Modern Girls (1986)

Often described as L.A.’s answer to After Hours, Modern Girls (1986) feels much more indebted to the success of Desperately Seeking Susan as both are fuelled by a non-stop new wave soundtrack and boho club fashions. Taking place over the course of one night (a personal favourite sub-genre of mine), Modern Girls follows a quartet of characters hopping across the LA nightlife of warehouse parties, bars and exclusive clubs.

Opening credits snapshot the trio of roommates during their workday: clock-watcher with attitude Daphne Zuniga, pet-store bombshell Virginia Madsen and make/up store dreamer Cynthia Gibb. Desperate for a fun night to get over being fired, Gibb’s character puts the story in motion, conscripting a straight-laced driving instructor (Clayton Ronner) as their chauffeur; he’s arrived at the girls’ apartment for a date with Madsen’s character, though she’s already forgotten about him and left. So they all head out to a trendy nightspot, and for the first thirty minutes, the film feels like a light, airy hang-out, content to soak up the nightlife, the outfits and the music.

Lightly comic in observation, particularly as Ronner’s character is slowly inducted into ‘The Scene’ as well as an eventual make-over. Then, as the night goes on and the characters move to the next location, the movie dials up the cartoonish antics a bit more with car chases, mistaken identity moments, a few dated gags, and a touch of danger courtesy of Madsen being continually cornered by creeps that she’s rescued from. There are fun performances, particularly from Zuniega and Gibb who have the most to do, and Ronner especially who also plays two roles, the intellectual sad-sack who becomes friendly with the female trio, and a Billy Idol type rocker named Bruno X that Gibb’s character is chasing after.

Scripted by Laurie Craig and Anita Rosenberg, and directed by Jerry Kramer (a music video director who also made… Moonwalker, erm), Modern Girls is ultimately a light post-high school teen comedy romance with an ultimate focus on female friendship. Less about the anxiety of not being able to get home like in After Hours. More about the exhaustion of an all-nighter but there’s still a bit of magic out there. Depeche Mode’s ‘But Not Tonight’ is its theme song, and features other tunes by Toni Basil, Icehouse and Jesus and the Mary Chain. Big fan of the crushed blue gloves that Zuneiga wears, and the pink cigarettes that Gibb smokes. Available to stream on Tubi (US). Recommended.

Radioactive Dreams (1985)

1980s VHS were a wasteland of ‘wasteland’ post-apocalyptic movies, particularly after the success of the Mad Max movies. Actors stumbling around desert locations, lonely roads and abandoned factories in countries near and far, standing in for the Year 3000 or whenever. Radioactive Dreams (1985) is a post-apocalyptic flick but straddling several other genres, namely film noir and new wave musical. Written and directed by Albert Pyun (Nemesis, Arcade), though apparently taken off him during production and completed by others, this still sings with a neon-soaked pop-charge in the tradition of Walter Hill’s Streets Of Fire. Soundtracked by a propulsive beat and broken up into what feel like music videos for a new band called Sue Saad and the Next, several sequences feel like alternative cuts for the ‘Total Eclipse Of The Heart’ music video. In other words, Radioactive Dreams has that Jim Steinman feeling. That, and bringing to life the types of images and concepts gracing the covers of paperback sci-fi novels and comic-books for the past decade. Two young dudes, Phillip Chandler (John Stockwell) and Marlowe Hammer (Michael Dudikoff) have grown up together in a fallout shelter after a nuclear war, raising themselves after their fathers deserted them, understanding life through a steady diet of gumshoe novels and big band music. Their dream is to be detectives, and when they dig their way out of the cave they’ve been living in, it’s time to hit the road in an open top convertible, and understand the world outside. What follows is a first act road movie with disco-clad swearing kids with guns and flame-haired all-female motorcycle gangs, which then halts into underground city territory as the duo find their innocence corrupted and double-crossed, particularly when it’s revealed they have two keys for the last remaining nuclear missile. With director Pyun’s recent passing, I’ve only seen a few of his movies, but I appreciate the love for his auteurism as he represents an era of video shelf discoveries, martial arts and sci-fi flicks that were also-rans, elevated by a sense of style and genre. You might really have to be on the same wavelength as Radioactive Dreams isn’t perfect, and is often chaotic and thrown together, particularly its repeated motif of the two wannabe detectives running down corridors and beset by warring parties. I really enjoyed the cross-genre asethetic helped by Stockwell’s noir narration and seriousness balanced by the surprise of the American Ninja himself, Dudikoff, delivering a broad, wacky performance that I found quite endearing. There’s a sense of heart to the junkyard action and stylistic flourishes, particularly stamped by the fun conclusion where Phillip and Marlowe regain their souls through the power of a soft-shoe shuffle. Also stars Lisa Blount as the dangerous femme fatale, Miles Archer, and Michelle Little as the plucky good-hearted punker named Rusty Mars. As well as old pros like Don Murray and George Kennedy in the mix. While no good quality Blu-ray exists, there are copies available to stream on YouTube. Recommended.

Heartbreakers (1984)

With its Tangerine Dream synth-wave score and gliding Michael Ballhaus cinematography, Heartbreakers (1984) exudes considerable neon-noir energy. Yet the movie has nothing to do with the crime or thriller genre. Instead, all that neon and energy is just the palpable aesthetic for a drama about male friendships. The film’s title card frames the two men – Blue (Peter Coyote), a struggling artist, and Eli (Nick Mancuso), a wealthy businessman – observing a room filled with lycra-clad women during a work-out session, setting up a movie about the dating scene and two lotharios on the make. However, Heartbreakers has more on its mind than being an Eighties sex comedy and surprises you by certain scenes and their off-kilter directions. There’s a European-influence to the film’s tone, a messy hang-out about careers, money, family, sex, relationships and ultimately, the combustible love between these two men. A view of Los Angeles taking in its superficial and bohemian terrains: art gallery deals, gym work-outs, late night burgers, and early morning diners. Blue is wanting for success as an artist, spurred by a break-up with his long-suffering girlfriend, Cyd (Kathryn Harrold). Stuck in the family textile business, Eli finds pleasures in one night stands but is longing for a relationship. There’s the buxom model, Candy (Carol Wayne) for Blue’s fetish paintings, the French gallery employee, Lillane (Carole Laure) and the successful artist, King (Max Gail) that Cyd becomes involved with. I was fully into the style of Heartbreakers, which reminded me of After Hours but not a nightmare, or Miracle Mile without the apocalypse, or even the movies of Alan Rudolph such as Choose Me but less addled and woozy. Directed and written by Bobby Roth, and based in part on his own experiences in a male friendship, and the different sides of his personality. Great performances from the cast, particularly co-leads Coyote and Mancuso who get a chance to shine in different ways; Coyote as excitable and loose, Mancuso as suave yet wounded. I’m probably rating it higher in my estimation because it ticks a lot of aesthetic boxes, but I can imagine returning to this film as a way to spend time in this world and with these characters. Watched the Fun City Editions Blu-ray, which has a great remastered transfer of a film that was previously difficult to find a copy of. Recommended.

The Lure (2015)

In 1980s Poland, two mermaids hear their own siren song: a fair haired boy playing an indie ballad on the shoreline. Leaving the water for the world of humans, the mermaids eventually front their very own synth pop band. Welcome to the horror-musical-fantasy world of The Lure (2015; Córki dancingu), which revolves around a nightclub where music is played to performing strippers and dancing customers; everyone – from sleazy owners, sweaty patrons and kitchen staff – bob their heads and tap their feet to the propulsive beat. Following the trajectory of The Little Mermaid, this film returns the darkness to the original fairytale as these mermaids can turn into fanged monsters happy to feed on stray humans; their presence is also casually accepted by the nightclub management as the working bar band, Figs N Dates, takes in these creatures as their back-up singers. For a cross-genre production, a lot of things have to go right for all of this weirdness to work. The music by sisters Barbara Wrońska and Zuzanna Wrońska offers catchy tunes, the special effects are effectively grotesque, and there’s style to burn in the nightclub atmosphere, a lot of which is based on the memories of director Agnieszka Smoczyńska and writer Robert Bolesto (as well as the sisters Wronska who were initially the basis for the story). Marta Mazurek and Michalina Olszańska are great as the mermaids, named Silver and Golden respectively, who eventually follow their own individual desires in this metaphor for adolescence; Silver falls in love with a human while Golden satisfies her animalistic hunger. There’s an excellent supporting cast, particularly the distinctive band mates, Kinga Preis, Jakub Giersal, and Andrzej Konopka. The first half has the giddy highs of a band biopic while the second half can’t help but lose a bit of steam with the inevitable dissolution; I also wished wish that the closing credits song was its own musical sequence for some closure. Still, The Lure is a unique, stylish and at times confronting experience; it’s like if a freaky Goldfrapp song came to life as a movie. Available to stream in the Criterion Channel. Recommended.

White Star (1983)

White Star (1983) was a film I was trying to track down endlessly. Ever since I read about it in a Joe Bob Briggs Top 5 Dennis Hopper performances that he penned in the Eighties. No Blu-Ray release, not on any streaming service – well, turns out all I had to do was type “Dennis Hopper full movies” into YouTube and there you have it. White Star has a dubious reputation as it was filmed at the height (or depths) of Hopper’s drug and alcohol addictions, well before he cleaned up and had an acting comeback in the mid-1980s. Here, in Berlin with director Roland Klick, Hopper has the dead-eyed intensity and animated hand movements of say Apocalypse Now, but in a low budget production and with an air of sad desperation. Some of this works for the character, Barlow, an American music manager who has latched onto a young, blonde dude named Moody (Terrence Robay) who is launching a solo career as a synth wave artist after playing in a punk band. Hopper’s character is maniacal and unpredictable, staging riots and violence by booking Moody at a punk venue where the audience wants his blood, manufacturing drama where there is none. Yet its also clear that Hopper the actor is in rough shape himself, often with a hoarse voice in a few scenes or trembling hands (apparently he could only film for two hours a day, didn’t remember the script and was allegedly medicating himself heavily). Anyway, the movie has pretty blunt points about the music industry and Barlow’s unhinged, crooked shenanigans revolve around creating spectacle for media coverage, all the while yelling about, “the future, man, the future!”. The low budget is obvious in some scenes that attempt to convey how much Moody is having an impact on the city, and sometimes a scene might be missing or just generally misshapen. I also watched an English language version where the minor characters are dubbed with American accents, adding to the surreal vibe. David Hess (from Last House On The Left) is also in this as Hopper’s right hand man, the guy who can be paid off to throw a rock in a window store and blame it on Moody’s show, and he was great. White Star will not be for everyone, but I found it compelling, particularly Hopper’s hectic, bedraggled energy, and the Berlin setting as an environment for his trench-coated, chain-smoking, shouting presence. His monologue in a laundromat about being a tour manager for The Rolling Stones is a hypnotic sequence: “We used to have stars, man, real stars.” Recommended.