postman-13
Iscritto in data lug 2000
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Valutazione di postman-13
Ohhh boy, why do I watch these? I do enjoy MST3K making fun of these turkeys, but even they were sore pressed to make anything out of this depressing mish-mash.
Follow now the artistic vision of Coleman Francis. He plays a sociopath who looks, as Kevin Murphy put it, "like Curley Howard possessed by demons from Hell." He joins up with two drifters, and, with help from the flat-faced Cherokee Jack, they join some vague militia force out to invade Cuba.
This brave battle force of about ten or so, after a few minutes of training, consisting of learning to fall and flip each other, finally attack Lake Mead, I mean The Bay Of Pigs. They are immediately captured because they carefully leave their weapons on the beach while they climb the cliffs.
There is an interminably long prison scene, as CF sits facing the camera with his legs spread and smokes. He sniffs a man's torn pant leg and says he has gangrene. There is the famous flub of an executed soldier reappearing as a guard. Castro makes a cameo, complete with a black construction paper beard.
They escape Cuba by breaking a guard's neck while asking for water. Somehow they get back to America (I think,) and dump a skinny cook down a mine shaft while his blind daughter playes demented piano music. At this point, CF declares that his killin' days are behind him, (sure enough, he only shoots one woman after this,) and now he wants to mine tungsten. Huh?
The torn pant leg guy is OK. His wife is OK. Curley/Coleman is hunted down and shot. What I've left out could fill a small paragraph.
Night Train To Mundo Fine, or Red Zone Cuba, (never trust a film with an alias,) hates its viewer. It spits in your eye. It puts cigarettes out in your shoulder (everyone is constantly lighting up, as if the movie was sponsored by Phillip Morris.) It subjects the viewer to John Carradine singing (!!) It submits the viewer to Coleman Francis directing, editing, and acting (!!!!) There are puzzling jump cuts. There are scenes that shift wildly between daylight and murky darkness. There are long pointless scenes, like the "trying unsuccessfully to get the rag top up" scene. There are actors with annoying voices. There are actors with muffled voices. Did I mention that John Carradine sings the theme song?
Ohhh boy, why do I watch these movies?
Follow now the artistic vision of Coleman Francis. He plays a sociopath who looks, as Kevin Murphy put it, "like Curley Howard possessed by demons from Hell." He joins up with two drifters, and, with help from the flat-faced Cherokee Jack, they join some vague militia force out to invade Cuba.
This brave battle force of about ten or so, after a few minutes of training, consisting of learning to fall and flip each other, finally attack Lake Mead, I mean The Bay Of Pigs. They are immediately captured because they carefully leave their weapons on the beach while they climb the cliffs.
There is an interminably long prison scene, as CF sits facing the camera with his legs spread and smokes. He sniffs a man's torn pant leg and says he has gangrene. There is the famous flub of an executed soldier reappearing as a guard. Castro makes a cameo, complete with a black construction paper beard.
They escape Cuba by breaking a guard's neck while asking for water. Somehow they get back to America (I think,) and dump a skinny cook down a mine shaft while his blind daughter playes demented piano music. At this point, CF declares that his killin' days are behind him, (sure enough, he only shoots one woman after this,) and now he wants to mine tungsten. Huh?
The torn pant leg guy is OK. His wife is OK. Curley/Coleman is hunted down and shot. What I've left out could fill a small paragraph.
Night Train To Mundo Fine, or Red Zone Cuba, (never trust a film with an alias,) hates its viewer. It spits in your eye. It puts cigarettes out in your shoulder (everyone is constantly lighting up, as if the movie was sponsored by Phillip Morris.) It subjects the viewer to John Carradine singing (!!) It submits the viewer to Coleman Francis directing, editing, and acting (!!!!) There are puzzling jump cuts. There are scenes that shift wildly between daylight and murky darkness. There are long pointless scenes, like the "trying unsuccessfully to get the rag top up" scene. There are actors with annoying voices. There are actors with muffled voices. Did I mention that John Carradine sings the theme song?
Ohhh boy, why do I watch these movies?
Oh God, was this painful, the most deepest of Deep Hurtings.
The plot seems to have been improvised. Actually, the plot was only partially concealed in those dancer's slit skirts, (some of which were more slit than skirt!) That is to say, scenes were mere contrivances to film the girls in various states of (un)dress as they lolled about this deserted cabin.
All female voices were obviously dubbed by one actress. She'd simply change her accent to differentiate. One line, she changed accents three times on the same actress! Just beautiful!
Many scenes were filmed murkily. The two fight scenes ivolving male cast members were laughably ridiculous. Watch as one guy, holdinga a chair over his head, WAITS for the other guy to get out of the way before he throws it!
Again, I digress. I realize this was just a thinly transparent effort for voyeurs. It's interesting to note what the concept of beauty was 40 years ago. It was different than today, because, like it or not, those grls had more meat to them than the anorexic models of today!
Oh yeah, I think there were spiders on the island, (plastic models, of course.)
The plot seems to have been improvised. Actually, the plot was only partially concealed in those dancer's slit skirts, (some of which were more slit than skirt!) That is to say, scenes were mere contrivances to film the girls in various states of (un)dress as they lolled about this deserted cabin.
All female voices were obviously dubbed by one actress. She'd simply change her accent to differentiate. One line, she changed accents three times on the same actress! Just beautiful!
Many scenes were filmed murkily. The two fight scenes ivolving male cast members were laughably ridiculous. Watch as one guy, holdinga a chair over his head, WAITS for the other guy to get out of the way before he throws it!
Again, I digress. I realize this was just a thinly transparent effort for voyeurs. It's interesting to note what the concept of beauty was 40 years ago. It was different than today, because, like it or not, those grls had more meat to them than the anorexic models of today!
Oh yeah, I think there were spiders on the island, (plastic models, of course.)
Incredibly strange describes this one to a tee. You'll find more ham here than in a dozen hog farms.
There's two of the worst attempts at stereotypical accents, Harold sounds like Latka's neighbor, ("Waat d'yu tink weer heer for, tweet?") and the fortune teller is so over the top with her "jeep-see" dialect I'm surprised she doesn't have a nosebleed.
Also there's Ortega, wearing a rubber mask and an obvious pillow under his coat. He doesn't speak much, our Ortega, he just grunts and puffs away on his Camels.
Ray Dennis Steckler, the director, also stars as a early sixties slacker with a rodent's face. No, not makeup or a mask, that's his real face. He drifts through life until the fortune teller gives him a new career opportunity, mass murderer!
Bizarre music, drug-like dream sequences, pitifully ugly dancer/strippers and singers, interminably long footage of carnivals, and very poor sound round out this one as another MST3K special. I gave it a 2, because I reserve my 1's for painfully bad cinema. This one doesn't maim, it just might cause contusions
There's two of the worst attempts at stereotypical accents, Harold sounds like Latka's neighbor, ("Waat d'yu tink weer heer for, tweet?") and the fortune teller is so over the top with her "jeep-see" dialect I'm surprised she doesn't have a nosebleed.
Also there's Ortega, wearing a rubber mask and an obvious pillow under his coat. He doesn't speak much, our Ortega, he just grunts and puffs away on his Camels.
Ray Dennis Steckler, the director, also stars as a early sixties slacker with a rodent's face. No, not makeup or a mask, that's his real face. He drifts through life until the fortune teller gives him a new career opportunity, mass murderer!
Bizarre music, drug-like dream sequences, pitifully ugly dancer/strippers and singers, interminably long footage of carnivals, and very poor sound round out this one as another MST3K special. I gave it a 2, because I reserve my 1's for painfully bad cinema. This one doesn't maim, it just might cause contusions