Trash Culture Tribute: The Ultimate Warrior

You didn't have to grow up a devout follower of the WWF or professional wrestling in general to have heard about The Ultimate Warrior. One of the top talents in the industry during those peak years of the late '80s and early '90s, the man formerly known as James Hellwig was known more for his intense and bizarre behavior than any in-ring abilities. He was a larger-than-life personality that captivated fans, and nearly dwarfed the superstar status of his legendary peer, Hulk Hogan.

He died yesterday at the age of 54.

Despite some severely controversial [and quite possibly deranged] statements in the years following his retirement from the ring, I've chosen to celebrate the life and the career of one of my childhood heroes. From a time when I only knew him as the single most electric and ferocious wrestler of all-time. Whether it was watching him feud with the likes of "Ravishing" Rick Rude and Andre the Giant. Going over to my aunt and uncle's house to watch WrestleMania VI, where he would defeat Hogan for the WWF World Heavyweight Championship. Or the one time I was able to see him in person, a show at the Boston Garden circa '91, where he battled against a then-heel Sgt. Slaughter in a steel-cage match.

I owned the "classic" Hasbro action figure of Warrior, along with trading cards and WWF magazines that featured him, and a t-shirt that I wore to the point of disintegration. I can't claim that I ever painted my face in his likeness, but I certainly tried to live those pre-teen years with the same wild energy that he displayed week after week on my television screen.

It was announced a short while ago that Warrior, no longer legally known as anything but, had made amends with Vince McMahon and others within the WWF/WWE. He appeared in a commercial for their latest video game, and he was the first announced for the WWE Hall of Fame's "Class of 2014".

Knowing that The Ultimate Warrior was coming back, it seemed like the perfect time for me to go digging through the quarter-bins at my local comic shop in search of the short-lived, self-published comic book that Warrior wrote back in the mid-'90s. I remember a friend buying a copy off the racks when it was first released, which I casually flipped through at the time, but nothing about it really stayed fresh in my mind. Thankfully, I guess, I was able to locate a copy of issue number one in those neglected long-boxes at the back of my shop. The idea was to include it in a new feature I was looking to cook up for the blog, but hadn't yet gotten around to. So, I filed it away with a few dozen other books for a later date.

The WWE Hall of Fame induction was this past Saturday, the day before WrestleMania XXX. I didn't watch the event, mostly because I haven't been keeping up with professional wrestling this last decade plus, except for a best-friend who still watches religiously and can't help but gush about the latest news. Likewise, I missed Warrior's appearance on Monday Night Raw two days ago; his first time on the program since 1996.

Sadly, it would also be his last appearance on Raw.
 

I had originally intended to poke fun at the Warrior comic, due to the tragically-dated, super-exaggerated '90s art. Its confusing and strange philosophies concerning destrucity and the "Terrain of Testament" that Warrior includes in the introduction and the narrative of the story. How it's difficult to follow, all this muddled and vague nonsense about BELIEFS and the "Spirit of the Warrior", and I realize now that Warrior or James Hellwig or however he chose to identify himself through the years, that he believed in something. That he believed in himself and in those around him, and that he built a family and worked these last few years to make amends with those he felt he had wronged. Despite what seemed like decades of inane and weird ramblings, strong and polarizing opinions, he was a man who lived his life with a raw and ferocious tenacity that I find myself envying.

He spoke often of immortality, up to and including his appearance on the latest episode of Monday Night Raw. I wanna include a little excerpt from that last promo he gave, because it really and truly feels like he knew that it was his final time in the spotlight.

Every man's heart one day beats its final beat. His lungs breathe a final breath. And if what that man did in his life makes the blood pulse through the body of others, and makes them bleed deeper, and something larger than life, then his essence, his spirit, will be immortalized. By the storytellers, by the loyalty, by the memory of those who honor him and make the running the man did live forever.

Here's to you, Warrior.

Thank you so very much for being such a huge part of my childhood.

Adding to the Trash Pile: Super Savers Saturday Edition

There's a couple big posts coming down the pipe-line in the very near future, but I wanted to break up the rhythm here a little while we're waiting. Sprinkle some small posts in between the weekly Bogdanovich Challenges, so it doesn't seem like I'm just half-assed reviewing classic cinema these days. Thankfully, a quick visit to my favorite thrift shop this morning proved to be fruitful. A regular fruitful station, minus Michael B. Jordan or regular Michael Jordan or any of the other guys from ProStars.

Generic He-Man and the Masters of the Universe action figures..!

That's probably the first thing you thought of when you saw the two fellas up above, and really, you're not too far off. These two Adonises, muscles sculpted from plastic-marble, are, in actuality, "The Nature Boy" Ric Flair and Rick "The Model" Martel. Part of Remco's AWA [that's the American Wrestling Association] toy-line from 1985. I never owned either of these as a kid, despite being a huge fan of professional wrestling, because my heart and soul belonged to the House-that-Hulk-Hogan-built, The WWF.

Flair, I remember fondly and best as the ultimate heel; tormenting poor Miss Elizabeth and trying to tear apart her romance with "The Macho Man" Randy Savage, who was [and still is] one of my all-time favorite wrestlers. Flair betraying his former advisor, Mr. Perfect, and losing to him in a "Loser Leaves Town" match on one of the premiere episodes of Monday Night Raw. Flair leading the Four Horsemen, and epic battles with Sting and Lex Luger over in WCW.

I feel less strongly [weakly?] about Rick Martel. First off, his toy is absolutely the most plain-looking action figure I've ever seen. Before I locked down his true identity thanks to various websites, I toyed with the idea that he might be Ricky Steamboat or Tito Santana or Larry Zbysko or or or...

You get the idea.

So, besides having difficulties in identifying a mid-card talent like Martel, he also earns some red-marks for being, well, a mid-card talent. Now, don't get me wrong, I loved guys who weren't in the main-event; guys feuding for the Intercontinental Title or forming random tag-teams, because why not? But Rick Martel was best known [to me, at least] as the narcissistic heel who brought an over-sized bottle of his own "perfume" to the ring, and spraying his opponents in the eyes and blinding them.

The best thing to spring from that was him being forced to compete in a "Blindfold Match" against Jake "The Snake" Roberts at Wrestlemania VII.

I sorta' miss when I used to feel passionately about grown men wearing speedos and tights battling one another in the squared circle, but then I don't at all.

Actually, here's another two from the same AWA wrestling line. I'd never heard of "The Fabulous Ones", a tag-team consisting of Stan Lane and Steve Keirn, before today. Wikipedia informs me that they were credited with being the first team with the "Pretty Boy" gimmick, made famous by later tag-teams like The Rock 'n Roll Express and The Rockers.

God, now I wanna watch Shawn Michaels super-kick his former partner, Marty Jannetty, and then throw him through the window of "The Barbershop".

Wrestling is dumb.

I'll tell you what isn't dumb, though, and it is totally VHS.

Fred Ward portraying The Destroyer in Remo Williams: The Adventure Begins (1985) is perfection. I haven't watched the film in years, but plan on rectifying that as soon as possible. Maybe once I'm finished showing off this ridiculous junk. Don't be surprised if I can barely muster the energy or enthusiasm to say more than a few words about Disney's Darkwing Duck: His Favorite Adventures.

Actually, I guess the correct title is "Darkly Dawns the Duck", and it's an origin tale for the most beloved caped-and-cowled fowl. That ties it into the Remo Williams film better than I could have planned it to, which is equal parts awesome and really, really stupid.

I take back what I said before about VHS not being dumb. Sometimes it can be, especially if it features Launchpad McQuack.

Also, here's some comic books that I bought. They came from the dollar-bins at my local comic shop, and I didn't need to buy them at all, since I already own thousands and thousands of floppies. Unfortunately, I'm a sucker for Mike Allred's Madman riding an atomic bomb, Mark Waid-written issues of The Flash, and random, awful titles from the '90s, like Malibu Comics' Rune.

There's also a single Spider-Man book, because I definitely needed more of those.

My name now is Bo, and Bo knows nothing about saving a dollar.

Bring On the Bad Guys

Volume II..!

Yeah, I'm back with a second installment of scum and villainy. A day off spent cleaning and organizing my trash meant uncovering a small bin of toys that could easily be overlooked tucked away in the closet. It's a travesty, because some of the bin's inhabitants were purchased for the sole purpose of taking a look at 'em here on the blog. Instead, they wound up tossed aside and nearly forgotten! A fate worse than death! But since we all know that no bad-guy stays down for too long, it's time to give them their moment to shine. To rise from the ashes like a Dark Phoenix.

You better watch out, planet full of broccoli people.

There's no need to rehash my love-letter to everything evil; just a simple reminder that the antagonists appeal to me a lot more than any good guys ever could. Or to put it in even simpler terms: Skeletor > He-Man.

Let's get down and dirty.

DOOM.

Doctor Doom, to be precise, is easily one of the most recognizable characters [villainous or otherwise] in Marvel Comics' stable of characters. Victor Von has spent the last several decades tangling with his accursed foes, The Fantastic Four, and ruling the fictional nation of Latveria with his iron-fists. He rarely deviates from these two tasks, only occasionally clashing with other heroic fools and sometimes attempting to steal the limitless powers of god-like beings. And somehow we never seem to get bored with the guy!

It could be how loquacious the fella is or how he isn't afraid to wear a skirt and a Santa Claus-esque belt or the time he killed his long-lost love and wore her skin as his magic-fueled armor. It could be because we like watching him fail; his plans getting foiled by everyone from "Benjy" Grimm to Squirrel Girl.

Confound that wretched rodent..!

Everybody's got a price and "The Million Dollar Man" Ted DiBiase's was nowhere near the amount you'd expect. Not even close to a million, I paid exactly three bucks for this classic, Hasbro-produced beauty. I know, he looks less like a villain and more like he should be hosting some daytime game-show that would air before The Price is Right.

Unfortunately, the guy just can't hold a candle when it comes to a skinny Drew Carey, even though they've both been inducted into the WWE Hall of Fame.

God, that's depressing.

Tally Hawk..!

I was a huge fan of the SilverHawks cartoon when it originally aired in the late '80s, but never owned any of the toys as a kid. Too distracted by G.I.Joe and Transformers and other odd toy-lines, the action figures were something I knew only from the handful that one of my friends owned. If he had owned Buzz-Saw, the brightly-colored robot you see above, I probably would have begged my mom to rush me off to Bradlees or Ames to pick one up for myself.

Nevermind the delicious shade of green, it's all the jagged gears/saws that cover seventeen percent of his body that really draws me in. He's simultaneously cartoonish and threatening, which is a two-hit combo that I've never been able to resist. It should be no surprise that he's one of the first "vintage" toys that I actively sought out when I decided to get back into collecting trash from my childhood.

The early '90s are best represented by bright colors and eco-terrorism. Here we have two action figures, from two different toy-lines, both involving heroes that want only to protect Mother Earth and all her beautiful creatures. On the right, hailing from the Toxic Crusaders series, released by Playmates in 1991, is the uber-ridiculous Bonehead. His gas-mask-wearing friend in the orange jumpsuit is Weed Killer, one of Arcane's Un-Men, best known as fighting foes of Swamp Thing.

These two could spell trouble for do-gooders and nature-lovers everywhere, but they seem more concerned with mugging for the camera. Bonehead obviously approves, giving a big thumbs-up to his baddie-buddy's awful impression of Bullwinkle J. Moose.

Joey Gladstone, he is not.

One of these things is not like the others...

I feel like, well, if you've visited this blog before, you should already be familiar with the adventures of Blackstar. An intergalactic hero stranded on a sword-and-sorcery world, he's a sorta' predecessor to Filmation's later, and far more successful, He-Man and the Masters of the Universe. Although, if I'm being completely honest, I don't remember the Blackstar animated series or the action figures at all. I wasn't born yet when the cartoon originally aired, and was only a couple years old when the toys finally started hitting shelves. It's possible I knew someone who owned some, but I don't recall ever seeing anything Blackstar until years later.

My actual introduction to everything John Blackstar was that mean, green, demonic figurine above, sitting on a bookshelf belonging to one of my housemates' back in '02. It was another couple years before I was able to place where it originated from, and several more before I ever owned one myself. Shortly after, I managed to score his blue-ish doppelganger. You see, these "demon" sidekicks came packaged with the villainous figures from the Blackstar toy-line, and were available in multiple colors.

I'll probably spend the rest of my days hunting down an orange one and a pink one.

The grosser looking guy in the middle is named Slobber; he's nearly a decade older, from a completely different line of toys, and actually would have fit in better with Weed Killer and Bonehead. The Trash Bag Bunch was released by Galoob in 1991, and featured a team of heroic warriors known as the Disposers, who attempted to thwart the eco-unfriendly schemes of the Trashors. Everything truly was about the environment and ozone layers and recycling back in 1991, even kids' toys that sorta' resembled Gremlins.

I've been meaning to write about the Trash Bag Bunch in detail; I went so far as to buy a huge lot of loose figures on eBay several months back. It seems, however, that others have already taken a good, long look at the series, and I'm probably better off sparing you my half-assed attempts and just pointing you in their direction. So, here's the insidious Bogleech doing a far better job than I ever could.

Evil comes in many sizes, and despite his miniscule stature, none are as horrific as Squish the Sogmaster. The closest thing to an arch-enemy that Cap'n Crunch has, this robotic nightmare wants nothing more than to spoil your delicious breakfast cereals. All shall tremble at the mere mention of his name! Cower before the might and menace of Squish the Sogmaster..!

Seriously, I love this guy. There are vague, but super-pleasant, memories from my childhood that involve a contest run by Quaker Oats, where the good Cap'n went missing and lovers of his cereal were tasked with finding him. The promotion involved a couple ads in Marvel comic books, featuring Spider-Man battling the Soggies, and also an 800-number you could call when you finally solved the mystery. A pre-recorded message from Cap'n Crunch himself thanked you for saving him from the evil clutches of Squish and his Soggie minions.

This is a thing that I actually took part in as a kid, and I remember huddling around the phone with my older sister and my dad, listening to the Cap'n personally congratulating us on a job well done. How many of you can claim you saved a beloved, nautical-themed cereal mascot?

I bet none.

You've all wasted your lives!

Where as, clearly, since I have time to take pictures of a Gobot and Magmar, leader of the Evil Rock Lords, standing triumphant over a fallen copy of Transformers: The Movie (1986), I am doing something right.

I need to stop lying to myself.

I need to. 

CUT. IT. OUT.

Seven Random Picks From The VHSPS

While most spent this Blackest Friday waking up early to assault one another for Westinghouse televisions and dirt-cheap copies of Connect 4, yours truly was out there at 1am to sell the crazies Ipads and Xbox Ones and other expensive electronics. If my poor choices didn't lead me to a life of retail, I would have gladly slept in and eaten leftover squash pie for breakfast. No need to try and beat the crowds for door-busting deals for this Trash Man. There's still plenty of days left to shop and lots of great deals to be found online.

Like those offered by The VHS Preservation Society.

For those unfamiliar with VHSPS, it's a wonderful website that offers affordable DVD transfers of films that were previously only available on VHS. There are quite a few movies that most don't have the opportunity to catch now that videos have become an obsolete medium. Few still have a functioning VCR in their households and sometimes finding additional copies of many of these titles is near impossible or far too expensive. The VHSPS allows film fanatics the chance to add "new" copies of long-forgotten or totally unknown flicks to their collections for pennies and nickels and the occasional dime.

And, naturally, they've jumped on the Black Friday/Cyber Monday bandwagon and are currently offering fifty-percent off all their available titles between now and December 2nd. All you have to do is enter the codeword black50 when you're checking out your order and all discs are half-off. They ran a similar promotion last holiday and I was sure to take advantage of their extreme generosity.

Last year's haul wasn't super-impressive. Four flicks for a measly twenty-bucks was a great deal, too good to pass up, but I didn't have any experience with the quality of their DVD transfers, so hesitated in purchasing too many. Several of my VHS copies of these pictured films are too well-worn to watch or were damaged by tape mold, so it's nice to be able to view them at my leisure without worrying about losing the VHS forever.

The quality for each was about what you'd expect and that's not at all a bad thing. The VHSPS use the best possible source materials for their copies, but there's the occasional imperfection because they're recorded from old tapes. The memories of hours spent roaming your local mom 'n pop video store will come roaring back when you do experience the rare tracking line or audio pop. Charming in how purely nostalgic they can be.

I went a little crazier with my purchases this year. Replacing some recent thrift shop finds with questionable condition with cheap DVD copies; stuff like Stay Tuned (1992) and Neon Maniacs (1986). I'm hoping to highlight a few sometime before the year is out, but today is all about some of the other titles that caught my eye when I was buying my most recent lot of discs.

So, here's several random flicks offered by The VHSPS that I'm hoping to add to my collection sometime in the near future.

Meet The Applegates (1989) is one of those movies that I was always drawn to when I was a kid but never got around to watching. The box tucked safely away on the back wall of Video Showplace, my local haunt and the first place to employ me, with the rest of the Comedy section. I was always intrigued at the idea of giant insects posing as a stereotypical "nuclear" family with the hidden agenda of wiping out humanity. It could be because I've always been more of a fan of bizarre black comedies than your typical slapstick or satire.

Plus, Ed Begley, Jr..!

Jesus, I'd probably seen Brainsmasher... A Love Story (1993) nearly a dozen times when I was a pre-teen. It seems like HBO or TMC used to air it constantly and I'm not entirely sure why I kept coming back to watch it, but I did. We'll blame it on a huge Teri Hatcher crush inspired by her role as Lois Lane on Lois & Clark: The New Adventures of Superman. It most definitely is not because of the scene where Andrew Dice Clay leaves an imprint of his fist in some yakuza thug's face, literally smashing his brain in the process.

The Keep (1983) is early Michael Mann attempting an atmospheric horror flick set during World War II and it mostly works. There's an awesome soundtrack from Tangerine Dream that is completely lacking in the current version streaming on Amazon instant video. And since it's still unavailable as a "proper" DVD or blu-ray, nabbing a copy from the VHSPS is the only way to see it as it was originally intended.

It's also further evidence that Ian McKellen can't seem to escape from appearing in movies either with or as a Nazi unless he's a fucking wizard.

I seriously doubt anything I could say about The Hidden (1987) will do it justice. Telling you that there's an alien parasite that leaps from body to body and two cops who are trying to hunt it down is the most basic way of summing it up. It's full of speeding cars and heavy metal music and explosions and a little bit of the ultra-violence one expects from an '80s action/sci-fi hybrid. Also, boobs and Kyle MacLachlan, but not Kyle MacLachlan's boobs.

Time for a true confession of a Trash Man; I love The Two Coreys. You can blame having grown up in the '80s and early '90s and watching too much cable TV, but I adore everything from The Lost Boys (1987) to Silver Bullet (1985) to Rock 'n Roll High School Forever (1991). If either of the Coreys are there, I'm in. Combine the charisma and overwhelming rad-ness-itude of both Haim and Feldman and I'm in heaven. License to Drive (1988) does that and throws in Carol Kane and a younger Heather Graham.

So overwhelming.

Charles Bands' Empire Pictures was responsible for dozens of "classic" genre flicks during the 1980s before turning into Full Moon Pictures and adding even more fantastic titles to their credits the following decade. Zone Troopers (1985) is one of my favorites. Another WWII-era flick, this one features a crashed alien spaceship and the American G.Is who must prevent the out-of-this-world technology from falling into the hands of the Third Reich. It's cheesy, sure, but in the best possible way.

The VHSPS offers copies of several old wrestling tapes; WWF and WCW fare from before their peak runs during The Attitude Era. Most are random compilations from the early '90s, but there's the occasional pay-per-view like WWF's King of the Ring show from 1993. This was the first KotR to air on PPV and is one of the most memorable from the ten-year run. You've got Hulk Hogan prior to jumping ship to WCW defending his championship title against Yokozuna and an eight-man tag match featuring The Million Dollar Man and The Steiner Brothers.

The main attraction to the show, however, was the elimination tournament to crown the true King of the Ring. Spoilers for a two decade old show, but Bret Hart defeated Bam Bam Bigelow in the finals to win. Memorable in that it would eventually lead into a lengthy feud with Jerry "The King" Lawler, a talent perhaps best known for punching Andy Kaufman one-time and hanging out with a midget named Queasy.

Wrestling is dumb.