When I was eleven or twelve, there were three titles at my local video store that always caught my eye. Each of the boxes depicted a ferocious-looking Indian who looked as though he could've won the Battle of Little Bighorn all by himself and then warpathed his way to Washington, D.C. and personally buried a hatchet in Ulysses S. Grant's skull, but what I really liked was how these images shattered all the Native American stereotypes. In case you thought the trilogy's Native protagonist might wage war on whitey using a tomahawk or a bow and arrow, the Thunder Warrior cover image puts any such notion to rest in a hurry by arming Thunder with a fucking cannon and fitting him with a bandolier packed with 20 mm anti-tank cartridges. Lest you assume that any Native character, even a modern one, would ride around on a horse, Thunder Warrior III's cover art makes it clear that this Indian not only travels by motorcycle; he jumps that motherfucker through explosions! Does Thunder wear moccasins and warpaint? Okay, sure. Some traditions are worth preserving. The bow and arrow might be outmoded as a combat weapon, but Thunder's attire is a hell of a lot more badass-looking than a Stetson and a pair of shitkickers. If John Wayne encountered this Comanche, he'd lemonade his Levi's and leave Debbie to be impregnated with Thunder Jr.
I'm going to go ahead and confess that I don't recall all that much about the Thunder Warrior films. I saw them once apiece when I was about thirteen years old (over twenty years ago), and my recollection of them has dimmed substantially over the years, so parts of the following description may be erroneous, embellished, or entirely fabricated, but that's all right because its the essence of the films that I'm trying to convey here. I could probably look up most of the details and provide you with a reasonably accurate scene-by-scene examination of the trilogy, but that wouldn't be any fun for you or for me, and it would spoil the films for first-time viewers when and if they were ever able to get hold of copies. Instead, I plan to present what little I recall of the trilogy and to fill out the plot with what I assume happened or with made-up nonsense. That way, these masterpieces won't be ruined for those who haven't seen them and first-time viewing experiences will be enhanced by the discovery that Thunder's exploits are even more jaw-droppingly kick-ass than I'd led everyone to expect. So keep your scalping knives sheathed, Thunder Warrior fanatics. I'm doing my best, and just so you'll be satisfied that I haven't intentionally misrepresented the films in any way, I'll indicate details that I clearly recall from the movies by underlining them. Anything that isn't underlined is a missing piece that I've attempted to fill in with the help of my vast mental catalog of exploitation cinema. So, without further ado, let's get to the films...
Thunder is played by Mark Gregory. Gregory is Italian, but just as Swedes, Austrians, and Russians are indistinguishable to Hollywood producers, so too are Native Americans, Mexicans, and southern Europeans. Hell, John Ford cast a fucking blue-eyed German as the Comanche chief in The Searchers. Anyway, while I'm sure that Michael Horse would've bitched about this particular casting decision, Gregory really was right for the part.
I don't really recall where Thunder and his people lived, but based on what I recollect of the landscape it was somewhere in the southwestern United States. I'm going to say it was Arizona, because then I can pretend that Bo Svenson's character was modeled after Joe Arpaio (never mind that the films were made before Arpaio was ever elected). Svenson plays a corrupt and bigoted sheriff who engages Thunder in ongoing war over the course of the three-film series (or maybe Svenson is only in two of the films -- not important). Thunder just wants to live in peace with his family. He's not trying to get rich. He doesn't cause trouble. He's not even a social activist like I've become. Still, the white man just won't leave him alone. They soon learn, though, that a man can only be pushed so far, and once Thunder is nudged over the edge he doesn't stop until every Caucasian-featured male in the vicinity has gone the way of the buffalo, and in violent fashion.
The first Thunder Warrior movie: Thunder and his family have been enjoying a quiet and carefree existence in a sparsely populated region of the American Southwest. They live in a modest house built by Thunder's grandfather some years before (I'll bet you thought they'd have Thunder and his people living in tipis). The house is located in a wooded area and nothing but nature can be seen in any direction. Other Native Americans inhabit these woods. Their dwellings are close enough together to maintain neighborly spirit and a sense of community, but they're far enough apart that the illusion of isolation can be achieved when desired. Thunder routinely strolls though this forest, his footsteps sometimes paced to match the steady ring of an ax as one of his Native friends fells a tree to be used as firewood or building material. Absent this sound, nothing can be heard but birdsong and the occasional rustle of leaves as an animal moves through the woods. Most of his time is spent with his family, but though Thunder cherishes nothing more than his wife and children, one of his greatest passions is poetry and his daily amble provides him with the silence and solitude necessary to compose his best verse.
One day during his walk, Thunder is struggling with his latest poem
(As I wandr'd 'mongst the trees
I happn'd 'pon a fearsome bear
He smelt my presence on the breeze
And turn'd on me his baleful glare
A terr'ble roar formed in his throat
And blast'd out from 'tween his jaws
A bristle 'ppeared upon his coat
And blood dripped from his pow'rful.........um.........draws..........saws............balls)
when suddenly a horrible sound, a jarring mechanical din, shatters his concentration. A second, similar noise joins the first and then, after a fit of cacophonous coughing, the auditory assault is augmented by a third. Thunder covers his ears, contorts his face in pain, and cries, "WHAT THE FUCK IS THAT?!!"
As the racket continues, Thunder takes his hands from his ears and begins running through the forest toward its source. When he arrives at his people's sacred ancestral burial ground, he finds men with chainsaws cutting down every tree in sight. He manages to jump aside just in time to avoid being crushed by a large pine.
"Who's in charge here?" he bellows. The roar of chainsaws stops and the men look over.
The foreman, played by M. Emmet Walsh (note that the name is not underlined), saunters over.
"I'm Ed Rawlins. What can I do for ya, Chief?"
"My name's not Chief. It's Thunder."
Rawlins snorts, and the workers snicker.
"Sorry 'bout that, ...Thunder." Guffaws from the workers.
"What are you doing here?"
"We're cuttin' down some trees, what the hell does it look like?"
"But you can't cut down these trees. This is my people's ancient burial ground! You'll disturb their spirits!"
One of the workers finds this so funny that he spews a fresh mouthful of beer all over the side of Thunder's face.
"Look, Geronimo, we're building a housing development here. If you don't like it you can march your ass back over the land bridge."
"This is Indian land!"
"The only land you injuns get is the land we give you, and you only get to keep it until we find a better use for it."
"I'm taking this to the sheriff!"
"You do that, Sitting Bull."
"More like Shitting Bull," quips the beer-spewer, Budweiser still dripping from his nose.
"Or Bullshitting!" howls his buddy.
"You won't get away with this," Thunder warns, and then he sprints home through the forest, his moccasins making no sound as he leaps deadfalls and nimbly sidesteps a startled deer.
A few minutes later, the clatter of the chainsaws is drowned out by the roar of a motorcycle engine (okay, so the tranquility of the forest is interrupted every once in a while by someone other than a white dude, but Thunder only uses his bike when there's an emergency). Thunder's wife comes out of the house to see what's going on and is greeted with a faceful of dirt kicked up by the bike's rear tire as Thunder speeds away.
Cut to a wide-angle shot of the Grand Canyon: majestic, spectacular, awe-inspiring. A distant hum grows in volume until it becomes a deafening whine. A motorcycle bursts into view, a determined-looking figure hunched down low over its handlebars. A mound of dirt launches bike and rider into the air. Thunder is jumping the Grand FUCKING Canyon!!! Mid-jump, the figure extends his arm and an eagle that happens to be flying by alights on his wrist. He whispers something to the bird and then plucks one of its feathers and sticks it in the elastic of his headband. "Be well, my avian brother," he says gently, and the eagle takes flight and continues toward its destination. The rider lands roughly but maintains his balance with ease and, silhouetted by the sun, he moves away into the desert.
At the sheriff's office, Thunder tells Bo Svenson about the construction crew's plans to build a housing development atop the remains of his ancestors. Svenson is unsympathetic:
"You get your ass the hell out of my office or you're going to be spending the night in a cell."
Thunder is incredulous, but it's clear Svenson isn't on his side, so he stands and moves toward the exit. As he's pushing open the door, Svenson calls, "Hey, injun!"
Thunder turns.
"If I hear that you've been hassling those construction workers we're going to have us another Wounded Knee."
Diplomacy doesn't seem to be doing the trick, but Thunder is a man who only uses violence as a last resort. He decides to make one last attempt to appeal to Rawlins's better nature, but when he returns to the burial ground the next morning he finds one of the construction workers urinating on his grandfather's grave.
"What are you doing?!" he cries.
"I'm takin' a leak, what the hell does it look like?"
"That's my grandfather's grave!"
"That's what it is to you. To us it's a toilet. See?" He points to the stone that has been used to mark Stormcloud's resting place since his death ten years before. Taped to the stone is a sign reading "TOYLIT." Flies buzz around a hole that has been dug beneath it.
What happens next is a little too gruesome to recount here, but perhaps it will suffice to say that the next (and last) piss this construction worker takes involves sulfuric acid being forced through his urethra, and that this is one of the least unpleasant of his final experiences.
After that, ACTION SCENES GALORE!!!
VIOLENCE!!!
MAYHEM!!!
Did he just yank that guy's testicles out through his mouth? Jesus H. CHRIST!
BLOOD EVERYWHERE!!!
EXPLOSIONS!!!
The sun is starting to set. Thunder stands over a mass grave he spent the latter part of the afternoon digging. He had to haul these bodies a good five miles because he didn't want them buried anywhere near his forefathers. Before filling in what remains of the hole, he takes the time to relieve himself on the tumble of body parts and hard hats below.
Sheriff Bo Svenson learns what has happened and immediately assembles an army of KKK members, NRA militants, great-great-great-grandchildren of Andrew Jackson, neo-Nazis, and Texans. He plans to make good on his promise to Thunder, but he hadn't planned on....
ACTION SCENES!!!
VIOLENCE!!!
MAYHEM!!!
Where did Thunder get a V-2 rocket?
AGONIZED SCREAMS!!!
A SHOWER OF BONE FRAGMENTS!!!
Ten minutes later, Texas and Arizona are blue states, but there's still one more redneck that needs to be dealt with: Bo Svenson!
Some stuff happens, and then Thunder drives a bulldozer into a burning building. A dead pig rests on the bulldozer's blade. How did the pig get there? I have no idea, but do I need to explain the symbolism to you?
Some more stuff happens, and THUNDER IS VICTORIOUS!
CHEERS!!!
CELEBRATIONS!!!
COPIOUS ALCOHOL CONSUMPTION!!!
What are you doing, Thunder? That's not your wife, and that other guy isn't your proctologist.
AGONIZED SCREAMS!!!
EXPLOSIONS!!!
Bo Svenson is left alive so that Thunder will have someone to hunt down and skullfuck in the sequel.
In a final scene, two young Swedish-looking kids are playing in the streets of what appears to be a suburban neighborhood. One of the children makes the traditional gun shape with his thumb and forefinger and then moves his lips as though he's speaking. A couple seconds later, a high-pitched voice says, "Bang! Bang! You're dead!" Somewhere between the first "bang!" and "dead" the other kid is shown making a megaphone shape with his hands and mouthing some words of his own. Then, the same high-pitched voice comes over the speakers: "Thunder will never die!" Why was it necessary to dub the kids' voices? Did someone misplace the audio for this scene? Was this stock footage? I can't answer these questions, and that's why the Criterion DVD/Blu-ray release needs to have a director's commentary track. Make a note, Criterion.
Now, on to a brief summary of Thunder Warrior II.
It's a couple years later. Thunder has replanted the trees that were cut down by Rawlins and his men, published his first poetry collection, and enjoyed spending a peaceful two years with his family and friends. Meanwhile, Sheriff Bo Svenson has been recruiting a new army of rednecks in Mississippi, Alabama, and the Ozarks.
The mischief begins straightaway when a gang of Deliverance extras abducts Thunder's wife. Or maybe it's his sister. Or his daughter. Or a neighbor. Or some young lady he's banging on the side. Whatever the case, the leader of the gang holds her down, tells her, "I'm going to show you how a white man fucks," and then proceeds to do just that. In case his performance isn't adequately representative of "how a white man fucks," his buddies take the time to provide demonstrations of their own. Unfortunately, the girl is so unimpressed with "how a white man fucks" that she cries and expresses her disappointment to Thunder, who is so incensed by this news of whitey's sexual shortcomings that he vows to wipe out the entire fucking ("if you can even call it 'fucking,' the girl interrupts) race.
CRUNCH! Thunder crushes some guy's body with a boulder.
THWACK! A head flies across the screen. If this movie had been in 3D, that head would've landed on your lap!
AAAAAAAAAHHHH!!! A handkerchief appears and wipes blood from the camera lens.
Ka-BOOM!! There goes Fleming Street.
"Thunder! Thunder! Can I have your autograph?!"
"Sure, son, but first I'm going to disembowel your dad."
UUUHHHHHH!
RAT-TAT-TAT-TAT! Is that a machine gun? No, it's Thunder performing a drum solo on Deputy Holloway's patrol car with Deputy Stewart's newly muscle-divested femurs.
It's time for the final showdown. What? No! Where are you going, Sheriff Bo Svenson?! The sheriff stumbles his way through a sea of corpses, all of which bear an uncanny resemblance to this guy, and makes for the county line. Thunder lets him go. After all, a second sequel would really cement his legend.
Now, on to Thunder Warrior III.
All right, I'll confess that I don't recall a single thing about Thunder Warrior III. But, really, if I haven't sold you on this trilogy yet, I'd be wasting my time with a scene-by-scene of its final chapter anyway. Either you're interested or you're not. If you're not, well, fuck you. If you are, start writing letters. We're going to do whatever it takes to get these masterpieces released on DVD. Keep in mind, Thunder would have you try diplomacy first. If that fails, there's always Plan B:
ACTION SCENES!!!
VIOLENCE!!!
EXPLOSIONS!!!
I'll leave you to it. I'm going to go take a nap. This social activism shit really takes a lot out of you.
Buy them here (on VHS):
Thunder Warrior [VHS]
Thunder Warrior 2 [VHS]
Thunder Warrior 3 [VHS]
No comments:
Post a Comment