Liz Tells Frank What Happened In...

Dear Frank,

Happy almost-Halloween! The perfect time for a foray into that most classic of horror films, the 1968 “Night of the Living Dead.” I am usually a giant fraidycat during horror movies, but, fingers crossed, George A. Romero’s first foray into the zombie genre won’t have the truly scary stuff figured out yet.

Down to business. Serious scary black and white business. We start off with two young people who look like Brad and Janet from Rocky Horror. (Okay, they’re brother and sister, but that doesn’t matter much when it comes to “Rocky Horror” comparisons.)

Anyhoo, because they are young people and it’s the 60s, they’re whining a lot about parental obligations — specifically, having to come out and put a wreath on their dead father’s grave. When Janet admits to being a little creeped out by the cemetery Brad’s a dick and totally taunts Janet— okay, her name is Barbara. I know this now, because Brad has THE CREEPIEST LINE EVER.

Brad’s giving Barbara shit in the above scene because some random duder is wandering around the cemetery at 8 PM and she thinks he might be some sort of monster — SPOILER ALERT HE IS A MONSTER, who first attacks Barbara, then Brad.

When Brad’s head gets whacked on a gravestone, Barbara totally ditches him and flees for her life. (I love my brother, but I kinda see where she’s coming from here.) Turns out this is like the smartest Z-word ever, though — (fun fact alert: the word “zombie” is never uttered during the course of this movie) — because he uses a ROCK to break the car window. The genre in its infancy, Frank.

Barbara flees, in a weird flailing sort of way, into a farmhouse with a gas pump outside (that strikes me as weird, but I am not familiar with country folk); the Z-word chasing her (who looks like a very tall Ray Wise, tell you the truth) lurks outside.

But moments into Barbara taking refuge in the house, she gets a houseguest, whose name is Ben and is THE BEST. Ben shows up and is like, oh, cool, a safe place to crash, and don’t worry, blondie, I’ll take care of you.

Ben is black, which wouldn’t normally be worth mentioning except that I have seen Mad Men and thus know that the 60s were not a happy sunny racial paradise. So the fact that the smartest and most capable person in this movie (who’s not above punching a hysterical lady) is black is pretty damn impressive. Hell, in striking contrast to modern horror films, he’s not even the first to die!

Point is, Ben is EXACTLY the kind of guy you want to hang out with during a Z-word emergency — skilled at activities like boarding up the windows, smart enough to figure out that the Z-words are afraid of fire and find the shotgun that belonged to the original owners.

He also, as mentioned before, knocks out Barbara when she starts talking about going to rescue her brother. Barbara has devolved, since fleeing from Ray Wise, from relatively capable Final Girl candidate into full-on catatonic mess. So I can’t say I disagree with Ben’s reasoning or methods here.

Now that Ben’s got everything boarded up, it’s about time for a twist, and that’s when the people hiding in the cellar decide to poke their heads out! One of them is bald and annoying and thinks that the cellar is the safest place to hide with his wife and “sick” daughter (sick from a Z-word bite UH-OH), but when Ben won’t let him take food or the radio downstairs, he and college boy Tom (who’s also hiding in the cellar with his coed sweetheart Judy) agree to relocate upstairs.

They spend a LOT of time watching the news, which is a big ol’ infodump about how these mass murders (which, the newscaster gleefully reports, are followed by the undead cannibalizing the new corpses) are all NASA’s fault — a satellite orbiting Venus may have brought back the infection keeping the dead alive. Whoops! Stupid Venus.

Z-words are milling about outside as a reminder of why exactly slow Z-words can be even scarier than fast Z-words — slow Z-words can be outrun, but there are just so fucking many of them. And they never give up.

Announcements are made about rescue stations in the area, and most everyone (except Baldie the spoilsport) wants to go to one, especially Tom, who has my favorite line of the whole fucking movie: “The television said that’s the right thing to do.” I believe strongly in this line of dialogue, just like Maggie Simpson.

In order to do so, though, they have to fill up Ben’s pick-up truck from the gas pump. And at this point there are like thirty Z-words waiting outside to eat them. Ben has a plan, though, involving Baldie throwing Molotov cocktails from an upper-story window while he and Tom fill up the truck without accidentally setting the truck on fire.

Unfortunately, Ben’s plan does not go perfectly when it comes to that last part. I’m not totally sure how Tom managed to set the truck on fire while filling it up, but I do know that that truck? Totally on fire.

And for some reason, Judy decided she wanted to come along on this mission, and when her sweater gets stuck while trying to get out of the truck, she and Tom both go BOOM. Tom and Judy were nice people, but I’m thinking that for the good of the gene pool, it’s probably for the best that they never got a chance to reproduce.

Ben flees to the house, but Baldie (who’s jealous of how much THE BEST Ben is) hesitates to let Ben in. Ben handles this situation by kicking open the door and giving Baldie the Barbara treatment. To quote the wise scholar Rose McGowan in Scream: “Boom boom bitch go down!”

Oh, and now the Z-words are eating Tom and Judy. Lovely. Lovely. According to the IMDB Trivia page for this movie, the actors were provided with baked ham covered with chocolate sauce for this bit. Deeeeeeeeeelightful.

The TV, which is still telling us the right things to do, is now referring to the Z-words as “ghouls” and picked up on that most important bit of Z-word lore: Aim for the head.

Conflict between Ben and Baldie is at an all-time high, and while Ben’s trying to keep a pack of Z-words from breaking down the door, Baldie steals Ben’s gun in a power grab clearly designed to lead to Ben’s death. Given that this is the second time Baldie’s quasi-tried to kill Ben, I got no problem at all with Ben shooting Baldie, who retreats to the cellar.

Except whoops, remember Baldie’s “sick” daughter Karen? She’s better now, if by better you mean “no longer suffering from the effects of a Z-word bite and instead now actually a Z-word.” And Karen’s in a bad mood — first she eats Baldie’s arm off, then, when Karen’s mom comes downstairs to see what’s going on, stabs her over and over again with a spade. (Again with the Z-words using tools. Romero clearly hadn’t worked out what it means to be undead yet.)

Ben, meanwhile, just watched Barbara’s reunion with her brother — he’s having so much fun being a Z-word, he drags her away to join the party! Poor stupid Barbara. I had such hopes for her.

The house is now full of Z-words, including young Karen, so Ben takes refuge in the cellar after disposing quickly of the newly-Z-worded Baldie and Karen’s mom. Morning comes, and the house empties of Z-words, leaving Ben free and clear to make his escape.

So now you’re like, awesome, now Ben gets his well-deserved happy ending. Oh, but here comes the mother of all WHOOPSIES. A bunch of (noticeably all-white) sheriffs and deputies and duders with guns are roaming the countryside disposing of the Z-word menace, and when they get to the house Ben’s hiding in, Ben’s like, oh, this sounds like help, I’ll see what’s going on. And then the sherrif’s deputy SHOOTS BEN IN THE HEAD, and they drag his corpse out of the house and burn it in a bonfire.

THE WORST, Frank, the absolute saddest. I’ll be honest and say that I didn’t find this movie as scary as I would have liked — there’s some great character development and some decent jump moments, but most of the big scares are a little too telegraphed for a modern first-time viewer.

The scariest bit, ultimately, is the reminder that Z-word apocalypse or not, it really sucked to be a black guy in 1968.

Love,
Liz

Dear Frank,

The bullets I take for you keep getting bigger and bigger, but I don’t know how I’m going to top the first book in the Left Behind series, because this insanely popular global phenomenon (16 books! 25 bajillion copies sold! at least sixty souls saved!) is just… Just… Oh, I lack the words at this moment.

But let’s make something clear up top — I’m not anti-religion in the slightest. What I am is anti-bigotry, anti-ignorance, anti-hatred and anti-judgment (except when it comes to shitty media). This keeps me at odds with most contemporary Christian denominations, especially ones that seem to really enjoy reading a poorly-written Tom Clancy-esque rendition of the Rapture unfolding on Earth.

(Yes, I am aware of the feature film starring Kirk Cameron, and that it would be far easier for me to watch that awful movie as opposed to reading this awful book. But the born-again version of Kirk Cameron weirds me the fuck out. Fun party game, Frank: Doing his Way of the Master “Are you a good person?” quiz with friends. “Okay, who here has lust in their hearts?”)

Writers Tim LaHaye (the guy in charge of the Bible stuff) and Jerry B. Jenkins (the guy in charge of the writing stuff) kick things off with a truly sanctimonious dedication to two women “who ensured we would not be left behind.” Then we’re meeting Rayford Steele (sigh), an airplane pilot with a happy nuclear family but lust in his heart for his hottie lead flight attendant Hattie.

Rayford’s lust isn’t his fault, though. It’s his wife’s fault, because recently she’s become a hardcore born again Bible-thumper and that’s a real turn-off for him. (NOT MAKING THIS UP THIS IS HOW HE REALLY FEELS.)

Oh, but Rayford’s not a God-less atheist or anything. He just thinks “God is OK” and that his casual approach to faith won’t fuck him over when the Rapture comes. Whoops!

Because then the Rapture happens, on page 16, while Rayford’s flying his international airplane to Europe and musing about how deep he wants to bury his bone in Hattie. (Sorry, the more puritanical the literature, the dirtier my mind gets.)

Oh, before then, we got some flashbacks to some crazy Biblical shit that was happening in Israel, courtesy of Buck the Ace Reporter, who’s flying first-class because he’s a member of the Godless media. But right now let’s just stay focused on how a hundred passengers have just disappeared off the airplane, leaving their clothes behind, and that the world below is in chaos.

It takes Rayford four pages to figure out that his wife was totally right about the Rapture and that he’s been left behind. Way to keep the mystery alive, duder. By the way, this is one of those books where everyone’s referred to by their full names on pretty much every occasion. And it’s not Ray, it’s Rayford. Boy I’m glad I don’t have a gun right now.

It’s on page 19 that the weird dilemma of Left Behind becomes apparent. Because the thing is, now that all the saved people have fled the mortal plane and apocalypse is upon us, the only characters in the book are unclean and unchosen. Yet, in theory, for this to be at all engaging (the way that it clearly is to some — seriously, can actual numbers count how many copies of these books have been sold?), we have to be able to emphasize with these characters at least a little, for many many more books. It’s an interesting challenge Messrs. LaHaye and Jenkins have set forth for themselves.

(Spoiler alert: They pretty much fail.)

Post-Rapture, there’s the expected looting and freaking out amongst those God screwed over. Suicides are common. But not Rayford! For one thing, he’s getting a helicopter ride back to his suburban Chicago home (with Hattie on his lap — hoo boy!), and he’s also got an unsaved college-age daughter named Chloe waiting for him. Alas, his wife and young son have flown the coop.

Cut back to Ace Reporter Buck, who’s hot on the case of what caused this — and who’s been told by his editor that a bunch of international Jewish organizations have been meeting recently and maybe that’s the cause. WHO DOES’T LOVE A JEWISH CONSPIRACY? Topical Rick Sanchez reference!

Hattie’s off trying to track down her family, Rayford’s moping about how his son and wife are gone, and Buck’s getting the scoop on the Anti-Christ Nicolae Carpathia (sigh), a Romanian politician who’s emerged on the world stage as a calming figure for the panicked. The Anti-Christ Nicolae Carpathia gets the approval of The World’s Most Important Jew, Chaim Rosenzweig (sigh), so he must be good news, right?

I take it back. I wish I had a gun.

Oh, especially after Buck says, re: religion, “The Jews hate Jesus.” WHAT? This is in the course of a big Buck section about the world switching to a single currency and streamlining all finances, to make it easier for an individual to take it over — like, say, the Anti-Christ Nicolae Carpathia? YET MORE SPOILERS, FRANK!

Then we get back to feeling sad about how all the kids everywhere got Raptured, and Rayford (fuck it, Rayford is the stupidest name ever, I’m calling him Ray now) is reading the Bible, and I’ll be honest with you, Frank, I’m now pretty much just flipping through the pages in the hopes of getting through this faster.

Ray’s daughter Chloe shows up after taking a bunch of planes from Stanford to Chicago, and the two of them fight over whether or not Jesus took Mom on a joyride to Heaven. (Because Chloe is a young woman, she is clearly on the wrong side of this fight.) But then Ray and Chloe watch a videotape (1995!) made for people left behind, and a whole lot of Jesus talk later Ray has accepted Christ as his savior and accepted what’s happened to the world. Chloe’s pretty skeptical, though, and the only thing that keeps me from liking her is the fact that I’m sure this won’t last.

Oh fuck me freddy I’m only halfway through this. Okay, Buck’s trying to investigate the Jewish conspiracy, despite the occasional assassination attempt. Ray wants to convert Hattie, while playing things cool with her heart because he feels guilty about wanting to bang her in those heady pre-page 16 days. Hattie is sad about how her abortion counselor sister is out of work. Flying Spaghetti Monster, this gets worse and worse…

Buck finally meets the Anti-Christ Nicholae Carpathia, who’s so charming and suave and reassuring and vaguely resembles a young Robert Redford (so sayeth LaHaye and Jenkins, anyway)!

He’s so smooth and reassuring that Buck’s boss Steve goes to work with him as a press agent, leaving Buck to take over running the Global Weekly Jewish Conspiracy Rag.

There’s a bit of a love triangle here, btw, between Buck, Hattie and Ray. Except that Buck’s trying to woo Hattie with an introduction to now world-famous the Anti-Christ Nicholae Carpathia, while Ray’s totally over trying to bang her, but wants to save her immortal soul. Frank, just a tip — one of these approaches works on girls in the real world, and one of them doesn’t. Hopefully, you can figure it out on your own.

In the Left Behind world, however, Hattie gets turned off Buck because of this stunt, but that’s okay because Buck’s just fallen madly in love with Chloe (who he meets because he wants to interview Ray for some reason). RAPTURE = GETTING A SHOT AT HOT YOUNG BABES. That is what we’re all learning today.

Because this leaves Hattie free for Ray to scoop her up with the classic line “I’m sorry I nearly adulterated with you and I want you to consider becoming born again.” She’s into it, AT LEAST FOR NOW.

Meanwhile, Chloe is so touched by all the stuff Ray says in his interview with Buck about the Bible predicting the end of the world that she finally converts! Oh, and she’s totally into Buck too! Double hooray!

And get ready for the double-plus hooray — Buck has figured out that Nicholae Carpathia is (gasp!) the Anti-Christ. So he and Chloe and Ray, affirmed in their belief that world events are echoing what the Bible predicted (go Bible!), decide to start a secret Green Beret organization to fight Carpathia and remain pure in the coming days of fire. Seriously, the Green Berets are the reference point, though there’s no word as to whether or not they’ll wear fancy hats.

But they’re not all one big happy family — the Anti-Christ Nicholae Carpathia has not only taken over all the world governments and revealed himself privately as evil, but he’s gotten Hattie to join his side. (That is the one major hazard of the introduce-the-hottie-to-a-famous-person wooing plan, btw.) This looks like a job for the Tribulation Force! In the sequel, that is. Because this book is over. Happy sigh.

Fun fact, Frank: In the course of writing this, I did my very best to avoid taking the Lord’s name in vain, because for some reason it felt wrong to do so. Like rubbing salt in the wound, I suppose. Because man oh man. If there is a God, He deserves better fiction than this.

Love,
Liz

Dear Frank,

So, I know that you have, technically, seen Showgirls — once, many many years ago. But here’s the thing, Frank — to only watch Showgirls once is to not be fully aware of just how transcendent a piece of entertainment it is; understanding Showgirls requires constant vigilance and study.

Of course, I say this as someone who watched Paul Verhoeven’s boob-straganza at least six times since its release on Laserdisc, two of which happened in the process of writing the paper “Bitchy or Just Misunderstood? All About Eve, Showgirls, and Female Melodrama” while studying film at USC. (TRUE STORY. I got an A-minus instead of an A because I spent too much time making fun of Showgirls. Looking back over the last ten years, I have clearly not learned my lesson.)

Comparing Showgirls to All About Eve is remarkably easy, because the former is essentially a remake of the latter. (Even the Razzies were aware of this.) Except that instead of being told from multiple points of view, Showgirls is seen entirely through the eyes of the batshit crazy ingenue hitching to Vegas to make her fortune.

Wearing her finest slutty paisley blouse, our gal Jessie Spano from Saved by the Bell (a cultural touchstone of our generation) and her Samsonite get picked up by a guy who my boyfriend, two days after watching it for the first time, still refers to as “that Elvis fella.”

The second Elvis gets handsy, Jessie whips out her switchblade and screams at him, because Jessie is, as aforementioned, batshit crazy. I’m not saying that it’s unreasonable for her to hope that she travel unmolested; I’m just saying that her reaction would be more appropriate to him pinning her down and violating her. (Whoops! Spoilers!) Just assume that any time Jessie does anything in this movie, it is an over-reaction, and over-acted.

Jessie and Elvis arrive in Vegas, where he promises to hook her up with a job (given that her only clear job skills so far are having boobs and her own switchblade, it’s interesting to ponder what he has in mind) but distracted by the slot machines, Jessie doesn’t even notice that he’s driven off with her suitcase. This causes her to fling herself into oncoming Vegas Strip traffic — like you do — but at the last second she’s pulled to safety!

Her savior is a nice young lady named Molly, whose reaction to meeting this batshit crazy woman is to offer her a place to stay. Molly’s a wardrobe gal for a super-glam topless revue called “Goddess”; for a while, you think she’s going to be the only woman in this movie to escape nudity, but oh, you are wrong in the worst possible way.

Six weeks later, Molly and Jessie are besties, and Jessie is working for a less-than-classy strip joint called the Cheetah, which features plenty of girl-on-girl action as well as a zaftig stand-up comic who makes a lot of jokes about her ladybits. Jessie, as strippers go, ain’t too bad at her job, but she wants to be a “dancer” — a desire revealed when Molly sneaks her into “Goddess” and from the audience she mimics their fancy dance moves.

The show’s titular Goddess is played by Gina Gershon, who is the best and the funniest and calls everyone “darlin’.” To describe her performance in one word? Predatory. I mean, she’s a flat-out lesbian who’s very taken with Jessie from the beginning, though she’s also having sex with show manager Kyle McLachlan, which is probably why he’s trying to make his hair look butch.

Jessie doesn’t like Gina Gershon very much, because Gina’s idea of foreplay involves some super-catty put-downs, but later Gina and Kyle McLachlan’s haircut go to the Cheetah and Gina pays Jessie five hundred dollars to give Kyle a lapdance make him come in his pants.

Apparently this was a job interview, because another night a scout for “Goddess” comes by and offers Jessie an audition; she does well because she’s a dick to the dickish director, but is insulted when told to ice her nipples for full erect-ness. Despite storming out in a psychotic rage, though, she’s still offered the job — because, as she finds out later, Gina Gershon fixed it that way.

But, whatever, Jessie’s moved up to the big leagues — showing her tits to a ballroom of folks enjoying $10 steaks, while wearing a wide assortment of costumes. It’s at about this point in the movie that you become completely numb to the sight of naked breasts.

There are a number of funny little moments during this section of the film — Jessie buys a fancy dress from Versace and says the designer’s name proudly and phonetically, Jessie nearly gets whored out at a boat show to a Japanese businessman, Jessie seduces Kyle McLachlan and uses her abdominal core strength to turn his swimming pool into a jacuzzi.

That last item is a feat of physicality that is probably the most striking moment of Showgirls and Frank, I would dearly love to show it to you. However, because it is so very very not safe for work, the below will have to take its place.

Oh, by the way, there’s this whole other subplot where this guy who sees Jessie dancing at a club tries to get her to star in his modern dance show that he “choreographed just for her” (by “tries to get her to star” I mean “tries to bone her”). He is played by Glenn Plummer, who also appeared in Speed and Strange Days more likely because of his pretty cool dreadlocks than any real acting ability.

Jessie and Glenn do some sexy dancing at his loft but because she is a sociopath, she teases him and ditches him. I think his purpose in the film is to show that not all men are unredeemable bastards; however, he does end up knocking up the new girl at the Cheetah (who did fall for the “choreographed just for her” line), so it’s not really a victory for mankind.

Not that women really get out of this movie looking any better. Jessie gets so sick of being pushed around by Gina Gershon that she pushes back — literally, she pushes Gina Gershon down the stairs after a show, breaking Gina’s hip (Because Gina is so old! Like Bette Davis in All About Eve!Homage!) And after her little swimming pool session with Kyle McLachlan, Jessie’s Gina’s understudy and the new star of “Goddess”! Hooray!

I mean, Molly’s mad at her, because Molly saw Jessie pushing Gina. But Molly’s only trace of sexuality is that she has a hardcore crush on this Yanni-like singer named Andrew Carver, and when Molly finds out that Andrew Carver will be at Jessie’s big “fuck yeah I’m Goddess!” party, well, what’s a little attempted murder between friends?

So Molly shows up at the party and giddily meets Andrew Carver, who immediately lets his friends gang-rape her. This scene is gross and horrifying and completely unnecessary (not that any of this movie is necessary, but whatever); I have tried to prepare you for it by making some references to rape earlier, but rape jokes are never funny and really you just feel very very sad for Molly.

Confession, Frank — during my most recent rewatch of this last Saturday, with a delightful crew of friends, I fell asleep around this point (in part because if you drink every time Jessie hits something or says the word “dance,” you drink more than a little bit). But all that really happens is that Jessie’s secret hooker past is discovered by the “Goddess” management (who actually insist on paying their dancers legally and doing background checks — good for them!).

It’s thus time for Jessie to skip town, but before she does, she does have some unfinished business. First, Jessie puts on hooker boots and nipstick and goes over to Andrew Carver’s house to beat the shit out of him with her ninja stripper skills. “Goddess” may have found out about her secret hooker past, but did they uncover any training with the CIA?

And then Jessie goes to see Gina in the hospital. They make out and then Gina gives Jessie her signature cowboy hat. Because these are things that rational human beings do. Did you know that Joe Eszterhas was paid $3.7 million for writing this script? Because he totally was.

Finally, Jessie hitches her way out of town — and boy oh boy, who should pick her up but Elvis! Switchblade fun ensues, as Jessie was really very fond of her Samsonite. This seems like an ignoble ending for our heroine — alone, her only friend brutally raped, her fame brief and transitory. Yet when asked if she won big in Vegas, Jessie says yes.

And that, truly, is why she’s insane. Remember that, Frank, as you pursue your dreams in the rough-and-tumble entertainment world. Remember always, Frank, to bring your switchblade.

Love,
Liz

Dear Frank,

How weird is it that last week, two days after you said to me, “Liz, what happens in the 1983 pilot for the A-Team?” the show’s co-creator Stephen J. Cannell dies? The answer is that it is seriously weird, and makes me suspect you have secret psychic powers.

In tribute to the work of Mr. Cannell, we shall not mention once this summer’s feature adaptation of the series and instead focus on what matters: Bad-ass 80s-style action and adventure conveniently available on Hulu. Plus an important message: Smoking is cool!

The A-Team pilot is like, BAM, you wanna know what this show about? We’re gonna tell you RIGHT FUCKING NOW, during the main credits. (This is such a great theme song, by the way. Mike Post also did the theme for Doogie Houser! The man is an 80s synth legend.)

It’s a helluva premise — dudes escape from military prison to clear their names and solve crime — and a helluva cast. By my standards, anyway. My standards being “Oh, my god, Lt. Barclay from Star Trek: The Next Generation? NO WAY!”

Oh, and Mr. T, of course. Even though he’s been famous for decades, it is still surreal to see his name on screen. “Not only will my client receive final placement in the title sequence, but please confirm that ‘T’ is preceded by ‘Mr.’ in its abbreviated form.”

So this episode is called “Mexican Slayride,” which I’m pretty sure is a terrible pun. Though does it count as a pun if the first scene features a bunch of ruffians terrorizing a village of poor Mexican farmers? Well, no one gets slain or ridden right away. So I guess the title’s not literal yet.

Though that American journalist hiding in the village (who reminds me a lot of Darren McGavin, maybe because of the hat) does have a pretty low life expectancy right now, what with him getting nabbed by the banditos. When we smash back to America, his editor thinks that Darren’s just on vacation, but Plucky Young Reporter Dame suspects foul play. I’m not sure if she has a name, because the editor keeps calling her girl and baby and sweetheart and whatever (HEART YOU WOMAN’S MOVEMENT), so we’ll just call her April O’Neil for now.

April is on the case to find out what happened to Gavin, and she’s also looking out for a team of ninja turtles commandos there have been rumors about. A nerdy researcher who is totally her bitch tells her that the A-Team is nothing but urban legend, but then in the very next scene he proceeds to detail their entire life stories, complete with dossiers and full-color candid photos. A-PLUS STORYTELLING HERE.

Oh, and then we finally meet, you know, the main characters of the show. It only took fifteen minutes! (Well, three of the main characters. No sign yet of Lt. Barclay.)

John “Hannibal” Smith gets a real hero’s entrance — wearing a rubber sea monster costume on a film set. The director’s asking him to stay underwater for three minutes; Hannibal’s kind of cranky about the whole that-will-probably-kill-me thing, and so when Mr. T and the Pretty Boy (okay, his name is Face, I’ll go with that because it’s shorter) show up to say that the fuzz is onto them, he’s not heartbroken about skeddalling.

And then there’s an exciting car chase through Universal’s studio lot! It’s actually kind of entertaining, mostly because Hannibal’s still wearing the sea monster costume whilst smoking a cigar. Frank, this show may not be highbrow entertainment, but it’s actually kind of adorable. They escape by trapping the Colonel chasing them in the Red Sea attraction. ADORABLE.

Hannibal calls Lt. Barclay, who’s currently camped out at the VA mental hospital, to warn him that the Army is on their trail. But guess who’s already hanging with Barclay? April O’Neil! She wants the A-Team to help her find Darren McGavin, but Barclay’s focused on acting crazy in a really posh room — his own bathroom, a basketball hoop, a Pac Man machine? Your government dollars at work.

But Barclay’s Looney Tunes mystique appears to be key to keeping the Colonel off the A-Team’s scent — the Colonel just stopped by to visit and there was a whole lotta blather about that and I got kinda bored and looked at the internet for a while. (There’s gonna be a Troop Beverly Hills/Don’t Tell Mom the Babysitter’s Dead double-feature in November, Frank!)

Before April left Barclay’s sweet bachelor pad, he told her that if she wanted to hire the A-Team, she had to wait in a dark alley at 2 AM. She does so, which leads Hannibal, in a series of disguises, to taunt her for no discernible purpose. One of those disguises? A chop-socky Chinaman who makes Mickey Rooney in Breakfast at Tiffany’s look like The Joy Luck Club.

But they take the job. Hooray! Hannibal and BA pick up April while Face gets Barclay out of the hospital so that he can fly a purloined Gulfstream to Mexico. BA’s a pussy about flying with Barclay (what with Barclay being crazy), not to mention flying in general, but then Hannibal drugs him with novocaine and manhandles him onto the plane. Leadership skills!

And we’re off to Mexico! On the plane, there’s a lot of bitching about how April only has $25,000 to pay them with, which “won’t even keep them in jet fuel.” Jesus that’s a lot of money to spend on saving someone who looks like Darren McGavin.

Once the A-Team gets to Mexico, they start poking around Acapulco looking for clues. That translates into “bar fight,” by the way, one of those amazing classic bar fights, up to and including the moment where Hannibal punches a guy through a plane glass window. It’s pretty awesome.

But then it’s all “let’s get a bunch of stuff to go take on the banditos,” which they do by telling the Mexico Film Commission that they’re making a feature starring “Bo” (Derek?) and “Daryl” (Hannah?). SMOOTH UP TO DATE REFERENCES TO 1983’S BIGGEST STARS! For a bunch of guys who just broke out of military prison, the A-Team sure is Hollywood savvy.

Prep prep prep. Fun fact about Mr. T — he attracts packs of underprivileged children wherever he goes.

But when they finally make their move, the banditos prove to be worthy adversaries with a lot more guns and weapons, thus leading to Hannibal, Mr. T and April’s capture. I suppose it’s all very exciting, but because I have no idea why exactly April is willing to spend my yearly salary to save Darren: Eh.

Classic dialogue: “We’re going to escape! Give me your hat!”

That line is uttered because Hannibal puts on another disguise, this one not terribly offensive to any minorities, to help them break out of their bamboo prison (FUN FACT: Mexico is known for its fertile bamboo fields). And then everyone escapes. Whee. There’s a standoff with the banditos, but that village of poor farmers? They come fully loaded with machetes!

The Big Bad Bandito gets defeated when Hannibal jumps out of a helicopter onto a moving Jeep to fist-fight the duder. Like you do. And then the guys discover April’s tape recorder/secret diary where she’s been recording her observations about her new crime-fighting friends — “it’s a great story!” she says. (The real April O’Neil would never betray the Ninja Turtles that way.) But then she strikes a deal with them to help out on their adventures, like a true and proper Girl Friday — her first official duty? To drug Mr. T again so that they can fly home to Los Angeles.

And they all lived happily ever after, Frank. For five seasons! Which is surprising. You’d think they’d have run out of Jeeps to flip over by Season 3. But I guess that’s just HOLLYWOOD MAGIC.

Love,
Liz

…is about a TV show beloved by many, featuring music by Mike Post. Here are some fun facts about Mike Post!

• Did the theme music for EVERY TV SHOW EVER IN THE 1980S.
• You know Law and Order’s “chung chung,” which can be heard in every single Law and Order series ever? Yeah, that was him.
• Composers get these things called royalties every time their music is used.
• Accordingly, Mike Post has all the money. All the money ever. Bajillions.
• And a jet.