One of my favorite legends is the tale of the Iron Door (the
other one is Spring-Heeled Jack, but that’s a discussion for some other
time). Reputedly located in the Samaria
Mountain range, the story begins at its end.
A couple of homesteaders were sitting outside their cabin one day, when
they noticed a horse and rider drawing near.
The rider was wounded (shot, in fact), and the homesteaders hurried him
into their cabin. As he lay dying, the
rider stated that he was a member of a trio of stagecoach robbers who had
menaced the area for a long time, and they had amassed quite a stash of
precious metals and assorted booty.
According to the moribund highwayman, the ill-gotten gains had been placed
in a cave south of Samaria which was sealed with the eponymous door. During an argument, the man shot and killed
his two partners and sealed them behind the door as well before dragging
himself away. Since the description of the
cache’s location is imprecise to say the least, no one has been able to find it
(though you’d think the door would give it away) to this day. When I initially heard this story, I was told
that the door’s location would mystically change from day to day, though I
believe it was just imprecisely explained to me, as well. So, anyone who wants to take a trip to the
wilds of Idaho with me, let me know. I’m
always up for a treasure hunt (actually, that’s a lie; I hate the outdoors).
One lovely day, an albino-ish monster (actually a guy in an
Alien Hitbeast mask from The Last
Starfighter and a blonde/white fright wig) scurries out of Bronson Cavern
and kills some random guy (Michael
Sonye) and his dog before being clubbed with a Coleman cooler by his wife (Victoria Alexander). Enter hoi polloi/rich bitch Denae Chambers (Susan Stokey), who hires loser salvaging
duo/drunkard tag team, Colt Eastman (Ross Hagen) and Eddy (Dawn Wildsmith) to help her trek
back into the caves to find the wealth of precious gems with which the
obviously non-high-class monster was adorned.
Joined by the inexplicably “hunky” Andrew Paris (Jeffrey Combs) and the
dandy-esque Professor Strock (the late, great Robert Quarry), the team wend
their way into the well-lit subterrane and peregrinate for about an hour or so.
Fred Olen
Ray’s The Phantom Empire is
actually the second (quasi) remake of the 1935 serial of the same name. The first was on the 1979 NBC series
“Cliffhangers!” (which is bafflingly unavailable on [legit] DVD; Hell, even
“Tales of the Gold Monkey” received an official release). There, the story title was changed to “The
Secret Empire,” but the heart of the story remained the same. Part of a portmanteau show, it shared its time
spot with “Stop Susan Williams,” a conspiracy story which was an update on the
old Perils Of Pauline serials and
the Michael Nouri-starring “The Curse Of Dracula.” But the Weird Western story
was my favorite, and the show did what it was designed to do; It kept me coming
back every week. I haven’t seen the
television show since it originally aired, but I did recently view a
condensation of the original version of the “Empire” story, and aside from the
plot device of making sure Gene Autry made it back to the Radio Ranch every
episode to do his live show and the natural structure of the serial format (all
peaks, no valleys), it’s not bad.
Thankfully, Ray does acknowledge his influences with a passing line from
the only cowgirl in the film, Eddy.
And since Mr. Ray clearly loves women (or certain parts of
women at the absolute minimum), let’s talk for a moment about gender in this
movie. The film exists in a man’s
world. Eddy, Colt’s partner is
masculinized almost to the point of actually being a man (I’m actually sort of
surprised she never flatulates, eructates, expectorates, or micturates standing
up). The same can be said of Sybil Danning’s Alien Queen, but
she at least expresses a sexual interest in Andrew, despite her being
physically superior to every man and woman in the cast. Yet as a sexual being, the Queen is dependent
on machines, thus she is a direct threat to masculinity but is incapable of
fulfilling her own sexual needs without artificial assistance and ergo, is
incomplete. On the opposite end of the
spectrum is the Cave Bunny (Michelle
Bauer), who is a sexual submissive in every aspect. She is busty, partially clothed, and cowers,
constantly hoping to make the men (or at least Andrew) happy. Plus, she can’t speak, so there is no doubt
left as to her fetishization as a perfect sexual receptacle for men.
Denae’s sexuality is closer to having an actual arc
throughout the film, and I actually found it sort of interesting to follow it through. She begins the story as an ice queen,
literally wearing furs. She is remote,
controlling, and is only included in the male-dominated expedition because she
has the money to fund it (in essence, a form of solicitation for sex because
she cannot attract a man). Once she
meets Andrew and enters the caverns, her sexuality is ignited. She still is unworthy of a man’s love, but
she has been instilled with the desire to be so. The further into the Earth (read: womb) she
travels, the hotter she literally becomes, until she reaches the center, where
there is even an active volcano spewing lava into the air, the pinnacle of
sexual release imagery in the film. The
center of the Earth is also a prehistoric throwback, a complete delivery from
the modern/society-enforced sexual norms and mores which have constrained her
up to this point in her life. When she
re-emerges from the vaginal cave opening and seals it with an orgasmic,
climactic explosion, she is reborn in a more sexually normative (but not
necessarily progressive) form. You know,
if you’re looking for that type of thing in a film like this.
But let’s be honest with each other; I don’t believe anyone
has ever watched a Fred Olen Ray film, nor do I believe that Mr. Ray has ever
produced a film, with any intention other than to pass the time staring at the exploitable
elements. This is cinema heaven-sent for
the beer-and-pizza set, and there’s nothing wrong with that, in and of
itself. However, a film needs to be
entertaining, and the one thing this movie isn’t, at its heart, is
entertaining. The characters seem to act
however they have been written to in order to get any given scene from Point A
to Point B (and the scenes themselves typically linger on for far too long in
an obvious attempt at padding the runtime).
Consequently, their behavior vacillates from being likable and heroic to
being boorish and irritating at various points.
You can argue that this sort of inconsistency provides the
verisimilitude of greater depth, but really it’s just time passing by that you
feel, and who wouldn’t prefer to be knocked out for a root canal?
MVT: the best thing about the film, aside from
the pulchritude and tight jeans on display, is the stop-motion dinosaur effects
which Ray lifted from the (equally drab) Planet
Of The Dinosaurs. But at the very
least, that film had the benefit of the skills of Doug Beswick and Jim
Danforth. Fred Olen Ray apparently had a
Starlog catalog and access to this stock footage.
Make Or Break: The Break is the monotony of the characters
walking and running through the caverns ceaselessly. Not only does it make the whole affair drag
on, but I literally started to recognize certain sections of the caves. It’s like a bad porn set, but made by nature
rather than carpenters. Plus, the rocks
have more personality than any of the characters standing next to them.
Score: 4/10
**Like this
review? Share it with a friend. Hate it?
Share it with an enemy.**
Up for that treasure hunt, whenever you are, Daddy-O.
ReplyDelete