Sonny Boy

Sonny Boy is a one of a kind horror/comedy with an exceptional cast. Paul L. Smith (Midnight Express, Crimewave) plays his usual over-the-top man/monster role, David Carradine his transvestite wife, Brad Dourif (legend!) the aptly named Weasel, and Dourif's Cuckoo's Nest co-star Sydney Lassick, the slimy Charlie P. Michael Griffin is exceptional in the title role. Pity he didn't go on to do anything else. Maybe making Sonny Boy scarred him for life?! I also liked veteran Conrad Janis as one of the few non-repulsive characters in this, an alcoholic doctor with a liking for surgery involving monkey parts(!) Janis has had one eclectic career, working with everyone from Shirley Temple and Ronald Reagan to African bushman N!xau, from Mork And Mindy to The Cable Guy, but surely he must rate this as the weirdest project he's ever been involved in! And Brad Dourif has made more than his fair share of strange movies,not least of which Blue Velvet, but none as demented as this crazy mutha!

I recommend Sonny Boy to bizarre movie lovers everywhere, and fans of Garth Ennis comics will find much to enjoy here, as it shares a similar gonzo humour to Preacher et al.

Get hold of this film, any way you can (not illegally, of course). Scream its name from the rooftops of buildings everywhere, high or small, and offer prayers to your God for a fully-featured special edition DVD release. There is no film like Sonny Boy: even Leonard Maltin was moved to call it (I quote verbatim) "A repulsive, socially irredeemable waste of celluloid ... filmed for no apparent reason other to offend and appal", and if that isn't a recommendation for a cult movie, I don't know what is. Critics said similar things about Peeping Tom, A Clockwork Orange, Reservoir Dogs, and so many more ... those films are amazing and entirely individual, and so is this. It's pitiful that Sonny Boy has so little recognition apart from a few right-thinking die hards - you don't have to like it, just admit you've never seen its like before or since. Get on the bandwagon speedily, because if I am human this film will, in the near future, be recognised for the angry, iconoclastic, unclassifiable explosion it really is. And you can be among those who educated the world. Feel the adrenaline. There.

"Sonny Boy" is not for the faint of heart, or the easily offended. It's a mind blowing, shocking, trashy melodrama that the cast performs for everything that they're worth. It may not be to very many tastes, but this twisted, darkly comic allegory is striking enough and compelling enough to make it a memorably weird viewing. Yet it does manage the feat of being somewhat poignant, even in the face of its depravity.

In 1970 New Mexico, a young couple is murdered, their car stolen, and baby unknowingly abducted - by quirky lowlife Weasel (who else but the great Brad Dourif). Weasel takes the prize(s) back to his boss, small time crime kingpin Slue (Paul L. Smith of "Popeye" and "Pieces"). Slue lives with a "wife", Pearl (David Carradine, who plays the role in full drag) who takes an instant shine to the kid. Slue wants nothing to do with a child until he realizes that he now has innocent life that he can corrupt as he sees fit, and turn into a feral attack dog. The much abused "Sonny Boy" (Michael Boston) makes his presence known to the outside world, eventually, leading to predictable circumstances.

"Sonny Boy" will turn some viewers off and intrigue others. At least it does seem to have the courage of its convictions. While on the one hand it depicts a pretty sleazy little world, it's decently shot in widescreen by Roberto D'Ettorre Piazzoli and vividly designed by Mario Molli. The music by Carlo Maria Cordio is nice, and there's a similarly appealing, wistful ditty composed and sung by Carradine called "Maybe It Ain't".

Carradine is truly something to see as the desert moll. Smith, who didn't want to do the movie but changed his tune when he saw who else had been signed up, is typically amusing as the loathsome father figure. Dourif and his "One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest" co-star Sydney Lassick are reunited as they cheerfully play their slimy parts. Conrad Janis is solid as a drunken doctor teased by his fellow citizens. And Alexandra Powers is appealing as Rose, the young lady who is moved by Sonny Boy and tries to reach out to him.

Worth a look see for the more adventurous among B movie enthusiasts.

Seven out of 10.

I just lucked into seeing this in the 'something different' section of the video store and took it home, hoping it would live up to that promise. It did. You adventurous soul who is reading this, I envy you because as much as I intend on finding this movie and watching it until the tape wears through, you are going to be seeing it for the first time. If you have an open mind, this movie will blow it away. If you don't, stick with the mall movies, you'll hate this. This film has no category and plays by no rules, which explains the low rating here and the fact that it's practically unheard of. To put this in the category of David Lynch is an insult to this film because this is no 'I went to film school' art film. It has no pretensions and plays homage to no one, although I personally tasted a slight flavor of "Bring Me The Head of Alfredo Garcia" in some of its humor. That too was a masterpiece that most audiences hissed at and called tasteless and offensive way back when. There's no doubt that there's something here to offend anyone who is jaded but I personally found the Christ/Frankenstein analogies extremely moving, and David Carradine is thus far the best Virgin Mary I've ever seen (I'm serious). One can read all sorts of stuff like that into this movie if they so desire. I liked the "Father, Son and Holy Ghost' quote in the middle of the film, and Paul L Smith's cartoonishly cruel yet fatherly image comfortably fits with my personal conceptions of God so I was happy to chose that route at times (anyone else see the sheriff as Pontius Pilate?). [Mel Gibson, eat your polyester heart out!!] This director, Robert Martin Carroll, has the most amazing gift for creating visuals to describe feelings. A red, ripe balloon lifting up into a turquoise sky for example, describes a first kiss as well as the shock that succeeds it, with dizzying precision [kudos to DP Roberto Pizzoli for capturing that balloon's ripeness - there's no other way to describe it!] The performances, as others here have mentioned, are superb. And the score is so pure and sincere that it took me nearly an hour before I realized that this film wasn't made thirty years ago. I don't use the word 'masterpiece' very often, and after seeing over 5,600 movies in my lifetime, the 'great' movies are becoming fewer and further between, so please excuse my unabashed need to scream from the rooftops, HALLELUJAH!

Let us now bow our heads and pray for a DVD release.

While watching this with a friend (in a general state of disbelief due to the surreal audacity of the flick), they looked over at me to exclaim that I had found "the impossible movie". This comment bluntly yet accurately summarizes in many ways what it is about this movie that cannot really be put into words. Any attempt to describe this movie would simply do it an injustice. The combination of elements; cinematography, music, actors, scenarios, etc. is nearly brilliant and the dark humored tone that dominates this film is disturbing, illuminating and hilarious all at once. Watching this film is definitely a love-it or hate-it proposition, but for those who appreciate the surreal, offbeat and macabre elements of cinema, this film is a motherlode. Just keep in mind that Psychotronic Film Guide ranks this as one of the top ten films of the '80's and the gentleman responsible for the screenplay (Graeme Whifler) created most of the early films and videos for that infamous band of San Francisco musical luminaries, The Residents. If these two facts mean anything to you, then I need to say no more...