After years of hearing about it, I was genuinely excited by the prospect of seeing this true cult classic for the first time and, for me, it exceeded all expectations. [Bunny seconds this motion.—ed.] Spider Baby is Jack Hill's first full-length feature as a director and he wrote and edited the movie as well. Filmed in 1964 and '65, but not released until 1968 for a variety of reasons, Spider Baby is one of the strangest and most original stories you're likely to come across. If all of Hill's films have a Shakespearean point of reference, as Quentin Tarantino would have us believe, the closest thing I could possibly come by in comparison would be some sort of twist on King Lear. (Where the old man is the sharpest knife in the drawer and Regan and Goneril are both homicidal maniacs.) The old man in this case would be none other than Lon Chaney Jr., who apparently enjoyed this role so much that he remained sober for the duration of filming; which, according to legend, was no small feat. In the film Chaney plays Bruno, the somewhat bumbling chauffeur/caretaker to Virginia, Elizabeth and Ralph Merrye. The three adult Merrye children are full inheritors of a genetic defect that causes gradual regression to infantilism and, eventually, a feral animal-like state. The defect, by the way, is caused by inbreeding. Ralph, played by Sid Haig, is the oldest of the three and therefore the most damaged; he doesn't really speak so much as he grunts and makes noises. Despite the innocence of his character, he's completely creepy as a 6' 5" adult walking around in a child's sailor's suit. Virginia and Elizabeth aren't quite as far gone as Ralph, but their insanity also has a dark, bloody side. One fateful afternoon Bruno realizes he might be in over his head trying to babysit this brood when he returns home to find the body of a dead mailman sticking out of the front porch window of the house. (The mailman is dispatched in the first scene. It's kind of a predictable death but also kind of weird, so I don't want to spoil it.) As bad luck would have it, one of the items in the mailman's bag was a letter saying that two other (distant) relatives of the Merryes were due to arrive that day and that they intend to take over the estate and care of the "children." Since Bruno previously made a promise to his late master (the children's father) that they would continue to live in the family's mansion under his care until their death, this impending threat rocks his world. Once the relatives, along with a lawyer and his secretary, arrive things begin to spin rapidly out of control as the presence of the newcomers provokes the curiosities of Virginia and Elizabeth. Unfortunately, their curiosity has a tinge more bloodlust than most and a rather insane set of circumstances result in two murders. Bruno sees the writing on the wall, takes the fate of the Merryes into his own hands and ends the family line for good… or does he? In classic horror tradition, Hill completely leaves open the possibility that these events could occur again… and again…
—The Kommandant

Jack Hill never wanted to make a stockcar racing movie. (According to statements made during the bonus interview, conducted by Johnny Legend.) Nevertheless, he found something he could sink his teeth into and made a pretty enjoyable - albeit somewhat predictable - film. What Hill used as his jumping off point was the most insane offshoot of stockcar circuit, figure-8 racing (AKA, demolition derby). The story revolves around a bad boy street racer who goes to jail for illegal dragging and ends up becoming a legit stockcar driver, but not without paying some dues along the way. The young tough, Rick, gets bailed out of jail by Grant Willard, the owner of a racing team who saw his street activities and was impressed. Rick initially balks at the idea of running on the figure-8 track but when he spies the hated local champion, Hawk (played to the hilt by Sid Haig), he sees his target and agrees to race. Rick gets his bell rung in his first couple races but ends up beating Hawk the third time they meet, which lands him a hospital stay-worthy beat down from his nemesis later in the evening. Instead of scaring him off, this only toughens Rick up and he starts trying to leverage his own rise to glory. He beats Hawk again and this time gets some respect, plus an apology. Bolstered by this apparent display of unity, Rick, Willard, and his top driver Ed McLeod (played by actual NASCAR driver George Washburn to add some authenticity) hatch a plan to try and beat the "Southern guys" at the big upcoming race in Phoenix that kicks off the winter racing season on the West Coast. The good 'ol boys apparently afford very little respect to their California counterparts, so there's already long-standing bad blood. When the big race finally rolls around, after 10 or so minutes of seemingly irrelevant footage of dune buggies tooling around in the desert, Rick ends up winning but not without causing a crash that takes McLeod out of the race. When Rick joins the rest of the team at the hospital, he finds out McCleod is dead. While McCleod's wife (Ellen Burstyn, in her movie debut) and Rick's girlfriend freak out and Hawk just sits silent and reflective, Willard tells Rick he's not responsible for McLeod's death and then says he needs someone to drive his number one car at the race next week. Rick agrees, he and Willard leave and everyone else is left to pick up the pieces. The only real complaint I have with this movie is that there's too much racing footage. Even though it is actual racing footage, not staged for film, each race could have been trimmed by at least five minutes and the movie wouldn't have suffered one bit.
—The Kommandant

In many respects Big Doll House kicked off the highly successful Women In Prison genre that made for big-time box office in the '70s, and even bigger business in video stores in the '80s. Although he's uncredited as executive producer for this venture, Roger Corman—in a brief interview that's pretty much the only worthwhile bonus on this disc—recalls sending Jack Hill and a handful of hot looking girls to the Philippines to shoot this flick. Featuring Pam Grier in her first starring role (she also sings the memorable theme song, "Long Time Woman"), along with a cast of other equally foxy actresses—most of whom went on to co-star in other WIP and/or blaxploitation films—Big Doll House lays down the checklist for what's "required", or at the very least expected, in a modern WIP flick. If you're looking for sadistic guards, lesbians, torture, shower scenes, and loads of toplessness, look no further. Hill's pairing of Grier and Sid Haig, a combination he would use repeatedly throughout the '70s, is pure brilliance; they're the intergender tag team champions of exploitation. (If you will.) Grier plays the head badass among the inmates and Haig plays Harry, some kind of ex-patriate American who delivers snacks (and, for the right price, drugs) to the prisoners. All Harry and his cohort Fred really want is a bit of action with the camp's very horny women (well, the ones who aren't gay or on dope seem horny) but, of course, the inmates have one other thing on their minds as well: escape. Once all the need-to-know parties are in on it, which would essentially include everybody who has been imprisoned, the plan begins to unfold… and not without the usual, and expected, hitches. Who lives, who dies, and who makes it out alive are almost secondary to the actual escape itself, which is a non-stop action sequence that consumes most of the final 20 minutes. Which is not meant as a slight the first 70 minutes, because there's basically never a dull moment in the entire movie. While it's arguably not his best film, or even his best WIP film (that would be the follow-up, Big Bird Cage), Big Doll House is still completely entertaining and well worth multiple viewings.
—The Kommandant

As the story behind this film goes - according to the commentary track; I wasn't actually there - after having much success with his two WIP films Jack Hill, was approached by American International Pictures about making a "black woman revenge film." (He also tells an interesting related anecdote about how the folks at AIP wanted to make this film as a revenge of sorts against the people behind Cleopatra Jones, who originally offered that film to them and then sold it to Warner Brothers.) Since the outcome of that story is already obvious, we'll move on. While technically this wouldn't be the first movie of it's kind, it's influence was huge and it really helped establish Pam Grier's strong standing as a bankable leading lady. (The two teamed up again for the equally influential, and possibly even more successful, Foxy Brown the following year.) The film opens with an appropriately groovy and over the top establishing sequence that begins in a nightclub apparently frequented by pimps, hos, and associates of pimps and hos, and ends (after the credits) with Grier's Coffy character blowing a drug pushing pimp's head clean off. Literally! She follows that up by injecting the pimp's wing man, who she tricked into putting her in touch with the pimp in the first place, with a lethal dose of heroin. Why would a woman be forced to commit such wanton acts of violence? (Uh, besides the obvious ones.) Why, for revenge, of course. In this case exacted in honor of Coffy's younger sister, who was hooked on smack at the age of eleven (damn!) and never recovered from her addiction; and we know all of this because she yells it out right before she jams the syringe into the dude's leg. Shortly after we learn that Coffy, real surname Coffin, is actually a mild mannered surgical nurse at a local hospital. Which is kind of awesome because her day job involves saving people's lives while her off hours hobby involves killing people. We learn more details about the sad state of the Coffin family's situation later when she relates their tale of woe to a cop friend of hers. The cop is an ex-suitor who is looking for a chance to rekindle their old flame but Coffy gently shoots him down as she's already involved with another man. An older man that, as it turns out, is a crooked politician about to run for a congressional seat. She and the cop continue to cross paths though and later, after he saves her from a possible attack and she witnesses him receive a beat down for rejecting a fellow officer's offer of illicit, illegal, extra-curricular activity (and receiving a beat down herself for trying to save him) our heroine sets out on a second, even more extensive, round of revenge getting involving yet another pimp, his hos, and his associates. (Including Hill regular and personal favorite, Sid Haig.) Naturally, she finds herself in some tough situations but, just as naturally, she gets out of each an every one and eventually comes up the victor. Coffy is a roller coaster ride from start to finish and an indisputable classic.
—Bunny

It would be difficult to choose my favorite Jack Hill flick, but this is definitely my favorite of his girl gang movies; and I would say that even if he had made more than one. Switchblade Sisters is one of those films that you're either going to totally love or totally hate; and I think it goes without saying which side of the fence I'm on. Just for the record though, I have probably watched this a dozen times over the years - discounting the two times I watched it (once without the commentary track and once with; more on that later) for the purposes of refreshing myself on it's finer points for this review - and I enjoy it a little more each time. At it's core the film is about the trials and tribulations of a teenaged girl gang, the Dagger Debs, who are essentially the women's (perhaps that should be girl's) auxiliary of a teenaged boy gang the Silver Daggers. In case that isn't enough of a hook for ya, the Dagger Debs dress like a cross between Spend The Night era Donnas and mid-'80s Girlschool. (Despite the fact the film predates both.) So yeah, needless to say, the "girl band geek" in your life is gonna be all over this movie; assuming he hasn't already masturbated to it in the past. Anywhoo, as is the case with most teen gangs, the respective male and female Daggers spend most of their days protecting their territory, committing petty crimes and hassling squares (when they're not in school) and their afternoons, nights and weekends hanging out at their clubhouse, getting drunk, talking shit, playing pool, having sex, etc. Which, in itself, would probably be enough to fill the average mid-'70s exploitation film. Of course Jack Hill isn't your average mid-'70s exploitation filmmaker so we also get a fully functioning storyline weaving in love, hate, life, death, roller skating, and an all-female African American gang who fashion military style tanks out of cars. I would highly recommend this movie in any format you can find it (they even show it on the IFC channel every once in a while) but if you have seen the film & enjoyed it, I highly recommend checking out the commentary track on the DVD release, featuring Quentin Tarantino & Jack Hill, as it offers much insight into the film and allows Hill a forum to fully explain his whole Shakespeare angle. (The plotline in many ways mimics that of Othello with Lace as the protagonist, Patch as the Iago character, etc…) I especially like the fact that you can practically hear Hill's eyes roll back into his head as Tarantino spews obscure factoid after obscure factoid in a Tourettes-like fashion and endlessly compliments him. (Which he should, since Q's "been influenced by Hill" - read stolen ideas from his films - so many times over the course of his career.)
—Bunny