Videodrome :: Doctor Death (1989)

Doctor Death isn’t your typical Halloween fare. More sci-fi than horror, it’s a post-apocalyptic Super 8 film from 1989, made by a teenaged Webster Colcord and starring his friends and family. Featuring homemade special effects that would make Rick Baker or Tom Savini smile, the nuclear fallout has dissipated as our titular anti-hero cruises around in his tricked-out school bus, tossing chemical bombs out the window, terrorizing anyone (or anything — poor dog) unfortunate enough to cross his path.

Videodrome :: Deadlock (1970)

A mysterious longhaired man in a tattered suit is stumbling his way through a barren and blazing-hot landscape. He’s been shot in the arm. The sun is cooking him alive. In one hand is a gun, in the other is a metal suitcase. Inside the suitcase? A bunch of money and a vinyl record by the cosmic rock trailblazers CAN. This is the opening scene for 1970’s Deadlock, the second feature-length film by the underrated West German auteur Roland Klick, and a movie that not only features a soundtrack by CAN, but also manages to incorporate that music into its cryptic storyline.

Videodrome :: Jammin’ The Blues (1944)

Produced underneath the guidance of Verve Records founder, Norman Granz, Jammin’ The Blues was released on May 5th, 1944. Granz’s objective was to showcase the top jazz musicians of the day and shed light on the shifting musicality of the genre, which had begun transitioning away from the populous swing arrangements of big bands in favor of smaller groups experimenting with rhythm & blues and free form improvisations.

Videodrome :: Cold Eye | Helmut Newton & Jun Ropé

(Welcome to Videodrome. A recurring column plumbing the depths of vintage and contemporary cinema – from cult, exploitation, trash and grindhouse to sci-fi, horror, noir, documentary and beyond.)

In 1980, German-Australian photographer, Helmut Newton, partnered with Japanese fashion brand Jun Ropé to direct Cold Eye…offering a rare glimpse into an alternative reality where Newton transitions from photographer to director, producing orphic films that straddle the line between the worlds of Alain Resnais and Peter Greenaway.

Videodrome :: Straight to Hell (1987)

Using most of the standard yardsticks employed for cinematic evaluation, Straight to Hell isn’t a good movie. You could look at it as an indulgent, half-assed waste of time, money and talent — an excuse for a bunch of friends to hang out in Spain, drink wine and play cowboys and bandits. But if you tilt your head ever so slightly, you can also see this haphazard homage to spaghetti westerns as a gloriously bizarre, metatextual experiment wherein some of the greatest artists of the 1980s got together to make a DIY, punk rock movie about coffee, cigarettes and American intervention.

Videodrome :: Time Bandits

Videodrome. A recurring column plumbing the depths of vintage and contemporary cinema – from cult, exploitation, trash and grindhouse to sci-fi, horror, noir, documentary and beyond.

Now showing: Terry Gilliam’s 1981 fantasy-adventure Time Bandits — the first installment in his “Trilogy Of Imagination” series…

Videodrome :: Last Year At Marienbad

Welcome to Videodrome. A recurring column plumbing the depths of vintage and contemporary cinema – from cult, exploitation, trash and grindhouse to sci-fi, horror, noir, documentary and beyond.

Now showing: Last Year at Marienbad — a film without a home. It exists within a grey area of European cinema, which further complicates comparative analysis.

Videodrome :: Half-Cocked

Is anything more 90s than a movie where Tara Jane O’Neil plays the sister of Ian Svenonius, steals his van and equipment, goes on tour with her friends and learns how to be in a functioning indie rock band? Bear in mind, this movie features a Matador-released soundtrack that features the likes of Unwound, Slant 6, Versus, Smog, Kicking Giant, Codeine, Polvo, the list goes on. As you might guess, it’s not a big movie. It’s not a blockbuster. It’s Half-Cocked.

Videodrome :: Wild At Heart

Wild At Heart is a love story that barrels down a strange highway through the twisted modern world,” David Lynch said of his 1990 film. “There are very tender moments, and there are very violent moments. And then there’s confusion and despair, and then suddenly – you’re in love. There’s got to be room for all of these things…film, in my mind, should have contrast to it. It should have many different kinds of feelings all weaving their way throughout.”

Videodrome :: To Live And Die In L.A.

In an age of “one-click” accessibility to a plethora of media, it’s surprising that a film as salient as To Live and Die in L.A. is so difficult to find. While its current scarcity undoubtedly plays into the lore that surrounds it, To Live and Die in L.A. transcends the cult genre and revival house programming. It’s not only one of the most potent crime films ever made, but a unique time capsule of Los Angeles.

Videodrome :: Psychedelic Glue Sniffing Hillbillies

Four years before Harmony Korine’s seminal hilljack masterpiece “Gummo” would shock audiences across the world and rewrite the rules of independent cinema forever, an amateur auteur by the name of Craig Smith was exploring a very similar corner of the zeitgeist with his thirty-minute short film “Psychedelic Glue Sniffin’ Hillbillies.”