Hollywood 90028

"Hollywood 90028" follows Mark, a dejected cinematographer in Los Angeles struggling to make it in the business, relegated to shooting porno loops to get by. Plagued by loneliness and alienated from his peers, Mark finds friendship in a prostitute named Michele, but his demons ultimately begin to surface in violent ways.

This obscurity written and directed by Christina Hornisher has often been branded as a rediscovered lost film, as it was hardly released for nearly four decades and unknown to even the most diehard exploitation enthusiasts. It is a unique film with a strong psychological dimension that is unfortunately never fully realized.

The character of Mark is wracked with guilt over the death of his infant brother when he was a child, and is a lonely and withdrawn man for reasons that are apparent. However, the screenplay lacks the connective tissue that could potentially make sense of his pathology. His character in some ways reminded me of Travis Bickle in Martin Scorsese's "Taxi Driver", released a few years later, though Mark's ultimate drive for murder lacks a tangible underpinning.

The film is unusual in that, despite largely dealing with masculine rage, it was written and directed by a woman, though it does also offer some exploration of female objectification and the realities of sex work through the character of Michele, another troubled soul who finds some kinship with Mark. It is a langorously-paced affair all around, with some dizzyingly surreal captures of Los Angeles's grimmer underbelly, which is certainly a plus.

As the story ramps up to its inevitable conclusion, there is a fair share of tension and a tragic last punch at the audience, but when the credits rolled, as a viewer, I felt ultimately empty. Perhaps this was an intentional choice, or maybe (and more likely) an incidental element of the film stemming from its spacey quality. All in all, I found it to be a character study that doesn't quite work, but its attempts at exploring a number of psychological themes are valiant. 6/10.

As teens in the mid to late 1970s, we often went to the drive-in for our weekend's entertainment, loaded with six packs (drinking age was 18 in Ohio for some beer). One night, we were pretty toasted and tired for the third movie on the bill called 'The Hollywood Hillside Strangler'. Somehow, I fought through the haze and noticed the peculiar artiness of this otherwise typical serial killer story. The characters were real, the dialogue was strong, although the atmosphere was on the dreamy side. Not David Lynch's Los Angeles, but I would discover that much later. I was really surprised that there was art in this exploitation flick and some years later searched for this film. Despite many resources, I couldn't identify it. I thought it was a Ray Dennis Steckler film, but no, not quite. Finally when I found this movie called "insanity' on the print I watched, I got the reward of seeing this drive-in classic again. The writing is still quite original and the direction, tone, and style all are wildly successful compared to other genre films in this budget range.

Trying to get his career started, a photographer hoping to leave the porn-world he shoots for a chance at legitimate work is confronted with a chance to change that when he finds a new potential girlfriend, but when it dawns on him that nothing is different tries to change everything.

This was a decent enough if somewhat flawed genre effort. Among the best attributes featured here is the strong setup that focuses on the gradual descent into insanity that triggers the rampage. While it may seem somewhat standard and formulaic in a more modern lens with the whole thing coming off as incredibly familiar with how it takes place, this one brings about the idea of the loner trying to make ends meet in a job he doesn't care about that slowly begins to take a toll on him psychologically. Embarrassed and put off by his work in the adult industry, his attempts at trying to advance beyond that are stymied when the work he wants isn't available to him due to his past which keeps him firmly entrenched in that universe. The extracurricular favors that go in and help enhance this feeling, from the backstory about his childhood growing up in a female-dominant family, the lack of affection from women in the industry, and the inability to connect with anyone all prove equally adept at getting the mindset across about who he is. While his motivation and background are established and somewhat understood, this part of the film is where things stumble quite a bit. The idea of this one leading to a frenetic finale that justifies his rampage is a fine touch. Yet, there's a rather tough time getting there with the whole thing interrupted by a maddeningly uninteresting storyline about the guy trying to find a partner with the model from the photoshoots but unable to come to terms sexually with her. With this all taking place as dates where they drive around the city, engage in endless monologues about their futures together, or visit random places in the city, it's interminably overlong until something happens to set him off on his final spree. This carries some nice weight to it in terms of how he manages to build to that potential mindset but it takes so long to get there all interest or care in the subject is missing even though this setup manages to provide one of the more striking and original finales here. It's the main thing that holds this one down.

Rated R: Language, Nudity, Violence, and sex scenes.

I just saw this at the New Beverly Cinema in Los Angeles on a double bill with "Don't Go In the House". The print they showed had "TWISTED THROATS" as its title. I wonder how many times this film was released in theaters under various titles. The premise sounded promising, but turned out to be long and very dull --- full of non-stop rambling dialog and shots of people walking around slowly that went on and on forever and ever. This is no horror movie!!! It's basically "Maniac" without the gore or killings. There are some nice shots or early 70's Los Angeles --- especially when it shows old closed down strip clubs of yesteryear like The Pink Pussycat.

I am guessing I was at the same New Beverly Cinema screening as the other commenter, where the audience went from confused and generally amused to teetering on the brink of rioting. As has been previously stated, this is not a horror film. It is incredibly unique, however - the kind of bastard love-child of Antonioni, "My Dinner With Andre," "Death Bed: The Bed That Eats," "Peeping Tom," and the novels of Bruce Wagner. At the very least, it surely deserves a DVD release, for the jaw-dropping final shot alone.

There's a good Psychotronic article in here somewhere - feminist manifesto sold as a genre film, with a cast and crew that came out of nowhere, nailed the film, then all but vanished. At the very least this movie could be programmed with the likes of "Sorority House Massacre" on some kind of "lesser known Psychotronic women" bill.

Worth seeking out, but be warned: It's not a horror film, it's molasses slow, and it's one of film's true buried curiosities.