THE HEARSE (1980)

THE CARD:

Trish “The Fairlady Z” Van Devere, Joseph “(Off) The Wagon” Cotten, David “The Phantom” Gautreaux, Donald “The Rambler” Hotton, Med “The Black & White” Flory, Perry “The Mustang” Lang, and Christopher “LeBaron” MacDonald. 

More details here.

THE ANGLE: 

Mousey plain Jane (Van Devere) is struggling with the recent loss of her mother and a painful divorce which resulted in mental breakdown.  She seeks solace and healing in the country home of her deceased aunt which she inherited in her mother’s will.  She travels to the sleepy town of Blackford where every male drives like a jerk, salivates over her like a bug-eyed cartoon wolf, and carries on like she’s Cheryl Tiegs.

She’s not Cheryl Tiegs.

But the soothing bucolic splendor of sexual harassment is abruptly broken up by the presence of a creepy black hearse that follows Jane, frequently sideswiping her because she is constantly driving at night.   

I accuse this hearse of heresy down the Hershey Highway!

Jane’s therapeutic getaway sinks further to shit fail as the townsfolk treat her like crap and she begins to see the ghost of her dead aunt poking around the house.  And worst, she’s harassed by boozy realtor Walter (Cotten), condescending Reverend Winston (Hotton), and leering deviant Sheriff Denton (Flory) who all think she’s nuts.

To say nothing of the aspiring porno actor/carpenters.

When visited by Walter, who in consultation with Scooby Doo plots to scare Jane away so he can take over the house, she nonchalantly announces that she’s known all along that dear old dead Auntie was a Satanist who was in love with a handsome stranger but died suddenly.  And on the day of her funeral, the hearse carrying her body blew up over the town’s bridge.  Something for the family scrapbook I’m sure.  She then starts reading her Aunt’s diary and has disturbing dreams in which she is chased across the dark countryside and/or stars in a Bonnie Tyler video.

A total eclipse of my pants!

Also, the driver of the hearse walks the halls of her house, breaks windows and dishes, and appears to her in broad daylight.

Haunted hearse driving is just a summer job for The Most Interesting Man in the World 

But when things are looking bleak, a handsome stranger named Tom (Gautreaux) enters her life, romances and sweeps her off her feet, reassuring her that all her troubles will soon end.  But the strangeness continues and you can bet that there’s something far more ominous at work that will cure Jane's problems forever.  Probably the hearse’s gas bill.

“$4 a gallon, are you *&%ing kidding me?!!!”

THE FINISHER:

The Hearse is not really an evil car movie per se, but more an atmospheric ghost story that slow burns creepily towards a confusing, lackluster resolution.  I mean, the hearse itself is evil I guess but its body count is nowhere near colleague evil cars The Car or Christine, (although it dents Jane’s Chevy Nova many, many times).  For the most part, the story is hackneyed with the forced hostility towards Jane lacking a clear motivation. Every character either wants to kill her or screw her, but we never really get to know why.  It probably would have helped to flashback to the Aunt and her beau’s satanic doings in the past.  The movie was Van Devere’s follow-up to The Changeling with husband George C. Scott, a far superior ghost story in every way, but being a trooper she invests in the character of Jane but appears to be the only character working with the material.  Cotten, who slummed around in low-budget fare in the last part of his life, runs through his lines while Gautreaux turns in a slick, spooky performance.  Visually, the hearse and the driver are the highlights but the film ends up fairly bloodless and low on scares.  The Hearse is not terrible or really unwatchable, but its terror mileage is certainly low.    

But, hell it’s got a cameo by Porky himself!

CRASH! (1977)

THE CARD:

Sue “BANG!” Lyon, Jose “POP!” Ferrer, John “GLUG!” Carradine, John “THUD!” Ericson, Leslie “EEK!” Parrish, and Jerome “WHO?” Guardino.

More details here.

THE ANGLE: 

Don’t worry, this movie contains no perverts who like to do it during fender benders or Sandra Bullocks whining in some rich white guy’s vision of a racially simmering Los Angeles that are about as realistic as my aspirations to win the LGPA.  Even better, we have an evil car fueled by blood-steamed vengeance that, *pinch me*, actually growls!

“Grrr…I’m an evil car…grrr…wait, ‘blood steamed?’”

Our story begins when young hottie Kim (Lyon, Lolita) goes shopping in a drive-in swap meet to search for, well whatever it is people buy at swap meets.  Tires?  Gum?  Cheese spread?  Desperation?

You’re a long way from Humbert Humbert’s, baby.

Turns out people buy old Hittite relics that hold the power to unleash hellish vengeance at the very whim of their owners, which is exactly the kind of discount knick-knack Kim purchases from a wheezy swap meet weirdo.  She returns home to her wheelchair-bound husband Marc (José Ferrer) who’s intensely jealous and suspicious of his pretty wife’s life on two-feet.  

“Well, at least I can say I nailed Rosemary Clooney.”

The couple fights over Marc’s constant outlandish accusations of her infidelity and when Wheelie gets violent, she flees their home. Naturally, they seek counseling and therapy and in time trust is re-established and their relationship prospers and strengthens through their newfound belief in one another.  Naaaah.  He sends his monstrous pitbull after her as she’s driving away.  The dog attacks her in her black convertible which crashes and erupts in flame.  Still clutching the idol, she survives the accident and awakes in the hospital with severe wounds, amnesia, and a bout of demonic possession.  

That’s ObamaCare for you!

Using Kim’s subconscious desire for vengeance, the idol takes control of her convertible which starts to terrorize motorists, cops, and hippies in vans all across the land.  

Boom goes the Hittite dynamite.  (tee-hee, “Hittite”)

Her doctor Greg (Ericson) and nurse Kathy (Parrish, Giant Spider Invasion) take a special interest in Kim’s case.  They notice her spellbound obsession with the idol and decide to investigate its power through intense research and consulting scholarly journals, local libraries, and renowned experts. Naaaah.  They call on John Carradine.

“It’s origin is *HIC*…*HIC*…*HIC*…Hittite.”

Greg discovers that the only person who can unravel the mystery of the idol is of course Marc himself, an cultural anthropologist.  When Marc discovers that Kim survived the attack, he plots to kill her in the hospital but fails.  He returns home where Kim remotely controls his wheelchair to kill him.  

Couldn’t get a screenshot of the wheelchair attack, so here’s another shot of possessed Lolita.

Meanwhile, the possessed vehicle continues its motoring massacre wiping out every used car and leftover Starsky & Hutch cop car in the state.

Hal Needham wept.

Eventually, Marc takes Kim home from the hospital and promptly locks her in the couple’s spa as the car circles the house, calling Marc out as Kim reaches the moistness of a good hot dog bun.  Most of this final showdown is comprised of Kim regaining her memory in which the movie FLASHES BACK EVERY SINGLE CAR CRASH FROM THE LAST HOUR!  And once the final showdown/time filler is complete, all you’ll want is a warm place to forget and to CRASH!

THE FINISHER:

If you lived and breathed in the 80s and were able to walk and be semi-sober, chances are you’ve seen and/or heard a Charles Band movie, or at the very least been felt up during one.  His companies Empire Pictures (Cemetery High, Re-Animator) and Full Moon Features (Puppet Master, Dollman) pumped out many a Friday night creature feature and enough cinema badness to fill 365 Days of Halloween.  (Please, no!)  Just looking at his output as director and producer makes me want to rethink Spielberg and Kubrick as childhood movie influences.  And the man had his hand in just as much greatness (From Beyond) as he did crap (Robot Holocaust).  Speaking of crap, Band’s foray into the evil car sub-genre is CRASH!, a super duper low budget occult thriller shot somewhere in central California over a weekend, or so it appeared.  Now, anyone born before 1977 can call me Will Rogers but I’ve never seen a movie with lots of car crashes I didn’t like.  But CRASH! is a mixed mélange of horror, melodrama, and action that delivers spectacularly cheap returns.  The movie is about one-third evil car, one-third possession/revenge story, and one-third “where’s the remote?”, the last third due to facts that the cinematography is murky (shot by future The Fugitive director Andrew Davis), the plot nonsensical to labyrinthine at times, and that the vile convertible seems to occupy a universe where cars blow up by lightly tapping them.  CRASH! was an early Band film and the amateurism surely shown throughout is forgivable and not completely terrible.  In fact, Lyon and Ferrer are good sports dealing with all the silliness, explosions, and vehicle smashing.  And the car, well, the car was a just a grouchy pompous ass!

“GRRRRRR…”

THE WRAITH (1986)

THE CARD:

Charlie “Wheel Stud” Sheen, Nick “Spoiler” Cassavetes, Sherilyn “Trim Package” Fenn, Randy “Fender Bender” Quaid, Matthew “Hubcap” Barry, and Clint “Nut” Howard. 

More details here.

THE ANGLE: 

Mysterious lights descend from the sky into the Arizona desert, race down a rural highway at light speed, and merge to form an enigmatic figure in black and his turbo-charged car.  The sight is as baffling as the state’s preference for wacko governors.

“Just point me to the nearest Eegees.”*

Meanwhile on the same rural highway, teen psycho Packard (Cassavetes) leads a bunch of Road Warrior/Sid and Nancy rejects terrorize drivers, challenges them to near-death races, and steals their car when they’re run off the road.

You pay with a pink slip, but the lickin’s free.

Packard's punks also use words like “quif city” and “dick butter” and drink toxic Kool-Aid moonshine and hydraulic fluid.  But on the plus side, they get to hang out with Clint Howard.

Clint Howard...heals the pain.

The following morning, a stranger named Jake (Sheen) arrives on a motocross bike into town.

The only winning here is by insomniacs.

He immediately stops to ogle town cutie-pie Keri (Fenn).  And really, can you blame him?

A pre-Twin Peaks Fenn shows off her twin peaks.  (I hate myself).

We soon learn that tinderbox-tempered Packard is dangerously obsessed with Keri and threatens to kill anyone who gets near her.

Billy Zabka and Rick Springfield mated and pooped this out.

In fact, we also learn that unbeknownst to Keri, he’s responsible for the brutal murder of her previous boyfriend, Jamie.  Jamie’s brother Billy (Barry) befriends Jake and notices that the stranger shares the same scars and wounds as his dead brother.  Hmmm.

This is the extent of the scary scenes in The Wraith.

So Keri and Jake begin a secret courtship (which I can only assume happens because Sheen disappears for most of the movie) while Packard and his mentally-challenged gang members pursue and race the mysterious Turbo and each meet fiery demises.

I’m assured that this car complies with Arizona’s Hands-Free Evil laws.

When the car takes a life, it not only ruins the exterior and serious degrades the resell value, it also takes the driver’s soul by removing their eyes ala Three Stooges.

HEY MOE!

So as the car offs the punks one by one, the town’s Sheriff (Quaid) finally gets involved not only because does he despises Packard but it’s also election season.

Back in the days when Quaid was still sane.

The Sheriff’s fleet of Chrysler K-Cars gets smashed by the ghost car and it appears that its vengeance is far from over until it delivers a final message to the vile Packard.

The Ghost of Carburetors Future

After Packard steps up his game and learns to remember his lines, he escapes the cops, kidnaps Keri, and challenges the Turbo to a final race.  And this is all leading to the huge reveal of the identity of the Turbo’s vengeance-fueled driver.  And you know how it will turn out but if you don’t, your movie-watching license should be revoked.

THE FINISHER:

Longtime reader(s) of Tremendo Time might recall that I’ve variously mentioned that I grew up in a town that had no movie theater for most of the 80s.  The Wraith is one of many movies I missed out on during this time and didn't catch later, not even on cable where this was a late night staple.  While going through the research on evil car movies I at first disqualified this picture because I thought it was more of a sci-fi flick.  But it does possess the essentials of an evil car as it's about a mysterious vehicle under an unknown power that kills people for revenge so that’s enough qualification for me.  

One last pic of Sherilyn. (I need the hits!)

So let’s review.  The Turbo was designed for the movie by Dodge and is pretty cool.  It's got a sleek, futuristic design that recalls a Delorean or maybe the car from Black Moon Rising but smaller and lightweight.  In several shots, you can see that it’s basically a frame on wheels.  Sheen is barely in the movie, occupying a few minutes in the beginning to set up his character and then disappearing until the start of the third act.  He did little that was memorable. Cassavetes insists on playing his villain role straight-faced which results in over-scowling with a constant non-reaction to anything, not even when he’s got a shotgun in the face by the Wraith’s driver.  Packard’s gang is pure comic relief, at times unintentionally funny, at other just miserably inept.   Fenn is given little to do but stand around, squirt a few tears from her diamond-blue puppy dog eyes, and look awesome.  Quaid is wasted in a non-comic role and makes it really hard to take Cousin Eddie seriously as tough as nails Sheriff.  Clint Howard was Clint Howard and that should be good enough for me or any of you all!  But in the end, the movie plays out like a High Plains Drifter acted by my high school class drama club.  So if you dig the 80s sound and feel, cool cars, explosions, a decidedly 80s soundtrack (Ozzy, Sammy Haggar, Motley Crue, and heavy metal gods Robert Palmer and Bonnie Tyler), bikinis, thongs, and requisite nudeness, greasy hamburgers, and phallic cacti, The Wraith should be your vehicle of choice.

*Hello, Tucson friends!

THE PAUL LYNDE HALLOWEEN SPECIAL (1976)

Actor/comedian/game show staple Paul Lynde is a TV icon of the 1970s.  His career spanned Broadway to bit parts in sitcoms to feature film comedies to bigger parts in network shows to perhaps his most memorable role occupying the center square on the original Hollywood Squares.  Older folks will remember him as mischievous Uncle Arthur on Bewitched while younger people may not realize that Lynde's trademark snarky, catty mannerisms are still referenced in characters from The Simpsons, American Dad and Family Guy.  Lynde played the awkward nervous guy and self-absorbed foil to perfection.  He reveled in the sarcastic quip and was a master of the witty double-entendre which often alluded to his secret but not so secret sexual preference.  He was a really funny guy.  So it's no surprise that ABC tapped him to do a couple of TV holiday-themed variety shows*.  The Paul Lynde Halloween Special aired on October 29th, 1976 and featured a cavalcade of stars including an iconic rock band's television debut and absolutely no members of Chewbacca's family.  Let's review.

The show opens with Lynde confusing the theme of his holiday special.

X-mas, Easter, and Valentine's would all be more tolerable with a little Lynde.

After a scolding by his maid (Margaret Hamilton, aka Wizard of Oz's Wicked Witch of the West), Lynde performs an agonizing Bruce Vilanch-scripted monologue filled with election day and fat kid jokes that, to no fault of Lynde's, land like 10-ton candy corns.   

I'd like to see John Stewart blab against an awesome giant jack-o'lantern background. 

But we do learn that Lynde was a chubby kid who one Halloween dressed up like the Hindenburg.  The result?  It was a disaster. Hey oh!!  (I actually chuckled warmly at that one.)  Last word on the monologue: a Bugsy Malone reference!  Paul then sings a song and dance number about kids and Halloween that ends with him being dumped in a trash can by other variety show icons Donny & Marie: 

She's a little bit Satan, he's a little bit red-sequined Prince Valiant.

Margaret then wisks Paul away for an evening at her sister's house who turns out to be H.R. Pufnstuf's Witchiepoo (Billie Hayes). Goddamn this thing is soooo 70s.

If the Wicked Witch and Witchiepoo can't turn Paul, no one can.

Margaret reveals to Paul that the pair of witches have a hidden agenda in their invitation to the Witchiepoo castle which thankfully is not a threesome from my nightmares.  They want Paul to use his star power to dis-spell the myths of evil witches and spread a better image.  Margaret then reveals her true identity.

She was instrumental in releasing Toto's Africa in the 80s. Heh...heh...

They also introduce Paul to Miss Halloween (Betty White), who mistakes him for Paul Newman and then insults him cruelly.

"In thirty-five years, I will be a GOD!"

In exchange for some good press, the witches grant Paul three wishes.  His first  wish is to become a truck driver, or at the very least participate in a really long, drawn-out sketch about truck driving which was fricking HUGELY popular in the 70s.  Seriously, they made movies and TV shows about it and everyone talked in CB Radio talk and ate a lot of bacon and did speed and there was a huge hemorrhoid epidemic and ... well, let's just say it was just a very confusing time.  What happens next are three words that have saved many a shitty variety show: Enter Tim Conway.

"Breaker, breaker, anyone got a 20 on Harvey Korman so I crack him the fuck up?"

The sketch involves Paul and Tim fighting over the same scrawny truckstop waitress (Roz Kelly, better known as The Fonz's girlfriend Pinky Tuscadero from Happy Days).  

Pinky looks like she's made a stinky.

Guys, if this thing gets any more 70s, Elton John's disco sunglasses will sprout from my head. Anyway, Paul wins the girl when he announces that he'll be rich because a movie is being made about his life called "Deep Truck" in which he has a "teeny weeny part".  Another warm chuckle.  The gang and some hard-bodied bachelors then engage in the biggest dance number about truck driving since Convoy.  

Nothing screams Halloween more than dancing and singing about trucks.

So far, I can't see how a kid, even a 70s kid, would enjoy this special.  Despite the presence of kid show star Witchiepoo, none of the jokes are dumbed down for children, not even stupid children.  To illustrate, Paul's next wish is to be a Arabian sheikh and make out awkwardly in a desert tent with Florence Henderson.  Florence of Arabia, guys!  HAHAHAHAHAHA...heh...heh...

Some immense will power in display here, folks.

A couple of cheap plugs to ABC TV shows Laverne & Shirley, Happy Days, and Baretta and a few bestiality jokes later, Florence sings a disco version of 'That Old Black Magic'.

Forget Florence, I want this goddamned neon bat!

But then we come to the real curious cultural artifact of this special: the television debut of KISS.  They take the Witchiepoo stage and belt out their hit Detroit Rock City.

Toned down were the lyrics and Paul Stanley's bulge.

I have to be honest here and risk the un- and de-friending of some good pals but I never thought KISS was any good.  I thought they were all flash, flesh, and gimmick.  Kids around the neighborhood worshiped these guys, which gave way to the adoration of the similarly silly sheet-metal bands of the 80s. I guess have KISS-lexia because I can't tell any of their songs apart, aside from the popular ones.  Gene Simmons, who I admire as a man who enjoys a good comic book and ghost story, is despised as a reality star and snake oil salesman for anything and everything KISS.  There's my honesty, bared out in the open.  But in the special they are really good sports and lip-synch their hearts out.  They follow Detroit Rock City with other giant hit Beth.

I wished he purred this song.

Lastly, they blow the roof off the dump with King of the Night Time World. And then Lynde knocks it out of the park with a "kiss and make-up" joke.  Last warm chuckle of the evening.  In the final number, everyone gathers to sing something that involves the lyric "Move it in, move it out, Disco Baby!" repeatedly while KISS chills in the rafters.

Ace refuses to participate in the Disco Baby abomination, probably because he's asleep.

The show ends with Paul Lynde addressing the TV audience directly and sincerely thanking them for "accepting him" (for real, his words!) and letting his kooky troupe entertain us this evening.  Despite the corniness, the hit-and-miss one-liners, the lack of specific Halloween-related skits, and the fact that I forgot to include Billy Barty's presence in the show, The Paul Lynde Halloween Show was an amusing and fond look back at a time long gone.  Despite a few attempts to restart the genre, variety shows have been replaced with singing contests and reality talent shows, and we may never see the likes of star-driven holiday shows again (Stephen Colbert a very strong exception).  But sadder is the fact that we may never see the likes of a Paul Lynde again, a man who despite a troubled personal life managed to keep us laughing and keeping our dirty minds active for decades with a swishy wit, sardonic smirk, and an acidicly dark sense of humor.  

Happy Halloween, Funny Man.

But I still want that goddamned neon bat!

*I could have sworn there is another Paul Lynde special with Alice Cooper, but my research came up empty.  Anyone? Anyone?