I noticed this last night. Ridley Scott is a Cinema God, and I should be cast out for nitpicking his genre-defining masterpiece. (If you need to ask which movie I am talking about, I’m not sure we can be friends.)
But the word nerd in me needs to point out that the computer here probably meant “ensure” instead of “insure.”
Marvel Comics.
THERE IS A STRANGE MAN IN MY HOUSE.
That’s okay, though — it’s me.
Pop Rocks!!! These fizzy little candies had a genuine mystique to little kids in the late 1970’s — and they were pretty damned good too! (I am linking here to the Bionic Disco Youtube channel for the video.)
Of course, no reminiscence about Pop Rocks could leave out the morbid, wide-eyed awe we kids felt at the fate of poor Mikey, the beloved little brother in the classic Life Cereal commercials. The finicky tike had perished horribly after a concoction of Pop Rocks and soda had literally exploded his stomach.
It was all bullshit, of course — and maybe the first example of pervasive “fake news” affecting me in my lifetime. But the bizarre and grisly myth got the harmless candy yanked right off the market after sales plummeted.
Does anyone else remember the original “Going In Style” (1979), with George Burns, Art Carney and Lee Strasburg? It was a really funny movie in which three old men become bank robbers.
It got its share of air time on 1980’s television; it was actually a big family favorite. I’d been looking around for information about it for years (because movie trivia keeps me up at night), but I remembered the title wrong — I kept thinking of “The Sunshine Boys” (1975), which was a different George Burns movie entirely.
They actually remade the movie 2017 with Morgan Freeman, Michael Caine and Alan Arkin.
Weird world — Laura Branigan wasn’t the first vocalist to perform her signature song, “Gloria” (1982). It was originally an Italian pop song performed in 1979 by Umberto Tozzi. (That’s the second video below.)
Anyway, for a lot of people in my age bracket, this remains a quintessential 80’s tune. Branigan even performed it in the Macy’s Thanksgiving Day Parade the year it was released. I still remember people commenting about how beautiful she looked.
If you’re wondering whatever happened to Branigan, there’s a bit of a sad postscript here — she died in her sleep at a relatively young age, 52, from an undiagnosed brain aneurysm. By that time she’d become a fellow Long Islander; she’d been living in East Quogue.
DC Comics.
Ace.
I, for one, think the Vice President performed remarkably well at last night’s debate — especially right after being harassed by demons at that house in Amityville.
“The Beastmaster” (1982) was THE movie that captured the imaginations of grade-school boys in the 1980’s. There were summer afternoons when this was the single biggest topic of conversation.
I almost wrote here that the movie was an obvious knockoff of the far-better-remembered “Conan the Barbarian;” that is how I’ve always remembered it. But the Internet informs me that they hit theaters only months apart. Wikipedia also informs me that “The Beastmaster” was actually a commercial failure, and that its two sequels and its television adaptation (all in the 1990’s) were aimed at a subsequent cult following spawned by the original movie’s appearance on 80’s TV. (I’m pretty sure that’s how my friends and I saw it.) What the hell was wrong with 1982 audiences, anyway? Was it something in the water? “Blade Runner” and John Carpenter’s “The Thing” were also flops that year — and those were some the best science fiction movies of all time. Talk about pearls before swine.
Anyway, please understand — “Conan the Barbarian” was inarguably the better film. No matter how much it polarized critics and audiences, that dour, violent, R-rated movie was intended as a serious adaptation of Robert E. Howard’s literary source material.
“The Beastmaster,” on the other hand, was campier stuff that was firmly aimed at kids. (I was surprised to learn that it had its own literary source material, but its B-movie wackiness only followed those books very loosely.) It had a PG rating and was jam-packed with garishly grotesque monsters that would thrill a fourth grade boy — the animalistic berzkers were what really got under my skin; my friends were more unnerved by the … bat-people. (There is a simple but quite effective 80’s-era practical effect that show how these baddies digest a victim alive. You kinda have to see the movie to know what I mean.) Hell, even the witches were a little creepy, and witches were not high on our list of things that were scary. I honestly think the film’s success owes a lot to its successful incorporation of horror movie elements designed to impress the younger set.
“The Beastmaster” starred Marc Singer, who went on to star in another 80’s phenomenon, television’s “V” series. (I might have loved “V” even more than “The Beastmaster.”) The movie also starred Tanya Roberts, who was another quite popular topic among gradeschool boys in the 80’s. John Amos starred in a supporting role, and he did a really good job of it. A lot of my older friends will remember him as the grouchy Dad in the “Good Times” (1974-1979); 80’s kids might point him out as the owner of “McDowell’s” in 1988’s “Coming to America.”
I really am curious to find out how well “The Beastmaster” has held up over time. I was surprised to discover that there is a great copy of it here on Youtube. (Thanks, VHS Drive-In.) You can bet that I’m watching it this weekend.
Eric Robert Nolan, Author 