Ask FlickChick

Question: I have always wondered what's being said during the Hunyak portion of "Cell Block Tango" in Chicago. Could you find out? — Naomi

FlickChick: The way in which Hunyak's (Ekaterina Chtchelkanova) story is presented in dance makes it clear that she is different from the other "merry murderesses" of Chicago's Cook County Jail. During the "Cell Block Tango" number, each has a pas de deux with the man she was convicted of killing, and the numbers spell out what the women's pro forma protestations don't: Liz killed her husband, Bernie, with a pair of "warning shots" that happened to catch him squarely in the head; Annie poisoned her two-timing boyfriend, Ezekial Young; June stabbed her jealous husband, Wilbur (sorry, he ran into her kitchen knife... 10 times) and Mona strangled her cheating boyfriend, Al Lipschitz. Velma (Catherine Zeta-Jones) doesn't deny shooting her two-timing husband and sister, but simply says she "doesn't remember" having done it. Yeah, right.

But Hunyak has a tender pas de deux with her husband that gives no hint as to how he died, and the inescapable conclusion is that she doesn't know because she's the only one of the women who didn't do it. Hunyak's only words in English are "not guilty," but she does have a verse in Hungarian:

Mit keresek, en itt?
Azt monjak hogy a hires lakem lefogta a ferjement en meg lecsaptam a fejet.
De nem igaz, en artatlan vagyok.
Nem tudom miert mondja Uncle Sam hogy en tettem.
Probaltam a rendorsegen megmagyarazni de nem ertettek meg.

It translates:

What am doing here?
They say my famous lover [see below] held down my husband while I chopped off his head.
But it isn't true, I am innocent.
I don't know why Uncle Sam says I did it.
I tried to explain at the police station but they didn't understand me.

No, I don't speak Hungarian. But someone at the Hungarian Tourist Board was kind enough to do a translation for me. There is some question about the word lakem, which appears in every written version of the lyrics I've been able to locate. Apparently it's not a Hungarian word, and should probably by either lelkem (lover) or lakom (boarder) — lelkem makes more sense in context. There's no doubt about the cutting-off-the-head part, though.

I was pleasantly surprised to open my e-mail and find a friendly note from scream queen Debbie Rochon, who's been reading some of my old columns. Specifically, she was reading this posting from back in the day:

Question: Is Ladies and Gentlemen, the Fabulous Stains ever going to come out on DVD? I saw it a couple of times on late-night cable during the 1980s and thought it was great; if I remember correctly, the star is a very young Diane Lane. It might not be as good as I remember, but I would love to have it in my DVD collection. -- Andrew

FlickChick: So would I, but Ladies and Gentlemen, the Fabulous Stains (1982) has never been commercially released on DVD and though I've heard that it was briefly available on VHS, I've never seen an actual videotape; it used to play on cable television with some regularity. So far Paramount doesn't seem to be making any progress towards bringing it out on DVD (though there are VHS and DVD bootlegs kicking around online) -- rumor has it that rights clearances for the music are a big part of the problem. I actually saw Ladies and Gentlemen when it was released theatrically, although I think this is the kind of movie for which the phrase "It wasn't released -- it escaped" was coined. It is one of the least-polished films ever bankrolled by a major studio -- Paramount -- and was directed by The Rocky Horror Picture Show's (1975) Lou Adler. It chronicles the rise and precipitous fall of an all-girl punk band, The Stains, played by Marin Kanter (Tracy Burns), Diane Lane (Corinne "Third Degree" Burns) and Laura Dern (Jessica McNeil). Lane and Dern were 17 and 15, respectively, and the cast includes real-life punk rockers Fee Waybill of The Tubes, Paul Simonon of The Clash, and Paul Cook and Steve Jones of The Sex Pistols. Christine Lahti has a small role, and an uncredited Brent Spiner has a smaller one as Corinne's boss. Scream queen Debbie Rochon swears that she made her movie debut at age 13 in this movie as one of the "Skunkettes" who model their outrageous clothes and two-tone mohawks on those of Lane's character. Overall, it's a pretty amazing little movie.

And now here's what Debbie has to say:

Hey, Maitland! Read your story about the Stains, and yes indeed, I spent three months on the set working on the film. I have a bunch of awesome photos from it, too. You can check out the documentary that was made on the movie at www.FabulousStains.com. They are working towards putting a DVD out now. There's a good chance it might actually happen this time. Best, Debbie Rochon

The bad news is that fabulousstains.com is under construction and there's nothing on it right now except a fantastic picture of Diane Lane and a Quicktime clip. But a shred of hope is better than no hope at all!

Question: Can you please tell me the title of this film? It stars Nureyev and a black actor/dancer — I don't know his name. The black guy and his wife are trying to get Nureyev out of Russia, and clips of the film were featured in the video of Lionel Ritchie's "Say You Say Me." Hope someone can help. Thanks. — Lily

FlickChick: The movie you're thinking of is White Nights (1985), but the real-life ballet star isn't (tall, dark-haired) Rudolf Nureyev: It's his contemporary, (short, blond) Mikhail Baryshnikov. Baryshnikov's costar is actor/tap dancer Gregory Hines; The film was directed by Taylor Hackford and featured original choreography by Twyla Tharp. White Nights was a late addition to a small spate of dance-oriented films made in the late 1970s amd '80s that included The Turning Point (which also featured Baryshnikov), Nijinsky (with American Ballet Theater star George de la Pena) and Slow Dancing in the Big City.

Though I really do like all kinds of movies, all four of this posting's questions are about horror pictures that have been haunting readers (OK, one is creepy, not horror per se, but more on that in a moment). I can identify three, but the fourth is a mystery to me, so I'm opening up this forum to suggestions on that one.

Question: I recently saw Rosemary's Baby for the first time and loved it — Ruth Gordon was simply amazing. I read somewhere that there was a TV-movie sequel made of it, but I can't find any information on it. Is it true that there was a follow-up? — LATVGuy

FlickChick: I too am a big fan of Rosemary's Baby (1968), and all I have to do is read the title to have that lullaby stuck on "repeat" in my brain for the rest of the day. Seriously, it's a terrific example of what a top-flight director and a really terrific cast — respectively, Roman Polanski, Mia Farrow, John Cassavetes, Ruth Gordon (who richly deserved her best-supporting-actress Oscar), Sidney Blackmer, Maurice Evans, Ralph Bellamy, Charles Grodin, and Elisha Cook Jr. — can make of fairly thin material.
There was indeed a made-for-TV sequel called Look What's Happened to Rosemary's Baby (1976), directed by veteran film editor Sam O'Steen, whose credits as a cutter include Rosemary's Baby. Although novelist Ira Levin later wrote his own sequel to Rosemary's Baby, the movie sequel was made from an original teleplay by an undistinguished TV writer, Anthony Wilson, and even having seen it only once, I vividly remember what a disappointment it was. And that's allowing for the fact that I came to it with pretty low expectations. The film picks up a few years after the first, with Rosemary (Patty Duke, taking over for Farrow) trying to counteract her child's satanic DNA, until she vanishes in a driverless bus. Little Adrian is adopted by a madame and grows haunted by his destiny and hunted by members of the coven. Gordon returns as Minnie Castavets and is pretty shrill and awful; Ray Milland took over the part of her husband, Roman — Blackmer having died in 1973. Stephen McHattie plays the grown devil-child. Keep an eye on the late-night listings and get ready to TiVo it if you're still curious.

Question: I'm trying to find the title of a slasher flick from the '80s (I believe) about a bunch of miners trapped below ground who are slowly being picked off by another pickax-wielding miner. All I remember is the ending, where the bad guy's leg gets crushed in a rock fall and he drags himself back into the mine, never to be seen again (perhaps to return in a sequel). It was a horrifying flick that left an indelible mark on me. I'd love to see it again; can you help? — TW

FlickChick: You're looking for My Bloody Valentine (1981), one of a spate of holiday-themed thrillers made in the wake of Halloween (1978). Set in the mining town of Valentine Bluffs, it features a killer who was driven mad when he got trapped in a mine during the annual Valentine's Day celebrations and resorted to cannibalism before finally being rescued. The piece of the plot you remember takes place in the last third of the movie, after the killer has already cut a broad swath through the local teenagers and sent their bleeding hearts to the police in heart-shaped candy boxes.

And then there's this oddity:

Question: On several occasions I have searched the net for hours on end looking for a certain movie, but to no avail. I recall seeing it in the mid-'80s on television, but I don't think it was a made-for-TV movie. The main character was a musician (a flute player?) and after a show/concert (which may have taken place outside, in a park-like setting, at night), he met an older couple who hosted some kind of revival thing on the outskirts of town in a large white tent. He wasn't allowed to enter, but his girlfriend was; what happened in the tent was never shown, but it seemed they were converting/brain-washing all these people into following them. Next, their followers are taken to the desert to what seemed like an old farm or something; one at a time they go into a silo and come out acting like mindless drones who believe this older couple can do no wrong. The main character gets some of them to escape with him on a bus, but it breaks down and they snap into zombie mode and go back to the farm. The main character returns with help, but the farm is deserted, as though no one had ever been there. At the end, time has passed and the musician is attending another concert, apparently hoping the older couple will be there so he can stop them this time around. I want to say the title was something like "The Odd Pair" or "The Strange Ones," and any insight would be much appreciated. — SuperJosh

FlickChick: Until a couple of years ago I wouldn't have had a clue, but after interviewing veteran horror writer-director Gary Sherman, I tracked down his obscure made-for-TV movie The Mysterious Two, which was made in 1979 but didn't air until 1982. It starred John Forsythe (the voice of Charlie on Charlie's Angels) and Priscilla Pointer as the culty couple, and it was intended as a pilot for a never-made series and doesn't seem to have been shown frequently. What makes it interesting now is that Sherman was inspired by stories about a particular couple who had convinced their followers that they would one day be whisked away from earth by extraterrestrials. The film turned up on a small video label in 1997, shortly after news reports of a mass suicide by members of a cult called Heaven's Gate, who believed a spaceship cruising in the wake of the Hale-Bopp comet was coming for them. Their leader, Marshall Applewhite, and his late wife, Bonnie Lu Nettles, were the couple whom Sherman heard about nearly 20 years earlier. Not a horror movie, but spooky.

And finally, the one I can't identify — if you know what this movie is, please share!

Question: I have a stumper for you. I remember a creepy little movie, I think from the late 1970s, but I have no idea who was in it. There was a lab with jars of dead babies and embryos, and at the end a guy struggles with a woman who worked in the lab over a syringe. A jar with a dead baby in it shatters, the baby slides across the floor, the woman gets stabbed with the needle and begins to rapidly age and die. That's all I can remember, and it's been driving me crazy for years! — Bryan

Question: Why do made-for-TV movies have a bad reputation? I've seen some really good ones, including House of the Dead 2, which was by far better than the [theatrically released] original. — Unwantedhero

Sometimes I'll see a movie on TV — perhaps a "SciFi Original" or "Family Channel Original" — that was definitely not made specifically for SciFi or Family Channel, as there are words obviously edited out. So my question is, for whom are these movies really made? Who is the intended market or audience? What are actors, such as Dean Cain or Gina Torres, told about these movies beforehand, and who pays them? Thanks, O mighty Flickchick! — Gena

FlickChick: And just apropos of TV-movies... the following two readers are looking for a pair of made-for-TV movies that people have been asking me about ever since I first began writing Ask FlickChick in 1999.

Question: When I was younger, back in the '80s, I saw a movie about two sisters. One was evil and tied her sister's shoes together while they were in the family car, and when the car blew up she couldn't escape and died. Then the dead, good sister came back to haunt the evil one. Any idea of the name of this movie? I would love to see it again, and it's driving me nuts. — Jackie

What was the movie where that ugly doll-thing came to life and went after a lady in her house with a butcher knife? At the end you saw the woman, crazy, sitting on the floor with a knife and jabbing at the floor. — Teddi

FlickChick: Let's start with the broader questions. Made-for-TV movies have a bad reputation because an awful lot of them are, at best, second-rate. They tend — and remember, I'm not saying this is true of all TV-movies — to star actors who are either firmly on the B-list or whose careers are on the decline. They also tend to have lower production values than movies made for theatrical release; and they tend to be extremely formulaic.

In addition, the nature of the medium works against them in certain technical respects: The average TV screen — not top-of-the-line home theater setups, but what most people have in their homes — are smaller than movie-theater screens, so directors tend to emphasize close-ups over wide compositions. That, coupled with the fact that so many people are still resistant to letterboxing, is why so many TV movies are overloaded with medium close-up, shot/reverse-shot talking-heads sequences. The poor dark-tone resolution on standard sets also discourages the use of subtle atmospheric lighting; the "shoot it light and bright" screams made-for-TV.

I'm willing to defer to Unwantedhero's opinion that House of the Dead 2: Dead Aim (2005), which was produced by Lionsgate for DVD/TV release, is better than the theatrically released House of the Dead (2003), though frankly, the fact that House of the Dead played theaters at all is nothing short of miraculous, given that director Uwe Boll's name is a gold-standard guarantee of crap. That said, "not as bad as the first one" isn't really a ringing endorsement.

House of the Dead leads us directly to Gena's question about those "original" TV-movies; she's absolutely right that some of them are not made-for-TV movies in the way that the old ABC Movies of the Week were. A good example is Dog Soldiers (2002), a tough little werewolf movie that debuted on SciFi Channel. But it was made in the U.K. for theatrical release and played theaters in Europe, which is why it's shot like a real movie and features some pretty nasty special effects that had to be trimmed for basic cable, along with some language. The difference in quality between Dog Soldiers and Mansquito (2005), a real SciFi original movie is evident. As to the rest of Gena's question, the intended audience for movies like Mansquito is hard-core sci-fi/horror buffs. I don't know exactly how the production deals are structured, but they hinge on collaboration between distributors, because the hard truth of low-budget filmmaking is that the way you make a profit is by having your distribution deals in place before you start shooting. As many independent filmmakers have learned the hard way, it's not enough to get your movie made. Remember the koan about the tree that falls in the forest that no one hears? Drop in "movie no one sees" and the meaning stays the same. So the union of a DVD distributor and a cable channel is money in the bank: You have two markets locked up and neither comes with the enormous prints-and-advertising costs associated with theatrical release.

I'm sure actors like Dean Cain and Gina Torres are told that the project is bypassing theatrical distribution for the so-called "ancillary markets," which are now where movies make their money anyway, and they're paid through the production company of record, whose resources usually come from a number of sources.

Finally, Jackie and Teddi are looking for a pair of classic made-for-broadcast-TV movies: Trilogy of Terror (1974) and Don't Go to Sleep (1982). The legendary Trilogy is a three-part anthology movie starring Karen Black; the last segment, in which she plays a timid woman terrorized by a Zuni fetish doll called "He Who Kills" that comes to life and chases her around her apartment with a spear, is the only one anyone remembers. It's been available on and off via video and DVD, but it's getting a newly released special edition on August 29 from MPI Home Video, which includes an interview with Black and commentary from writers Richard Matheson and William F. Nolan. Don't Go to Sleep is a genuinely spooky psychological thriller in which a family is haunted by its dead daughter, who died in the accident Jackie describes. The great thing about it is that it actually maintains suspense over whether there's really a ghost or whether they're haunted by their own guilt (every member of the family bears some responsibility for what happened) until the very last shot. Unfortunately, it hasn't been commercially available since it was briefly released on video 15 years ago.