THE MONSTER AND THE STRIPPER (1968)
aka The Exotic Ones
Directed by Ron Ormond
Nashville Cinema Partners VHS
THE FILM
Their monster. Their stripper. My heartbreak.
That title. Whispers about some kind of arm-ripping scene. Director Ron Ormond and family's mysterious legacy. These are the details which have secured The Monster And The Stripper a throne atop the kingdom of shrouded 1960s trash. Furthermore, these are the details which may very well keep it there. But that depends on the expanse of an individual's heart. Is there enough room in yours to humor both a harmonica novelty act and spilled cow guts? A fire-eating stripper plus dozens of Borscht Belt zingers? Pucker those lips, 'cause here comes the big, wet kitsch.
Untold layers of pink and green neon, surf-jazz-brass bombast, increasingly creative pasties, and very dirty floors; welcome to New Orleans, Ormond-style. Nemo's Strip Club is on the rocks. Lacking a new act that will conclusively reel 'em in, Nemo and his ruffian syndicate turn to Today's Headlines for inspiration. And they find it. The Swamp Monster! A furious, snorting caveman which kills swampfolk, decapitates cows, and lives underneath a layer of hay. Perfect. Or is it? Once captured, The Monster (rockabillionaire Sleepy LaBeef) does, indeed, fill the seats. But he also breaks loose and smooshes heads. Incidentally, if this all went down in 70 minutes or less, my heart would still be beaming.
On a base level, Monster is a series of odd, tedious paddings punctuated by occasional nastiness, some blood, and a few good jokes. With its overblown caricatures and travelogue asides, it's clear that Ormonds just wanna have fun. Which is terrific. That's how The Undertaker And His Pals and Love Goddesses Of Blood Island did it. And they turned out great. But Monster, for all of its colorful, ridiculous grace, goes overboard. With everything. The strippers stripping, the strippers talking, the swamp exploration, the random stage performances -- length overpowers strength. The initial surge of trashy glee dissolves over 90 minutes of sameness, while scenes of real animal violence (cow mutilation, live chicken beheading) do little to encourage the choking mood. If Ormonds Tire You, What Will Mahons Do?
Then again, that arm-ripping scene was quite marvelous. I guess a tawdry affair is preferable to no affair at all.
AUDIO AND VIDEO
Pretty fantastic. Colors are huge, while picture quality is nice and crisp. Plus, the cover art proclaims that this film is "REGURGITATING HORRORS!", which just might be the greatest bit of copy ever conceived.
EXTRAS
A credit reads: "Chandeliers: Bill Forrester". Not as good as "Special Electronic Music By Carl Zittrer", but those Zittrer genes weren't doled out to just anybody.
FINAL THOUGHTS
Its been (kinda) grand, LaBeef. The Monster And The Stripper does, indeed, deliver on its reputation for kitsch exploitation. It's all in there. However, you never hear about the rest of the film, which often swaps grubby fun for grubby restlessness. Enjoy it at some point, but don't expect a celestial experience.
— Joseph A. Ziemba, 09.09.10 |
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