Matialth Good concept, poorly executed.

Grimossfer Clever and entertaining enough to recommend even to members of the 1%

Payno I think this is a new genre that they're all sort of working their way through it and haven't got all the kinks worked out yet but it's a genre that works for me.

Aspen Orson There is definitely an excellent idea hidden in the background of the film. Unfortunately, it's difficult to find it.

Rainey Dawn WOW a blast from the past - and a pleasant surprise. I got this gem in the Drive-in 50-pack collection. I remember this one from quite a few years ago. I am glad to have this one in the 50-pack. It's definitely one of the better films in the Drive-in 50-pack. This is a very bizarre film where Mickey Rooney plays B.J. Lang a psycho that is holding Carlotta hostage in his basement. He is creating a movie in his mind and forces Carlotta to participate. Mr. Lang gives us quite a show while "teaching" Carlotta all about the theater. To add to the weirdness, we have Old Charlie in the basement who is dead. It's not the greatest horror film but it is one of the better one's from the 1970s and in the Drive-in collection. 6/10

Bezenby Weird doesn't being to describe this one. Even if you're a fan of bizarre films you're going to have trouble with The Manipulator. Mickey Rooney plays B. J. Lang, a psychopath who is making a film in his own head in an abandoned theatre. He talks to people who aren't there, sees people who aren't there but has a very real woman held captive, whom he forces to play Roxanne in his imaginary film of Cyrano De Bergerac. At some point Keenan Wynn turns up as a tramp. That's the plot. So, how do you stretch that out to feature length? Well, Rooney basically babbles, screams, dances, sings, rolls about the floor, stares into space, drools, wears a fake nose, wears make up, whispers, talks to dummies, sweeps the floor and plays forward for Manchester Unitied while the film passes by in slow motion, speeded up, flashes subliminal images, changes perspective and even location several times.There's a ten minute stretch that takes place entirely under a strobe light, which caused me to put off the film for a while to have a break, and another ten minute stretch of people laughing in slow motion while Rooney walks around saying 'love' and holding a baby. Or how about the bit where Rooney rolls about the floor saying 'pills' over and over again? Or the jungle noises? Or the bit where someone goes mental with a moog while Rooney chases that woman about. For about ten minutes. In slow motion.This film is an endurance test for the viewer and although I'm not sure what the point of it all was, I'd pretty much reserve this film for folks who think they've seen it all, just to see their jaws drop. It's by no means a good film, but it's too weird to hate either. I wonder what Rooney thinks of it (yep, he's still alive…189 years young).

The_Void Well...from the plot description, you would certainly be forgiven for thinking this one sounds promising, and indeed it does; but what we have here is a very turgid movie that doesn't make good use of any of it's positive elements. The base of the plot is not particularly original as it had been used in previous (and superior) films such as The Collector in 1965 and focuses on a man who takes a girl hostage. In this case he is the insane makeup man B.J. Lang and he keeps the girl in his prop room. Former child star Mickey Rooney takes the lead role and succeeds only in making a fool of himself. The film really lacks direction and the characters' motivations are never really made clear, which often made me question why I was actually watching it. Director Yabo Yablonsky clearly doesn't have a clue and it's not surprising that he didn't direct anything else after this film as his direction adds nothing and he obviously didn't know where to go with his own story and doesn't get the best out of his central performers. Overall, this film certainly doesn't come recommended. See The Collector instead!

Woodyanders The legendary Mickey Rooney gives an incredibly wild, hammy and over-the-top full-tilt insane, inspired and uninhibited performance as B.J. Lang, a deranged and delusional psychotic washed-up Hollywood has-been who thinks he's a great successful big-time film director ala Orson Welles. Lang relentlessly torments and terrorizes hapless lovely aspiring actress Carlotta (the beautiful Luana Anders) on a dingy and decrepit abandoned studio back lot: he rants and raves to himself with rip-snorting gonzo aplomb, spoon feeds her baby food, impersonates an effeminate make-up artist (Rooney sports bright red lipstick and gaudy blue eye shadow!), pretends to have a fatal massive heart attack, and occasionally breaks into these astounding impromptu a cappella renditions of "Chattanooga Choo Choo" which he heartily belts out in this pained hoarse'n'wheezy croak of a voice.Writer/director Yabo Yablonsky whips up one awesomely aberrant and idiosyncratic marvel of an outré indie avant garde experimental cinematic meditation on dreams, delusions, dementia and the fine line between unattainable fantasy and bitter reality. Yablonsky deftly creates and maintains a clammy, creepy and claustrophobic weirded-out mood that sucks the viewer into the stunningly surreal and suffocating anything-goes nightmarish atmosphere which proves to be both jarring and riveting in comparable measure. Baird Bryant's garishly stylized cinematography uses every fancy artsy trick in the book: crazily tilted camera angles, distorted fish-eye lens, strenuous slow motion, artificially sped up film, wonky zoom-in close-ups and startling freeze frames. Gil Melle's groovy, droning, atonal psychedelic acid jazz score constitutes as another significant asset. Keenan Wynn briefly pops up in an embarrassingly thankless bit part as a mumbling drunken bum who Rooney runs through with a rapier. While Rooney clearly dominates the picture with his bracingly berserk and bravura acting, Anders still nonetheless holds her own quite well and gets to perform a major crack-up scene where she really cranks up the astonishing eye-rolling histrionics to 10 plus. A splendidly screwy and singular one-of-a-kind piece of sheer celluloid lunacy.