Archives for posts with tag: Slim Pickens

The Howling poster

The Howling (1981)

National Socialists have traditionally appropriated wolf imagery as an expression of their movement’s fierceness, masculinity, and pagan mystique. Hitler’s first Eastern Front headquarters was named the Wolf’s Lair, and Werwolf was the name the Nazis selected for a German guerrilla resistance force during the waning phases of World War II. White nationalists of today will sometimes refer to themselves as werewolves, as well. A close reading of Joe Dante’s horror hit The Howling (1981), however, may convince viewers that Jews are the ones who deserve the mantle of the wolf.

Ilsa She Wolf of the SS

Lupine-themed pop Nazi iconography

“Signed his work,” explains television news producer Christopher (Dennis Dugan), with reference to the gruesome clues furnished by the artistic creations of a murderous maniac – and, as it turns out, a werewolf – in dialogue suggestive of what may be The Howling’s ulterior intention of cluing viewers into the nature of its Hollywood provenance by way of a revelation of method.

The madman is Eddie Quist (Robert Picardo), a sexual pervert stalking anchorwoman Karen White (Dee Wallace). The latter, in an attempt to help police capture Quist, agrees to meet him in an adult video shop, where he lures her into a private booth, activates a sadomasochistic sex loop, announces his intention to possess Karen’s body, and then proceeds to transform and to reveal his true physical nature – that of a wolf.

Dee Wallace

Dee Wallace as Karen White

Thus, in this crucial encounter, key subtext is set into motion. Quist is in his element when surrounded by filth and shows a pronounced interest in pornography – an industry dominated by Jews – and he also seeks to dominate Karen, a character who is significantly beautiful, blonde, surnamed “White”, and a representative, furthermore, of her local news media – another Jewish near-monopoly. Karen’s employer at Channel 6, Fred Francis (Kevin McCarthy), would seem to be one of the last of the WASP old boys’ club.


Robert Picardo as Eddie Quist

A search of Quist’s apartment reveals obsessive drawings of monsters (i.e., autobiographical deviant art) and newspaper clippings illustrative of his resentful preoccupations with violence and Christianity. Two visible headlines from articles on his walls read, “The Dismembered Corpse in the Burned Out Church” and “Weird Case of the Murdering Messiah”. Murdering or murdered? Either way, the headlines speak to Quist’s sense of Jewish supremacy and hatred of gentiles.

Appearing as a guest on Channel 6 is a pop psychiatrist, Dr. Waggner (Patrick Macnee), who advises his audience of the benefits to be had from slackening their moral standards when he says, “We should never try to deny the beast, the animal within us.” Psychiatry, of course, being another field famously lorded over by Jews hostile to the traditional ways of Christendom. Dr. Waggner, like Quist, has designs on Karen White, and – using the pretext of her post-traumatic stress resulting from the meeting with Quist – invites her to his rustic retreat, suggestively named the Colony, for what is supposed to be group therapy along with her husband, Bill (Christopher Stone).

Elisabeth Brooks

Elisabeth Brooks as Marsha Quist

The Colony, unfortunately, is a forested den of werewolves, among them folksy locals Charlie (Noble Willingham), Erle (John Carradine), Jerry (James Murtaugh), deceptively friendly sheriff Sam (Slim Pickens), and shapely seductress Marsha (Elisabeth Brooks), a quintessential scarlet woman who sets about dissolving the bonds of Karen’s marriage by making herself aggressively available to Bill. Marsha’s love shack in the woods is adorned by pelts, which – with their six points of paws, head, and tail – abstractly approximate elongated Stars of David.

Pelt of David

Pelt of David

“Karen, you’re really gettin’ paranoid,” Bill accuses when his wife confronts him about his infidelity. “I know,” he says sarcastically, “it’s all a big conspiracy as far as you’re concerned.” Bill’s tactic, then, is to attempt to distract from the fact that he has plainly sold his soul and his services to the alien by smearing his accuser as a “conspiracy theorist”. Sound familiar?

Karen’s new Colony acquaintance Donna (Margie Impert), also a crypto-werewolf, lets slip a hint of her hidden identity when she and Karen happen upon a mutilated cow. “Oh, Jesus,” she blurts with embarrassment, to which Karen automatically tacks on “Christ”. It is Karen, and not crypto-werewolf Donna, who identifies Jesus as the Messiah and not a head of slaughtered cattle.

Donna and Karen

Donna (Margie Impert) and Karen (Dee Wallace)

An isolated redneck community might seem an unlikely representation of Jews, if not for their legendary prowess at passing themselves as common whites. “Your classic werewolf can change shape anytime it wants, day or night, whenever it takes a notion to. That’s why they call ‘em shapeshifters,” explains occult bookseller Walter Paisley (Dick Miller). “Silver bullets or fire,” he goes on. “It’s the only way to get rid of the damn things. They’re worse than cockroaches.”

Joe Bob Briggs

“That’s why they call ’em shapeshifters.” An example of the crypto is John Irving Bloom, who made a career as ersatz good ol’ boy Joe Bob Briggs

The strength of the wolf is in the pack. A single Charles Schumer or Dov Zakheim might pose no threat to the United States; but taken together, as an organized infestation, Jewry comprises a nearly unbeatable hydra. “A secret society exists and is living among all of us,” Karen duly warns her viewers when she returns to television. “They are neither people nor animal, but something in between.”

The less-than-sympathetic and decidedly utilitarian view this secret order of carnivorous creatures takes toward the goyim is made explicit during the scene in which they reveal themselves. The script is worth quoting at this pivotal juncture:

     Jerry: It was a mistake to bring her to the Colony.

     Erle: We should have stuck with the old ways. Raising cattle for our feed. Where’s the life in that?

     Charlie: The humans are our cattle.

     Erle: Humans are our prey. We should feed on them, like we’ve always done. Screw all this “channel your energies” crap.

     Dr. Waggner: But the danger of exposure! We need this shelter to plan! To catch up with society! Times have changed and we haven’t! Not enough.

     Marsha: Shut up, Doc! You wouldn’t listen to me! None of you! “We can fit in,” you said. “We can live with them!” You make me sick.

True to the bookseller’s lore, the werewolves prove to be vulnerable to silver bullets and fire – which is, of course, to say Holocaust – when gentile news producer Christopher, presumably following in the imaginary footsteps of Julius Streicher, rides to the rescue and burns the lot of the flesh-devouring good-for-nothings alive in their barn-synagogue of Satan.

Marsha, the Zionist Werewolf Whore of Babylon, is seen to be the only survivor of this horrible Howlocaust, and one can only assume that she will now be more bloodthirsty than ever, an assumption corroborated when she gazes into the camera and orders a hamburger – specifying that it be cooked rare. The Howling’s end credits then roll over a close-up of the sizzling hamburger patty – a macabre reminder of the final significance of what is meant by “goy cattle”.



Jewish werewolf Meyer Wolfsheim (Amitabh Bachchan) in The Great Gatsby (2013)

Paul Wolfowitz

Jewish werewolf, warlord, nose picker, and comb licker Paul Wolfowitz

Wolf Blitzer

Jewish werewolf Wolf Blitzer, fiendish face of Cabal News Network

Pink Motel (1982) ****  A Porky’s-era ensemble sex comedy that plays like a lowbrow Neil Simon adaptation, thanks to its ironic, nagging, zinger-laden screenplay by Jim Kouf, Pink Motel takes viewers into various rooms of the titular establishment, run with cranky cynicism by Slim Pickens and wife Phyllis Diller. Among the occupants are two lawyers having an affair; a sleazy, cocksure stud teaching his buddy how to score; a teen trying to charm his girlfriend into losing her virginity; and a football star, another virgin as it turns out, trying to lose his blues with a jaded prostitute.

Diller and Pickens, in whose mouth words like “hog heaven” take on an entirely new and individual sensibility, are the funniest and most engaging players, but do little more in their smallish parts than link the different subplots with jokey interludes.  Squire Fridell and Andrea Howard, the two best actors in Pink Motel, also have the meatiest scenes as Howard, a prosecuting attorney, grills defender Fridell about the meaning and prospects of their stagnant relationship.  Musclebound Tony Longo, meanwhile, is another standout in his pitiable part as the football fullback trying to score where it counts, with lots of sports double entendres naturally following.

Not all of the couplings are equally interesting or funny; but, ensemble film that it is, Pink Motel never stays in one room long enough for any situation, however ridiculous, to become overly tiresome.  Perhaps too talky and static for those seeking the likes of another Porky’sLosin’ It, or Hot Moves, Pink Motel is nonetheless recommended to open-minded viewers willing to forgive a somewhat tame and easygoing piece of late night fare that occasionally feels like it was written for the stage instead of the drive-in screen.  Nile performs the funky, sassy theme song that opens, closes, and invests the proceedings with spirit.  4 out of 5 stars.

Screwball Hotel (1988) ***  Three military cadet ne’er-do-wells do their zaniest to thwart gangsters conspiring to take over a posh Miami hotel in this hopelessly goofy continuation of Rafal Zielinski’s string of 80s sex comedies that includes the original Screwballs, its sequel Loose Screws, Recruits, and Valet Girls.  The plot, expectedly, is really just an excuse for a series of raunchy and outrageous gags, with the horny hotel proprietor and his ditzy secretary amusing themselves with costumed role playing sex games; a disgustingly obese and food-obsessed loser getting more than he bargained for with a voracious “leather queen” in one of the suites; and a bevy of prudish pageant contestants being duped by religious fervor into wrestling in oil to raise money to save the hotel.

Scenes of cocaine mischievously finding its way into hotel guests’ lungs and digestive tracts by way of strategic pranksterism and a kitchen mix-up, respectively, recall Screwballs, with its Spanish fly sequence, as does the eternal sex comedy standby plot device of the necessity of undermining beautiful young women’s moral modesty by any means necessary, the sabotaged “Miss Purity” pageant of Screwball Hotel recalling the Purity Busch storyline of the earlier film.  Most of this material is funnier as tackled in Screwballs and Loose Screws, so those new to Zielinski’s brand of comedy would do better to begin with one of those; fans already familiar with these earlier entries, however, will have a better idea of what to expect and may enjoy Screwball Hotel despite its largely hit-and-miss underachieving lameness.

Even people annoyed by this film are likely to laugh aloud at least once, if only at how ridiculous the whole thing is.  Viewers willing to sit through a painfully inauspicious first five minutes or so will be rewarded by plenty of amiable absurdity.  The caricature rich Arab sheikh and the Australian who has a relationship with his sheep may fall totally flat as comedy coups; but is it really possible not to laugh at the sight of a lobster crawling up a fat guy’s shorts as he squirms and his supervisor berates him, asking him if he has the crabs?  For those who, like this reviewer, can admit to be being amused by the idea of sparks flying out of this same poor slob’s crotch as a nymphomaniac in S&M garb straddles, rides, and whips him, Screwball Hotel is far from the worst dumpster nugget a lenient VHS thrillseeker could pick from the heap.  3 out of 5 stars.


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