Documentary Review: In Search of Tomorrow: A Journey Through ‘80s Sci-Fi Cinema

Text © Robert Barry Francos / FFanzeen, 2022
Images from the Internet

In Search of Tomorrow: A Journey Through ‘80s Sci-Fi Cinema
Directed by David A. Weiner
CreatorVC
301 minutes, 2022
https://80sscifidoc.com/
@80sscifidoc
www.creatorvc.com

Science Fiction can run from the sublime, like 2001: A Space Odyssey (1968) or Silent Running (1972), or it can fall into the B-level category of the likes of The Green Slime (1968) and It! The Terror from Beyond Space (1958; this was the basis for 1979’s Alien, as 1951’s The Thing from Another World was remade as John Carpenter’s The Thing in 1982). Despite some well-done classics such as the first two mentioned above, by the mid-1970s, Sci-Fi was a second-rate citizen as a genre, producing mostly cheese with bad effects.

This all changed in 1977, with the release of a little film called Star Wars, which reignited the genre aflame, giving rise to both big budget bonanzas and cheapie imitations, but the spark was set. In a perfect storm, this upswing came right on the advent of the VHS market, further spreading the fever. Please note that I am writing this intro before actually watching the film, so I am not sure it will reflect my sentiments. And so, it’s time to start the show. Cue Bugs and Daffy.

The focus of this all-star documentary is that period in the 1980s when everything exploded like all those ships in the film version of Battlestar Gallactica (1978).

After the initial introduction, which briefly goes as far back as Georges Méliès’ 1902’s A Trip tothe Moon, and various other highlights, with Wil Wheaton explaining how before Star Wars, most sci-fi was nihilistic and was a warning of things to come, such as The Day the Earth Stood Still (remember, sci-fi is not about the future or the past, but about the present of when the film was made).

This is followed by a host of hosts: interviews with actors, directors (such as Joe Dante, Paul Verhoeven, and John Carpenter), writers (both screenplays and critics), production crew, composers, and vloggers, etc. What is really nice is that the documentary does not only talk about the top-tier releases, but also the relatively smaller ones that did not raise as much of a blip as the multimillion-dollar mega-effects bonanzas. Year by year, they focus on film by film, so while there are the obvious ones like Star Wars: The Empire Strikes Back, E.T: The Extra-Terrestrial, and Blade Runner, I was pleased they went into detail about the likes of Saturn 3, Yor, Galaxina (RIP, Dorothy Stratton), and Spaceballs.  

One thing I hadn’t made the connection to before, while watching the segment focusing on Flash Gordon, is that the top effects in that film and many others of that period, are now in-reach and equal to numerous low budget Sci-Fi/horror film genres of the present day. In the less sophisticated CGI of the 1980s, it was a wow factor, but now one sees it compared to what the major studios are putting out, say the superhero releases, this was pretty basic by today’s standards. Sometimes modern films will try to purposefully look like the ‘80s as a “flashback,” but technology for indie and low-budget films have actually caught up to the ‘80s majors in their technology, especially with green screens. This is especially true with animated films discussed here, such as Heavy Metal, Tron, and the amazing anime Akira. I’m rambling a bit, so I hope this makes sense.

Among the looks back at particular films, between each year there are also segments of about 15 minutes each that give some grounding to the genre of the period, such as “Cold War Kids,” which talks about how people of that generation – especially kids – were immersed in the threat of the possibility of a nuclear bomb going off at any moment. As a child, I still remember the drills in elementary school where we would practice getting under our desks to practice in case of a regular bombing attack, and lining up in the hallways and crouching down in case of an atom bomb. Of course, in reality, neither of those would really do anything, but we heard about it all the time, including in the cinemas encased in the messages from the films we watched. Even those like Goldfinger (1964) had a big, scary bomb. Where’s McGruber when you need ‘im, right?

While not inclusive, some of the between-years other segments include how films were marketed in a pre-Internet world, visual effects, creature effects (among two of my favorite topics), and music scores. The last one is about the technological implications of the vision in the movies, very briefly focusing on the whole “the future in the story represents the now.” There should have been more about technological determinism, and perhaps throw in a bit of Neil Postman’s Amusing Ourselves to Death when describing the likes of Cherry 2000.

Another interesting point the documentary more hints at than is explicit, is that Sci-Fi is almost always blended with something else, such as a Western (Outland; Star Wars), horror (Alien), war stories (Aliens, Enemy Mine, Predator), or social commentary (Final Countdown; Alien Nation), for example. I find it especially the latter, and the nuclear aspect or the rise of computers, robots and technological determinism (e.g., The Terminator) as expounded by the likes of Marshall McLuhan or Jacques Ellul. This “layering” is part of what makes Sci-Fi not only effective, but makes the future relatable. As I said, whenever it takes place, it’s about the present.

The only sort of repetition in the film, which is unavoidable and yet still enjoyable, is the number releases of a franchise, each of which are covered individually if they came out in the ‘80s. This includes Superman, Star Trek, and of course, Star Wars. Lot’s of “Return of…”, “Part II,” and “The Wrath…” to deal with, but these films are classic and pleasing to rehash, so it still goes relatively flying by.

Each release covered gets about five to ten minutes, and includes lots of clips of the film itself, backstage footage and bits from the trailer, and interviews, none very long (hey, there are a lot of films here). They switch back and forth between the present-day discussions (no historical interviews, happily) with the likes of Alex Winter, Barry Bostwick, Dee Wallace, Billy Dee Williams, Nancy Allen and multiple dozens of others, that it is easy to keep the viewers’ attention and interest, even over the extended time frame. I know I had to break up watching it over two days, which was no problem as it’s individual segments, rather than a narrative where plot points can easily be forgotten. Many of the anecdotal stories told by the casts and crews are especially compelling and often humorous, such as someone discussing the pomposity of Shatner on the set of Khan.

The film is not afraid to shy away from pointing out the flaws of some of the films, such as Howard the Duck and Dune, and glorifying those that deserve it, like The Fly and Back to the Future. And while the film is joyfully comprehensive, it is not inclusive. There are many films not selected for discussion, and yet clips are shown, such as Heartbeeps and Night of the Comet. But, considering the information presented and the immensity of the time, I find no fault in that regard.

This release is a follow-up to a three-part series of documentaries by the director titled In Search of Darkness (2019), In Search of Darkness Part II (2021), and the obvious In Search of Darkness Part III (2022). I have not seen these yet, but it is interesting that it is broken up into three, rather than one honkin’ five-hour extravaganza.

The whole film is a big, “Oh, yeah,” if you were a fan of the genre back in that timeframe. And seeing the people involved and what they look like now is a lot of fun, as well.  And if you are wondering, yes, I did sit through all five hours of the documentary, and smiled through most of it.

IMBD Listing HERE 

Review: Planet of the Gorilla Suits

Text © Robert Barry Francos / FFanzeen, 2020

Images from the Internet

Planet of the Gorilla Suits

Directed by Richard Griffin

Scorpio Films Releasing

Appx. 40 minutes total, 2020

What do you do when you’re an independent filmmaker, and you can’t gather your cast due to a worldwide pandemic? Well, the answer for the collective at Scorpio Film Releasing, under the direction of indie maestro Richard Griffin, is to make a “science-fiction homage of the [radio] serials of the 1930s-‘50 that’s filled with action, romance, danger and cheap special [sound] effects!” (in his own words).

Of course, I’m not old enough to have lived through those bygone days of yore, when people gathered ‘round the tube radio to listen to adventure stories, but I have heard serials on cassette tapes. I even stayed at a Bed & Breakfast (yes, I’m one of those people) in New Hampshire that had it’s own radio station, and they broadcast old serial shows. Point is, I’m somewhat familiar with the Flash Gordon and Perils of Pauline style of broadcasts. Heck, there were even serial versions of Superman and Batman back in the day.

For the format of the serial broadcast with Planet of the Gorilla Suits, which is broken up into 10 parts (that’s why it’s serial, not cereal… sorry), averaging about 4 minutes per episode, the cast is seen on multiple screens (Skype?) reading from their respective homes, keepin’ it real – and safe.

The basic premise is that a group of scientists, the astronaut Rhett and his young brother Bucky (there was always one of those high-pitched voice comedy relief guys in these serials, and in 1950s sci-fi films, often with nicknames like “Brooklyn”), are sent to Mars because rays from the planet are causing auto accidents on Earth. There, they run into a humanoid race living underground (including one in a bikini and an evil “Ming the Emperor” type leader called Lepton the Lethal). Above ground are the titular “Gorilla Suits” apes who are apparently being driven mad by the results of our atomic tests.

This sci-fi ‘cast has it all, like giant spiders and scorpions, killer robots that you know are going to look like Robbie the Robot in your mind (or perhaps the one from “Lost in Space”). I do find it interesting that the leaders of the humanoids and the gorilla suits are women, and both are out for blood.

Written by Guy Benoit (who wrote the excellent film, Exhumed), if this sounds goofy, it is, and it is also hysterically over-the-top funny. For example, one of the “sponsors” of the show is Asbestos Cigarettes, which is promoted by “9 out of 10 doctors on iron lungs,” and good for anyone “8 to 80.” I wish there were more of these kinds of ads throughout, but I’m being picky.

There is no doubt that the story is silly and attached by a string of WTFs, but if you did listen to any other original serials, this is actually quite accurate, while being a loving jab at them at the same time. It kept me smiling all the way through, and even had a few LOLs thrown in.

I love that this troupe is doing this, because this is perfect for sitting around the house day after day, week after week. This serial was released over a two-week period, but honestly, I waited until they were all done to binge watch/listen (my style), rather than “tune in next time for…” as the cliffhangers (did you know that expression was named for the Perils of Pauline serial, much like “jump the shark” was for “Happy Days”?) rolled on by. I’m impatient to find out what happens “next.”

What’s even better is that this is only the first of the serials, with new ones to be starting shortly, each of a different type. I believe the next will be a romantic comedy. I’m looking forward to when they do a Lights Out kind of horror thing, but will enjoy what they throw my way in the meantime.

The first episode is linked below, and they will flow through and jump to the next as you watch them. Have a blast!

Planet of the Gorilla Suit, Episode 1:

Documentary Review: For the Love of Spock

Text © Robert Barry Francos / FFanzeen, 2017

Images from the Internet

For the Love of Spock

Written and directed by Adam Nimoy

455 Films / FilmRise / Gravitas Ventures / MVD Visual

111 minutes, 2016

www.fortheloveofspock.com

www.mvdvisual.com

As I am assuming is true with most people other than die-hard trekkers who are bulletin-boarded to the pulse of all things Star Trek, I first heard about this documentary about Leonard Nimoy, the Prime (first) Spock, from an episode of Big Bang Theory, where Sheldon is interviewed by Leonard’s son, the director Adam Nimoy.

As for Spock and Leonard, I was 11 years old when “Star Trek” first started playing on television. Even though I missed the second season due to being banned from TV for a year thanks to lipping off at my dad, of course over the years I caught up to all the episodes. Back when they were first run, and I was a pipsqueak, I didn’t realize the social implications of the stories (e.g., “I am black on the right side… Lokai is white on the right side. All of his people are white on the right side!” from the “Let That Be Your Last Battlefield” episode), so it was just as enjoyable a sci-fi show as “Lost in Space.” By my mid-teens, I knew better (but still liked both shows).

In 1972, thanks to then-new pal Bernie Kugel, we went to the very first Star Trek convention, held at the Hotel Pennsylvania (then known as the Statler Hotel). The doors were late opening and there was a larger crowd than expected by the organizers jammed in together at the ballroom door, testily held waiting. Bernie, being Bernie, out of nowhere and with lack of context (i.e., bored) turned to me and in a loud voice said, “What do you mean, ‘Nimoy, who?!’” I could see the heads of people turning in my direction with daggers. There was no harm, but I did get sharp glances the whole day. Now I’m completely amused by it, and Bernie remains Bernie and a BFF, I’m happy to say, and yes I still have the convention’s program in a box somewhere.

So, the point is that when I heard about this documentary on Nimoy was in the works, it made me happy. And now I get the chance to review it!

As the film starts, the launching point is Nimoy’s death in 2015, and works its way back to the beginning. A key component is the director placing himself into the story. I find this doesn’t always work in other films, as it tends to misdirect the attention away from the subject in an egotistical way (much like the beginning of this review), but in this case, Leonard is not just a subject that the director is focused on, being his son he is integrated into the story, and so it works.

The early part delves into the start of Nimoy’s career rather than his childhood (a good move), which includes an interview with his brother. Funny thing is, his brother bears a strong resemblance to his Spock friendemy, Dr. McCoy/DeForest Kelley. Most of the family, in fact is represented here, including Adam’s sister (though not Leonard’s widow/second wife).

Y’know, I’m not gonna go into super detail here, because even at nearly two hours, this kept my interest throughout, except for the exceptionally long list of Kickstarter contributors during the final credits, because I have a life, but it still made me smile knowing that so many people wanted to be involved with this project (i.e., hundreds of names).

But I’m getting ahead of myself. This incredibly inclusive film has tons of interviews, with previous cast members, writers, etc., of various “Star Trek”/Star Trek releases, from the television shows (including William Shatner, George Takei [aka the great Mr. Meme], Nichelle Nichols, and Walter Koenig) and films (such as Chris Pine, Zoe Saldana, Karl Urban, Simon Pegg and of course Zachary Quinto). There’s also Jason Alexander, who is apparently a “Star Trek” expert!

There are lots of film clips, from public and private speaking engagements, and conventions (including by fans and cos-players). The production also wisely alternatives between the linear and themes, so we learn about how the iconic “Spockisms” came about, such as the eyebrow-raise, the Vulcan neck pinch, the mind meld, and of course the “Live long and prosper” Vee symbol. Also, Adam nicely mixes information of Nimoy the actor and Spock the character, showing how they intertwined.

There is room for another documentary here on things that were mentioned in passing, including his music career, his books (e.g., I am Not Spock; I am Spock; collections of poetry), his photography art (some of his images are shown, but as they are not Spock related, and due to time I’m sure, they are merely glanced upon, again rightfully so).

Personal information about the Nimoys abound that I did not know, such as Leonard being an alcoholic and a sometimes absent father, but by having a gentle and personal touch, Adam makes him out to be a human rather than a monster (see Mommy Dearest, for example of the latter), and is also willing to take some of the distancing between them upon himself.

While Shatner is the central character and lovingly ribbed in modern culture for his line delivery, Spock is arguable the most influential of the roles from the original program, and I certainly believed the most beloved due to his part-alien/part human “Other” nature. This is also well touched on in the documentary, as is his stimulus on some people in the present NASA space program and the likes of scientists such as Neil deGrasse Tyson (who also appears here).

Extras are legion here, starting with the basic chapters and captioning in multiple languages. Then there are the featurettes. It starts off with the 28:37 “Leonard Nimoy’s Boston,” also produced and directed by Adam. It had been recorded for PBS as part of a series. It’s a really fine annotation to the feature film, because where the main documentary is a bit shy of early pre-Leonard history, this certainly makes up for it in an interesting way. We follow Adam and Leonard as they walk around the city, especially the West End where Leonard was raised, and we see the before neighborhood through pictures, and the after of the urban renewal that just about wiped out the entire area. It’s both a great autobiographical history as well as a lesson on the culture of Boston and what happens when the government uses eminent domain, as New York and Robert Moses did with large sections of the southern Bronx. It was shot four months before Leonard passed.

Next is the 9:15 short “On the Set of ‘The Big Bang Theory,’” which intertwines the post-mortem-Leonard appearance of Adam on the television show. Interviewed are the cast and crew who discuss not only Adam’s role, but the influence of Leonard/Spock on the series writ large. Continuing this theme is the 15:25 “Tribeca Panel,” where Adam, Quinto, “Access Hollywood” producer Scott Mantz and the Nimoy film's executive producer David Zappone appeared for questions at the Tribeca Film Festival in 2016 after the showing of the documentary. Then there is a 4:24 “Trivia Time with Jason Alexander,” a fun piece of fluff as he answers trivia questions about all things “Trek” from both television and film versions (though mostly the original series).

The 5:54 “Kickstarter Gallery” is a series of pictures of people who contributed to the campaign. Following this are two trailers, for the Tribeca Festival and the Theatrical one. Last is the full-feature-length commentary by Adam, Zappone, and Mantz. It is one of the better commentaries I’ve heard in a while. The three participants are respectful of each other and the topic at hand, never talking over each other or trying to showboat, they discuss anecdotes about both the film and the original television show, talk about the personalities of the actors on the set, and little known trivia (outside of Trekkers, of course).

As a side note, I was noticing how much Leonard looked like David Bowie towards the end of Nimoy’s life, and how one of the songs over the final credits is Bowie’s “Spaceman.”

Adam did an amazing job with this “Spock doc,” as he calls it in the commentary, keeping the interest of the viewer by not sticking on a single style of theme, yet keeping it cohesive and sensible.

DVD Review: Cheezy Trailers Extravaganza Box Set

Text © Robert Barry Francos/FFanzeen, 2010
Images from the Internet; note that the videos are not directly from the disk

Cheezy Trailers Extravaganza Box Set
Cheezy Flicks Entertainment, 2010
405 minutes, USD $14.95
Cheezyflicks.com
MVDvisual.com

To explain, I am that guy who tries to get to the cinema at the time listed, not when the film starts. While I hate the commercials they’ve started showing, I will happily sit through 20 minutes of trailers without complaint, and will usually shush people around me (dependant on their size ratio to me, and who I am with), despite their usual response of, “Dude, it’s just the trailers, dude!” response*. Just the trailers!?!?!?

As long as I can remember, the coming attractions have been a joy, and sometime I may write a blog about just them. Originally, I was even thinking of writing about them for my Master’s thesis, but was talked out of it by my advisor), but for now, this is a review, so let me get back to the pleasurable task at hand..

First a bit of business: These seven discs were originally released individually in 2005, and is now packaged as a single box set (a better deal esthetically and financially) in 2010. But that does not really matter (or, as Jesse Jackson famously said on SNL, “The point is moot!), since most of the films covered are from the 1940s through ‘70s.

The subject titles are broken into five sections, being Action, Fantasy, Science Fiction (2 discs), Horror (2 discs), and Exploitation. I’ll take each of these sections individually, but it is really important to note that as large and as thorough as any collection is, it cannot be all inclusive. There’s always that one more you wish were there.

The Action disc is also called “Adventure” on the opening track (lets call it the “subtitle” going forward). Along with the serials like Jesse James Rides Again, much of this section deals with jungles in various locales, be it South America or – mostly – Africa. Along with the many Tarzan pictures (post-Weissmuller, including Gordon Scott’s Tarzan’s Fight For Life and Tarzan’s Greatest Adventure (which has a very young Sean Connery in an obvious henchman role), and Jock Mahoney’s Tarzan Goes to India, there’s some mainstreamers like Zulu! (Michael Caine), King Solomon’s Mines (Deborah Kerr), Mogambo (Clark Gable and Grace Kelly) and Hatari! (John Wayne). But the interest for me is the B- through D-films, with titles like Jungle Gold (with Linda Stirling as “the White Goddess”), Tropic Love (starring the future second-worst president, Ronnie Reagan), Safari Drums (Johnny Sheffield plays Bomba, a Tarzan rip-off), Hell on Devil’s Island, Native Girl and the Slaver, Virgin Sacrifice, She-Gods of Shark Reef , and the infamous gross-out Man From Deep River.

An aspect that is interesting about this genre is the inherent racism and misogyny in these films, whatever the level of grade of release. For example, there is a lot of naked flesh, including breasts, in many of them, but because it was labeled “documentary” footage of native dances, it was permitted even in films for the general public (for example, I clearly remember seeing Zulu! in the theater when I was a child). And, of course, with few exceptions, white = civilized and in control, while black = savagery and fear (or, the enemy). Sure, there are some evil white hunters, but the rescuers were always other whites (especially Tarzan).

Among the non-jungle scenarios, there include Steve Reeves’s Sandokan the Great, Two Sane Nuts, and a few British Hammer (is that redundant?) releases such as Sword of Sherwood Forest (with Peter Cushing) and The Brigand of Kandahar (starring Oliver Reed). Overall through this section, the word “greatest” is well overused as a descriptor. There are 30 films covered on this disc.


The second disc, Fantasy, is more correctly subtitled “Monsters, and Sword and Sandal.” The first half of this disc is indeed, monster-laden, much of it from the ‘50s and ‘60s, with a general focus on larger-than-life creatures, such as The Giant Gila Monster, The Giant Behemoth (one of my faves as a kid), Godzilla! King of the Monsters, King Kong vs. Godzilla, Them!, Rodan, Attack of the Crab Monsters, Konga, and Gorgo. As for the more non-standard versions of the classics, there’s the Spanish The Werewolf and the Vampire Woman, and the Hammer Frankenstein and the Monster From Hell and The Abominable Snowman of the Himalayans . Other radiation-inspired spookers include Attack of the 50 Foot Woman and The Cyclops (basically an extension of War of the Colossal Beast, not represented here). Then there’s Monster That Challenged the World, Rodan, the Astonishing She Monster, Creature from the Black Lagoon, and other dinosaurs on the loose, like The Valley of the Gwangi, Mysterious Island, and Valley of the Dragons.

For the Sword and Sandal section, there’s lots of Steve Reeve (including The Giant of Marathon, The Last Days of Pompeii, and Goliath and the Sins of Babylon), of course, and many others such as Sign of the Gladiator (Anita Ekberg), Gold for the Caesars (Christopher Pik… err, Jesu… I mean Jeffrey Hunter), Captain Sinbad (John Robinso… oh, Guy Williams), Samson and the Seven Miracles of the World, Mighty Ursus, and one of my childhood faves, Atlantis, the Lost Continent (with the Chief, Ed Platt). The S&S flicks had some great titles. And lest I not forget, there is The Three Stooges Meet Hercules (I grew up loving the Stooges, but the later full-lengthers were sad). Stop-motion king Ray Harryhausen makes quite the showing on this disk. There are 46 titles on disc two.

The next two disks (numbers three and four, for those keeping track), are devoted to Science Fiction. There are some obvious choices here, like Earth vs. The Flying Saucers, One Million Years B.C. (though I would have thought this should be on disc 2), The Day the Earth Stood Still, Rollerball, It! Terror From Beyond Space (from which Alien was – err – homage’d), Forbidden Planet, The Time Machine, Barbarella, Robot Monster (what, no Cape Canaveral Monsters?), a couple of the later Planet of the Apes sagas, and 2001: A Space Odyssey. Again, it is the more obscure ones that piqued my interest, including Laser Blast, The Navy vs. The Night Monsters (Mamie van Doren!), Planet of the Vampires, The Giant Spider Invasion, Thunderbirds Are Go (though I stand loyal to Fireball XL5), The Last Days of Man on Earth, The Flesh Eaters, The Brain Eaters, and one I’ve never even heard of called Superargo and the Faceless Giants (obviously European). There are 63 films over the two disks.


There is just so much to love about the next two disks (five and six), titled simply “Horror.” Now what exactly constitutes horror in the cinema to you? Suspense or gore? Monster or masked killer? Alien creature or reptilian from the sea? All these are represented here. Some of the majors are Tales From the Crypt, Whatever Happened to Baby Jane, The Exorcist, Friday the 13th, The Tingler, Dr. Phibes, and to some extent The Fearless Vampire Killers, or Pardon Me But Your Teeth Are in My Neck.

As always it’s the B- through Z-movies which are the most interesting (and luckily far outnumber the mainstreamers), like the vampire western Curse of the Undead, Equinox, Berserk (during Joan Crawford’s final career meltdown), Count Dracula and His Vampire Bride (Hammer, with Chris Lee), Sugar Hill and Blacula (both double genre benders, including the blaxploitation theme), Axe, Raw Meat, The Legend of Hell House, My Bloody Valentine, Captain Kronos – Vampire Hunter, The Velvet Vampire, and Cronenberg’s classic Rabid (RIP Ms Chambers). There are a number of Hammer films here, mostly with Lee and/or Cushing.

This is a nicely rounded collection. Thankfully, there is more monster than gore (I’ll take a ghost, demon or creature over someone in a mask). Sadly, the movie that I found to be the scariest I’ve ever seen is not on here: Robert Wise’s The Haunting, a definite proving case of less is more. However, I do like a good gorefest, nonetheless, but something more imaginative, like Herschell Gordon Lewis’s work (e.g., 2000 Maniacs, The Wizard of Gore), which is also not here. There are 71 on these two disks.


The final collection is set aside for Exploitation. These are films that take a subject and try to scare the bejesus out of the viewer by preying on their fears (sounds like modern day Republicans, doesn’t it?), such as sex, drugs or motorcycles, or takes something salacious and hold it up for prurient viewing (ditto). Most of the films here, understandably, are from before the fall of the ratings boards (i.e., before 1968 when the ratings system started).

Usually they had titles to grab attention, like Pin-Down Girl (female wrestling and prostitution together!; it contains this great piece of dialog: “He’s the sort of guy who would change a girl’s evening stroll from a recreation to an occupation.”), She Shoulda Said No, Glen or Glenda (I Changed My Sex), I Passed for White, The Cocaine Fiends, Striporama (with Bettie Page), His Wife’s Habit, and Satan in High Heels (with Grayson Hall!). Some of the later dated trailers from the end of the ‘60s into the ‘70s include the biker themed Bury Me an Angel, The Glory Stompers and Satan’s Sadists.

There are other seedier sides of violence, like Switchblade Sisters and Black Mama/White Mama, and just a mix-mash from stuff that would seem ordinary on cable today, such as Myra Breckinridge, The Student Nurses and Russ Meyer’s classic Supervixens. Probably the most recent one is Reform School Girls, which starred Wendy O. Williams [RIP]). These are the kinds of films that will either cause your blood to boil, or fall down laughing, depending on your creed. This one has 37 trailers.


Lest not to forget, there are two other sections on each DVD in the specials area, one for trailers of other Cheezy Flicks films and one for intermission bits (“let’s go down to the loooooby…”). Note that there are about a dozen of these, and they seemed to be randomly picked six or so on each the disks, so some repeat (both the trailers and intermission shorts), including Day of the Triffids, Horrors of the Black Museum, The Headless Ghost, Robot Monster , and the TV movie of the week, Gargoyles.

My one complaint about this collection is that there are some trailers that repeat from disk to disk, which makes some sense when they were sold as separate units, but occasionally this happens even within a set. So of the 250 (not 500, as the box claims) or so trailers on the collection, it is narrowed down closer to 225, which is still a fine find and a great deal, and so I’m happy.

This is the kind of collection that you sit down and enjoy it for what it is, or run it in the background during a party, or just jump around to see the ones you like. Either way, there is plenty to go around and satisfy the trailer jones.

* Any true duder will (at least) double dude, at the beginning and end of the sentence.

Unrelated bonus trailer: