Cinema Sunday
Today we conclude our three-part Subliminal Cinema study of "Ziggy Stardust, Action Hero," with a movie I bet you haven't thought of in a while: Never Too Young To Die. Okay, maybe you've never thought of it, but that doesn't change the fact that one day you're John Stamos, an up-and-coming teen hunk, the next you're being upstaged by the Olson twins on a sappy sitcom, and the next World O'Crap can't find any promotional art from the spy movie you made in 1986 when they want to make fun of it, even though it costarred a half-nude Vanity. Such is fame,
But anyway, Scott C. claims that one can learn some important lessons on manliness from this movie. And hey, has he ever steered us wrong?
(Screen capture courtesy of The Agony Booth, the world's only site to devote ten pages to reviewing this film)
Never Too Young To Die (1986)
Directed by Gil Bettman
Written by Anthony Foutz
John Stamos first achieved notoriety as "Blackie," the sensitive, cycle-straddling delinquent on General Hospital, before finally rising to a flaming, Phoenix-like apotheosis of fame as "Uncle Jesse" on Full House. In between, he made a lame stab at snatching the action hero tiara from Kurt Thomas in a contest that resembled two old women struggling over a discounted bra at a Woolworth clearance sale.
But John was no mere simulacrum of Kurt. No, he forged his own unique character in Never Too Young to Die, playing a champion gymnast with a mullet, whose Dad worked for the CIA...
Hm. Anyway, this time Kurt–I mean John–is called "Lance Stargrove," a name so manly that every actor working in male porn films in the1980s must have been kicking himself that he didn't think of it first. John's dad is George Lazenby, who comes bearing impeccable spy film credentials, having thoroughly stunk up On Her Majesty’s Secret Service. As the movie opens, George is trying to foil arch-criminal Gene Simmons (of KISS), who is playing an evil hermaphrodite with a super-powered middle finger.
George infiltrates Gene’s headquarters with a group of commandos who eventually get bored and frag him. Then Gene shows up and shoots George too. A puffy fellow sporting six-inch stilleto boots, Mr. Spock’s eyebrows, and Roseanne Rosannadanna’s hair, Gene artfully evokes the inherent duality of his character by working himself into such a flamboyant, cackling tizzy, he makes Caesar Romero’s Joker look like the farmer in "American Gothic."
At George’s funeral, Vanity shows up to make soulful goo-goo eyes at Lance through her veil. As a former Prince protege, Vanity has quite a bit of experience in feigning attraction to slight, androgynous men, and is therefore the perfect choice for Lance’s love interest.
Seeking a break from the film’s relentless pace, Lance retreats to his dad’s farm in Ojai. But Vanity is already there, prancing around the barn in jodhpurs and one of Prince’s lacy blouses, and shooting it out with two of Gene’s thugs. (They don’t introduce themselves, but they appear to be Duke Nukem and the Artful Dodger from "Oliver!") Lance is utterly confused, and for the first time, we’re on his side.
Later, Vanity meets with her superior, CIA spymaster Carruthers, who’s played by Gene Simmons in a red wig and fake beard. (Shhh! We’re not supposed to know.) Gene gives Vanity orders to seek out Gene at a nightclub where he’s performing and kill him. Lance dons the Miami Vice look–blue t-shirt, and a shiny sport coat with the sleeves hitched up–and follows her to the nightclub, which turns out to be a cross between Fellini’s Satyricon and the Riverside County Sheriff's Department impound lot.
Inside, a paunchy Gene sashays around in a sequined body stocking, batting his false eyelashes and shaking the long plumes of pink feathers that trail from his elaborate headdress as he shrieks out a song. It’s not the most entertaining musical number ever committed to celluloid, but remember, it’s an action film, so they had to work in at least one macho character.
Next on our tour of Southern California spots where one can shoot a movie without expensive filming permits, Lance hops on a motorcycle and follows Vanity into the desert. She tries to lose him, and thanks to the editing, there are several implied car stunts. Then, suddenly, John is attacked by some homeless guys on motorized carrousel horses, who use wicked-looking battleaxes to gently poke at him as though checking to see if a pot roast is tender.
Vanity and Lance get captured by the Mad Max cast, and Lance wakes with a start back in Ojai (which actually is kind of scary–take it from one who knows). In the best scene of the film, two of Gene’s henchmen torture Lance by banging his head around the insides of the kitchen sink like a bell clapper. They try to break his spirit by squashing a cherry tomato against his cheek, then they spank him until he cries, and throw him into the bookcase.
But Lance spots a broken picture of he and his dad amongst the wreckage, and it apparently has the same effect on him that spinach has on Popeye. He leaps to his feet and suddenly starts kicking ass Gymkata-style, while a Jan Hammer wannabe plays listless, yet vaguely triumphant music on a synthesizer.
Realizing that Vanity is in mortal danger, and no doubt being tortured at this very instant, Lance must race to her rescue! But not right now. First, he decides to change his shirt and wander around the house for awhile.
Meanwhile, Gene is now being aided in his evil master plan–whatever the hell it is–by Freddy from Nightmare on Elm Street, who for the purposes of this film is dressed like one of the Archies.
Eventually, after adding some kicky new charms to his necklace, Lance goes off to infiltrate Gene’s secret headquarters, which is located in an abandoned foundry in Fontana because there’s no lock on the gate and the crew could film there for free. Our hero finds Vanity chained down and spread-eagled on a cement slab, with the camera pointed at her crotch. Surprisingly, her crotch gives a very nuanced performance, but all good things must come to an end, and Lance rescues her by...Well, pretty much by just showing up.
Safely back home, Vanity tries to kiss Lance. This makes our hero visibly uncomfortable, and he promptly retreats into the house, having suddenly remembered that Christopher Lowell is doing a fabulous program on marbleizing techniques.
Vanity refuses to take a hint, and strips down to her bikini. Lance wrings his hands, gazes anxiously skyward. Vanity doggedly rubs oil on her chest and thighs, licks her lips, doffs her top, and basically does everything possible to seduce Lance short of slipping him roofies. Eventually, she’s stark naked and shivering under the spray from a garden hose, and Lance abruptly stumbles toward her. Perhaps he was suddenly overcome by passion, although my theory is that the director was crouching just off-camera, and jabbed him in the ass with a hatpin.
Mercifully for everyone involved, the sex scene is cut short by terrorists. Lance and Vanity are kidnapped and whisked aboard a helicopter, where Gene pulls off the beard and wig and reveals that–he’s him! As surprises go, it’s not exactly The Crying Game..
Gene takes them to a concrete amphitheatre where they can shoot on weekends and nobody will know. Here we get the only actual sex in the film, as Gene flaps his prehensile tongue and shoves it down Vanity’s throat like a plumber’s snake. Lance challenges Duke Nukem to a one-on-one fight "with a real man!" Surprisingly, he means himself. Duke agrees, but it turns out that Lance’s definition of "a real man" is rather elastic, and includes an hysterical pussy who will grab the Uzi from a slack-jawed spectator and gun down his unarmed opponent. Before he can embarrass himself further, however, the U.S. Army Special Forces arrives, having apparently secured transportation by renting the Long Beach harbor excursion helicopter for a few hours. Lance fires indiscriminately into the extras in an effort to clear the set, since time is money.
Gene climbs into a big rig truck and tries to flee by passing himself off as Large Marge. But Lance catches up to him, and in the raging climactic battle, they literally scratch and bite each other’s nipples, until Lance eventually throws a CPR dummy over a dam and declares victory. The head of the CIA offers Lance a job as a secret agent, but he’s too much of a puss, and runs away. The End.
*****
As we discussed last time, deep textual analysis of these films reveal a startling truth: Girls go for femmy guys.
But what will the action movie hero of the '00s be like? It is our expert opinion, based on the trends we have identified from the past twenty years, that the hero of future popcorn movies will be strong enough for a man, but made for a woman; tough enough to make a tender chicken, but now with wings! Oh, and not very bright, kind of ineffectual, and with pouffy hair. So, in conclusion, we predict that the action hero for the New Millenium is going to be Richard Simmons.
3:41:49 AM 
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