“I can’t stand this scenery another minute! All natural forests should be turned into housing developments! I want cement covering every blade of grass in this nation! Don’t we taxpayers have a voice anymore?”
-Mike Stole in Desperate Living

Seven Chances (1925) (Buster Keaton)
While most of Keaton’s fans would probably prefer The General or, say, Steamboat Bill Jr., Seven Chances is my favourite of the Great Stone Face’s oeuvre. In the film, Keaton, whose company is on the brink of bankruptcy, learns that his uncle has left him a fortune of $7 million…but only if he gets married by the end of the day. Keaton, of course, tries his luck with literally every girl in sight, eventually culminating with the single best silent-film crowd scene that Cecil B. DeMille never shot.
Seven Chances isn’t the most technically innovative of Keaton’s films, nor is it the most ambitious, but I think it’s the fastest-paced and funniest, and at a slim 56-minutes, there isn’t a single wasted scene. If you’ve never seen a silent comedy, this is a good introduction.

Desperate Living (1977) (John Waters)
John Waters made a name for himself with the revolting low-budget oddity Pink Flamingos (1973), famous for, among other things, the scene where 300-pound transvestite Divine actually eats dog doo. Desperate Living, the last film from his shock/underground period, is technically crude and sure to offend even the most jaded of viewers…but I have to admit: I laughed a lot.
Mink Stole stars as an insane woman who, with her 400-pound maid (Jean Hill), kills her husband and flees to Mortville, a revolting land where convicts can choose to live instead of jail. There they meet tough-talking transsexual Mole McHenry (Susan Lowe) and her ridiculously glamorous girlfriend Muffy St. Jacques (Liz Renay), and become involved in political intrigue (if those are the words I’m looking for) around the sinister Queen Carlotta (Edith Massey). In between are a botched sex change operation, a plot to infect Mortville with rabies, and some of the most ridiculous love scenes you’ll ever see in a movie.
Mink Stole? Liz Renay? Edith Massey? The star power truly knows no bounds! All of Waters’ cast members deliver their lines in ridiculously melodramatic fashion, emphasizing Waters’ campy approach to the material and giving the film a strange innocence. Being an early Waters film, the director lays on the shock value, and watching the film feels like a genuinely edgy, dangerous experience. The sheer over-the-top nature of the entire film gives it a lot of its appeal.
John Waters’ brand of humour may not be your cup of tea. In fact, most of the time, it isn’t even mine (Pink Flamingos, for all its infamy, is very dull, and A Dirty Shame gets my vote for worst movie of the decade so far). But if you have a fondness for high camp, low trash, bad taste, or any combination of those three, I think you’ll get a kick out of Desperate Living.

Gymkata (1985) (Robert Clouse)
Yes, Gymkata. Hear me out.
Normally, I would not devote space in this particular column to a bad movie, but Gymkata is no ordinary bad movie. There are your run-of-the-mill bad movies (Rush Hour 3, to pull a name out of a hat), then there are your legendary run-of-the-mill bad movies (Gigli), and there are your cheesy, amusing run-of-the-mill bad movies (most of the stuff Roger Corman shot in a week during the 1950s). In a much more elite group are bad movies that aren’t just “so bad they’re good,” to quote a tired old phrase, but one step beyond “so bad they’re good” – movies that with their sheer ridiculousness can only be described as alternative masterpieces. Plan 9 from Outer Space is one of those movies, as are Santa Claus Conquers the Martians, Godzilla 1985 (American version), Rocky IV, Dhoom 2… and Gymkata.
From the director of Enter the Dragon, Gymkata stars former Olympic-level gymnast Kurt Thomas, possibly the least charismatic action star in a decade that gave us Christopher Lambert. The US government recruits Thomas to take part in a deadly obstacle course in a small country. If Thomas wins the game, he will be granted one wish by the country’s government: to be able to use the country as part of that kooky Reagan-era ‘Star Wars’ defense program. Ah, the ‘80s.
To survive the obstacle course, Thomas has to use his deadly Gymkata skill. What is Gymkata? Well, according to the trailer, “When gymnastics and karate are fused, the combustion becomes an explosion, and a new kind of martial art is born.” SEE: Kurt Thomas find a pommel horse in the middle of a town square during a fight scene! SEE: Robert Clouse cut corners by having Thomas jump over a gorge on his horse, but not show the gorge. SEE: a fortress guarded by a lot of white guys in 10-cent ninja costumes!
I thought long and hard about highlighting Gymkata, but then I went to the HMV at Yonge and Dundas and saw it showcased proudly on their “Hidden Gems” display, right next to films by Werner Herzog and Michelangelo Antonioni. Kurt Thomas should be proud.

SEE THE AMAZING GYMKATA TRAILER: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9Mkl9rtttog

Cobra Verde (1988) (Werner Herzog)
Speaking of Herzog, the great German director made five films with the borderline insane actor Klaus Kinski, including Aguirre: The Wrath of God, Fitzcarraldo, and Nosferatu: Phantom der Nacht, and the fruits of their labour would become highlights of both their careers. Cobra Verde was their last and least-seen film together. Too bad, because it’s a lot of fun. Kinski plays a much-feared bandit who makes the mistake of impregnating all of a plantation owner’s daughters. Somewhat annoyed, the plantation banishes Kinski to South Africa. At first persecuted, Kinski quickly becomes a plantation owner himself, fathers over sixty children, and lives to regret his involvement in slavery. Cinema had no better madman than Kinski, and like any Herzog film, Cobra Verde is packed to the gills with unforgettable images (this film looks much more expensive than it probably was) – dig the massive, topless army of Amazonians!
Incidentally, if you like Cobra Verde, you might also be interested in Herzog’s film about Kinski, My Best Fiend, as well as Kinski’s no-holds-barred autobiography Kinski Uncut, in which he calls Herzog a “nasty, cowardly, treacherous creep.” Unquote.

Three…Extremes (2004) (Fruit Chan, Park Chan-wook, Takashi Miike)
Three…Extremes gathers together three short horror films by three of Asia’s top directors, and the result is not only my favourite horror film of the last few years, but one of the better omnibus films you’re likely to see. Park Chan-wook’s Cut is about a successful film director held captive by a disturbed bit-part actor. It’s the most intense and riveting of the bunch, playing a bit like The King of Comedy crossed with Oldboy. An unusually low-key Takashi Miike present Box, the moodiest and most visually imaginative segment. Best – and most disturbing – of all is Fruit Chan’s Dumplings, about an aging movie star who eats special dumplings known to restore youth. It would be unfair to reveal the secret ingredient, but be warned: it might have you reaching for the “eject” button. Dumpings, also available in a feature-length version, is shocking and sick, but also intelligent and thought provoking.