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A continuing exploration of the curious and obscure in vintage cinema.
A continuing exploration of the curious and obscure in vintage cinema.

THE LEMON GROVE KIDS MEET THE MONSTERS (1965)

Directed By Ray Dennis Steckler/Peter Balakoff
Media Blasters/Guilty Pleasures DVD

THE FILM
In 1999, I caught a few minutes of a 40s-era Bowery Boys film on cable. It's no surprise that I can't remember the title. After about five minutes of humor that was clearly set in a different universe than my twenty year old head, I reached for the remote.

Today, I've finally caught up with Ray Dennis Steckler's The Lemon Grove Kids Meet The Monsters, after years of vieing-but-not-giving-in to Sinister Cinema's old VHS release. So what's the connection? Lemon Grove Kids is Steckler's homemade homage to Leo Gorcey, Huntz Hall, and the rest of the Bowery Boys gang. I still don't get the B-Boys' sense of humor; couldn't care less at this point. Lemon Grove Kids though? To be blunt, this is random, bizarre genius. Steckler's cartoon spaz-out is a beautiful insight into the culture, mindset, and creativity of the early 60s. Imitation really is the sincerest form of flattery, eh?

Initially conceived as a full length feature, Lemon Grove Kids turned into a short lived series of half-hour episodes (four total, but the final short was never finished) that hit screens on Saturday morning kiddie matinees. This film collects the three episodes (The Lemon Grove Kids, The Lemon Grove Kids Meet the Green Grasshopper and the Vampire Lady from Outer Space, and The Lemon Grove Kids...Go Hollywood!) and splices them together, complete with knock-out individual opening and closing titles. Ok, got it? Enough with the backstory. It's time to let loose and marvel.

Gopher (Cash Flagg aka Ray Dennis Steckler) and Slug (Mike Kannon) lead a ragtag group of Hollywood kids (normal and overgrown) through a series of caffeine-fueled adventures, tinged with drug store monsters, French saboteurs, grasshopper aliens, and Tex Avery’s sound effects library. Along the way, we meet the villainous Duke Mazaratti, glistening movie star Cee Bee Beaumont (Steckler's then-wife Carolyn Brandt), and the psychic Swamy Marvin! As the Lemon Grovers get into mischief (a foot race against the West Lemon Grove Kids, outwitting monsters, and foiling gangsters, respectively), Steckler bombards the screen with rapid edits and a "living cartoon" sense of invincibility. No one gets hurt, despite the completely fantastic situations. There’s even a “black out” section, featuring lightning and a stalking mummy -- the A-1 cue for some hired local schlub to stalk the theater aisles with a cheap monster mask. Each episode wraps up with a wacked out ending and I get the feeling that Mr. Steckler is infinitely more talented than his later exploitation legacy might have us believe.

Don’t try looking for parallels to other films. Aside from the intended Bowery Boys influence, this is unlike anything I’ve ever seen. Steckler manages to combine a manic pace with effective editing and truly eccentric characters; one hundred different diverging ideas, all corralled into a time bomb of energy. There’s shades of Ray’s nutty Rat Pfink A Boo Boo from 1966, but even that schizo gem wasn’t this far gone. It’s an impossible melding of Mad Magazine, Famous Monsters, and Inspector Clouseau -- all on a 16mm budget in Steckler’s California neighborhood. Although the shorts are aimed at kids, featuring many children in roles (Steckler’s included), the weird subject matter defies that point. Like a beat-era Krofft show, but a million times cooler. The third episode seemed to take a dip with original ideas and a lack of fantastic elements, but that’s a minor bump. I mean, where else can you see director Coleman Francis (Beast Of Yucca Flats) and Bob Burns (professional ape-man and monster historian) strut their stuff against a color Rat Pfink? Ready, steady, GO!

AUDIO AND VIDEO
Since R.D.S. has retained control of a majority of his filmography for the last thirty years, it’s no wonder this full frame print looks like a million bucks. The first episode appears to be shot with a more grainy film stock, while the subsequent shows take a step up in terms of clarity and production values. Regardless, the prints are incredibly clean and bold as a whole. The mono sound was equally clear and nice on the ears. Overall, a fantastic presentation.

EXTRAS
The cream of the crop here is a new 22 minute interview with Ray Dennis Steckler, decked out in sunglasses and baseball hat at his Las Vegas office while reminiscing about Lemon Grove and other early films. Ray relates some interesting, if somewhat unfortunate, details regarding Huntz Hall and even delves into a couple of future movie plans. In addition, Steckler provides an audio commentary for the film. Somewhat of a disappointment, the track veers from on-screen discussion to corny jokes to some interesting comments relating to the production. It takes Ray about twenty minutes to warm up to some solid facts, but I would have loved to hear more about the film’s history, development, other influences, etc.

Pulling up the rear are four trailers for other Media Blasters releases (including one for Steckler’s Rat Pfink, which is just a chunk of footage from early on in the film) and a 40 second still gallery which is a bit frustrating in its design; photos appear in a tiny word balloon, which makes for squinted viewing. There’s also a fantastic original trailer for the feature.

FINAL THOUGHTS
Lemon Grove Kids is not only a testament to the effectiveness of creative discount filmmaking, but a living polaroid of the ginchy times in which it was produced. Oh yeah...it’s a ton of fun too. A tip of the hat to you, Mr. Steckler. Truly unique films like this one make the world a much better place.

— Joseph A. Ziemba, 03.30.05






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