Hollywood Boulevard

Joe Dante got his start as a director in collaboration with director Allan Arkush on this zany send-up of low-budget film-making, lampooning their own mentor/boss Roger Corman with "Miracle Pictures - if it's a good movie, it's a Miracle!" It's also an homage to an obscure Bela Lugosi flick, The Death Kiss, about a death on a horror movie set. This story takes that premise a little further by making it about a series of deaths, seemingly (at first) unrelated, but soon enough showing a pattern of the female stars being targeted. Who is the culprit isn't really as important, or as entertaining until the last few minutes anyway, as seeing the whole fun/rotten atmosphere of down-and-dirty B-movie-making.

It's not that every joke (intended or not) always works, and some of the acting, even if intentionally, is quite pitiful. But Dante and Arkush are putting so much there on the screen via Patrick Hobby's screenplay that enough of it really does stick. Some of it attributable to the plucky can-do attitude of the character Candy Hope (and equally fun to watch, Candice Rialson) and how she observes and becomes apart of the insanity and snobish-ness of the film crew. Lines also stick out as being the kind you want to quote for weeks ("Your motivation is to kill hundreds of Philippine soldiers!"), and acting from the likes of Dick Miller as the well-meaning agent and Paul Bartel as the pretentious director Erich von Leppe.

The jokes and gags keep coming, and often at a quick enough pace - there's a big shootout between the girls and (stock footage of) Philippene soldiers that is a lot of fun, and a car that's brakes are cut off which allows for a tremendously goofy car chase scene (the car itself possibly on loan from Death Race 2000). And there's a hysterical sequence at a drive-in movie theater for the premiere of Candy's big-screen debut that turns out horribly. It's a sometimes sloppy comedy but that's part of the charm, and a lot of ingenuity goes a long way (one sequence at the movie set after hours where a killer lurks after one of the girls is actually very well directed and moody, a sign of things to come from Dante especially).

A beautiful blonde from Indiana (Candice Rialson) moves to Hollywood to become an actress and find fame. She hooks-up with a dubious team of moviemakers who run Miracle Pictures. Their slogan is: "If it's a good picture, it's a miracle." Statuesque Mary Woronov is on hand as an increasingly bitter actress who works for the company.

"Hollywood Boulevard" (1976) is an amusing send-up of Grade Z filmmaking with comedy, action, slasher, you-name-it. It's amusing for the first 40 minutes or so, but starts to lose its charm by the second half. Sure, it's entertaining to a point if you want to turn-off your brain for a fun time, but that doesn't change the fact that it's a shallow, throwaway flick.

Nevertheless, there's a surprising sequence that obviously influenced Coppola and his outstanding air raid on the village sequence in "Apocalypse Now."

Blonde Candice Rialson was a memorable B-film starlet in the 70s, along the lines of redhead Claudia Jennings; and, less so, thin Tara Strohmeier, who plays Jill here. Meanwhile brunette Rita George is notable as Bobbi. There's quite a bit of top nudity, so stay away if you find that objectionable.

Eleven years later, "Howling III: The Marsupials" would feature a satirical filmmaking crew, similar to the one in this one.

It runs 1 hour, 23 minutes, and was shot in Los Angeles, including Hollywood, except for sequences done at Paramount Ranch in Agoura Hills, which is west of there, just north of Malibu in the high country (the Western town set and open landscape shots).

GRADE: C.

The flick doesn't so much satirize or parody drive-in cheapos as it mocks them. And what movie series is easier to mock than the rubber monsters, cheezy sets, and sloppy directing from the 50's. In fact those earlier flicks pretty much made fun of themselves, and I can imagine what went on behind those set-ups. Here, those behind-the-scenes come to imagined life and add up to the flick's goofy core. But no teen of that era cared what critics thought, including myself. Then too, I really liked the drive-in crowd scene here, where anything goes including make-out teens on car fenders and wholesome 50's type families who actually watch the screen.

Anyhow, the action never stops after the first part. It's all explosions, gunfire, and production crew misfires, and shouldn't overlook the many topless actresses who are anything but misfires. Speaking of actresses, Rialson and Woronov's characters Candy and Mary are not mocked, being more abused by the quickie industry than lampooned. In fact the opening scenes of the stage-struck Candy getting taken-in by fast-talking operators like Walter (Miller) strike a more somber and realistic note than the movie's goofy remainder. In fact, despite the overlying lunacy, there's a somber subtext: namely, that Hollywood exploits the heck out of young women, making them readily dispensable like Jill and Mary. Perhaps that's not a surprising reality to most of us, but a worthwhile under-current to the tom-foolery, nevertheless.

On a lighter note, good to see real veterans of Roger Corman's drive-in empire getting lead roles here - I'll bet they had fun mocking their past. Anyway, brace yourself for an hour-plus of nonstop action and lots of laughs from a nutzoid look at good-times past at the beloved drive-in.

To be entirely honest, I came close to abandoning "Hollywood Boulevard" after a few minutes already, due to the exaggeratedly goofy sequence of a stunt woman crashing from a plane and leaving a person-shaped crater in the ground upon impact. That sort of stuff belongs in a "Tom and Jerry" or "Roadrunner" cartoon, but not here. But because Roger Corman and Joe Dante are involved, and mainly because the gorgeous Tara Strohmeier was standing around topless for no reason, there was a little voice inside my head encouraging me to continue. It might get better...

Overall, I'm glad I persevered. There are many more silly and downright idiotic moments like these in "Hollywood Boulevard", but also the showcasing of brilliant tongue-in-cheek satire and in-house parody. Roger Corman gave two of his canniest acolytes (Joe "Piranha" Dante and Allan "Rock & Roll High School" Arkush) 10 days, $60.000, and free access to the outtakes of his previous film-hits (notably "Death Race 2000). What they delivered in return is a bonkers but imaginative - and, yes, occasionally dreary - cocktail of comedy, sleaze, horror, and parody.

"Hollywood Boulevard" begins as a tale about a naïve young actress struggling to make it in the movie industry, continues as a portrait on how difficult it is to remain successful in that same industry, and ends (quite fantastically) as a slasher in which the sexy B-movie actresses are the targets of a maniacal killer. What makes "Hollywood Boulevard" so enjoyable is the marvelous cast of Corman-regulars and the shameless exploitation of beautiful female nudity. Paul Bartel is splendid as the unworldly director who loves himself and Dick Miller is genius as the sly talent agent. Actresses Tara Strohmeier, Candice Rialson, and Rita George also give more than admirable performances, but - who are we kidding - are most memorable for their topless appearances. The long and 200% gratuitous sequence where the three of them are sunbathing half-naked on a beach in The Philippines probably still is the highlight of Joe Dante's and Alan Arkush's careers!

Oh, and you simple have to love the fictional "Miracle Films" production company's slogan: If it's a good picture, it's a Miracle.

In the autumn of 1975, Roger Corman set out to make the fastest, cheapest drive-in movie in the history of New World Pictures. This wild, uproarious cult classic is the result. Candice Rialson is Candy Hope, a starry-eyed Midwestern beauty hoping to make it big on that street of dreams, only to find that the glitter is just glass from broken liquor bottles. Instead, she ends up as a contract starlet with Miracle Pictures, a prolific B-movie factory grinding out sleaze epics for the passion pits of America (sound familiar?). Dick Miller is her agent. The always-fantastic Mary Woronov is Mary McQueen, the studio's Amazonian leading lady who has no patience with the new crop of upstarts ("You get your boobs in front of a camera and you're ready to jump into the cement!"). Everyone is shipped to the Philipines to shoot Machete Maidens of Moratau, with Paul Bartel as the director ("Your motivation is to massacre 3,000 Asiatic soldiers."). The film is pieced together with stock footage from other New World masterpieces, particularly Death Race 2000, with Candy donning David Carradine's famous leather mask. A kid at a drive-in cries out for more sex, while his parents deride the movie as "sick" and "worse than television." A drive down Hollyweird shows the famous Pussycat Theatre and various adult bookstores and massage parlors. A romantic interlude is serenaded by Commander Cody and His Lost Planet Airmen, belting out a raucous, dirty country tune. Mary's name is superimposed onto the poster for Untamed Mistress. Robbie the Robot refuses to do nudity. B-movie in-jokes come thick and fast, including a girl stabbed to death on a bed frame a la Snuff. The whole thing looks great, especially for $60,000, and is consistently hilarious--especially Mary, complete with cigarette holder and the vocabulary of a sailor. A bona fide drive-in classic. And remember..."If it's a good picture, it's a Miracle!"