Dolemite

"Detective: Now, I know you think you're smart, see, 'cause you got all them flashy clothes, you got that big car there, you got all them Black bitches working for you. 

Dolemite: You forgot about the white ones." 

Word of warning before viewing any Dolemite related picture.  Before the likes of 50 cent, P Diddy, DMX, Ice T, LL Cool J and all the other rappers turned actors, there was Rudy Ray Moore, comedian.  Dolemite was an alter ego created for comedy albums, much like Richard Pryor's wino.  He was never meant to be an action star, just a way to sell more albums.  Please consider that as the movie starts.

You are now safe to view the picture.

These are words I wish I heard before the first time I ever saw Dolemite.  I was fourteen, had only heard of Dolemite thanks to Robin Harris's rants in House Party.  But I'd already seen Shaft and Superfly.  How different could it be?

I can hear you laughing from here.

Rudy Ray Moore might have some sloppy Kung Fu, and his acting isn't even close to top notch, but he can entertain.  The first time I saw it, I didn't know what the hell I was even looking at, but I knew I liked it.  Having not watched it in twenty years, I can still say it's a fun way to pass two hours.

Dolemite is in jail for crimes he didn't commit, having been framed by the cops.  With the help of the warden and Queen B, he is released in order to stop a drug deal or something.  He also tries to prove his innocence, gets in a lot of fights, swears rather inventively at people, has some sex, and rhymes much of his dialogue.  John Shaft never did that.

"Man, move over and let me pass 'fore they have be to pullin' these Hush Puppies out your motherfuckin' ass!"

If you want a film with deep characterization, passable fight choreography, and an intricate plot...look somewhere else.  Those just wanting to have a good time, you will find it here.

AND THERE ARE SEQUELS! More on that tomorrow.

Cover of the Week - Three the Hard Way

The art might not be the greatest, but that tag line is fantastic!

Black Belt Jones

Nobody can kick ass and rock an Afro like Jim Kelly, and if you thought he got a chump death in Enter the Dragon, than you need to watch Black Belt Jones.  He will kick, punch, and yes, make some weird ass noises, as he takes it to the mob.

Don Steffano is a powerful man.  He's got money, power, politicians and drug dealers in his pocket.  So when he says he needs the land that is currently occupied by the Black Byrd karate studio, you can bet his men will do anything they can to obtain it.

His drug dealing partner Pinky (Malik Carter) just happens to know Pop Byrd's (Scatman Crothers) weakness.  He's got a gambling problem, and the $1000 he owes soon becomes $11,000.  When Pop won't pay, they rough him up, and unfortunately kill him.  An extra pencil stroke turns that debt to $41,000.

However, when Pop died, the studio went to his long estranged daughter, Sydney (Gloria Hendry).  Instead of a pushover, they find out the hard way that she can take care of herself because, you see, she too knows Kung-Fu!

Being the mob, they still are not going to take no for an answer.  They kidnap Quincy, a star pupil, and Black Belt Jones (Kelly) finally gets more involved.

What follows can only be described as near non-stop martial arts action.  BBJ and Sydney, plus a few female acrobats, rip off the mob by infiltrating their winery (huh?) and stealing some pictures (what?) along with $250,000.  They set up Pinky.  More fighting.

I swear, you will never see more mustache clad men get their ass kicked then in this movie.

Will Black Belt Jones save the kid?
Will he get his revenge on Pinky?
Will he get the girl?

Yes, yes, and yes.  And along they way he will fight in the worlds largest bubble bath.

Sugar Hill

Langston (Larry D Johnson) has it going pretty well.  He's got a successful nightclub, Club Haiti, and a foxy woman on his arm.  So when a local gangster sends his right hand man, Fabulous (Charles Robinson), and a couple of token white thugs to "buy" the club, you think he'd at least consider it.  Unfortunately for him, he's not afraid and lets his mouth write some checks his ass can't cash.  After business hours, Fabulous and his boys literally kick him to death in the parking lot.

Langston's woman, Diana "Sugar" Hill (Marki Bey), isn't going to take his death lightly.  Were this any other film, perhaps a Pam Grier one, she'd get a gun and go kill those honky bastards.  But give credit to screenwriter Tim Kelly and director Paul Maslansky, this isn't a typical revenge flick.

Sugar just happens to know the local voodoo woman, Mama Maitresse (Zara Cully aka Mama Jefferson!), and together they are going to summon a Big Bad Voodoo Daddy, Baron Samedi (Don Pedro Colley)!  Instead of firearms, Sugar is going to get her revenge with silver-eyed, cobweb-covered, slave-shackled ZOMBIES!

How could anyone not love this movie?

From it's opening theme song (Supernatural Voodoo Woman by the originals) to it's final moment, Sugar Hill relishes in its absurdity.  Anyone taking this film seriously is going to be vastly disappointed, but after watching a chicken foot attack, how can anyone "take it seriously?"  Sugar gets herself a sexy jumpsuit and afro, and with them, an army of the undead to control.  This is not an Academy Award winning premise.  But the deaths are creative and fun, and most of the actors seem to be having a blast, especially the way over the top Don Pedro Colley. 

I found Sugar Hill to be a welcome divergence from the usual revenge formula.

"I give you your revenge!  Put them to evil use.  It's all they know or want."  -Baron Samedi

Mean Johnny Barrows

When a movie begins with a Vietnam GI almost blowing up and then punching a superior officer, it gives one high hopes.  When that grunt is a take-no-shit Fred Williamson, expectations are raised even higher.  Unfortunately Mean Johnny Barrows fails those hopes and dreams in every way.

Williams is Mean Johnny Barrows, a complete misnomer since he spends the majority of the film going out of his way to be nice.  He smiles politely at the mob boss who offers him a plate of spaghetti and a job after he wanders into a restaurant kitchen.  He grins and bears it as a racist ass works him as a gas station janitor for the better part of the month.  Only when he's paid a meager $21 for the work does he flash some very weak kung fu and attitude.

Mostly what Johnny Barrows does in this film is nothing.  Seriously.  For 4/5ths of the film people try to get him in on the fight between two hilariously stereotypical mob families, the Da Vinces and the Raconnis.  He stays out of it until the girlfriend of Mario Raconni, the blond haired bombshell , is "raped" by Tony Da Vince (Roddy McDowall).  It's all part of an elaborate scheme that Barrows completely falls for, and for an action packed twenty minutes Williamson actually does some killing.

But it's too little, too late.  By the time Williamson takes revenge, I was bored.  The script was awful, and the direction, a debut by Williamson, was clumsy.  The only bright spot in this film was a completely unnecessary, but highly entertaining cameo by Elliot Gould.  His homeless, but highly fashionable tramp, Professor Theodore Rasputin Waterhouse, "teaches" Barrows how to be honorable vagrant even as they con a man out of a hot dog.

If you do make it past that scene and all the way to the ending, you might be pleasantly surprised by the silliest Kung Fu fight I've ever seen outside of a Dolemite film, and a big bang of a finale, but I'd recommend just fast forwarding until then.  You'll thank me.

Black Dynamite

"Hit the sheets or hit the streets"

I grew up in a tiny central Maine town.  We're talking like a thousand people, with half as many livestock.  It's about as far away from the "street" as one can get.  I never had to worry about "the man" keeping me down.  My urban experiences were nil with the exception of cable television.  WGN out of Chicago, which I'm still not sure why my cable company carried that particular station, brought me Good Times, The Jeffersons, and most importantly Chicago Cubs baseball.

And every so often a movie would be broadcast, sometimes late Saturday nights, which would expand my "street" knowledge.  I didn't know the term blaxsploitation, but I knew these films were something special.  Made on the cheap, usually with bad actors and terrible effects, the centered around one man and his need to make things right.  And because I was a young man, I paid careful attention to the ladies he met along the way.

Black Dynamite made me feel like that kid again.

Raw with energy, kung fu, and yes, boobs, Black Dynamite spends the entire movie putting the moves on the ladies and making with the moves on any jive ass turkey who decides to test his skills.  It's outrageous, endlessly quotable, full of stock footage (I see you Missing in Action 2) and the most fun I've had watching a movie in quite some time.

Michael Jai White, an actor I've never really liked, is pitch perfect, flexing his muscles and kicking his way to a criminally underrated performance.  The writing is intentionally flawed, with the deliveries from all actors as mannered as possible.  Watch in delight as one such performer actually reads his directions as well as his dialogue.  Sure, they knew they were making an homage, but not once did they overplay it.  They were serious in their humor, if that makes sense.  And in an industry where pieces of shit like Epic Movie are considered "funny" its nice to see that a sly wink to the audience can succeed.  (Too bad it wasn't as financially as successful.)

So grab your 40oz of Anaconda Malt Liquor... or on second thought, don't.  You'll understand why.




poster designed and printed by Dave Hunter and Ron Donovan.

Baadasssss 101

If you are going to study any subject, it's best to start with an introductory course.

First up on my list was director Isaac Julien's documentary, Baadasssss Cinema.    For those just starting to explore the blaxspoitation genre, this is a pretty good place to start.   There are interviews with actors such as Samuel L Jackson, Fred Williamson, Gloria Hendry, Pam Grier, as well as directors like Larry Cohen, Gordon Parks, and the motor mouthed Quentin Tarantino.  To balance out the creative side, Julien also interviews critics (Elvis Mitchell, Armond White) a historian (Ed Guererro) and even Tupac Shakur's mom (Afeni Shakur).

He also takes you step by step through the creation of the genre, with Melvin Van Peebles Sweet Sweetbacks Baadassss Song through to Tarantino's Jackie Brown, which brought Pam Grier back into the spotlight.  There are clips from numerous genre classics, including Shaft, Foxy Brown, Super Fly etc. etc. etc.

Where the film is strongest is in it's brief exploration of Pam Grier, and the importance of her films.  Because the documentary is only 55 minutes long, its not nearly as long as it should be, something that is unfortunate about this entire film.  I would have loved to see the length doubled.

I didn't learn anything new, but for any of you newbies out there, it wouldn't be a bad place to start.

However, if you don't have Netflix, or a local video store that carries this particular film, you can always check out what I've posted below.  Like Baadasssss Cinema, it doesn't go to far below the surface, but it's got Ice T in a pimp suit.  Enjoy.