[IMG:L]A lot has been made about the term “Grindhouse” thanks to Quentin Tarantino and Robert Rodriguez‘s recent attempt at reviving the exploitation double feature. But, frankly, the true Grindhouse experience is hard to find—it’s out there, but it’s harder to find than simply with the release of these double features.
The whole idea of the Grindhouse experience is to churn out movies cheaply, but make them fun, shocking and push the edges as much as possible. The idea of the quickie feature may have been popular in the 1950s when studios were churning out at least a film a week, but they reached a high point in the ‘60s with the drive-in movie theaters, and then in the ‘70s and early ’80s just before VCRs essentially ended the hunger for this distinctive exploitive type of movie
Opening weekend, the lines for Grindhouse were around the block for every show at Grauman’s Chinese Theatre. The audience—which included filmmakers Quentin Tarantino, Eli Roth and actress Rosario Dawson—was excited about the movies, and the crowd watched in polite silence, only laughing and screaming where appropriate.
That’s not a Grindhouse experience. First of all, it’s impossible to do it at the world’s most famous movie theater, sitting near celebrities, where the floors are not sticky and the popcorn isn’t stale. Secondly, no one should ever wait in line to get in, and the crowd should never be in rapt attention, but instead talking and screaming throughout, if they’re paying attention at all.
[IMG:R]Of course, no one goes to a Grindhouse to see a movie that’s going to be a top box office winner, and that ended up proving true for Tarantino and Rodriguez, because opening weekend for the double feature only brought in about half of what was expected, a mere $11.5 million. That’s way less than the $15 million that Snakes on a Plane did, which is a perfect example of the kind of movie a Grindhouse theater would play.
Those of us of a certain age who grew up in small towns remember what the experience was like, even though we never knew it as “Grindhouse.” In Clearwater, Fla., during my high school and early college years, we frequented a red-bricked building in the heart of downtown called The Ritz and a drive-in near the community college that never had an official name except “the Drive-in” (and on weekends it was known as “the Flea Market”). The town did have the big six-theater multiplex, and a few miles away a four-theater multiplex, but it was The Ritz and The Drive-in where most of my film education took place. It’s where I learned about John Waters, Russ Meyer, Doris Wishman, Dario Argento, David Cronenberg and Roger Corman.
The Ritz played X-rated movies after dark, but we weren’t allowed to go downtown after dark anyway—that is, until the midnight movie on weekends became The Rocky Horror Picture Show. It was that way until Scientologists bought the building, and most of downtown, and razed it.
Even though we were doing the Grindhouse thing, we didn’t know it. So, from a Baby Boomer movie fanatic, here are the 10 basic tests of a true Grindhouse experience.
1. Never use the term Grindhouse: Frankly, I never heard it before Tarantino called it that, but hey, isn’t it always great to find out that something you do a lot has a name?
2. Expect at least two movies: It’s a late night double feature picture show, and it’s never first run, nor ever in the top of the box office charts. Some clever programmers will have titles that run together on the marquee, like “The Thing That Couldn’t Die” “Once Upon a Honeymoon.” They’re probably films you’ve never heard of, and unfortunately many of them are not available on DVD—yet.
3. Never pay full price: Even two-for-the-price-of-one isn’t enough. At the Drive-in we really did sneak people in by shoving at least two in the trunk, and at The Ritz many of us were too young to get into the R with just our friends, so we’d sneak through the Exit door after one of us paid admission.
4. Never bring a date: These are movies you go to with a group of buddies and it’s more fun that way. Frequently at the Drive-in the sound was so bad we’d ignore it and come up with our own commentary long before Mystery Science Theater made it a franchise. Of course, there’s always the chance to make out with a date, but most of the time she’ll just get grossed out and want you to take her home early.
5. Expect to squirm: Not only are gouged eyeballs and head explosions a must, no doubt there will be fast cars, topless girls and plenty of new foul words and foreign expressions to add to your vocabulary.
6. Expect to scream: It’s an interactive movie experience, so shouting at the stupid ingénue not to open the door, and re-enacting some of the kung fu moves on the hood of the car are allowable reactions.
7. Expect sticky floors: Don’t think about it, it’s just too gross. But it goes along with the ambience of the broken seats, faded red curtain and soda-splattered screen.
8. Expect stale popcorn: Sure, they popped it the night before, and maybe even emptied half-eaten tubs back into the bin, but at least that smell covers up the other smells, like the smoking going on in the bathrooms.
9. Expect creepy ushers: Sometimes the pasty-faced vampires working at these establishments look like they never see the light of day. They know too much about the filmmakers, and they talk with a lisp and sometimes drool.
10. Never expect anything good: It’s not going to be a movie you’re going to tell your parents about when you get home, and it’s not going to have any stars in the cast—but some may turn out to be stars someday.
The Ritz and the Drive-in in Clearwater, Fla. are gone, but so are the multiplexes at the malls. There’s only one super megaplex on the outskirts of town and a lot of DVD stores. I still have the speaker from the Drive-in that we once mistakenly drove off with before taking it off the car window.
The experience with the Tarantino Grindhouse can’t be the same. The critics really liked this three-hour-11-minute spoof with missing reels and sex scenes excised (a la Cinema Paradiso, but not because of the objections of the local priest, but because the creepy projectionist spliced those scenes out for himself.) The staff at Grauman’s Chinese is rather coiffed, and the popcorn is fresh. Tarantino has created his own L.A. experience of hand-picked personal Grindhouse favorites running at the New Beverly Cinema art house. The experience there may be more like the old days, with titles like Jailbait Babysitter, The Muthers and a few Bruce Lee films.
The charm of Grindhouse is that you not only saw silly films you’d see on Saturday afternoon on TV, like Tarantula, The Brain that Wouldn’t Die or Santa Claus vs. the Martians in the way they were meant to be seen on the big screen, but you’d see a lot more. You’d get to see that violent Cannibal Ferox by Umberto Lenzi with the horrific castration scene and the girls hung up on hooks by their privates. You’d get to see Divine eating dog poop in Pink Flamingos, or Pam Grier writhe in a cage in a Roger Corman flick, or sexy killer Nazi werewolves like in Ilsa, She Wolf of the SS.
Now, more than a quarter of a century later, it’s not surprising that I’m good friends with two of the female stars from Skinned Alive and Sorority Babes in the Slimeball Bowlorama. I’m on John Waters‘ Christmas card list, I’ve eaten dinners with Suspiria director Dario Argento, I’m neighbors with Patrick Bachau who starred in the first soft-porn film I’d ever seen Emmanuelle 4, and I even visited the set of Tarantino‘s first movie. With them, I can talk about what they think of the weird Incubus movie in complete Esperanto with William Shatner or ask them which Corman film they’d want to re-make.
Even though the days of Grindhouse may never be revived, it’s nice to know that every once in a while even the Grauman’s Chinese Theatre can slum it a bit.
