Riot on 42nd St.

I realize this is nothing to brag about, but I have seen almost all of Tim Kincaid's films. Riot on 42nd Street is probably one of his better films. I know that's not saying much but come on. When all the dust clears, the film ends, you gotta admit, you watched the movie.

Adequate acting, inept fight scenes, and stand-up comic getting a deserving death by a shotgun during a nightclub massacre, make this no-budget wonder worth a look.

Two things concern me. What caused the riot? And why did the police not investigate the nightclub massacre?

The recent, overtly self-conscious resurgence of the "grindhouse" aesthetic (with filmmakers cramming their movies with skin, in-your-face violence, and faux-documentary techniques for a sense of "realism") is the only hope for any renewed interest in a well-forgotten film like "Riot on 42nd St." And even as a time-machine trip back to an era where NYC was an unabashed cesspool of junkies, prostitutes, and live sex shows, its unflinching display of urban squalor and decay eventually becomes a chore to endure. Far be it for me to bemoan the period: Lucio Fulci set one of his best films, "The New York Ripper," in the heart of Big Apple sleaze, and the result was a bit of nasty giallo genius. The problem with "Riot on 42nd St" is: writer-director Tim Kincaid (of "Robot Holocaust" infamy) is no Lucio Fulci...at the end of the day, he's not even Bruno Mattei. The dual-expressioned John Patrick Hayden plays Glen, an ex-con looking to revive his former theater; Kate Collins is the perpetually dazed cop who loves him; and a third-billed Jeff Fahey shows up for a few scenes to cast two-mile stares on the rest of the cast. What little plot there is revolves around a competitor's attempts to muscle Glen out of town; when the clientele is massacred on opening night (in the midst of some endless performance-piece padding), our ex-con vows lantern-jawed revenge. If Kincaid had any film-making skill whatsoever, "Riot" could have been a nifty chip off the Larry Cohen School of Guerrilla Movie-making, but the man can barely establish setting (the where and why of what is happening is vague at best), the action is ineptly choreographed (right down to the titular event), and the performances (Fahey's excepted) are terrible across the board. "Riot on 42nd St" is proof that a setting on its own is not enough to ensure a film's place in history (even the niche ghetto of Cult status).

What can I say, this is one of the worst of the worst. Sure its so bad its funny, but the ineptitude wears after twenty minutes and its just a slow slog to the end.

The plot has a guy returning to 42nd street after sometime away and planning on opening a nightclub in the middle of it. The big shot who runs the street and who hates our hero does everything he can to stop him, including machine gunning the opening night crowd to death. Its bad acting, violence and comedy in spades.

The film film is set, and was made, in the last of the bad old days of 42nd Street. This was before Rudy and Disney came in and cleaned it all up. This is the 42nd street that you avoided like the plague since you probably would be robbed or worse. It was a place of incredible danger right off the Great White Way. It was filled with characters of every description, most of whom wanted to get something from you,usually in the quickest and least honest way possible. The way its portrayed in the film is both as better and worse than it was depending on what the plot needed. The most glaring error put me in hysterics as a mostly white middle class audience attends the opening of the nightclub. It would never have happened, certainly not without a heavy police presence. The director of this film, was/is in the gay porn industry and should have known better.

As a record of what the street looked like (kind-of, sort-of) the film is a valuable document, except that the continuity is so awful that any one who knew or knows the area will get a headache with mismatched shots. (and even if you don't know the area, watch what passes outside the windows during the opening cab ride, and match that up to what we see happening on the street) As an actual watchable film of any quality this is the pits. Its dumb, simply dumb. While some of the acting is okay, most of it isn't.(And what the hell is Jeff Fahey doing in this garbage beyond getting a paycheck?) The direction is bad. The action...is not be taken seriously. The whole thing is just barely in the so bad its funny category, but not in place that can be recommended.

If you are nostalgic for the bad old days before Disney, and don't care about quality, give this movie a try (my rating of 2 is purely nostalgic). Everyone else give this film a wide berth.

Ultimately anyone admitting to having seen this or owning this should be beaten (yea, me too). Anyone admitting to liking it should be locked up in an institution. And anyone who admits to having been part of this film's production should be forced to eat a print of it (They brought into the world, they can help take it out)

I noticed there was another Fahey listed in the end credit so maybe that could be a reason why he took a supporting role in a low-budget New York action film directed by the notorious Joe Gage (well known for male adult film in the 70's, aka ex-actor Tim Kincade). Because Fahey was in Bigger roles at the time, and this is pretty low-budget for a rising star to do.

Fahey plays a cop in a 4 appearence cameo in a basic plot about a small time criminal (played by a stuntman turned actor) who runs a 24 hours movie theatres in 42nd street, who got out of prison after killing a man by accident. He is going to re-open the theatre's basement that is a gambling casino nightclub (with a terrible comedian name Ajax), and his old rival wants the place closed down. Lots of social message of Grindhouse getting closed down, and about how the neighborhood. Lots of graphic violence, and even a return of "black Dragon" Van Clief is a supporting role. Frances Raines is wasted in a nothing role. Some real treat is to see the street the way it use to be, and a catch title theme. Kincade making a successful transition doing the Fred halsted film to video films like the JOE GAGE TAPE to directing non-adult film could've been the next Abel Ferrera. Recommended.

After watching "Robot Holocaust", "Breeders" and now "Riot on 42nd St." I have no doubt in my mind that Tim Kincaid made the right decision in returning to his previous film career of Gay Porn. The absolute lack of emotion by the "actors" as well as the worst case of continuity problems I've ever witnessed are indicative of a director whose one and only creative decision is which body orifice, hole, or blow-up doll to stick a penis into. When your star's biggest claim to fame is doing the stunts on "Ishtar" you're not exactly looking for top tier talent to enhance an already thin plot. Guess he couldn't book any of his buds from "Mens Restroom". Bummer.

Glenn Barnes (said "Ishtar" tumbler John Hayden) has just got out of the pokey for accidentally killing some deadbeat who was harassing customers at his dad's grindhouse/comedy club/strip club/casino/stage show/delicatessen. Okay, I added the last one but come on, how many things can one cat have going on? When he returns to his old neighborhood, which happens to be a pre-Guiliani 42nd street, he immediately reopens the old club nicknamed "The Garage" with the same variety acts as before. This disturbs his main competitor Farrell who runs the "Love Connection" minus Chuck Woolery and the countless other forms of entertainment that The Garage offers. Farrell is a man after Kincaid's own heart as he physically abuses his girlfriend and mentally abuses his musclehead enforcer, Remy, probably because of the immense crush he has on him. This epic battle between smut dealers and no-talent comedy hacks (see the Yahoo Serious-like Zerocks) is causing the two cops assigned in this neighborhood to brood silently as if coma patients. Bored cop A is Michelle who loved Glenn or loves him or just maybe wanted to love him, it's hard to read this emotionless broad. Bored cop B happens to be Jeff Fahey who is slumming here, even by his own standards, must of been one hell of a bet he lost, in a short role as Frank. After an opening night massacre on Glenn's patrons forces him to face Farrell and his flunkies, the laughably awful riot ensues. At least there's plenty of nudity.

Have you ever stepped away from a movie for a few minutes, returned, and become completely lost as to what just transpired on screen to get to where it's at? Well, "Riot" is exactly like that without even having to leave anywhere! There is absolutely NO cohesion from one scene to the next. People appear in the club in one scene then in a dark sewer next. Characters stare offscreen blankly for no explicable reason as if we are supposed to guess what is capturing their gaze. Nobody shows an ounce of emotion whatsoever especially Kate Collins as Michelle. If ever there was an actress to portray someone who has been lobotomized she's the one. Tons of nude pasty white women in unflattering underwear are abound which has become a Kincaid essential of his mainstream movies. He still doesn't get that naked women for the sake of nudity is kinda pointless if we don't care to see what average looking women are like nude. Since I'm not from New York I can't recommend this on purely nostalgic purposes though I do encourage you to watch this as another wholly inept attempt at legitimate movie-making by someone who clearly has no clue how to accomplish that very thing.