Stuart Lancaster | Through the Shattered Lens

Occasionally, before the main movie starts, the Alamo Drafthouse will show a clip from an old movie. In this clip, a picnic is ruined by the sudden appearance of a giant mutant sheep. Everyone screams while the sheep stares at them with that passive sheep look. Whenever this clip is shown, the audience laughs. And it is pretty silly, especially when it’s seen devoid of any another context.

Myself, I have to admit that I’m always amused when that clip is shown because I know that I’m probably one of the few people in the audience who knows that the scene comes from a 1973 film called Godmonster of Indian Flats. Thanks to Something Weird Video, I have actually seen the entire film and I know that it’s probably the best movie ever made about a giant mutant sheep.

Of course, it’s also the only movie ever made about a giant mutant sheep.

Having sat through Godmonster a handful of times, I’m assuming that it was meant to be satirical. At least, I hope it was meant to be a satire.

While Godmonster may be best known as being a film about mutant sheep, the majority of the movie’s screen time is actually devoted to the culture of the town of Virginia City, Nevada. Virginia City is a tourist town, where everyone dresses like they belong in the old west and where tourists enjoy watching carefully staged gunfights and hanging out at the old-fashioned saloon/brothel. The mayor of the town is evil old Mayor Silverdale (exploitation vet Stuart Lancaster). Mayor Silverdale is determined to keep the town in the past and, as such, he is upset when a real estate agent named Barnstable (Christopher Brooks) shows up and starts trying to convince people to sell their land.

So, Mayor Silverdale and Sheriff Gordon (Robert Hirschfield, who has some truly impressive sideburns) decide to frame Barnstable for murder. It turns out that Gordon owns a dog who knows how to play dead. One day, when they see Barnstable engaged in target practice, Gordon shouts, “YOU SHOT MY DOG!” The dog rolls over and plays dead. Everyone in town believes that Barnstable murdered Gordon’s dog and it turns out that everyone in town loved that dog. They even have a funeral, with a tiny casket.

(Don’t worry, the casket’s empty. As Gordon explains to Silverdale, the dog is visiting relatives in the next town over.)

So, the entire town decides to practice some frontier justice on Barnstable. However, as the mob chases after Barnstable, they end up stumbling across a laboratory. And, inside the lab, is a mutant. 8-foot tall sheep. The sheep escapes the lab and one member of the lynching party is accidentally killed. The town blames the sheep but actually, the sheep is a gentle, well-meaning mutant. Meanwhile, Mayor Silverdale views the sheep as another way to make money…

It’s up to Prof. Clemens (E. Kerrigan Prescott) and his hippie assistant, Mariposa (Karen Ingenthron) to protect the sheep. But where did the sheep come from? Well, Clemens explains that it all has to do with toxic nerve gas and ecological destruction…

Anyway, I’m probably making Godmonster of Indian Flats sound more interesting than it actually is. It’s never as much fun as you would expect a movie about a giant sheep to be. But, even with that in mind, where else are you going to see a giant sheep wandering throughout the desert?

Seriously, this is one of those movies that you should see at least once. It may not be any good but it is one of a kind.

For the past few days, I’ve been in the process of reviewing 94 films about politics and politicians. With that in mind, you may be wondering why, after reviewing films like The Last Hurrah, Sunrise at Campobello, and Advise & Consent, I am now reviewing a 1967 biker film called The Born Losers.

It all comes down to Billy Jack. In the 70s, Tom Laughlin would write, direct, and star in two hit films — Billy Jack and The Trial of Billy Jack. In these films, Laughlin played the title character. Billy Jack was everything that you could hope for in a counter-culture hero. First off, as an American Indian, he was an authentic American as opposed to just another European intruder. He was a war hero, who had served as a Green Beret in Vietnam. He often carried a gun with him, which meant that he understood and supported the 2nd Amendment and good for him! Billy Jack was also a master of hapkido, which meant that he could kick ass in the most visually appealing way possible.

Even more importantly, Billy Jack called the Man out on his racism and his intolerance. Billy Jack was an environmental activist before anyone else. Billy Jack went on vision quests. Billy Jack was anti-war. Billy Jack was a pacifist. And, of course, Billy Jack ended up killing a lot of people but they were all bad guys.

By making and distributing Billy Jack himself, Laughlin became an independent film pioneer and made history. He also became a counter-culture hero and Billy Jack remains a cult figure even today. But what a lot of people don’t realize is that Billy Jack first appeared in Born Losers and that, in the little seen Billy Jack Goes To Washington, he eventually ended up serving in the U.S. Senate.

When you consider that Billy Jack would eventually be Sen. Jack, that means the Born Losers isn’t just a low-budget, violent biker film. Instead, it’s the exploitation version of Young Mr. Lincoln. It’s a chance to see what Billy Jack was doing before he became a statesman.

(And rest assured, the other three Billy Jack films will be reviewed before Shattered Politics ends.)

As we discover at the start of Born Losers, pre-politics Billy Jack was just an enigmatic veteran who lived in the mountains of California. When we first see Billy, he’s walking along a grassy hill. A deer safely runs by the camera. A rabbit pops its head out of a hole in the ground and looks relieved to see Billy. If I’m being a little bit snarky, it’s because I’ve seen all of the Billy Jack films and I know how often this exact scene is played out over the course of the franchise. But, in all fairness, it’s actually a fairly well-done and visually appealing scene and, as an actor, Laughlin had the presence to pull it off.

A far less pretty scene is occurring in the town of Big Rock, where teenagers are showing up to hang out on the beach and are being harassed by a group of bikers, the Born Losers of the title. The Born Losers are an odd collection of bikers, with half of them looking like extras from Sons of Anarchy and the other half looking like the type of hipsters that I always see whenever I go to a movie at the Alamo Drafthouse. Their leader (Jeremy Slate) is named Danny but the rest of the gang are known by their nicknames.

(For instance, there’s Crabs. Why is he called Crabs? “Because he’s got them!” Danny helpfully explains.)

After the Born Losers rape four girls, they launch a campaign of violence and intimidation to keep the girls from testifying in court. Billy comes to the aid of one of the girls, Vicky (Elizabeth James, who also wrote the script). I related to Vicky, largely because she does things like ride a motorcycle while wearing a white bikini, which is exactly the sort of thing that I would do if I lived in California.

Now, there’s a lot of negative things that I could say about Born Losers. It’s talky. With the exception of Laughlin and Slate, it’s obvious that the majority of the cast was made up of amateurs. The final half of the film drags as you wait for an ending that you have probably already predicted.

But you know what?

I actually like The Born Losers. Hidden underneath all of the exploitation trappings and heavy-handed moralizing, this is a very sincere film. Whatever they may have lacked in budget or subtlety, Laughlin’s films made up for in sincerity. And, as strange as it may be to say about a film that features four rapes and is padded out with a thoroughly gratuitous striptease, The Born Losers is not a misogynistic film. Both Laughlin the director and Billy Jack the character are on the side of the victims of the Born Losers and when the film calls out society for blaming the victims instead of the rapists, it does so with a fury that elevates the entire film above your typical 1967 biker film.

And, while I don’t know if I’d ever vote for Billy Jack, there’s nobody I’d rather have on my side.