Memorial Day Movie Mega-Marathon 2022!

In which I watched six random ass movies from the 1980s, for no discernible reason whatsoever

By: Toxicka Shock

ToxickaShock@gmail.com

Twitter: @ToxickaShock

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The eighties.

By all objective measurements, the decade fuckin’ sucked big time. AIDS, recessions, stagnant wages, terorrism, nuclear accidents, industrial chemical spills, postal worker shooting rampages, trade imbalances, deficit spending en masse … and we haven’t even gotten around to kitsch like Falco and “The Powers of Matthew Star,” for chrissakes.

But as horrible as real life may have been, at least the cinematic output from the era of excess was pretty damn solid. And all these decades later, even the movies from the epoch that sucked have developed a sort of nostalgic charm to them, no matter how misplaced and unwarranted.

The movies might be homophobic and casually racist and misogynistic and full of post-Carter conservative rancor and rhetoric, but there’s this weirdly comforting naivety to it. As in, you can’t help but go back and watch the movies and revel in their misguided ignorance, their unrealistically reductionistic worldviews and totally glib hypocrisy regarding fuckin’ everything.

In other words, a lot of them are just too stupid to be offensive. No matter how you dissect/deconstruct/discard them, the movies are just damn entertaining, and you’d have to have starch in your bloodstream to not get at least a modicum of enjoyment out of them.

That, and the array of films that came out in the 1980s — regardless of the genre or budget — are far more diverse and robust than most critics (read: assholes on the internet) give them credit for. Take the following six offerings as case studies — in their own special ways, they demonstrate *everything* that made the 1980s such a wondrous time to be a filmgoer.

Even if, in some cases, the people behind them had NO idea that’s what they’re doing.

No, it's not a prequel to "teen Wolf," Sadly.

On The Right Path

Lee Phillips | 1981

The first — and only — vehicle for “Diff’rent Strokes” star Gary Coleman. And that’s a shame really, because this movie isn’t that bad. Or, at least, as bad as you might expect.

If we’re using real world logic, the premise for the movie is pretty damn off-putting. Coleman — who I’m pretty sure was like 35 when filming started — plays a homeless child who sleeps in a literal foot locker in Chicago. So it’s bound to be a depressing commentary on the plight of impoverished inner-city minorities, right? WRONG. Instead, it’s a whimsical fantasy-comedy in which our pint-sized protagonist ends up winning the favor of the mayor because he has an extraordinary knack for picking the winners of horse races.

Of course, THERE has to be a romantic subplot in there somewhere. In this flick, it involves a jaded/incompetent child services worker and this one wannabe singer who makes change at the local arcade for a living. You already know they’re going to adopt Coleman at the end of the movie, so hooray for white saviors and shit.

Coleman, though, does a pretty good job of carrying the movie. His best bits are when he doles out double entendres about sexual paraphilias, even though he doesn’t seem to understand what he’s talking about (Willis.) Case in point? In one scene he makes a bawdy pun about “neck-rophilia.” You know, exactly the kind of sly corpse-fucking references you’d WANT in a PG-rated kids’ flick.

BEST LINE: “Yeah, I know what that is. It’s having sex without all the fun.” — Gary Coleman on in-vitro fertilization.

NOSTALGIA FACTOR: 8/10 — not only does a class pinball table-laden arcade serve as a crucial plot device, damn near one-fifth of the entire movie takes place inside a Shakey’s Pizza joint.

OBJECTIVE RATING: ⭐⭐ ½ out of ⭐⭐⭐⭐

Yeah, that's totally a futuristic space colony and not a high school locker room.

Shocking Dark

Bruno Mattei | 1989

I’ve heard a lot of shit about this movie over the years, and it *did not* disappoint. Don’t get me wrong, this is an absolutely god-awful piece of shit, but it’s an AMAZING god-awful piece of shit. 

For starters, the film was actually marketed as “The Terminator 2” a good two years before the *actual* James Cameron sequel was released. And despite that lawsuit-baiting alternate title, “Shocking Dark” is really more of a ripoff of “Aliens” than anything else.

And when I say it’s a ripoff of “Aliens,” I mean it’s damn near a scene-by-scene de-make. Of course, the producers couldn’t afford the grandiose sets and props, so instead of Ripley in a Power Loader we’ve got split-second shots of rubber Man-Thing monsters with fake cobwebs tossed all over them. There’s imitations of Vazquez, Burke, Bishop and Newt — played by a German actress who I can’t tell if she’s 12 or 28 — and yes, a very, very poor man’s Arnold does make his presence felt in the third act. So this thing really IS “We have ‘Aliens’ at Home, and also, the last 20 minutes of ‘The Terminator’ at Home, too.”

Toss in all of the politically incorrect dialogue — the macho male Italian space marine wannabe and the even more macho female Black space marine wannabe, in particular, trade some memorable barbs with one another — and you’ve got a movie that’s nothing short of a masterpiece of suck. This thing is fuckin’ terrible and you need to see it.

BEST LINE: “This is Sam Fuller from the Tubular Corporation.” — Sam Fuller, letting you know he’s Sam Fuller and that he’s from the Tubular Corporation.

NOSTALGIA FACTOR: 2/10 — pretty low. Outside of reminding you of ‘80s movies that are actually good, it doesn’t have much of an eighties-ephemera vibe at all. 

OBJECTIVE RATING: ⭐ ½ out of ⭐⭐⭐⭐

this really isn't emblematic of the film as a whole ... But in a way, it kinda' is, anyway.

Polyester

John Waters | 1981

If you’re looking for the bridge between “Pink Flamingos” and “Hairspray,” here it is. John Waters’ subversive deconstruction/indictment of 1950s nostalgia (at a time when Eisenhower-era nostalgia was at its apex) is edgy enough to appease the arthouse crowd but still polished enough to have modest appeal to “mainstream” moviegoers.

Divine absolutely *rules the world* in this movie. It takes an incredibly talented actress to imbue so much genuine pathos into a screwball satire, and she’s able to portray the sore-luck saddled Francine Fishpaw with *just enough” genuine emotion to make her plight pitiable even IF the film is a whole is basically a Marx Brothers flick with references to huffing solvents and teenage abortions.

It’s kind of a shame most people only remember “Polyester” for its scratch-and-sniff-card gimmick when it was originally released in theaters, because this is a downright fantastic movie. With subplots about foot-stomping juvenile delinquents and porno theater protestors and drive-in theaters with built-in haute cuisine restaurants and the healing power of macrame art, it’s early ‘80s anarcho-comedy at its finest.

There are a lot of movies that examine the seedier side of supposedly happy suburban households, and “Polyester” somehow manages to work as both a hilarious subgenre parody AND a standalone character dissection. Irreverent socioculturally-cognizant pasquinades of the like are rarely done this well — indeed, it might be the best overall work in the entire Waters’ canon. And if it isn’t, it’s certainly the most representative of the beloved Baltimorian auteur’s oeuvre.

BEST LINE: “Don’t you know it’s bad luck to let retards in your home?” — Lu-Lu Fishpaw on her houseguest policies.

NOSTALGIA FACTOR: 0/10 — this is one of the most timeless-feeling movies I’ve ever watched. It may have been made in the 1980s, but it certainly FEELS like it could’ve been made in the ‘70s, or the ‘90s or even the 2000s.

OBJECTIVE RATING:  ⭐⭐⭐ ½ out of ⭐⭐⭐⭐

nothing heals a wounded country quite like re-invading vietnam.

Rambo: First Blood Part II

George P. Cosmotos | 1985

The first “Rambo” movie was about police brutality and maltreatment of Vietnam War veterans. Then Reagan got re-elected and Sly Stallone said “fuck that” and went full right-wing mass murder fantasy on us. 

That said, as far as 1980s right-wing murder fantasies go, this one isn’t AS eggregious as some of its contemporaries. I mean, “Delta Force” was LITERALLY neocon Zionist propaganda meant to stoke U.S. military interventions against the PLO, so the bar’s raised REALLY fuckin’ high right there.

The movie was written by Stallone and James Camerson, and based on the dialogue alone I’d venture to guess that Sylvester was responsible for about 95% of the screenplay. When his Department of Defense handlers tell him he’s headed back to ‘Nam to rescue some hostages who have been stuck in bamboo cages since the Tet Offensive, Johnny Rambo looks right at the camera and drolly quips “Sir, are we allowed to win this time?” Real subtle, I know.

You know what to expect here. A roided out Rambo falls in love with a Vietnamese freedom fighter who speaks in broken English, then he picks up a bow and arrow with napalm tips and has to eviscerate a couple of communists before they export trade unions to the “free world.” Since it’s a movie made in the 1980s, of course the Russians are in cahoots with the Vietnamese and the whole thing ends with Frank Stallone singing a schmaltzy pro-American pop ballad so paint-by-numbers, you can almost smell the “Made in China” sticker on it. If you thought “Red Dawn” was a little bit too reserved in its message, you’ll probably love the shit out of this fucker.

BEST LINE: “Sometimes to win a war, you have to BECOME a war.” — one of John Rambo’s many witticisms/GOP talking points.

NOSTALGIA FACTOR: 8/10 — it’s a movie dripping with anti-Soviet paranoia that pushes the great Republican “prisoner of war” mythology AND it has wildly inappropriate product placement for Coca-Cola throughout it. Now that’s totally fuckin’ eighties.

OBJECTIVE RATING: ⭐⭐ out of ⭐⭐⭐⭐

honestly, this hairdo wasn't that fashionable even *in* 1988.

Talk Radio

Oliver Stone | 1988

Now here’s a movie that deserves WAY more attention and appreciation. Eric Bosogian plays Barry Champlain, a Texas shock jock modeled after Alan Berg —  and if you don’t know WHO Alan Berg is, whatever you do don’t Wikipedia him unless you want the end of this movie instantly spoiled for you.

Long story short, the “hero” of this movie is a thoroughly unlikable asshole, but over the course of the film he becomes an oddly *relatable* asshole. It’s kind of a mixture of “Private Parts” and “Glengarry Glen Ross” at times, and not just because Alec Baldwin plays a pivotal role in the supporting cast and Bosogian rocks the classic Howard Stern “Jewfro” coif for the entirety of the motion picture.

It’s hard to get into the minutiae of the film, because so many small plot points will totally lead you into full-on spoilerization territory. By and large, the bulk of the movie plays out over one radio broadcast, with Bosognian’s character getting assailed by idle chatter from old ladies, crank calls about heroin overdoses and virulent antisemitism from listeners who extol the virtues of “The Turner Diaries” on-air.

Special recognition HAS to be given to Michael Wincott, who plays a stereotypical heavy metal stoner-type who drops references to Megadeth songs during debates about geopolitics. Even if you’re not a fan of Oliver Stone, this is a great existentialist movie that doesn’t even try to give the audience any comforting or reassuring answers. It’s a depressing movie, but at least it’s depressing for all the right reasons.

BEST LINE: “There’s nothing more boring than people who love you” — Barry Champlain summing up his weltanschauung.

NOSTALGIA FACTOR: 7/10 — this movie definitely feels late eighties as fuck. It may not have all the aesthetics, but it captures the ideological zeitgeist of late Reaganism perfectly.

OBJECTIVE RATING: ⭐⭐⭐ out of ⭐⭐⭐⭐

i'm pretty sure the people behind "RAD" had no idea they invented the transgender pride flag.

Rad

Hal Needham | 1986

From the same guy who brought us “Smokey and the Bandit,” it’s the most 1980s fuckin’ movie ever — and considering the same director also made “Megaforce” and “Body Slam,” that’s saying something.

If you’re going to have an eighties-centric movie marathon, THIS is the flick to go out on. I’m not saying it’s the best movie to come out of the decade (get fuckin’ real, will ya?), but it’s certainly a movie that — for better or for worse — epitomizes everything that made the ‘80s, well, so goddamn ‘80s.

A shameless attempt to cash in on the mid-decade BMX craze, “Rad” is a product-placement strewn cornball-a-rama complete with a premise so eighties, it literally fuckin’ hurts — the protagonist’s mother wants our hero to go to college and make something out of himself, but all he wants to do is conquer the HELLTRACK bicycle course and claim a $100,000 prize. Naturally, the filmmakers want you to root for the kid, even though his mom is 115% right about everything. 

This movie is more quintessentially eighties than Max Headroom freebasing crack cocaine. The synthy love ballad-laden soundtrack. The gratuitous use of slow-motion. The impossibly contradictory message that’s vehemently pro-capitalism yet anti-big business. For fuck’s sake, this movie even contains a full-on dance sequence ON bikes. Only one decade could’ve produced something like this — and that’s reason enough to carry around a perpetual hard-on for ‘80s nostalgia, no matter how injudicious. 

BEST LINE: “The world would be a lot better off without kids” — Ray Walston, taking boomerism to lofty new heights.

NOSTALGIA FACTOR: 11/10 — the brazen product placement for 7-Eleven, close-up shots of old-school Kix cereal boxes, “Send Me An Angel” by Real Life, hell, even the requisite love interest is played by Lori Loughlin. The only thing that’s missing is a subplot about a Rubik's Cube and a cameo from Mr. T.

OBJECTIVE RATING: ⭐⭐ ½ out of ⭐⭐⭐⭐

XOXO, Toxicka