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As
a football fan growing up in the 1970s, it
always seemed to me that every year the
Dallas Cowboys played the Pittsburgh
Steelers in the Super Bowl. And one of
Pittsburgh's big stars of that era -- from
the famed Steel Curtain defense, was
"Mean" Joe Greene.
The whole country was introduced to the
giant defensive lineman in a fairly famous
TV commercial. If you were around back
then, I'm sure you'll remember it: A surly
Greene, injured and limping towards the
locker room, accepts a Coca-Cola from a
young, big-eyed urchin, who winds up with a
soiled jersey for his gesture, and then
gives a hearty thanks for this mutual act
of kindness. (Those of us who
remember the commercial's blooper reel
also recall take after take of Greene
burping and belching up a storm after
guzzling bottle after bottle of soda
before he could say his lines properly.)
Thanks
to that commercial, "Mean Joe"
became a pop-culture icon, and a
bigger-than-life superstar, and helped the
Steelers to four Super Bowl wins. Now
despite his mighty football pedigree,
lurking in his closet, however, is this
little enjoyable stinker of a movie known
as The
Black Six
-- a tale of six motorcycle riding Vietnam
vets who roamed the countryside and busted
a few heads when the need presented
itself.
Greene's
skeleton has plenty of company in this
particular closet, as his
compatriots and co-stars consist of other
NFL greats including Gene Washington
(San
Francisco 49ers), Lem Barney (Detroit
Lions), Willie Lanier (Kansas
City Chiefs), Mercury Morris (Miami
Dolphins) and Carl Eller (Minnesota
Vikings).
So
was it any good? Well let's take a look
and find out.
*
* * *
Our
film opens with a bang, with the brutal
murder of Eddie Daniels (Robert
Howard). Daniels is killed by his
girlfriend Jenny's older brother, Moose.
Why? Because Moose (John
Isenberger), and the rest of his
racist biker gang, didn't want his sister
going out with Daniels because he's black.
We
switch to another gang of bikers, led by
Eddie's brother, Bubba (Washington).
But this is a different type of gang.
These men -- Junior, Frenchie, Bookie,
Kevin and Tommy (Eller, Barney,
Morris, Lanier and Greene) are all
veterans of the Vietnam War. They've taken
to the open road to try and forget their
past and leave the hassles of "the
man" far, far behind them. So
they ride.
And
they ride...
And
they ride...
...
...
...Aren't
they there yet?
Roaming
the country, indefinitely, they sustain
themselves with odd jobs, usually just
working for food. We catch up with them
just as word reaches Bubba about Eddie's
death, via a letter from his mother back
home. Angry that no suspects have been
found, and the investigation is going
nowhere, Bubba
decides to return home to try and find out
who killed him. The others decide to go
with him. So
they ride.
And
they ride...
And
they ride...
...
...
...Aren't
they there yet?
Along
the way, they stop at a ramshackle bar for
a beer. A surly waitress (Marilyn
MacArthur) doesn't treat them very
well because it's a whites only
establishment. Things turn even uglier
with the rest of the locals, but the Six
can handle themselves. They're
intimidating enough to scare everyone
outside the bar without throwing a single
punch, after which, they proceed to
demolish it. While the waitress screams
racial epitaphs at them, they mount up and
ride on.
And
they ride...
And
they ride...
...
...
...I
think you're starting to get the idea,
here.
The
group finally gets to Bubba's home and
meet his mother, Flora (Marilyn
McArthur), and radically militant
sister, Sissy (Lydia Dean).
The investigation still hasn't turned up
anything. But Bubba isn't really surprised
by this, and over his mother's protests,
heads out alone to try and find out what
happened to Eddie. The other five kind of
disappear for awhile as Bubba searches for
his brother's killer. His visit to the
police station proves fruitless, so he
heads to the old watering hole.
Bubba
talks to the bartender and the local drunk
-- who is a fount of information. Coupling
what he learns there with a visit to his
old football coach, Bubba begins to piece
together what really happened to Eddie,
who killed him, and why. He wants to talk
to Jenny, Eddie's girlfriend, before he
confronts Moose, and finds out where she
works. And then Bubba asks the bartender
about Ceal,
his
old girlfriend.
The bartender says where to find her --
but warns he's not going to like what he
finds.
Bubba
finds Ceal (Rosalind Miles)
in a seedy hotel room with a *ahem*
client. Bubba refunds the John's money and
then chases him out. Ceal is ashamed of
her career choice, but Bubba isn't that
judgmental. She let's him have it for not
coming back to her after the war -- and
doesn't let up when she finds out why he
finally did come back. But Bubba won't be
stopped, even though he'll probably be
killed if he goes up against Moose.
Leaving
Ceal at his mother's house, Bubba heads to
the juke-joint where Jenny (Cynthia
Daly) works.
She recognizes Bubba but is afraid to talk
to him. Moose and his gang are there, too,
but they don't know who Bubba really is.
He presses her on what happened to Eddie,
and she starts to cry, but she still won't
talk. Moose sees this, pulls her away, and
threatens Bubba. Not intimidated, but
outnumbered, Bubba stands his ground. And
lucky for him the rest of the Six take
this opportunity to return to the film. (Ceal
told them where he was going.) The
cavalry has arrived, and things are about
to get ugly, when the police break up the rumble before it can get
started.
Moose
warns that this isn't over and wants to
settle things. Bubba says to name the time
and place, and they'll be there.
Promising to get
back to him real soon, Moose and his gang
leave and track down big Thor (Ben
Davidson) and about 150
reinforcements.
While
Moose conspires with Thor, the Six return
to Bubba's house for some introspective
folderol. The film tries to find it's
moral center with a lengthy speechifying
scene between Bubba and Ceal. Borrowing
heavily from several westerns, it robs the
most from Tom Laughlin's philosophy in Billy
Jack.
Bubba makes it abundantly clear that he
doesn't want to fight. All he wants to do
is be free and mellow out. But outside
forces are always interfering, and you can
only ignore them for so long until it's
time to kick somebody's head in.
After
an envoy from Moose's gang arrives to
palaver with the Six, they set the time
and place for the rumble. Ceal, his mother,
and Sissy beg them not to go, but go they
do. The
opposing gangs converge in a valley, and
after
a brief stand-off and round of posturing,
Moose admits to killing Eddie, triggering
the final brawl. The Six wipe out Moose's
gang in short order, but one escapes and signals Thor to unleash
his hordes on them.
And
like the westerns of old, the Six circle
up their bikes, like covered wagons, and
fend off the circling bikers -- who use
lit flares instead of flaming arrows. The
assault continues as the world seemingly
catches on fire. Bodies fly, bikes burn
and explode, followed by a larger
explosion when one idiot biker uses a
flare for a gas cap. And then things get
kind of ambiguous as the film just
abruptly ends on a shot of burning
wreckage with the visages of the Six
slowly superimposed over it. (I
think there's a metaphor here somewhere
but damned if I can find it.)
The
End?
Did
The
Black Six
go out like Butch and Sundance? Who knows
for sure, but the credits warn: "If [
we] wrong a brother, the Black Six will
return."
We're
still waiting.
Now
the whole "reason-de-art" of The
Black Six
is the idea of using football players as
action heroes. These
men certainly weren't the first to make
the transition: Woody Strode, Merlin
Olson, Rosie Greer, Jim Brown, and Fred
Williamson, along with several others, paved
the way. As
actors, these six NFL greats are -- well,
pretty good football players.
OK,
that's not really fair. Washington
actually shows some decent acting ability.
And Eller also appears to have some
potential but doesn't have a lot to do.
Greene, believe it or not, was basically
the silent comedy relief in this, and only
has about three lines. I don't think
Lanier had any lines, and what kind of
kung-fu was Barney exactly trying to pull
off here? Raging chicken fist?
Davidson,
another NFL veteran (Oakland
Raiders), had a decent career in
Hollywood, and has a great method
performance here as Thor, the leader of
the bad bikers. His greatest role came
about a decade later as one of Thulsa
Doom's thugs in Conan
the Barbarian.
He was the one who didn't gong
people with that big hammer.
Director
Matt Cimber, a/k/a Mateo Ottaviano, was no
stranger to the exploitation film market. His
films featured lurid titles, like He
and She and
The
Sensuous Female,
that were amongst the first explicit,
X-Rated films to receive national
distribution after Alex de Renzy's
documentary Censorship
in Denmark
knocked down the door and showed
intercourse on screen. His
most infamous feature was probably The
Gemini Affair
where Marta Kristen -- light years away
from being Judy Robinson in Lost
in Space
-- gets naked and has a lesbian affair
with Kathy Kersh. Then Cimber switched exploitation genres when
he teamed up with writer George Theakeos
for a trio of blaxploitation features. The
Black Six
was first, and Washington and Greene returned
with Lola Falana (?!?) for Lady
Cocoa
--
a/k/a Pop
Goes the Weasel.
The third feature, Candy
Tangerine Man --
featuring John Daniels as a family man by
day, and uber-pimp by night who takes it to
the man, has a growing cult following
since Samuel L. Jackson proclaimed it one
of his favorite films. The director's
biggest claim to B-flick infamy, however,
was helming a certain notorious flick
starring Pia Zadora called Butterfly.
(It
could have been worse. It could have been The
Lonely Lady.)
The
Black Six came
out in 1974 and the biker and the
blaxploitation film were both fizzling out
at the box office. But the production team
decided to try and squeeze one more film
out by combining the two genres -- and
more than a few western clichés. The film
ultimately fails because it spends way too
much time stuck in neutral. I swear half
the film is just shots of the six riding
in a V-formation down the highway. Beyond
that, not a lot happens until the last
fifteen minutes.
Now
I've been obsessed with seeing this film
ever since I spied a poster for The
Black Six
(see
illustration above) years ago in
one of my B-Movie compendiums -- I believe
it was the Phantom's
Ultimate Guide,
and have been feverishly searching for it
ever since. Front Row Features has a
no-frills DVD of this production out there
in circulation and I finally stumbled upon
one in the check-out line of my local
grocery store. The feature is also
available on a Diamond Entertainment
double feature disc with another
blaxploitation oddity, The
Black Gestapo.
And
I've spent five bucks on much worse
things, but for the record, the
over-stylized poster is very misleading --
I know, big shocker right? I'm fully aware
that expectations be a harsh mistress
seldom satisfied, so fair warning that --
admittedly, The
Black Six
isn't all that bad. Okay, sure, it's
terribly plodding, but I'm still glad I
found it and happily cross another
film off the gotta see list. So on behalf
of everyone else whose sat through this
thing I would like to say:
"Thanks,
Mean Joe!"
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