Rampant Sex and Drug Use -- Why the Movies Aren't Like They Used to Be

If there's one thing I love more than exploitation movies, it's books about them.  Sleazoid Express is one of those that is about those movies as much as it is about the experience of watching them in New York City's Times Square ... before it got all gussied up for the dance.  Bill Landis and Michelle Clifford have penned a love letter to a bygone era, a time where going to the movies meant taking your life in your hands.  Rampant sex with other movie goers and prostitutes, robberies, drug use, criminals fleeing the police.  I wish the movies were that fun now.  (And let's face it, if you are dumb enough to see something like Transformers you need to get robbed again.)

Fans of exploitation films may be a bit upset over the actual film coverage.  Divided into sections, the book only gives an overview of some the examples from each genre.  One or two movies in each is delved into in detail, and there is much hate doled out for some of the shining examples of exploitation (such as Cannibal Holocaust).  What is left, however, are some fascinating tales of the theatres and the people who made them and starred in them.  Other books may have covered the latter, but few have actually covered the theatres, delving into urine-soaked bathrooms where people can be found shooting up; or even going into the mazes that sometimes connected one theatre to another, the hallways of which became predator playgrounds with woe being visited upon anyone stupid enough to make their way through them too slowly.

If anything, Sleazoid Express is a historical look at a place and era that cannot be replicated in any kind of meaningful scale.  Some may try, but the Times Square of that time period was shaped by the people around it, who were shaped by the events they lived through.  The films were just as dangerous, products of addled minds and the belief that doors to cinema were wide open.  It was a time where anything could happen in film ... and did.  We have lost that.  Brilliantly psychotic filmmakers are now relegated to DVDs, which can be viewed in the safety of one's home.  Hardcore porn no longer plays en masse in the "bad" section of town.  Double features are as rare as original ideas.  Reading the book doesn't fill me with nostalgia.  It fills me with sadness.  That environment will never exist again, and I can't help but think that not only is current cinema all the worst for it, but so is the future of film. 


Mandatory FTC Disclaimer: I paid for this book, and if you click on the link to order it I may earn a commission.

Sex! And Violence!

No, it's not a play on the Exploited song.  It is what I spent last night doing ... after completing the first chapter of my online driving test I have to take to keep my insurance rates from skyrocketing.

Flesh and Blood Compendium is the "best of the first 10 years" of Flesh and Blood magazine.  I'll let the book cover describe the wonders within.  "Sex & horror film reviews, articles & interviews ... the cult magazine that boldly strode into the dark heart of the exploitation film jungle."  I couldn't have said it better myself, and like most FAB Press books, it's huge and filled with wonderful photos.

I started reading it a few days ago.  It opens with a piece on the crap that is Scream by Stephen Thrower, who is always fun to read.  And while I started to read it, I really didn't get a chance to dive into it until late last night.  After finishing a few of the pieces (including a fascinating one on how Britain goes about legislating its adult videos) I found that I couldn't sleep.  I wasn't terrified of what I read (or even aroused -- thanks, Elizabeth Tessier).  I wanted to read more.  I wanted to see what was next.  Every essay was like opening a treasure chest of information.  Unfortunately, I had to sleep at some point, so it was with great reluctance that I put it down.  Damn you, editor Harvey Fenton.  Damn you.

I haven't finished it yet (I have quite a ways to go), so I can't officially recommend this tome, but ... if you are already familiar with Flesh and Blood, FAB Press, Harvey Fenton and the likes of Stephen Thrower and you haven't read this -- you know you need to.  You know you won't be disappointed.  (Conversely, some of the reviews I read on Amazon show nothing but disappointment.  These "critics" also didn't seem to know what they were reviewing, with one writer saying he thought this was a "best of" the magazine's first ten issues.  The cover, if one pays attention, tells the reader it is the best of the first ten years.  It was not a monthly magazine.  Obviously, the Amazon reviews should be taken with a grain of salt and given as little attention as these reviewers gave the book they "read.")

If this turns out to be a colossal bomb, I will of course revisit this, but I've never been disappointed with anything from FAB Press ... ever.  Even at its worst, it's still heads and breasts above most other publishers of film books.


Mandatory FTC Disclaimer:  I did not receive this to review.  I bought it, and you should, too.  If you click on a link, I may earn a commission.

Dark Gloves, Bleeding Hearts

Art of Darkness: The Cinema of Dario Argento is one of those books you have to have if you are an Argento fan. I have the oversized softcover, which is overflowing with beautiful color pictures and examinations of the man and his movies. I reviewed it on Amazon a couple of years ago, and I stick by that review. It's not light reading, and it's not meant for the casual Argento fan.

Film books are a bit hit and miss with me. I have a section of my library devoted to them, but I'm fairly picky about what I keep. I'll read just about any one, but if I don't think I'll reference it or read it again, I put it on eBay. I've never put a FAB Press book up for auction, and don't think I ever will. Art of Darkness is why.

When you read this book (and most of the FAB books are much the same in this regard), you don't just read about the films being covered. You relive them. You see them in a brand new light. You learn things, and those newly discovered tidbits make you want to go out and see the movies all over again. And this time you will view them with new, but educated eyes. Few film books can do that. FAB books almost always do.

I can't recommend these tomes enough to fans of cinema. The price and depth of the books means you have to enjoy the director or films being covered, but if you do you will get your money's worth and then some. More importantly, you'll get an education on par with a college course.