i hate Carrie Bradshaw & i have absolutely no desire to go see "Sex And The City." i find the thought of another Patricia Fields extravaganza nauseating... on the other hand, Cinefamily at the Silent Movie Theater (which happens to have great sound) presents:
holyfuckingshit: disco fever dreams
Saturdays in June at 10:15pm
The allure of the ‘70s discotheque was that it was a sensuous fun fair for adults, a magnanimous multi-colored playground onto which folks of all kinds could project their weekend fantasies of drugs, drink, dancing and doin’ it. For most people, the Saturday night disco was an interstellar escape, where everyone’s a shiny alien sequined superstar, oozing with positive energy, self-confidence and bad cologne. The disco films of the era took that vibe and vigorously shook it all over the screen, keeping the party train rolling from out of the clubs and into the cinema, in the face of all rational thought. Like the best club music, these movies are not made to be experienced at home, but should be seen in the throbbing party atmosphere of Holyfuckingshit! Get out, come to the theatre, we’ll be playing these doozies LOUD. And don’t forget – we only have a tiny bathroom, so no screwing in the stalls or doing rails off the sink. Do that shit in your car.
It boggles our minds that Xanadu is currently getting the high-profile off-Broadway revisit treatment rather than The Apple, for The Apple is ten times gaudier, and a gazillion times stranger. Set in the "near-future" of 1994, this absurd-o Biblical allegory concerns the perils of young Canadian couple of Alphie and Bibi, who enter a Eurovision-like global music contest and are discovered by the malicious Mr. Boogalow, the Satanical manager of The BIM (an all-powerful fascistic funk band), who exploits them for his own ungodly gain. If that already sounds like a hoot, toss into the mix gay henchmen, bad accents, chorus-girl fire squads, circus acts, disco odes to amphetamines, hippies, sequined jock straps, kvetching yentas, clothed orgies, Carpenters rip-offs, flying Cadillacs, and a jivin' production number set in the depths of Hell -- all brought to you by director Menahem Golan, also responsible for Over The Top and The Delta Force!
Dir. Menahem Golan, 1980, 35mm, 86 min.Tickets - $10
6/14 @ 10:15pm / Can't Stop the Music
The most shocking thing about Can’t Stop The Music, the Village People quasi-biopic, is neither that Felipe The Indian chooses to wear his headdress out on the street as casually as a baseball cap, nor that David The Construction Worker at one point sings a ballad called “I Love You To Death” to a…female?, but rather that their co-star Bruce Jenner manages to come off even more enjoyably leaden than fellow athlete-turned-actor Shaquille O’ Neill. Riding high off his success in the late ‘70s with Grease, flamboyant producer Allan Carr next turned his attention to the Village People, hired (of all people) aging “Rhoda” co-star Nancy Walker to direct, and turned out this startling paean to glitter, milkshakes, Halston couture and split-screen musical numbers. Worth the price of admission alone is the “YMCA” sequence, a Busby Berkeley-style love letter to athleticism and gay bathhouse frolicking that’ll leave you scratching your head so furiously, your scalp will come off in your hand.
Dir. Nancy Walker, 1980, 35mm, 124 min.Tickets - $10
6/21 @ 10:15pm / Disco Godfather
The one-and-only Rudy Ray Moore aka Dolemite aka Petey Wheatstraw drives the cinema train straight off the tracks with Disco Godfather, the world’s only kung fu dance party anti-angel-dust comedy. Rudy stars as an ex-cop turned popular DJ/nightclub owner, who grabs the viewer’s attention by the kidneys from his first astounding and jiggly purple-suited entrance. When his nephew gets all strung out on PCP, hallucinating something fierce, he dives headfirst into the equally ridiculously garbed underworld to investigate, to almost no positive effect whatsoever. The film is a trademark heady mix of kick-ass distended elements, a blend of serious anti-drug talk, dance, martial arts and Rudy’s repetitive catchphrases (“Put A Little Slide In Yo’ Glide” and the truly haunting “Put Your Weight On It!”), which moved one anonymous Internet reviewer to write: “This movie was like witnessing the Civil War. It was loud, hard to understand what people were saying, and downright horrifying.”
Dir. J. Robert Wagoner, 1979, 35mm, 93 min.Tickets - $10
6/28 @ 10:15pm / Skatetown U.S.A.
The Caligula of rollerskate movies! Dozens of movie clichés are thrown in a blender and then poured all over a mirror ball and refracted onto the Skatetown U.S.A. roller rink, where everyone from Flip Wilson to Billy Barty to Scott Baio to Ruth Buzzi to Dorothy Stratton collide headfirst with Patrick Swayze (in a smoldering debut as bad boy disco skate gang leader “Ace”.) This insane and entertaining movie has romance, drug humor, blindsiding slapstick violence and a motorized skate race on a pier that compares with the chariot race in Ben Hur, but staffed by Air Supply lookalikes. Alongside the garish clothes and DJs magically shooting lasers out their fingers is some honestly terrific skate choreography — and Marcia Brady making out with Horshak from “Welcome Back, Kotter.” In short, it’s The Rock and Roller Disco Movie Of The Year.
Dir. William A. Levey, 1979, 35mm, 98 min.Tickets - $10
