Dead End Drive-In: Now Showing – Rock & Roll Frankenstein
Written by Gaz E
Sunday, 28 October 2012 02:33
Rock & Roll Frankenstein (1999 R&R Productions)
“Badass underground filmmaking at its best – a must see!” How could I have let this neo-classic movie gather dust on my straining DVD shelves for several years after snapping up a Region 1 disc of its fine self at a nerdfest a long time ago…in a galaxy far, far away?
Stumbling across Rock & Roll Frankenstein a couple of weeks ago caused me to change my plans for this special Halloween-themed Dead End Drive-In: the other film that was pencilled in will eventually get covered – have no fear – but I just couldn’t resist the trashy charms of this lumbering gutter comedy-horror.
Made by Brian O’Hara – who had worked in some form or another on genre product like Def By Temptation, Spookies and the Tales from the Darkside television show – Rock & Roll Frankenstein tells the ridiculous tale of foul-mouthed music agent Bernie Stein who, after getting stung by an artist one time too many, convinces his scientifically-minded, if a little troubled, nephew Frankie (get it?!) to help him create the ultimate rock star who he can manipulate into millions of dollar signs.
Frankie, as we quickly discover, has been kicked out of his job at the coroner’s office, the reason becoming clear when we see him touching himself while looking at autopsy photographs, so has resorted to working in his basement laboratory. He has concocted a ‘rejuvenating’ fluid – shocking blue not green, Re-Animator fans! – for, you’d imagine, his own dastardly sexual gratification. Uncle Bernie has other ideas though…
The money-hungry agent recruits stoner roadie Iggy to put together a crack team of wonky-eyed losers whose aim it is to acquire the body parts of the finest rock stars they can lay their lazy hands on. “This is worse than working the Black Sabbath reunion,” one of Iggy’s loaded road crew mates mumbles when they turn up at the grave of Jimi Hendrix, shovels in hand. “I’m a roadie, not a ghoulie.”
After testing his rejuvenating juice on a severed cow’s head, watched by the worst movie puppet you will ever see, a rat named Mr Peepers, Frankie gets to work on Hendrix’s hands, bringing them back to life with ease. Pumped up on dead skin, Iggy and crew go on their very own graveyard tour, bringing back parts of Buddy Holly, Keith Moon, Sid Vicious and, most impressively, the head of Elvis Presley. There is only one part missing…
Uncle Bernie wants the most rock ‘n’ roll cock ever on his baby. He plans on sending Iggy to Paris to pick off Jim Morrison’s schlong but, as Frankie explains, he knows an aged doctor who has the finest collection of under the counter celebrity dicks in the world, Jim’s included.
Iggy’s weed squad get into the top secret dick vault with ease – it was left unlocked! – and, after marvelling at the toilet parts of everyone from Jeffrey Dahmer to Lassie, grab a hold of the Lizard King’s appendage. But wait, a quick bong/smoke alarm/hydrochloric acid incident later and Jim’s dong is long gone. They grab a replacement quickly and get out of Dick Dodge. The name on the jar the replacement is housed in? Someone called ‘Liberace’…
The Monster, immediately nicknamed ‘King’, just won’t shock back to life in Frankie’s lab, however. Bernie suggests a shock to the balls and, lo(w blow) and behold, he awakens with a timely “Thankyooverrrmucch.”
King, though, doesn’t appear to have brought any kind of musical talent back with him; the dude can’t even hold a guitar. He’s taken out shopping, bought a Vegas Elvis jumpsuit to try to kick start his memory and, allowed a selection of gerbils…..just because. Alone in his room, King tries to ram one of the furry fuckers up his arse (actually, Sid’s arse), eventually settling on biting the head off the beast in gloriously OTT blood spurting fashion. Things are not going as planned with this King of Rock ‘n’ Roll.
The musical talent begins to reappear and King, backed by his band, The Unnatural Urges, start gigging. King, looking strangely like RFTC’s John ‘Speedo’ Reis, is quickly climbing up the ladder to superstardom…again. Yes, that quick. Something just doesn’t feel right though…something in the trouser department.
Snubbing wanton groupies, actually gutting one when she refuses the request for back door banging, it appears that Liberace’s cock is the overriding body part in this stitched together smorgasbord o’ rock. The dick starts talking, and growing, and talking some more. Eventually, the peepee is around two foot long and throbbing green. King goes to confession but, after finding out that all priests do is jerk off to your guilty pleasures, becomes a religious bugger by way of a crucifix and an anus of the cloth. A male escort fares little better – death the climax of that coming together.
I don’t want to spoil the ending of this flick – I want you to seek it out, I want you to live with, and love, it. Needless to say, a selection of heart-stabbing, head-crushing, penis-tearing moments bring this movie off in a heaving heap of sweat, blood and sequins.
Long Dead Rock ‘n’ Roll!!!
To pick up your copy of ‘Rock’n’Roll Frankenstein [DVD] [Region 1] [US Import] [NTSC]’ – CLICK HERE
