Seldom Seen review | SONNY BOY
Posted by Collin Armstrong at 5:03am.
Posted in Film & DVD Reviews , Exploitation, Thriller, Cult, Comedy, Drama, USA & Canada, Seldom Seen Reviews.
A demented lo-fi tumble into dark surrealism, Robert Martin Carroll’s undeservedly obscure ’89 opus Sonny Boy plays like the institutionalized cousin of the Coens’ saccharine-by-comparison Raising Arizona. Anchored by a trio of outstanding turns from reliable genre thesps Paul L. Smith, Brad Douriff, and David Carradine (in drag and crooning over the credits), the film garnered relatively glowing critical praise and minor cult plaudits upon its initial release but has since faded into unjust obscurity. Last seen on laserdisc courtesy of Media and 20th Century Fox, the film was once the property of ‘80s VHS mainstay Trans World Entertainment, with some rights resting with HBO. Its exact whereabouts remain a mystery, a shameful fate for a film so consistently original and daring.
I’m throwing down the gauntlet on this one: Rolling Vengeance is a dyed-in the-wool minor lost classic in annals of ‘80s exploitation. We’ve been denied other superlative Reagan-era efforts like Night of the Creeps on DVD for some time but the thing is, people are calling for their re-releases - there are websites, even petitions. Vengeance, on the other hand, seems to have slipped past even the most meticulous DTV aficionados. Produced (in Canada, no less) at the height of monster truck mania in the go-go ‘80s, the film is a straight shot of over-the-top car crunching action and cheesy hard-rock ballads, the likes of which must truly be seen to be believed.
“Take your shirt off and I’ll see what I can do.” If your dream is to hear Dirty Dozen vet Clint Walker grumble those words to a construction worker– and be honest, you know somewhere deep inside it is – look no further than Killdozer, the shark-jumping 1974 MFTV offering about, yes, a possessed, killer bulldozer. While the spectacle of grown men unable to evade death at the metal maw of a slow-as-molasses earthmover may not make for an ambrosial 75 minutes, there are good bits of atmosphere scattered throughout and a spectacular synth-heavy Gil Melle score-cum-soundscape to reward diligent viewers – to say nothing of being able to simply sit back and enjoy one of the more harebrained concepts ever committed to populist celluloid.
[It is films like that this one that I count myself privileged to write for a website like Twitch. It is not often that this type of essential cinematic discovery comes along, and I’ll admit there is quite a heady-thrill when you are caught so off guard about a film. I must confess that my experience of the Filipino film industry is rather limited. That brings me into this particularly obscure piece of cinema with a lack of context politically and socially. A good thing that this film deals with themes and images which are timeless and intrinsic enough to the human condition, certainly knowing the state of the country at the time (original release was 1985) has to add a fair amount of additional insight into the film, however it is not really necessary. On a certain level, there is an art-house accessibility that should have had Silip picked up by Criterion (who put out Pier Paolo Pasolini‘s Salo) or Masters of Cinema or Facets years ago.]
In order to both honor the MFTV achievements of director John Badham and supply more much-needed coverage to the indisputable treasure trove of titles which graced the small screen 30-some-odd years ago, this double shot of Seldom Seen will look at two Badham-helmed MFTV offerings – 1973’s Isn’t It Shocking? and 1974’s 
Always quick to feed off real-life tragedy, the film world has only within the last few decades dared to critique with these early responses instead of simply spouting propaganda and waving flags. Wide-spread public dissatisfaction with the war in Vietnam pushed a young, socially-conscious generation of filmmakers toward producing works which reflected the war’s negative impact on all facets of American life while the conflict still festered. When the war “officially” ended in 1975, many soldiers returned to U.S. soil feeling, for the first time, like something other than heroes. It’s this notion that fules the dark engine of John Flynn’s Rolling Thunder (1977), a genuine cult classic that wraps a chilling character study inside the bloody trappings of a revenge thriller.
I really tried getting this up on the weekend I swear and boy, am I pissed I can’t go. I’m gonna make this short and sweet:
