk** wasn't the movie I was thinking of so I started to hunt movies that were related to Hunk. Last Resort. I remember that one. Porkys. Yep. Porkys 2. Screwballs. (My brain almost exploded when I remembered Malibu Bikini Shop that can be described with two words: Dissolving Bikinis) A Sure Thing. Revenge of the Nerds. Excellent! I could feel I was getting closer. that?* I went to the Hardbodies page and laughed aloud as the iconic, Heather Locklear derivative image of sun tan lotion spelling out the title of the movie. And the white pleated bikini covered camel toe.

They had to make that movie when I was 13? Really? Like, they knew what would push me over the precipice of puberty into the devil's playground? Like Porky's wasn't enough, this movie was like Penthouse compared to Playboy. ie, actual cunt shots instead of ass shots.

And people wonder how I ended up in a decrepit San Francisco porn palace with my cock out as something like a snuff film scrolled in staggered epileptic fits on a nicotine-stained torn screen.
"You wanna suck?" mumbled the nearby crack ho from a cloud.
I hastily covered myself.
"Don't be shy, baby. I'll get you off in five for five."
She was old and dirty. She reached for me.
"NO!" I shouted, "Don't TOUCH me!" my voice echoing off the tattered curtain walls and into the balcony seats where the fags go for hand jobs.
She drawled on her lit cigarette (no smoking was allowed in the theater)

She went off into the smoky darkness.
"Hey, baby...." I heard her whisper to another patron as I got back to business.

The plot of Hardbodies is now depressing as it involves three 40 year old men with beards as gray as my pubic hair going to So. Cal. to get some ass. They fail and hire a young stud to help them. Hardbodies are defined as "Perfect little foxes down at the beach. "Oh, Time, you cruel mistress, you have your cold hands on my quivering aorta. Shoot me if I hire a young stud to get me some ass from vapid blonde girls getting skin cancer on their fake noses.

I fondly remember Hardbodies and recommend it to anyone wondering why 40 year old men of today are so messed up. Anyway, to make a long story short, the movie I was thinking about was not Hardbodies, but...the sequel to Hardbodies. No wonder I couldn't remember the title: Hardbodies 2.

Now, the movie Hardbodies 2 is totally unredeeming. The objectification of a classic sandstone sculpture on the cover is offensive to me. It's like watching an edited behind-the-scenes of a bad porno. I haven't seen it since 1986 and I only remember that the crew shows up in Greece and the border police cut their surfboard in half to look for drugs (that they have hidden somewhere else) WHY ARE YOU IN GREECE TO SURF? This movie would never be shot on 35mm film today. I can't believe someone actually had to develop this film. The leading lady needs to be replaced with a local girl, Cleo, played by Fabiana Udenio, easily the most successful person associated with this atrocity.

And that closes the book on this episode of Oggy's Nostaliga Theater

* I tracked it down in a 1980s time warp store. It was hard to pick a moment in Hardbodies that captured the utter lunacy of it. Here is a moment where a "skuz" named "Rag" jousts with another villain for the honor of "Kristy" his love interest. This movie was very difficult to watch since I have started growing hair on my face and my priorities have changed. There are moments of taste but for five minutes I was cooking macaroni and cheese and THERE WAS ABSOLUTELY NO DIALOGUE. It was just one goofy music video segment after another. Limos. Sex under blankets. Fake blowjobs. parties. Lights. At one point the night ends with everyone getting some ass and the next shot, to indicate morning, is a shot of the sun low on the water. Uh, what the fuck? This is California. The sun GOES DOWN OVER THE WATER. In the morning, the sun comes up over the smog covered city.

I had to sit on my hands to refrain from turning it off but I won't say it's as bad as the sequel. It's just a low budget, low concept, zero character development, tawdry tits and ass flick. That's all. Any feature that resembles a good film was purely accidental.

** Hunk, on the other hand was laugh out loud funny. There is profound character development. Real stabs at humor and social satire. Low budget madness. There was one frivolous helicopter shot but from the first minute I was laughing at the over the top vapidity of the culture it mocks. Women on Rodeo drive literally drop their shopping bags when Hunk drives by. It's like the director had absolutely no idea how to convey the idea he was good looking. "Ok girls, when the car passes you look amazed and drop the bags. Action!" It's kind of an example of what happens when a script has some merit but the directing is cookie cutter and the actors all understand they will never be the next big thing. No one takes any of it seriously and for that I applaud them. I still had to sit on my hands to watch this but I laughed at the absurdity in so many places. Again, they had a shot of the sun "coming up" over the pacific ocean to signify morning in California. Laughable, but too much social and emotional commentary to dismiss. And if you are wondering how they got the production money then ask Coca Cola how much they paid for product placement.

my apologies...

Tile Belt Buckle

I ruined the sober belt buckle seen here:so badly that the only thing I could do is cover it with tile. If only all things were that easy.

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Man in the Van by Oggy Bleacher is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial 3.0 Unported License.