Thursday, August 28, 2014

Street Trash, Zombie Night, and Dead Drunk

In 2005 I was named the General Manager of Castaways, a dive bar that was literally hidden under a bridge. What could possibly be better than be named General Manager of a bar with no budget, no staff, and no customers? Well, it was also the dead of winter, and I had to bartend for 100 straight nights. Believe me, there wasn't a single person in the world who wanted to see me behind a bar at this point, especially me. To complicate matters, I had no experience. I had no idea what I was doing.

By Spring we were broke, and I had to come up with some ideas.Anything. I started with Punk Rock Night, karaoke with Roller Derby, pajamas and cereal night, Old School Beer night, and Zombie Night.


The first night eight of us watched Children Shouldn't Play With Dead Things, my favorite zombie movie. 

By that summer we were consistently getting at least 150 people on Tuesday nights at a bar under a bridge to watch movies like Hard Rock Zombies, The Stuff, and Street Trash,

I watched Street Trash again late last night. What a pisser of a movie that is. I liked it so much, apparently, I completely ripped off the premise in my screenplay Dead Drunk. 

Street Trash is a filthy, reprehensible movie, and there's not another one remotely like it. If gore is your game, and you can stomach enough misogyny to fuel Congress, this is for you. Don't try to eat while you're watching it. The premise: a cheap liquor store owner finds a crate of a hooch named Viper in his basement, and decides instead of letting it go to waste, to sell it to the street bums for a dollar a bottle. It makes them melt. I wasn't eating last night when I watched this, and I was able to set aside the unsettling misogyny in the movie and just enjoy it for the strange fucking delight it is. 






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