‘The Nico Mastorakis Collection’ Blu-ray Review: Arrow Video

Nico Mastorakis has an uncanny ability to pull ideas from disparate sources and run them through the Cuisinart of his idiosyncratic sensibility to produce something utterly idiosyncratic. The six films collected in Arrow Video’s new box set—one suggestive religious allegory and five indecent action comedies—bear witness to Mastorakis’s skills as a pop-culture bricoleur. As a result, they serve as a series of alternately funny time capsules, with plenty of medium-specific references that might appeal to audiences who grew up in the ’80s and early ’90s. Others will have to spend a little time doing their due diligence on Wikipedia.

The time travelerfrom 1984, starring Keir Dullea as a man who falls to earth and is found naked along the shores of Mykonos by American expat widow Andrea (Adrienne Barbeau). The newcomer soon names himself Glenn (as in astronaut John Glenn) and learns the ways of the world. It’s not surprising that a romance like the one in John Carpenter’s Starman quickly develops between Glenn and Andrea, while Glenn’s budding friendship with Andrea’s son, Tim (Jeremy Licht), is reminiscent of Steven Spielberg’s AND in its warm, hazy glow. There always seems to be something unearthly about Dullea’s presence and his participation in Stanley Kubrick’s 2001: A Space Odyssey only adds a certain weight to the film’s undeniably lo-fi sci-fi elements.

Perhaps taking a page from the works of Carl Jung, The time traveler makes explicit the Christian underpinnings that are kept subtextual in many UFO and alien stories. This connection is suggested early on when we see the number 1225-1 inscribed on Glenn’s flesh, though it strangely goes unnoticed by the characters. In a rather good-natured way, the film allows Glenn to find affinities with the crucified Christ, who, he says, “looks nice.” These sympathies are literally evident in the film’s surprise ending, in which Glenn’s true connection to Jesus is revealed before a Twilight Zone-like coda indicates why the film’s alternative title is The next.

The time traveler argues that our imperfections are the engine that drives human evolution, while the 1985 theory Sky high suggests that our foibles only make for rather forced comedy. Mastorakis’s later action comedies almost always revolve around a hapless bunch of lustful young men caught up in events beyond their control, but here in their larval stage we get a trio of idiotic exchange students who find themselves in the middle of a Cold War espionage operation while visiting Greece: handsome Bobby (Clayton Norcross), geeky Lester (Daniel Hirsch) and funnyman Mick (Frank Schultz), whose signature joke is an acceptable Rod Serling impersonation.

The MacGuffin sought by both sides of the chaos is a tape with a low-frequency tone that induces hallucinations. Mastorakis hilariously renders these visions as cheesy music videos that even MTV would never have aired in the early days, accompanied by some pretty awful pop songs, an element that continues throughout all of Mastorakis’ subsequent action comedies.

Sky high sets the template for the later films in this set: The action stakes are suitably low, the comedic material is scattered, and the production values ​​(particularly the locations) are modestly impressive. Above all, a thick impasto of shameless female nudity serves to fill in any holes in the narrative logic. And for those eager to dig up some social commentary, there’s a corrupt CIA agent (John Lawrence) who plays both sides for personal gain.

Terminal exposure1987’s The Man Who Caught The Murder of the Dead revolves around two friends named Lenny (Mark Hennessy) and Bruce (Scott King). Together, their names are an homage to Lenny Bruce, the king of “sick” stand-up comedy, though Mastorakis’ film lacks absolutely nothing remotely resembling Bruce’s best work. The plot involves amateur photographer Lenny accidentally snapping photos of a murder on Venice Beach, leading to a series of narrow escapes from various hitmen employed by the film’s Big Bad, Mr. Karrothers (John Vernon).

In one of Mastorakis’ more highbrow references, he stages the scene where Lenny looks at enlarged images to gain more information about the crime as a direct nod to Antonioni’s To blow upMastorakis may not exude Antonioni’s pervasive sense of existential alienation, but they do seem to share a fascination with mimes.

Since 1988, Hitch! focuses once again on two friends, Todd (Will Egan) and Bo (Steve Donmyer), aspiring thieves who break into the Beverly Hills mansion of movie mogul Julius Lazar (Dick Gautier) while he is away. At the same time, a secretarial job has planned a cattle market for actresses set to appear in Lazar’s latest masterpiece. So naturally, Todd continues to convincingly impersonate Lazar by donning one of his monogrammed bathrobes.

This is all just an excuse for Mastorakis, as he himself mentions in one of the interviews on this Blu-ray release, to find a lavish mansion to live in during the shoot and surround himself with dozens of young (and often unclothed) actresses. Hitch! is characterized by a very broad sense of humor (no pun intended), including some ethnic stereotypes that don’t work so well these days. There’s also a gay ninja named Brucie (Dan Speaker) who wanders around a lot, but when push comes to shove, at least he can kick some serious ass.

When you think of the title of 1989 Ninja Academy sounds very much like Police AcademyWell, there’s a reason for that. Instead of dealing with cops, this film is about a motley crew of social misfits who undergo some sort of rigorous training only to emerge as novice ninjas. Egan returns in this film as Josh, a trust fund baby who is forced to attend ninja school to become stronger. Other new recruits to the Topanga Canyon Ninjutsu Ryu include a klutz (Jack Freiburg), a gun fanatic who’s equal parts Rambo and Eastwood (Robert Factor), two self-proclaimed bimbos (Kathleen Stevens and Lisa Montgomery), and a mime artist (Jeff Robinson).

The naked truthfrom 1992, finds Mastorakis at his most referential. The opening credits use the blocky Monty Python font; the storyline is a direct crib of Some love it when it’s hot; and it ends with a long-winded and seemingly unmotivated pastiche of Casablanca with no less than three actors doing lame Bogart impressions. Along the way, Mastorakis goes all out with Zucker, Abrahams and Zucker, doubling down on bizarre stunt casting and supposedly crazy visual gags.

This time around, our not-so-dynamic duo are both Frank (Robert Caso and Kevin Schon), and they’re forced to don drag after mob hitmen take out a fed (M. Emmett Walsh) who just planted a ledger full of incriminating information in one of the Franks’ suitcases. Somehow, this also involves the ketchup magnate’s beauty pageant contestants, among whom the two Franks, now Ethel and Mirabelle, manage to find a hiding place as makeup artists.

The naked truth represents the apotheosis of Mastorakis’ obsession with transvestism, which also surfaces as a method of avoiding bodily harm in both Sky high And Hitch! But there is no moment in these films that equals the empathetic “Nobody’s perfect!” that closes the film. Some love it when it’s hotIf Hitch! was plagued by ill-conceived ethnic jokes, The naked truth is paralyzed by some truly horrible gay jokes. The naked truth is also typical of Mastorakis’ larger oeuvre, as its sum is often smaller than its often endearingly charming parts.

The Nico Mastorakis collection is now available.