directed by Andy Sidaris (1987)

We just went to see Piranha 3D and can say it’s a fun barrel of trash that at least goes literally balls out with its sleaze and B-movie tropes. It lead to a discussion about how hard it is to make good bad things. Which, aside from a full monologue about my favorite Seagal films, eventually, inevitably lead to a lesson in Andy Sidaris. His soft core oeuvre is incredible, and Hard Ticket to Hawaii is his finest – truly the Citizen Kane of soft core action films. All the signature Sidaris touches are here – Playboy actresses, long shots of airplanes taking off and landing, the excessive use of toy helicopters and cars to deliver either explosions or drugs, elaborate death scenes, and a bad guy named Seth.

Donna Speir, who grits her teeth for dramatic line readings and babysitter gone slightly naughty Hope Marie Carlton are special agents and copter pilots who stumble upon a drug ring mastered by Seth. Total babes Ronn Moss and Harold Diamond are their Agency mates and, in Donna’s case, tit rubbing lover (no worries about being too embarrassed a la Travis Bickle to watch this – the most you’ll get is semi nude heavy petting – though the stills after the jump/below might not be safe for work).

From the opening song “Hard ticket to Hawaaaaaii, it’s not paradise all the time” you know you’re in for a treat, a treat that includes a dangerous cancer infested snake (which in theory would just make it sick and likely to die but here makes it a man eating killer machine that can bust through toilets with a radio active glow), a weapon made from a frisbee and razor blades, and one of the greatest “action” scenes of all time that includes a blow up doll, hot dogging skateboarding, and explosions (you’ll find a moment by moment break down of this scene below).

Sidaris, who my family contacted as fans and was a lovely man with a co-creator wife that sent us all signed photographs, sadly passed away a few years ago, but his legacy is vast. My guess is he’s unknown to you, so you have plenty in his archives to discover – after this immaculate classic, try Picasso Trigger and Return to Savage Beach.

Click here to see the rest of Hard Ticket to Hawaii

directed by Lloyd Bacon (1933)

The Golddiggers of 1933 is our gold standard for golden era musicals, and while Footlight Parade doesn’t quit reach the magnificence of that film, it’s an engaging fun romp. Bolstered by an uber charming cast, all of which you notice made other categories this week including a fast talking, lithe dancing James Cagney, the wide eyed sass with a good head on her shoulders, Joan Blondell, the ultimate “juvenile” and nice guy Dick Powell, and the petite sweetheart Ruby Keeler.

Of course, the real centerpiece of are the over the top Busby Berkeley musical numbers that among other wonders include: men and women dressed as giant cats, a waterfall full of lady godivas, a hotel where women get busy on their wedding nights, an opium den populated by women in incredible costumes, and that man/child thing dressed as a mouse.

The film moves along at a breakneck pace, it’s at least twenty minutes before there’s even a pause between action and dialogue. The plot, that rushes by you, involves the arrival of “talkies” which pushes musical producer Cagney into the new business of creating live performance “prologues” for the new fangled movie theaters. It’s all a build up to the back to back musical numbers though.

Click here to see the rest of Footlight Parade

directed by Milos Forman (1984)

While working at home, it’s hard to decide on a background movie. If it’s foreign or too interesting, it’s a distraction, but if it’s too dull, I’d rather have nothing on. So, I’ve been delving into my very, very favorites and Amadeus has been one since I was a kid. Possibly the film I’ve watched more than any other, I can pretty much watch it with my eyes closed.

Milos Forman’s exquisite take on the legendary composer is based on the Peter Shaffer’s 1979 play. While the historical facts are played with, it’s a sensationally entertaining movie, with a perfect soundtrack and an amazing cast that for the most part was strangely rarely seen from again.

It’s the winner of numerous awards, including an Oscar for Best Picture, is available on instant netflix – there’s no excuse not to see it if you haven’t yet, or, like me, you can watch again for the thousandth time.

Click here to see the rest of Amadeus

Originally aired on HBO (1993)

Tongue in cheek humor, true crime, American absurdity and a spectacular cast – of course The Positively True Adventures of the Alleged Texas Cheerleader-Murdering Mom made for TV movie is one of my all time favorites. Everyone seems to have forgotten how totally awesome Holly Hunter can me (seriously, why is she not cast in any of these hip quirky comedies of late – she’s the queen!!) and here she’s outstanding as the certifiably nuts true life criminal, Wanda Holloway, who attempted to pay her brother in law to kill her daughters cheerleading rival and rival’s mother. Beau Bridges and Swoosie Kurtz also stand out as the down on his luck brother in law and his insane wife.

It originally aired on HBO in the early nineties but is available on DVD and worth putting to the top of your netflix queue.

Click here to see the rest of The Positively True Adventures of the Alleged Texas Cheerleader-Murdering Mom

directed by Frank Perry (1968)

The Swimmer was filmed in 1966 and released two years later. In between then, The Graduate with its young, new, daring take on similar subject matter and inventive film techniques, made an indelible mark American film making.

Meanwhile this Burt Lancaster vehicle fell into, well, if not oblivion exactly, certainly near to that. Compared to where movie making was headed, The Swimmer, based on a short story by John Cheever (he of the big red book of short stories, which is first on my list to start reading on vacation) is a tad dated and seems, from it’s reviews of the time, to have already felt off kilter (in both a good and bad way) when it was released.

The acting can range from balls out fist shaking to unnatural, stilted theater like script reading. A melodramatic, score that underlines every emotional cue adds to the artificial feeling. Added in are some unusual editing gorgeous lens flare and arty film techniques, including double exposures -  but somehow the collected oddities work in harmony in the film’s favor. A very dark, hallucinatory, and paranoid piece of work emerges from the flaws.

This is a surreal and haunting movie and, for all its artifice and ham-handedness, there’s strong stuff here that sticks with you; I first saw the movie years ago and have never really forgotten it and I welcomed a chance to revisit it when it became available on Netflix on demand (one of life’s great pleasures).

Lancaster struts around as a suburban peacock who decides to swim home via neighborhood pools. Along the way we encounter the hung over, the angry, the bitchy, and the eccentric members of his community as well as witness some nudists, a fight over a hot dog cart, and a cameo by Joan Rivers.

It’s a fun movie to discover if you’ve not seen it, maybe especially for it’s lost gem quality and of course, the sixties suburban pool side styles of the time that will satiate any Mad Men fan.

Click here to see the rest of The Swimmer

directed by David Cronenberg (1983)

Videodrome is a singularly bizarre film about mess media, body mutation, hallucination, and sadomasochism. Surely not a treat for every movie goer but one of my all time favorites – which is why I was surprised to find I had not recommended it (well, at least not in the pages of Brix Picks) before.

An appropriately sleazy James Woods and a stunning brunette Debbie Harry star in Cronenberg’s finest hour. The movies jumps head first into it’s down the rabbit hole story and rapidly becomes stranger with each scene.

Woods is a programmer for a television channel that focuses on violent and explicit programming and willfully falls into a world of either highly bizarre mind control conspiracy or utter life crippling hallucination after viewing a snuff like pirated program called Videodrome. Along the way he makes out with a television set, buries a gun into his own chest, and meets a cult like leader named Brian Oblivion who only appears on TV on TV.

It’s beyond surreal but grounded in such an imperfect, realistic world of trash strewn hotel rooms, peeling basement studios, and crappy soft core porn, that the fantasy is accepted and it’s ok that the movie tells it’s wild story with a straight face.

If the stills below/after the jump and my highest recommendation don’t peak your interest this appropriately stylish but way off kilter trailer just might.

Click here to see the rest of Videodrome

directed by Michael Powell and Emeric Pressburger (1948)

The Red Shoes is a considered a classic for its beauty; not only in themes: the sacrifices one must make for both romantic love and love and passion about ones craft. It’s also gorgeous to look at. Technicolor has rarely been used to such dreamlike and stunning effect. The costumes, the choreography, Moira Shearer’s red hair, a lovely score.. it’s little wonder that The Red Shoes inspired so many of it’s viewers to become dancers, designers (I distinctly see some Rodarte in her dirtied white gown), musicians, and film makers.

The centerpiece of the film is a surreal visual delight ballet, but the film, due to its cast, is more than its magnificent imagery. Shearer is incredible as the prima ballerina torn between the love of a composer and becoming the world’s greatest dancer. As it is a fairy tale the characters have no need to be realistic or complex, yet she and her puppet like impresario played by Anton Walkbrook are lively and fascinating.

Criterion Collection has recently restored the film and its available to watch with netflix instant.

Click here to see the rest of The Red Shoes

directed by Tim Burton (1988)

I have seen the Tim Burton comedy Beetlejuice so very many times as a kid that I was a little reluctant to re-watch it at Jim’s request, but the surreal, lighthearted darkness was exactly what I didn’t even know I was in the mood for. Among many achievements, including memorable and clever makeup, effects, costumes (love Lydia’s black head wear and the glove headband) and set design, this boasts a great cast including Noni’s best role yet as a goth teen. Jefferey Jone and Catharine O’Hara, who are really always excellent don’t break the streak here and Geena Davis is likable and goofy while Alec Baldwin is almost unrecognizably earnest and fresh faced as a loving couple that finds themselves recently deceased (and remind me of soon to be married friends Luke and Ashleigh). Michael Keaton, in an unexpected role, is the gross out Beetlejuice, who so easily could have become an unbearable character and yet is a classic. It’s a strange feat, but not quite as strange as the animated series that spun off in 89 that was an inexplicable hit.

It’s one of Burton’s very best (behind only Peewee’s Big Adventure and Ed Wood in my assessment) and it makes me wonder, after painfully sitting through the wildly disappointing Alice in Wonderland (or as another disappointed friend eloquently called it Alice in Buttholeland), what exactly happened to him? Is it the large budgets getting in the way? An ego from a lifetime of success and fame? Is the problem that he isn’t writing his own material? Does Johnny Depp or Helena Bonham Carter have some malicious power over his skills? I wish someone could get to the bottom of it, because I’d love to see him making a movie that brings together his unique vision, an endearing plot and just plain likability together as successfully as Beetlejuice again.

Click here to see the rest of Beetlejuice

Directed by Irvin Kershner (1978)

While I didn’t notice the first time I saw Eyes of Laura Mars years ago, but it’s an American version of a Giallo if there ever was one. And as such it’s got the genre’s shining points and flaws: technicolor red blood, dramatic music cues, silly plot twists that end in a preposterous conclusion, a high body count, and style, style, style! There’s plenty to recommend this 70’s hit despite moments of mediocrity (like a terrible Babs song).

First, the cast. Faye Dunaway is in her prime of easy glamorous wide eyed star power, Tommy Lee Jones brooding is more charming than usual, in an all too brief appearance Raul Julia is the ultimate deadbeat gold digging ex, supermodel Lisa Taylor plays herself, and perhaps most importantly the film opened by eyes to the awesomeness of perhaps my favorite actor, Brad Dourif, who is here the foxiest creep ever put to film. Bomber jacket, jeans, flannel and a chauffeurs hat have never come together so perfectly.

That brings us to the second point: every scene has something fantastic to look at. The styling had me asking myself minutely “hmm, do I need a _____ (hat, blouse, skirt, hairdo, apartment, etc) like that in my life?” The answer was invariably “yes”.

Third, the centerpiece of the movie visually is the provocative work of photographer Helmut Newton. One of my favorite artists who sets the aesthetic tone.

You can watch it now with Netflix on demand.

Click here to see the rest of The Eyes of Laura Mars