Bae Wolf

★★
“LARPing for all.”

There is certainly room for reworking of the tale of Beowulf and Grendel, and making the heroines of this version female is what got me interested in it. However, the warning signs were out very quickly. Opening titles which said “Denmark… 500 AD… (-ish)” are a good sign of what to expect, for it’s clear that the makers were not happy to leave their changes at that. Indeed, they consciously embrace anachronism, especially in the dialogue, which is thoroughly modern, and could not be further from the epic poetry of the original if they tried. And I suspect they did try: congratulations on erasing one of the main reasons the story has survived down the millennia.

The basic story is, at least, largely unchanged. The land of Queen Walchtheo (Petsiavas) is under attack from the monstrous Grendel (Kern), and she sends her daughter, Princess Freawaru (Renew) out to find someone who can slay the beast. Freawaru finds a party of Danes led by Beowulf (Hill), who is disgruntled about the legends making her male: “As if you need balls to hold a sword.” They are commissioned for the job, which is where it gets murky, in a variety of ways. The Danes are a bit sketchy, in terms of delivering the contractually required slaughter; Grendel has mommy issues; and the princess falls for Beowulf, because this is 2022, and everyone has to be gay for no particular reason.

This was apparently shot at a Live-Action Role-Playing (LARP) camp, and to be honest, it shows. This is very much at the “running around in the woods” level of fantasy cinema, and at no point even remotely approaches selling its time and place. It leaves the film precariously perched between two stools, neither historically authentic nor modernizing the story. It drops contemporary characters, attitudes and dialogue into the 5th(-ish…) century, and the results don’t typically work, unless you’re playing for comedy. They can’t quite commit to that either, with a jokey tone, that simultaneously feels like it wants its opinions on gender and sexuality to be taken seriously. The net result at points feels like a political lecture delivered by someone wearing a pink pussyhat.

Yet I couldn’t bring myself to dislike this as much as I might. Beowulf and Grendel are both given more complex characters than in some other adaptations, and are helped by decent performances from the leads. I will also admit, the final confrontation between Beowulf and the much-feared dragon is a great example of how you can genuinely yank the carpet from under your viewer. Let’s just say, very little in this world is as it seems, and the film works best when playing on this line between myth, legend and the facts, along with the way they mutate into each other. If they could have developed this aspect more, in lieu of the less successful elements, the obviously low budget and clunky writing would perhaps not have been so glaring.

Dir: David Axe
Star: Morgan Shaley Renew, Josh Kern, Jennifer Hill, Rachel Petsiavas

Flatbed Annie & Sweetiepie: Lady Truckers

★★½
“Hard to give a truck.”

After her truck-driving husband is injured in an attempted hijack, Sweetiepie (Darby) finds herself in a bind. They’re way behind on payments for the truck, to the point that it’s about to be repossessed by C.W. Douglas (Stanton) of Vehicle Retrievals Incorporated. In desperation, she hires experienced driver Flatbed Annie (Potts) to partner with her, working the necessary delivery routes to pay off their debt. However, Douglas is not the only threat the pair face on the highway. The failed hijack was intended to recover a package which has surreptitiously been placed in the truck during a run to Mexico, and its owners remain very keen to recover their merchandise from the new operators,

It’s a TV movie, so you know that means it’s going to be well short of the necessary wallop, especially considering the late seventies era from which this dates. In reality, the mob would have no hesitation in using more direct methods to take their property back, with Annie and Sweetiepie lucky to escape with their lives. Here, the criminals are bumbling, comedic figures who pose no threat and, in fact, are all but forgotten during the middle stages. It’s also remarkable how Sweetiepie picks up the ability to drive a 16-wheeler in only a few hours, considering she was previously a county clerk. Training. It’s clearly vastly over-rated… Mind you, if you’re looking for vehicular mayhem, you’re in the wrong place anyway: an unnecessary citrus avalanche is about as close as this gets.

On the positive side, the case here is better than you’d expect. You may remember Darby from the original True Grit, and Potts would go on to Ghostbusters. The chief delight though is Stanton, playing a repo man a full five years before his iconic turn as a repo man in… um, Repo Man. His character here is an affable sort, considering his profession, who rarely lets anything faze him, playing the guitar as he drives. Indeed, he’s quite the musical talent, at one point whipping out his harmonica to deliver an impromptu rendition of Scotland the Brave, for no apparent reason. The film comes to life any time he’s on-screen, and if this had spun off into a series (as the ending implies was hoped), I’d have watched.

As a stand-alone entity, however, it only barely passes muster as entertainment. The initial set-up is fine, the problem is a script which has no idea what to do with the scenario beyond reaching its end point. Questions such as how the package came to be in the truck, for example, are glossed over in little more than a single sentence, and that entire subplot is not so much resolved as discarded. There are nods to the brotherhood of the road, with other truckers helping out our heroines, an idea likely borrowed from the previous year’s hit movie, Convoy. Like most other elements here, nothing of more than marginal significance results.

Dir: Robert Greenwald
Star: Kim Darby, Annie Potts, Harry Dean Stanton, Arthur Godfrey

Ditched

★★
“No-one is innocent”

Paramedic Melina (Sila) regains consciousness to find herself in the back of her ambulance, along with her patient, Franson (Loranger), and the rest of the crew in various states of health. The vehicle had gone off the road and fallen into a ravine, along with the accompanying police car. It turns out they were transporting Franson and another prisoner to hospital when the crash took place – and it quickly becomes apparent that what happened was far from an accident. A posse of camo-clad hunters close in on them, led by Caine (Gray). Their mission to make all the vehicle’s occupants, both criminal and otherwise, pay for the sins of their pasts. They’ve brought with them the wronged parties in question, to exact bloody revenge.

An interesting idea, undone by a script which never manages to address basic questions, and which relies too much on ridiculous coincidence, necessary so that the film can happen. I mean, what are the odds of every person taking part in the convoy having a lethal secret hidden in their past, for which they escaped justice? I also am impressed with the organizational skills shown by the ghillie-suit wearing vigilantes. We can’t even get half our family to commit to a birthday party venue, never mind everyone trekking out to the middle of nowhere to take vengeance. Then there’s Melina’s concussion, which appears to have no impact at all five minutes later. On the other hand, she miraculously goes from needing to have explained to her, that a gun will stop someone “doing bad things,” to being a thoroughly competent operator of firearms.

The enemy outside are, initially somewhat menacing, at least when they are in stealth mode. Probably inevitably, given the nature of the plot, they eventually switch into unnecessarily verbose, with Caine the biggest culprit in the category of verbal oversharing. [I’m still trying to work out what the “quick and painful” death he orders at one point would be like: surely it’s one or the other?] I did enjoy some messy and vindictive violence, executed in gratifyingly practical ways. For example meted out by a chainsaw, or a shotgun, first to the groin, then to the face. The ending is admirably bleak, if not unexpected – and, again, relies on remarkable happenstance.

Sila does show some promise, and I liked how nothing much is particularly made about her character’s native American heritage. Such normality is exactly how it should be. Melina has a personable nature, and operates in a common-sense way, refusing to panic despite the increasingly bizarre and threatening situation in which she finds herself. There’s hints that unleashing Franson might be the only way to counter their attackers; this might have merited further discussion, though from this site’s point of view, we are happier to let Melina be her own saviour. We would also have been happier to have seen her part of a totally different script:  oh, well, maybe next time.

Dir: Christopher Donaldson
Star: Marika Sila, Kris Loranger, Mackenzie Gray, Lee Lopez

Chained Heat

★★★½
“Peak women-in-prison.”

This may not be the best women-in-prison film, but it’s pretty much iconic. It certainly stamped the template from which almost all would follow. Carol Henderson (Blair) is sentenced to a relatively short 18 months in prison, for her involvement in a fatal car accident, only to find life on the inside is far, far harder than expected. Hazards to be navigated include those on both sides of the bars. There’s the predatory and drug-running warden (Vernon), who has a jacuzzi in his office – bit of a warning sign that. Then there’s his assistant Captain Taylor (Stevens), who is pimping out inmates with the help of Lester (Henry Silva). Meanwhile, a race war is about to break out among the inmates, between the groups led by Ericka (Danning) and Duchess (Tamara Dobson), with Carol caught in the middle.

It’s a stellar cast for an exploitation movie, also including the former Mrs. Russ Meyer, Edy Williams, and the insanely hot Monique Gabrielle as the first inmate to frolic with the warden in his watery play-pen, despite him being more than 30 years older. The nudity is copious, frequent and more explicit than you might expect, especially if you find an uncut version. There is at least one scene of sexual assault which even I found made for uncomfortable viewing. I’d prefer to have had more of the struggle for power between Ericka and Duchess, which is a lot of fun to watch, both women having screen presence to spare.

In comparison, Blair has trouble standing out, choosing to underplay her role, when all around her are going in the opposite direction. This is where the “pinky violence” films from Japan stand out, with their heroines who are prepared to do whatever it takes to survive, and defeat those who stand in their way. Carol doesn’t get there until the very end, if at all, eventually brokering a rather unlikely alliance that sees Ericka join forces with Duchess, when they realize Taylor is the real enemy, rather than each other. Even more unlikely is the way Carol comes into possession of a convenient videotape, implicating Taylor and her crony in murder.

Still, if you are here for the plot, you may have strolled into the wrong review. Blair may have had her regrets, the IMDb saying she “stripped naked because she felt she had no choice.” That seems like a “you” problem, Linda. I’m fairly sure the rest of the cast had no such qualms and, as noted above, she’s likely the weakest link in the characters anyway. Even though it’s twenty minutes before Carol gets through processing and into her cell, it is fairly consistently entertaining, albeit not necessarily for the right reasons, and will likely open your eyes to the important cause of women’s penal reform. Or perhaps just cause you to question certain elements of security procedures in this particular prison. They don’t make ’em like this anymore; especially not with this cast.

Dir: Paul Nicholas
Star: Linda Blair, Stella Stevens, John Vernon, Sybil Danning

Double Threat

★★½
“2-for-1 is not always a great deal.”

If Ryan looks familiar, that’s because she is. She starred in Survivor – no, the other film by that name – and also 626 Evolution, making a fairly decent impression in the former, and let down significantly by the approach of the latter. There, she was billed as Danielle Chuchran: not sure if the name change is a result of marriage, or simply a realization that “Ryan” is a lot easier to remember. Whether you will want to is a different matter: she’s likely the best thing in this, and when it appears, the action is decent. There just isn’t enough of it, and the stuff between the set-pieces ranges from mediocre to cringeworthy.

It begins in a convenience store, where Jimmy (Lawrence, who a very long time ago, was one of the kids in Mrs. Doubtfire!) is chatting up the pretty clerk, Natasha (Ryan). Two armed mem show up: before Jimmy can blink, Natasha has killed them both, grabbed her bug-out bag and exited. A stunned Jimmy decides not to stick around, and drives off, only for Natasha to pop up in the back. Turns out the store was a front for the mob to launder money, and she had skimmed $600,000. They – in particular, the boss’s son, Ellis (Joy) and his top fixer, Ask (Olivieri) – are out to make an example of her. Yet there’s one big twist which might work in her favour: Natasha has a split personality. 

There’s Nat, the sensible, quiet one. Then there’s Tasha, the unrepentant bad-ass who can take very good care of herself. Jimmy has to try and figure out what to do, and with whom, when all he really wants to do is get to the ocean and scatter the ashes of his late brother. Meanwhile, Ellis is bickering with Ask, and being brow-beaten with his father. If this all sounds like a lot: it is. The film basically tries to do too much, and ends up doing little of it justice. It’s the male characters who drag it down: Jimmy is vanilla pudding, while Ellis is a whiny little puppy. Just pit Ask against Nat and Tasha, and be done with it.

Ryan does know how to handle herself in action. The best sequence has her taking on two thugs in hand-to-hand combat, while Jimmy fails to figure out how to operate a gun. This is imaginative and well-done, using her agility, speed and flexibility to counter their strength. On the other hand, then there’s the bit where she steals a bow and a horse from some LARPers and… Sorry, I’ve lost the will to type it out. The film needs to pick a tone and stick to it, Stanley not being able to pull off the shifts necessary. That’s even aside from qualms about the glib use of mental illness as convenient plot device, Nat or Tasha showing up exactly when needed. I hope Ryan can find a better vehicle for her talents, since she deserves better. 

Dir: Shane Stanley
Star: Danielle C. Ryan, Matthew Lawrence, Kevin Joy, Dawn Olivieri

Swamp Women

★★★
“Marsh ado about nothing.”

One of the earliest films directed by Roger Corman, it’d be a major stretch to call this a good film, yet I can’t deny I found it entertaining. It definitely has better female characters than most movies of the mid-fifties. Four women break out of jail and head into the swamps, in search of stolen diamonds which were previously hidden in the Louisiana swamps. Except, one of them is an undercover police officer, Lee Hampton (Mathews), who had been inserted into prison to join the gang and lead the escape, in the hope of recovering the loot. After the car breaks down, they hijack a boat owned by an oil prospector, Bob, and his girlfriend, taking them hostage as they head deeper into the bayou.

Things unfold more or less as you’d expect, though not exactly how Lee would have planned. There’s dissension in the ranks, fighting between the women for the attentions of Bob, encounters with native wildlife, and copious amounts of stock footage. The last is both of Mardi Gras in New Orleans and expensive elements like helicopters, helping pad the running-time, though it still comes in on the underside of seventy minutes. By all accounts, there was hardly a corner which Corman left uncut, such as the women doing their own stunts. Mike Connors, who played Bob, said, “The girls in that picture had it much worse than I did… They had to trudge through the mud, the swamps, pulling this rowboat, and I was sitting in the rowboat high and dry.”

Characterization beyond Lee is largely limited to the colour of the women’s hair – blonde, brunette, or redhead – though Josie (Marie Windsor, the star of Outlaw Women) is effective as the de facto leader of the group. It is nice there’s no attempt made to give them boyfriends or husbands. They make their own decisions, and follow through with them, entirely on their own terms. This brand of mid-fifties feminism results in more than one instance of them rolling around in the swamp, cat-fighting each other. Somehow, their hair, clothes and make-up miraculously seem to escape any kind of damage in these brawls, and return to pristine condition for the next scene.

On the way to the finale, Vera (Garland) tries to sneak off with both the jewels and Bob, paying the price for her treachery. The authorities manage to lose track of the group, and Josie grows increasingly suspicious of Lee’s resistance to violence. The leader eventually orders Lee to kill Bob; the shots fired in the ensuing fracas are enough, conveniently, to attract the search party, while Vera and Lee battle through the forest and – inevitably, into the water. It’s all entirely ridiculous, and the scope for parody makes it easy to understand why it was MST3K‘d. Yet even at this early stage, Corman clearly understood that the worst crime a B-movie can commit it is to be boring. For all its flaws, Swamp Women is never that.

Dir: Roger Corman
Star: Carole Mathews, Marie Windsor, Beverly Garland, Jill Jarmyn

My Sisters


“Sisters that’ll have you crying for mercy.”

This felt oddly familiar, like I had watched it before. One scene in particular – a maintenance man comes to replace a light-bulb, only to become an apparent threat – had me certain I had seen this. But no review of it existed, either here or Film Blitx, my non-GWG site. [For, make no mistake, its credentials here are fringey at best.] My working theory is that I probably fell asleep and missed so much, I deemed it impossible to review, then forgot about it entirely. Yet here we are. I managed to stay awake for an adequate amount of time this viewing, though full disclosure: I did have to pause it about 15 minutes in. I’m still reviewing it  – mostly so I don’t go round the loop a third time.

The hook here is that the whole thing was filmed in 24 hours, something touted by, it feels, every member of the cast and crew during the end credits. On the one hand, it is quite an impressive achievement, considering even the quickest of quota quickies would still need several days [Though 24 hours would be an eternity for Rendez-vous, shot using one take, the first, and thus filmed in under two hours] To the movie’s credit, technically it looks pretty good. The audio is a little ropey in places, however. My question would be: why film it in one day? What did this add to the film? For it seems no more than a pointless gimmick.

Not least because it feels as if the script was also tossed together in a day, easily representing the movie’s weakest element, and bouncing back and forth in time like a meth-crazed ping-pong ball. I’m unsure whether the tedium it induces is a result of its lack of coherence, or if it would have been just as dull with a more conventional narrative. The basic idea is a women’s support group, who decided to become vigilantes, helping their “sisters” who are trapped in abusive relationships by targetting their abusers. [It’s odd that I watched this the same day as the similarly themed Ride or Die. At least that admitted to the psychosis in its vigilante.]

This leads them into conflict with a shadowy men’s support group, the Freemen Society, who don’t take kindly to the women’s actions. The film does a particularly poor job of defining its antagonists, who remain a nebulous threat for the bulk of the running time, and are bad because we are told they are. Yet we discover at the end that one of the women has been an unreliable narrator all along, lying even to the rest of the support group. We are given no particular reason to care about them: there is far too much talk, and the dialogue consists of little more than a series of buzzwords that, presumably, made more sense back in 2020, during the white heat of people giving a damn about #MeToo. That concept has aged like Amber Heard’s milk, and combined with mediocre execution and flat-out terrible writing, these are sisters who need to be doing it to themselves.

Dir: Adam Justice Hardy
Star: Sara Young Chandler, Shanera Richardson, Nadia Marina, Diana Sanchez

Ride or Die

★½
“Die, please.”

This is not to be confused with the rather higher profile i.e. it’s available on Netflix, Japanese film with the same title, made the same year, and covering a not dissimilar theme. Both are about a woman who is prepared to commit murder, in order to save their best friend from an abusive relationship. However, after the killing in question, the films take divergent paths. The Japflix version becomes a road-trip movie, with the killer and her friend going on the run. This, however, focuses heavily on the killer, whose already fragile mental state falls apart completely, after she discovers that things weren’t quite as she had been led to believe. It’s not her first time at the homicide rodeo either.

For that to work, it needs to have a convincing relationship at its core, and this fails miserably on that level. Ashley (Allen) may be willing to do anything for Mandy (Brooks), but we are never shown why this might be the case: just told it, and expected to accept this at face-value. It’s less credible than the BFFs in Jennifer’s Body, and that is a low bar indeed. It doesn’t help that Brooks is, to put it bluntly, one of the worst actresses I’ve seen given a major role in a movie for a very long time. Yet she’s not ever the worst in this movie: that goes to the “grandmother” who recites her lines from off-screen. My granny would have delivered them with greater conviction, and she has been dead for approaching forty years.

Allen is, at least relatively, watchable, with a smokey voice which makes her resemble a young version of Yancy Butler. The film did manage to hold my attention for about 20 minutes. This began with Ash shooting the abusive boyfriend (Rehman) in the face, and having to deal with an unexpected witness (Blundon), and runs through the revelation that upends Ashley’s worldview. However, the movie singularly fails to do anything significant with it, and all the hallucinatory nonsense thereafter, with Ash being visited by her victims, was completely unable to re-ignite my interest. There is zero development, and too many strands are painstakingly set up, only to go nowhere, e.g. the nosy waitress, another performance which it would be kind to call thoroughly wretched.

The complete lack of any official interest in the killing spree is understandable, the budget clearly not stretching to any forces in authority. Yet this does not excuse the second half degenerating into dull scenes of Ashley driving around, mindless chit-chat or PG-rated lesbian canoodling with more people who can’t emote their way out of a moist paper-bag. In (marginal) defense, they are not helped by a number of scenes apparently being re-dubbed in post, or a musical score that doesn’t so much complement the on-screen action, as compete vigorously with it for attention. It’s a race to the bottom there, and neither aspect gets out of here alive.

Dir: Aly Hardt
Star: Vanessa Allen, Hannah Brooks, Celeste Blandon, Raavian Rehman

Where We Disappear

★★★
“A chilly tale of isolation”

It’s the end of World War II in Russia, and Anastasia (Haig) is at the station to welcome her husband home from the front. Except, realizing he is still the same abusive jerk he was, she stabs him dead. This gets her an extended stay in a Siberian gulag, as a guest of HM Stalin’s government, a situation for which she is entirely unsuited. As soon as she arrives in the remote prison, the first cabin-mate she meets comments on the softness of her hands, and she’s told she won’t survive a week. The biggest threat, however, may not be the Arctic conditions, but the other inmates. In particular, Masha (Andersen), who has taken over as leader after previous top dog, Lubov (Isabelle), suffered an “accident”. The question is, what is Anastasia prepared to do, and how far will she go, in order to survive?

Although this lasts only 73 minutes, end-to-end, it feels longer. That isn’t particularly a bad thing, since it’s mostly a reflection of the near-constant tension. There’s a perpetual sense of menace here, with violence and abuse – physical, mental or spiritual – always lurking just beneath the surface, whether from guards or other prisoners. That tends to make for a stressful experience for the viewer, as they can never relax. The pace is relentless. Things unfold not quite in real time after Anastasia’s arrival, but it does take place over her first night there. Another prisoner escapes, and the women have to decide how to handle that, especially with Lubov, who has a “cozy” relationship with one of the guards, now indisposed. Fresh meat Anastasia and her soft hands is the obvious replacement; not a task she’s willing to take on. Eventually, she’s coerced into the task, which doesn’t unfold as anyone expects.

This was based on Arthur M. Jolly’s stage play, A Gulag Mouse, and its origins in the theatre are frequently clear, both in the limited locations and importance placed on  dialogue. It might have been nice had Fink taken greater advantage of the freedoms afforded by cinema, but I imagine the claustrophobic atmosphere generated is entirely intentional. I must confess to being rather confused by the final act, which seems to throw the hard realism in which the rest of the picture is grounded, completely out of the window. By the end, I was far from clear how much of what I’d witnessed previously, had taken place in any subjective reality. It could be virtually any number from zero to a hundred percent, and I found its unwillingness to commit somewhat aggravating.

However, the performances are well-executed, each drawing the different aspects of their characters well. Andersen perhaps stands out, as a woman whose presence in the gulag is due to something far darker than the “stealing an apple” to which she blithely confesses. There’s enough potential generated in the first hour for a 13-episode series, and it’s a bit of a shame that the ending proves incapable of doing it justice.

Dir: Simon Fink
Star: Georgina Haig, Jolene Andersen, Katharine Isabelle, Vera Cherny

Ballistic

★★
“Can’t spell Ballistic without balls…”

You know you’re in for a slice of stinky, nineties action cheese from the opening sequence. Undercover cop Jesse (Holden) has just taken down a sleazy yuppie drug-dealer, and a homeless woman tells her, “You know what you are, sweetie? You’re ballistic!” We probably need to explain why the film is titled that way, because there’s really not an enormous amount of great action here to justify it. Jesse is your typical, no-nonsense cop, who has just transferred from homicide to the Urban Crime Taskforce, where she is meeting resistance from her new colleagues. She is also trying to help her father (Roundtree), a former cop now doing 20 years after being framed with kilos of coke.

Jesse inevitably makes enemies: she comes under suspicious when a witness is killed on her watch, and is then suspected of the murder of the other cop who was in the safe-house. In reality, it’s all a plot by “respectable businessman” Braden (Jones), who inevitably is a dealer in both drugs and illegal weapons. He runs illegal fights in a warehouse lined with cardboard boxes: his top henchman, the person who killed the cop, is actually a woman, Claudia (the impressive looking body-builder Corinna Everson), and we get a small role from Michael Jai White, who would go on to considerably better things than this. As would the movie’s composer, Tyler Bates, and the cast also includes veteran cult actor Charles Napier as Jesse’s superior.

Despite a relatively good cast, it’s largely dull, often almost painfully so, with the action scenes suffering from a particularly brutal style of editing. Holden comes at at six foot even in height, towering over some of her male co-stars even when not wearing high heels, and does have a degree of film presence. It’s just that Bass, making his directorial debut, does not appear to have any idea of how she should be used. Early on, she’s treated as not much more than a slice of cheesecake, e.g. the opening credits feature Jesse showering in slo-mo, for no reason beyond titillation. The sex scenes with her boyfriend (a character which serves no purpose) are little better, and you could make the case Claudia is actually treated more seriously than the heroine.

The film does at least have the courtesy to give us a fight between the two women, though like much of the rest, the results are far from overwhelming, with them lazily snapping kicks toward each other, at a glacial pace. That’s about the peak as far as Jesse is concerned, with the movie’s climax thereafter largely involving a lot of running round the warehouse by everyone involved. It’s difficult to believe this kind of feature would ever have passed muster, even in the days of straight to video schlock. Though given this was the effective end of Holden’s career as a leading lady, perhaps it didn’t.

Dir:  Kim Bass
Star: Marjean Holden, Sam J. Jones, James Lew, Richard Roundtree
a.k.a. Fist of Justice