The XYZ's of a Criminally Overlooked Misfire :: Sam Raimi's Crimewave (1985)

"I'm the Captain of this elevator.

And we're stopping on every floor!"

 

Aside from being one of the most unrepentantly ferocious horror films ever made, and inspiring the greatest psycho-billy song ever recorded, The Evil Dead (1981) should also be noted for bringing Sam Raimi and Joel and Ethan Coen into the same cinematic orbit.

As the legend goes, after a grueling shoot, with their opus at long last in the can, the Renaissance Film trio -- director Raimi, producer Rob Tapert and star Bruce Campbell -- took their raw footage to New York, where editor Edna Ruth Paul and her assistant, Joel Coen, awaited to hack and splice it all together.

At the time, brother Ethan was an accountant for Macys, but as the film began to take shape, Raimi and the brothers Coen hit it off after Paul insisted he take a look at one of their scripts, which would eventually be filmed as Blood Simple (1984), where the Coens stopped being known as Joel and Ethan and officially became the Coen Brothers.

Liking what he read, and finding that they had similar sensibilities, Raimi then dusted off an old script of his own about a pair of bumbling killers called Relentless; and together, Raimi and the Coens fleshed it out considerably, with a hope that it would be a possible follow up once The Evil Dead was completed and released.

Sam Raimi

Ethan and Joel Coen

Now, it was while touring the finished film in Europe that Raimi and Tapert found a champion in producer Edward Pressmen -- Badlands (1973), Phantom of the Paradise (1974), Conan the Barbarian (1982), who liked the cut of their gib so much he helped them shepherd that follow up -- now under the title of The XYZ Murders -- into production by securing them financing through AVCO Embassy.

Turns out, however, that that would be the last bit of luck the soon-to-be-troubled production would encounter.

“At the time we had no idea how good of an experience Evil Dead was,” said Campbell (If Chins Could Kill, 2001). “Sure, we burned off four years of our lives and didn’t pocket a cent, but we had total creative control. Jumping into the big time meant dealing with the excruciatingly specific and alternately vague demands of a studio -- unlike Michigan dentists, Hollywood executives took an interest in EVERYTHING.”

It began with the casting, where the AVCO Embassy suits demanded that Campbell be replaced by a more bankable star. (Hell. I know when I think of a bankable star, I think of Reed Birney. Sheesh.)

Couple that with a grossly underestimated budget (-- as the novice filmmakers did not take into account union fees and other incidentals with their original proposal), resulting in a shoot that ran both over time and over budget, leaving neither camp very happy with each other; and conditions did not improve when a rough-cut was finally screened.

Upset with the overblown antics and nonsensical story-line, the studio basically seized the film and shooed Raimi and company out the door. After wrenching it away, AVCO Embassy then re-cut the film and redid the score, making the thing even more convoluted and nonsensical, slapped it with a new and -- staying with the theme -- nonsensical title, and then, by now having lost all faith in the project, quietly released Crimewave (1985), which just as quietly disappeared soon after.

Ever since the film has been treated like a red-headed step-child by its creators, loathed by their fans over the way they were treated by the studio hacks, and basically unheard of by everyone else. To that end, Crimewave has few defenders, but, despite all of its problems and flaws, and there are many, I’m here to tell you that I am an unabashed fan. 

Also, it’s nowhere near as bad as you’ve heard and, I think, the film is rather brilliant if you can look at it with an un-jaded eye. And the central plot isn’t all that convoluted to my eye, but tends to get lost in the thunder of the utter chaos surrounding it.

Basically, a security expert hires a couple of hitmen -- one a brutish thug (Smith), the other a weasel personified with a thing for electricity (James) -- to bump off his business partner. Things go staggeringly awry from there and a farcical comedy of errors follows as more and more bodies start piling up. See, the assassins have to keep catching and bumping off witness after witness; the toughest catch being the victim’s wife (Lasser).

Meanwhile, a hapless dope (Birney) becomes an unwitting dupe as he tries to protect his dame (Wilson) from becoming the next victim. Bedlam and an astounding amount of property damage ensue, which all culminates in one helluva car chase (-- with an extended cameo by The Classic).

Often described by the few who have seen it as a feature length tribute to the The Three Stooges, I think Raimi and the Coens had a loftier model in mind and were inspired, instead, by the screwball comedies of Preston Sturges -- Sullivan’s Travels (1941), The Miracle of Morgan’s Creek (1944), with the usual trademark “Shemping” thrown in to fill in the gaps.

You don’t have to squint too hard to see Eddie Bracken and Betty Hutton running through a lot of these slapstick set-ups and gob-smacking gags -- especially that elevator gag. (Anyone else notice how much Butch’s dad looks like Joe E. Brown?) This notion was then cross-pollinated with the Looney Tunes, allowing these characters to inflict and sustain an inordinate amount of hit-damage, exemplified by the extended game of cat and mouse between Faron and Mrs. Trend:

The scene where Faron sinks his fingers into the carpet and pulls the hysterical woman and the whole room, en masse, toward him is right out of the Tex Avery / Chuck Jones playbook. 

But that’s just a teaser to the truly inspired scene as the chase continues through a security door display, with Faron plowing through each door just as fast as his victim can close them.

Honestly, I think your reaction to that kind of humor will gauge whether you’d like this film or not. Would I have loved to see Campbell in the lead? Absolutely (-- and he’s great as the heel, Renaldo). 

To be fair, Reed Birney isn’t that bad as our hero, Vic Ajax, but the part was geared for and would have been better served by the guy he replaced.

And I’m embarrassed to admit but it wasn’t until I screened it again for this write-up that I realized Vic’s love-interest, Nancy, was played by Sheree Wilson, destined to play Chuck Norris’ main squeeze in Walker, Texas Ranger (1993-2001).

Meanwhile, known for being one of the former Mrs. Woody Allens and the star of the short-lived but fondly remembered Mary Hartman, Mary Hartman (19876-1977), Louise Lasser holds her own in a role that required her to drop her neurotic shtick to scream and run around like a chicken with its head chopped off. And as our cartoonish killers, Paul Smith and Brion James are damned near pitch-perfect.

Thus, with all that (burgeoning) clout behind the camera and a game cast, one can’t help but wonder what went so wrong to cause that big of a knee-jerk reaction from the studio? 

As is, one of Crimewave’s biggest problems is that if you take a step back you can easily see that its parts are better than the whole. Kinda like how certain cars are more valuable if they’re chopped up and sold for parts.

I would love to see a DVD release of it someday; preferably a director’s cut to see if maybe all those parts gelled better. But I don’t think that will ever happen, from what I’ve read, as all involved want nothing to do with it.

And I guess one good thing did come out of Crimewave. After the film landed with thunderous thud, Raimi and his collective head of knuckle needed a fast rebound or their viability might have been shot forever. And that rebound turned out to be a sequel all involved thought they’d never (have to) do. 

Take that, haters.

This here post is part of The Raimifest Blogathon, which originated over at the S-Mart Smart Things that Don't Suck. Thanks to Bryce for throwing out such a wide net for contributions, and now all you Primitive Screw-Heads, Darkmen, and slightly Radio-Active Do-Gooders click on over and check out the other well worth your while entries.

Crimewave (1985) Renaissance Pictures-AVCO Embassy / D: Sam Raimi / W: Ethan Coen, Joel Coen, Sam Raimi / C: Robert Primes / E: Michael Kelly, Kathie Weaver / M: Arlon Ober / P: Edward R. Pressman, Irvin Shapiro, Rob Tapert / S: Reed Birney, Sheree J. Wilson, Louise Lasser, Brion James, Paul L. Smith, Bruce Campbell

Vintage Tuneage :: It all Sounds Fine to Me. Hehehehehheh...

Turn the volume up.
Push play.
And then hang on.

Trust me.

The Staggers:

Ryan McCoy (Drums), Billy Blitz (Guitar),
The Matt (Bass), Joe Blow (Vocals, Guitar).

TCB, Baby! :: A Beer-Gut Reaction to Don Coscarelli's Bubba Ho-Tep (2002)

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"What do I really have left in life but this place? It ain't much of a home, but it's all I got. Well, goddammit. I'll be damned if I let some foreign, graffiti writin', soul suckin' son of a bitch in an over-sized cowboy hat and boots take my friend's souls and shit 'em down the visitors toilet!"

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Author Joe R. Lansdale's writing style is hard to define: twisted, visceral, brutal, frank and funny, and dripping with atmosphere; and most important of all, it has a simple honesty about it that's very endearing -- even though his subject matter tends to be very, very morbid and creepifying. And it is this inability to saddle him that really makes his work resonate for me.

His first novel, Act of Love, about a brutal serial-killer, had me guessing until the very end about the killer's true identity. The Night Runners, a vicious piece of Splatter Punk, is kind of in the same vein -- more like an artery, mind you; the jugular, waiting for The God of the Razor to come collect his due. And his cult classic, The Drive In, has a mysterious, trans-dimensional comet that gulps up the denizens of The Oribit; a massive six-screen drive-in, trapping them there, where all they have to live on is soda, popcorn and -- eventually -- each other. His latest novels, The Bottoms and A Fine Dark Line, are murder mysteries, too; but they're more of a coming of age story as each is told from the perspective of a young boy. Both set in his beloved east Texas, the stories come off as an odd combination of Harper Lee and Stephen King, mixed with the narrative drawl of Joe Bob Briggs, or some other, lethargic good-old-boy spinning tales on the back porch.

I was personally introduced to Lansdale's work when I picked up a copy of Jonah Hex: Two Gun Mojo at the local comic shop. And I liked that wild western tale so much I snagged the sequel, Riders of the Worm and Such, and that led me to tracking down his Lone Ranger and Tonto series, which he and artist Tim Truman also did, earlier, for Topps Comics. Lurking in those pages of "It Crawls" was a story where the legendary lawman and his trusted partner run afoul of a resurrected Aztec Mummy that's rampaging across Texas, leaving many dead bodies in it's wake. And that's one way to describe Lansdale's work ... Who else would have dreamt to have the Lone Ranger and Tonto fighting off an evil mummy from outer space? That's the thing about his writing, though; the situations are completely absurd, but played straight on a razor, with enough nuggets of truth scattered about that one will think that the situation is not only plausible but possible. Which brings us to Don Coscarelli's film, Bubba Ho-Tep, that's based on a Lansdale short-story featured in the Writer of the Purple Rage anthology. The premise of the film? Well, try to get your head around this:


In a retirement home, living under an assumed identity, an aged Elvis Presley (Campbell) is alive but not very well. Seems the Big E was tired of his pill-popping lifestyle and swapped places with an Elvis impersonator; but all traces of this switch were lost in a trailer-park fire. So to the rest of the world, Elvis Presley died back in 1977, but in truth, The Weekly World News was right all along. Saddled with bouts of dementia, a bum hip, and "festering pecker," a forlorn Elvis looks back on his life with much regret. His only friend at the home is Jack. Now Jack (Davis) thinks he is former President John F. Kennedy. The victim of his own conspiracy, Jack is convinced part of his brain was removed, and then he was dyed black and hidden away in Texas as part of some insidious plot hatched by Lyndon Johnson.

Things turn even more sinister when the mortality rate inexplicably spikes at the nursing home. Soon enough, our two semi-incontinent protagonists discover that an ancient Egyptian Mummy is stalking the grounds and sucking out the souls of their elderly roommates. And since no one else would ever believe them, these two legendary figures gear up for one final showdown to try and save the day.

Sounds completely ludicrous doesn't it? Sounds like typical Lansdale to me.


I actually got to see the film during it's limited theatrical run, but sadly, the film never could find a real distributor, and that's too bad because more people really needed to see this film. Bruce Campbell turns in a completely amazing performance as the curmudgeonly and decrepit King of Rock-n-Roll. How good is he? Well, about half way through the film, I honestly forgot that it was Campbell. The scenes where he expresses regret over his life choices, and laments about abandoning his daughter is heart wrenching stuff. After he points a blaming finger at his wife, the Colonel, Dr. Nick, and the other usual suspects, he realizes the biggest culprit in his downfall was himself. Those scenes really got to me, and Campbell's delivery is the reason why. Not really known for his subtlety, he sold me, completely. Campbell's involvement in this independent production could have been either a boon or a bust. Truthfully, the further away we can separate this film from Raimi's trilogy, the better, because those expecting Evil Dead IV, or similar Ash like antics from our boy, could be disappointed -- but, luckily, the film is good enough that you won't care.

The film's real casting coup, though, is Ossie Davis, who brings much weight, spirit and coyness to the Jack character amidst all the surrounding insanity. Like I said before, we believe Elvis is who he says he is, but Jack is a complete loony tune, right? Or is he? Coscarelli leaves all kinds of clues and hints that maybe Jack is telling the truth, too. You just get to the point where you say it's so insane, how can it not be true?


Coscarelli then made the right decision by letting the plot be as absurd as it wants to be, but kept his characters stone cold sober. The actors and characters are so good, and bring such dignity to the scenes that deal with regret, getting old, and the mistreatment of the elderly -- discarding them in homes, where they're treated like helpless children -- that it's a little jarring when we go from that stuff to the soul-sphincter-sucking mummy stuff. And if the film has one flaw, it's that it switches moods from melancholy to manic so quickly, without any kind of transition, it tends to be a bit disjointed in spots.

Still, the film can be looked at and enjoyed on many levels. As a metaphor, absurd escapism, or a touching treatment of growing old, and going out with dignity on your own terms. What it definitely did was overachieve to something far, far greater than it's schlocky trappings. Personally, I like to think of it as Lansdale, Coscarelli, Campbell, and Davis giving these two truly American cult-heroes of the last century -- both enshrouded in scandals while they lived (and even more so after they died) -- who both met tragic deaths long before their time should have been up, a chance to go out in a blaze of glory.


Elvis gets to be the Lone Ranger, mounted on his silver walker, with JFK, his trusty Tonto, right beside him in a motorized wheelchair. Together, they ride to the rescue, and in a sense, ride off into the sunset. It's hysterical ... yet touching, and beautiful all at the same time. That is why at the end, after the villain is vanquished, when a mortally wounded Elvis thanks the stars above for this last opportunity to do something right, this particular web-critic had tears in his eyes.

Hail to the King, indeed.


Bubba Ho-Tep (2002) Silver Sphere Corporation :: Vitagraph Films :: MGM/UA Home Entertainment / EP: Dac Coscarelli / P: Don Coscarelli, Jason R. Savage / D: Don Coscarelli / W: Don Coscarelli. Joe R. Lansdale / C: Adam Janeiro / E: Scott J. Gill, Donald Milne / M: Brian Tyler / S: Bruce Campbell, Ossie Davis, Ella Joyce, Larry Pennell, Edith Jefferson, Heidi Marnhout