Larry Clark | It's Bloggin Evil!

Highschooler Tommy can’t take it anymore. His friends all talk about their sexual experiences and he’s still a virgin. Talking to a therapist to help redirect his sexual energy into something else, Tommy becomes inspired with the idea to form a rock band with best friend Ralph. The eager students secure three classmates from the student body to round out the band, one not being the obsessed competitive swimmer Sheila whom Tommy has strong feelings. Each band member’s lives revolve around their own sexual activities from sneaking around from their God-fearing, prudent parents, embellishing fantasy from late night tutoring sessions gestured by a hot, young French teacher, or contracting a venereal disease from a rockstar idol. As Tommy continues to plead with Sheila to attend just playing session, he becomes sorely frustrated by not only her lack of reciprocated affection but also lack of friendship towards the rest of the group, resulting in him finding his sexual prowess in the arms of a classmate’s mother who also recounts fondly her sexualized youth.

Not just another teen sex comedy from the 1980s, “Homework” is the provocative, controversial, and obscure teenage comedy-drama from James Beshears, his one-and-only director credit behind his day jobs of being a film sound editor on such a range of films from “True Lies,” to “Day of the Dead,” to “Porky’s Revenge.” The script is the debut feature from cowriters Maurice Peterson and Don Safran that carves out story subdivisions from Tommy’s friend and denotes Tommy as the as the epicenter of sexual hangups. The late, legendary producer Max Rosenberg, producer of many B-reels such as “Dr. Terror’s House of Horrors,” “And Now the Screaming Starts!,” and “Perdita Durango,” secured funding for the feature alongside Robert Fenton (“The Incredible Melting Man”) with Beshears and Safran producing under the production and distribution label of Jensen Farley Pictures.

The top bill was denominated to actress Joan Collins of the television series “Dynasty” fame, but the once voluptuous English brunette, who starred in “Fear of the Night” and “Sharon’s Baby,” sizzles in a more mature role in early 80s production with a screen time of about a third of “Homework’s” runtime. Much of the story focuses on Tommy, played by the late Michael Morgan (“Midnight Offerings”), who succumbs to Collins’ character’s subtly and sudden sultry desires for her daughter’s school friend when helping her hang a picture. The building up to this moment isn’t as plain on it’s face as it would seem with audiences subjugated to teenage fantasy and mature women’s reminiscence that doesn’t even hint cougar encounters. Collins, unfortunately for you sleazoids out there, had a body double for the character’s topless scene and romantic entanglements but the then late 40s actress had plenty of curves and sex appeal to make any man, no matter than carbon-date, sweat with arousal anticipation. “Homework” spreads the love, literally, as each band member goes through a totality of teenage sexcapades, individualized and customized to their own story’s arc, and there’s not a path of sexual conquest to be had but rather a variety situational scenarios where teens either learn the hard way, face the consequences, or leave their hearts at the door to avoid disappointment because at that age, the youth are the most impressionable and angsty with mixed up emotions. A young cast of Lanny Horn (“Tarantulas: The Deadly Cargo”), Erin Donovan (“Mack the Knife”), Renee Harris, Shell Kepler (“The Great American Girl Robbery”), Mark Brown, and John Romano (“Dandy”) act toe-to-toe with Lee Purcell (“Necromancy”), Carrie Snodgress (“The Attic”), Ernestine Jackson (“Aaron Loves Angela”), Bill Knight, Rosemary Alexander (“Madhouse”), Howard Storm, and Wings Hauser (“Vice Squad”) in this eclectic casting.

What’s most memorable about the little-known production is not the sex-driven antics and mischievousness of high school boys but rather the day-in-a-life of touch choices and toucher consequences interlaced with regular adolescent customs, such as missing the cut for the swim team and beating yourself up for it, smoking dope in the school locker room, have the fantastical hots for the new young teacher, starting a garage band, etc. “Homework” has comparable, lighter traits to the 1995, Larry Clark coming-of-age film “Kids.” While not as crass or violent, “Homework” has high-impact themes like sexual transmitted diseases accompanied with visits to the women’s health clinic, a misunderstanding of sexual education, and, even to go as far as, the exploitation of minors to an extent and a spiral of obsession as we see with Shelia is won’t leave the pool in order to shave time off her laps, neglecting friendships, and even romantic relationship with Tommy whom ends up in the arms of her equally emotionally irresolute mother reminiscing a past of first time and exciting sexual encounters. While the story manages to stay afloat with multiple sub-stories, technically, “Homework” falls below the conventional quality standard of the period with visible boom mics, a deficient picture quality, and lack of artistical knowhow from a new director in James Beshears. Luckily for viewers of obscurity, lovers of the long-forgotten, and retro-adventurers, there are boutique labels salivating for the chance to revive and resuscitate these titles back into our field of vision.

That boutique label is for those who are in the know wouldn’t expect “Homework” to be released on. Unearthed Films brings the James Beshears film to Special Edition Blu-ray, the first time on the format, with a new 2K scan a part of their Unearthed Classics banner, numbered at 15. The AVC encoded, 1080p high definition, BD25 presents to date the best image quality possible from the original 35mm negative shot on an Arriflex camera. There’s slightly more grain presented on this transfer that stems from Paul Goldsmiths’ cinematography and with that there’s a loss of detail in darker scenes that become victims of black crush where delineation bleeds into the environment and darker clothing no longer renders outstanding with the proper shades. Better lit scenes have more distinction coherency, but the color diffusion is limited and the original image retains a lower resolution akin to 720p and seldomly increases an upscaled 1080p in the 1.85:1 widescreen aspect ratio. What’s notable about this release, and despite the visible equipment gaffs, is the uncompressed LPCM 2.0 mono audio mix that doesn’t reflect any kind of hissing, popping, or damage to the track. There’s not a ton of range or depth representation with mostly interior shots containing dialogue, which is prominent and clear under the lossless compression. English subtitles are available. With the obscure nature of “Homework” comes with it not a lot of special features but what’s included is an archived interview producer Max Rosenberg going into detail of the film’s genesis and controversies, a promotional gallery, and the trailer along with other Unearthed Classic prevues. Unearthed Classics’s illustrated, cardboard O-slipcover of the prefacing sex scene between boy and woman covers the same image on the standard Amaray’s front cover. There are no inserts or other physical contents. The rated R release has a runtime of 89 minutes and is listed as region A for playback; however, I did have my player set to region B during play and so the release is tested for A and B regions.

Last Rites: Plenty of nudity and surrounding controversy keeps “Homework” relevant in today’s every-stimulating, ever-producing retro-release market but it’s the film’s pertinent application of teenage troubles that tips the scales to seeking this unconventional Unearthed Film’s Blu-ray release.

Get an A on this “Homework” Blu-ray Release!

Four teenage boys and four teenage girls decide one summer to live free, without inhibition, and to make as much money as possible. Discovering an abandoned caravan in the middle of nowhere, they set up their home away from home where doing what they want, and who they want, becomes a way of life. Sexual freedom and adolescent independency quickly leads the friends down a path of miscreant wandering and sordid pornography and prostitution. When one of the teens accidently dies, four accounts of what happened are told aloud to the court and with each version, the truth becomes indistinct amongst the slander, exploitative sex work, and their anarchist ways that surround a seemingly corrupt politician.

Debased youth bored with the common fabrics of society stitch their own downfall into extreme moral degeneration in Rene Eller’s 2018 dramatic-thriller from the Netherlands entitled “We.” Also known as “Wij” in the Belgium tongue, Eller tackles the cinematic adaptation of an Elvis Peeters’ novel of the same name from 2009 with not only directing a compelling and frightening image of idle hand youth, but the filmmaker’s also credited as penning the non-linear script told in four chapters that highlight four out of the eight teens’ versions of events and how that fateful summer not only saw their ethics become shattered, but also their close-knit friendships. Eller also co-produces the film, working alongside production companies Pragma Pictures and New Amsterdam Film Company.

“We” consists of a young cast, in age and in experience, bred from the Netherlands and though virtually credit-less, powerful performances from the lot all around that touch not only the venereal stimulators, but also reaches the twisted knot inside the gut of how being human equals being depraved. The four chapters begin with Simone, a young man smitten by the Femke (Salomé van Grunsven) who becomes a catalyst for the trial, played by an Anton Yelchin lookalike, Tijmen Govaerts. Govaerts gleams in Simon’s adolescent jubilee of love, sex, and carefree attitude. His story is followed by Maxime Jacobs’ Ruth, a 16-year-old who can’t seem to step beyond the line into total reckless abandonment, Yet, Ruth’s game for risky her own body to gain approval from her friends and for her shadowed love for Simon. Jacobs gapped teeth act as imperfect perfection upon her slumping figure sheathed in plaid, screaming purity inside her outcast shell, but Jacobs proves she can be more naughty in her character than that of her co-stars. Liesl’s third chapter paints a more grotesque picture of her friends summer. Pauline Casteleyn acts in the role of Liesl, an aspiring artist with that tough inner and outer shell Ruth aspires to but ultimately lacks. Casteleyn can cast a deadpan stare with the best of them that offers more of a chilling vibe off of Liesl, but neither of these roles could outwit, out-dominate Thomas. Aimé Claeys concludes the fourth chapter as the ringleader of the friends, or, more accurate, as the pimp and the kingpin. Thomas’ manipulate hand fosters questions about his past left purposefully open for a subjective opinion on whether his actions were that of his own boredom or being pushed to his limit by external forces. “We” rounds out with Friso van der Werf, Folkert Verdoorn, Laura Drosopoulos, Lieselot Siddiki, Gaia Sofia Cozijn, and Tom Van Bauwel.

Let me start off by saying that when the teens’ entrepreneur pornography ambitions comes to fruition, these reviewers’ eyes widened at the surprising site of explicit penetrations and fellatios; however, the unexpected hardcore isn’t the act of our already very naked actors who probably stood out for stand-ins as the story leads the friends to think of using masks for anonymity and all explicit scenes of sex involve masked performers or implied scenes are angled just right from the cruel and smart tactics of Rene Eller and cinematographer Maxime Desmet. “We’s” unreserved sexual boot up the censorship’s tight behind is this junkie’s drug of choice that gets the blood pumping in all the right places; yet, “We” garnishes a heavy topical subject serrated with generational and societal gaps of corrosive virtue and speaks in volumes of what entitlement entails for a body of minors spoiled by the very community that either nurtured or tormented them and then, finally, turn on them all, parental or not, with harsh repudiation. As a sincere compliment to director Rene Eller, “We” belongs in the maladjusted family tree that also bears the rotten teenage fruit of Larry Clarks’ “Kids” and Catherine Hardwicke’s “Thirteen” and harks back to the Golden Age of Dutch Cinema with the Dutch Sex Wave from the 1970’s which produced controversial erotica with “Blue Movie” and “My Nights with Susan, Sandra, Olga and Julie” from Scorpio Films. “We” has a friendly look and feel of a 70’s film despite modern devices, making the resemblance to the Golden Age that much striking.

From the Netherlands’ festival circuit comes the highly engrossing, explicit drama “We,” distributed stateside by the Philadelphia based Artsploitation Films onto an unrated director’s edition Blu-ray home video release. Presented on BD-25 in full HD and in a widescreen, 2.65:1 aspect ratio, impressive textures flourish every inch of skin of the actors and in the panning ariel shots, which are, at times, hard to obtain. Despite some early on aliasing during the opening scene and a bit of warm washed coloring that doesn’t pop with a colorful hue range, I’ve still become satisfied with the end result that sells the illusion of Summer (you can see the hot breath during some outdoor scenes), the immense use of natural lightening, and the skin tones announce a fresh feel for the flesh aplenty. The Dutch language DTS-HD Master Audio mix holds nothing to ill speak of with a rendered clear dialogue, ample range and depth, and subtitles that sync fine with clear delineation and no mistakes. Other than a static menu, the only other bonus on this feature is the explicit reversible Blu-ray cover that displays the bare ass(ets) of half the cast from one particular scene. There’s also the PG cover that you’ll see below to not offend any sensitive souls. Coinciding with being a great story, “We” is also an important film of human callousness hidden within the prospect of free love, an age-old infiltration and exploitation concept captured by Rene Eller’s subversive eye and Elvis Peeters sage mind.