Along with the rasp of cicadas, the flashburn of bare feet on baking bitumen and the icy tongue-tingle of a Sunnyboy triangle, I’ll forever associate long Aussie summers with hours spent watching schlocky movies. As a kid, there was no better escape from the heat than a TV matinee screening of B-grade monsters like Tarantula and Them, in front of a whirring fan.
When night stayed as hot as day, there was similar spooky relief in a weekly ‘creature feature’, with its rotation of gorier, saucier fare like Piranha, Lust for a Vampire and God Told Me to. Today, with free-to-air airwaves filled with great tranches of mindless reality TV, it’s a blessing DVD shelves are filled with such guilty pleasures: they hold gems for first-time schlockers, or gems to revisit when the mercury’s soaring, the beer is cold, and you don’t want to think as much as dive into cinematic silliness.
It doesn’t have to be old stuff to get with the vibe, either. Quentin Tarantino and Robert Rodriguez’s Grindhouse, now available in its four-disc glory, including the fake trailers and scratches of its original US cinema release, is a perfect modern mood setter. Evil Dead fans, meanwhile, will revel in Drag Me to Hell, Sam Raimi’s return to hammy horror. For only slightly more vintage cheese, you could do worse than Snakes on a Plane and Slither, both hugely entertaining tongue-in-homage action-horrors.
Older flicks offer brain-addled delights too. The three-disc Invaders from Outer Space collection contains the marvellous Brain from Planet Arous, Robot Monster and Invasion of the Saucermen, all ‘so-bad-they’re-great’ ’50s classics. See that black and white sci-fi era sent up beautifully in 2001’s affectionate and infectious Lost Skeleton of Cadavra.
Even funnier, albeit unintentionally, and perfect for a day after the beach, are the riotously awful super-shark flicks Jaws: The Revenge and Megaladon: Shark Attack 3. If you feel patriotic on Australia Day, you’ll spray VB out of your nostrils during Howling III: The Marsupials – which may as well be called An Outback Werewolf in Sydney. Then try out big pig flick Razorback. Patrick and Rogue offer cheddary home-grown versions of the classics Carrie and Jaws.
For an overview of these and several other ‘Ozploitation’ flicks watch (or re-watch) the wonderful documentary Not Quite Hollywood. There are hundreds of other guilty pleasures awaiting. Here’s a tip to cap the experience: put the TV outside, invite some mates over, stock the esky and stage your own B-grade ‘outdoor cinema’. Warn the neighbours of loud cheers and roaring laughter!
(Michael Adams’ comic memoir on bad movies, Showgirls, Teen Wolves and Astro Zombies, is in bookstores now.)
