JUNKFILM

I loved going to see some splatter house, crap fest of a film in a drive in theater when I was a kid.  If the movie you were watching got boring all you had to do was turn around and watch the movie behind you (and let’s be honest, that one behind you was a lot more filled with nudity and violence than the one your parents took you to).   In the 1960s and 70s the Drive In was the best place to watch these Grindhouse films.  And let’s take a quick definition break, shall we?

Most of you think Grindhouse is a couple of films that came out a couple years ago directed by Tarantino and Rodriguez.  Ok… if this is your sense of what Grindhouse is, that’s ok, you’re about to get schooled, because that pisses me right the fuck off.  This would be like a movie coming out called “Comedy” and suddenly no one has ever heard of the film genre that once was comedy.  Grindhouse was a posthumously-genre title that was given to films that were, wait for it… that’s right… ground out in little to no time.  Yes, most were horror or splatter or even psychotronics, because these are the kinda films that would sell by the hundreds and seen in the theater for a couple weeks and then forgotten about in order to make way for the next blood-spraying title.  Most of these films took about a month to shoot and edit, hence, grinding out the movies.  Now you know, and as we all should know, knowing is half the battle.

Now that you know Grindhouse is a genre of shittily produced films and not some kind of skater dance music, you can see the immense draw drive ins had with these kind of films.  Drawing people by the hundreds to the outdoor mini-festivals every weekend.  But the Drive In was not like it is now.  My girlfriend and I  have been wanting to go see a drive in movie but all the movies are kid-friendly and that has no interest for me whatsoever… but still, I digress.  The drive in was a festive experience.  You didn’t have to sit in your car the whole time unless you’re copping a feel… and then by all means, stay in your vehicle.  It’s cool.

Going to the Drive in is a festive event.  Everyone gets to hang out and scream at the dumb blonde who is creeping down the stairs to the dark basements where the ax murder obviously is going to jump out after she scopes out the area declaring it finally safe.  It’s about sneaking 8 friends in the back of your truck and paying for just you and your girl. It’s about the constant friendly enviroment you get from everyone there because everyone else is there for the same reason: to see the craptastic movie on the outdoor screen and have a good time.

Lately, and by lately I refer to the  time span of the last 20 or so years, the Drive In has turned, well, let’s say, in to shit.  The last few times I have gone, everyone just sits in their car with the windows up.  No one is camped out on top of the trucks.  No one is walking around starting up fun film conversations.  And probably the worst thing of all, aside from the lack of Drive Ins, is the lack of crappy horror films.  Seriously.  WTF?  I want to scream along a few other dozen cars at the poorly executed blood spray of the squib that didn’t go off at the right moment.  But it would seem that these kind of movies aren’t what the public wants to see.  They want to see Beverly Hills Chihuahua, a movie so fucking terrible that I inadvertently erased it from my memory when I did my 2008 worst films of the year and forgot to add it to the top slot.  I don’t wanna see G-force or what ever crapfesticle crappity crap is playing this week.  I wanna see I Eat Your Flesh or I Drink Your Blood or Tomb of the Blind Dead, or to be truthful, almost anything that has Dead in the title, besides movies like Dead Calm.

Ok … tyrannical rant is now over.  Question of the week… and here is a doozy.  How many bullets were fired off in Hard Boiled?  If you can answer this I will have you as a guest author on an upcoming post discussing firearms and bullets in movies.

Until then, I’m off for more Dr Pepper.

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