Lovedolls Superstar (1986)




The other day I was struggling with the question of whether or not the 1984 micro-budget indie Desperate Teenage Lovedolls qualified in any way as an actual movie. One of the stranger details backing up its validity as a feature was the fact that the desperately-amateur production had somehow spurned a sequel just two years after its release. Unconvinced that the sequel was a real movie either, I decided to track it down & that’s how I ended up sitting through all 80 minutes of Lovedolls Superstar, something I doubt too many people have done in the past decade or three.

I’ll say this much on Lovedolls Superstar‘s behalf: unlike its predecessor, it is clearly an actual movie. With a run-time that stretches beyond the one-hour mark, plot threads that (sort of) reach an A-B conclusion, and a cast that can for the most part read their lines without giggling, it already has a head start that Desperate Teenage Lovedolls couldn’t afford. However, that doesn’t necessarily mean much in terms of the film’s overall quality. I picked on the first Lovedolls film for not being able to reach a legitimate feature length, but its sequel wasn’t really improved with the embellishment, not knowing at all what to do with the extra thirty minutes of runtime.

After catching audiences up on the first installment through a montage in the opening credits, Lovedolls Superstar checks back in on the formerly-famous, now-homeless lead singer of the fictional punk group The Lovedolls as she bathes in a drainage canal. Meanwhile her estranged drummer has used her past fame to fashion herself as a cult leader among her punk peers (“If a wannabe rock star Charles Manson could do it, why not me?”) and the two eventually join forces for a Lovedolls reunion (“We could be on top again! We could be drinking champagne instead of Night Train!”). Splitting their time between getting the band going again & running a Satanic cult that convinces kids to kill their parents for Jesus, the girls more or less relive the can’t-run-from-your-past tribulations of the first film and build a growing list of enemies that would love to see them dead. The main difference is that Lovedolls Superstar forgoes the Valley of the Dolls tragic ending of the first film in favor of a conclusion that sees The Lovedolls boarding a rocket ship for a space adventure in a third installment that certainly was never coming. I promise it sounds way cooler & more watchable than it is in reality.

As poorly made as these movies are, I’ll admit that morbid curiosity would’ve lead me to watching Lovedolls in Space had it ever been made. If nothing else there’s a few interesting ideas running around in Lovedolls Superstar that might’ve worked in a shorter, more well-planned film. I had fun with the Satanic cult activities (which included fantasy fulfillment assassinations of cops, record executives, and Bruce Springstein) in particular, since it at least showed a vague interest in taking the movie’s blasé attitude into more exuberant territory. They’re just wasn’t any true effort there to back it up. Once again, the film plays like kids making a home movie for kicks & works best as a document of 1980s California punk fashion more than anything. Also on the plus side, its soundtrack includes pre-fame Sonic Youth, Dead Kennedys. Meat Puppets and, of course, Redd Kross (whose bassist Steve McDonald plays an antagonistic role in both films). When the movie’s not making grotesque “jokes” about how feminists are “dykes’ & sex workers are “trash”, it actually works as a half-decent montage with a great soundtrack. The sound & the imagery are there, just with no structure to support them.

My ideal version of a Lovedolls 3: Lovedolls in Space would be a dialogue-free, punk-soundtrack montage of the first two films’ highlights leading all the way up to the (underwhelming) rocket ship blast off conclusion of Lovedolls Superstar, followed by a music video-esque continuation of those images with a space backdrop. It could be entertaining for at least a half-hour’s time. That formula wouldn’t necessarily amount to a true feature film, but neither did the twice-as-long Desperate Teenage Lovedolls and Lovedolls Superstar didn’t know what to do with that distinction anyway. It would, however, have a much better chance of being enjoyable.

Side Note: There is a very brief cameo of a young Jello Biafra playing the President of the United States in this film, which is a funny thought, for sure, but not funny enough to earn 80 minutes of your valuable time. I promise.

-Brandon Ledet

Desperate Teenage Lovedolls (1984)




Ever encounter a movie so poorly made that you’re not quite sure it even qualifies as a real film? Over a year ago Britnee pressured me to take a couple shady-looking DVDs from the trunk of her car in a NASA parking lot in New Orleans East (true story) & I’m not quite sure that either one qualifies as a “real” film. I stil haven’t forced myself to suffer through whatever Da Hip Hop Witch is (though I plan to soon), but after much procrastination I finally dove into the bargain bin depths of Desperate Teenage Lovedolls. Having now actually watched the movie, I still remain unconvinced of its validity as a feature film. Recorded on super 8 cameras in the 80s California punk scene, the “movie” has the feeling of a goofball group of kids’ backyard home video. As soon as the animated heroin needle on the DVD menu & the horrendously dubbed dialogue of the first scene grace the screen, Desperate Teenage Lovedolls at best feels like a project the Troma kids started, but never bothered to complete. It’s an effortlessly punk production for sure, but it’s the kind of half-assed, sloppily drunk punk that registers as less than endearing.

With direct references to past virgins-in-peril melodramas like Valley of the Dolls, Desperate Teenage Lovedolls is a very straightforward story of two female teen punks navigating a male-dominated world of rock & roll stardom. In their pursuit of fame, the two protagonists find themselves homeless, drug addicted, thieving, and suffering the sexual advances of record label sleazeballs before their band (The Lovedolls, duh) finally hits it big time (in a little over a month). By the time they achieve fame, of course, it’s far too late & their lives are destroyed by heroin, gang violence, and looming murder charges. Since the “movie” can’t even muster up a full hour of running time, these plot points all whiz by at a pace that should benefit what is essentially a genre spoof comedy, but no attempts at humor even come close to landing, despite the charmingly amateur “actors” constantly stifling their girlish laughter. Here’s an example of a typical “joke”: a man in drag plays one of the teen’s pesky mothers, so the teen complains, “Mom, you’re such a drag.” The mother later comes back at her, “I’ve always tried to be a mother & a father to you.” Laughing yet? I couldn’t conjur up a chuckle either. And that’s not even to mention the way the “movie” casually mines homophobic slurs & sexual assault for “humor”. Throw in some pitifully slapped-together costumes & knife fights as well as some obviously uncleared tunes from names like Hendrix, Zepplin, and The Fab Four and you’re still left wondering at the end credits, “Is this a real movie?”

Here’s where I try to say some nice things about Desperate Teenage Lovedolls, whether or not it felt like a legitimate movie. If nothing else, it’s a great historical document of 80s California punks, particularly that of teenage girls. I know many a Tumblr that would salivate over the fashion on display. I also got one genuine laugh from the deadpan exchange “Thanks for killing my mom.” “No problem.” Although the “movie” was missing more outright humor in that vein, it did have the general feeling of kids having fun, just making a movie for kicks. I’m glad they had fun, but a lot of what made it to the screen has the distinct feeling of “highdeas”: things that were probably funny while the writers/performers were stoned, but didn’t hold up to later scrutiny. There’s no way that anyone could actually believe the blurb on the cover that claims Desperate Teenage Lovedolls “rates up there with John Waters’ finest early work” (at least I hope not; those are some of my favorite movies), but you can at least feel some of Waters’ style (as well as that of his early muse Russ Meyer’s) coursing through the film’s veins. I can also say this: the film has an incredible soundtrack, headlined by the big deal punk band Redd Kross, who proved its theme song: “Ballad of a Lovedoll” & a villainous performance from bassist Steve McDonald. Some of the “movie”’s best moments were montages that let the music breathe & the failed humor dissipate. It was also amusing to watch the girls pretend that the were playing Redd Kross’ songs, despite the male lead vocals. There were some other interesting incongruities, like a melodramatic drug freakout that relied on strobe lights & paused VHS tapes as well as the fact that the girls are supposed to be homeless, but still have a place to store & practice on their band equipment.

Still, none of this adds up much in terms of a completed product. Desperate Teenage Lovedolls still feels surreally fake to me, exactly like the kind of movie a friend who usually can stomach the worst media imaginable passes off to you in perplexed defeat. There are enough real movies out there that achieve what Desperate Teenage Lovedolls vaguely attempts (drugged out weirdos having fun being drugged out weirdos on film), ranging from John Waters’ Dreamlanders era all the way to this year’s wonderful Tangerine, that you needn’t bother with this half-assed mess, yet it still exists. It exists & it was well remembered enough to reach the DVD format two decades after its release. Even stranger, this supposed “movie” even spurned a sequel titled Lovedolls Superstar in 1986. That can’t possibly be true, but there it is, existing, being a real thing, even though I remain unconvinced.

-Brandon Ledet