42nd Street Forever: Volume 3: Exploitation Explosion

If you don't understand the appeal of these exploitation movie trailer collections, consider the following transcript of Ernie "Ghoulardi" Anderson's narration from the preview for the 1977 Robert Conrad action epic Sudden Death:

"Soldiers of fortune who shoot for loot, slay for pay, and slash for cash! Two masters with a thousand ways to kill, a pair of panthers on a rolling rampage of revenge! Back to back, they face Sudden Death! Molten madness erupting in a vicious vortex of violence! Sudden Death comes screaming out of the skies! The savage struggle for survival? Sudden Death! Unleashed! Unchained! Uncontrollable! Nothing can stop them! Not bombs, bullets, or bulldozers! Automatic executioners, triggering a massacre marathon, each man a devil-driven death machine in a human demolition derby! The damned versus the doomed! From the first burst to the last blast, they're a two-man disaster area! Skin of bronze! Muscles of iron! Fists of steel! The ultimate gladiators, in the final arena! Two fists of fury strike like vipers of vengeance! .38 caliber killers spitting death as they claw their way through Hell! Rapid-fire frenzy erupting in a .45 caliber climax! Sudden Death!"

That, my friends, is 100% pure cinematic cheese, served up with gusto!

Of course, not all of the trailers on Exploitation Explosion can match the electric energy or volcanic vocabulary of the one quoted above. As with the two previous entries in the series, this release is something of a mixed bag. For every testosterone-pumped Lightning Swords of Death or gleefully gory Devil Times Five, there is a ho-hum Happy Hooker Goes Hollywood or a thoroughly unremarkable Tattoo. The first third or so is such a guttural adrenaline rush of unabashed martial arts action and stomach-churning horror that it's virtually impossible to maintain the intensity once the focus shifts to adolescent sex comedies and sleazy thrillers. By the end of the disc, the unbridled fury of Enter the Ninja has given way to the inanity of the hopelessly derivative Jerry Reed and Peter Fonda trucker flick High Ballin' and the absurdity of Charles Bronson's western romantic comedy (!) From Noon Till Three, a collection that had begun with a thunderous bang ending with a disappointing whimper.