A little bit of film history was made back in 1972 when John
Boorman's classic DELIVERANCE was unleashed on the public. That
film based on the incredible novel of the same name by James Dickey
did more to damage the Deep South's tourist industry than the
whole God damned Civil War had. It also did one other thing, it
made it okay to fear, therefore, make fun of backwoods, rednecked,
simpletons and 'tards. It not only was it okay to make fun of
them, it was quite alright to kill them, of course in self-defense
or at least in retribution for them ass-fucking a buddy or using
your purty mouth as a jizz catch-all. This groundbreaking exploration
into the Deep South opened the door for the 1986 release of HUNTER'S
BLOOD. Some may say derivative, but I say fuck you, HUNTER"S
BLOOD takes a not so new theme and puts a decent turn on it.
Robert Hughes kicked off his less than stellar career as director
with HUNTER'S BLOOD with Emmet Alston's taut screenplay of five
"city boys" who just want to spend a nice weekend hunting
on company land down in Arkansas. Alston directed a few forgettable
exploitationers in the early 80s himself including the Prof. Tread
recommended 3-Way Weekend (find it if you can). Hughes had the
luxury of a decent cast of folks who were on their way up and
a batch of good character actors, which included future NYPD Bluer
Kim Delaney, the tolerable Sam Bottoms, the highly underrated
Clu Gulager, former Russ
Meyer player Ken Swofford, Joey "my brother is John"
Travolta, and Bruce "my son Crispin, is psychotic" Glover.
Not a bad group to kick off your big screen directorial debut
The plot is basic. Swofford's character Al has invited a group
of his buddies down for a weekend in the woods on a chunk of land
his company has just purchased. Sounds like a nice getaway for
David (Bottoms) and his dad, Mason (Gulager). Along for the ride
are Ralph (Mayf Fucking Nutter) and Marty (Travolta). David gets
up early and passes on a slice of the nubile Kim Delaney to go
jump into Al's souped up Bronco. The trip is on.
Treading the same ground as DELIVERANCE and the yet mentioned
Bayou thriller SOUTHERN COMFORT, we get our character development
by way of road trip where we learn David is a Doctor, Ralph is
a drunk and Marty, well. Marty is fucking stupid. As we get deeper
into Razorback country, the story gets better. In what will be
a pivotal plot point, the guys stop for some beer at a "local"
lean-to. An underdressed bar wench and a table of typical cracker
barflys are our first taste of Southern Culture. David flirts
with the broad until they end up embarrassing her and the boys
in the bar take offense. When the guys try to get some beer to
go, these fellas up the "deposit" on the beer and it
turns ugly. Like Burt Reynold's Lewis, Clu Gulager's Mason has
a past that has made him some sort of ass kicker and kick ass
he does, the boys escape the bar and Al's hotrod Bronco does the
rest. Once they arrive at their destination, it is not long before
the next warning comes calling by way of a couple of Park Rangers,
who basically tell the hunters to leave or risk pissing off the
poachers who run the area, much to the Park Rangers chagrine.
Eugene Robert Glaser turns in a nice performance as a nervous
Ranger who seems to be scared to death of what is going on in
his woods. They want to control the problem but hey, there's just
the two of them. Needless to say, the guys don't listen to a word
the Rangers say and decide to hang out anyway.
Delving into the plot particulars at this point tends to ruin
the fun ride through the Arkansas backwoods that Hunter's Blood
is. The inbred band of poachers truly are evil with on the nose
portrayals handed in by B-movie stalwart Lee DeBroux (whose fucking
career spans 30 years of great, drive-in crud including, COFFY,
EVEL KNEIVEL, TRUE GRIT, CHINATOWN and about 60 more good films)
the crazy assed Glover who is still working, he is great as always
in lst year's GHOST WORLD. Glover delivers one of my favorite
lines in HUNTER"S BLOOD, "Maybe they's the kind that
don't abide female poontang?" Ah, like Shakespeare or somthing.
Boney-faced Billy Drago, epitomizes the guy you want to not only
kill but totally fuck-up in HUNTER'S BLOOD. References to inbred
fucking, homosexuality and even a Billy Bob Thorton background
make these peckerwoods quite alright. No shit Billy Bob is one
of the bad guys, no lines, just set decoration. Billy Bob as a
what a stretch. I have to mention Mickey Jones,
he is one of the 'necks, who meets a bizarre demise. Mickey was
a member of the famed New Christy Minstrels and the drummer for
the controversial 1966 "electric" tour with Boby Dylan
before finding his niche as a character actor. Mickey might be
one the most recognizable faces to ever play a background baddie
in the pictures. Mickey is still laying down, starring in fairly
shitty product still today.
As much as I love these kind of movies, being from the South,
I can't help siding with the rednecks more often than not. In
HUNTER'S BLOOD, that is not so much the case because they are
just asshole poachers, but in SOUTHERN COMPFORT for instance the
weekend warriors stole a boat from the "bad guys" and
even blew up the guys house. There is generally a condemnation
of the locals by the so-called sophisticates who see the South
as some sort of rich, outdoorsy Disneyland. Make no doubt and
I mean this from the heart, people from the North as just plain
assholes. They are not friendly, they don't converse in the ways
folks from the South do. I am not talking accent or dialect, I
mean they don't converse. We tend to speak to each other, to be
friendly with strangers for the most part. We pass a truck on
a one lane road we wave to each other. I did that in upper state
Pennsylvania and I thought the guy was going to run off the road,
then he stopped to see if he knew me. Is it that confusing to
be neighborly? But I guess we are the ones who are backward.
It's not like we haven't gotten suspicious of "city folk"
over the years that's for sure. In the hollers of Kentucky, there
is a cash crop of marijuana that most Gothamites could only dream
of. Why is that you think? Well most of those folks don't have
any opportunity. They used to grow tobacco but God knows that
we have made sure that it is nearly impossible to get a decent
price for that weed due to the Federal regulations, the fucking
ripoff artists at the tobacco companies and new "sensitivity"
to smoking. Come on, you think a farmer is going to take his earnings
and lay it on a new dot com idea he has, or continue farming,
looking for a substitute money product. Dope is that product and
because it is illegal, they are fucking paranoid. This is a great
time to talk about industrial hemp and how it would solve many
problems for family farms throughout the Southern part of the
United States, how it would address a shitload of medicinal needs
and could be an alternative to fossil fuels, but I wouldn't want
to bore you with the ramblings of another redneck from the South.
Point being, fuck yeah, we're paranoid, do you realize that most
of our economies are based on fairly shady operations that at
any moment could be shut down by the powerful lobbies, mainly
the hypersensitive, be them Right or Left. Think about it, in
Kentucky, our main economic contributions to the world are these
Bourbon Whiskey, Cigarettes and Thoroughbred Horses
for Racing. Drinking, Smoking and Gambling. Vices. That's it,
if we just had legalized prostitution I'd think I was in Heaven.
Nonetheless, when you base a state's economic impact on Sinning,
it damn sure don't take no rocket surgeon to know that in the
New Millenium, the way of life we have come to know is teetering
on the brink. You think that might be why we are skeptical of
outsiders? The only time that people come around is when they
want something. Either to change something, take something or
exploit something. That is the way most real folks who live in
these sparsely populated areas feel. It is a different way of
life, brutal, harrowing, hard and not something that can be understood
by a weekend fishing trip. I ain't defending butt-raping, dumbass,
bumpkins but I'm just saying, there ain't much else for us to
do and don't kncok something until you've tried it.
HUNTER'S BLOOD, own it. I bet the fine folks over at www.videoscreams.com
have it just waiting for you.
|Ol' One Eye. He
Discuss this baby.
Black Gestapo Black
Girl From Tobacco Row
Rape Squad Join
The Meateater Do
Dixie Dynamite POW!
Run Stranger Run
Horror House On Hwy 5
Behind Locked Doors It's
Nailgun Massacre Some
Bat Pussy It had to
Thunder Alley It is
Blood Freak A Classic
The Geek Bigfoot Porn
High School Ghosthustlers
Frankenstein Island You
SuperCock Not that kinda
The Alienator Feeling
Angel Midnight Fantasy
Vanity and the Beast
Tim Ritter's $0 budget wonder
Nightmare Prof. Tread
still can't sleep.
Shanty Tramp She is sumpin'
If Footmen Tire You...?
Viva' Knievel Evel of
The Killing Of A Chinese
Bookie! Smart Guy.
The Pink Angels Gayness,
The Burning The 80's,
ahhh the 80's.
Q - The Winged Serpant! Larry
Fight For Your Life!
WARNING Racist content
Walking Tall Buford Pusser
in the Hizouse!
Sleepaway Camp Internet
Born Losers Ya Loser!
Shriek of the Mutilated
Bro. George gets busy.
Bury Me An Angel
Gal Biker and more.
The Grim Reaper Reap
Abby One of William Girdler's
Deadbeat At Dawn A
Sonny Boy Carradine,
Great Hollywood Rape-Slaughter
Savage Weekend. Take
Dead and Buried. A Should-be
Hot Summer In Barefoot
Night Train To Terror
I Drink Your Blood Glug,
Vixen Russ Meyer and breasts!
Truck Stop Women Honnnk
Daddy's Deadly Darling!
Flesh Feast Maggots!
Soapy the Germ Fighter!
Why Doesn't Cathy Eat Breakfast?
Moonshine County Express!
The Night God Screamed!
White Dog Racists Pets!
Hunter's Blood City
Slickers get offed!
Devil Times Five Sean
Terror at the Red Wolf Inn
Headless Eyes See It
World's Greatest Sinner
One of the best!
The Baby! Goo Goo!
Summer Camp Nightmare Viva
Attack of the Beast Creatures
Let's Play Dead Incest
Island of Death Vacation
Evil Come, Evil Go! Bye,
Darktown Strutters Get
Poor Pretty Eddie Deep
Miami Golem Jewish Folklore
Tenement NYC Apartment
To Kill A Clown Alan Alda Vietnam Vet!
The Spook Who Sat Next To
The Door Booya!
I Woke Up Early The Day I
Died Mr. Ed Wood.
The Mutilation Man Andy
Copp goes arty on us!
The People Across The Lake
The Woman Hunt Load Up
The Devil At You Heels
These Are The Damned
Crowhaven Farm TV movie