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Movies have long been a passion of mine. Here's one of the reviews I wrote for the Anderson & Lembke website back in September 1996. Click here for another example, or here to return to my homepage. |
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| RADAR, WE HARDLY KNEW YE |
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| As one of A & L�s avid cineastes (look it up, no outstanding warrants), I�m a connoisseur of bad movies. Always have been, since that blessed day when Mom & Dad first abandoned me in front of the Magnavox with a pop tart, a key to the back door, and The Ghost of Dragstrip Hollow on our local UHF station. |
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| So when my bosses here put the arm on me to do this little column, I said sure. What�s one more kitschy film buff in The Age of Tarantino, after all? |
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| From time to time I�ll be spouting off on whatever dreck I�m watching at the moment�sci-fi, exploitation, splatter, even the occasional classic. Sure, it isn�t the stuff Pauline Kael writes about; but it definitely ain�t Cutthroat Island. |
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| This week, fr�instance, I toddled off to my local Blockbuster Video, seeking a suitable offering for the four-headed god that lives beneath my TV. And there it was: Small Kill, starring Gary Burghoff. |
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| You may remember Gary as Radar, the sweetly introverted clerk on M*A*S*H. It�s unlikely you�ll remember much else, which points to the eerie thing about this most beloved of TV shows: like the Hotel California, you can never leave. |
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| You demand proof, gringo? Try remembering the last time you saw MacLean Stevenson (Henry Blake), Wayne Rogers (Trapper John) or Larry Linville (Frank Burns). All of which brings us back to the doomed Burghoff, first to leave the 4077th in what we may call The M*A*S*H Diaspora (as opposed to what we may call The Diff�rent Strokes Incarceration). |
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| What did Gary do, you might wonder, when those dumb IBM ads, �Fantasy Island� and dinner theatre didn�t pan out? |
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| Answer: this very lame movie. Small Kill is a Hannibal Lecter-ish flick that made my fast-forward thumb ache. Filmed largely with an amateur cast and set in Long Island, this blood-soaked yawner is a potent reminder of the first lesson you learn as a B movie fan: sometimes a bad movie is exactly that, and nothing more. |
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| Posterboy for career counseling |
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| Basically, the plot involves a diminutive sociopath named Fleck (as in lint) who stalks Long Island, kidnapping children to finance his drug dealer pals. |
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| When he�s not cozying up to tots or menacing them with a straight razor, the pudgy Burghoff mouth-breathes sadistic ransom demands over the phone and launch Lecteresque tirades. He also survives a double-cross by the drug ring, killing a homicidal hooker while they do the nasty in a La-Z-Boy. (Radar? Our Radar?) |
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| He�s very into vengeance, is Gary. That, and some very unflattering tank tops. |
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| Before long, Fleck attracts the attention of the Nassau County police. Which is unfortunate, since this lurches the film into endless amateur scenes of the two cops, their Home Depot �headquarters,� and their family life at home. |
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| Around the 75 minute mark, however, things heat up nicely. Our wee psycho shows off his acting skills, eluding the cops by going drag and impersonating an elderly fortune-teller. The denouement involves a very tasty battle that leaves both cops seriously wounded, thanks to Gary and his henchman�a sadistic bank loan officer who stabs the bejeezus out of his opponent with a Sheaffer fountain pen. (Sorry sir, we�re disapproving your application.) |
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| One potato, two potato |
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| Eventually, however, the cop with a penchant for knife-throwing staples Fleck to the wall, throat-first. Next thing you know, his partner is recovered and they are back cavorting with family at what is quite likely their real-life Long Island home. |
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| Boo! Hiss! |
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| So how would I rate First Kill? Well, I go on what I call the five-point Spuds Scale for Couch Potatoes. This is a two-potato flick, which means a big spuds-down. Don�t see it unless you have a morbid fascination with out-of-luck celebrities. (Which I do.) |
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| Otherwise, you�ll have better luck with the three-spud (***) Mommy, which features former child star Patty MacCormack as a Type-A mater who commits homicide during a parent-teacher conference! Ah, school was never like this. |
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| But I digress. That�s all for now. Tune in next time, when I review the cinematic legacy of Grade-Z auteur and polygamist Ted V. Mikels. Until then, hold my place in line at the local video store. |
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| Small Kill |
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| 1994, Eagle Films. Available at Blockbuster Video. Starring Gary �Radar� Burghoff. |
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| STORY ARC: Diminutive psycho Fleck kidnaps children to finance drug deals. He eludes Nassau County detectives by masquerading as his dead fortune-teller mother, while plotting revenge against everyone who ever �pushed him around.� |
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| QUALITY KILLS: Fourteen, mostly guns and straight razors. |
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| BLOOD: Oh, definitely. |
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| NUDITY: Two obligatory hooker/stripper scenes. One tries to kill Fleck during armchair intercourse (�Oh, Klinger!�). |
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| HIGHS: A psycho bank manager who uses his fountain pen as a stilletto; Gary Burghoff in drag, looking like Jimmy Cagney and sounding like Mr. Chekhov. |
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| LOWS: Endless scenes of the amateurish �detectives� and their families, probably added to get financing from in-laws. |
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| RATING: **. Not worth your time, unless you get off on seeing celebrities cope with disastrous career moves. |
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