United States - 1984
Director- William Tannen
Thorn EMI Video, 1984, VHS
Director Tannen hasn't done ass in the way of film since this, his debut. Probably 90% of his films are ass, but admittedly I've only seen two of the other films he directed, both of them among Chuck Norris's worst films. In that context anyway, Flashpoint should seem pretty good, and I think William Tannen would agree.
Ernie (Treat Williams) and Bobby (Kris Kristofferson) kick it off as two unruly Texas Border Patrol agents, a thankless job just made thankless-er by the announcement that the department is making some personnel cutbacks. And to add insult to injury, they themselves have to install the geo-sensors that will monitor the border instead of them. The first half of this movie is all pretty straightforward, at least when compared to the second half, but now it definitely warrants a second viewing, when I'm actually paying close attention. Let's just hope this convoluted political conspiracy trick doesn't rub thin too fast.
In the bush, Bobby accidentally discovers a jeep buried in the sand, and after digging it out finds among the contents a sketeton, a scoped rifle and 80,000 bucks. Seeing it as his and his buddy Ernie's chance to get lost, he lets him in on the find. Despite his fiery temper, Ernie is scared of getting caught and hems and haws, dragging his feet along the way. Their jerk boss assigns them to stake out a remote airstrip where drug shipments are arriving from Mexico, but they must cooperate with some super shady federal agents led by the icy Agent Carson. When the plane lands it's clear that the Feds have something up their sleeves when the bust is foiled by aberrant gunfire. All this business is a little weird, but it's set to get weirder as soon as Ernie and Bobby start to trace the info in the skeletons wallet. Some disconnected phone numbers in Washington DC, and a license plate. The Fed exceeds the friendly groping demarcation line and gets altogether too friendly. E & B's plan starts to unravel.
Once all the serious "conspiratorial cover-up" starts flying, I'm still not sure where the "flash-point" is, but everybody gets distinctly more hostile towards each other. The interaction between the characters throughout the entire film has almost been a wonderful dream, but the final resolution, despite the setting, is historically abrupt. In the final dial up, the ultimate reveal concedes at least one of two unfortunate facts, either:
a.) you have a working knowledge of JFK conspiracy theories, and figured this movie out in the first 5 minutes.
b.) you didn't pick up on that connection in the first hour and 20 minutes but will, in the last 5 minutes, accept and be convinced by a flashing crosscut shot of a JFK death newspaper article, and a desperate morality monologue.
This movie doesn't rock, but it tries hard, and it's worth sticking around through the stellar dialogue even if the payoff is barely worth the money.
Having a horrible dream, Edmund Blackstone induces a pall of intolerably monotonous yammering and criminally cheap minimalist soundtrack over the remaining film. During a discussion at the dinner table, he suddenly sees a dwarf (Hervé Villechaize, a.k.a. Tattoo) at the window and leaves the table to tuck his son into bed and terrify him by telling him about his inner demons.
Ethnic Notions
Ethnic Notions doesn’t stray from that line, rather it confronts the manufactured image of Blackness as perceived or more precisely imagined, by white culture full force. The film begins with an explanation of the development of Black stereotypes; the Mammy, Sambo, Coon, Pickaninny and Uncle Tom, which have been promoted and used since the advent of American slavery to the American Civil War, into modern pop culture.
An interesting problem that the film and the persons interviewed, both black and white, convey, is the idea of contradiction. The best way I can describe this is that in order to move beyond basic subservience, Black Americans have had to reinforce the very stereotypes which reduce them to a state of subject, and servitude. Throughout the film, from the original minstrel character of 
From beginning to end, the persistent racist iconography of United States media of all types are laid bare…for a very few interested people. It is no surprise that this film was already lost by the time it was made, it’s too alive, too cutting to be allowed. 
She demands control of all mankind, and the science squad has only one option, modernization! They turn their best man, Rayma into a superhero (China's first!), a cyborg superhero named Super Inframan. When the humans refuse her demands, Dragon Mom sends her mutants out one at a time to cause some environmental damage and get her message across, but each time Inframan shows up in his slick plastic spaceman outfit and handily defeat them. No matter how many of her lackeys are defeated, Dragon Mom merely reiterates her demands, eventually abducting a member of the innocent younger generation. A last-ditch desperate move by a simplistic, outdated social (system) monster in dire straights. I think you know what's going to happen next.
Inframan on the other hand, is a modern fellow, ostensibly capable of infinite upgrades, and always looking forward to the next. Such is China, a huge nation struggling to free itself from perceived (at home and abroad) primitivism, and pull itself into the forefront of the global market. The Super Inframan is China's future, a pragmatic, rigorous, dynamic, and exciting (not to mention bright Red!) future. I'm all for it. 
Monica, like the film itself, is driven by desires beyond her comprehension to give it up, but too scared or perhaps too romantically delusioned to do so. Artie is Monica's boyfriend, the class goof, along with his pal Vinnie (I made this name up, I can't remember and I don't like Vinnies). Vinnie sleeps with anything that moves, Artie wishes he could sleep with anything. He's dating Monica though, and she's got her legs crossed like a bouncer's arms. All her friends encourage her to fuck, and Vinnie makes fun of Artie to the extent that he and Monica break up. Artie hooks up with the school slut, who's also the girlfriend of the school fat jerk. Monica hooks up with creepy rapist college dude, also toucher of little kids. Newly free, the two boys go on a quest to get laid, goofy antics ensue, and, there's a few brief, somewhat cold scenes of boobs and heavy petting, some "bro" homophobic humor and then sex talk at school.
Driving back to his dieing mothers house with this strange unexplained woman, they arrive just in time for a few final raspy words before she gives up the ghost. Taking a bath after the funeral, the woman reveals to Paul the nature of his fathers mysterious death in Turkey many years ago. Paul decides to go to Turkey and confront his fathers archrival-flautist, the Master Musician, a netherworldly Islamic djinn which breathes fire, and can shoot fire out of it’s eyes.
Returning later she retrieves a giant moth cocoon that she buries in the Master Musicians cave. When the moth emerges, she dies in agony in the arms of the savage who suddenly learns to scream.
I thought this was going to be a little bit like Exorcist 2 for a few minutes, while it has some similarities it got better, and it’s certainly one of the only movies I’ve seen to use Islamic theology in such a positive and interesting way. Unfortunately all the bizarrity is delivered with such deadpan sincerity and so little explanation that nothing seems out of the ordinary, even the actors seem to take it all in stride. It’s really only in retrospect that I’d realized what I had witnessed, and by that time it was too late, I didn’t want to watch any more flutes of either kind. 
After a quick dip in the pool when they arrive, the Pantheresses gear up in their bikini's.
Oh, wait, they're already ready, um they go out and track down Clean Space, which as it turns out is led by barely understandable French mental patients.
Just as the insane Spanish general (probably the best character in the movie) who is exploiting Clean Space for his Fascist plot raves himself into a tyrannical triumph speech, the girls arrive and stumble their way to a narrow, ridiculous, and uninspiring victory.
The director, writer, and editor must have been drunk when they made this, and you should be too to enjoy it. I was, and therefore did.
More than physical torture really, is the psychological tragedy they subject this guy to, calling him daddy and telling him horrible child molestation stories then role playing a trial and condemning George to death for statutory rape, all with usually very little on and cloying saccharine innocence dripping from their doe-eyed faces.
With all the creepy sincerity of a deformed baby, moments of predictability are turned on their heads, almost never fulfilled, and followed repeatedly by greater bizarre grotesquery. I have a strong compulsion to watch it again and again and feel dirty for loving it every time. 
Two buddies are driving home from somewhere to LA while bitching about the traffic and their damn feminist wives, with whom they later exchange taunts and insults around the dinner table. 
The end result is a dangerous plan to go camping. Foiled by car trouble and what appears to be a primitive attempt at hillbillyism, the men are delayed and arrive at the trailhead late. The ladies, far ahead, are prepared to set up camp just in time for one of them to get slashed by the old Bowie knife hand, now attached to a dirty trucker guy bent on eating some girl-meat.
The guys meanwhile, get lost in the dark and happen upon a well provisioned cave and some friendly children who turn out to be ghosts. What? Moments later the kids dad, trucker cannibal guy arrives and, after sharing some of his fresh “doe” meat with the guys, unleashes, much to my chagrin a stupid long origin story and exceedingly bland dialogue all of which elicits much groaning.
Three high-school girls are volunteering at the local hospital for various reasons as Candy Stripers. The first is a school rebel, the second a party girl cheerleader type, and the third a nerdy scholastic type. 
Each of the three leads must solve a problem of sorts that relates more or less directly to, and reinforces the high-school social niche her character is supposed to represent. Each of the issues is resolved with sufficient bare breasts to keep the hetero-male viewer interested enough to stay in his seat, because lord knows, this film has little else that will.
