The TSL’s Grindhouse: No Way Back (dir by Fred Williamson)

Posted on February 15, 2018 by Lisa Marie Bowman

Jesse Crowder’s back!

You may remember Jesse Crowder as the super cool and unflappable private detective from Death Journey. Jesse was a Los Angeles cop but now he works independently. There’s literally nothing that Jesse can’t do. Ride a horse? Ride a motorcycle? Slow motion kung fu? Jesse can do it all and he usually do it without bothering to button up his shirt. Jesse is such a badass that he can kill more people in the time it takes for him to light a cigar than most people will kill in their entire lifetime.

The 1976 film No Way Back is the second Jesse Crowder film. Once again, Fred Williamson both directs and stars as Jesse. Williamson is in almost every scene of the film and when he’s not killing bad guys or having sex or just posing with his shirt off, he’s listening to people talk about what a badass he is. In short, No Way Back is a vanity project but it’s a vanity project with a sense of humor. Watching the film, you get the feeling that Williamson knows that No Way Back is kind of silly but, at the same time, he’s having fun and he wants everyone watching to have fun too.

No Way Back‘s plot involves a missing man and a lot of money. Henry Pickens (Charles Woolf) worked at a bank but, one day, he grabbed a briefcase full of money, jumped in a car driven by his girlfriend (Tracy Reed), and disappeared. Everyone was shocked but you know who was really shocked? His wife! Mildred Pickens (Virginia Gregg) and Henry’s brother both want to know to where Henry has vanished. They hire Jesse, perhaps finding solace in his catch phrase: “You pay the bill, I’ll deliver it. Legal, illegal, moral or otherwise.”

Not surprisingly, it doesn’t take long for Jesse to figure out that Perkins is in San Francisco. Jesse lights his cigar and heads for the Bay City. However, Jesse isn’t the only one looking for Henry Pickens. There’s also a gangster named Bernie (Stack Pierce) who is determined to get the money for himself. Much as in Death Journey, it doesn’t matter where Jesse goes or how he gets there. As soon as he arrives, he people are trying to kill him. Unfortunately, for them, no one can kill Jesse Crowder.

It all leads to a savage gun battle in the desert. Fred Williamson jumps up on a horse, unbuttons his shirt, and rides across the screen. People are betrayed. People get shot. Fortunately, no one can touch Jesse Crowder…

Anyway, No Way Back doesn’t really make any sense. If you happen to watch this film (and I saw it on YouTube), just try to keep track of why Henry stole all of that money in the first place. However, the plot isn’t really that important. This film is all about Fred Williamson beating up gangsters and walking around without a shirt on. It’s a dumb action movie but it never pretends to be anything different and the film’s total lack of pretension is enjoyable. That’s always a good thing.

Cleaning Out The DVR Yet Again #40: Melinda (dir by Hugh A. Robertson)

Posted on December 9, 2016 by Lisa Marie Bowman

(Lisa recently discovered that she only had about 8 hours of space left on her DVR! It turns out that she’s been recording movies from July and she just hasn’t gotten around to watching and reviewing them yet. So, once again, Lisa is cleaning out her DVR! She is going to try to watch and review 52 movies by the end of 2017! Will she make it? Keep checking the site to find out!)

I recorded Melinda off of TCM on November 13th.

First released in 1972, Melinda is technically a murder mystery. Frankie J. Parker (Calvin Lockhart, giving a brilliant performance) is a popular radio DJ in Los Angeles. When we first see Frankie, he’s driving his expensive sportscar through a poor neighborhood. It’s a neighborhood that he knows well but, as opposed to those around him, he’s made it out. He’s handsome, slick, and more than a little arrogant. When he arrives at a local gym, he looks at himself in a mirror and says, “I shouldn’t say it … but I am a pretty motherfucker.” Frankie’s a student in a taekwondo class taught by Charles Atkins (Jim Kelly). Charles gives Frankie a hard time about not giving back to the community. Frankie blows off his concerns. To be honest, we really should dislike Frankie but he’s so damn charming. As played by Calvin Lockhart, Frankie has one of those irresistible smirks, the type of the lights up the screen.

One night, Frankie meets the mysterious Melinda (Vonetta McGee) and spends the night with her. He thinks that it’s just going to be another one night stand but Melinda tells Frankie that he has the potential to be more than he realizes. Touched, Frankie goes to work and resolves to be a better person. Then he returns home and discovers that Melinda has been murdered!

The rest of the film deals with Frankie’s attempts to discover who murdered Melinda. It turns out that Melinda had underworld connections and mob boss Mitch (Paul Stevens) is desperate to recover something that Melinda had in her possession when she died. But honestly, the whole murder subplot is a MacGuffin (if you want to get all Hitchcockian about it). Ultimately, Melinda is a character study of Frankie Parker and how, over the course of solving Melinda’s murder, he learns that there’s more to life than just looking out for himself.

Though Melinda was obviously made to capitalize on the blaxploitation craze of the early 70s, it’s actually far more low-key than most of the better known films in the genre. (Or, at least it is until the karate-filled finale.) Perhaps because it was directed by a black man and written by noted black playwright Lonne Elder III, Melinda is far more interested in exploring what makes its characters who they are, as opposed to just putting a gun in their hand and having them shoot up the screen. Frankie Parker emerges as a fascinating character.

Mention should also be made of the performance of Rosalind Cash, who plays Terry, Frankie’s ex. Cash gets an absolutely amazing scene where, while attempting to convince a bank employee that she’s Melinda so that she can get into Melinda’s safe deposit box, she tells off a rude teller. It’s such a good scene and Cash delivers her lines with such fury that you find yourself forgetting that the teller was actually correct in her suspicion that Terry wasn’t actually who she said she was.

Melinda is probably one of the best films that hardly anyone has ever heard of. Keep an eye out for it.

Embracing the Melodrama Part II #46: Walking Tall (dir by Phil Karlson)

Posted on April 28, 2015 by Lisa Marie Bowman

About 50 minutes into the 1973 film Walking Tall (not to be confused with the 2005 version that starred Dwayne Johnson), there’s a scene in which newly elected sheriff Buford Pusser (Joe Don Baker) gives a speech to his deputies. As the deputies stand at attention and as Pusser announces that he’s not going to tolerate any of his men taking bribes from the Dixie Mafia, the observant viewer will notice something out-of-place about the scene.

Hovering directly above Baker’s head is a big, black, almost phallic boom mic. It stays up there throughout the entire scene, a sudden and unexpected reminder that — though the film opens with a message that we’re about to see the true story of “an American hero” and though it was filmed on location in rural Tennessee — Walking Tall is ultimately a movie.

And yet, somehow, that phallic boom mic feels oddly appropriate. First off, Walking Tall is an almost deliberately messy film. That boom mic tells us that Walking Tall was not a slick studio production. Instead, much like Phil Karlson’s previous The Phenix City Story, it was a low-budget and violent film that was filmed on location in the south, miles away from the corrupting influence of mainstream, yankee-dominated Hollywood. Secondly, the phallic implications of the boom mic erases any doubt that Walking Tall is a film about men doing manly things, like shooting each other and beating people up. Buford does have a wife (Elizabeth Hartman) who begs him to avoid violence and set a good example of his children. However, she eventually gets shot in the back of the head, which frees Buford up to kill.

As I said earlier, Walking Tall opens with a message telling us that we’re about to watch a true story. Buford Pusser is a former football player and professional wrestler who, after retiring, returns to his hometown in Tennessee. He quickly discovers that his town is controlled by criminals and moonshiners. When he goes to a local bar called The Lucky Spot, he is unlucky enough to discover that the bar’s patrons cheat at cards. Buford is nearly beaten to death and dumped on the side of the road. As Buford begs for help, several motorists slow down to stare at him before then driving on.

Obviously, if anyone’s going to change this town, it’s going to have to be Buford Pusser.

Once he recovers from his beating, Buford makes himself a wooden club and then goes back to the Lucky Spot. After beating everyone up with his club, Buford takes back the money that he lost while playing cards and $50.00 to cover his medical bills. When Buford is put on trial for armed robbery, he takes the stand, rips off his shirt, and shows the jury his scars. Buford is acquitted.

Over his wife’s objections, Buford decides to run for sheriff. The old sheriff, not appreciating the competition, attempts to assassinate Buford but, instead, ends up dying himself. Buford is charged with murder. Buford is acquitted. Buford is elected sheriff. Buford sets out to clean up his little section of Tennessee. Violence follows…

On the one hand, it’s easy to be snarky about a film like Walking Tall. This is one of those films that operates on a strictly black-and-white world view. Anyone who supports Buford is good. Anyone who opposes Buford is totally evil. Buford is a redneck saint. It’s a film fueled by testosterone and it’s not at all subtle…

But dangit, I liked Walking Tall. It’s a bit like a right-wing version of Billy Jack, in that it’s so sincere that you can forgive the film’s technical faults and frequent lapses in logic. Walking Tall was filmed on location in Tennessee and director Phil Karlson makes good use of the rural locations. And, most importantly, Joe Don Baker was the perfect actor to play Buford Pusser. As played by Baker, Pusser is something of renaissance redneck. He’s a smart family man who knows how to kick ass and how to make his own weapons. What more could you ask for out of a small town sheriff?

In real life, Buford Pusser died in a mysterious car accident shortly after the release of Walking Tall. Cinematically, the character of Buford Pusser went on to star in two more films.