Tuesday, June 29, 2010

Mace #1: Manor Books Delves into the Kung-Fu Craze


Mace #1: The Year of the Tiger, by Lee Chang

Manor Books, 1973

The most thrilling, action-packed series ever published!

Hey, would Manor Books lie to you? You bet they wouldn't! (And besides, if you said they would lie to you, they'd probably send some guys over to have a little chat with you...) But here's one case where the hyperbolic cover blurb really does speak truth: the "Mace" series truly could make a claim for being the most action-packed series ever published.

But then, that's all it is. Action -- fight after fight after fight. Minutely-detailed scenes of lead character Victor Mace smashing apart mob scum, beating them senseless and killing them with single blows to various body parts.

Plot...what plot? Who needs a plot?

Here's the story. Mace, raised and trained in a Hong Kong Shaolin Temple, comes to San Francisco to visit his half-brother and his uncle. The local mob wants to use his uncle's boat; the Greeks are bringing in some heroin and the mob wants a "non-Syndicate" boat for the trade, to ward off suspicion. Mace's uncle refuses to comply. The mob puts on the pressure. Mace beats the shit out of them. Again and again and again.

That's it. That's the story.

Yes, we are in the hellish, sordid, and downright bizarre world of Joseph Rosenberger -- here posing as Lee Chang (you know, so this novel seems legitimate). Rosenberger is most "famous" as the sole writer of the Death Merchant series...80+ volumes spanning two decades, each book nothing but fight after fight after fight, with lead character Richard Camellion blowing apart his enemies.

Character...who needs character?

Mace is THE GOOD GUY. The mobsters are THE BAD GUYS. That's it.

Perfect in every way, trained since childhood to kill in a plethora of methods, Mace is more of an idealized he-man than anything else. On top of which he's so complacent as to come off like an arrogant ass; after a while I started to root for the mobsters, hoping they'd at least get a punch in. Or maybe a bullet or two. But no; Mace wades through this book as unstoppable as a Terminator. Nothing stops him, nothing fazes him. Therefore all dramatic impact is lost and the book becomes a tiresome slugfest, the literary equivalent of a Bruce Le movie. (Bruce Le, not Bruce Lee -- I'm referring to the lowest of the Bruceploitation clones, the guy who gave us such monstrosities as Enter the Game of Death.)

Year of the Tiger was the start of an 8-volume series. It appears in later volumes Mace becomes a CIA operative; here's hoping this opens up the stories a bit more. Because the story for Year of the Tiger is so narrow as to have tunnel-vision; you start to wonder why the mobsters don't just say "We fucking give up -- let's go get some other guy's boat for the trade!"

Later volumes branded "Mace" on the cover, but this first volume doesn't even feature his name. Instead, "Kung Fu" blazes across the cover -- capitalizing of course on the then-popular Kung-Fu TV series starring David Carradine. Manor Books never met a fad they didn't capitalize on.

Year of the Tiger is so based upon the Kung-Fu template as to be plagiaristic: Mace's name is similar to Carradine's Cane; Mace too was raised in a Shaolin Temple, only to leave it for San Francisco (same place Cane voyaged to); and just as the Kung-Fu show would feature flashbacks to Cane's training in the Temple, so too will Mace flash back to his own training...sometimes in the most odd of circumstances. (Though my favorite is when, after a massive fight with the mob, Mace flashes back to, guess what, another fight, one he fought during his childhood -- and it's just as endless as the fight scene we just endured.)

Beyond his usual bad writing, Rosenberger also specializes in poorly-researched "facts." Of them all my favorite is his explanation of the book's title. Mace speculates on the "violent" nature of the US, and decides that if there was a year for the US, it would be the "Year of the Tiger." However, Mace further speculates, "the last Year of the Tiger was in the 1800s." I guess Rosenberger didn't realize that the signs of the Chinese Zodiac revolve every several years; further, the next Year of the Tiger was 1974, the year after this novel was published!

But for all his banalities, Rosenberger pulls the most odd turns of phrase out of his head. Mobsters "so ugly Frankenstein would've pulled a double-take," narratives which take up the thoughts of the goon about to be killed: "He threw a punch. What the hell? Yeah -- why not!" Rosenberger also (unwittingly) takes the book into the metaphysical realm, often informing us how the mobsters go to hell upon dying beneath Mace's flailing limbs.

Every few pages there's another brain-wrecking Rosenbergerism, but this one's my favorite in Year of the Tiger, as Mace destroys yet another goon:

Instant death as the blood supply to the man's brain was cut off! The hood felt stupid when he woke up and found himself sitting in the middle of hell!

That line pretty much tells you all you need to know about Year of the Tiger...!

Monday, June 28, 2010

Exterminator 2, 1984



In 1980 Writer-Director James Glickenhaus delivered The Exterminator, a lurid piece of exploitation riding on the dying coat-tails of the grindhouse world; four years later this follow-up was released to maybe 13 theaters nationwide, however Glickenhaus had moved on. The sequel was directed by Mark Buntzman, who had produced the original film. But whereas Glickenhaus had made more of a horror/gore film with the slight trappings of an action movie, Buntzman instead delivered a full-on, OTT '80s action movie, which was the style of the time.

Actually, word has it that the true story is a bit more than that. Apparently Buntzman did create a lurid movie along the lines of The Exterminator, however since the sequel was being released by those fine purveyors of Stupid Action Movies, The Canon Group, the workprint Buntzman turned in was deemed unreleasable by Canon standards and so a wealth of new material was shot, all of it action scenes.

Leading man Robert Ginty returns as John "Exterminator" Eastland. As the movie poster claims: "In the Exterminator he made the streets of New York safe. All has been quiet -- until now!" Leaving aside the absurd second sentence -- when have the streets of New York ever been "quiet?" -- Eastman is a middling lead character at best. A 'Nam vet who got vengeance in the first film, here he's a cipher who stumbles about NYC with vacant eyes.

Or maybe that's just Ginty himself, never the most vibrant (or memorable) of actors:
















Four years out from the horrific events of the first film he's kind of just wandering through life. Meanwhile, the streets of NYC are on fire, a gang of goofy street punks waging war against the unprotected masses. They're led by a man named "X," a self-styled messiah of the streets:
















Yes, that's Mario Van Peebles.

What more needs be said about a movie when you realize that Mario Van Peebles is the best actor in it??

X's laughable army of "street punks," all of whom look like they just walked out of a cheap Italian knock-off of Escape from New York, are cutting a swathe of destruction through New York. Robbing licquor stores -- where they even kill the elderly owners! -- kidnapping young women, setting up deals with the Mob to bring in a new drug with which they plan to control Harlem...and then the city!

Enter the Exterminator, who fries a whole bunch of 'em:














































In between punk-incenerating, Eastman romances a young lady who dances in a bar. This "romantic subplot" is ludicrous at best, as Eastman/Ginty exudes ZERO chemistry; it would be more believable if the young lady was a hooker, someone merely spending time with him in exchange for cash. The entire feel of this subplot is unrelated to the rest of the film. But I guess we're to believe that the baby-faced Eastman is really just a nice guy...that is, when he isn't wearing a welder's mask and torturing/burning street punks half his age.

Here I must mention the INCREDIBLY CHEAP SETS this movie is graced with, particularly the bar in which Eastman's girl dances:
















Now check out this DOCTOR'S OFFICE:
















And the bar again -- complete with a stage that looks like it was just used for some kindergarten show 'n' tell:
















So as you can see, the budget was a bit limited for Exterminator 2. Even the soundtrack is laughable; to say that it sounds like a video game would be a complement. It's even more inept than that.

The direction too is plodding -- but then, that might not be all Buntzman's doing. From what I've read, Exterminator 2 was envisioned and produced as another sick little bit of exploitation, but, again, the Canon Group deemed otherwise. New footage was filmed, particularly for the end. What's crazy is the end is the best part of the movie -- Eastman turns his garbage truck into a city tank, dons his welder's mask, and wages a one-man war on X and his army.

Only, that's not Ginty behind the mask. Apparently, all of the stuff you see in Exterminator 2 with a masked Eastman is footage filmed after the main production wrapped; all of it is footage inserted at the behest of Canon to increase the action quotient.

Even without knowing this, the dichotomy is apparent. The fact that you don't see Ginty's face for the last 20 minutes or so is a pretty big giveaway; it's as if he's suddenly become Batman and must don his trusty mask before he can combat the foe. It just seems goofy, especially given the lurid nature of the first film.

That being said, the action, escpecialy in the finale, isn't bad. Lots of explosions, flame thrower action, and submachine guns blasting on full auto. It culminates of course with Eastman and X battling mano e mano, but this itself is goofy -- though what other movie could you name that features flame thrower versus Uzi?

All told, this is a forgettable movie done cheaply and quick -- and it disappeared shortly after bombing in theaters. Exterminator 2 has never been released on DVD; I got my copy from Craig over at European Trash Cinema. His DVDR is taken from the international release of the film, which features 4 scenes not in the US release. The picture's a bit blurry and washed out (as the screengrabs above attest), but it's the best we've got for now -- and I don't see a Blu Ray/Special Edition of Exterminator 2 coming out anytime soon.

Friday, June 25, 2010

TNT: The Movie

By now my obsession with the men's adventure series TNT should be quite obvious. So let's pursue that obsession even further...

One thing that's always struck me as strange is how few movies were ever made from the once-ubiquitous "men's adventure" novels which were all the rage in the '70s through the '80s. I mean, there was never a Mack Bolan movie, never a Death Merchant movie. Sure, in '85 we got Remo Williams: The Adventure Begins, a lame film adaptation of the Destroyer series...and in '77 we had Black Samurai, starring Jim "Enter the Dragon" Kelley, but why weren't more of these books snatched up by quickie film producers? I can't imagine the rights would've cost all that much.

As I detailed in my review of TNT #1, the series was originally published in France before coming out in English translations here in the US, starting in 1985. So let's say someone decided to make a movie of these things...let's say production started around 1986, right at the pinnacle of the '80s action phenomenon. I'd imagine it would be the Canon Group, or some other direct-to-video production company; it would be easy to imagine some big-budget realization of the series but let's keep this fantasy based at least a little in reality.

So, who would play Tony Nicholas Twin -- aka the "TNT" of the series?

Twin is described in the novels as tall and very thin, with long hands and a feline grace. Apparently he's handsome enough to be popular with the ladies, but when he's pissed his features can instill terror in his enemies. But all told Twin is established as a mostly nondescript guy -- which, really, is the point character, as this air of unimportance masks his super-powers.

The anonymous cover artist at Charter Books said to hell with this description and gave us, basically, a faux Arnold Schwarzenegger. I mean, nondescript leading characters don't sell men's adventure novels, do they? TNT #1 was published in January, 1985. Who was at the top of the action-movie field in 1985? Arnold was, that's who. Charter Books knew what to do.

The cover of TNT #1 seems, to me at least, totally indebted to the famous promo shot of Arnold from the first Terminator. Just compare:




















Seems pretty similar to me...but then again what do I know about crass marketing moves?

Like I said, if the TNT series had been adapted into film, I think it would've been more of a low-budget sorta thing, so Schwarzenegger's out. As low-budget as they look today, Arnold's films at the time were major features. Who then could play our title character?

Since I first saw these TNT covers in the mid-'80s, one other actor has come to mind besides Schwarzenegger -- Brian Thompson. One of those supporting-actors you might know when you see, even if you don't recognize the name; you might remember him best as the pantyhose-masked, axe-wielding cult leader "The Night Slasher" in Stallone's ultra-violent, men's-adventure-novel-esque Cobra.

Take a look and see for yourself, comparing a headshot of Thompson with the cover of TNT #6: Ritual of Blood:




















Now there's a Tony Nicholas Twin. Same handsome yet fearsome looks, same square jaw, same haunting eyes. Even the same cadaver-like sunken cheeks!

I first became aware of the TNT series as they were being published in '85/'86, and when I saw Cobra (in the theater with my mom -- who walked out of the showing because Thompson and his fellow cultists scared the shit out of her, believe it or not), even then I thought this guy resembled the character depicted on the TNT covers. (Of course at the time I hadn't even read the series, but I was aware of it.)

And besides, given our '86 production date, Arnold was busy with Raw Deal, right?

Of course, Twin would have to be an American in the film version...can't have an Irish lead character in an '80s action film, can we? And despite the character's aversion to weapons he'd have guns blazing at all times.

So who'd direct? I'd recommend either James Glickenhaus (who gave us the very men's adventure-esque The Exterminator) or George Cosmatos, director of Cobra. Both of these guys knew how to deliver lurid, fast-moving tales with gunfire and blood squibs to spare. And the soundtrack would be the usual Radio Shack-sounding synthesizers heard in every mid-'80s action film.

Well, it's nice to dream, at least.

Thursday, June 24, 2010

TNT #2: The Beast


TNT #2: The Beast, by Doug Masters
March, 1985 Charter Books
(French publication, 1978)

Tony Nicholas Twin returns in The Beast, the second volume of Charter Books's TNT series. Even though it was #2 here in the US, this was actually published as volume #3 in the original French series (as Le Bete Du Goulag, aka "The Gulag Beast," cover below) . But this is immaterial, because like with most men's adventure novels, each volume of TNT is pretty much self-contained.

Once again Twin is forced against his will into some harebrained impossible mission; we meet him as he awakens from a drugged stupor to find himself strapped into a SR-71 Blackbird, flying at a few hundred thousand feet over USSR-controlled Kazakhstan. It appears he's been kidnapped, drugged, and deposited into this plane by Arnold Benedict, Twin's archenemy-cum employer from TNT #1. Benedict is as twisted as ever; contacted by Chinese operatives, Benedict accepts their request to spring the leader of a mysterious terrorist cell from an impregnable prison in Kazakhstan. One so super-guarded that escape from it is so impossible as to be laughable. Benedict's price for this mission? A few Ming-era vases. (This is only our first reminder that TNT is not your normal men's adventure series; Benedict could care less about politics or global security.)

Whereas TNT #1 operated like two novels in one, with the first half the origin of Twin's heightened abilities (seeing in the dark, sexual insatiability, etc) and the second half his navigating a death-maze in South Africa, The Beast is more of a unified piece. And it also moves faster; TNT #1's first half came off like a belabored game of cat and mouse, with Benedict hounding Twin on down through America and into Mexico. It was entertaining, to be sure, but filled with ultimately pointless bits like Twin meeting a Mexican beauty who staged live snuff plays in her home. The Beast opens with Twin strapped alone into a Blackbird flying on auto-pilot over Soviet airspace and it doesn't let up until the final page. The novel takes place over the course of a hectic few days and the narrative snaps along accordingly. And whereas TNT #1 spanned the globe, The Beast takes place in Kazahkstan and Iran (where we get confirmation that the events in the novel take place before the 1985 US publication date, as the Shah is mentioned as still being in control of Iran...meaning The Beast occurs before the 1979 Iranian revolution).

Twin's mission this time is to enter a secret base in Kazakhstan which serves as a high-security prison, one run by a blind KGB colonel who wears mirrored sunglasses and can "see" people via their aura-patterns. (Due to which the soldiers in the base have nicknamed him "The Bat.") He's also inhumanly cruel and enjoys the smell of freshly-gutted corpses. Benedict's employers want a Kazakhstan rebel freed from the prison; the CIA also approaches Benedict, asking him to free a man they want escaped from the prison, this one a Soviet scientist named Vilunskhas who has created a pink metal which is paper-thin but indestructable. He's also created a super-weapon named "The Beast," but no one knows what exactly it is.

Twin parachutes from the self-destructing SR-71 and, after escaping a few regiments of Soviet soldiers who just happen to be performing night-time wargames in the dropzone, meets up with his Kazakhstan contacts. One's an attractive Kazakhstanian who calls herself "Arkady" and who claims to be Twin's "Trump Card." The other's a massive Russkie named Valka who can deadlift nearly 700 pounds and who wears green curlers in his red beard. But as in TNT #1, Twin doesn't appreciate being forced to do things against his will and escapes; a well-done chase scene follows, one in which Twin ensconces himself in a tanker full of caviar, but, as in TNT #1, it's all rendered unecessary.

Finally Twin is sent into the Kazakhstan base/prison. Like TNT #1, this is really just a death-maze, one Twin must navigate to achieve his goal. If however The Beast is inferior in any way to its predecessor, it would be here -- for the death trap in this novel is nowhere as bizarre or horrifying as the one in TNT #1. But then again, how COULD it be?

TNT #1 had a death-maze called "The Seven Circles of Hell;" here Twin has to travel through a few thousand feet of underwater pipeline into the inner heart of the prison, where after a few detours he finds himself in a football field-sized space from which dangle the corpses of prisoners. It's here that Twin has his one sexual interlude of the tale (not with one of the corpses!); the sex scene is more detailed than those that occured in TNT #1. But still The Beast retains the almost clinical narrative of TNT #1; gore is minimal despite the occasional gunfire, and when people are killed it's dealt with in an almost perfunctory level. And here again Twin himself never handles a weapon; instead the few times he kills he does so with his hands, smashing men's heads into walls or "severing" their spinal columns with a karate chop.

Buried within the prison is "The Beast" itself: a massive, rolling construction of that indestructable pink metal, weighing several tons, floating on an air cushion, and powered by a nuclear engine. Twin and his comrades escape on it, rolling through several thousand miles of Soviet terrain, destroying everything in their wake and surviving all manner of attacks. For the metal truly is indestructable. After a while this wears a little thin -- drama is about struggle, and it's no fun when the hero can just roll away untouched from the mouth of hell. But Doug Masters is a better writer than that; the Soviets finally unleash their ultimate weapon on The Beast, and its occupants suffer the consequences in a horrible way. This is another facet of Masters's genius; when his characters do suffer or die, it always leaves a bitter taste of remorse in the reader's mouth. Strong characters make strong impressions.

Because beyond the good writing, surreal plots, and outrageous developments, one thing that sets "Doug Masters" apart from the men's adventure lot is his characters. To a one, each is memorable. Only Twin himself comes off as boring, but I'm certain this is just another of Masters's tricks. For unlike other men's adventure leads like Mack Bolan or The Butcher, men who are driven to madness to perform their duties, Twin takes part in his missions against his will, and indeed goes about things with an almost blase lack of care. At one point he even appears to fall asleep while Arkady's relating how dangerous the prison is he's about to be sent into. A recurring joke is that everyone assumes he's American, no matter how many times he insists he's Irish.

But the supporting characters shine. Valka is especially memorable: bigger than life in more ways than one, getting all the best one-liners despite his broken English. Arkady (aka Marina -- not to go into detail but there's a "surprise" over the Trump Card's real name, one which I felt was uneccessary) is quiet, determined, and despite her youth and inexperience has caused a few nations to nearly come to war. Vilunskhas the scientist has an ego which more than makes up for his small stature, barrelling through the prison once Twin's arrived and bossing everyone around as he gets his vengeance on his captors. There's Dawlish, a Royal Navy operative who works for Benedict, a sterling Brit who cultivates his moustache and reads Rudyard Kipling in between killing countless Iranian and Russian soldiers (though it's taken him a few decades to make it through 90 pages). Benedict himself doesn't appear nearly as much as he did in TNT #1, but when he does appear he's always entertaining. And Twin's mentally-retarded daughter October barely appears at all, only mentioned in passing and then showing up for the happy (for now) ending on Twin's estate in Ireland.

And yet no matter how outrageous the characters are, Masters always finds a way to reign them in on a human level: Valka, despite his bravado, lives in shame that he was banned from the Olympics due to thievery. Marina matter-of-factly relates one of the most horrifying torture sequences I've ever read, one which she endured at the hands of The Bat, and it is her one desire to experience pleasure at least once in her life before dying. All of the characters spring to life, even those who appear for a handful of sentences.

It's hard to convey in words how much I love this series.

As promised, here is the original French cover of this novel -- again, it was published third in the series in France, with the title Le Bete Du Goulag (aka The Gulag Beast):

Mondo #1: Sony Chiba meets Mack Bolan...



Mondo Volume 1, by Anthony De Stefano
Manor Books, 1975

Thanks to Justin Marriott of The Paperback Fanatic for recommending this -- a perfect slice of the exploitative goodness Manor Books specialized in churning out in the '70s. Manor was known for being a bit more hardcore than most other men's adventure publishers; the series they published excelled in blood, gore, and sex, and most all of them were as lurid as the average grindhouse flick.

In fact, it's a surprise Mondo was never picked up by some production company and turned into a grindhouse flick. It's got everything 42nd Street connosseurs demanded: ultraviolence, crime, whores, torture, and sex.

Tapping into the kung-fu craze much as the earlier Manor series Mace had, Mondo combines martial arts carnage with Mack Bolan/Executioner-style gun-porn. The book comes off like the grindhouse classic Rolling Thunder meets Sonny Chiba's Streetfighter.

John Mondo is the lead character, and like most leads in a men's adventure novel he's a cipher: though we occasionally get into his head we never see what makes him tick, we never learn who he was before he became the blank slate of death who stars in this first installment of a three-volume series. We meet him here as an alcoholic bum, a burnt-out shadow of his former self. Once a happily married father, Mondo's son was killed in an accident caused by mobsters. Estranged from his wife, he's lived the past few years on the streets. And he's one mean motherfucker; the opening few pages detail a joyriding group of yuppies who come afoul of Mondo. He beats the shit out of the lot of them, women included.

Once a high-ranking thief, Mondo quit the life to raise his family, performing "one last job." This is the one which went wrong and left him a shell of his former self, his son dead, and his wife gone. For whatever reason the mob decides that, even though some time has passed, Mondo's still a liability, so now they're looking for him.

Mondo #1 is all about Mondo's return to who he once was and his vengeance upon those who ruined his life. Why he waited so long to do so goes unanswered. But once he's spurned back into action Mondo is as unstoppable as a force of nature. He plows through everyone: pimps, insurance-frauding nuns (in one memorable moment he face-punches a crooked nun), prostitutes, mobsters, even kung-fu masters. He employs his fists most of the time, however the martial arts scenes aren't as detailed as those in Mace. Like Sonny Chiba, Mondo fights loose and dirty; no fancy spinning back kicks for him. Instead, he goes for the fatal points. In one grueling sequence he kills a pimp by delivering a savage palm-strike to the man's balls.

Which makes it all the stranger that, midway through the book, Mondo hooks up with an elderly Japanese teacher so he can learn...martial arts. I say strange because previous to this we've already seen Mondo kick the shit out of innumerable people, so what exactly is there left for him to learn? But at any rate this sequence serves its likely purpose: filling up pages. Mondo learns to control his rage (to a point) and also learns more deadly tricks of the trade. And all of it of course is delivered in the usual lack of research one would expect from Manor: for example, Mondo calls the old man "sensi," which, we're told, is Japanese for "teacher." There are some other laughable gaffes as well, but this one was my favorite.

As the novel rushes toward its conclusion we realize that Anthony De Stefano might have more up his sleeve than just delivering another action-packed piece of Manor exploitation. For it gradually becomes clear to all the characters that, no matter how much vengeance he achieves, John Mondo will never find redemption or peace. He kills and kills in his single-minded determination to find justice for his dead son, but with each death he only becomes more grim. Even his friends soon turn away from him. And finally Mondo himself accepts what he becomes, realizes that no matter what he does, he has stared too long into the abyss. This in itself is enough to send Mondo #1 into more literary realms than the average men's adventure novel; The Death Merchant, safe to say, never once even considered the implications of his wanton "pig farmer"-killing.

But this is a lurid novel. Everything is rendered in brutal tones; the action scenes are gory as a splatter-movie, everything taken to an extreme level -- my favorite being when Mondo "divorces" someone's face into two halves with his pistol and De Stefano writes, "The left side was awarded custody of the nose." There's also a gruesome scene, lovingly detailed, in which Mondo discovers the raped and mutilated corpse of his estranged wife. I think I was more upset with this than Mondo himself was! Even the sex scenes are brutal and deeply unerotic. But despite all of the exploitative content everything occurs on a "realistic" level; there are no albino dwarfs or Nazi torture-maidens or any other bizarre villains one might usually find lurking in these sorts of novels. The villains are just cut-rate mobsters, not even memorable, save for a Chinese kung-fu master they employ as a last recourse against Mondo's swathe of destruction.

The novel builds to an ending which, again, takes it out of the ordinary standard of men's adventure novels. But it's the only ending possible for Mondo -- and one wonders how De Stefano was able to deliver two more installments in the series, given what exactly happens in the ending. I guess I'll just have to read these final two installments to find out.

Wednesday, June 23, 2010

The Protector: OTT '80s Action...how it might have happened



Possible conversation between director James Glickenhaus and anonymous financial backer, early 1985:

"So James, let's hear what you've got."

"Uh, well, [name deleted], it's an idea I had for a cop flick. Two rogue officers, play by their own rules. Plus I've got some shit set in Hong Kong, like you asked."

"Good. Golden Harvest wants this to be a total US-Hong Kong venture. I hear the studio head, some guy named Chow, has had his greedy eyes on the US market for a while. Jackie Chan's his top attraction, I mean the guy's like a god over there. Chow wants to break him in the US market. This could be an opportunity for you, James. This guy could be the next Bruce Lee."

"Yeah, but that's Hong Kong, [name deleted]. If this Ching guy thinks he can go from being a superstar over there to cock of the block in Hollywood, I'm sorry, but he's fuckin nuts, you know?"

"I know where you're coming from, James. But this is still a great opportunity. And his name is Chan. So let's hear about the movie."

"Okay, so it opens with midgets. Midgets and dudes straight out of The Road Warrior. Mohawks, facepaint, armor."

"So this is a post-Apocalypse type thing?"

"No. No, they're just your average New York punks."

"Okay."

"So they rob a truck, right? And that's the intro for our boy. He shows up with his partner, right on the scene of the crime."

"He gets in a fight with the Road Warrior guys? I like that."

"No, no, those guys are gone. We only see em in the opening. Uh, Jack shows up after it's all over. But you know, we gotta set it up that New York's one dangerous place, right?"

"So Jackie and his partner go after the mohawk guys, then?"

"No, no, they go to a bar."

"A bar?"

"Right. Just to let off some steam, whatever."

"So you mean we don't even see these Road Warrior guys anymore? Or the midgets?"

"No, [name deleted], they got nothing to do with anything, okay? I just wanted to show some bizarre shit to get the ball rolling, you know?"

"Well, okay."

"All right. Let's say we've got these guys, I want em real hardcore, Vietnam vets lookin for the latest score. They're gonna rob a bar, right? In the middle of the day."

"Would the place even have any money?"

"Look, that doesn't matter. These guys are hardwired, right? I'm talkin Mac-10s, Uzis, M-16s. They go in, and get this, it's the same bar Jake and his partner just went into!"

"I like it!"

"Yeah. I mean, these guys are so hot to rob and kill, they just kinda charge on into the place. I mean, if one of em happens to bump into the door on the way in, we'll keep it in the print, you know?"

"Make it look real-to-life."

"You got it. And let's say they're holding the place up, and one of em --­ I kinda picture him as a big dumb guy who likes plush toys -- goes back to the john, and there's, uh, Jack back there, pissing. At least, that's how it looks. But then the little fucker turns around, right, and real quick we see he's got his .45 in his hands, instead of his cock. BLAM! Robber's guts all over the wall."

"I love it!"

"Maybe he could say something like, 'Can't a fuckin guy take a fuckin piss any-fuckin-more?' or somethin like that."

"Lot of 'fuckins,' there."

"He's a cop, right? 'Fuck' is his favorite word. I want this guy, this, uh -- ­"

"Chan."

"I want him to use 'fuck' as a noun, verb, adjective, adverb, all that shit. Fuck, I want im to use it as a pronoun."

"I don't see where he'd have a problem with that."

"But anyway, John's partner gets wasted during the gunfight in the bar. And speaking of which, this gunfight's gonna be the best ever. Slow-motion, guys screaming while they empty clips on full-auto. I got this image in mind where Jake shoots this one dude, and I'm gonna get this super-slow motion shot of the guy just getting tossed like a ragdoll through a window."

"Jackie's partner gets killed?"

"Yeah, so that way we can work in a revenge angle. But anyway, he gets a new partner. Preferably white. Can't have two ethnicities in the lead roles, right?"

"That's box office poison. That's death."

"Gotta be someone good lookin. For the ladies. I doubt this Charlie guy's got drop-dead good looks."

"It's 'Jackie.' So who're you thinking?"

"Two words: Danny Aiello."

"Perfect!"

"I got Danny's character in mind as a Vietnam vet, just as crazy as Jake's character is. Two supercops, right? Plus Danny's always lookin for a fight, plus he don't cotton to superiors, if you know what I mean. Hates authority. And everywhere he goes, he takes his Uzi. Got in mind lots of scenes of him screamin while he just lets loose a clip on full auto."

"That's great stuff. Maybe you can have it so that his clothing gets torn often. So he can show off his physique for the ladies."

"You got it. Okay, so halfway through the flick, Jeff and Danny are gonna go to Hong Kong. Let's say they're over there cause they're supposed to be protectin some chick, maybe the daughter of some American criminal. I have it in mind that they're at some fancy fashion show ­"

"With a catwalk and all that?"

"Nah, I was thinkin it could be more of a deal with models dancing, maybe a couple lights, you know. Then these crooks in ski masks just bust in the place and make off with her. And then Chen and Danny find out the next morning that she's been taken to Hong Kong."

"The crooks get her to Hong Kong overnight? That's impossible! I'm telling you, that's just impossible!"

"Say, I like that. I think I might give that line to Jake and Danny's chief. I've got a real good, original idea for the chief, by the way. He's always gonna be pissed off at the two of em, callin em 'supercops,' and shit. You know, just something totally different than what you'd normally see in a cop picture."

"Great!"

"We'll have it so, uh, our star, he knows through reputation of the Chinese dude who runs all the crime in Hong Kong. He's behind the kidnapping of the chick our boy was protecting. I have him in mind kinda thin, reedy, slicked back hair."

"We gonna get a local to play the part?"

"Fuck that. What're we gonna have him do, speak whatever language they talk over there?"

"Cantonese."

"Forget it. They're all gonna speak English. When our boy's talkin to the bad guy, I don't care if both of em were born and raised in Hong Kong, they're gonna speak in English."

"Well, there's a problem there, James. I just got word that Jackie's English isn't very good."

"How bad is it?"

"Let's just say he'll need to learn his lines phonetically."

"I don't understand what that means."

"It means we'll have to hire someone to teach him how to say all of his lines: pronunciation, delivery, everything."

"FUCK! Now you tell me this shit! I thought you told me he's made a coupla movies over here already?"

"The Cannonball Run pics and something that Enter the Dragon guy, Bob Clouse, directed. All of it shit."

"Oh, yeah. I loved Cannoball Run 2. He was in that?"

"He was the Japanese guy in the high-tech car."

"So he's Japanese?"

"No, he just played one."

"Same difference. Now let's talk boat chases."

"Okay."

"I want at least five of them."

"Genius!"

"I want this guy, this whatsisname, Johnnie?"

"It's Jackie, James. You know, like Gleason."

"I want this little fucker to live on a boat. Someone steals a woman's purse, I want the bastard on a boat, chasing his ass. Fuck, he's in the desert, I want a boat chase. Oh, shit."

"What's wrong? People love boat chases, right?"

"It's not that. I mean, this guy's from China, right? He's probably never even seen a boat before. You know how that place is. Lots of shantytowns and villages full of VC and shit, fish heads and rice for dinner. We'll probably have to stunt-double him for the boat chases."

"I'm figuring we're gonna have to stunt-double him throughout."

"No shit. I mean, all those people make are chop-sockies, right? Nickel and dime budget, lots of punching and kicking."

"No boat chases!"

"Exactly. No boat chases! Shit, there goes my idea for havin him dangling from a helicopter. The little bastard would probably run away as soon as the blades got going."

"But about these boat chases, James, ­you'll have to make sure people know where they're taking place. I mean, we spend the money to shoot in Hong Kong harbor, we'd better get plenty of shots of the place."

"[name deleted], you know me. I have a reputation in this industry as a master of establishing shots. You wanna make sure people know we're in Hong Kong? I'm gonna make parts of this movie into a fuckin travelogue! Shit, even for the New York boat chase I'm gonna have at least twenty shots of the Empire State Building, the Twin Towers, and the Statue of Liberty jammed in there."

"So how's it all going to end?"

"Well, Danny and our boy basically take on all of Hong Kong's underworld. I got some great shit in my head, can't wait to get it on film. Like the main bad guy, he's got this drug lab that only employs ladies. But the thing is, they're all naked!"

"Oh, have them wearing white tennis shoes, and that's it."

"Huh?"

"I've always had a thing for naked women in white tennis shoes. I don't know why."

"Hey, you're puttin up the money. Whatever you want. I'll even try to work in a totally-gratuitous close-up of some jugs while one of em's bagging up some dope."

"Make em saggy ones."

"Huh?"

"Saggy tits in the close-up. The saggier the better."

"Uh, okay. Yeah, sure."

"Do you have some fireworks in mind for the finale?"

"That's the best part. The final battle, right? The main Hong Kong villain's got Jackson stuck in some sort of construction rig."

"How'd he get there?"

"Who cares? Audiences'll only be paying attention to the action scenes, anyway. I'll just make up the story shit as I go along. So the villain's circling around in a helicopter, shooting at our boy, let's say with a Mac-10 or something."

"From a helicopter? Would a Mac-10 even be an accurate weapon from so far away?"

"Who cares? But anyway, Chang will somehow lure the helicopter closer, and get hold of the rig's controls. And then BLAM! He drops a couple tons of some shit right on the helicopter!"

"Just blowing the villain out of the sky."

"You got it! And I have it all in my head, right? I mean, we'll keep the camera on Johnnie there in the rig, and we'll see the helicopter explode outside, but here's the genius part: we'll hear the villain scream after the helicopter's exploded!"

"It defies all laws of reality! I love it! You have any ideas for the soundtrack?"

"Don't worry about that. They've got those demo keyboards you can play for free, over at Radio Shack. I'll just get one of the assistants to go over there on his lunch break and come up with some stuff."

"Okay, let's go with it. I'll call Jackie's people, get him over here. I just have one minor concern, James."

"What's that?"

"Well, let's say Chan isn't happy with the final product. What if he takes the finished movie and re-cuts it, makes it more like his usual-type flick, and releases his version in Hong Kong?"

"That's preposterous! Asians can't make movies!"

Friday, June 11, 2010

Shards of God, by Ed Sanders -- A Burroughsian look at the Yippies



Shards of God, by Ed Sanders

Grove Press, 1970

Ed Sanders' Shards Of God is not an easy novel to review by any means. Totally of its time, it's redolent with views and sentiments which were probably outdated the day it was published; no wonder it's long, long out of print. In some ways the novel is the funhouse mirror reflection of Anita Hoffman's psuedo-autobiography Trashing (published by Rolling Stone's imprint Straight Arrow in 1970 under the psuedonym "Ann Fettamen"). Like that novel, Shards Of God features actual Yippies in main roles, particularly Abbie Hoffman, Jerry Rubin, and Paul Krassner. But whereas Trashing mostly stuck to real-life escapades, Shards Of God is a modern myth, a fantastical fable of drugged-out depravity.

Sanders relates the shenanigans of himself and his fellow hippies in a "living myth" fashion, with Egyptian gods even taking part. Sanders, Hoffman, Krassner et al are larger-than-life characters, more demigods than actual mortals, and each act is blossomed into some mytho-poetic fantasy of absurd degree. One need look no further than "Shards Of God" to see where modern-day analogues like Mark Leyner got 98% of their schtick.

The novel proceeds in episodic fashion; each chapter works as a self-contained short story. Real-life characters like Hoffman and Rubin interract with characters like Quick Kill Merle, Aunt No No, and She-Who-Sucks-in-a-Skirt-of-Snakes. We are treated to phantasmorphic recreations of real-life incidents such as the "Pentagon Exorcism," as well as inside looks into how one was "initiated" into the Yippies (a charnel-house sequence which most likely had William Burroughs either red with envy or red with outrage over such gross missappropriation of his writing style).

Sanders writes with a flair and verve which quickens the reader's pulse. Coupled with his obvious familiarity with ancient myth, this makes for a one-of-a-kind reading experience. The only question is, who today would want to read this? Sanders opens the novel with a preface which states that the Yippie revolution will be successful, changing the entire world. I don't need to tell you that this never happened. Like Trashing, I have a feeling Shards Of God was already behind the times upon its publication in 1970. That Sanders is so beligerent throughout that he is a harbinger of a future reality only heightens its charm and obscurity; I checked the book out from the library, and, according to its checkout slip, the last time someone else had done so was March, 1982.

So, if you are looking for a fantastical view of the 1960s complete with walk-ons from Isis, Pharoah Akhnaton, the spirit of Che, a sexually-augmented Abbie Hoffman, and Penthouse Letters-type porn aplenty, then look no further than Ed Sanders' long out-of-print Shards Of God. It's so William Burroughs you'll think it's Naked Lunch, Part 2. And it's so of its time that Rolling Stone Magazine even gave it a glowing review in an early issue; these days, if Rolling Stone even bothered to mention it, it would of course be in an unflattering light.