BERSERK (1967), aka BERSERK!

Director: Jim O’Connolly

Writers: Herman Cohen, Aben Kandel

Producer: Herman Cohen

Cast: Joan Crawford, Ty Hardin, Judy Geeson, Diana Dors, Michael Gough, Robert Hardy, Geoffrey Keen, George Claydon, Philip Madoc, Sydney Taffler, Ambrosine Philpotts, Thomas Cimarro, Milton Reid, Ted Lune, Golda Casimir, Peter Burton, Marianne Stone, Miki Iveria, Howard Goorney, Reginald Marsh, Bryan Pringle

During a performance at The Great Rivers Circus in England, tightrope walker Gaspar the Great (Thomas Cimarro) is killed in a gruesome accident. As a result, circus attendance soars. The steel-willed co-owner and ringmistress of the circus, Monica Rivers (Joan Crawford), appreciates the increase in revenue that the morbid publicity generates. But as more deaths to circus personnel occur, suspicion and fear spread among the circus performers.

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Once again the team of producer Herman Cohen and his writing partner, Aben Kandel, provide more thrills and chills in 1967’s Berserk. During the 1960s, American filmmaker Cohen’s productions had settled in England, but they were still punching the audience’s panic buttons. The horror Cohen is pitching this time around has a circus setting. Many circus acts serve to pad out the film’s running time and add a lot of production value to make this B film seem quite lavish. It is the Billy Smart Circus that provides many of the acts we see performed under the big top. Two other British-backed movies were also filmed in this famous venue: Circus of Horrors (1960) and Circus of Fear (1967).

Cohen’s Berserk provides even more spectacle with his chosen star: Joan Crawford. The Oscar-winning actress was entering the twilight of her career, but during the 1960s she had already appeared in a few successful shockers. In 1962’s What Ever Happened to Baby Jane?, Crawford co-starred with another aging Hollywood legend, Bette Davis. That hit film led to the “psycho-biddy” trend of thrillers starring older, established actresses usually playing against type. For horror-meister William Castle, Crawford starred in Straight-Jacket (1964) and I Saw What You Did (1965).

Supposedly, Joan Crawford’s clout prompted a title change for this film. Originally, it was called Circus of Blood, but Crawford suggested Berserk. That was certainly a memorable title that I’ll bet Crawford thought sounded a bit less exploitational. Her title would also keep this film from being confused with the previously made circus-based thrillers. What remains unknown is did Crawford suggest the title with or without an exclamation mark? The onscreen title has no punctuation, yet the posters for the film usually add an exclamation mark. Which is it?! It’s enough to drive this anal-retentive film fanatic berserk!

It seems that no matter what stage her career was at, or the intent of the material she was performing in, Joan Crawford always gave it her all. She did not think that headlining a lurid thriller made her any less of a star. In fact, Crawford quite rightly must have felt that her name was lending these productions a lot of prestige. She also thought that her fans must always perceive her as a star. Therefore, she had to give them a performance worthy of a star. In addition to her ballyhoo as the ringmistress announcing the acts and her take-charge demeanor with circus employees, Crawford deftly delivers a few saucy one-liners and subtle expressions that display her character’s worldly confidence.

Joan Crawford seems simpatico with her role in Berserk. Crawford was determined and relentless in achieving and maintaining her stardom. She channels that same resolve into her performance as the head of the circus that is the story’s setting. Her Monica Rivers is rather opportunistic about the bizarre death of her tightrope performer that has resulted in very profitable notoriety for her circus. Monica also demands that the show must go on, and it seems that her commanding presence is all that keeps the circus folk in line despite their paranoia. There are not a lot of shadings to her character or any others in this film, yet there is some ambiguity about them, which is appropriate in a mystery yarn.

For this horror fan, and a devotee of producer Herman Cohen’s flicks in particular, another name in this cast that gets my attention is Michael Gough. With Joan Crawford’s star power taking center stage, Gough is left with a supporting role instead of the villainous main attraction he had provided to distinguish Cohen’s previous Horrors of the Black Museum (1959), Konga (1961), and Black Zoo (1963). I find it quite interesting that Gough’s usual dominant and heartless role in a movie relationship is reversed in Berserk. Here his Albert Dorando is the subordinate and lovelorn business partner to Crawford’s Monica Rivers. Actor Gough performs an amusing about-face having the decency to criticize Crawford’s character for being cold-blooded about the tragedy that took the life of a circus performer. But fear not, Gough fans! The great Michael Gough’s vile villainy would be redeemed in the next Joan Crawford-starring Herman Cohen fright flick, Trog (1970).

Ty Hardin had starred as the hero on the ABC television network Western series Bronco (1959-62). Here Hardin plays hot-tempered Frank Hawkins, the handsome replacement for the deceased Gaspar the Great. Hawkins is suspect for not only conveniently showing up to replace the just-killed high-wire artist, he also is pretty deliberate about putting the moves on Monica Rivers. His proposition to become her business partner in the circus makes him appear up front about his ambitions, yet he still seems rather suspicious. While Hawkins acts frustrated with Monica’s reserve in their potential romance, we wonder if his urges are driven more by profit than passion.

The sexy standout in Berserk is Diana Dors. Once groomed to be the British alternative to Marilyn Monroe, Dors provides plenty of sparks to justify her blonde bombshell status. As Matilda, the assistant to the magician Lazlo (Philip Madoc), she is the circus sexpot and troublemaker. Whether she is trying to seduce the Magnificent Hawkins, badmouthing the magician she lives with, spreading malicious gossip, or getting into catfights, Matilda is probably my favorite character in Berserk. Any bodacious babe who drops by with notions of nookie in her noggin and brings her own booze is still a class act in my book.

Judy Geeson shows up as Angela Rivers, Monica’s just-booted-from-boarding school daughter. Angela’s reunion with her mother serves to soften the edges of the Monica Rivers character, making the hard-nosed circus owner a bit more sympathetic. This also seems to be following the Herman Cohen formula for having youthful characters prominent in his horror films.

Like many giallo films, or the slasher films that they would inspire, Berserk has us playing the whodunit guessing game. The oh so dapper Detective Supt. Brooks makes sure that we are mulling over the various suspects. As was often the case in Cohen’s films and horror movies in general, the officers of the law are diligent but largely ineffectual. Nevertheless, I enjoy Robert Hardy’s smooth assurance as Brooks. He convinces us that having him tag along with the Rivers Circus should reveal the killer. In the meantime, Brooks displays the smoothest fast draw I’ve ever seen when lighting Monica’s cigarettes. Although some may regard the police procedural antics as just padding, I appreciate that the authorities dealing with fright flick atrocities are often out of their depth. This lends a lasting sense of chaos and unease to the proceedings.

Ultimately, Berserk is simply a showcase for Joan Crawford that kills time with circus acts and squabbles between the murders. Fully enjoying the film requires one to appreciate being part of that circus lifestyle for an hour and a half. I am all too happy to settle for this vicarious video experience. Although my immaturity means that I am never too old to consider running away to join the circus, unless I could land a sideshow gig as the Great Couch Potato, I would probably end up pounding tent stakes and shoveling up elephant droppings.

This post was contributed to The Third 'Favorite Stars in B Movies' Blogathon hosted at Films From Beyond the Time Barrier.

THE GIANT SPIDER INVASION (1975)

Director: Bill Rebane

Writers: Richard L. Huff, Robert Easton

Producers: Richard L. Huff, Bill Rebane

Cast: Steve Brodie, Barbara Hale, Robert Easton, Leslie Parrish, Alan Hale, Jr., Diane Lee Hart, Paul Bentzen, Kevin Brodie, Bill Williams, Christiane Schmidtmer, Tain Bodkin, J. Stewart Taylor, William W. Gillett, Jr., David B. Hoff, Joe Thingvall (uncredited)

A meteor plummets to Earth landing in North Central Wisconsin. It contains geodes that bust open like eggs to reveal diamonds and hairy spiders. Some of the extraterrestrial arachnids soon grow to giant size and feed on cattle and humans. It’s up to a couple of scientists (Barbara Hale and Steve Brodie) and the local sheriff (Alan Hale, Jr.) to quell the panic and figure out how to destroy the monsters.

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Nowadays, horror movie titles usually have a the-shorter-the-better attitude. I guess that’s supposed to be more classy or evocative. Jaws (1975) probably set that standard, but it also effectively suggests what you’re getting while using a common word that is unusual for use in a film title. Only just the right word really works for that single-word-title technique. Everyone going to see Jaws already knew that it was a giant shark horror movie. It also helped that it was promoted by a major studio and based on Peter Benchley’s bestselling novel.

In 1975 we also got The Giant Spider Invasion. Now, that’s a title that says it all, doesn’t it? It’s an unforgettable title that tells its audience exactly what they’re going to get. Of course, such explicit titles today are also telling the audience that they’re getting something that is knowingly absurd. Nowadays, everything is so damned self-conscious that when a title spells out the bizarre content of the flick it must be intentionally ironic garbage, right? I yearn for the days when such a title meant unpretentious garbage such as The Giant Spider Invasion.

Garbage may be too strong a word to use from my perspective. I think this film is the movie equivalent of cold, day-old pizza from out of the fridge; nothing fancy or as good as it could have been, but it gives me exactly what I need sometimes. It is also seasoned with plenty of quirks, which always suits the taste of a quirky fellow like me.

According to star Robert Easton, the film’s original script by R.L. Huff was awful and dead serious. Easton convinced director Bill Rebane that he could salvage it by rewriting it as a spoof. However, original writer Huff was also the producer, so he removed a lot of the humor that Easton added with his rewrite. Easton still managed to sneak some gags past the humorless Huff, and it is probably Easton’s input that gives some characters their funny, uncouth edge. Perhaps it is that Easton-Huff conflict of intent that lends the film a bit of irreverent wit without it becoming the snarky kind of stuff that keeps anyone from engaging with the story. There is nothing thematically heavy going on here, but the horror of the situation is dealt with sincerely.

The premise is simple and plays out quite straightforward, except for the two scientists’ double talk to justify what the hell a meteorite is doing here with giant spiders coming out of it. Actors Steve Brodie and Barbara Hale (Della Street from the Perry Mason television series), as scientists Dr. J.R. Vance and Dr. Jenny Langer, strive valiantly to make it sound like there is method to this script’s sci-fi madness. It all has something to do with a black hole spewing out this spider invasion from another dimension. I don’t ever recall black holes getting any sci-fi movie mentions before, so I guess it sounded pretty advanced. Or maybe the sweaty, fire-and-brimstone revivalist preacher’s (Tain Bodkin) rant at the beginning of the film brings about this horrible phenomenon as a way to make those local yokels pay for their sins. Geez, maybe this flick isn’t quite as straightforward as I first thought.

As Sheriff Jones, Alan Hale, Jr. (yes, the Skipper of Gilligan’s Island TV fame), is fun. He is allowed a couple of light moments early on that break the fourth wall with the audience. I usually resent that kind of stuff, but I can excuse it in small doses in a movie that is as rambunctious as this one. I really get a kick out of Sheriff Jones taking an eternity to get away from that damned phone in his office to actually do some sheriffing. When he finally does, the town folk pretty much ignore him, which leads to plenty of casualties.

My favorite scenes are those dealing with the members of the Kester rural household. There is an unsavory aspect to them that really holds my interest. Since the Kester clan is the most interesting bunch of characters in the film, it probably explains why they are also the film’s best performances.

The unlikely bickering couple of loutish farmer Dan Kester (Robert Easton) and his gorgeous, alcoholic wife Ev (Leslie Parrish of 1959’s Lil’ Abner, 1962’s The Manchurian Candidate, and featured in the original Star Trek TV series episode “Who Mourns for Adonis?”) are amusing and sometimes a bit pathetic. That lucky bum Dan Kester landed this beautiful woman and has her cooped up in the middle of nowhere on his farm, but he is stepping out to screw around with a sexy, local waitress (Christiane Scmidtmer), despite his encumbrance of a very unflattering back support girdle. While Dan is out tomcattin’ around, his bored wife calls up the proprietor (Bill Williams) of the local cafe to deliver more booze, and, if he hurries, Ev will make it worth his while.

Ev’s scrumptious, younger sister, Terry (Diane Lee Hart), is living in the same house. When her boyfriend Davey (Kevin Brodie) comes to visit, Ev flirts with him while sucking up more booze. Fair’s fair though, as her philandering hick hubby Dan is soon propositioning Terry. He is trying to win her over with the diamonds he has found at the site of the meteor landing on his farm. Little Terry plays hard to get; she flaunts what she’s got to Dan one second and insults him the next, but she doesn’t outright reject him. She doubts the authenticity of the gem, but seems mighty interested in it just the same.

Upping the sleaze factor even more, Terry’s cousin Billy (Paul Bentzen) also tries to get some from her because, as he points out, they’re not related by blood so they can be “kissin’ cousins.” Because he’s not brandishing diamonds, Terry brushes him off in a hurry.

This film was originally conceived as an invasion of normal-sized spiders, but the distributor dictated that giant spiders were needed to seal the financing deal. Director Rebane managed to arrange for a local welder to help manufacture his monster spider on the fly with only $10,000 set aside for his special effects budget. Once the title menace of this movie shifts into gear, it is courtesy of a Volkswagen Beetle that was stripped down and outfitted with a hairy spider body and eight moving legs manipulated by a bunch of teenagers stuffed inside the contraption. Such is the stuff of low-budget monster movie legend. It looks quite effective during long shots in the hills and fields or behind a fleeing crowd. It’s a fun, gross effect to see victims get sucked up into the spider’s bloody maw, but nothing could be grosser than Ev’s Bloody Mary. Cheers!

While based in Chicago, Bill Rebane had started making his first feature length film in 1963. That sci-fi horror movie was originally titled Terror at Halfday, but when Rebane’s finances ran out, it was finished as Monster a-Go Go! (1965) by the notorious goremeister Herschell Gordon Lewis. In the late 1960s, Rebane purchased farm property near Gleason, Wisconsin and created a film studio he used for producing commercials and industrial films. He returned to feature film production in the 1970s and 1980s.

The Giant Spider Invasion was the second of Wisconsin-based producer-director Bill Rebane’s completed feature films. Although Rebane went on to make more horror movies in Wisconsin, The Giant Spider Invasion is certainly his best remembered one. It probably benefits the most from the writers-at-odds-with-each-other tastes in that oddball Huff-Easton script. Rebane gathering the starring cast of Alan Hale, Jr., Leslie Parrish, and Barbara Hale for a $300,000-budget movie shot in the middle of rural Wisconsin is quite a feat for a regional filmmaker.

As a kid, I lived in North Central Wisconsin when this creature feature was being made. The local media publicized its production pretty well before its local release. A monster movie being shot around my neck of the woods meant that I just had to see it. I was not disappointed. What really put this flick over for me was the delectable Diane Lee Hart’s split second of toplessness. This was pushing the PG-rated envelope, and I felt like I was really getting away with something as a shocked mother nearby hustled her kid out of the theater. I gotta admit that scene still does it for me. I suppose that makes me the world’s oldest 13-year-old.

FANGS OF THE LIVING DEAD (1969), aka MALENKA, THE NIECE OF THE VAMPIRE

Director: Amando de Ossorio

Writer: Amando de Ossorio

Producers: Aubrey Ambert, Rosanna Yanni

Cast: Anita Ekberg, Julián Ugarte, Diana Lorys, Adriana Ambesi, Rosanna Yanni, Gianni Medici (as John Hamilton), César Benet (as Guy Robers), Fernando Bilbao, Carlos Casaravilla, Paul Muller, Adriana Santucci, Juanita Ramírez, Aurelia Treviño, Keith Kendal

Model Sylvia Morel (Anita Ekberg) is notified that she has inherited Walbrooke castle and will be a countess. She leaves Rome to visit her new property and meets her strange uncle, Count Walbrooke (Julián Urgarte). He informs Sylvia that her lookalike grandmother, Malenka, was burned as a witch, but not before discovering the secret of immortality. Malenka made her husband immortal by turning him into a vampire. That vampire is actually the present day Count Walbrooke. The Count will not allow Sylvia to return to Rome as he tries to convince her that she is no longer fit to live with mortals.

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Originally titled Malenka, the Niece of the Vampire, Fangs of the Living Dead was Spanish writer-director Amando de Ossorio’s first horror film. Perhaps that explains why it is so uneven and confused in terms of its tone and its logic. Some of this is due to the ending being tampered with by the producer, yet that is no less satisfying than the main characters’ behavior at the finish of the film in its original form.

The gorgeous Anita Ekberg stars as Rome model Sylvia Morel. As simplistic as her character is and as nearly uneventful as her situation plays out, her beauty and some of her wild outfits do manage to maintain some interest.

For all of its faults, this flick certainly does not skimp on the feminine eye candy. Joining Ekberg in the cast are Euro-beauties Diana Lorys, Rosanna Yanni, and Adriana Ambesi. It is Ambesi who provides the most eroticism with the low-cut gown she nearly pops out of and the lesbian vibes in her character’s behavior when she first meets the rather submissive (and receptive?) Sylvia. With all of this pulchritude about, it is a shame that de Ossorio did not make this film just a few years later when the film market became more permissive. Whether these ladies would have been game for it or not, I am sure that de Ossorio would have contrived to have made things much more revealing.

Gianni Medici plays Sylvia’s fiancé, Dr. Piero Luciani. He’s the straight man alongside Max (César Benet), his tagalong best friend. It seems as though Max is around to send up the situations a bit, which just diffuses what little menace the story is trying to generate.

Julián Ugarte, having been featured in Paul Naschy’s debut horror film, Frankenstein’s Bloody Terror (1968), stars here as the main source of malevolence in the form of Count Walbrooke. He is always fine as a cold and aristocratic presence.

Speaking of Frankenstein’s Bloody Terror, that film’s great dungeon and some other castle interiors were also used in this film. These sets being actual locations lend a lot of authentic character to the Walbrooke Castle setting that much of the story takes place in.

Writer-director de Ossorio has some terrific assets to exploit in this film, yet his story does not seem willing to really let loose and provide the horror payoffs that the audience is expecting. He is trying to surprise the audience with his climax, yet along the way he rarely provides the thrills to sustain involvement in his story and characters. I am always willing to allow a filmmaker to confound expectations for a satisfying variation that may actually engage one’s attention, but de Ossorio seems to have taken all the bite out of this film’s premise. The final denouement, as originally presented, is dramatically limp. However, the producers-decreed, last-ditch-alteration ending is either totally contradictory, or meant to be a bit ambiguous. Oh hell, they were just trying to salvage this by tossing in a traditional terror tidbit that they thought the fright flick fans would swallow. It still doesn’t go down easy.

Director Amando de Ossorio will always be best known for his four Blind Dead films of the 1970s. The director would go on to become nearly as important an exponent of the Spanish horror film as Paul Naschy. His other horror efforts varied in quality and were often compromised by inadequate budgets, yet he wrote script after script that he kept ready for future production opportunities.

Amando de Ossorio’s Fangs of the Living Dead is chiefly of interest to his fans that want to see how he tentatively approached horror in his debut genre effort. All others should probably steer clear. Sylvia may be allergic to castles, and Max is allergic to garlic, but the most severe reaction will be suffered by an audience allergic to films with the ripe potential for Gothic horror spoiled by plot twists that result in a lot of illogical behavior.

THE INCREDIBLE 2-HEADED TRANSPLANT (1971)

Director: Anthony M. Lanza

Writers: James Gordon White, John Lawrence, Ross Massbaum (uncredited)

Producers: John Lawrence, Ross Massbaum (uncredited)

Cast: Bruce Dern, Pat Priest, Berry Kroeger, John Bloom, Albert Cole, Casey Kasem, Larry Vincent, Darlene Duralia, Jack Lester, Jerry Patterson, Ray Thorne, Gary Kent (as Donald Brody), Mary Ellen Clawsen, Mike Espe, Janice P. Gelman, Eva Sorensen, Andrew Schneider, Bill Collins, Jack English, Leslie Cole, Robert Miller, Carolyn Gilbert, Laura Lanza, William Bonner (uncredited), Phil Hoover (uncredited)

Dr. Roger Girard (Bruce Dern) has been experimenting in his home lab transplanting second heads onto various animals. The next step is to try human subjects. If a two-headed human transplant is successful, Dr. Girard will be closer to his ultimate goal: replacing the heads of brain-damaged people with the heads of those who are mentally sound but terminally ill. When insane killer Manuel Cass (Albert Cole) abducts Dr. Girard’s wife, Linda (Pat Priest), Girard and his lab assistant, Max (Berry Kroeger), follow in pursuit. During Linda’s rescue the murderous Cass is shot. Now Dr. Girard has a convenient opportunity to attach the dying criminal’s head to the body of Danny (John Bloom), the mentally handicapped giant staying in the Girard household.

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The title alone guarantees this flick its place in horror history. It also was the attention-getter that would get the drive-in crowd to pay up and pull in. If you were looking for sci-fi horror, The Incredible 2-Headed Transplant says that you need look no further.

The story is quite simple and depends on its Frankenstein variation to generate almost all of the interest. The rest of the interest is supplied by the luscious Pat Priest in an assortment of early ’70s outfits that scream, “I’m half-dressed with nowhere to go!” Priest is best known for replacing Beverley Owen as the beautiful blonde Marilyn in the classic TV sitcom The Munsters (1964-66). Her wholesome beauty is once again contrasted with monstrous characters, but in nastier circumstances this time around.

In retrospect, Bruce Dern’s appearance in this thing certainly elevates its curiosity value. Initially, he must have seemed like an odd choice to play a dedicated and ambitious surgeon. However, his past villainous roles have us braced to see him stoop to unethical behavior. He does give the role a sense of sincerity and never comes across as just a mad scientist. In the aftermath of a mental breakdown, Dern’s Dr. Roger Girard needs to prove his merit as a scientist to the world. That need for approval and redemption, along with the nagging of lab assistant Max, misdirects Girard’s moral compass. Girard is conflicted about what his experiment will do to the huge and innocent Danny, to whom he will be attaching a maniac’s head, but Girard overcomes that concern for what he thinks will eventually be for the good of mankind.

Every wannabe mad scientist worth his scalpel needs an unsavory lab assistant. Berry Kroeger plays Max, Dr. Girard’s scientific accomplice. He wants Girard’s transplant experiments to continue, regardless of any ethical considerations or criminal consequences. Former surgeon Max is frustrated by his damaged hands. Once head transplant surgery is perfected, the elderly Max wants his own head ported over to a new body that will allow him to perform surgery again. Geez, I think the guy really needs a hobby. However, it is Max’s mad science peer pressure that prods Dr. Girard onward to make a monster, so I guess I can cut the creep a little slack. After all, we don’t watch a flick called The Incredible 2-Head Transplant just to see two-headed lab animals munch their meals in cages.

Personally, I think the good Dr. Girard, if not mad, must have at least a few screws loose. How can any sane man spend all his time in the lab neglecting a wife who looks like Pat Priest? All Linda Girard wants is a little attention from her husband who locks himself away in his lab for days on end, yet she could become High Priestess of the Cult of the Bikini and have hordes of worshippers at her beck and call. Consider me for Chief Elder and Ogler in that congregation.

Famous disc jockey Casey Kasem, host of the music countdown show American Top 40 and voice of numerous Hanna-Barbera television cartoon characters, plays the role of Dr. Ken Anderson, a friend and confidant to the Girard couple. Dr. Anderson raises the ethical issue of Dr. Girard’s final goal: When replacing the head of someone who is brain-damaged with another head of a dying person, how is it decided who is truly more worthy of life? Kasem should have gotten stunt pay for managing to walk around beneath the crushing burden of his massive early ’70s collars and the biggest belt buckle this side of the WWE championship belt. I assume that his character’s specialty was not ophthalmology as he, and all those around him, run the risk of being blinded by the incredible tie he wears.

As insane killer Manuel Cass, Albert Cole seems to be having the most fun in this flick. He’s a wild-eyed, gap-toothed, laughing maniac who clearly enjoys his work. Slobbering all over Pat Priest is nice work, if you can get it. Cass may have awful manners, but he’s got great taste.

7’ 4” John Bloom plays the innocent, simple-minded Danny that gets the noggin of a maniac transplanted onto himself. The interaction between Bloom and Cole as two very different minds using one body is quite effective. The dominant head of the evil Cass berating and controlling his giant host is bizarre and amusing. Of course, the sadistic Cass makes the best of this bad situation and uses his huge and powerful new body to commit more murders. This is definitely a case of two heads not being better than one, except for horror fans. Bloom and Cole worked together the same year in a scene of director Al Adamson’s Dracula vs. Frankenstein (1971). There Bloom also played another product of mad science, the Frankenstein monster.

The success of The Incredible 2-Headed Transplant led to the consideration of a sequel. That ultimately became another unrelated two-headed transplant film called The Thing with Two Heads (1972). Over a decade earlier, The Manster (1959) pioneered the two-headed gimmick. However, it is The Incredible 2-Headed Transplant that has the honor of being the finest two-headed monster movie. That is an honor it truly deserves; the other movies don’t have Pat Priest in a bikini.