Through the Barriers: HIGHWAY TO HELL, BERMUDA TRIANGLE, and EYE IN THE LABYRINTH (on Prime)

Everything cool about the 70s waits for us in the depths of this Mexican-Italian co-production made at the height of the craze for all things Bermuda Triangle. Not only do we get a killer doll picked up from floating in the sea by a rich man's child, but lots of old sea monster... etchings... floating face down in the waves. So met. Directed by Rene "Mexican Schaffner" Cardona Jr.. starring the ever slovenly Hugo Stiglitz as the charter yacht captain and John Huston as the aging patriarch in search of Atlantis in the middle of a certain triangle. We never really know as we're never off the boat or see land, and its groovy. Naturally an aging Bond girl is aboard (Claudine Auger, still foxy but orange is not her color) here an as the bitter wife of drunken doctor Carlos East. Huston's other, younger smokin' hot daughter with nice legs (for awhile) is played by Gloria Guida. The doll (who in some creepy shots is doubled with the Linda Blair-ish face of Nailea Norvind) tells the kid when everyone on the boat will die and drinks the blood of attacking parrots and later the ship's cook, whose jagged death is blamed on falling ketchup bottles. Meta shit like that and the sea monster etchings leave us much to ponder


Part of a cornucopia of late-70s films--including recently-reviewed and loved by this site, Bermuda Depths (also 1978), triggered by the immensely popular Leonard Nimoy-hosted TV show In Search Of...,(which covered the Triangle a year prior - we all saw it), and with a memorable albeit familiar Stevio Cipriani score (and sound effects when things get all triangle-weird lifted directly from Forbidden Planet), this Triangle never dull mix of sea folklore, bitchy histrionics, creative deaths and strange events (including a parrot attack).

The film is clearly shot aboard an actual boat (we never see a speck of land, which adds to the film's eerie unease) and we get to know and like the soothing bobbing up and down in of onboard life. And there are some nice underwater sequences amidst the Atlantean ruins and it all benefits greatly from a widescreen transfer (albeit not digital on Prime, it still looks strong). The whole thing never quite gels but--in a way that's not dissimilar to other 70s catch-all horror affairs, like The Visitor-- it triumphs in the end through sheer abundance of weird happenings: everything from a parrot attack to a mysterious magnetic force that almost capsizes the boat while they investigate a mysterious SOS from a ship lost at sea for a decade (a lengthy nighttime sequence full of odd boat tilting and magnetic disturbance); there is also a mighty hurricane, and even a convincing underwater visit to ruined Atlantis.

One of those films I'm rather amazed I ignored until now, mainly because of the all-too familiar sight of the Satanic burnt policeman (C.J. Graham). But there's a lot more going on on the H-to-H than burnt cops, like a never lovelier Kristy Swanson as the damsel in distress, dragged across the dimensional border into Hell for being an eligible virgin, leaving her dopey naif fiancee Chad Lowe behind in our mortal world. Richard Farnsworth plays mournful gas station owner at the edge of 'Perdition,' who lays out what the hapless dopey-eyed groom must do to get her back (he was in a similar situation night under fifty yars ago), equipping him with a magic shotgun and a car souped enough to make the jump to Hell.

Thanks to a surplus of over-the-top action, towheads driving dusty vehicles, and long straight desert highways, you'd be forgiven for thinking Highway to Hell is Australian. Actually it's one of the last big American designated cult pics, a relic of a time when big studios shared drive-in screens with indie distributors and wildly unhinged 80s drive-in ready gonzo classics actually made money, or lost it, but either way they went for it. The golden era of 80s cult films, man, thanks to Prime their legacy endures (see here for more Prime options). Though it's from 1991, it's sooo 80s, occupying a comfy zone between a bigger budget version of Hell Comes to Frogtown or the 1982 She, both personal favorites.

It wouldn't be much of a faux-Aussie road chase odyssey without a colorfully-attired gibbering biker gang, one of whom wearing a top hat and one carrying a dandy sword, one sucking a wawipop, one with dyed blonde hair and spikes, etc. to menace our dimwit hero.

Good use is made of the alien-looking deserts of Utah and Arizona, with wild pit stops such as a dead cop-filled diner, a wild strip club gambling den inside a giant Jimmy Hoffa slot machine, and the surreal confines of the foreboding Hell City. Cool matte paintings, grinding car chases, non-CGI crashes, devilish strippers, carousing evil figures from history are played by dimly familiar faces (the whole Stiller family is here for some reason lost to time: Jerry Stiller is a cop forever unable to get a refill; his son Ben Zoolander Stiller is Attila the Hun; daughter Amy is Cleopatra). Look fast for Gilbert Gottfried as Hitler; and rock star Lita Ford is a busty hitchhiker! I probably missed some others underneath the thick make-up of the damned. An array of sometimes-funny bits about hot this or damned that crop up: undead road crews shredding lost souls into body part cement, etc. And not unlike our man Orpheus, Chad Lowe is both helped and hindered on his mystical but very American SW quest. Swanson, never more fetching, has a super foxy scene where she plays a demon in disguise coming onto Chad while wearing a billowing black dress in a sultry 80s style MTV boudoir, licking the blood from his nose. Though we'd crawl across cut glass to be with her, too, we eventually come to like the can-do gumption of this slack-jawed tow-headed Chad Lowe; he goes way beyond that to rescue her, and that's before it gets really weird!


So, if it's not too much trouble: surrender to this loud action-horror-comedy's quirky mix of thrills, insight and dumb sight gags (whizzing by too fast to elicit any groans) and crazy car chase and brawling action and you're bound to wind up exhilarated. The Prime print is A-okay.

The post-end title "where are they now" crawl seems tacked on by producers after some test screening audience cards asked too many questions.

Man, some folks just can't let shit hang.


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