Rollerpocalypse (sans bras)

1986 was a pretty amazing year. In a triumphant season of homeruns, rapping, and Ivory soap ads, the New York Mets won the World Series. A little animation studio named Pixar was formed. Halley’s Comet appeared for freezing cold East Coast early birds to view and Geraldo Rivera discovered the most anticipated bottle of moonshine ever.

And perhaps most importantly, a post-apocalyptic film about roller skating was made by Donald G. Hell Comes to Frogtown Jackson. 

Quick Plot: In the second dark age in the city of lost angels (according to the title cards), an all-female cult clad in red phallic headdresses protects a magical crystal from an evil luchador-esque masked (over a pink winter ski mask) man and his borscht belt comic hand puppet.

I know right? Been there, done that!

I should specify that the ‘cult’ I speak of is none other than the Cosmic Order of the Roller Blades, the self-proclaimed ‘only force on earth where all weapons and battle techniques are converted into tools of love.’ Because, you see, in the second dark age of humanity, the world has been overrun by folks on roller skates. Yes, four-wheeled skates, as the invention we now know as the ‘roller blade’ was still some years from widespread popularity. As my knowledge of things on wheels is composed entirely of what I’ve learned from the movies, we’ll assume the modern roller blade was born in 1991, since that’s when it appears in Silent Night Deadly Night 5: The Toymaker.

Back on track--or rink, roller pun zap!--the evil Dr. Saticoy and his puppet right-hand-man (literally) enlist the skills of a blond rollergirl to infiltrate the Roller Blades and steal the crystal. It’s a lot of work, considering he could probably have found an even nicer one in any 50 cent gum ball machine. Still, we don’t get to see a lot of roller nuns naked unless this plot unfolds, so unfold away, ye madness!

The good get a sapphic nude bathtub baptism; the bad get a sapphic nude wrestling match. All speak with the occasional sprinkling of ye olde English and sport hip high wedgie-making undies. None wear bras.

Seriously, for any modern woman who enjoys comfort, this IS the dark ages.

Roller Blade, as you might now realize, is not the easiest film to recap in terms of what you commonly call ‘story.’ I think there was one, as evidenced by the important subplot of the Roller Marshall (you read that right)’s son being kidnapped by the bad guy. There’s the matter of the crystal, which will bring about an even darker age (maybe?) where I can only assume roller skates are replaced by something even more nefarious, like unicycles or pogo sticks or that impossible ‘80s toy that looked like Saturn and was designed for you to stand around a bouncing ball and not break your ankle. Primarily, there are a lot of boobs and an almost comparable amount of camel toe.

That’s about as ringing an endorsement as I can make for Roller Blade. It’s as ridiculous and insane as its cover art suggests, plus a little more. By a little, I mean the mother superior of the Cosmic Order of the Roller Blades is a wheelchair bound woman named Mother Speed who laments about the olden days, “when we skated for fun. Now we skate or die.” This is a heartfelt memory, and kind of all you need to know in order to judge whether Roller Blade will rock your world.

High Points

You can’t argue with the imagination of the film, right?

Low Points

I know this is besides the point, but I find it pretty impossible to believe that some of those roller superstar females would go bralass based on their bust size. There is back pain to consider folks!

Lessons Learned

Recycled Saticoy brand batteries have very short lifespans

Tears will cause thy wheels to rust

If one can only venture outside on roller skates, it’s probably a good idea to learn how to, you know, roller skate when as soon as you’re able to walk

Skin-melting acid will not harm your body if you immediately remove all clothing as soon as it touches you

The future will mean the rise of mohawks and death to bras

Rent/Bury/Buy

I scored my copy of Roller Blades at last year’s Chiller Theater convention along with the new Doll’s House classic The Refrigerator and the soon-to-be-watched Slashdance. It’s a VHS transfer, and one that you can probably find lurking on youtube or at your local gray market dealer. It’s pure 80s cheese in the most delightfully ridiculous of ways. The film won’t change your life like, say, The Stabilizer, but it will most definitely entertain your pals at the local roller rink!

Modern Art Is Soooooo Subjective

If movies have taught me anything, it’s that the future is a world I never want to live in. No amount of Wild Stallions or Jetsons-like housekeeping could make me wish myself into a land rife with infertility, leather, nuclear fallout, totalitarianism, android bounty hunters, and more than one scenario wherein Kevin Costner is the messiah. Sure, it can be argued that the better time leaping movies are actually commenting on today’s society, but that still doesn’t mean I’m jumping on a hoverboard any time soon.

Richard Stanley’s 1990 dystopian techno thriller Hardware does little to change my views on the future....which I’m now apparently living in. This recently reissued film borrows a little inspiration from The Terminator, Soylent Green, Z.P.G., and a few other post apocalyptic films of the past, capturing a striking mix of 70s hard edged 70s cinema and 80s action to be its own interesting, if highly imperfect slice of metallic sci-fi.

Quick Plot: It’s the 21st century from a 20th century point of view, meaning the world is a sizzling desert filled with robot rubble, red skies, and intrepid little people. Iggy Pop’s DJ voice informs us that the government is set to pass a proposal to control the population by sterilizing anybody found reproducing, as resources are scarce and radiation is high. It’s an ugly world bathed entirely in an orange fuzz that burns straight through the camera lens.

A lonely and haunting opening follows a ragged gas-masked scavenger searching a wasteland for any goods to sell. He comes upon a few pieces of MARK 13, a failed cyborg experiment worth its weight in trading. Our nameless traveller brings his haul to a tech savvy junk trader named Alvy (Willow’s Mark Northover) and sells what looks like the head of C3P0's rebellious older brother to Mo, a roving soldier played by Dylan McDermott. Mo in turn presents it to his artist girlfriend Jill (Stacy Travis) for a Christmas/sorry-I’m-never-here gift. She’s elated because it’s just what she needs to complete her latest piece (after a hip dose of spray paint that would have gone perfectly with a kicking pair of American flag Converse, of course).

As you might imagine, MARK-13 ain’t WALL-E. Once Mo slips out of the room and Jill falls asleep (irresponsibly with a joint in hand, mind you) the wiry widget juices himself up with the apartment power grid and assembles himself into a homicidal little machine using other electronics in reach. As if that wasn’t enough to make for the worst yuletide ever, Jill’s foul-mouthed voyeur of a neighbor (who resembles what would happen if Jon Lovitz ate John Favreau and washed him down with popcorn butter) forces his way into her hallway with the automatic door sealing tightly behind him.

Hardware is an odd film, and not just because it is blatantly stylized with quick edits, robot vision, and a colored lens. Filmmaker Richard Stanley seemed to put a lot of thought and energy in establishing this post nuclear holocaust society, sprinkling in television commercials and window views that drop eerie hints about just devastated the world has become. Some of Mo’s conversations with Alvy and his friend Shades about how the radiation has affected them are truly haunting in a perfectly post apocalyptic way, and the background politics of sterilization, government assisted living, and drug use could easily have been the central device of their own feature length films. Great care was clearly taken with painting the sky such a rusted hue and yet, Hardware chooses a very different path for its 93 minute runtime.

What I didn’t like about Stanley’s film was, in a word, its plot. We’re presented with this dying society rife with political implications, but Hardware chooses instead to focus on the loud and clunky events of this one apartment. The bulk of the film features Jill’s struggle to evade MARK 13, who I like to think of as what would happen if Robocop’s son was a 15 year old punk hanging out with the wrong crowd. It’s action packed and has a few big payoff moments, but there’s something so limited about Hardware’s second half that can’t help but let down the sprawlingly dystopian setup. 

High Points

William Hootkins supporting role as a foul peeping tom adds a sick but highly engaging touch of oddness to the film


From the casual talk about cancer to the snippets of radio and television ads for radiation-free produce, the environmental and societal breakdown of Hardware is sufficiently disturbing

The wordless opening scene that follows a nomadic junk trader through a dusty red desert is breathtaking

Low Points

For a film with such a carefully envisioned dystopian scope, the limits of one evil robot encounter can’t help but feel like a letdown

It’s a style choice and for the most part, a very strong one but still: so much flashing lights can give even a healthy young woman one mean headache 

Things We Can Expect Sometime In the 21st Century

A completely sealed apartment with occasional bursts of open door radiation will do incredible things for your naturally curly hair

GWAR’s popularity will soar

Housing for those on welfare will be spacious, offer great views, and have a steady supply of running water

Newscasters will style themselves like 1970s era of anchormen

Thankfully, radiation-free reindeer steak will be available for the holiday season and advertised by the same commercial directors that filmed the final montage movie moments of Pee Wee’s Big Adventure

Robots will be homicidal and prudish

Rent/Bury/Buy

After nearly 19 years, Hardware has finally received a deluxe DVD release in a 2 disc set loaded with extras. I, however, purchased my copy several months ago from Cinema De Bizarre , a fantastic service with great deals on hard-to-find flicks. On that hand, I can’t really tell you if the DVD is worth an investment but if it sounds interesting to you and you find it well priced, it’s a leap worth taking. I can imagine the extras being somehow more fascinating than the finished product simply because Stanley seems to be a unique artist with a whole lot of dramatic ideas that probably didn’t make the 90 minute cut. I didn’t love Hardware, but it’s a neat little picture stuffed with innovative ideas and a distinct visual style.

Repo! The Aggressive Opera!

As a firm believer in organ donation, a lifetime lover of musicals, a proud owner of Buffy the Vampire Slayer: Seasons 2-7 (because I refused to pay the same price for the shortest season, even if i did get all the others at a bargain price of $16.99), and, in case you haven't guessed it, a fairly enthusiastic fan of horror, the concept of Repo! was almost too good to be true:

Quick Plot: In the near dystopian future, the demand for fresh body parts has grown so large that a corporation has started a megamillion financing company to pay for those transplants with very steep interest rates. Paul Sorvino and Sarah Brightman lend operatic cred, Anthony Stewart Head provides the eye and soulful voice candy, and the director of Saw 2 tosses in all the leftover bits from Tobin Bell’s autopsy. The casting of Paris Hilton was almost a relief; nothing could be perfect.

And Repo! isn't. But I still love it.

Maybe you will. Maybe you won't. This could be the dictionary definition of a polarizing film because there's no way to enjoy it if you can't get past its rock opera-iness. Or the ridiculous plot, brain squishing, grave robbing, Spy Kids alum, and Bill Mosely’s dance moves. Anybody that says they hated this film, I can't argue. It's loud and crass, messy and cheap, over-the-top and proud of itself. But c’mon: there’s an exclamation point in the title with no real logic (Repo! The Genetic Opera makes me want to rename some past titles like Pinball! The Who’s Tommy, Barber! Sweeney Todd’s Victorian Tale and fix Broadway’s Spring Awakening to Fuck! The Teen Sex Musical). I normally don’t approve of aggressive grammar, but this one just tries so hard and hey, maybe it’s an homage to past musicals of yore like Oklahoma! and Oliver!

High Points:
Sarah Brightman has always been a kind of dark-haired step-child of the theater world, but she is right at home in the world of this film, with an incredibly haunting voice and gorgeous look.

Picture the Nixon mask Patrick Swayze wore in the opening scene of Point Break. Now cut out the mouth and listen to it sing with a wacky and foppish Italian accent. That’s Ogre’s Gabi, and it’s kind of a beautiful and horrifying thing.

Seeing Anthony Stewart Head singing and in black leather is sort of like fan fiction wish fulfillment pornography for the Buffyverse...and there's absolutely nothing wrong with that

Low points
Of all the musical lines this film, the single one I can’t get out of my head is Bill Mosely's “I will find a hole and fuck it.” That’s a tad inconvenient in real life.

Lessons Learned:
The near future will kind of suck, but at least opera will make a comeback

Much like today, the lending crisis will yield some rather serious consequences for the general public, with dismemberment and gutting replacing foreclosure and bankruptcy.


It is possible for goth guys to be kinda hot, providing they have rich singing voices

Rent/Buy/Bury
Buy it, if nothing else, to send a message to studios that horror fans crave and will accept something different. As much as I'm giddily counting the days left to see Jason’s rebirth*, I would much rather get a Repo! cycle or surge in crossover genre experiments than another 12 films with the same story and stock characters for the next 12 years. If people complain that Saw is the same recycled garbage Halloween after Halloween then those folks need to prove that they want and will pay for something else.


*Generally, my opinion on remakes is one of disdain and annoyance, but the Friday the 13th series has never actually been good (despite the softest of spots I hold in my heart for Part 8, where Jason takes over a Canadian New York City) so as far as “reimagining” goes, I say go for it. It can’t be worse than Part 5, and maybe 12 times is the charm.