MEDIA COOL

MEDIA COOL

This month’s Media Cools were written by Bill Holdship, Cynthia Rose, Dave Segal and Richard C. Walls

THE I WAS A TEENAGE JUVENILE DELINQUENT ROCK 'N' ROLL HORROR BEACH PARTY MOVIE BOOK:

A COMPLETE GUIDE TO THE TEEN EXPLOITATION FILM, 1954-1969 by Alan Betrock (St. Martin’s Press)

When I was young, we had a teenaged aunt who lived with us. She listened to rock ’n’ roll, and she used to take my brother and I to the drive-in. No pretentions of high art here. Aunt Shari took us mostly to what Alan Betrock calls “the teen exploitation film” in this book: the Beach Party movies, the motorcycle gang flicks and the hippie/psychedelic drug/protest/rock ’n’ roll films. I wasn’t there for the ’50s prototypes—though I later caught some of them on the tube (Betrock correctly points out that Rebel Without A Cause was probably the granddaddy of ’em all)—but I occasionally feel real nostalgic for those ’60s summer nights when trash was Trash. This book will bring back some wonderful memories of dancing hot dogs and those great A.I.P. coming attractions: The Born Losers! The Trip!! Riot On Sunset Strip!!! Wild In The Streets!!!! WOW! And because it includes lots of original poster art (flashes of that concession stand in Michigan), this is a genuine sentimental keepsake. B.H.

THE HIP

by Fred Dellar, Brian Case & Roy Carr (Faber & Faber)

The Hip is a lavishly-illustrated, 140page homage to those “great ears, great eyes and greater instincts” which define the quality of its title. Of course, as the book’s first sentence cautiously points out, hipnitude is “hard to nail,” but Dellar, Case and Carr don’t hesitate to plunge into the fray of ’40s and ’50s style wars. Along the way they consider things like the Atomic bow-tie and the Be-bop goatee, the close-harmony combo and the classic chanteuse, the “sepia Sinatras” and the Method men of the silver screen. “Consider” may not be the right word: The Hip is a package which presupposes the attention span of a gnat in its reader. Most of its energies have gone into picture research—with truly stunning results. But the text which accompanies these jivin’ pages is cursory. And its relentless, florid hipsterism—a deluge of dependent clauses stuffed with adjectives and topped with puns of the “Tom Waits for no man,” ilk—magnifies the shortcomings rather than the felicities of the rock press. The good news is that there are numerous quirky facts and, though the subject sprawls, its time-lines are impeccable. Buy The Hip for its wonderful graphics and pix—including a cover shot of Chet Baker circa ’53 which resembles Matt Dillon. But don’t expect more than a taster to the mighty careers mentioned within. C.R.

HARRY AND THE HENDERSONS (Universal)

I thought I was going to hate this movie.

I was wrong. Almost a parody of Spielberg, Harry And The Hendersons does E. T. one better as far as I’m concerned by providing the audience with uproarious laugh after laugh. On the way home from a camping trip, the Henderson family accidentally hits the legendary “Bigfoot” with their car. Thinking the creature’s dead, they take it home—whereupon “Harry” revives, first terrorizing them, and then becoming the family pet. Subtle messages about hunting and the treatment of animals abound throughout the film. And Kevin Peter Hall is so wonderful as the lovable creature, he almost makes you wish you had a “Bigfoot” of your own. It sounds corny, I know (and it does occasionally drift dangerously close to “too cute”)—but Harry And The Hendersons will be one of the summer’s most entertaining films, not to mention one of its biggest hits. B.H.

BANDITS

by Elmore Leonard (Arbor House)

After years of producing superior genre novels (Crime, western) Elmore Leonard has become a trendy taste; his deadpan humor, his kindly lowlife heroes, and his “ain’t-life-messy” plots offer readers the drollest descents into moral squalor currenty gracing the bestseller charts. This time, Leonard has chosen a topic which would indicate a reach for Deeper Meaning if it weren’t for the fact that said topic—Nicaragua, the Contras, gringo attitudes toward the Third World—is rich with the kind of readymade ambiguities that are Leonard’s grist. The premise: three small-time, part-time “bandits” who meet in the joint team up with an ex-nun who’s fresh from service in a Nicaraguan leper hospital, in order to rip off a Contra leader currently raising funds in New Orleans... a caper which, in true Leonard fashion, both succeeds and fails. Those who know zilch about Nicaragua fear not, ’cause neither does your protagonist—he has to learn the score in bits and pieces, and so will you. Excruciatingly entertaining and especially recommended to Sammy Hagar fans and other bonehead-types who confuse pissing on their shoes with standing tall. R.C.W.

PUNCTURE

(San Francisco fanzine)

Here’s a fanzine Chaz Eddy unjustly forgot to include in his round-up for the May ’87 CREEM. With ish no. 13, Puncture has glossed up its cover but maintained its incisive, serious coverage of bands whose music your ears oughta be buddies with. The writing’s consistently intelligent and informative (often with a feminist slant) and, unlike most ’zines, they’ve got a competent proofreader and a reader-friendly layout. No. 13’s juicy stuff includes: a Throwing Muses interview, an evaluation of New Zealand’s Flying Nun label bands, a Minneapolis scene profile, a grimly funny Camper Van Beethoven tour diary, and plenty of high-quality LP analyses cheek by jowl with trenchant live reviews. My only quibble: scant humor. ($2.25/issue, 1674 Filbert St., S.F., CA 94123) D.S.