Cheech & Chong's Up In Smoke (1978)

Wherever you are in terms of weed smoking, this cult flick was a huge box office blast in 1978, which seems like ages ago now. Can you imagine it done nowadays? No way! Defnitely could have only happened in the 70's as at the time it was as close to legalizing weed in USA as it gets. In fact Jimmy Carter won the ticket to the White House two years before officially backing it up and even Hunter S. Thompson swallowed the bug. It's a real pity it never happened as Carter's aide was busted with a big load of snowflake and his progressive, liberal agenda was promptly flushed in the toilet when media caught wind of the scandal. In a way late 70's – although driven by everlasting, cocaine high – were the highest mark of countercultural dreams gone big – if we measure them purely in media and entertainment pitch. Cheech Martin & Tommy Chong could have never found a better time to pop up with their homegrown comedy style.

For many people "Up In Smoke" is the best one in whole Cheech & Chong's series and although it worked for me I have to say I personally found "Nice Dreams" to be much more of an inventive oddball, just dripping with this peculiar, stoner aura. Still, we cannot really go through Cheech & Chong's astonishing film career without bumping on their first, groundbreaking picture. It's cool, it's hilarious and it's definitely baked! How many times it's been ripped off afterwards it's hard to count and that includes recent lame, stoner shit. What makes "Up In Smoke" a wild card and prevents it from aging though is a genuine vocation behind it... this feel of auteur's loco so much buried in the 80's by the big studios cashing on countless clones of "Star Wars", "Jaws" and "The Exorcist". Even if decade under influence was almost over by the time Cheech & Chong caught up, few great movies have been made even as late as 1980-1981.



A plot of "Up In Smoke" is obviously as loose as high mind can be. Two amateur musicians meet casually somewhere around Los Angeles – one just crawled up from a ditch by the beach actually – and they immediately hit it by sharing a gigantic joint (packed partly with Mauie Wowie and partly with labradorian shit). Shortly they get so stoned that driving is impossible anymore and while cult line "I think we're parked, man" comes off of a screen we surely know this bender's gonna last and it does! But the adventures of two dropouts – Pedro de Pacas and Anthony, are not really addressed to any straight viewers, so beware! However, if you've reached for your dear bong or just finished a phat one, they'll leave you spaced out in no time. Among many silly scenes you'll witness a weird music rehearsal and you'll meet wasted Vietnam veteran, who unfortunately flips out while guys want to score some dope from him. You're also gonna drown in some very bizarre ideas like crossing USA-Mexico border in a car made out of liquid marijuana.

In the end you'll have to face a struggle between our anti-heroes and local police forces led by unforgettable sergeant Sedenko, always alert to bust the hipsters as key personalities of a drug-dealing network... and you'll see their gig on young talents night at The Roxy, including obscure californian New Wave and punk rock acts. A cool cat Chicano-black-street speak adds to the flavour making it one of the least pretentious picture of all times and while it contains some lightweight, countercultural agenda it should be watched mainly for these mythical 10 lbs of hysterical giggle. If you have the right attitude and give it a first try, it will definitely blow your mind with it's off-beat pacing and revised version of Marx Brothers humour. You need to know, that only few 60's/70's movies have gained such a cult following with time and while comedies among them are scarce, this is the top. A fantastic trip in glorious past of a truly entertaining cinema, which will grab every serious toker "by the boo boo".

Cockfighter (1974)

One of the most uncommon New World Pictures projects was exclusively Roger Corman's idea, adapted from a rather obscure novel by Charles Willeford. And though it was meant to be someting of an artistic provocation – I reckon, a replay of "The Intruder" – it became an instant disaster and flopped miserably. "Cockfighter" has been given to Monte Hellman, one of the oldest Corman's pupils, who came back around after directing "Two-Lane Blacktop" for Universal (till this day his most famous film), which never scored bigtime against it's powerful vision and raving press reviews. Nestor Almendros was hired as a cinematographer for the picture (later Academy Award winner for Days Of Heaven in 1978) and was paid to fly from Paris to USA – it was his first American movie. The only problem was Monte Hellman, who he felt like passing on this project when he saw a scouted dirt pit in Georgia with smashed Southerners around, betting heavily on blood-thirsty cocks.

"Cockfighter" has irrevocably retained this split. A strange picture, expressed in quick cuts, bloody close-ups and out of blue voice-over – it didn't manage to develop characters' potential either. Although definitely an artist's alley, it got dominated by second unit shots of Lewis Teague in an editing stage – film's editor, who volunteered to fill it with rough, shocking footage, demanded by Corman. Unfortunately this move cut it's legs totally, boiling it down to a vague half-way runner between typical New World exploitation product and a possible, multi-layered tale of love and passion in a violent world, which as we might only presume was something closer to Hellman's spirit. Inside screening uncovered a sheer brutality of the rough cut and it must've been really repulsive one as even Corman turned away from releasing it with so much chicken blood and guts flying around. As an effect the final cut was something of a compromise between Corman's salesman drill and director's artistic vision, but it satisfied nobody



"Cockfighter" is a story of Frank Mansfield acted by Warren Oates. Although he's a top cockfighting coach, he loses opportunity to win MVP of the year award when shooting his mouth off and getting his favourite rooster slaughtered in a hotel room before the big day... his love for whiskey is only part of the problem as there's alsoa girl, who loves him madly and is repelled by his unconditional blood lust. Shaken by the loss he takes an oath to keep his mouth shut untill he finally takes the trophy. That makes Warren Oates' performance a mute one for most of the time (which might as well be the best thing here) and his inner dialogues externalized by mentioned, bizarre voice-over. But shaping up is not that easy and Frank needs to hit the bottom before getting a grip again. Short on cash he sells his parents' house – which gets tolled away – and comes back to the game with a new partner (Omar Baradansky - weird Polish-American countryside businessman), who provides him with fresh chickens. Together they take on the toughest competitors of this southern sport step by step and eventually get down to the beat.

Apparently cockfighting was still a country entertainment in the South when the film was made, but in the same time it was a public embarassment and the topic hadn't a slightest chance to storm the box office. Tabooed at least, but most likely totally disgusting event for drive-in crowd, hardened by exploitation roughies – if it was made today, animalists would get a heart attack – it screened for a very short time. After expected wows didn't exactly come as a wave, it got yanked off by Corman, recut and reissued as Born To Kill. Joe Dante has done another oddball trailer with famous helicopter explosion – used in almost all New World Pictures teasers – but even these desperate gimmicks couldn't save the picture and it was shelved eventually. Somehow it survived underneath the surface and became a minor cult movie afterwards, considered a second, most important work of Monte Hellman. Although pacing is kind of wonky, Corman's influence overwhelming and it doesn't reach weirdness of "Two-Lane Blacktop", it's an interesting example of digesting the southern mystique by one of the most interesting American directors of the golden era. 70's curious zone!

One On The Top Of The Other (1969)

If there's one Lucio Fulci's film you cannot afford not to watch, it's "One On The Top Of The Other" aka. "Perversion Story" (Italian title: "Una sull'altra"). Inspired by Hitchcock's famous "Vertigo" with James Stewart and Kim Novak, it uses giallo rails to spice up classic thriller frame by exploiting what Hitchcock was never able to come through with – sex and erotic passion. While for my money it's a much better picture, I need to mention I was never big fan of Hitchcock appreciating "Psycho" and nothing more. Partly cause I personally hate Old Hollywood romance cliches and partly cause his style is very repetitive and too self-conscious for my taste. Fulci on the other hand had roaring 60's past him, standing on the shoulders of the cultural revolution, which changed a lot in the cinema – from 1959 to 1969 it was like light years ahead! That gave the movie a distinctive flavour, but also let him boil up the story to a sensual orgy.

In fact, it's one of these maestro's genre flicks so flapped around eroticism, that pratically void of violence, which is very often paired with his style by gore fans if not forcefully superimposed. However we have to remeber, that Fulci was suave and smart director, who didn't jump on stage just to say: "Let's do this zombie movie, filled with sex and violence. It'll sell". He evolved like every other great director, shaping his workshop and developing his interests with time through many movies, which included sword & sandals flicks, comedies, documentaries, spaghetti westerns and even musicals. In the end of 60's shaken by suicide of his wife, tired with comedies and spaghetti westerns he suddenly discovered giallo – invented single-handedly by Mario Bava in his two early 60's movies: "The Girl Who Knew Too Much" (1963) and "Blood and Black Lace" (1964). That definitely changed Fulci's artistic route giving him new means of expression, which is best exemplified by "One On The Top Of The Other".

But Fulci would never lower himself to a blatant rip-off, instead he was gonna offer one of the most complex, criminal stories ever featured on the screen. His first take on giallo is definitely one of the best of the genre and starts a completely new offshoot – erotic criminal, which tracks a bust up of marriage. But that's not all of it! Considering, that this amazing movies, starring Jean Sorel, Marisa Mell and Elsa Martinelli was an international co-production, it was released in four different cuts (American, French, Spanish and Italian) of which two (Spanish and Italian) are considered very rare today. Although differences between the cuts are not crucial for the intrigue, they accentuate diverse tones and expose or delete erotic scenes. American version is the most stripped one as far as carnal heat is concerned, while Italian and French one are the most passionate showing all of it. Italian version is the longest one, running approximately 105 min., but it drops initial bird's eye shots of San Francisco apparent in French cut, released as "Perversion Story" on DVD. On the other hand it contains full dialogue lines making this version most elaborate and detailed one.



Italian cut presents full, sophisticated script based on a story of a San Francisco upper middle class marriage. Doctor George Dumurrier (Jean Sorel) is exposed as a character finding himself in a difficult situation, between a falling relationship and his private clinic drowning in serious financial troubles... but his affair with a sexy photographer Jane (Elsa Martinelli) is fortunately flourishing while he's daydreaming about getting rid of the wife, Susan (Marisa Mell) to make his life complete. This somehow happens without his intervention as she soon dies of dramatic asthma attack. Not being able to grieve as he's heart is jumping to start over with Jane, he surprisingly finds out, that his wife's kept a valid life policy worth $1 mln, which makes him instantly rich.

He's able to save the clinic now... and pursue his erotic desires as he's just met a new hottie in a local strip club, Roaring Twenties – Monica Weston, whose beauty is a mirror reflection of his dead wife. Only she's blonde, has deep green eyes and her line of work includes paid sex – in the end she seems nothing more than a witless hooker. But after spending night with her, he accidentally finds out, that she needs to take the same anti-asthmatic drug as his dead wife and that's just the beginning of a long mystery-solving run as he promptly becomes arrested by police and accused of murdering Susan to profit from her insurance policy. Hitting with red herrings, hazardous passions, double-crossing, unexpected twists and dark underbelly, film finally leads to slightly crude, but still surprising ending. As Fulci plays the suspense very well, it becomes a very effective challenge for the imagination.

Maestro's picture is visually stunning, spiked with absolutely amazing shots of Alejandro Ulloa, including fast close-ups, slow panoramic shots and off-beat dolly outs. My favourite one captures Jean Sorel and Elsa Martinelli making love through a veil of thin fabric with red lens – very psychedelic indeed. This Fulci owes undoubtedly to European New Wave masters like Godard or Antonioni. But his vision of working with a camera is not worse than these established auteurs, Fulci is just more after genre's exploitation possibilities and doesn't want to be pretentious. On the top the movie is supported by a breath-taking jazz soundtrack by Riz Ortolani ("Mondo Cane"), clearly one of the best 60's soundtracks I happened to hear. Ortolani's main theme with rich bass notes, counterpointed by a flurry of high-pitched brass licks is an intrisic element of many pivotal points of the movie and often left me breathless.

As far as acting is concerned Jean Sorel is not bad in his role, but feminine creations rule here with gorgeous Merisa Mell playing two sides of the coin and Elsa Martinelli capturing the spirit of strong, sexy, self-made woman. Well-chosen sets and locations add another layer to this cult movie as well as high fashion costumes, which will make vintage orientated designers scream. Although this is one of the rarest Fulci's movies, it's more than worthy tracking down and a must-see for maestro's fans. In my shortlist it occupies a second position after "Don't Torture a Duckling" (1972) and before "Lizard in Woman's Skin" (1971), starting the most creative period of Fulci's career. The only thing I really don't like about it is the ending, suddenly bringing para-documentary style onboard. And while it couldn't meet any more experimental touch in order to sell worldwide, I feel that going down that road it could have made a real masterpiece. Nevertheless, divorced from "what if he..." wondering, I reckon it's still one of the best B-movies or at least gialli ever made, which can be hardly pigeonholed after all. It needs very careful watching, but it won't disappoint Fulci's ardent followers.

Two-Lane Blacktop (1971)

Four people coming from nowhere, drifting, heading nowhere but rich in stories to tell, even if there are no words to describe them as their life is embodied solely in their racing vehicles or their never ending journey. This fiery classic by Monte Hellman has all the ingredients of a great cult movie: brilliant screenplay with extremely weird characters, passion, dark underbelly, fantastic photography and music. It's one of these late 60's & early 70's artifacts, which made to the silver screen only due to the fall of Old Hollywood, using created gap. Financed by Universal, Hellman's film flopped at the time of it's release against high expectations and very favorable press reviews, which dubbed it "the best movie of 1971". A blame in this case has been definitely on the studio executives, who folded the marketing machine promptly after the premiere and then tossed the picture down from big theatres to the drive-in circuit, where it played with exploitation goodies of freshly founded New World Pictures.

Nevertheless, the film eventually found it's public by becoming an obscure night player on American TV. This was fortunate and helped a lot to shelter Hellman's vision in fandom, which slowly has put it up to a cult status. By 2000 it was finally released on DVD after members of The Doors agreed to pass on the royalties to Moonlight Drive, one of many classic songs featured on the soundtrack. Since then "Two-Lane Blacktop" has begun it's second, glorious run, discovered by next generation of movie geeks and die-hard diggers of auteur cinema. Justice has been definitely reclaimed as next to "Easy Rider" and "Vanishing Point", this ravishing road flick is the shit, which shouldn't be missed by any serious cinema fanatic... and it's viewing is highly rewarding, bringing you these uncanny emotions of embracing the acid vision or a dream – both important levels of the epoch's speech. "Two-Lane Blacktop" is indeed an unique piece of creative lunacy.

Monte Hellman was initially another chap, stepping up the ladder of Roger Corman's "shoot today & edit tomorrow" film school in the 60's, which served as a catapult for such personalities as: Francis Ford Coppola, Dennis Hopper, Martin Scorsese or Peter Bogdanovich. He was actually one of this legendary crowd, who glued together "The Terror" (1963) when Corman left it after shooting few nonsense scenes on leftover props from "The Raven" (1962). In 1965 Hellman managed to get $150,000 from Corman to direct two westerns almost simultaneously. They were "The Shooting" and "Ride in the Whirlwind", both starring Jack Nicholson, released in 1968 and considered first "acid westerns" in history – today explained as a bizarre cross of revisionist western and hippiesploitation movies. Although these pictures never made a huge blast leaping high over exploitation pot boilers with their enigmatic plot structure, they are fascinating works, which have lead directly to Hellman's early 70's cult classics like "Two-Lane Blacktop" or "Cockfighter" (1974).



By the time Universal agreed to finance the production of "Two-Lane Blacktop" and forked $850,000, Monte Hellman has been already loking into a firm script by William Corry, but felt it's essence was kind of subpar and should have been reworked to match his ideas. This was assigned to Rudolph Wurlitzer – a fresh writer who just published his experimental novel, Nog (1969) – and Floyd Mutrux, who never got the credit by losing his case in Writer's Guild. Wurlitzer rewrote the screenplay completely, coming up with a copy of a more sophisticated nature, leaving a lot of symbolic space to play around for Hellman. Almost all shots were taken on Route 66, before it was transformed into a transcontinental highway and lost it's mythical allure, and then... the main actors were actual cars: heavily tuned up Chevy '55 and a brand new Pontiac G.T.O. '70 – both machines representing diverse values of car culture.

The film hits as an experimental theatre on the road featuring two hot rodders without a name: The Driver (James Taylor – a cult singer) & The Mechanic (Dennis Wilson – The Beach Boys drummer) going after any fluke in their Chevy '55. They're not really into money when dragging, they're just simply looking for means to make next part of two-lane blacktop... always ahead in their machine, which seems undoubtedly a centre of the world due to Hellman's witty frames, catching it as purely alienating space. Director seems to say with his camera: "That's it, man. There's nothing else" as dialogues are scarce and usually involve running a car or it's technical problems (very nerdy stuff, understandable only for club members). Even when guys meet a young hippie girl – another Summer Of Love dropout – who sneaks into their car to get a lift, they are not destined to end in some place with her. It's just another part of the game.

Action gets raised when they meet Mr. G.T.O. (fantastic role by Warren Oates) - a Pontiac driver, a guy who takes the road challenge and a compulsive liar, who keeps fabricating exploits about his life, passing them to hitchhickers... all for sake of going further down the road as if he'd like someone to cover his lack of purpose. The only moment when he starts to unveil his identity happens during the race, at front of The Driver, who squashes him immediately... as nobody really cares on the road, especially if they're racing for the wheels and the only thing that matters is the moment – very 60's psychedelic, hot rod ZEN message indeed. As they travel across America, the emptiness of their lives becomes strikingly apparent, but it's the only thing left after countercultural dreams went under... a freedom to ride.

This bitterswitness, soaked in post-revolutionary depression is a crucial undercurrent here, making "Two-Lane Blacktop" such a great picture. Even if we desperately try to grasp the meaning, it sneaks away as soon as the characters make another 100 miles. We basically run in the passenger's seat for this whole time just to get, that there are no simple answers, light always comes with a shadow and life will keep carrying on, no matter if you've already moved on or you're still hanging in there... the ending of the movie stands out as one of the greates scenes of American auteur cinema movement being correspondingly bold and confusing.

For Y'ur Height Only (1981)

When Corman's New World pictures eventully cut their ties with Filipino film industry in the beginning of the 80's due to hazards of social turmoil in the country, there were couple of native directors, who picked up exactly where Americans left off. One of these brave lads was Eddie Nickart, who gained his experience working with Eddie Romero, Jack Hill and Joe Dante on their low-budget goodies. Soon, he was to blow the lid off with one of the wackiest exploitation productions ever made, which not only marked the limit of going over the top on the screen, but eventually became a big cult classic in the exploitation fandom. This outstanding example of B-movie sick fantasy features amazing Weng Weng as 3 feet tall secret agent 00, sex machine and martial arts adept in one! Although it was gross even for exploitation standards, Weng Weng with his natural charisma and large spirit in small body made it a real killer giving a brand new meaning to "loved it" sentence.

Forget about James Bond, forget about A-Team or Indiana Jones, forget even about all these vintage ass-kickers like Billy Jack, Django or evil bikers from „Satan's Sadists” as with agent 00 you're gonna go for a ride risking death by massive laugh attack. This spysploitation masterpiece is one of these pictures, where every scene is precious instantly screwing your frontal lobe. Weng Weng has the license to kill and stomps on the crooks, thugs and punks of any sort using his deadly martial arts skills, high-tech gadgets like a flying pork pie hat, ring with a poison detector or stock jet pack, apparently made out of hoover pipes and a fire extinguisher. He's short, but he's a real badass and that definitely gives him the edge. He can run between your legs or squat in the bushes, jumping out like a grasshopper in the most unexpected moment just to finish your miserable life with three slaps and a kick. You never know where Weng Weng is hiding and he might be after you just now as his natural hunting instinct cannot be tricked!



Did you ever see a movie, where screenplay is so bad, that it doesn't even make sense for a half-brainer? Well, you got it here, except this movie is so wildly entertaining, that it stops being any problem. Low-budget creativity has probably never given birth to anything likewise brilliant, excluding modern campy imitations. Weng Weng is the king of the streets and his reputation precedes him everywhere he goes. He's strolls a bit like Shaft, however he's much shorter and uses customized, awesome machine guns matching his size. He's Japanese sword expert too and he won't leave any chances in a duel cutting and thrusting to kill... but after heavy day he likes to hang out in a local disco den downing coca-cola bottles to the rhythms of Salsoul Orchestra. The way he looks in these innocent moments, doesn't reflect who he is at all – a 3 feet tall death machine! Can you dig that potential?

"For Y'ur Height Only" is a wonderful movie on many levels and remains killing fun even after multiple watching (which I strongly advise). It's upside is a combination of low-budget action solutions like people shooting from umbrellas or speaking to the blinking mirror and cheesy set production utilizing local entertainment park, scruffy disco club, cheap hotels and all the other low-profile Filipino landmarks. Without these contrasting qualities, that flick would probably never break through like it did, leaving a smoking hole in the brain of every grindhouse cinema addict, who watched it after sucking on a bong and downing six pack just to be blown off the couch and pass the word. In fact, you cannot really stay unshaken by lines like: "You're such a little guy, very petit like a potato" or scenes where Weng Weng shows off his bravado by flying on the umbrella from 5th floor, landing on the top of a car. These are genuine B-movie nuggets, which simply cannot stay overlooked, so if you don't know what flicks with Weng Weng are about, you definitely cannot afford missing the opportunity to seriously and irreversibly fry your brain.

Don't Torture a Duckling (1972)

Among many Fulci's exceptional flicks, there are maybe three or four, considered his masterpieces. Although nobody will settle on the ultimate shortlist, almost everybody will point to "Don't Torture a Duckling" as his most important film! Whatever you'll put below is all right, providing this gem will make a top of the podium. I usually pair it with "One On The Top Of The Other" (1969), which is another overlooked nugget from maestro's ouevre, except the latter one loses in favour of "Don't Torture a Duckling" due to deus ex machina ending and extra narrative filling, overlaying the final scenes. Other than that, it's almost as yummy as the winner!

Italians often like to juxtapose "Don't Torture a Duckling" to Fellini's "Amarcord" (1973) on a level of playing with a picture of local community, strongly embedded in traditional culture. Certainly, these movies have come from different reigns and schools, but they've been fruits of the same period and offered akin takes on microcosm of social relations in Italy. Then, Fulci's work definitely retains occult thriller's quality, while Fellini's piece chooses to be more of a comedy-drama, not saying their aspirations and markets are totally different. Still, Fulci blew up a giallo drawer into space with his ideas, crossing the lines drawn by Mario Bava, Sergio Martino, Dario Argento and himself. What he landed with, was a movie undeniably guided by artistic sense of beauty and cinematic debauchery, underpinned by quaint scenes of sheer brutality and perverse comments on Italian traditionalism, which is why it should be considered a league jumper in my opinion.



This wasn't just another sleazy "whodunit", but skilful application of an outstanding talent to a genre movie. Fulci's work was a milestone and till this day easily beats other giallo flicks. "Don't Torture a Duckling" steps over Bava's "Blood & Black Lace" (1964) or "Bay Of Blood" (1971), Argento's "Four Flies On a Grey Velvet" (1972), "Deep Red" (1974) and "Suspiria" (1976) and other good gialli like "Death Laid An Egg" (1968), "Your Vice is a Locked Room and Only I Have The Key" (1972), "Black Belly Of The Tarantula" (1971) or Fulci's own genre works like "Lizard In Woman's Skin" (1971), "Black Cat" (1981) or "New York Ripper" (1982). Whereas all mentioned above play within giallo net, Fulci's picture breaks away from it's fixed limitations, offering instead a way of opening to a larger perspective, which in this case has become a real swansong.

Obviously, Fulci still welcomes the occult thriller as his chosen movie convention, but he goes after bigger butterflies now by playing up the expectations, squeezing the last drop of sweat from the cast, taking long, artistic shots, which are no longer simple tools of enclosing a few characters tangled in their own intrigue, but serve to outline them as living elements of a bigger community, pictured with all raving density. As none other picture, "Don't Torture a Duckling" is carried by maestro's unequivocal poetics – director carefully plays out both acts, into which the film is divided, saturating them with doubts, superstition, ethical choices and red herrings on the top. Significantly it's here, where Fulci starts to develop his trademark style, distinguished by deep camera movements, frog and half-frog perspective frames – applied en masse to his later slasher, gore & occult horrors.

The movie was shot around Sant'Angelo and Manziano in Puglia (deep south of Italy) making use of stunning, natural backdrop of the area. In fact, profound light of Italian summer is visible everywhere here, making "Don't Torture a Duckling" an exceptional picture from the side of set production and photography. Moreover, it was Fulci's first movie digging deeply into traditional, Italian folk culture – blowing these themes to a quasi epic, mythical dimension – which has been kind of a higher call ground for most of the Italian directors. On the top, the story seems inspired at large by anthropological analysis of Southern culture, ambitiously capturing pagan beliefs and fears of the local community within screenplay.



As young boys from the local town die one by one, slaughtered by mysterious, psychotic maniac, a police hunt begins, quickly returning first results, which are unfortunately of a hesitatant nature. Although they all provide precious insight into the state of mental affairs of the local community, they remain worthless in terms of pinpointing the killer. As investigation moves forward, a journalist (Tomas Milian) arrives to town, tempted by a great story. He soon joins forces with one of the local outsiders – a gorgeous daughter (Barbara Bouchet) of a famous Italian industrialist, who's been forced to inhabit a countryside exile in order not to bring more exposure to the pending corruption affair of her father. In the meantime a local witch – Maciara (Florinda Bolkan) falls under suspicion taking the blame, but easily gets off the hook after being caught in crossfire of interrogation and confessing all she's been doing... were black magic rituals!

Despite being innocent, she gets promptly executed by local peasants, who still consider her guilty by default. The famous scene of her death in the cemetery is filled with deep passion and cruelty, but counterweighted by Fulci's satirical agenda, who used 60's soul and Italian pop music in the background achieving a tragicomical effect. Before she dies on the side of the road, we're being loaded with subtle, social commentary on the nature of modern, Italian society. That scene doesn't come alone in this showcase of genre's possibilities, but stays in your mind for long. While plot moves ahead and more red herrings die, the only possible killer comes forward. The finale uncovers not only the source of his psychosis, but also gives an opportunity for Fulci to strike another, electrifying social critique.



Although amazing in terms of artistic vision, "Don't Torure a Duckling" didn't have an easy life after the premiere. Fulci has been tried by the court, accused of exposing the child to Barbara Bouchet's nudity on the set. He had to prove, he was shooting the scene with her naked body from different angles, which technically let him do it with both actors playing it separately! Catholic church didn't like the movie either, disputing it's anti-religious allusions and alleged, occult agenda. Then came the usual onslaught after Fulci's love for on-screen violence, this time concerning exploitation of violence against minors. The fallout affected European distribution of the movie, making it a rather smalltime player, which got shelved shortly. As in the USA it was released for the first time in 1999 - although English audio was ready in 1972 - only recently it had a real chance to finally reach the public. Nevertheless, the revival of film's popularity confirmed it's status and brought it back to a critical acclaim, for which it fully deserves!

Night Tide (1961)

Although Curtis Harrington's B-movie debut got slightly dusted with time and is rarely being revisited by movie geeks nowadays, it's off-beat, dreamy atmosphere and occult undercurrent combined with avant-garde cinematography, make it a perfect film challenge for those digging in vintage obscurities and forgotten gems. Made on a shoestring budget and filmed on a location in Venice Beach, California in glorious black & white, "Night Tide" was released in 1961 by American International Pictures and instantly flopped. From perspective of today it doesn't seem strange, because it wasn't much of a cheesy, drive-in flick, providing whole lot of cheap thrills by default like 15 ft women, teenage werewolves, giant crabs or octopusses from outer space – typical exploitation themes for late 50's early 60's AIP repertoire.

By filming a soft mystery, we couldn't grasp till the end and that never would be fully explained, Harrington sparked off instead an occult thriller, which harnessed esoteric tools like Tarot, Greek mythogy and Hitchcockian suspense via experimental cinema tools which he mastered well working with Peter Hamid, Maya Deren and Kenneth Anger on their legendary shorts and then making his own experimental works. In fact, Curtis Harrington was one of Anger's closest friends taking part in "Inauguration Of The Pleasure Dome" (1954) together with other occultists belonging to Agape Lodge of O.T.O. - para-masonic order dedicated to practising Thelemic group rituals of Aleister Crowley. It's when shooting the movie with Anger, he got to meet Marjorie Cameron – John W. Parson's wife – whom he later invited to act as a witch from the sea in "Night Tide".

The whole plot of the film, which draws American sailor on a leave in a seaside town (Dennis Hopper) meeting a beautiful girl working in the circus (Linda Lawson), who he finds out soon is a dangerous femme fatale with an account of two lost boyfriends, both killed in an unusual accident, being herself deeply convinced to be a siren, plays out fundamentally in The Dream Time – a space and time continuum, where imagination is as real as flesh and bone. Harrington's cinematographic experiment with possibilities of setting the action in a sacred space is generally outlined by drifting characters of this bizarre game – sailor, circus people (with retired English captain as a siren show master), witch from the sea and finally the siren herself (girl who doesn't know neither where she came from nor where she's going to). These faint silhouettes – despite their soap bubble quality – pull the viewer deeply into the neverland, where he's supposed to confront the subconscious eye in the eye... exactly what Kenneth Anger and Maya Deren proclaimed in their own works.



Except occult musings, this fascinating film could be seen as a sort of late beat generation offshoot definitely owing a lot to beat experiments with form. It's countercultural derivation becomes strikingly evident in the first scene, when main character randomly meets his soon to be object of desire in a jazz cafe starting out a casual conversation, while bebop jazz is played live in the background. The whole frame of two people just kind of hanging out and falling in love could be actually seen as very beat – it just happened "on the road". Although "Night Tide" has a very tight narration, based on a sound screenplay, Harrington favours rather picturing atmosphere, using minimal dialogues, which serve mostly as the only anchors of a firm reality – barely an offset of The Dream Time. That's where he comes in fact near to Maya Deren's ritual masterpieces like "Meshes Of The Afternoon" or "Ritual In Transfigured Time", which hold onto life of the subconscious in an intriguing manner, with an exception that the latter ones drop linear structure totally.

After all, "Night Tide" is a very unusual picture staying off the rails by going B-movie strictly down the experimental line. Worth noticing is Dennis Hopper's acting as well, rarely brought up in any summary of his – however you wanna look at it – long film career. He's still pretty far from this outrageous, jibbery, drug-fueled style of late 60's, that went on the record around The Glory Stompers" (1968). Here he goes completely with the mood – a rebel soul swinger, who can make his tone of voice significant or suggest something barely with face mimics. It's hard to disagree, that in "Night Tide" Hopper was still one leg in the 50's, getting effortlessly theatrical as if still playing "Macbeth" in Old Globe Theatre, San Diego. His later, condensed fury is totally absent here. Clean face, straight walk, subtle speaking and last but not least almost adolescent emotions. I really enjoyed watching him here and if you feel like checking him in this Harrington's obscure flick, definitely go for it!

The President's Analyst (1967)

60’s not only paved the way for violent bursting gangster cinema and higly engaging auteur dramas tracking the widening generation crack, but also gave birth to a new sort of comedies playing or spoofing on middle class lifestyle, conservative beliefs and finally on their motherland – the counterculture. A reason inviting new forms was rapidly transforming market itself, into which big Hollywood productions suddenly couldn’t tap no more. When high budget lollipop musicals and melodramas were losing money, studio moguls were desperate to replace them with anything, that would keep them going, hence they were accepting ideas, which before would be turned down without even reading the script.

"The President’s Analyst" was one of these movies and although accepted for production by Paramount – a half-independent studio for Hollywood standards at that time – it was still subversive enough to make high-rolling fatties nervous. Written and directed by Theodore J. Flicker, till that time a well doing TV craftsman, it boiled up a whole range of creative ideas, that in theory would fry rebellious brains of Baby Boomers entering the cinema. However, soon after kicking off the production, reality shock sobered up the artist when FBI demanded their name to be dropped from the movie concerned about their image – since 1963 they were slowly becoming one of the most hated American institutions among the hipsters, acid heads and leftists, commonly accused of messing up with JFK kill. The names of key agencies in the script were hence replaced by silly sounding, but still effective in direct alluding – FBR and CBR.



Nevertheless, this exceptionally funny, off-beat comedy still managed to come across with it’s agenda standing out as one of the best genre movies of it’s time, which though initially flopped, developed a real cult with time. The plot concerns sudden shift in Dr. Schaefer’s life – a genuine New York psychiatrist played by James Coburn, strongly attached to his academic methods. He’s just passed a dilligence rundown, ordered by FBR and CBR, which made him effectively the official US president’s psychoanalyst. He promptly moves to Washington to start his new assignment, but after short period of high stress on-call work, due to being privy to the biggest national secrets he becomes extremly edgy and suspicious of everything around him developing heavy paranoia. Eventually he suffers a nervous breakdown and flees the capital with randomly met "typical American family". He heads to East Coast fearing for his life, which proves to be justified as FBR, CBR and dozen of other foreign intelligence agencies have just made him the most valuable man in the world by opening a hunt!

That’s when the movie blows into a whimsical and soaring social satire as Dr. Schaefer is jumped at the front of NY restaurant by secret agents and runs for his life passing casually Cafe Wha? and getting into the near parked flower power van. Hippies – acted by obscure psychedelic group Clear Light – become a perfect cover introducing him to the countercultural lifestyle soaked in weed, acid and rock music. These beautiful scenes with Clear Light are a real find for 60’s psych fans as the group recorded only one brilliant album for Elektra Records in late 1967 disbanding shortly afterwards, therefore their footage is extremly hard to find. There in fact we get to feed on 60’s culture exploits being loaded up with back-to-earth cliches, psychedelic wisdom and LSD freak-out scenes, all flashing through well built underground vs. overground undercurrent, which will fuel the rest of the movie with light-hearted, but hip wit.



As the intrigue carries on, we read this old anarchistic truth in "The President’s Analyst" – competition often gets in the way of itself, especially in killing business – when Dr. Schaefer luckily saves his life. In the end he’s gonna combat forces of repression using his natural talent for telling people the truth and effectively winning their side. Even if they are secret agents, they still need to be treated, which helps to unroot the seed of ultimate technocracy being planted behind the closed door by The Phone Company – a bizarre symbol of business machinery looking up to depersonalizing a free individual – when their head quarter is tactically wrecked by the doctor and his patients-friends… but the question remains, for how long it’s gonna stop the oppressors?

This terrific flick stands as one of the most hilarious 60’s projects by any standards, which gently lines up with such comedies as "I Love You Alice B. Toklas" (1968), "The Party" (1968), "The Magic Christian" (1971), but might be treated as a perfect companion for hippiesploitation flicks like "Wild In The Streets" (1968) or psychedelic sci-fi spoofs like "Barbarella" (1968) as well. No doubt it’s an artifact of it’s time, but very prophetic in pointing at all the side effects of modern political order. A must-see indeed!

Wild In The Streets (1968)

If you like these cheap genre flicks American International Pictures were doing in the 50’s and 60’s, but you never saw "Wild In The Streets", there goes the nugget! If you are into obscure movies, but not necessarily into hippiesploitation or drugsploitation, that might be hard rock for you as what your really get here are countercultural myths, dreams and slogans of the high sixties wildly mingled together – they’re certainly exploits, but a way of serving them is much different from one to which you got used to watching let's say beach movies… in different words Barry Shear kicked it up a notch very significantly and got us plenty of fun!

"Wild In The Streets" was one of the most revolutionary movies of it’s times (or at least I like to think that way) for couple of reasons. First of all, the budget hit $1 mln, which was very unusual for a 60’s drive-in picture. Second thing is that it got an actual 1969 Oscar nomination… for editing. "Big deal" you say, but Corman’s or Meyer’s movies never got one. Third thing is the message of the movie - socially subversive, even if screenplay dips it a bit in a fantasy realm. "The old has to die!" Who came across with it in a mainstream movie before? We have a lot of experimantal, occult movies trying to show the agenda of social and spiritual transformation like Kenneth Anger’s shorts, but there were no really Derek Jarman’s all front dystopia themes at that point and Godard was just starting to develop his socially critic, surreal formula on a totally different level. Besides everything I still love the fact that it’s basically about drugs and music fighting the good ole boys’ politics.

We are thrown into the world of a fifteen year old Max Flatlow, who’s becoming exhausted by his family void (his mother is played by Shelley Winters) and petty bourgeoisie habits. He is a genius though as by synthesizing LSD in his basement, he finally gains something worth monetizing and the cash goes straight for a purchase of a dynamite, used immediately to blow up his father’s car in an emotional act of teenage rebellion. Max is free to escape at last! Nine years pass and Max Flatlow changes his surname to Frost – in the meantime he became a rock’n’roll superstar and first American millionaire at the age of 19. He lives in a big villa in Beverly Hills together with his band The Troopers, who are his closest friends.



Among them there are: Sally Leroy – former children movie star and a nudist; Abraham Salteen – Max’s lover, vegetarian and acid head; Billy Cage – fifteen year old lawyer, accountant, the youngest Yale gradute in history. There are also Fuji Ellie – Japanese stenotypist, a great concubine and Stanley X (young Richard Pryor) – cultural anthropologist, author of a bestseller: "The Aborigine Cook Book". They get along pretty well practically living as a commune. Most of the time they roll joints planning to take over America with the help of their great popularity. They are not just fairy dreams as more than 50% of American population has less than 25 years and the young are definitely ready to blow up!

To make a long story short, Max gets into the politics by supporting a senatorial campaign of John Fergusson from California. He promises him to pass a right to vote fo everyody over 18 years old in return. Max goes for it, but decides to play his own game suddenly coming up with a much more radical proposition to grant it to everybody with 14 years finished. He promotes his agenda with a new song "14 Or Fight" and gets America into mass hysteria. John Fergusson plays along and they make a deal settling on 15 instead, but although he wins elections, he doesn’t want to keep his word.

Max puts up Sally as his own candidate for Congress and she wins by a landslide. They try to push the act together, but they cannot get the political support, therefore they decide to come up with a nasty plan – pour a jar of LSD into the Washington water supplies, which lets them set children advisers for every congressman, who just raise their hands as the act is being voted down. A parliamentary revolution follows with Max chosen as a president. America is turned upside down with LSD camps for poor farts, who just turned 35 – they have to experience a new life as reborn acid heads after being loaded up with heavy psychedelic doses… it’s obligatory, no excuses! As all acid dreams come through, social reality finally achieves it’s superior order… but there’s still a change waiting.



There’s a wild passion and humour in this movie, which are better detected when stoned. I guess that without a "particular approach" this pearl will never shine as it’s supposed to but… in the right moment it gives a lot of fun, which is probably the biggest value of it. Don’t try to search for the intellectual bits here, cause if you do so, you won’t be able to grab the essence of "Wild In The Streets" and will be left disappointed. Great side of the movie is the music composed and recorded by unforgettable Davie Allan & The Arrows (dubbed with a fictional name Max and The Troopers by Tower Records), their overlooked, fantastic garage rocker "A Shape Of Things To Come" swirls your head with a genuine guitar fuzz and is itself one of the reasons why this movie is a must-see for 60’s garage and psychedelia collectors and all people generally interested in 60’s counterculture, fashion and cinema.

Cheech & Chong's Nice Dreams (1981)

If you ask me who the biggest heroes of the late 70’s and early 80’s were, I’ll give you the damned answer straight away – they were Cheech & Chong! Although this wicked duo started as a rock group, they never went big with their music and LPs they released eventually wound up stocking up bargain racks in music shops around the world! It didn’t happen untill they got into movies that their natural talent for smoking weed and making fully blown comedy gags finally shone through. As they burnt a big hole through US box office with their debut picture "Up In Smoke" (1978), they suddenly became America’s new hipster’s hipsters. Frenetic cult has followed, which slowed down only a bit in the late 80’s, but never actuallly died! Today Cheech & Chong are as strong as never carrying their freedom message everywhere they toke up!

At the top of my personal list, floating on the silk mattresses of heaven, there’s one wonder flick they scored for Columbia Pictures, called "Nice Dreams"! The only movie which made me laugh so much, that I actually got hiccup and became scared I’d have to get hospitalized. "Nice Dreams" is a third picture in Chech & Chong’s series and although many fans point up to "Up In Smoke" as "the masterpiece", at least the same number praises the value of "Nice Dreams" as the ultimate stoner joke (clapping)! In fact, there’s a lot of arguments supporting this thesis such as absolutely ground-breaking screenplay – a virtually flawless gig, which doesn’t leave any loop holes that might be potentially spotting the action! This comes along with Cheech & Chong’s high level, drug-fueled acting as exemplified by outstanding scene in the restaurant, which carries a strong resemblance to Marx Brothers unforgettable performances!



And last but not least there is a message of the movie itself. These characters might be dopers and dropouts, but at least they see clearly all the shit and hypocrisy of the modern world preferring to do their own thing than drown in it. Their lifestyle unveils a crucial, moral dilemma – Cheech & Chong are doing harmless thing, they’re smoking weed, which is punished by law, but on the other hand forbidden because the laws are unjust and rotten to the core! Police forces chase the bad guys around while not giving a shit about the laws themselves indulging in drugs whenever they can. It’s solely their position of power, which lets them do it without any scare, while local communities are hassled, prejudiced and cracked down on without a scruple. Cheech & Chong represent freedom of choice and the liberties fundamental for communities in every democratic society, while their opressors are power mongers interested in limiting them to minimum – eat shit & die, fuckers!

However, the story of "Nice Dreams" is a very intimate one! Cheech & Chong go around the town dealing dope from an ice cream truck, from time to time trying to score with some chicks, but the law executioners are constantly on their tail and will bust them as soon as they get to the source of their awesome weed. This in certain order leads to Crazy Jimmy character, who just invented a new system of growing very potent buds. This shit is in fact so strong that can turn people into lizards, about which sergeant Sedenko will find out very soon when tempted to quietly smoke it himself. Cheech & Chong’s business gets very good in the meantime – they even plan to buy a tropical island, which they would rule as the kings of the sun being praised with thousand joints every day (great gig, man). Though when they’re visting Jimmy’s grow to get more stuff, cops are doing a bust. In effect, they’re on the run now making it through Chinese restaurant (where they meet Donna, Cheech’s ex girlfriend and get coked up), hotel sex & violence adventure (where they meet the furious biker), psychiatric hospital (where they get to meet Timothy Leary and trip on acid) to finally land bled’n’dry in a strip club to entertain the ladies… cause nothing lasts (as Ken Kesey would say)!

"Nice Dreams" is definitely one of the best movies in it’s class. What am I talking about? It’s one of the best movies ever! It beats "La Dolce Vita", "Psycho" or "Zabriskie Point" and even "Mean Streets" or "Boogie Nights". It’s as good as "Reservoir Dogs", "Network", "Five Easy Pieces" and only slightly worse than "Easy Rider", "The Holy Mountain" or "Apocalypse Now"… so if you want to see something really ass-cracking, go for this stoner classic NOW and remeber that a toke with Cheech & Chong is a quality toke!

The Trip (1967)

If you never heard about "The Trip", but psychedelic drugs are something you understand and you’ve been into, it’s definitely a movie for you – checking it out it will be like getting a proper flashback (lucky you). If you occupy the other side of the barricade thinking that drugs are bad, that you have to be a degenerate to mess with them, that people taking LSD get loco and hear voices, which make them jump from the nearest roof, don’t watch it, it’s not gonna be funny for you. After all to fully appreciate this cult movie, you need to get heavily loaded. How else are you gonna watch a movie about LSD trip, which is supposed to be real fun? Stone cold sober? Forget it!

Basically, this movie carries a real legend, which breaks down like that. One day Jack Nicholson approached Roger Corman suggesting him shooting a picture dealing exclusively with LSD experience, for which he even managed to cut a screenplay. Corman accepted it objecting only against it’s length, thus quickly rewrote it to make the film easier to produce. As he didn’t know anything about acid at this point, he promptly dropped a sugar cube in Big Sur to check it out – it’s hard to imagine that he didn’t do it before, isn’t it. It gave him a brilliant insight as "The Trip" is one of his best movies ever and could be definitely classified as drugsploitation or hippiesploitation classic.

Not everyone thought it was that awesome in the beginning though! Original cut (85 min.) has never seen the world due to AIP mongers, who messed with Corman's version cutting out the beautiful, transgressive ending! However, even this safe cut was never classified by the MPAA, which means that distribution has become impossible and the print itself was shelved. Then UK film office has followed banning a movie till 2002, which as we might expect totally cut it’s wings in Europe. But what was irreparably wrong in this picture? No violence, no even rough sex… just the fact that a character drops some acid and starts rediscovering the world around him. However, it was seen as drug culture manifesto back then – a hedonistic statement, which potentially might have corrupted the youth. As a matter of fact, due to AIP helping hand it contains one of the funniest disclaimers in film history, but even that didn’t convince the censorship unfortunately. Almost 40 years later it’s been finally released on DVD and got to live a second life.



I personally love this flick, it’s a beautiful work with a whole bunch of surreal scenes, in which main character - Paul Grove sees everything around being totally zonked out of his mind – it almost induces the acid experience itself. Worth mentioning is that the character does not do it recreationally, but as a way of feeling out where to go next (it was a part of the sales pitch back then). He faces a divorce with his wife (Susan Strasberg) and he’s not satisfied with his professional life either while all around his friends freak out and discover their inner child. A movie itself is a showcase of hallucinogenic effects! We get lens flare (the same used later in "Easy Rider" by Dennis Hopper), fantasy sequences, whirling lights and whatnot. Jerky shots of Sunset Strip were directed by Hopper (he plays Max character in the movie) and Fonda definitely knows what he’s doing as an actor. It’s a real sweetness that came our way from Corman!

As a bonus for watching "The Trip" comes fantastic, obscure soundtrack by The Electric Flag (originally released on Sidewalk Records), who recorded it as their first album in ten days session. It can be considered a masterpiece of San Francisco sound! 18 tracks cut were swinging around psychedelic rock, blues, various moods of free jazz and soul. It’s here, where Mike Bloomfield unveiled himself as a genius composer, arranger and one of the up-and-coming guitar talents in USA. The music leads a viewer through all Peter’s acid trip, from the first kick-in through blows of euphoria, paranoia, searching to be saved from bad trip and "circus court" to final wear-off. To imitate peculiar vibe of the acid trip, band used whole set of weird effects including lines played by Paul Beaver on one of the first Moog synthesizers, which were quickly to possess an American psychedelic sound.

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