Showing posts with label erik estrada. Show all posts
Showing posts with label erik estrada. Show all posts

Friday, June 3, 2016

Trackdown (1976)



          Tough, nasty, and violent, Trackdown tells the story of a modern-day cowboy who travels to the big city because his little sister has gone missing, then dives headlong into a cesspool of human exploitation and organized crime while looking for his lost sibling. The movie is something of a cousin to Paul Schrader’s provocative Hardcore (1979), although Schrader’s movie deals with pornography instead of prostitution, and there’s a big gulf between the theologically charged Hardcore and the no-frills Trackdown. Still, what both movies share is the rich premise of a man from a simple place wading through the muck of late-’70s Los Angeles, where pretty dreamers looking for new opportunities are easy prey for flesh merchants. In fact, had a stronger actor been cast in the lead of Trackdown, the movie might have found a niche among the era’s memorable exploitation films, since it benefits from a well-constructed plot, interesting supporting characters, and vivid action scenes. Alas, while James Mitchum inherited his father Robert’s hangdog eyes and hulking physique, he didn’t get his dad’s charisma or talent.
          The picture begins with Betsy Calhoun (Karen Lamm) running away from her Montana home and taking a bus to Hollywood. Almost immediately after her arrival, she’s mugged by a group of Latino street toughs, but one of the Latinos takes sympathy on her plight. He’s Chucho (Erik Estrada). Chucho gives Lynn a place to crash and a lead on work, so they become friends—but Chucho’s cronies have designs on the pretty blonde. They kidnap and drug Lynn, delivering her to Johnny Dee (Vince Cannon), a mob-connected pimp. He entrusts Lynn to high-priced call girl Barbara (Anne Archer), who offers to train Lynn as a prostitute. In one of the picture’s most interesting nuances, Lynne accepts the overture after she’s recovered from the influence of drugs—as she explains, there’s a reason she left small-town America for the bright lights and endless promise of the Golden State. Once Lynn’s brother, Jim (Mitchum), shows up to “rescue” her, he quickly learns that he’s looking for someone who doesn’t want to be found.
          Lest the preceding give the false impression that Trackdown is a sensitive exploration of human feeling, it should be emphasized that Trackdown is a lowbrow thrill ride. (Note the fact that Cathy Lee Crosby, who plays a social worker and provides a love interest for Mitchum’s character, spends most of the movie wearing skin-tight jeans and revealing tied-off shirts.) Nonetheless, the filmmakers take their time establishing characters and situations in logical ways, so once the shooting starts, there’s a believable emotional context. Furthermore, while one might expect this sort of film to be presented in the grungy style of a Roger Corman-produced quickie, Trackdown instead has the look of a studio picture, and the polished images get juiced by tasty, disco-infused musical scoring. 

Trackdown: FUNKY

Friday, April 13, 2012

The Cross and the Switchblade (1970)


Made by a group of people whom, one fears, believed their story could help change the world, this silly Christian drama depicts a saintly layperson whose goodness and perseverance transform various hard-luck cases in a gang-ridden section of New York City. Pat Boone, the Bible-thumping crooner who achieved fame with his clean-cut movies and songs in the ’50s, plays David Wilkerson, a Midwestern do-gooder whose parish takes up a collection to pay his way to the Big Apple so he can intervene on behalf of street kids caught up in gang violence. Absurdly naïve and square, David zeroes in on Nicky Cruz (Erik Estrada), the hot-tempered boss of a Latino gang, as well as Nicky’s troubled squeeze, Rosa (Jacqueline Giroux). David presents himself to these two and their cohorts, repeatedly delivering the message that, “Someone loves you, and his name is Jesus Christ.” Nicky responds by brandishing a switchblade and threatening to cut David unless he goes away. Instead, Our Intrepid Hero finds a place to stay with local Christians, and then spends day after day giving street-corner sermons and offering comfort to gang members who come to him about various crises. Meanwhile, a turf war brews between Nicky’s crew and an African-American gang. As he tries to defuse this explosive situation, David somehow manages to persuade Rosa to give up both heroin and prostitution, so the example of her “salvation” changes Nicky’s mind. In the movie’s goofy climax, David stages a revival meeting and invites the warring gangs to attend, but before the event devolves into a bloodbath, Nicky announces that he’s found Jesus and wishes to renounce violence. (During Nicky’s epiphany, special effects depict a luminous cross appearing over Boone’s head, and background singers coo the words, “God loves Nicky Cruz!”) The leader of the black gang says volumes by watching this spectacle and then announcing, “Wow, man, I really don’t dig this scene tonight at all.” Sensible viewers will have the same reaction to The Cross and the Switchblade, which combines amateurish acting, ham-fisted writing, and perfunctory direction into nearly two hours of drab sermonizing inspired by the experiences of the real-life Wilkerson.

The Cross and the Switchblade: LAME