By Christopher Holland

Mau Mau Sex Sex
Documentary, 2000
80 minutes, VHS & DVD
www.maumausexsex.com

Watching Mau Mau Sex Sex is a bit like rummaging through your grandfather’s closet and discovering his stash of vintage girlie magazines: it’s titillating and historically fascinating, but mildly disturbing when you regard the kindly old gents who are the source of so much smut. The dirty old men in question are David Friedman and the late Dan Sonney, producers of a wide variety of exploitation films, mostly in the ‘60s but in the surrounding decades as well.
Mau director Ted Bonnitt has produced a solid documentary about a particular segment of exploitation cinema; there’s a lot of good interview footage interspersed with clips from the bizarre movies in question. (The clips were graciously provided by the rights holders at Something Weird, who no doubt knew that the documentary would spur sales.) Unfortunately, the story of these two jocular sleaze peddlers runs out of gas too quickly and we’re left pondering Sonney’s daily routine of snoozing in his easy chair and even doing his laundry. Friedman, for his part, regales us with his views on the Clinton administration and other topics.

Don’t misunderstand: as a primer for the genre and a source for ideas on what to watch next, this disc is simply a must-have. And I don’t mind that Bonnitt and company delved a little deeper into the lives of his subjects and even went so far as to explore Friedman’s current life as a carnival operator. But be prepared to endure a few hands of gin while you wait for the next round of exploitation footage.

Clear Water
Horror, 2003
60 minutes, VHS & DVD
www.horroronfilm.com

Low-budget horror films have one hell of an uphill battle. Even in Hollywood, only the very cream of the crop of movies designed to evoke fear can escape being branded as crap. In the world of the independent film, there are so many no-talent schlockmeisters with DV camcorders churning out retreads of their favorite slasher flicks that talented horror filmmakers have little hope of being distinguished from the noise.

Clear Water, while neither brilliant nor groundbreaking, at least proves the point that there are directors toiling in obscurity who are more deserving of a feature film budget and access to professional actors than the people who make rubbish like House of 1,000 Corpses. Andy Koontz, the director/writer/producer (and apparently caterer, among other things) of Clear Water, proudly proclaims in a pre-film introduction that he made his flick for a sum of less than $1000. (Way less.)

Koontz has made an atmospheric and intriguing film about a serial killer who delivers clues about his latest crime to a random stranger in the hopes of drawing someone else into his psychotic games. Unfortunately, neither the acting nor the dialogue are quite up to the over-ambitious task of telling this particular story, and the plot relies on a couple of hackneyed devices to keep going. In addition, a number of digital filters have been added to the original footage to make it appear as if one is watching an aged print of the film on a dying projector, which succeeded mostly in giving me a headache. However, Koontz is headed in the right direction and Clear Water is surely worth the $10 asking price for discerning fans of the genre.

This article is reprinted from B-Movies Quarterly #3.