Schadenfreude Movie Conclave:Blast Off Girls

BLAST OFF GIRLS

1967
Written and directed by
Herschell Gordon Lewis


We at the Schadenfreude Conclave enjoy our jobs too much. Way too much. In fact, studies show that we enjoy our jobs 37% more than we are supposed to. Fortunately we are aware that to experience too much pleasure can be hurtful, painful and symptomatic of further psychological damage. This is one of the reasons we are Schadenfreude. Here pain and pleasure exchange their masks with each other; reversing roles and upsetting the apple cart of expectations and exploding the myth of Normalcy.
Have you ever exploded a myth? Don’t. It’s gross. It’s nasty. It gets everywhere. And no one is going to clean up that myth for you. Even the Enviromental Protection Agency won’t touch it. If you blow one of those suckers up, you are on your own! Once, we took this one big stupid myth and stuck a M-60 meme up it’s. . . . .
I digress. Our purpose here at the Schadenfreude Conclave is to deliver to you, the unfortunate consumers of Culture, a guide to the movies you hate to love and love to hate. We do this, believe it or not, to help make you happy; to give you a smile or at the very least, the pleasure of seeing something new and completely unexpected, as only a really bad movie can.

BUT. Often in our searches we come across certain movies that are bad, just bad, very bad. But they must be watched. They must be categorized! They must be measured, despite the suffering they cause us, despite the pain, despite the bleeding eyes, screams of terror and unholy visions that haunt our dreams and make us question whether mankind has a right to continue to exist. We watch, for we are the Schadenfreude. We suffer for your pleasure. And we glow like fourteen pregnant fundamentalist Christian mothers with the pleasure of your suffering.

This movie, ‘BLAST OFF GIRLS’ is of the Suffering kind. It will hurt. Mostly because the band really sucks.

However, viewing of this movie will earn the watcher a Schadenfreude Order of The Scarred Collective Unconscious. To achieve this honor, you must watch the entire movie from first image to the last credit. No fast-forwarding, no bathroom visits. Short trips to the fridge are allowed, but any absence longer than 27 seconds will invalidate the Badge.


‘BLAST OFF GIRLS’ is an effort by Herschell Gordon Lewis, who has made the Schaden-favorite ‘Jimmy the Boy Wonder”. And now he enters the list of infamy. This only raises his quality in our minds. Besides, the band sucks.

This movie attempts to be a morality tale about the music industry, a long drawn out morality tale about the Music industry. A long pointless cliché filled morality tale of the music industry. There are salacious offers, including the apparent set up of a gang bang. But not even a single boob ever appears. In fact we don’t see the apparently featured “Blast Off Girls” very much. We mostly are forced to watch the band ‘The Big Blast’( played by the band ‘The Faded Blue’) play poor songs poorly. The lead is ably rendered by Roy Sager, who became a H.G. Lewis regular as well as a respected career behind the camera in many roles. Here, he is given a cane and left to deal with a script that cannot be saved by a thousand Shatners or one Daniel Day Lewis. We both weep and laugh with him. But in the end, the band sucks.

Between the band sucking, there are a few groovy clothes, some odd lines, and of course, Colonel Sanders! Yes Colonel Sanders makes a cameo trading some chicken for a song. His appearance and his dancing is quite thrilling; a prescient prediction of the Colonel’s future as an animated character, shaking it’s inky ass to rap music just to sell more giblets. But soon, the band plays again. And the band sucks. Have we mentioned that?

You will not enjoy this movie. But it may give you pleasure. It is, to the very core, Schadenfreude!!!!

Horrible Highlights:
The Colonel dancing.
There is a lovely lamp, and cool 60’s doors
Pot being the Ultimate degradation, as opposed to the path to it.

Classic bad movie elements:
Bad sound quality.
Atrocious acting. Mostly
Undelivered promise of nudity and sex.
Cliché, cliché, cliche

THE DRINKING GAME FOR “BLAST OFF GIRLS”

DRINK WHEN:
When anyone lights a cigar
There’s a room full of kids dancing
The bands make fun of someone musically

CHUG A WHOLE BEER WHEN:
The colonel dances!
Boojie sets up a gang bang
You hear the name, Sadie Thompson.


IF ONE HAS TO WRITE A COLLEGE ESSAY FOR FILM CLASS

H. G. Lewis continues his exploration into America’s culture through the food it eats. Much like Upton Sinclair’s The Jungle, Blast Off Girls uses the poultry industry as a metaphor for the Laissez Fair morality of the 1960’s and beyond. Oh yes, the Colonel would dance to the sweet tune of a youth culture based on consumerism and materialism. He dances all the way to the bank! Blast Off Girls is a fitting appendix to the social revolt and socially revolting documents of the European Fiction masters of the early Soviet period.

SCHADEN FREUDEN SCORE
Elements: 3 (out of 10 )
Titillation: 0 (out of 5)
Wrongness: 1 (out of 5)
Style & Funness: 1 (out of 5)
Extra points: - 1 (out of 5)
TOTAL: 6 (out of 30 )

Mother Knows Best

Ephemera of the doomed

Can you dig it?

Schadenfreude Review: Cool It, Baby

COOL IT BABY
1967
Directed by Lou Campa, sort of.
Written by Joespeh Marzano, sort of
The Blame belongs to Harry Novak



COOL IT BABY is what we at The Schadenfreude Conclave designate a Couples’ Only Film. That’s not just a recommendation, it’s a rule. Surprised? Eyebrows arched in disbelief? Are you upset that we are throwing Fascist Rules at you when all you wanted to do was read a little review? Get over it. This flick is not dirty. It is not raunchy. It is not scandalous. It’s messed up. Really messed up. Wanna know the plot? Screw the plot!


Here at the facts, 6 sets of boobs, two of which are quick flashed shots. The other boobs are of a general high quality. No girl ass, no vagina, no boy ass, no penis. There is a lot of groping scenes. Actually it is just one long session of grope with no advancement of nudity or passion. You know, how nobody does, ever, especially when they are already down to their underwear? There’s some nude modeling, some lesbian teasing, a little oral sex hinting and then THEY BEAT A WOMAN TO DEATH WITH A PAIR OF PLIERS!


It comes out of nowhere. You’re sitting there. Getting good and titillated by the lovely sixties lingerie and then wham! There’s a basement and a girl getting beaten with a table full of objects that look like they were just grabbed from any workman’s bench, that is EXCEPT FOR THE WELDING TORCH. AHH! Pure Schadenfreude glory! Now relax, there’s only a little blood on the extremities, but that’s as gory as it gets. . . . except for the death, of course.


And from there it all goes uphill. There’s a teen being drugged and used in a variety of ways, there’s a Satanic ritual, there’s a orgy, there’s clip on ties. Then, it gets real ugly.


Yes, in answer to your first question after seeing this movie, it did take only five days to shoot it. And yes, it only cost seven thousand dollars. Even in 1967, that’s cheap. But a whole lotta bad can be done in five days, especially with an experienced crew like this one.


Most of the nasty stuff is narrated by a ‘witness’ with no attempt at dialogue. The narration is choppy, with lots of Mamet-ing pauses in it. The Schadenfruede Veracity Detector had trouble telling if the script was Improvised or not, but there is a 75% likely-ness of some serious ‘faking it’. All the rest of the movie consists of court scenes held in some schmucks’ office. They are more boring than your Uncle Billy telling stories of pouring molasses down at the Molasses factory during a blizzard. All the writing is pretty bad. There isn’t a single line which isn’t clumsy, over-worded, cliché or completely extraneous to anything that’s happening. Which of course, calls for congratulations. Now, that takes real Schadenfruede talent!!



Some fun stuff particular to this flick are:
The outlandish writing.
The completely inappropriate movie scoring
The TORTURE



Classsic bad movie elements contained in this Flick
Bad or non-existent acting
All sexual behavior is rationalized by drugs
Lots of sitting around in generic offices


THE DRINKING GAME FOR “Girl in Trouble”


TAKE A DRINK WHEN:
Lesbian flirting
Every time a breast appears ( look closely!)
Every time Monica hits a girl
You see the worst black hat in the world ( it happens early, you’ll know)

CHUG A WHOLE BEER WHEN:
You see the PLIERS!
A young blonde eat some candy
Boxer shorts!!!!


IF ONE HAS TO WRITE A COLLEGE ESSAY FOR FILM CLASS


Cool it Baby splits the world into two realms, that of the Judged and that of those who sit in Judgment. Marzano crafts a lurid and frigid tale, placing the stifling coldness of the legal questioning scenes with the actual scenes of sexual degradation into juxtaposition. They blend into a euphony of discordant angst that atrophies all the characters’ philosophies into gamy rationalizations. We are left to ask, why does the soap leave not marks? Because none of us are truly clean.



SCHADEN FREUDEN SCORE
Elements: 8 (out of 10 )
Titillation: 3 (out of 5)
Wrongness: 4 (out of 5)
Style & Funness: 3 (out of five)
Extra points: 2 (out of five)
TOTAL: 20 (out of 30 )

SUPPORT THE HAPPINESS! SUPPORT THE SUFFERING!

An open letter from a Libertine to Facebook Friends

Having to tell our Facebook Friends we were breaking up was the hardest thing I ever had to do.

We had just talked it all out, exhausted and tear stained, our faces warmed from the freshly cut heart in between us, and as she sat with her computer between her knees, I asked her,
“So, do you want to . . .change your Facebook Status first . . ?”

There aren’t enough words that describe emotional states to describe how many looks passed across my face. I had no clue about the propriety of the event. As she was younger than I, I had discovered that many rules of propriety have changed, and not to the looser. She had taught me by example that Emails were NOT casual conversation, and that the Social rooms needed to be taken seriously, if one was to be taken seriously.

After ten seconds of twisting in the wind, bending my face like a Mandarin to clue her in on my willingness to discover what the right thing to do was, she said sure. And in a brief polite Socratic scene I learned that Facebook Status change was a big deal and that she appreciated the gesture of being allowed to change it first.


That odd moment led me to my own laptop. When I entered Facebook, I noticed that my Relationship status had automatically changed when she had changed hers.


Only one of us needed to change it, to make us both separate.


Then, as I looked at the Facebook page, I realized that even though I had less friends that most, I had, that is had, to say something about the change. It would be rude not to. I don’t talk to my family anymore. None of them. And yet I was socially compelled to politely acknowledge this change in my life to a sea of avatars.


And despite the truly historical significance of the realization, despite the wonder of the connection I felt to the universe, despite the sea-change it represented in my own head; the loss of love trumped it all into mere trivia.


And now will come the days, the weeks, the months of wanting something you have destroyed. And hating yourself for still being the fool who wishes. . .
I had been a greater fool before, so I have perspective on this issue.

And calling myself a fool is being kind.


I betrayed all that shouldn’t be betrayed.


Betrayal is a virus, a sleeping plague that curls up in every cell, first breeding rationalizations and then doubt. Untreated, you die a filthy bag of empty faith and broken promises, fouling up the universe with the trail of disappointment that extends behind you like a Bridal Train of Suffering.


I don’t know the prognosis with treatment.


For I am self medicating, self diagnosing and now I prescribing that I expose most my private mind to you, the Avatars of my planet, whose biological ‘self’ that generates your beautiful thoughts, I will never meet. Relax, it won’t get National Enquirer.


In weeks, perhaps Sophie will fade into the background of my mental desktop, and Facebook folk will step up, as you have in the past with brave camaraderie and good hopes.


For now, I still metronome between running from and running to, grasping at distractions.


And for some reason, I need you to know this.

Thank you for being there, I can only respond by being honest. Which scares me a little.


I know you will have pain, worse than mine, and I hope I can be there for you in my own personal drop of Avatar.

Scahdenfreuden Review A Taste of Honey. . .

A Taste of Honey, a Swallow of Brine

Producer: David F. Friedman
Director: Byron Mabe, ( aka B. Ron Elliot )


Do you remember Plato’s Allegory about the cave? He was describing his version of how reality worked. Basically, all things in the world are the indirect expression (like a shadow) of the most perfect possible form of that thing. The cell phone you are holding is a temporary and flawed version of the most perfect cell phone ever, which exists only in the Most Perfect Ever Realm, which does not exist in physical form.


When it comes to the tease, our girl Sharon, the lead character in A Smell of Honey. A Swallow of Brine is the Most Perfect Ever Tease, from which all other teases exist but as temporary and shadowy substitutes. Plato would be pleased.


The Schadenfreuden Scale would like to applaud the makers of this movie as a textbook example of what we like to call, JUST PLAIN WRONG! Though set up as a morality tale about how leading a man on is socially undesirable and can lead to bad things, the extreme character of Sharon, plunges this tale into a sensational lurid myth that does nothing but exploit a pervasive problem in society; male on female violence. And if someone is being exploited, we approve heartily! These are exploitation movies, for Christ’s sake! Whattya want for nothing? A rubber biscuit?


This is not a Schadenfreuden movie for everyone. Though only four boobs are presented, they are presented often. And the lustier quality of certain scenes are indeed the early seeds of legal pornographic movies. We recommend this as a couple’s flick. Try making out when Sharon and her teasee’s do! These scenes eat a lot of film, and you can tease each other in the privacy of your own movie house! Frustration is fun!


But there is much to offer outside the nudies, of which Miss Stacy Walker is a knockout as Sharon in the best of 60’s fashion, style and pizzazz. Though one mention must go to the most unattractive shot of a breast we have ever seen. More shocking in that all the other shots of Miss Walker do her, and God, much credit. You’ll know it when you see it. To finish out the subject, there is a healthy amount of lingerie, no vaginas, no penis’, lots of boobs and lady butt and one brief man butt. The retro clothing styles were limited and the Schadenfreuden ladies wished for more shoes.


There a total of five teasee’s in our tale, and Sharon tears ‘em apart with the passion and stress of a bra on a Russ Meyer movie set. The acting is well, bad. Pretty bad. And that goes for every actor on the set. But I have a strong belief that the actors would not mind so much hearing that. For indeed, acting is not the point of this film! Miss Walker does her job just fine, and the men don’t really need to act much with her dancing naked at them. Besides, there is montage aplenty! We have a ‘rape trial montage’ with the credits! We have ‘new guy in life Montage’! We have three, COUNT THEM, THREE!, separate ‘frustrated sex fever dream montages’ connected directly with a ‘frustrated sex daydream montage’ at the workplace! Amazingly bad and totally exploitive! All Schadenfreuden glory to senor Freidman!


Some fun bits to watch for are the fabulous observations Sharon makes about her being raped (she wasn’t), the Ringo poster on the wall at Tony’s concert, what Sharon can do with a Coke bottle during that same concert, and through-out the sweaty teased and the haughty Sharon will either piss you off or delight you with her evil ways!


There is a little torture in the dream sequence, and the ending is not for the squeamish. And it is not what it presents, it is how the scene is shot, and what parts of the violent act are shown. You be the judge. And we hope you are saddened by the judgment. For we are The Schadenfreuden Conclave, and your sadness delights us.


Some fun stuff particular to this flick are:
Miss Walker’s use of the word ‘bitch’
Tony’s ironic song, listen close to the words. Yikes!
What happens to the forth teasee, beware!

Classsic bad movie elements contained in this Flick
Bad acting. Oh, so bad.
Excessive montages
Undressing scenes taking an inordinately long time.
A BDSM movie disguised as a morality tale. (Yes, they are common)


THE DRINKING GAME FOR “A Taste of Honey, a swallow of Brine”

DRINK WHEN:
The word ‘bitch’ or ‘butch’ is uttered.
When Sharon’s hair sticks up like an alien from Babylon 5
Granny Panties!
When Sharon is behind her typewriter

CHUG A WHOLE BEER WHEN:
Sharon says finally No! to each of her suitors.
Tony sings!
Boobs in a mirror!

IF ONE HAS TO WRITE A COLLEGE ESSAY FOR FILM CLASS

The real adventure in gender-role politics is to juxtapose Jodi Foster’s The Accused to A Taste of Honey, A Swallow of Brine. The collage of emotions that the two lead characters present, encapture a separate ethos of sexuality, or indeed separate pathology as brought on by the confusion of the Stripper/Nun Syndrome of Modern Suburban morality. Sexual Repression, inter-social violence, class consciousness and the nature of the supposed sex drive are all indicted in the utterance of Sharon in Taste of Honey: “I’ve been raped once this season, I’ll try not to let it happen again.”


SCHADEN FREUDEN SCORE
Elements: 6 (out of 10 )
Titillation: 4 ( out of 5)
Wrongness: 4 (out of 5)
Style & Funness: 2 (out of five)
Extra points: 3 (out of five)
TOTAL: 19 ( out of 30 )

HELP SUPPORT THE SUFFERING WITH ONE LITTLE CLICK!

Every little bit helps us hurt you!

Fiend of Dope Island
1961

The judges at the Schadenfruede Conclave had a difficult time judging whether “Fiend of Dope Island” was truly worthy to be a Schadenfreude film. And therein A Schadenfreuden Conclave Axiom # 772 is activated. #772 says that if any movie makes us worry, it is automatically Schadenfreuden for making us suffer. But don’t worry, we never bend the rules just for the rules sake, this movie also sucks rocks! Well, it actually sucks sand, and that sand’s gonna get everywhere!


Fiend of Dope Island is about this fiendish guy who lives on an Island that grows dope; now that’s the marijuana kind of dope, not Heroine dope or the dwarf known as Dopey( all three occur in Exploitation movies in the period). The guy who grows the weed is very fiendish. Oboy is he fiendish! His main weapon of Fiendiosity is a huge Bull whip, which he uses often and loudly. He terrorizes the island of stereotypes, who all cower before his white godliness. Then apparently a mail order beautiful floozie arrives. She seduces the island of stereotypes into worshipping her because she’s so white. . I mean pretty. It’s a bit gross how the film has the natives suck up to the floozie. We can’t condemn this film for simply carrying the beliefs of it’s time in it’s pocket, but good lord, someone should get yelled at!


Or maybe not. When considered in context, Fiend is not as bad, as in poorly made, as most of the movies on our list. The picture was made as a vehicle for Tania Velia, the Yugoslav Bombshell (the credits tells us), and she does her job pretty well, providing some quick shadowy boob flashes as well as dancing. And walking around in a swimsuit. And standing around in a swimsuit. And laying down in a swim suit. There’s also some pretty good violence, and the overall quality of the camera work, sound and even the script is above the usual Schadenfreuden standards. What makes this High quality crap is the simple fact that the movie keeps going on after the explosion.


We don’t like to reveal plot if we don’t have to. For most of these movies it’s just adding insult to injury, literally. But about 2/3 of the way through this film, there’s a huge explosion accompanied by jungle drums, which is the universal symbol for “this movie is almost over, for we have spent our budget on the huge conflagration you have just seen. Enjoy the flames!” And then. . .and then. . . the movie just keeps going. You can’t continue a movie after the big explosion! You can’t! When God made the first movie, he said “Let there be a big explosion, a little kissing, and then the credits.” It’s just wrong. Dead wrong.
After the explosions, the plot stalls as the characters all start to make ridiculous decisions seemingly just to continue the suffering, to prolong the agony of us sitting there. It was not until fifteen minutes after the explosion, did this film become a Schadenfruede movie. Even a repeated quick shot of Miss Tania’s ‘talents’ do not salve the frustration of the long slow death-rattle-ending of this movie. Shark enthusiasts will enjoy the last few scenes, though it is a long slog to that blessed place.


A special treat is the inclusion of Robert Bray, who played the Ranger in the classic TV series, “Lassie”. He is a manly hunk of flesh in this tropical picture, and I sure he enjoyed being able to do a little more than pet a pooch. And the bombshell Tania seemed appreciative of his handling skills! Go, dog! Go! Forgive the puns, Mr. Bray, ya did good!


Some fun stuff particular to this flick are:
That fast talking Fiend. He’s got good crazy!
Shark stock footage
Tania and her lai!


Classsic bad movie elements contained in this Flick
Stereotyped natives
Stock footage of parrots
Little mention of title element, “dope”


THE DRINKING GAME FOR “Girl in Trouble”


DRINK WHEN:
Every crack of the whip.
When you see the back of the doctor.
Whenever Tania does something nice for or to the natives

CHUG A WHOLE BEER WHEN:
Tania starts a dance
You see ‘dope”


IF ONE HAS TO WRITE A COLLEGE ESSAY FOR FILM CLASS

The fiend of Dope Island is an almost paradoxical satire of Stalinist politics as interpreted though Che Guevara’s writings of Political reality in South America. The fiend, Stalin, Lashes out continuously at the island inhabitants, demanding they do whatever he says. But the local politics will not bend to the will of the Fiend, for distance and nature herself, played by Tania Velia, will always rise against the tyrant. It is the Leninist dialectic itself which predicts the downfall of Stalinist era realpolitik.



SCHADEN FREUDEN SCORE
Elements: 5 (out of 10)
Titillation: 2 (out of 5)
Wrongness: 3 (out of 5)
Style & Funness: 3 (out of five)
Extra points: 2 (out of five)
TOTAL: 15 (out of 30 )

SUPPORT THE SUFFERING, SUPPORT THE HAPPINESS

CLICK BELOW TO SHOW YOUR APPRECIATION.

Schadenfreude Review-My Baby is Black

My Baby is Black
1965



My Baby is Black was released in 1965. It was publicized by the Exploitation Movie Distributers of the time as a shocking expose of the race problem in America. Which seems like an odd thing, as the movie is French. Let us be clear, it is not just shot in France, but it is written with French characters, situations, places and themes which never occur in the United States, thereby invalidating any possible accurate reflection of the race problem in America.


However in 1965 America, mixed race couples were rare, considered to be scandalous and even morally wrong by some. Isn’t that weird? The Egghead rationalizers of suffering have a technical term for mixed race mating: miscegenation, and it scared the hell out of a lot of people. But by 1969 the sight of white girl hippies kissing black male hippies would become almost required for any exploitation film released in the US. It’s still a social issue today, but exploitation films inadvertently helped to ease these racial tensions. Exploitation needs to frighten people a little in order to succeed, and by showing how miscegenation was not equal to aliens, mutants, junkies or even VD, a lot of wind got let out of the sails of hate.


But the Schadenfreude news is, even if My Baby is Black ain’t Guess Who’s Coming to Dinner, it’s still French. Extremely French. And with the gentle aging of forty plus years, the racial themes have mellowed - with the assistance of ridiculous French film styling. So the sour social grapes of 1965 have become heady and hilarious Vintage of 2011.


The movie’s opening is Option Number 7 from the Official list of “Predictable Opening Scenes that the Director Doesn’t Think is Predictable”. The lead actress is wheeled from an ambulance into a hospital room; it’s the old ‘Show the last scene first” trick! Right away, we know we’re in for an extra special treat when the background music kicks in. It sounds just like the singers from the original Star Trek theme song escaped from Rigel 7, dropped some acid, got a tympani drum and pressed ‘record’on a beat up cassette machine. We receive the second sign of Bad Movie Apocalypse in the form of the head doctor, who is smoking a cigarette while being dressed for surgery. And he keeps on smoking the cigarette during the procedure! The music builds, and AHHHHHHH! It’s a black baby! What? That’s the horror? It’s not even reversely offensive, it’s just silly! And this was tested amongst the multiple races of the Conclave as being genuinely ridiculously funny.


Over and over again we found ourselves saying ‘Wow! This movie is extremely French’; from the pointless stock footage of French slums to close ups on bleached skulls inexplicably strewn about the room. The camera seems to be everywhere except on the people talking. It’s more Cocteau than thou! And when it is not French, it is preachy. And when it is not that. . . well, it’s just those two things. There are montages aplenty about the love of our lead characters, and they such French-y things about their love such as, “In the great feast of love, everything has the color of love.” And a bad translation helps a bad script come off like a First Year French Grammer Book written by Jean-Paul Satre.


A funny aspect of the movie is the character of Daniel, who is perfect, smart, handsome and brave. He has no bad characteristics. All the Anglos in the movie are flawed, often they openly admit their flaws. But Daniel has none it seems. At the Schadenfreude Conclave, we do not judge a movie by what it claims to be, we judge it by what it is. When we strip a film of it’s pretense in this manner, we create a window into the mental viscera of existence: our suffering ethnic antagonist, Daniel, is a perfect person, and many movies who fought for racial justice put forth ethnic characters who had nothing but positive qualities, which made them perfect and therefore stereotypes! The Circle of BullShit, we call it here at the Conclave. Imagine being stuck between the role models of Sydney Poitier and Buckwheat. One is a lie, the other an impossible goal.


Some caution, the N word is uttered several times near the end of the movie. But most of the racial tension has been let out of this tire a long time ago. There is also one side boob shot. But that’s it. We recommend this one with cultural study groups. Or your grandparents. Watch ‘em sweat and relive the days when this stuff mattered.


Some fun stuff particular to this flick are:

The French students, oh so lame.
The theme music. Oh so unique
The shots of the feet. Oh, so sole-y.

Classsic bad movie elements contained in this Flick
The dubbing and bad translation
Montage, montage, montage
French everything or anything

THE DRINKING GAME FOR “My Baby is Black”

TAKE A DRINK WHEN:
You see the skull!
They compare their love to anything.

CHUG A WHOLE BEER WHEN:
You see Daniel’s feet!
The N word is uttered

IF ONE HAS TO WRITE A COLLEGE ESSAY FOR FILM CLASS

When considered the cultural landscape of deGaulle’s France, the Communist Front cannot be understood without first analyzing, “My Baby is Black.” The Socialist themes contained in the overt plot are obvious, but the revisionist economic pleading for a laissez- faire trading platform in Europe are subtly stitched into the subtext and the art laden picture poems of Paris in turmoil. We are all oppressed, as long as the salt tariff is over three percent.


SCHADEN FREUDEN SCORE
Elements: 8(out of 10)
Titillation: 1(out of 5)
Wrongness: 3(out of 5)
Style & Funness: 4(out of five)
Extra points: 3(out of five)

TOTAL: 19( out of 30 )

SUPPORT YOUR SUFFERING! SUPPORT YOUR HAPPINESS!
CLICK BELOW TO KEEP THE CONCLAVE ROLLING!

Schadenfreuden Review:Cottonpickin' Chickenpickers

SCHADENFRUEDE REVIEW



“Cottonpickin' Chicken Pickers”


Debuting two years before the Country Comedy TV Classic “HEE-HAW”, the cinematic brow-creaser, “Cotton Picking Chicken Pickers”, pioneered the use of country music themes, characters and music for comedic purposes. Except for, of course, the comedy.


Cotton Picking Chicken Pickers features eight country songs which don’t empirically reach our standards of badness. They are competently sung, fulfill the Nashville hit song formula of the time, and are backed up by adequate arrangements. Unfortunately, they are surrounded by cinematic Mustard Gas. Any relief the songs may have provided the original viewers of this movie would have been eclipsed by the overall stench of every other frame of this Farm born comedy which should have been used as fertilizer in that same farm.


Now, gather around the pickle barrel and take a big briny bite of the plot of this movie. CPCP,is about one guy in red pants and another guy in a red jacket who want to be famous so they ho-bo a train and accidentally wind up in Florida. Then comedy ensues. Unfortunately, comedy’s en-sue-ing is tossed out of court and Reality Conter-en-sues with the unholy power of Three Johnny Cochrane’s. To get you warmed up, the first song is sung by a scary gent who looks just like Shoney’s Big Boy on a train car behind a bale of hay next to a horse. He just pops up and starts singing, the weird part is that instead of stabbing him in the face and stealing the horse, the two Red Clad men just sit and listen.


The sound quality is a problem with any cut of the film, or rather a blessing, as The Schadenfreude Conclave has concluded there is not a single joke that works. And yes, a handicap was allowed for the age of the film and the South’s loss of the Civil War. Even with these bonus points, the humor sucks to the very core of the Earth, spewing forth the magma of horribleness upon every eye that witnesses this crime of the Thalian art! Prat falls fail, jokes aren’t, clever word play isn’t and the performers flounder in a sea of bad ideas poorly executed. The Schadenfruede Conclave is still reeling from the heady fumes of failure!


In addition, the stereotypes are truly superbly offensive. We get to see the classic Hillbilly, along with a swamp Indian, a drunken doctor, and four dumb girls and their swimsuits. The girls in their little camp will delight you with the instant decision to make some men their boyfriends simply because they showed up at their campsite. To relate the entire catalogue of instances of idiocy will eat too many bytes in our hard drive. Time has mellowed this stinker into a perfect Schadenfruede vintage, superb to witness and bad for the whole family!


Some fun stuff particular to this flick are:
The explosions at the end of the film
That damn red jacket with the hood
Mel Tellis not stuttering
The Charles Nelson Reilly Impersonator
Featuring the Cadillac-Boat!

Classsic bad movie elements contained in this Flick
Bad car chase, slow and pointless
Bad writing
Pointless large breasted girl in a bathing suit
The explosions at the end of the film

THE DRINKING GAME FOR “CottonPickin’ Chicken Pickers”

DRINK WHEN:
Whenever a song begins
Whenever a song ends
You see the hillbilly
The blockade gets smashed!

CHUG A WHOLE BEER WHEN:
The Cadillac-Boat floats on the river
The boys get caught chickin pickin’!

IF ONE HAS TO WRITE A COLLEGE ESSAY FOR FILM CLASS

As the paradigms used in Beckett’s “Waiting for Godot” have evaporated in the cultural milieu we obliquely call the Modern Media, we must move on to ‘CottonPickin’ Chicken Pickers” to provide us with a new symbolic tale of mankind lost in it’s own environment, or even in it’s own mind. The rural motif is exploded here as a false icon, a deliberate mask over the realpolitik of consumerism. This is centered in the line, “ I don’t care what else they are, ‘cuz they are Cotton Pickin Chickepickers!” As we all are, if we dare to steal a moment of time from the forces that would remove the benefits of consciousness from our cultural landscape.


SCHADEN FREUDEN SCORE
Elements: 10 (out of 10 )
Titillation: 1 (out of 5)
Wrongness: 3 (out of 5)
Style & Funness: 5 (out of five)
Extra points: 5 (out of five)
TOTAL: 24 ( out of 30 )