Werewolves on Wheels
1971
D: Michel Levesque (also co-wrote)
With roles as bikers for Barry McGuire (it was the "Eve of Destruction" for his acting career) and Bud from Father Knows Best Bikers, cursed by occultists, become werewolves
As far as movies I hadn't seen in a while living up to or exceeding my memory of them, I've had a pretty good run. So I guess it had to end eventually.
In this '71 biker-horror (odd how few of them there were), an MC called the Devil's Advocates, a typical hassle the squares type club, tempts fate by scoffing at a Tarot card reader and later partying in a graveyard, and then hanging out with some clearly evil cult types. Jeez, what could this lead to that's any good? (Certainly not the movie.)
After being drugged by the cult, Adam (Stephen Oliver) and the rest of the Advocates pass out, and the ritual begins. Cult leader One (Severn Darden, who not only has a great name but was in "Vanishing Point" and the final two of the original "Planet of the Apes" movies) guides them through some pretty cliche occult stuff in a scene that would be pretty cool if trimmed a bit. Adam's girl Helen (DJ Anderson) is bewitched after eating bread dipped in blood; when the bikers come to, they beat the crap out of the cult, grab her, and split to the desert to get their heads straight, man.
I dunno, then some stuff happens. Helen is suddenly fine, but then not fine because she looked into the fire. A couple is killed by a werewolf (not shown, but the resultant gore isn't too bad), though it's assumed to have been a coyote attack. Tarot (Duece Berry [Duece Berry was a workin' man...(Neil Young joke, in case you missed it)]) gets lines about heavy vibes and bad omens and the like, weird shit goes on, etc. And it all just kinda limps along to the ending.
Though a bit silly, this really isn't a bad premise. There are also some fantastic shots (the dust storm looks especially good), the acting is ok, and the soundtrack (by Don Gere) is great, especially the opening theme and a Velvet Underground-ish tune during the topless snakedance. Plus, yeah, there's a topless snakedance. Not to mention a van that's a-rockin' and a cool "local" type with a Billy Jack hat. The bikers look pretty legit, and include characters named Scarf, Mouse, and Movie.
The problem is that the script should have been fleshed out a little more, because there's a huge amount of padding and filler. Though it's only an 80 minute film, it's an 80 minute film that should have been an hour at most. I should probably mention as well that you only actually see a werewolf on a Harley for a few seconds, at the end.
And while I'm complaining, I'm really tired of seeing colors attached with pins and/or glue in so many movies. I can dig the low budget thing but can getting some sewing done really eat into a budget all that much?
This shoulda-been-great plodding mess is nowhere near as fun as I remembered it. Two dull, chipped wolf fangs for this one.
Claim to fame: With Marvin Gaye, Cheryl Ladd in a tiny role, and (uncredited) Erik Estrada and Grizzly Adams
Soldier hunts down the bike club responsible for the death of his fiancee
Odd that there were only a few biker flicks aimed at the "returning vet" audience; this is one of the best.
Motorcycle club the Wizards (nice colors), out riding, start clowning with a couple of girls in a car. One, Casey, gets a little too aggressive; the girls get scared and make a hard turn, causing Casey to lay down his bike. Not heeding club prez TJ (William Smith), Casey gives chase and smashes their windshield with a chain, sending the car out of control and over a cliff, killing the girls. (Like in "She-Devils on Wheels," the chain is left behind as evidence.) Casey, a very pissed-off TJ, and the rest of the Wizards split the scene.
Turns out one of the girls (Kathy, played by a very young Cheryl Ladd, then known as Cheryl Moor) is the fiancee of Mitch (veteran character actor Tony Young), a sergeant who trains young soldiers on their way to 'Nam. The police have no solid leads, so Mitch enliststs (sorry for the pun) a few of his buddies (including Marvin Gaye; oddly the publicity for the film doesn't seem to have really pushed him) to help him track down the club responsible. No outlaws will help a bunch of squares like them, so they decide to form their own club as a front.
In a learning to ride montage accompanied by a pretty lame song, the three master riding their (dirt)bikes, create dopey cuts with sergeant stripes to try to look like outlaws, and are on their way.
Meanwhile, TJ is not happy about Casey bringing possible heat on them, or Casey in general for that matter. They've got a good thing going, with the local police and citizens intimidated, and dumb shit like killing girls is grief they don't need. TJ would clearly like to just dump a headache like Casey, but a brother's a brother so what can one do.
Eventually Mitch tracks the Wizards down to their hangout at the Piru Billard [sic] Parlor, and even gets so in with them that he gets the whole story out of Casey's girl. The club eventually gets wise to and captures Mitch, but his buddies manage to free him and plot their final revenge.
A pretty cool (if a bit corny) plot, carried by a strong cast. Tony Young is so stiff it's enjoyable, and Michael Haynes is great as asshole Casey. William Smith is William Smith--the best. The big motherfucker, with his fu manchu and open-legged riding style, could not look cooler. Gaye is actually pretty natural as an actor, and Larry Bishop steals his scenes as the spaced out Gabriel.
Wish I know who that was doing the rockin' main theme. The rest of the music mostly sucks.
A legitimately solid and enjoyable action movie with very little filler or padding that still shows up on tv sometimes, usually on Turner stations. A fun and satisfying 3.5
For just her second feature, exploitation director Barbara Peters shot her own script, a more feminist take on the revenge movie. Here the lead is not a once-timid girl who snaps after being raped, but is already a tough broad and is hunting down her brother's murderer. While it certainly has its flaws, this is one of the most ambitious of the chick-themed biker movies, and certainly one of the best. (For the record, though, it's really a stretch to call this a biker movie.)
After leaving a party, Dag (a playing-it-to-the-hilt Dixie Peabody) is witness as an anknown assailant blows her brother Dennis's head off with a shotgun (the cheap FX here aren't bad). Though completely shattered, she does recover. Dag collects up her buddies Jonsie and Bernie (Terry Mace and Clyde Ventura), hops on the bike Den stole for her, and roars off to find the sumbitch.
After questioning various bikers and spending some time on the road, they track the guy to a small town. Here Dag meets nice guy Ken (Dan Haggerty)... Sign after sign has told her that vengeance was not the correct path. Can love finally make her see?
The movie is sure of where it wants to go, if occasionally less sure about how to get there. While there are some great scenes and some pretty cool ideas, like the weird-ass trippy nightmare, fantasy, and flashback scenes (one of which includes music remarkably similar to the "Taxi Driver" climax), it doesn't always work. The scene with Oriental mystic lady Op (who is, oddly, played by Angel Colbert, though Joan Gerber provides the voice), for example, is one of the interesting ideas that really doesn't add much of anything to the movie but time. And Dag, with her cussing, fighting, beer chugging, etc, can get a little over the top. Peters clearly took this movie pretty seriously, and therefore was maybe a little too close to the project to direct.
Still, it's paced fairly well; those scenes that don't work don't detract so much as just fail to add. And things get pretty weird at the end. An original take on a good story, with decent action and a pretty good soundtrack by the East-West Pipeline. And Dixie (who shows some bush, I might add) looks pretty goddamned good indeed on that bike. A solid 4.
The Wild Riders
1971
D: Richard Kanter (also wrote)
Two bikers, too depraved even for their own gang, are on the run after a murder and hole up in an upper class home occupied by two women
Before the credits even roll, two out of control bikers at an outdoor party sexually assault a young woman, then nail her to a tree. This is an attempt to out-tasteless "Satan's Sadists," and/or what happens when a home invasion/ rape movie is made by a porn director.
The bikers are Pete (Arell Blanton) and Stick (Alex Rocco), sort of a sadistic, angry George and a sexually warped Lenny, if Of Mice and Men was written by a pervert with class and anger issues.
The gang leader (Dirty Denny) discusses the attack with Pete, who's less than repentant to say the least, and decides that Pete and Stick have to go for the good of the club. After Pete starts a fight with another member by calling him a nigger (just to throw in that Pete's also a racist I guess), Pete and Stick part ways with the club.
When Pete spots two girls lounging by the pool at a swanky house, they decide to take over the house and its occupants. Rona (Elizabeth Knowles), whose husband is out of town and bores her anyway, is intrigued and invites them to stay for a bit, while her friend Laurie (Sherry Bain) is a bit more wary. As she should be.
Pete and Rona go off to do their thing, and Laurie is left to occupy the simpleton Stick. While Pete and Rona are making sweet sweet love, Stick loses his shit for no clear reason over a frog statue in a very effective scene. The film then jumps between Pete and Rona fucking and Stick raping Laurie; its clear afterward that Stick has no concept of rape, and to him they just made love.
The other couple learns of the rape, and though he does scold Stick, Pete insists it wouldn't have happened if Stick weren't provoked somehow; shockingly, Rona seems to accept this. Which is where the film starts making people uncomfortable. Though Pete is a violent criminal who steals from her (and, unknown to her, looks to rent her out to a biker buddy) and his partner has raped her friend, Rona clearly starts falling for him. In 1971, and with an exploitation writer/director at the helm, this comes off as the fucked-up trash it is, not as some bold Stockholm syndrome story. Though some of the action does effectively show some of the complicated emotions and conflicting feelings she'd be going through, that's clearly not the point. Pete spouts a lot of poor white rage rants to justify his behavior, and nothing in the film really refutes that.
For those reasons, and because watching this makes you feel just a little sleazier than you already are, even a lot of trash film fans dump on this one. Don't listen to those sissies.
This is uniquely warped and sleazy --and well crafted. The constant violence and tension build very nicely, the characters are developed very well, especially for such a movie, and overall it's sick, engrossing stuff almost on par with "The Last House on the Left" even. Probably not the best date night movie ever, though if you find a gal who enjoys it you've got a keeper (or someone you need to really worry about). Like with "Last House," just repeat to yourself: It's only a movie, it's only a movie... and you'll clearly see why this is a hard 4, and would get five full rapes if it were more of an actual biker movie than it is.
Early in the VHS tape trading days, these two were sometimes confused with one another, with people assuming one was the other with an alternate title. Surely, they must have figured, there can't be two different Jesus themed biker movies. But luckily for us, there were. So I sat myself down for a blasphemous double feature...
The Jesus Trip (also released as Under Hot Leather)
1971
D: Russ Mayberry
Some bikers on the run take along a nun as their hostage
Waco (Robert Porter) and his gang are on the run after being duped into smuggling heroin in from Mexico, and hole up in a convent. Local cop Tarboro (Billy Green Bush) finds them, but he's subdued and the bikers take off with Sister Anna (Tippy Walker) as their hostage. They keep Anna around longer than needed, primarily because of Waco's infatuation.
Tarboro turns out to be a borderline crazy vigilante cop with some 'cycle buddies of his own, and he's bent on tracking the gang down. Also after them are the drug smugglers--whom biker Pinole (Carmen Argenziano) may or may not be working with.
It's a fairly unique story that builds to a decent enough ending, but despite a few entertaining moments (like the great scene where Tarboro forces a couple of bikers to talk, or Folsom [Virgil Frye] very realistically shitfaced in a bar, yelling like he has Tourette's), "The Jesus Trip" is a letdown overall.
First and foremost, things like backstory and insight to motives are almost nonexistant. This is absolutely inexcusable, because there's a lot of time that would be better spent making us give a shit about the characters (and explaining what the hell the deal is with Tarboro and his gang) that is instead given over to an insane amount of filler. Riding scene, stop to rest and talk a second, riding scene. Every lingering shot lingers three or four times what is even comfortable, nearly every scene is just too long. It's a potentially original story, but it's never fleshed out; in the end it's interesting enough that you only feel you've wasted about 40 minutes of your life rather than the entire hour and a half.
By the way, why the hell is the soundtrack so horror movie?
Only 2 crosses for this one, but nice try.
J.C.
1972
D: William F. McGaha (also wrote and produced)
A peace-loving biker and his crew stop in his hometown to visit his sister, and are not welcome.
I really need to know more about William F. McGaha, the southern filmmaker who cranked this one out. He'd previously done "Bad Girls for the Boys" (1966; sounds like a porn) and "The Speed Lovers" (1968) before this one, which has a labor of love feel to it.
The film's writer, producer, and director also stars as the titular JC, the leader of a loose collection of bikers. No more into negative waves than Oddball, JC would rather smoke weed in his underwear than be out there with all the bummers, but a trippy dream leads him to give a sermon to his gang about peace, freedom, and a giant eye winking up in the sky that's one part lefty cliche and two parts insanity. They hit the road, deciding to stop at the small Alabama town JC grew up in. He wants to visit the sister he hasn't seen in ten years, but as we learn in bits and pieces, his past there is a dark one.
Aside from JC's sister Miriam (Joanna Cook Moore), no one in town is pleased to see him. Miriam's husband, the blue-collar, southern, angry racist stereotype Carlton, never liked JC even pre-biker, never mind now that he's got a nigger couple with him, and JC's former friend and rival Dan is now a deputy in line to be sheriff.
This never goes where you think it will, sometimes for the better and sometimes for the worse. The whole JC/Jesus Christ thing would have been far more effective if we'd gotten some background info earlier than we do. All of the "can't we all just get along" themes are typically syrupy, but somehow all of the related angles transcend the schmaltziness. Somehow, the way it's all tied together, the fact that it's actually not very good never bothers you. The only part that really bugs you, unfortunately, is the one that sets the climax into motion. In a major "dude, seriously?" moment, it's David (Hannibal Penney) --the black guy who has the rednecks the most irate-- who makes the beer run into town. How do you suppose that goes over?
A good job is done capturing the biker movie feel and mood, not bad considering no one involved had done one before or would again. McGaha pulls of being rivetingly good despite the fact that he's not very good; while not a terribly talented actor, he's got enough "it" to hold your attention (he also, I believe, breaks the record for ending sentences with "man," a record set by Duane Allman in a radio interview). The other bikers and mamas --with names like Mr. Clean, Happy Von Wheelie, and Shirley the Saint-- are nearly all non-actors, carried by the townspeople, mostly played by actors with minor TV and movie experience. The notable exception, of course, is the sheriff, played by Slim Pickens. The role, unfortunately, is a little inconsistent, with him sometimes seeming like a not-so-bad guy trying to keep peace, others like a bigoted thug. As a result (and also since he probably just wanted to shoot his scenes, pick up his check, and split), it's an uneven performace, with Pickens not clear on which way to go with it. But at his best, he has a ball with the role.
Hate to be a heavy negative vibe merchant, but the music, mostly hippie-christian folky pop by a group called Bethany, is just awful. Worse, the gang includes its own minstrel, who frequently warbles cringe-inducing ballads about their situations. He's a real bringdown, man.
But while I wished I was deaf here and there, I was never bored. This is a unique story that, cliches and all, moves along nicely. McGaha aimed higher than "The Jesus Trip," and was also more successful. Three crosses, and a recommendation that you check this out at least once.
Neither of these are the Bizarro World Jesus as MC prez/ cult leader you or I wish existed, but at least both sure beat the shit out of "Jesus Christ Superstar."
Notable: Jonathan Demme (who produced and co-wrote) and Scott Glenn work together 20 years before "Silence of the Lambs"; first film role for Gary Busey
Hippies and "good" bikers vs "bad" bikers
When their drug deal is interrupted by the cops, Long John (Scott Glenn) and some other Angels far from home decide to hang around a couple days and complete the transaction when the heat dies down. John, Monk (James Igelhart), and Juicer (Don Carerra) meet up with some members of the Dragons, who invite them to party and crash at the old ghost town they'd taken over from the hippies squatting there.
John meets flower chick Astrid (Gilda Texter, later seen riding a cycle nude in "Vanishing Point"), and the two are intrigued by and attracted to each other; unfortunately, the Angels also meet General (Charles Dierkop), the insane and Napoleon-like Dragons president. The paranoid General and his right hand man Axe (Gary Littlejohn) don't much care for the Angels, and begin showing it.
In a darkly shot scene, a Dragon starts to rape Astrid, and John bursts in to her rescue. A chaotic fight ensues, Astrid ends up stabbed to death, and the Angels are blamed. Though they're clearly innocent --and John suggests that maybe the killer was a Dragon looking to take out General-- they're tried in a kangaroo court and held in the old town jail. And Henry (Gary Busey) and the rest of the hippies aren't much help, at least at first, but their club brothers from earlier are starting to wonder where they are.
This is kind of a strange one. It aims fairly high with the violence as entertainment and senselessness of violence themes, but offers some cheap thrills of its own, like trying to have it both ways. The Angels were sentenced to "The Games," which includes being dragged down dirt streets and a game of "chopper ball," where they're surrounded, hands bound, in the desert by pool cue-wielding Dragons on motorcycles. And for all of Henry's anti-violence speeches, it's some serious ass kicking that saves the day.
The pacing is odd as well, moving briskly along here and getting bogged down there. Monk escapes into the desert but the bike breaks down, and the attention to his trek feels like padding to me. It feels, in fact, like it was prolonged just to have some racist on a dune buggy fuck with him for a bit.
Though three Angels are captured, it almost seems like it's just Glenn, who takes the role seriously and it shows. Monk ends up on his own, and Juicer is a pretty thin character, played by Don Carerra in a performance you'll never remember. Kristofferson lookalike Dierkop has a blast as the completely insane General, and Littlejohn is always reliably greasy. Some good minor bikers as well, like John Raymond Taylor as Crab (because...oh, you know). Dirty Denny, the first biker seen, has three credits under three names. Three checks? Doubtful.
Some of the music is ok, with a neat fuzz & tablas instro into the theme song, which goes for a Band type sound (with Levon Helm type vocals even). I should mention somewhere that there are some pretty nice titties in this one.
For Scott Glenn's performance (and those titties), "Angels Hard as They Come" gets a 3.5.
The Hard Ride
1971
D: Burt Topper (also screenwriter and producer)
Black biker killed in Vietnam leaves his custom bike to his white Marine buddy, to be delivered to his former MC leader--who isn't the only one who wants it.
Lenny, black former outlaw biker, ends up a dead Marine in Vietnam. For some strange reason, his death means his closest buddy, Phil (Robert Fuller), redeploys stateside. Phil gets Lenny's "in case I don't make it" letter, leaving everything to the orphanage that reared him, except for a nice bit of change for Phil, and a request that he deliver his chromed out custom bike Baby to his old club leader, Big Red.
Phil meets up with Sheryl (Sherry Bain), Lenny's ex-(white) girl, who clearly doesn't trust him. At the (great) bar and grille where Sheryl works, he meets some bikers who promise to take him to Big Red. They take him instead to their cool-ass desert hangout, and "Big Red" is actually their own leader, Grady (William Bonner*). Not tricked for long, Phil fights his way out.
The bulk of the middle of the film is the Phil-Sheryl relationship, and heavy-handed liberal themes. He's a square, she's a free spirit; he's no racist, Lenny was like his brother, darn it, etc. A cop pulls them over just to check out the bike (squares ain't so bad), a black thug figures she's an easy piece who just digs dark meat... All the straights/heads, black/white tedium you'd expect.
Finally out of the reach of Grady's gang --Big Red made it clear that he'd kill any of them who came near his territory-- Phil and Sheryl finally track Red. He turns out to be a prick who never particularly cared for Lenny, but Phil lays the will on him: Show up at the funeral, and Baby is yours. Red agrees.
Will it be that easy? Grady and his boys look to make sure it isn't...
Other than Baby, the only thing here particularly exceptional was the soundtrack by Harley Hatcher. The only word that comes to mind is competent. It's a pretty original story for the genre, and moves along at a decent pace. Early use of the Vietnam flashback device, I guess, when Phil fights Red and war sound effects are used. But the messages hit you with less subtlety than the most overwrought episode of a Norman Lear tv show. And everything just begs to be just a little better. Mike, the tough padre who runs the orphanage, should have been a bigger character, for example. A good watch, but nothing special. I'll give it a hard 2.5.
*Didn't want to clutter shit up with such an aside. Bonner was also in "Angels Wild Women," another one I've seen recently for the first time. Seeing this, I immediately recognized him as the biker in the dreadful "Dracula vs Frankenstein." I saw that movie once--on "Creature Double Feature" when I was about 8. No clue why, but it's seared in my mind like no other horror film. Weird.
A bike gang looks to retrieve its leaders ex-old lady, now living on a commune. The hippies will do all they can to protect her, but do flower children stand a chance against psychotic bikers?
Members of the Death Row MC (who have a lame name and terrible colors) spot Kristy (Jess Walton), former old lady of their president, Rebel (Clint Ritchie). It turns out she's now living on a commune outside of town with her brother Jeff (Michael Ontkean, who reminds me of James Naughton). Clearly a follower/climber, Kristy, once an MC prez's girl, is now the main squeeze of the commune's leader, the Jesusish Alex (Paul Prokop). The bikers do not simply wish her well, pleased to see she's found happiness. The way they see things, you don't just walk away from the club; in a (pretty effectively shot) flashback, we learn that the last girl who tried to leave was gang raped. The gang beats info on Kristy's location out of a local general store owner, and sets out to reclaim what's theirs. The hippies give them little trouble.
Though she's terrorized for their entertainment, the bikers decide to hold off on raping her and merely stash her, and she of course escapes. Before she's home free, however, she's picked up by a rival gang, the (bi-racial) Branded Banshees. They decide to help her, though only because their leader, Black Widow (blaxploitation vet Lavelle Roby, who's great here), sees rescuing her as part of a revenge plot against the hated Rebel. Knowing Death Row will soon follow, they roar back to the commune to prepare for the coming showdown.
The cops have already been called to no avail, so the peaceniks reluctantly agree that they must put aside their pacifism to protect one of their own. They set about creating weapons and preparing for battle in a great montage (including "Braveheart" type pikes set up to pierce cycle tires--and peace signs sharpened into spear tips!). All, that is, except for violence-is-never-the-answer Alex, who wants no part of it; instead he does the walking around reflecting bit, to the strains of a terrible song called "White Dove." Death Row eventually arrives, and the showdown begins...
I'm not the spoiler type, so I'll say only that the violent climax does not disappoint.
Overall, a surprisingly good one, right from the very cool title card. Apart from two dreadful songs by apparent Grace Slick wannabe Ruthann Friedman, the soundtrack (by Kenneth Waneberg) is cool, with fuzz & jew's harp instros and the like. Most of the acting is non-cringeworthy, though the only background bikers that really stand out are Cowboy (John Raymond Taylor), the pervy Snatch (Nino Candito--what a cool name), and Banshee member Blackjack (Albert Popwell; if you've seen just about any '70s action movie, you've seen him as a pimp or petty criminal). It's a violent one, though not so much so that it's numbing, and while the story drags in places, it's coherent and well told. While having a stars & bars waving, grey cap wearing biker named Rebel's most hated enemy be a tough black woman is hardly subtle, the corny messages/statements aren't as hamfisted as you'd think, either.
I'd seen this one on trade lists over the years; having now seen it (on Netflix of all places), I'm kicking myself for not doing so sooner.
Out of five joints, this gets three plus a healthy sized roach.
