Well, I was hoping Blind Melon would see my last post and announce that because of me they’re releasing their fourth studio album. I was pretty sure I’d find two of those cartoon money bags on my front porch, along with a note reading “Welcome to the big time, kid. You’re a professional writer now.” containing directions to a new job. That didn’t happen — yet — so, here I am with another review of a movie ten people have heard of.

I apologize if I missed anything. They updated WordPress again and all it did was break certain features. The reader and notification bell stopped working entirely on my preferred mobile browser and are still kind of glitchy on Chrome. I can’t tell for sure if my likes go through unless I’m at home on my laptop.

Now, I’ve joked before about being an “alcaholic” and weird movie addict, but it’s finally time to admit that I have a real problem. I’m addicted to Nick Millard movies. I know they’re killing me. I can’t stop. They bring me true joy. I wake up, I Millard. I go to sleep, I Millard.

If at first you don’t succeed, try, try again. I wasn’t having any luck finding Gunblast AKA Shotgun with Google, but knew it had to be out there. My luck changed when I switched search engines. Page 2 of the Yandex results returned a Vimeo upload. I also found The Terrorists on YouTube and have my eye on a few more of Millard’s pornos for my Sweatin’ to the Oldies series.

As I pressed play and shushed my family, two things jumped out at me. One, the quality of the upload is absolute garbage. The image is overexposed, making the light colors blindingly bright. This is no more apparent than in the first scene when a Cessna lands in an airfield and all we see is a nearly white screen. After a while, the audio comes unsynced too. The problem worsens as the movie goes on. What starts as a few-second delay turns into a thirty-or-more-second delay, leading to many instances where one person is shown talking and another is heard. There are visually choppy sections as well. Not your typical VHS tracking lines. Some kind of error.

Put simply, it’s a terrible viewing experience. Still, I have to give props to Hamilton Trash Cinema for sharing it with us at all 🙏 Man, the things I do for a fix. I’ll admit I had no idea what was going on the first time I watched this. I was able to get the gist with a subsequent viewing.

The second thing that jumped out at me is that Gunblast was shot on film. Even at 240p and with the many problems this version has, I can make out the film grain and visual noise. The opening credits are identical to Mac-10‘s, but longer, with more names, suggesting Gunblast was completed first and portions were reused for Mac-10. “Lloyd Allan” and Christina Cardan again get top billing. “Lloyd Allan” appears to have been a pseudonym Marland Proctor used for his less savory roles. Somewhere between the two movies, Millard decided it was cheaper/easier/faster to shoot on video.

Most of his works recycle music from Criminally Insane and Satan’s Black Wedding. This one boasts an original flamenco score by Anita Sheer. I want to like it. Sheer’s guitar playing is good, but her wailing vocals are a bit harsh on my ears. I wasn’t expecting to find any info on her. Lo and behold, she founded the Flamenco Society of San José, California. According to her bio on their website, she took lessons from Carlos Montoya, shared the stage with Bob Dylan, appeared on the Tonight Show, and cameoed in Coronet Blue. She arrived in the San Francisco Bay Area in 1981, meaning Gunblast was filmed no earlier than that. Some of Millard’s movies took a while to find distribution, making it difficult to date them. The Terrorists, for example, involves a plot to assassinate Jimmy Carter, but came out seven years after he left office!

Gunblast takes place over three months. It starts in August, skips September, and ends just before Halloween. Title cards break it up into five days. Ray Myles (under his full name, Ramon Milas) plays Carlos Dominguez, Governor of Tamaulipas, Mexico. He and his driver/bodyguard Geraldo await the invisible plane.

Its pilot walks up holding a box marked “California Flower”. “Buenos Días, General.” he says.

“Buenos Días.”

“More flowers for you. Very profitable flowers.”

The box contains Dominguez’s monthly shipment of heroin — five kilos, which he sells in the US for $500,000 and his buyers re-sell for ten times as much. It’s always the same amount, but in some scenes it takes up so much room under the seats that Dominguez has trouble getting comfortable. He transports it without fear of prosecution. His diplomatic immunity ensures he’s never stopped at the border. Geraldo later expresses concern that one day they will be caught.

Millard uses Dominguez to burn the US. “Even if [customs officials were to search the car] and found the heroin, you can be certain the judge would release us immediately. Even murderers are set free in the United States.”

A car is parked in a desert. Maria Schneider (Christina Cardan) is turned around in the driver’s seat. “Again, I warn you about Geraldo. He practices everyday for two hours with his gun.” This rigorous training consists of throwing his gun back and forth in his hands and shooting at Diet Coke bottles.

“Geraldo is already a dead man.” Albert Eskinazi snaps from the backseat. He smacks a magazine into a gun. “I don’t need any warnings about dead men.” He gets out and stands in the middle of a lonely highway with his gun drawn.

Can you spot the black polka dots on his shirt?

Geraldo slows to a stop. He gets out and meets Eskinazi. One side of the road is a desert. The other is a green hill. These are two different locations. You’re not fooling anyone, Millard!

“You give me the dope and then you go on your way.” Eskinazi orders. He just said Geraldo was a dead man. Is this a robbery or a homicide? Make up your mind.

Geraldo laughs disrespectfully. “This really is very funny.” He delivers some cringey, slanderous dialogue comparing Eskinazi to Wile E. Coyote. Next, he tells him he’s going to shoot off his ears and balls in that order, and does it. I’m disgusted at how easily Eskinazi is killed.

Maria makes a sound like “huh” and drives away without being seen.

Los Angeles. Marland Proctor steps off a bus. For the second time, he’s playing a convicted bank robber named Grant. There are cool tracking shots of him walking down the sidewalk past storefronts. These are some of the most cinematic shots I’ve seen from Millard. Angry motorists honk behind him as he keeps pace with his actor. Grant checks into a hotel. His shirt disappears. In his room, he picks at a can of Hormel beans and wieners. Then, he flips through a Playboy (the December, 1985 issue, safely placing this in 1986), smokes, falls asleep, flips through the Playboy some more, decides he’d rather see the real thing, and walks to a theatre where he watches clips of Uschi Digard licking her own boobs from Fancy Lady. He stands against a wall sipping a drink, just like the black actor does in Mac-10. I wish I knew that guy’s name.

“I wanted to play, play with my oversized breasts.”
We all do, Uschi.

When Grant gets back to his room, he finds Cardan sitting on his bed. He asks if she’s from the parole board. She tells him she’s not. She heard about him from a friend, whose brother served time with Grant in San Quentin.

“Yeah, I remember Garcia.” Grant nods. “I saved the little spic from a bunch of niggers who were gonna cut his throat.” This is one of those movies where none of the characters are good people, but some are better than others.

Maria cuts to the chase. She asks Grant if he’s interested in robbing Dominguez and splitting the money 50/50. Grant declines. He’s done taking risks. He says he made off with $27,000 from the bank he robbed and only spent $7,000, so even though he served eight years in prison, he’s going to come out ahead because he has a $3.75/hour night watchman job lined up. I’m not understanding how he comes out ahead. Was he allowed the keep the remaining $20,000? That was only one year’s income back then. What am I missing?

“I know this man’s routine. Believe me, nothing can go wrong.” the femme fatale argues. We literally just watched a man die, you lying bitch!

“Tell you what I do want.” Grant says suggestively.

Maria smiles and sees herself out.

Proctor shows some conviction here. I’m really starting to like him as an actor. It’s a shame he died so young. A few days later, Grant is passed over for the job. “It’s alright. I understand.” he says to no one. This time, when he gets home he finds Maria stripped down to her underwear. Grant eagerly tries out the boob licking techniques he learned at the movies. While lying together, Grant has a change of heart and takes Maria up on her offer. You’re supposed to make better decisions after sex 🤦‍♂️ That’s why they call it post-nut clarity. Will Grant ever cum to his senses?

What a horrible double standard this is, by the way. If a man broke into a woman’s home for surprise sex, he’d be gang-beaten by her neighbors, arrested, convicted, and slapped with a restraining order. Grant leaves the hotel and walks downtown to Maria’s apartment. She invites him in. The way this was edited makes me laugh. How is she home? I imagine her dashing through an underground tunnel to beat him there. I know it’s supposed to be the next day or whatever, but the movie doesn’t say that.

Maria explains how she was Dominguez’s mistress until being discarded for a younger woman named Silvia who exists only as archival footage. I can’t figure out where she’s from. However, I did locate the source of the boob-on-ball footage in Mac-10 and Dracula in Vegas. It’s Wendy’s Naughty Night (1972). Grant sees what’s going on now. Maria is robbing Dominguez as payback. Maria gets really defensive. She insists it’s not like that and tells Grant to leave.

That’s exactly what’s happening! Don’t trust her, Grant! I’d call this gaslighting, but I hate that word because young people use it for everything now. Oh, you don’t agree with me? Gaslighting! Grant apologizes. He’s under vagnosis. At one point, he asks Maria if she’s ever broken a law. She answers no. Untrue. This is conspiracy to commit armed robbery.

While Dominguez tells Silvia, i.e. footage of a woman in heavy blue eye shadow applying fake lashes, to hurry up for their meeting with the president of Mexico, Grant buys a Winchester shotgun from a pawn shop.

Elsewhere, Millard confronts Geraldo in some kind of abandoned bar. “Hey, mayn, you fucked my woman last night. I’m going to kill you.” he says in a half-assed Mexican accent. Everyone in this movie is so direct. No beating around the bush, except in the sex scenes.

“I fucked your sister last week and the week before that I fucked your mother.” Geraldo laughs.

The men blast their guns because this is Gunblast! Millard hits the dirt. Geraldo returns to his drink. That’s how you handle a motherfucker. He might as well piss in Millard’s mouth, cos that shit was humiliating.

Geraldo steps through a doorway. “The Governor General has left for Mexico city and he’s left me in charge of everything at the ranch while he’s gone. Everything.” he announces to footage of Silvia feeling herself up on a bed. Knowing Geraldo, he already watched Dominguez’s sister and mother do likewise.

“Then I must do everything you order me to do.” Millard’s wife replies on Silvia’s behalf. Does the topless woman look in Geraldo’s direction, or in any way acknowledge him? Do they interact physically? No! She’s not real.

After about twenty minutes, the movie slows down considerably. Grant and Maria drive South, stay at various hotels, formulate a plan on the fly, and have sex two more times. There’s a lot of driving and talking. The movie is one of Millard’s longest at roughly sixty-five minutes. It could have been half that. It’s missing the ridiculous dialogue of Millard’s hardcore pornos, absurdity of his shot-on-video titles, and emotional impact of Alcatraz Breakout. Overall, it’s an ok if boring road movie with flashes of brilliance. I’d be happy to reappraise it and update my screenshots if anyone knows where to watch a higher quality version. Who knows, there may be a Blu-ray sooner rather than later. Millard’s daughter Valerie told me as soon as she gets settled into her new home in Florida, she’s going to start taking steps to get all his movies back in circulation and may answer a few questions for me.

The ending is anticlimactic. Grant ambushes the heroin dealers on a desert highway in exactly the same manner Eskinazi did. He quickly loses control of the situation. This leads to a shootout between Grant and Geraldo where they take turns popping out from behind cover to fire on each other until Grant is hit in the shoulder. This forces Maria to get involved. She slowly drives toward Geraldo. He dives out of the way, allowing Grant to gain the upper hand once again. He and Maria escape with a bag full of money, effectively signing their death warrants by leaving Geraldo alive. Surely Dominguez knows Maria’s address and the addresses of her relatives. Who will survive? Just when you think it’s going to wrap up without showing Nick Millard’s house, Geraldo bursts through the front door.

Throwback to When Blind Melon Teased an Album, Then Promptly Vanished

A high school English teacher of mine told a story in class one time about how he saved the drummer of Blind Melon’s life. He was down in New Orleans, providing assistance for the victims of Hurricane Katrina, staying at the same hotel as percussionist Glen Graham. Wherever they were had a dining hall, because my teacher said he watched in morbid amusement as Graham and his girlfriend consumed an entire bottle of Absinthe over dinner that night. Later, when Graham tried the stairs, he stopped halfway up and slowly began falling backward. My teacher swooped in, catching him just before his skull cracked open like a ripe honeydew against the exposed concrete floor. If my teacher hadn’t been there, the Big Easy would have claimed its second member of the band, spurring talk of a Blind Melon curse.

The next day, Graham asked him “You the one that caught me?”


“Mmm. Thanks.”

Top middle: Glen Graham
Credit: Blind Melon/Facebook

My teacher concluded his story by playing “No Rain”. The song was familiar. I’d always liked it, just never knew the title or who did it before. I went home, looked up some more of the band’s stuff, and was hooked. From that day forward, I was a huge Blind Melon fan. This was right around the time they reformed with Travis Warren (pictured above, top left) on vokes. The second incarnation of Blind Melon released one album, disbanded the same year, got back together, toured sporadically, then quietly faded back into obscurity.

To this day, I love them. If I had to pick one favorite band, it’s Blind Melon. Though their albums are few and far between, what they do put out is absolute gold. I don’t skip any tracks. The only thing most people know them for is the tapdancing bee girl, who was reportedly a brat, and that makes me sad. They have an incredible catalogue.

Imagine my excitement when the gracefully aging rockers announced they were starting work on a new album way back in 2018, their first since 2008’s For My Friends, and second without larger-than-life lead singer Shannon Hoon. Three of the four surviving members were on board, with Travis Warren returning and Nathan Towne filling in for Brad Smith.

From September, 2019 to mid-2020, the quintet cranked out four promising singles. “In the Very Best Way” is still my favorite of the batch. It’s catchy as Hell, has that classic guitar sound, and breaks from the typical verse-chorus-verse-chorus-bridge-chorus structure. You can really hear Graham beating the shit out of the drums. That man has a new lease on life!

“The plan was to come out to Joshua Tree and all stay here for a couple weeks and finish this record…” de facto spokesperson Thorn explained in a Facebook Live video during the pandemic. “And then, like everybody, everybody’s plans changed. So, we’re gonna finish this record and we’re gonna do it remotely. And it’s working out for us, you know? We want to get some music to you guys.”

Two years ago this past Friday, Guitar World published an article titled “Blind Melon: “We’re releasing 10-12 singles instead of an album all at once – we’d rather remind people we exist every couple of months than every 2 years”.

Well, here we are.

Guitarist Rogers “With an S” Stevens expanded, saying “My thinking is you’re better off reminding people you still exist every couple of months than reminding them once every two years with a media blitz… when there are 10-12 [songs], we’re going to press vinyl and sell it to whoever wants it.”

The next month, they dropped two versions of “Strikes Back”, a title suggesting they wanted to make an impression. And that was it. There haven’t been any further developments. We’re approaching seven-hundred days of radio silence. I wonder what the holdup is. It’s not like the well has run dry. They’ve still got that spark and they sounded rejuvenated. Thorn claimed to have written more songs at his new studio in Joshua Tree than during the rest of his career. Warren has two solo albums and countless singles in the can since 2019. Three additional Melon titles I remember being tossed around were “Ramblin”, “Matter to You”, and something to the effect of “Start Breaking My Heart”. Where are those?

If we’re not getting new material, how ’bout some old? I’d love to hear cleaned up, remastered versions of “Rebirth”, “What You Lost”, “Soul One (electric)”, “Tickled Pink”, “Ever Had the Feeling”, “Letters From a Porcupine (full band)”, “Wooh Dog”, “No Bidness”, “Frosting a Cake”, “Brittle Little Baby”, “Untitled in C”, “No Lyrics”, “I Am a Dreamer”, the rendition of “No Rain” where the Velvet Underground is great, and anything else that’s just sitting in a vault.

Credit: The Simpsons, Disney

Us melonheads would have starved to death a long time ago if it weren’t for the bootlegs the band seems to encourage and various projects the members were involved in over the years. In the late 90s, Stevens moved to New York and formed Extra Virgin with Rene Lopez, who previously auditioned to replace Hoon. They released one album, Twelve Stories High. Spacehog frontman Royston Langdon joined them and they became The Tender Trio. In the Meantime (see what I’ve done?), Thorn and Smith founded Unified Theory with Dave Krusen of Pearl Jam’s Ten and the angelic Chris Shinn. They put out one self-titled album during their brief existence and a second years later. After Unified Theory dissolved, Shinn fronted Everything is Energy while Thorn and Smith played in Halo Complex. Smith also has a pair of solo albums under the name Abandon Jalopy. I recommend all this stuff.

Blind Melon, please come back! It would be the perfect way to kick off 2023. And Graham, for God’s sake, no more recreations of “St. Andrew’s Fall”. Any fans care to discuss the finer points of this underrated band? Leave a comment below.

Mac and Me

It’s crazy to think just a few months ago I was drifting through life unaware that Nick Millard’s high-octane shoot-’em-up Mac-10 (1986) had been loosed on the world. Apparently, it received a VHS release in Denmark and nobody notified my mom so that she could notify me once I came into existence. An IMDb page was created sometime in the past few years and a cover scan was uploaded there. The text on the back roughly translates as follows:

The Las Vegas Mafia and the man with the deadly Mac-10 machine gun – a former policeman with his back against the wall, fighting for his life and his future in this fast-paced action film.

What clued me in to all this was Zachary Keane’s recent — and might I add awesome — YouTube review, which he linked on the late filmmaker’s Facebook page. In the video, he mentions buying his copy from DVD Lady, a bootleg site offering tons of obscure stuff. I’m both astonished and thankful their operation hasn’t been shut down. I immediately brought up the site. However, I couldn’t find Mac-10 anywhere. Thinking their search function was broken, I contacted them. They told me they don’t sell it. Confused, I asked Keane if maybe he was misremembering where he got it. He replied with a link to the site’s listing for Gunblast, another Millard movie.

“It’s a mistake on their part.” he expanded. “I’m led to believe that people think Mac-10 is an alternate title for Gunblast. So they have Mac-10 labeled as Gunblast, but it’s Mac-10.” Gunblast came out the same year, features the same actors, and likely contains footage also present in Mac-10, so I understand the confusion.

I thanked Keane and was back on my way. I don’t normally shop the black market, but if ever there was a reason to reconsider that policy, it’s a long-thought-unreleased Nick Millard movie. I chose to have my order delivered digitally because shipping was $6 and said it could take up to 45 days. I was emailed a map of the Himalayas with a red X on it. I hired a man to investigate what it meant, but he checked into a healthcare facility called Shady Palms Clinic and never checked out. I knew what had to be done. I called in sick to work for the next month and flew to Nepal. For 21 days and nights, I journeyed by foot through treacherous mountain terrain in subzero temps until reaching the X, a remote Buddhist monastery. Once I regained my health, I was shown the last remaining VHS copy of Mac-10, encased in glass. While the monks were away, I switched their sacred artifact with a copy of Rock-A-Doodle and snuck out the back. From there, I smuggled it into India, then the US, by inserting it into my anus.

I’m here to tell you the trouble was worth it. Compared to, say, Death Nurse, Mac-10 has an ambitious albeit disjointed plot, massive star-studded cast, wide range of locations, decent action, and lots of nudity, plus all the brain-stomping, no-budget madness you could hope for.

Before we get into it, a word of caution. When ordering from sketchy sites such as DVD Lady, I strongly advise you to use prepaid gift cards. Those places may get your physical and virtual addresses, but at least your bank account will be safe — that is, unless the Mac-10 Maniac rolls through your town.

The movie starts with a montage of Sin City, similar to the ones in The Cemetery Sisters and with the same music. The opening credits list two actors — Lloyd Allan and Christina Cardan. We’re now in a rolling pasture. Hundreds of gunshots ring out, deafening cows. The suicidal inmate from Alcatraz Breakout fires the title weapon for a full thirty seconds at nothing in particular. There are no muzzle flashes. However, there are sound effects. After he runs out of ammo, he does a prolonged crackhead shuffle.

The music resumes. Ray Myles is sorting stacks of hundred-dollar bills. His character, Marco Rondetti, is a mobster in charge of the fictional Sho’tel casino. He skims millions in cash from the count room and has it deposited into Swiss bank accounts. An airplane parks at a boarding bridge. Rondetti’s runner, Sam, exits. He walks through the airport and gets in the passenger seat of a car. The driver tells him he’s doing another run. Rondetti hands Sam a briefcase containing $5 million at the casino. Sam walks back to the car.

The man from the pasture, later identified as “Roy”, grabs his Mac-10. “It’s party time.” he grins. He steps out of a wood panel Station Wagon and blows Sam away, right there in the parking lot.

Sam’s partner returns fire from behind his car door, but his pistol is no match; he’s greatly outgunned. Roy spins around to one knee and shakes the prop weapon at him, inflicting such an extreme case of motion sickness he dies. Roy grabs the briefcase. He calmly strolls off into the distance, abandoning his vehicle.

Maniac with a black Mac-10
Bout to throw this mark-ass nigga back in
What’s crackin? Your motherfucking head
From the impact and some hot lead
—Ruste Juxx, “Body the Beat”

An older gentleman is eating in a corner of Millard’s home disguised as a restaurant. He looks familiar. Millard himself brings a phone to the table and tells the man in Spanish that he has an important call.

“Sam’s dead.” Rondetti reports. “So is Joe Glaze.”

“What about da shipment?” his boss questions.

“The shipment is gone.”

“Hey! You get somebody on it right now.”

Ex-police lieutenant Winchester (Marland Proctor) walks by a bar. He tries two unmarked doors that clearly aren’t entrances. When they don’t open, he takes out a bottle of whiskey. I reckon his boss never asked for his badge as it’s pinned to his uniform, also unreturned. A car pulls up beside him. Rondetti lowers the window and offers Winchester $25,000 to recover the stolen briefcase. He sweetens the deal by saying he can pull a few strings to get him reinstated. Winchester refuses. Rondetti tells him to come by his office if he changes his mind.

Winchester may be a drunken mess, but he’s still respected for apprehending the city’s last maniac, an arsonist who set fire to a pair of casinos. Unfortunately for Winchester, the methods by which he obtained his confession were deemed unlawful and he was kicked off the force. Shit, coercion is a warmup in 2023. Cops kill an average of three people a day and the worst punishments they ever seem to receive are paid vacations. It used to be a cliché that taking lives traumatized cops. Now, it’s Tuesday for them.

A bodyguard flips through a magazine while a couple makes love on a bed. The couple was inserted from a 70s film I haven’t identified yet, the same one from the porn shoot in Dracula in Vegas. The man swirls his tongue around the woman’s nipples. She unzips a ball from his leather underwear and drags a breast across it. S E N S U A L I T Y.

Roy lets himself in the front door. He sneaks upstairs with his Mac-10 in hand. The bodyguard pops out of a room. Roy guns him down. Someone yells “Hey!” from another room, to make it seem like the couple is real. Roy unloads in their direction. The thud of an unzipped testicle hitting the floor signals their deaths.

Winchester drives to a hotel and calls Rondetti from the front desk. Rondetti tells him to come up. He offers some lame explanation for why his office is a cheap hotel room and gives Winchester the info he needs to get started on the case. He does this while lying down because he has a migraine. Winchester theorizes that an inside man is responsible. His plan is to flush out the killer with an even bigger bag, using himself as bait.

Next, our one true king, Albert Eskinazi, is introduced as Robert Alan Arthur, controller of the casino. From what I’m seeing, “controller” is a fancy title for “accountant”. Arthur rides around listening to a news bulletin read by Millard’s wife informing us that one of the latest victims was the son of the vice president of the establishment.

In a shocking turn of events, we’re treated to original footage of a blonde (Christina Cardan, I presume) hanging out, quite literally, on a couch with her fake tatters exposed. She does an erotic, three-minute striptease for someone sitting offscreen, and has an entire conversation with them we can’t hear. This alone must have cost Millard fifty bucks! No expenses were spared!

Meanwhile, Winchester enlists the help of his Native American friend, Chocktaw (played by Millard), who he finds discharging his handgun into the wilderness, just like Roy. Chocktaw is always up for a challenge, and offers to help however he can. Talk about whitewashing. This casting choice would go over so poorly today. I love it. At least he’s not wearing a headdress or doing an offensive accent.

After that, Arthur drops in on Roy. Here, it’s explained that Roy works for Arthur. He’s indebted to him for some reason and intercepts the shipments so Arthur can buy the Sho’tel. All he asks in return is the chance to kill people. And hookers.

“Did you like that English girl I got for you last night?” Arthur asks.

“I sure did. She had tits so big I put one in my mouth and one in my ear at the same time.” That wouldn’t require very big tits. Mouths and ears are only a few inches apart. Also, how did he fit a whole breast in his ear?

Credit: Family Guy/Fox

Eskinazi has the personality of a health inspector. He hasn’t been very good in any movie I’ve seen him in, but here he’s just done with this shit. Is this him playing an emotionless villain, or is this how he is in real life? Why does he hate existence so much? Wrestlers who command attention, your Stone Colds, your Rocks, are said to exude charisma. Eskinazi absorbs it. Like a psychic vampire, he saps the lifeforce of everybody onscreen and watching at home. Still, there’s something about him I respect.

Later, Arthur sees Roy praying to his Mac-10 through an open window. Roy is startled by his boss’ knocking. He blows out a ceremonial candle and answers the door with a cover story that would embarrass most people: “Sorry to keep you waiting, Mr. Arthur, I was on the toilet!”

Winchester asks the mute, blonde hooker (his on-again off-again girlfriend, whose name might be Lucy) to have her fellow hookers report any drunk clients bragging about committing mass murder. Lucy begs Winchester to give up his dangerous lifestyle. She says she’s earned enough money to support them both and wants to settle down in Paris. Winchester tells her to keep that dream alive a bit longer. It’s not about money for him. It’s about the glory. And this is his one shot at redemption.

Eventually, Winchester comes to the brilliant conclusion that Roy will have to replace all the ammo he uses. He alerts the gun shops in town. Wouldn’t the actual police have already done that? One of the owners he talks to is Millard in his third role. Can Winchester and Chocktaw bring an end to Roy’s onslaught?

A title card transports us to San Francisco. Jake Cole (the detective from Butcher Knife) walks into an adult theatre and watches clips of Uschi Digard making out with a woman taken from Dr. Christina of Sweden, one of Millard’s hardcore pornos. This goes on for more than four minutes. I think the clips are supposed to be a live sex show. Cole leans against a wall sipping a drink. The camera zooms into his ear. I know what he’s thinking. How he can fit Digard’s slammin’ naturals in there.

On his way out, he’s stopped by the son of an old friend. The son asks him to teach him “the switch”, in this context meaning how to use loaded dice at Craps tables. Cole is firmly against this. “No!” he shouts. His reaction is on par with answering whether he wants pasta for dinner. He attempts to dissuade the son by showing him his pinky, which he claims hasn’t worked right since Rondetti’s men caught him cheating and bent it backward. Sounds like a rather lenient punishment to me. The son says he’s going to Vegas regardless. Cole agrees to teach him because he doesn’t want him getting hurt.

Aside from the word “Rondetti”, this subplot has nothing to do with the main story. Nothing. I’m picturing Nick Millard as a young boy connecting pieces of string with Scotch tape, oblivious to the fact that unless he ties them together, it all falls apart. Mac-10!

Cole and his protégé arrive in Las Vegas. Cole finally gives him some worthwhile advice: act like a spoiled rich kid, throw money around, tip generously, and lose at first. Will the team pull it off? The Craps scene was shot in Millard’s living room. You can tell by the fabulous gold tile wallpaper. I’m babysitting two dogs right now on top of my own, so I know what it’s like to have craps in my living room. The croupier was Millard’s neighbor Larry and the older lady was his mother, Frances.

A highlight of the movie for me is another unrelated scene. Two shotgun-toting thugs pay a visit to Chocktaw. One is played by Millard’s nephew Royal. He has a torn piece of fabric tied around a pant leg, so you you know he’s a tough customer. “Stinger is reeeal pissed off at you…” Royal drawls with a mouthful of chewing tobacco. “He knows you fucked Susan.” His eyes are all the way closed in some shots from the sun.

“Look, studs, I’m only human and Susan is damn good looking.” Chocktaw confesses. “This isn’t worth any bloodshed. I bet you fucked her yourself.”

“That’s different. Stinger doesn’t mind if I fuck Susan. I’m his best friend.” Royal counters.

“Well, let’s all go up to the house, sit down, and have a drink of whiskey and be best friends.” Chocktaw suggests sarcastically.

“I don’t want no goddamn halfbreed leaving his mess in my woman.” Stinger proclaims. He fires the first shot and misses. The kickback sends him staggering.

Chocktaw empties his chamber. These weapons look real. Stinger falls to the ground with two entry wounds.

“You shouldn’t have killed Stinger.” Royal says, displeased.

“He was trying to kill me.” Chocktaw insists with the energy of a kid whining to his mom that his brother started it.

Royal lets off a shot, missing too. Chocktaw grabs a knife from his moccasin and throws it into his adversary’s gut. Royal stumbles around for a moment before succumbing to his injury.

I’m dying at how Millard gave himself the most badass material and managed to come out a geek. Chocktaw vanquishes two men at once, after bedding their girl, but owes his survival to dumb luck, not skill. His attackers beat him to the draw, they just happen to be lousy shots. He doesn’t even try to evade their barrage, just stands there hoping for the best. His accuracy is only slightly better than theirs — 33%. Keep in mind that Millard had total control of all stages of production. He chose to write, direct, and edit the scene this way. I guess he didn’t want to upstage his co-stars too badly.

If this sounds like a vibe or even a whole-ass mood and you don’t have twelve bucks to spend in this economy, I’ll email the movie to you. I watched it while eating Havarti cheese, an exclusive right of Denmark. I give the experience my highest recommendation, 5 boobs on balls and/or in ears out of 5.