I find television very educating. Every time somebody turns on the set, I go into the other room and read a book. - Groucho Marx


by Thomas Michalski
April 19, 2014
It might have something to do with its origins in French film theory, but people tend to only toss around the word “auteur” when it comes to highbrow directors, your Kubricks and Kurosawas, but the term is by no means an indicator of commonly accepted notions of quality cinema, having more to do with the structure and consistency of vision evident in a filmmaker’s body of work than the perceived cultural or artistic importance of that output. When considered without the bogus cinephile pretension, the term could arguably be applied to everyone’s favorite directorial whipping boy, Ed Wood, and is certainly apt, as David K. Frasier points out in his book-length examination of the accomplished sleaze purveyor, for Russ Meyer. Meyer’s films weren’t of the sort to garner nods from the Academy, in fact they were more likely to get him thrown in jail, but there’s no denying that over the course of his infamous career, lasting over a quarter of a century, the filmmaker established and expanded upon his own unique aesthetic, using it to explore subject matter both personal and political. The fact that that aesthetic revolves almost exclusively around scantily clad women with enormous tits is totally irrelevant...
Thomas Michalski is a writer and radio host from Milwaukee, Wisconsin. You can keep up with his comings and goings over at http://www.voodooinspector.com/

by Lindsay Long
April 18, 2014

For anyone who has ever played D&D, been in a den with wood paneled walls, or glimpsed a TV set in the past thirty years, probably has caught a scene from the epic 1982 film, Beastmaster. The movie bestowed upon us from the obvious decade of outlandishness, and one of countless fantasy films to arise from the era.

“Born with the courage of an eagle, the strength of a black tiger, and the power of a God” Beastmaster (for those who don’t already know and can’t easily guess) tells the tale of Dar...

Currently holdin’ it down in the dirty south city of Atlanta, Network Awesome contributor Lindsay can be found frequenting house parties, punk rock shows, seedy thrift stores, or glued to her computer screen unearthing the endless gems today's internet offers. A self-proclaimed fan of all things vintage, including the nudie mags of yesteryear, she possesses an insatiable appetite for anything visually mind-blowing or just totally tasteless. Notorious B.I.G. sums her up best with a line from ‘Gimme the Loot': ”Dangerous. Crazier than a bag of f*@#$%g angel dust.”

by A Wolfe
April 17, 2014
When producer Albert R. Broccoli bought the rights to John Wyndham’s popular sci-fi novel Day of the Triffids in 1957, he thought this would be the film to launch his career into outer space, but he didn’t count on hiring a screenwriter who always said he wasn’t a screenwriter—sad-sap horror writer Jimmy Sangster—and the project fell into ruins, leaving Broccoli to get by on his little side project, James Bond. It wasn’t until ’62 that the Steve Sekely-directed plant-monster film we know and love went to public. And, strangely enough, those triffids bear a striking resemblance to broccoli…
A Wolfe is a writer and director in Los Angeles. awolfeswolfworld.wordpress.com

by Anthony Galli
April 15, 2014

Perhaps it is too easy to take Morrissey for granted.

Already a pop music icon when he released his first solo album, “Viva Hate”, in 1988, Morrissey has only released nine additional albums in the 25 years since then, and only three since Maladjusted in 1997. He has still managed, however, to retain his iconic status regardless of shifting trends in the entertainment industry, and the vacillating vagaries of the music biz.

Morrissey is so cool that his presence only needs to be suggested through album cover sleeves, concert posters, t-shirt logos, and random television clips in his 1988 video “Everyday is Like Sunday” for his power to be felt.

And, of course, anybody who is instantly recognizable by a single name has got to be doing something right...

Anthony Galli currently lives in Athens, Georgia. He shares a birthday with his black cat, Magic, and they both claim Wings of Desire as their favorite film. Anthony has published two books of poetry, Amnesia for Insomniacs and Invisible Idiot.

by Justin Martinez
April 13, 2014

Shot in Sun Valley, California with $5,000 financed through credit cards, writer-director Donald G. Jackson’s Roller Blade (New World Pictures, 1986) is a 16mm, non-sync sound, hair metal dystopia with maybe-accidental strains of The Holy Mountain(1973, dir. Alejandro Jodorowsky), with a little Road Warrior, a little Alex Cox, a pinch of William Klein.

A few years earlier, Jackson did some pick-up shots with James Cameron for The Terminator, another film that posits a future gone to shit. It was a major theme of the decade. The 1980s had a crime problem. The Cold War still raged with Russia when it was still considered a nuclear threat. Apocalypse narratives satisfied the public’s born-again Christianity and desire for judgement. In Roller Blade, “frontier justice” is meted out when police authority is overwhelmed, getting “tough on crime” the unavoidable -- but secretly enjoyable -- response...

Justin Martinez is a playwright living in Lawrence, Kansas.  His work can be found at www.racialfacial.com.