YOUNG WARRIORS (MGM/UA HOME VIDEO - 1983)

From the back of the original MGM/UA Home Video release:  “What do you get when you cross ‘Animal House’ with ‘Death Wish’? ‘Young Warriors’ – a unique combination of fraternity hijinks, high-speed action, wildly imaginative animation, and hard-drivin’ rock!”

About twice a year, I get some weird call from a company claiming that I won an automatic drawing, and that I have been selected to receive a speed boat, or some crap. Up front, I am totally into the idea, but when they tell me that all I have to do is come down to their warehouse and claim the prize, I automatically suspect it's just the cops trying to bust me for some awful thing I forgot I did twelve years ago. Now, the back of this box has the side show bark down. I was way intrigued by the idea of seeing Paul Kersey and John Blutarsky’s two-headed bastard kid. The proposal of such an unlikely meeting sounds amazing at first, but when you mull it over for a minute you realize you might be getting scammed. Well, since I wasn’t risking potential arrest, I jerked the curtain back, rushed in, and I am now very happy to report back to you fine people that this disgusting mutant baby is very real and not just a bunch of bullshit some yokel made out of paper mache to bilk you out of your money. This one is worth every penny!

Like I said, I was apprehensive that the box had written a check that was likely going to bounce hard, and I was even more skeptical when I realized this was directed by Lawrence David Foldes – a dude whose films are real hit-or-miss for me. While “Don’t Go Near The Park” is a total rager, Foldes was also responsible for the brutally crappy Linda Blair actioner “Night Force.” I was never as impressed by his work that had real money behind it. However, I walked away from “Young Warriors” with a new-found appreciation for the director. Calling this his best effort doesn't really convey how good a movie this is, as it towers high above his others. Granted, there are a few technical faux pas, but the action is rock solid, and it features some ideas that challenge the average rape/revenge mold.

"Young Warriors" tries to be many things, but it never worries about tastefully breaking down the wall of separation between all its elements. Other filmmakers might concern themselves with blending the college humor with the vigilante elements, so that everything feels congruous. Foldes doesn't give a shit about that, and that's why this movie is so great. There’s a satisfying mental whiplash when the film decides to shift gears, as one moment we’re treated to a hazing ritual where some guy is forced to shave his butt cheeks in order to garnish cocktails, and the next we’re getting run off the road in Rapesville U.S.A!  Instead of worrying about everything clashing, Foldes focuses on the quality and the effectiveness of the individual components. The comedy and the characters are good enough to have been from a great 80s sex comedy, while the action side is mean and gritty.

The story opens on a few light-hearted scenes which establish the bond between several characters as they make the jump from high school to college. Kevin Carrigan (played by lesser Van Patten, James) is our central character, inexplicably studying animation while running new pledges through a ringer. Following the vicious assault of his sister, Kevin has a hard time settling back into his usual antics. In fact, he becomes a violent dissident toward the college establishment and even his detective father for failing to bring his sister’s attackers to justice. Craving vengeance, Kevin and his frat brothers decide to form a vigilante squad, which prowls the city by night and (in theory) corrects injustices. However, they mostly just indirectly hurt innocent people in the process, or get their asses kicked. One of the most hilarious aspects of this “urban death squad” is that the frat house’s mascot – a poodle – rides shotgun for most of their patrols. These guys like the idea of justice, and they mean well, but for the most part these sheltered individuals don’t possess any real familiarity with real life violence. Instead, they're only upholding the idea of revenge as seen on TV and films, which does not mesh well with their reality. While our protagonists may have a noble cause, this is a film where the good guys really aren’t so good. In fact, they are contemptibly inept. This profound examination of vigilante violence was and still is very fresh, and is commonly overlooked by most of the film’s critics who discard it as shallow action fluff. There are some really wonderful ideas within the film, for which Foldes deserves more recognition.

Eventually, Kevin and his crew catch up with the guys responsible for the gang rape of his sister, and everything concludes in an unconventional and unhappy way. Foldes’ entire film not only questions Hollywood violence and the perceptions of law and humanity we derive from them, but his ending completely defies the usual clichés you might expect from films of this nature.

Hardly enough of a fault to bring the film down is Kevin’s scantly-featured cop father, played by Ernest Borgnine, and partnered with Richard Roundtree. What little on-screen time they have leaves us wanting more, but that’s not a terrible thing. Other noteworthy appearances include Mike Norris, son of Chuck, as one of the frat boys-at-arms, the phenomenal Dick Shawn as an animation professor, and Linnea Quigley.

STREETS (MGM/UA - 1990)

Here’s something I’m pretty sure no one has said before: this movie is so fucking bad I can’t believe it was made by Concorde. “Streets” is an obvious late wave imitator of Robert Vincent O’Neill’s “Vice Squad” and “Angel,” only with all the elements that made those films so fantastic completely MISSING! The mean streak has been muted. There is no imaginative approach to depravity. The sense of humor is nowhere to be found. And perhaps most importantly, the odd heart which really drives so many of O’Neill’s plots and gives them urgency is not here.

One quickly gathers a sense that writer/director Katt Shea perhaps ambitions of expanding what was intended to be a simple exploitation piece into something that had a real soul and played on social conscience. Unfortunately, just because your film stars human beings doesn’t make it human, and the end result feels like some nagging LifeTime movie. I understand and admire what she was trying to accomplish, but this thing just fails on so many levels. It’s sort of a betrayal of what one might expect from Concorde at this point, because it tries to be ABOVE the sort of film that it’s intended to be. There are moments of frank dialog which are intended to be shocking, especially because they are uttered by the characters in a casual fashion. This might alarm a Mormon house wife, who will sit back and aghast and wonder, “My god, how can she the word ‘handjob’ as if it were a garden variety flower.” To the connoisseurs of 42 street schlock, this is yawn-inducing stuff. Situations intended to be dire or dark just feel too tame in contrast to what its predecessors delivered so many years before.

The other sad component of this dull equation is that you just don’t give a shit about the characters in these situations. They just weren’t developed into people with real stories, and they lack an element that is intrinsic to surviving the worst situations: humor. Sure, these wayward adolescents are shooting drugs and turning tricks, but at some point they chose this lifestyle, more than likely because their home environment was far worse what they’re now facing. None of the characters have a background story, and between them there aren’t any moments of tenderness or happiness. In Penelope Spheeris’ “Suburbia,” the protagonists engage in activity that could be construed as villainous from an outsider’s point of view. In fact, Spheeris could have made a “Suburbia 2” from the perspective of the neighborhood council, and the T.R. characters could have easily been the antagonists. In “Suburbia,” Spheeris provides us with insights into their terrible home lives which makes their assholeishness excusable if not endearing. While the T.R. kids are essentially homeless and plagued by drugs and violence, most of the scenes that depict them functioning as a family are incredibly warm and funny. The characters in “Streets” are written as quirky in attempt to make them seem fun, but it just doesn’t work. The movie radiates a weirdness that makes it compelling, but unfortunately it’s not enough to validate it as a whole.

The movie gets off on the wrong foot by starting with a splat! Teenage prostitute Dawn, played by Christina Applegate, picks up a john, and her life is immediately on the line when the guy tries to kill her. Starting things with a bang is one thing, but this is out of nowhere. Dawn manages to escape with the aid of Sy, a douchebag rich kid (played by David Mendenhall, the pussy kid from “Over The Top”) with a keyboard who happens to be slumming it for the weekend. After a totally bullshit narrow escape, Dawn introduces Sy to the streets and her cast of loser friends. Meanwhile, the john that tried to kill her turns out to be a cop, and he’s hell-bent on revenge. One of the most frustrating things about this film is that they never really establish whether or not this guy is a serial killer, and the only faint hint of motivation for his deeds is a potential impotence problem. Generally, if there’s a killer on the loose, we’re treated to a few news reports, some news clippings, or just something that establishes that a serial killer is contributing to a climate of fear within the community. We get bupkiss here. Still, as unbelievable as this part of the story gets, it’s about the only thing “Streets” has going for it. Never mind the baffling reviews from people who say that this was a well-made, poignant film about the lives of street kids otherwise marred by the shoe horning of a b-movie killer. First off, the acting is hokey as fuck. The characters are poorly developed and their relationships are forced. The writing itself is bland. The score sounds like some Lilith Fair bullshit. The photography and coloring are a poor substitute for true atmosphere. And while the topics are real they are not presented in a realistic fashion. Seriously, it's not good on any level.

After shrugging through the majority of the film, it was the film’s final moments that had me shaking my fist and screaming at the screen. Having thwarted the murderous cop, Dawn and Sy wind up at a bus station, where Sy’s parents wire him bus tickets. Noble Sy wants to rescue his newfound illiterate prostitute junkie girlfriend and give her a new life. However, in much the same fashion that Tarzan shuns society and returns to the jungles to be with the apes at the conclusion of "Greystoke", Dawn decides that the streets are her home and she prefers the comfort of blowing strange dudes for heroin money. What a fucking retard. Anyway, the star crossed lovers say their tearful goodbye and part ways to end the film. But much like Rick and Ilsa have Paris, Sy and Dawn will always have AIDS.

Now, I’m not gonna lie. The only reason I sat through this was because I wanted to see Kelly Bundy’s tits, and it so wasn’t worth the trip. Basically all you get is side boob, and what little you DO get is marred by bad lighting and some romantic piano bullshit. I’d rather that there be no nudity than half-assed nudity. Seriously, this is one of the worst movies about teenage prostitution ever. Skip it.

NEW STUFF: MOTEL HELL

Well, I actually DID have this one already, but when I found a big box copy of the MGM/UA release I couldn't pass it up. Prior to that, I'd only had a cut-art version, and then another big box that was sun bleached beyond recognition. But this one is in nice shape. Anyway, this is easily one of the best of the eighties, and perhaps a little ahead of its time. Some call it a horror comedy and others even say it's a parody. There's no denying the sardonic humor, and it's definitely self aware, but it's also highly effective as a horror film at times. How much longer until you think this one gets remade?

Trailer courtesy of sideshowcarny.