Previously on DVD WAR: Galaxy of Terror vs. Forbidden World, Piranha vs. Humanoids from the Deep, Clash of the Titans vs Clash of the Titans, The Terror Within vs. Dead Space and Up from the Depths vs. Demon of Paradise.

A Gentleman’s Introduction:

There’s a very special place in my heart for women’s prison movies. Especially the exploitation of the 1970’s. It’s hard to find fault in violence, heaping quantities of nudity, and an extreme playfulness that hasn’t been seen nearly as much in subsequent decades. These messy little flicks represent a beloved and special niche in the exploitation genre. They’re also a veritable who’s who of filmmakers and performers who cut their teeth here and continue to contribute quality work to this day.

Except the ones that don’t. The sluts and whores and hacks who cling desperately to whatever recognition they can muster. Or the ones who died in a fuel of drugs and rough sex.

This latest Roger Corman two-fer is a mixed bag. In it is the name brand Jonathan Demme effort Caged Heat! and the 1976 early Tommy Lee Jones flick Jackson County Jail. I’d seen both films as a youth but for some odd reason was absolutely way off in my estimation of which was the quality movie and which was a massive pile of piss and shit.

Jackson County Jail surprised the hell out of me. As an absolute nonfan of Yvette Mimieux I expected nothing from the experience and in fact considered Jackson County Jail the value added portion of the DVD.

Caged Heat! is a brand, Jonathan Demme is a brand [an in my opinion a very overvalued one]. Caged Heat! is outclassed in every single way by Jackson County Jail except in sheer nudity and while that is a valuable commodity I was shocked to discover that the latter is as close to a real movie as we’ve seen in these delightful but extremely cheesy Roger Corman collections.

A Quick Look:

The basic gist of Jackson County Jail is that an opinionated and progressive woman (Mimieux of Where the Boys Are and The Black Hole nonfame) decides to move from Los Angeles back to New York after  running out of patience with the sexist ad agency she works for. Instead of taking the five hour flight she decides to drive her yellow Pacer [a car I unfortunately got to know all too well in my youth] across the country. For the experience! Her experience (after encounters with once-successful sorts like Howard Hesseman, Robert Carradine, and Betty Thomas) involves getting the shit raped out of her, so perhaps the plane was the right choice…

Actually as far as rapes go, it’s one of the lamest of all time. The backwoods deputy who sneaks into her cell and gives her the business lasts maybe two thrusts and then is so grief stricken by the act, he gets his ass kicked by her. To death. I mean, it’s a rape. He deserves it… but on the cinematic rape scale it’s nowhere near Irreversible. A lot closer to Bedknobs and Broomsticks. Now THERE’S the title of a rape flick.

Next thing you know, Yvette and a very young and very charismatic Tommy Lee Jones (his first feature) are on the run from the law and finding trouble wherever they go. Caged Heat!’s a little different. It begins with a lamely choreographed crime gone awry, which lands our bland heroine in jail where she is forced to remove her clothes a lot. There’s a ruthless warden, copious amounts of swinging tits, and the worst sound design you’re ever going to hear on a film by an Oscar winner. It should be great but it is truly not great. Not even as exploitation. It’s a nightmarish mess that makes its somewhat beloved brand sort of a mystery. But there are plentiful lady parts on display, so there’s that…

COMPARISON #1
Opening Titles:

We mean business!

vs.

Stencil font, USED!

Advantage: Caged Heat!

Though the all-important exclamation mark is absent from the titles in the film, it tells the audience that this is a bold film with a bold mission. It also tells everyone to beware, because the 80’s are coming.
Fuck stencils.

COMPARISON #2
Cameo appearances.

If you squint really hard you can see clothing, a person, and a bathroom around the nipples.

vs.

If you squint really hard you can almost see a face in the flames.

Advantage: Caged Heat!

The hatred of a bra is sometimes a blessing and sometimes a curse befitting only the more dire of individuals. In this case, the lack of bra showcases things which prolong lives and not a torso-bound pestilence. With great power comes the responsibility not to dissolve a burning car wreck into a confused dame.
COMPARISON #3
Authority Figures/Adversaries.

Suckedincheeks Behemothtits.

vs.

Bumpkinhead II: Blood Wings.

Advantage: Jackson County Jail.

Barbara Steele is a nightmare here. Her filmography speaks for itself but her turn as a crippled warden* does little to enhance the experience. Because it forces us to focus on her acting.

Jackson Country Jail is rife with boring, expendable hicks. Just like the real world. I can identify with wanting to get as far away from these people as possible.

 

COMPARISON #4
Reading is fundamental.

Jealous of STENCILS?

vs.

Coming to theaters in 2012... Grand Theft Auto: Provo City Limits.

Advantage: Jackson County Jail.

The sheer disregard for aerial food hugely offends, but it appears the chopper denizens* at least are trying to adhere to the reading comprehension we all try to live up to. Then again, they could be just trying to find Curley’s Gold*.

COMPARISON #5
Illicit Acts!

Sorry folks, they're not accredited.

vs.

The Red Roof Inn still leaves a light on but the floorplans suck.

Advantage: Caged Heat!

I think the combination of “satisfying” and “sexy” are valuable adjectives to use in conjunction with women. Even more so than “conscious”, “speaking”, and “ambulatory”. And in prison the Missionary Position is downright Colonial. Yawn all over town.

COMPARISON #6
Taking a bite out of crime.

The 70's wasn't a cakewalk for these Failuremen.

vs.

Even with a contorting Tommy, the Man in Black was slower than bread.

Advantage: Russia.

Ooof, this is some really bad looking police work.

COMPARISON #7
Self Discovery!

She didn't even realize she was doing the Konami Code.

vs.

"Tonight on DENIM DISCOVERIES..."

Advantage: Caged Heat!

Sadly, the image above doesn’t sell the truth but is rather a set up to a horrible sleight of hand where we think the woman is “Jilling Off” only to be horrified that she’s about to roll some dice. Typical Jonathan Demme. You think something good’s happening and instead it’s The Truth About Charlie.

Speaking of misleading, the image from Jackson County Jail‘s not bargain either. She’s not treating herself to a little much-deserved pelvic derring-do. Yvette’s cleaning her Mimieux after roaming the countryside following her forced patronage.

Forgive these deceptions and exist in that dreamworld where ladies are always handling themselves.

COMPARISON #8
Ancient, unspeakable evil.

She did not win the Xenomorph costume contest.

vs.

John Waters' The Oregon Trail was not the least faithful video game adaptation, but...

Advantage: No.

Both images make me puke into my hands.

A Gentleman’s Closing:

Jackson County Jail is actually a movie. It’s well-shot. It’s very artful at times and features some really nice editing touches. It’s well-acted and features a very fine performance by Tommy Lee Jones at the beginning of his career. Tonally it’s somewhere between Bonnie & Clyde and Smokey and the Bandit with a little The Accused tossed in for flavor. Not much to hate.
Caged Heat! is a failure and the absolutely shoddy filmmaking isn’t charismatic or cute in the way some bad movies are. It’s just bad. And dumb. And useless. I don’t care how much nudity a film has.
Actually I do care, but there are so many better movies about hot and sweaty women in jail. Life’s too short.

WINNER:
YOU, if buy these.

BUY IT FROM US!

 

 

* Halo Name

There’s a very special place in my heart for women’s prison movies. Especially the exploitation of the 1970’s. It’s hard to find fault in violence, heaping quantities of nudity, and an extreme playfulness that hasn’t been seen in decades. These messy little flicks represent a beloved and special niche in the exploitation genre. They’re also a veritable who’s who of filmmakers and performers who continue to contribute quality work to this day. Except the ones that don’t. The sluts and whores and hacks who cling desperately to whatever recognition they can muster. Or the ones who died in a fuel of drugs and rough sex.