A pre-Phantom Michael Crawford plays Woody, a goofy cartoonist-accidentally-turned-spy in this Cold War-era lark. In Paris visiting his friend, a CIA "file clerk," Woody is sent on a cloak-and-dagger errand and is mistaken for an operative by his beautiful Russian counterpart. She then contacts the agency with the demand that he, and only he, help her defect. Writer adopts comic book persona and voilà: Condorman! This wide-winged hero thwarts the pesky Soviets at every turn. From the old run-down farmer's truck he's driving emerges a flashy race car that outruns a fleet of Russian vehicles. Later, in a Chitty Chitty Bang Bang moment, the car sprouts floaters, allowing the pair to escape their pursuers by sea. Barbara Carrera's Natalia-the true spy of the two-is really just along for the ride. It's Condorman's show, as confirmed by the ending: a shot-filled showdown off the shores of Monte Carlo. -Kimberly Heinrichs.

Yes, Virginia, there is a Doris Wishman, and she really did carve a career out of blunt, bizarre, and bewilderingly bad sexploitation films. Deadly Weapons is one of her most notorious, a revenge tale starring the impossibly endowed Polish-born stripper Chesty Morgan (identified in the credits simply as Zsa Zsa), whose claim to fame is a 73-inch bust that she displays, strokes, and fondles in practically every scene. The nominal plot involves a mob blackmail scheme and a double-crossing gangster who just happens to be Chesty's boyfriend. When the syndicate kills him, she goes undercover to take her revenge on his murderers in a most unique way: She smothers them with her grotesque bosom. There's nothing erotic about this crazy freak show, but it is jaw-droppingly weird. Chesty is no actress-she shuffles, zombielike, through the picture while numbly gazing down as if looking for her mark-and her voice is supplied by a breathy American. As far as that goes, Wishman isn't much of a director. The picture is highlighted by flat performances, clumsy editing, wildly fluctuating color, and a tendency to cut away from dialogue scenes (she often lands on Chesty's mammoth mammaries) to hide the fact that all of the voices are dubbed in later. There's little of the spirit that makes Ed Wood's klutzy little pictures so much fun, but there is something strange and unique about this outrageous, unreal, and otherwise numbingly inept picture. It proved successful enough for Wishman and Morgan to team up for a pseudo-sequel, Double Agent 73. [+]

A pre-Phantom Michael Crawford plays Woody, a goofy cartoonist-accidentally-turned-spy in this Cold War-era lark. In Paris visiting his friend, a CIA "file clerk," Woody is sent on a cloak-and-dagger errand and is mistaken for an operative by his beautiful Russian counterpart. She then contacts the agency with the demand that he, and only he, help her defect. Writer adopts comic book persona and voilà: Condorman! This wide-winged hero thwarts the pesky Soviets at every turn. From the old run-down farmer's truck he's driving emerges a flashy race car that outruns a fleet of Russian vehicles. Later, in a Chitty Chitty Bang Bang moment, the car sprouts floaters, allowing the pair to escape their pursuers by sea. Barbara Carrera's Natalia-the true spy of the two-is really just along for the ride. It's Condorman's show, as confirmed by the ending: a shot-filled showdown off the shores of Monte Carlo. -Kimberly Heinrichs.

Bruce Lee wrote and directed Return of the Dragon, his third film, a mix of hard-edged kung fu and goofy humor. Once again he plays the country boy who travels to a foreign land, in this case Italy, where his restaurant-owning cousins face trouble from the local syndicate. Their strong-arm tactics have driven customers away and now threaten the family, but Lee refuses to buckle under their pressure and takes them on in a series of impressive confrontations. The film ends with a memorable showdown with world-champion karate artist Chuck Norris in the Roman Colosseum (though much of it is staged in a rather cheap studio set), a brutal, almost inhuman battle that revels in the intense punishment taken by the combatants. Norris is one of Lee's best opponents and a marvelous physical contrast: brawny and hairy, using power and blunt karate moves while lean, wiry Lee counters with speed, gymnastic prowess, and balletic grace. The mix of comedy and kung fu comes off as camp at times, but that's hardly the reason to see the film. When Lee gets into action, whether he's taking on a gang of knife-wielding thugs or dueling Norris to the death, he becomes the total focus. Originally titled The Way of the Dragon, this film was renamed in the wake of Enter the Dragon to cash in on that movie's popularity. -Sean Axmaker.

With good production values and a load of suspense, Atomic Train delivers the goods-ahead of schedule. A rich bureaucrat with a Porsche, a goatee, and a defective sense of morality places a defective Russian nuclear warhead aboard a defective American train for cheap disposal, but the engine loses its brakes and hurls out of control toward Denver. Will it explode? Will it wipe out half the city? Will the thoughts and prayers of the President-played by Edward Herrmann, in his best Chrysler-salesman mode-do any good? Will Rob Lowe, the major hero of this epic, ever be able to save his career? Atomic Train hauls along every disaster-flick formula you can think of: an estranged couple bonding again during a time of crisis (you begin to miss the hysterical Harvey Fierstein character of Independence Day); urban rioting and mayhem; government officials wearing headsets and breathlessly watching video monitors; trigger-happy military men; high-speed stunts; escapes by helicopter; clean-up crews in white spacesuits; many scenes of families being reunited after subplot cliffhangers, to major-key crescendos on the soundtrack. The only typical element missing is a dog saved from a fire at the last minute. But, you have to admit, what Atomic Train does it does with pizzazz. Everyone's a hero in this movie and almost everyone faces great danger, including Esai Morales, an estranged husband and father; Kristin Davis, the ex-wife with child he's competing with Lowe for; and Zack Ward, the assistant train engineer. It's interesting to see what Ward looks like and what he's doing so many years after playing the yellow-eyed bully in A Christmas Story (hint: a strikingly handsome decent actor). That's one of the many guilty pleasures of this film, with its post-Armageddon tone of overly heroic but ultimately disposable machismo. And explosions. Lots of explosions. [+]

The original reality based video. This video brings the reality concept to the next level. A must for any wrestling martial artist or crazy Jerry Springer fan. Our camera crews have spent the last few years searching the streets of America to bring to you for the first time Americas most shocking streetfights. This video has been featured on Fox specials, Real TV as well as many other National publications. Warning must be 18 to purchase this video.

Forget about Kevin Costner's sun-kissed, water-colored, Oscar-winning Dances with Wolves. Black Robe, which was directed by Bruce Beresford, a director who gave the world the finest film of the early '80s Australian new wave, Breaker Morant, and who continually collides cultures and ethnicity in his films (Mister Johnson, Driving Miss Daisy), matches and surpasses the Costner epic as an expertly crafted, brutal saga of redemption and salvation. In 1634 a young French Jesuit missionary is assigned to trek 1,500 miles through the New France wilderness to a mission settled in Huron Indian country. Black Robe chronicles the journey of Father Laforgue (Lothaire Blutheau) as he leaves his Jesuit brothers and, with the aid of a young translator and guide, Daniel (Aden Young), and eight canoes of Algonquin Indians, moves into the uncompromising Canadian northern territory on a die-hard mission to convert the natives. Mixing elements of Michael Mann's The Last of the Mohicans and Roland Joffé's The Mission, Beresford offers a restless tale of Laforgue's conflicted faith juxtaposed against the sublime spiritual harmony with the land that the Huron and Algonquin already hold. Black Robe dances to its own drummer and is tuned into the precarious balance between nature's mystery and spirit and the strident, unyielding religious ethic. The cinematography by Peter James is relentlessly cruel and bleak, but it absolutely conveys the obstacles that face the idealistic and blind young priest, who by the end, has faced his own awakening. The film also features one of the late, great composer Georges Delerue's most noble scores. -Paula Nechak.