Low-budget film about a young man given a mystical medallion by an Aztec shaman, in order to become a puma-empowered champion like his father before him. In trying to initially locate the ... See full summary »
Alberto De Martino
Walter George Alton,
Miguel Ángel Fuentes
The Russian government has collapsed. Amidst the chaos, riots, and struggle for power, a terrible weapon has leaked out. Virulent microflage, a deadly germ of the cold war has begun to ... See full summary »
In this pseudo audio biography of the Village People, Jack Morell (a thinly disguised caricature of the group's founder, Jacques Morali) is a struggling composer desperate to gain fame with his songs, but all he needs is a group to sing them. With the help of his roommate Samantha and a lawyer named Ron, Jack forms a group of six "macho men" from his Greenwich Village neighborhood, and the rest of the film details their rise to fame from New York City to a climatic concert in San Francisco. Written by
Boy, where to start? My memory might fail me, but how about Steve Gutenberg rollerskating down the streets of New York, dancing to his transistor radio and wearing his corduroy OP short shorts and an Izod shirt with the collar flipped up? The mirroring camera "tricks" are sophomoric and silly, and the entire sequence sets the tone for the implausible film that follows. I wouldn't be surprised if that scene took months to film as Gutenberg was probably beaten up a multitude of times and they needed to splice together bits and pieces of footage. It isn't exactly Rocky running through the warehouse district of Philly, is it? No... No it's not. How about the brilliant decision to cast Bruce Jenner, fresh off the crowd-pleasing performance on a box of Wheaties? The best moments of the film are of the Village People following closely behind Jenner in his bare midriff t-shirts with cozy little smiles on their faces. Not even Jenner's classic method acting style was enough to help the rest of the cast rise to the ankle-level material here. I seem to recall a scene where they decide on a name for the band... "Hey... We're all from the Village, so why not The Village... PEOPLE?" Then the Village Person dressed as the Indian chief showed his approval by employing the classic Indian war call; hooting while popping his hand over his mouth. I nearly fell out of my chair.
And what about the fellow who comes to the band "try-outs" with the flaming batons? I think there was a message in there somewhere...
This film is hysterical for a million different reasons and therefore, a complete failure. Surely a must-see in order to provide acute awareness of the bad taste high-water mark.
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