Friday, January 07, 2005

Whatever happened to Alyce LaTourelle?

I remember 1999, and baby, it wasn't the party that Prince had led us to believe all those years. 1999 was the second hardest year of my life, it was the year I finally had to admit to my family, to my mentors, and to myself that I wasn't going to be what they expected. I wasn't going to be the white picket fence, the dog, two cats, 2.5 kids, a volvo, and a lovely holiday at disney twice a decade.

It just wasn't going to happen. It wasn't the gay thing (that's so 80s), it was the year I admitted that I loved horror films.

At the same time Lloyd Kaufman was "making some art", some trash art called "Terror Firmer". Lloyd, the iconic leader of Troma Studios, has produced some of the most dubious art ever committed to film. "Sgt. Kabukiman NYPD!", "Toxic Avenger 1 -4", "Slaughter Party", and my personal favorites "Sucker", "Class of Nukem' High", and "Tromeo and Juliet".

Let's be clear there is nothing redeemable about "Terror Firmer", it is a confusing mash of porn, violence, and, well, poop jokes. It is trash of the first degree. It is Troma Studios screaming as loud as possible, "FUCK YOU HOLLYWOOD!!!!!"

They are making irredeemable trash because they can, because they're everything John Waters wishes he could be. They are INDEPENDENT, not independent "look at our clever art film that is so smart we got Nicole Kidman to sign on" or "look at my VISION", this is honking in your face, "WE DON'T CARE IF YOU LOOK!"

It's everything hollywood hates; it's not about the slick image, it's not about the money. It's about screwing the man, and the woman, and the dog, and the hideously deformed cow creature with the huge utters.

It's about head explosions, and eyeballs, and severed limbs. It's a salute to the bawdy, and a slap in the face for every emotionally manipulative dramedy aimed at suburban America. Troma is often called the Punk Rock of Cinema, and Terror Firmer is that mohawk headed, tatooed, androgynous, heroin addicted singer screaming incomprehensibly into the mike at the top of his lungs, "I HATE YOU! DIE! DIE! DIE!"

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