movies

STEELYARD BLUES

Directed by Alan Myerson

(Warner Brothers)

Biz-arre!

First off, it may be a good idea to explain what scatterbrained plot there is to Steelyard Blues. The title is what it implies — a worker’s wail. Here goes: there are five characters working together at pulling a delapidated plane into shape “to go where there are no jails.” The bird, “Old Toledo,” is the temporary home of one of them, a wiry, articulate tuba player; another is Iris, the police department’s favorite whore; the main man, Veldini, is a demolition derbyite turned zoo-shit cleaner thanks to his politician/brother who is also his parole officer; Eagle is Marlon Brando, an ambulance driver, hangman, pilot but mostly ex-institutionalized and lastly, a youthful, guitartwanging electrician turned artful dodging pickpocket, aptly named The Kid.

This may seem like just another nutsy nonsense movie butconsidering the cast — Donald Sutherland, Jane Fonda, Peter (Joe and The Candidate) Boyle — you know better. Alas, it’s really smart slapstick! These radical weirdos have attempted to hide the political jazz. If you look hard and fast between the jail cell bars “FREE ALL POLITICAL PRISONERS” can be seen, graffltied on the wall. And only upon close examination and deep thinking does the sociological insinuation slap you in the face. The movie is made of subtle stuff in that area, but it’s real heavy in the laugh department.

To give you a taste, things like this happen: The end (beans, which, of course, shouldn’t be spilled) — the man-eating plane about to take off down the runaway to the Promised Land is met by 25 squad cars. In the other direction, folks, gallops Eagle, the savior bandit (this time) with four horses for the gang escaping the posse. The troupe rides off through a wheatfield in a barrage of gunfire. Or how about the scene in which Sutherland, gone totally wild, smashes an ambulance (stolen) into a 50 Studebaker, thereby having wrecked every car produced from 1940 to 1960. No small feat. Next, he says, he’ll attack trucks, tractors and mobile homes.

The most hilarious lines are actually written self-consciously, the action is often pretentious and even the closeknit group seem untight, relationships are supercilious, which in this case just means that emotions aren’t pandered to. The acting/directing is so superb the antics are not only believable but demand sympathy for their plight, hoping for the flight.

The most profound lines, from Sutherland to Fonda: “I’m not a criminal, I’m an outlaw.” “What’s the difference?” “I don’t know.” But there is a difference, a thin line, perhaps, but a crucial one. For instance, dope smokers are outlaws, but not criminals. Wouldn’t you agree? That shot is the crux of this movie. Right when the righteous rhetoric or pedantic blatherings could start, it stops short, cuts to another locale, or a gag line appears. Sometimes all three.

Steelyard Blues can be interpreted as an absurd comedy with political undertones, the same way Klute worked as both a murder mystery and a social/political movie. Don’t most comedies work that way, though? The most tragic situations are usually found covered in comic relief.

After watching Truman Capote’s On Location in Attica, the ex-con’s problems seem more vivid, as vivid as the con’s hell, the pre-con’s pressures. In Steelyard, that idea equals there’s no room for weirdo misfits. There are other implications thorughout the film but they’re not worthy of amplification because I don’t think they carried the movie. I recommend Steelyard just for the incredible, eccentric fun it possesses.

Robbie Cruger

THE EROTIC ADVENTURES OF ZORRO

Entertainment Ventures

(An Atlas Film)

I know we just got done telling you guys about Santa Claus, the Easter Bunny and Howard Cosell, and it is a bit early to hit you with another harsh fact of life, but Zorro isn’t a virgin! Go ahead, sit down for a minute. Yup, the debauched Don Diego has a sex life. In fact he spills all the refried beans in The Erotic Adventures of Zorro (rated Z!).

Now don’t get the idea that your old amigo Zorro doesn’t uphold justice and fair play anymore. He just gets some nights off, to get his rocks off doing all the things Uncle Disney never told you about.

Don Diego (aka Zorro) picked up some pretty slick swordsmanship in Spain. He really learned how to swang that thang, and was top of the pops at the Famous Swordsmen School. He probably woulda graduated summa cum laude, but old Daddy Diego asked him to return to. Los Angeles (California) and help him clean up the joint.

Seems Luis Donsario (an oozy taco magnet who uncannily resembles Caesar Romero) and Captain Esteban (a kinky bandito with a foot fucking fetish) have taken over the Sunset Strip from the elder Diego. These two desperados and their compadres are terrorizing the local peons. Imagine those poor voluptuous virgins having to work-off Daddy’s tax debts — horrible! But don’t despair, Don Diego just blew into town to restore peace and tranquility to the City of the Angels. Our hero has a plan he dragged right out of the closet. O Sodomio! Drag by day, black leather by night.

Young Diego pays a call on Donsario and Esteban, sporting a lace parasol “to shield one from the burning rays of the sun. Complexion you know.” Our imposter makes the eyes at Esteban, coming on to the captain to ensure his ruse. But old Donsario also has a plan: since the Diego family are top dogs in Southern Cal, why not marry off his lovely niece Maria to this foreign faggot? Since Diego has such peculiar proclivities, there’ll be plenty of action left over for Esteban, who’s had the drools for Maria since she was 11 With this plan in mind, Donsario invites Don D over for dinner to propose the union; Esteban mutters, “Who is he going to eat?”

Out of the night

When the moon is bright

Rides a horseman known as Zorrol

(Swish, swish swish)

(That’s his sword talkin’)

After freeing the hostage virgins from city hall and carving a neat Z in the sergeant’s lardy ass, Zorro hides out in the confession box at the mission. Coincidentally, lovely Maria is approaching the confessional. She tells the “padre” that she intends to become a nun. “What a waste!” exclaims the priest.

“But I thought this would please you, padre.”

“There are better ways to please me, my child ...”

Cut several minutes later to dinner at Donsario’s. Maria is appalled at the very idea of the gay caballero. I mean, she’s practically going steady with Zorro. “Do tell us of your gay life in Madrid,” she says.

Maria’s auntie prophesies: “Things are seldom what they seem.” After dinner, Auntie sneaks up to Maria’s room to clue her in on wifely duties. But this isn’t any Dear Abby; Auntie just wants a piece of the action. Maria timidly inquires if she’s sure it’s allright, and Auntie replies, “Try it, you’ll like it,” and proceeds to suck Maria’s luscious left tit.

But Auntie swings both ways. She’s made a date with the gamey groom. It doesn’t take long to coax Diego’s gonads into action and he bangs her a few times behind the mission. But now his secret’s out, and Zorro’s gotta work fast, so he sneaks up to Maria’s room, proposes to the little chili pepper and fumbles an embrace. When Zorro undresses, though, he takes it all off but.. .

“Why do you wear that mask and those stupid stockings and garters?” asks Maria.

“The man always wears a mask, stockings and garters in these movies.”

The next day the big Z makes short work of the wily Esteban. Quipping “One should make love, not war,” he whips out his blade (the steel one), pins Esteban in 15 seconds, and in « neat package deal demands the return of the city, the Peoples’ taxes and Maria.

Justice triumphs in the surging climax: Donsario returns to Spain to set up a Taco Bell franchise. Esteban manages a cock-fighting palace in Sausalito. Malria and Diego/Zorro buy a house in Sari Francisco and live happily ever after.

That’s the way the enchilada crumbles.

Jann Uhelszki

THE GETAWAY

Directed by Sam Peckinpah

■(National General)

I didn’t have very high expectations for The Getaway. Bad reviews everywhere, rumors that Steve McQueen had re-edited the film (true), the PG rating itself. But from the opening scenes — a fantastic sequence, blended with slow motion credits, which involves McQueen as an inmate of Huntsville (Ala.) Prison — it was pure Peckinpah.

Even Ali McGraw’s performance isn’t the disaster I’d anticipated. True, her voice is often inadequate and her range narrow, but she does carry some scenes. McGraw seems to lack the necessary presence to bring much sincerity to this reading (or any other).

The Getaway’s story is simply that of a couple — split by his imprisonment — and their reunion via bank robbery, which is pulled off under the auspices of the Texas big wheel (Ben Johnson) who manages McQueen’s parole. The Getaway ensues after Johnson!s murder and involves escape from the police and the remnants of Johnson’s gang.

I’ve often felt that Peckinpah’s most striking achievements come when the story and actors are subordinated to the camera, and his eyes. The battles of The Wild Bunch and Straw Dogs are cinema at its purest, letting images and action speak for themselves, creating the connotations and emotions which stir us.

The Getaway does not operate on the same level as Wild Bunch or Straw Dogs. It lacks a really compelling theme but many sequences are stunning, and it never lags. There are echoes of previous works; instead of the sleazy bounty hunters of The Wild Bunch or the drunken louts of Straw Dogs, we have the hired hoodlums of a Texas tycoon, carrying on in an unsublimated and grotesque world.

Aside from McGraw, I have nothing but praise for the acting. McQueen is tough, and A1 Letieri (who played Salazo in The Godfather) is honestly weird as a gang member who makes love to a willing wife (All in the Family’s Sally Struthers) in front of her terrified husband (Jack Dodson).

Lucien Ballard’s cinematography is beautiful, what’s left of Roger Spottiswoode’s edit delightful, Quincy Jones’ score unobtrusive.

The Getaway may be minor Peck-, inpah, but it is superior melodrama.

Donald Jennings