"Joe Bob's Drive-In" for 6/5/95
cutline: J.J. North puts on a little weight and wonders whether they'll still like her at Plaything Magazine, in the instant camp classic "Attack of the 60 Foot Centerfold."
By Joe Bob Briggs
Drive-In Movie Critic of Grapevine, Texas
Has there ever been a cop show on TV where the witnesses COOPERATE with the cops?
Has this ever happened?
I was watching a "Law and Order" the other day, and they were investigating a rape, and every person they talked to would say "I don't know nothin," or "I don't have nothin to say," or they would answer the questions but have an ATTITUDE about it, like "I don't like you standin in my livin room--you're a COP."
I mean, I know there are people who hate cops--mostly CRIMINALS--but I don't think 99 per cent of the population treats em like Jehovah's Witnesses.
What would be wrong with acting nice to the cop--ESPECIALLY if you're guilty of a crime?
What would be wrong with saying, "Oh, Officer, you caught me by surprise! Murder? You don't say!"
But instead of that, some of the innocent people get so nasty that you think they're probly guilty. I understand that the screenwriters like it that way, but a show like "Law and Order" is supposed to be based on fact. They actually do have cases in New York City where people just flat don't care whether the crooks get nailed or not.
Maybe this is why there are people who actually believe that 37 El Lay cops, the coroner's office, and the District Attorney's staff are all part of a conspiracy to frame O.J. for a murder he didn't commit. They watch the trial all day long on TV, then say, "A-hah! You see that! They took a vial of blood, ran all over town with it, sloshed it on O.J.'s Bronco, and then kept it a secret till this slick New York lawyer FORCED EM to tell about it."
And all this comes at a time when people are saying, "More cops! More cops on the street! More cops on MY street!"
Why? So you can find somebody to insult QUICKER?
Why don't we just invite these guys in for a cup of coffee and see what they want?
They probly do NOT want you.
And, if they DO want you, maybe they'll drop the charges.
Wouldn't that make a whole lot more sense?
And speaking of people you should definitely be nice to, "Attack of the 60 Foot Centerfold" poses the question, "What if your girlfriend was so huge she could smush you like an ant at any moment?" Pretty dang scary, huh? This is the long-awaited epic starring J.J. North as the ditzy blonde who takes just a little bit too many breast-enhancement drugs and ends up stomping around Malibu like the Godzilla Illustrated Swimsuit Issue.
Once this happens, the photographers and magazine publishers surrounding her do the sensitive, civilized thing: They stick her in a freak-show tent until they can get the photos they need for a six-crease fold-out. Unfortunately, the other models are jealous, so one of em steals her blue beauty vials and we end up with Duelling Bikini Behemoths, terrorizing the population in downtown Hollywood as they engage in a hair-pulling, traffic-stopping catfight.
Meanwhile, the inventor of the Hugeness Chemical is trying to develop an antidote by attempting to shrink his eight-foot-tall lab rat by spraying stage smoke on him. This gives us plenty of time for scenes of the 60-foot J.J. trying to keep her halter top in place, and repeatedly failing to do so.
My kinda movie, from the guy who brought us "Dinosaur Island" and many other fine tasteless epics--Fred Olen Ray his ownself.
Two dead bodies. Twenty-five breasts. One giant rat. Giant dart to the back. Exploding rat. Exploding supporting cast. Gratuitous chainsaw attack. Drive-In Academy Award nominations for Tammy Parks, as the bitchy redhead who says "Have you looked in the mirror lately? How old are you--THIRTY? Are your breasts getting smaller?"; the gorgeous J.J. North, in the title role, for saying "Help me, I'm huge!" and "I'm a big girl--I can take care of myself"; George Stover, as the lab assistant who screams "Oh my God, what have we done?"; the legendary Michelle Bauer, as the trigger-happy lab assistant who says "It might be too late!"; Jay Richardson, as the sleazoid magazine publisher who orders his girlfriend to carry all the bags because "I'm an equal-rights kinda guy" while telling J.J. "You're gonna be bigger than Elvis"; G. Gordon Baer, as the beefy cigar-chomping ratskin-boot-wearing exterminator; Tim Abell, as the photographer who just can't bring himself to have sex with a 60-foot woman; Ted Monte, as the geeky photographer's assistant who loves J.J. so much he orders 250 Fatburgers and brings them to her in a wheelbarrow; Raelynn Saalman, as the slinky suntanning Playmate who will do anything to be famous; and Fred Olen Ray, the producer/director, for doing things the drive-in way.
Four stars.
Joe Bob says check it out.
JOE BOB'S ADVICE TO THE HOPELESS
Victory Over Real Estate Vultures! The South Bay 6 Drive-In, located on Main Street just east of the harbor in Carson, Calif., sits on prime industrial land, but continues to function as an enormous crowd-pleasing six-screen theater, like God intended. Sam Graham of Des Moines, Ia., reminds us that, with eternal vigilance, the drive-in will never die. To discuss the meaning of life with Joe Bob, or to get free junk in the mail and Joe Bob's world famous newsletter, "The Joe Bob Report," write Joe Bob Briggs, P.O. Box 2002, Dallas, TX 75221, or Fax him at 214-985-7448, or e-mail him via his CompuServe mailbox: 76702,1435.
Dear Joe Bob Briggs,
Hello there! I read about you in the Whole Pop catalog book under drive-in movies.
I grew up in Thunder Bay, Ontario, where we would visit the Inter-City Drive-In which had burnt down some time ago. There has not been a drive-in theater there since.
I was just curious if you would be able to let me know if there is anyone who has those good old snack bar commercials for sale? I don't know what it is about those old commercials with the dancing French fries and things but I love em.
They sure worked on me, as I would enjoy going to the concession house and buy some food.
Anyhow, I was just curious if you might know anyone who might have these or where I should look to get them.
Have a great summer of watching movies at the drive-in.
Sincerely,
John Borkowski
Port Coquitlam, British Columbia, Canada
Dear
John:
You can get all those great old drive-in
intermission trailers from my buddy Greg Luce at Sinister Cinema. Write to him
at P.O. Box 4369, Medford, OR 97501-0168, and ask for a catalog.
Remember the hot dog weenie that jumped
into the bun?
Always got a BIG round of car-honking at my drive-in.
Joe Bob Briggs:
I do not ask you to believe me--prove it to yourself. Pure thought is pure light. Pure light will reflect all lesser light or consume it. The broken line is the subtle matter thought body which is the sum total of what you believe. What you believe is what prevents you from using pure light to heal yourself or anyone else. When you drop thought into the ether by the emotions in a vibration of love (pure light) it travels the universe and the pure light coming in must increase. This will cure AIDS.
If you want to know man's ego, watch a monkey. If you want to know God close the eyelids and watch the mirror. "But I can't see anything when I close my eyelids." "Well, turn on the light!" "I don't know how." You have the choice. You can choose to turn on the light or sit in the dark. Do nothing and that's what you become--nothing. Oh-oh. Well, gimme that light. My eyelids are closed. Thank you.
All light is conscious. What you believe is what keeps you from interacting with that light. Doubt keeps you in the dark. Doubt is the devil. Believe you are separate from pure light and you are.
The trail of karma is you and your subconscious history record that makes you what you are today. Letting in no bad thought (lesser light) and you begin dissolving karma (subconscious record). Nobody judges you but yourself. By entering your light center and sitting there all garbage will be exposed, for when you enter that center, nothing goes with you but love, faith, hope.
No gripes, no illness, no greed, no lust, no lies, no bull----, nothing in there but love (all-including bliss), faith (element substance), hope (wisdom, knowledge). Enter the center with garbage on the mind and you get the door slammed in the face. (Love, faith, hope is God's son.) They get in.
Charles R. Bond
McCloud, Calif.
Dear
Charles:
Where do cheeseburgers fit in?
Dear Joe Bob,
I would be very interested in your comments on actress Joan Severance. Up to a short time ago, I had never heard of this lady. I watched a film, "Worth Winning," in which she had a very tiny part but performed it in an even tinier micro-skirt revealing what have to be the most sensational legs on the screen today.
After that, I watched out for her, and I came across her in "Bird On A Wire" and "No Holds Barred," plus the best yet, "See No Evil, Hear No Evil," in which mini-skirts and dresses showed off those legs throughout the film. Fantastic! She also appears topless!
Since then things have got even better. Her appearances in "Criminal Intent" and "Red Shoe Diaries 2" have left absolutely nothing to the imagination, proving that the rest of her is just as superb as her legs. On top of all this (as if it mattered!), I think she is a tremendous actress. As I say, I would be interested in your opinion of this lady and I would be grateful if you can tell me of anything else that she's appeared in.
Anyway, I won't take up any more of your valuable time. Keep up the good work of promoting the B films--the best films. We miss a lot over here, and it's mainly through the efforts of people like yourself that we get to see a lot of what we do.
Very best wishes,
Brian Bower
Preston, Lancashire, England
Dear
Brian:
I agree. Joan Severance is becoming the
next . . . well . . . the next Shannon Tweed?
Somebody's gotta do it, right?
Dear Mr. Joe Bob Briggs:
Please apply your considerable powers of creative observation to the subject of drug prohibition. I don't believe I've read any of your thoughts on the subject.
I've been a fan of yours for a few years, since I started reading your drive-in movie reviews in the San Francisco Chronicle. I was happy to see that you're branching out to slightly more serious topics (not more serious than Killer Bimbos, though!), beyond the pink pages.
I must say, Joe, I think your stuff is brilliant. Your "The Ku Klux Media" was absolutely correct. Remember when they had that march through "all-white Forsythe County, Georgia"? I watched news reports of yahoos stoning about half a dozen marchers, and thought "I wonder if there'd even BE a report if everyone in the entire country just stayed home till the march was over." Sure enough, one week later, there was another march, thousands strong, with full coverage by all three networks and CNN. Maybe the Klan aren't the only ones who know how the game is played!
Anyway, back to drugs. They should be legal! Why? Why not?! I think all these arguments for legalization are unnecessary. Someone should be required to come up with a good reason for prohibition! Saying that they're not as bad as cigarettes and alcohol is useless. The guys running the show all smoke and drink like crazy.
Drug dealing pays too well. This makes the dealers go out and kill each other. We need to get the government involved at the retail level. Then there'll just be more corruption of government officials instead of killing of civilian dealers.
What do you think?
Sincerely,
David Bolich
Oakland, Calif.
Dear
David:
I agree with you that most drugs should
be legal. Then we probly wouldn't even have killer drugs like crack cocaine,
which is what happens when the country goes into a recession and so the dealers
have to figure out how to sell at a lower unit price.
Never forget, the only safe crack is the one that sticks up out of your underwear.
Joe Bob--
To say that the federal government is busted and has been busted and will stay thataway ain't no more than sayin that it would be all right to have a seat heater on a Harley-D when you cross the Arctic circle.
JBB--Heard tell of Charles de Secondat? NO, that ain't Charlie Deuce the Tonapah, New Mexico, card dealer or the Amarillo used-truck guy. How's about Baron de Montesquieu? Them's one and the same, Joe Bob. Little Jimmy Madison wrote the country's second Constitution while his neighbor Tom Jeff was over in France. Now in the old Federalist Paper No. 14 is Jimmy's accounting fer Article 1, which stuck us with the following: a republic instead of a democracy, which meant representative haggling stead of direct town meeting action; the Congress was to take our right to govern ourselves, but we got to pick them every couple of years after things had cooled down from what made us mad at them in the first place. (If any of this recollects the story of Jacob and how he got that thar birthright that really didn't long to him--we're on the same CQ, Kenneth!). Madison put down Charlie Montesquieu's slops that any place bigger than a couple of hundred sections with at least two hotels and a dozen card rooms couldn't be run by its population. Used the same damn turkey quill pen to write down that No. 14 that he used in Philadelphia I'd bet. Jimmy got taken in by a guy that, had George W met him, would have the Continental Intelligence Agency build a file on that Charlie Jasper half the size of the ICC freight rate books fer the MKT Railroad kept in the necessary. Think of it, Joe Bob, long before them there Marx Engels and skinheaded Lenins had schemed to outlaw the NFL draft, we had a time bomb hooked up to the odometer of the Willys. Gets two centuries and kerblam!
We need to look at the ratio of Congressmen to citizens. My Texas Instrument calc tells me that it's identical to the mass ratio of the brain (walnut size) of the fattest dinosaur without a national radio program to its bulk: 535/228,000,000. Joe Bob, the transistor replaced the vacuum tube, and our direct votes by computers should replace that Chinese abacus kept in the Capitol by all those lying, triple-dealing, 900-dollar-suit-wearing, pinky-ring-flashin-off-of-manicured-hands, right-out-the-tannin-salon-inside-the-lobbyist-jet-back-from-Betty-Ford's-clinic, all-GOD-damned-sonsofbitches and broken down whores that sat two rows over from us in school and farted after ever fed lunch that went heavy on the peanut butter and baloney sandwiches.
Saddle up, Joe Bob, we got to save the Union that is our America by riding down all those wimps that say a republic is all we're good enough for.
Your drive-in buddy,
Joseph Conrad Boyle
Rohnert Park, Calif.
Dear
Joseph Conrad:
Lemme get this straight. You're saying we shouldn't have a democracy, because it'll just get all screwed up by people like you and me?
© 1995 Joe Bob Briggs All Rights Reserved