Thursday, August 20, 2009

MAD FOXES (1982)

80S ARTIFACTS UNCOVERED BY MOVIE: Vinyl crew jackets; the Parker Stevenson haircut; a white guy in an American flag keikogi; a white guy with nunchucks; and a white guy with the pastiest ass this side of Michael Douglas.

THE CARD:

Himmler’s Hooligans; Mama Celeste doing the Hoochie-Coochie; Fishin’ for Girl Ketchup; full frontal hilarity; 80s Corvette 1, Dirty Punks 0; humping in pee water; castration by grenade; Nazi chic; and lesson learned from movie: gardening shears are not a snack!

More details here.

THE ANGLE:

Hal Martin (Robert O'Neil) makes out with his virginal babe in his fancy racing-striped Stingray. A biker gang pulls up aside and starts harassing the couple. As he’s trying to pull away from the gang, he accidentally causes one of their members to rollover and die. Hal and his girl then dance the night away at a nightclub, but outside the vengeful bikers, led by balding scuzbag Stiletto (Eric Falk), are waiting for him. When Hal and his chick stumble drunkenly back to the Stingray, the gang jumps Hal and then rapes his girlfriend. Well, if by rape you mean flailing on top of the poor girl like a choking trout. Later, the bikers hold an impromptu funeral for their fallen scumbag.

After this movie, they might as well bury their careers too.

Stiletto toasts the dead unaware of the horror that awaits him.

After receiving treatment at the hospital, Hal, doing what any decent man would do after being forced to watch his girlfriend get raped, goes home and listens to some jazz records. And maybe later he’ll call his friend who owns a martial arts school – a bad ass named “Linus” - to form a posse to go after the bloodthirsty punks.

So they catch up with Stiletto and his gang at a Greek theater.

And they do something unspeakable to him. Think of the worst thing this picture suggests than multiply it by a billion.

Seemingly over the violation of his innocent girlfriend, his near-death experience, and his responsibility of a man’s mutilation (which is illegal by the way), Hal heads for the countryside to relax at his folks’ place. Along the way he picks up a tramp named Lily and they hump awkwardly in a bathtub of dirty water, besides a dying tree, and in a stable of horse poo. Yup. So Stiletto and his men catch on to Hal’s baffling behavior, show up at his parents’ house and summarily wipe out his family, throat-stab the gardener, and impale the household staff. You know, they’re Mad Foxes, not Nice Foxes. So Hal finally grows a pair (which can’t be said for Stiletto, poor sap), grabs a shotgun, and starts Fox hunting season early. After his blood-drenched odyssey, Hal finally meets face-to-face with Stiletto in his apartment, but the newly soprano biker’s got a big surprise for him, which results in one of the most bizarre and unforgettable endings in sleazeball biker shotgun-revenge ass-boobie cinema history.

THE FINISHER:

Even as filmmaking became more technologically advanced, major studios died or were bought out, and the Hollywood movie machine churned out blockbuster after blockbuster, there was still a place for low-budget exploitation cinema in the 80s. Case in point is 1982’s Mad Foxes (aka Stingray 2) which rises from the murky depths of sleaze cinema like a greased-up googly-eyed orgy-guy Kraken. This vile biker-revenge movie shot in Spain and horribly dubbed features near X-rated nude scenes, extremely violent torture sequences, and more wieners than happy hour at Pink’s. I dare anyone to watch this thing the whole way through without an intense desire to want to boil the seediness clean from their pricked-up skin. The movie is sick, sadistic, immoral, and completely void of any redeeming value with an empty, soulless lack of competence or purpose. In other words, oh so wonderful. But it’s indeed icky, and sadly to admit, I’ve seen worse. Jeez, way worse. The movie’s quality and production values are piss-poor, but it is what it is and never strives to be more than sordid piece of dunder-headed exploitation. And you got to give it some credit for its self-aware sense of squalid integrity. Recommended to me by a bad cinema connoisseur of the highest order, Mad Foxes was everything I had hoped for - a dreary, inept, and depraved tale featuring insane bikers, crotchety old folks, Italian stereotypes, Nazi S&M hookers, and hysterical (and maybe intentional?) dubbed dialogue such as:

“Those bullets are tickling him to death.”

“You’ll like my family, though my Mother is an invalid. She fell from a horse and became paralytic.”

“What are your hobbies?” “Collecting pretty girls like you, but today I want to kill a bird.”

“Be careful my little rabbit!”

Words to live by.

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