LADY COCOA (a.k.a. POP GOES THE WEASEL) 1975, starring Lola Falana, Gene Washington, Mean Joe Greene
Speaking of films that never stop trying to entertain, while simultaneously failing to exhibit a true understanding of cinematic craft, Matt Cimber’s LADY COCOA (a.k.a. POP GOES THE WEASEL) is something akin to the little-exploitation-movie-that-could. That’s to say that the film seems to be mumbling to itself, “I think I can be exploitative, I think I can be exploitative,” over and over again, while never fully committing to the kind of sleaze one hopes for when watching grindhouse schlock. It’s a movie that’s too polite to offend you with gratuitous sex or violence, so it just relies on general filmmaking ineptitude to alienate the audience.
Lola Falana stars as Cocoa, who has been in a Nevada prison for refusing to testify against her mobster boyfriend. After more than a year in the joint, Cocoa’s tired of doing hard time, and decides to testify in exchange for her freedom…or at least that’s what she says. Unfortunately, it would seem Cocoa’s boyfriend is worried that she really will spill the beans, so he sends some muscle to kill her at the hotel where she is being held while awaiting trial. Meanwhile, some sparks are starting to fly between Cocoa and Doug (Gene Washington), one of the cops protecting her, maining there will be some kind inevitable showdown that may be exciting, or maybe boring as hell.
LADY COCOA was actually Matt Cimber’s third blaxploitation film, and while it isn’t nearly as good as the not-that-good-but-not-totally-terrible BLACK SIX, it is not without its charms – specifically Lola Falana, who is just plain fun to watch. Now, I’m not saying she’s “all that and a bag of chips,” but when you stack her up against actresses like Philomena Nowlan (MISS MELODY JONES) or Johnnie Hill (VELVET SMOOTH), you realize you’re looking at an Oscar caliber performance by comparison. Even though Falana does start to get a bit annoying with her whining, she’s pretty much the only person involved in the movie that seems to know what they’re doing. Even Matt Cimber is uncertain of what he’s doing, so much so that he remade LADY COCOA as FAKE OUT in 1982, with Pia Zadora replacing Lola Falana (because apparently Cimber likes actresses whose first and last names end with the letter ‘A.’
THE CANDY TANGERINE MAN 1975, starring: John Daniels, “the actual hookers and blades of Sunset Strip in Hollywood”
Even if director Matt Cimber had only made THE BLACK SIX and. POP GOES THE WEASEL, he would’ve earned a special place in the hearts of the most diehard blaxploitation fans; because while neither film is especially good, both refuse to be absolutely terrible in a way that defines so many other blaxploitation flicks. But it is not THE BLACK SIX or LADY COCOA that has earned Cimber a special place in the Schlock Cinema Hall of Fame, for neither of those films have the unbridled audacity or pure bravado of THE CANDY TANGERINE MAN, a movie that puts the “exploit” in exploitation. A tale of dual identities and one black man’s struggle to find financial success in world plagued by systemic racism and limited opportunities, THE CANDY TANGERINE MAN is a pimp movie unlike any other pimp movie ever made. John Daniels stars as Ron Lewis, a loving husband and father in the suburbs. But at night, Ron Lewis transforms into The Baron, a cold-blooded pimp runnin’ ho’s and puttin’ foot to ass on L.A.’s Sunset Strip. Between battling the Mafia, keeping the women in his stable in line, dealing with corrupt cops, and making sure his family believes he’s a traveling salesman on the road five days out of the week, The Baron has his hands full. In one night alone, The Baron pleasures one of his women, pulls another into his stable, and lays waste to five fools who try to come between him and his game, before returning to his unsuspecting wife, who wants him to fix a busted window in the bathroom. It’s a tough life, and as Big Daddy Kane once said, “Pimpin’ ain’t easy.” Lucky for The Baron he’s got a strong pimphand—not to mention his pimpmobile, outfitted with machine guns hidden behind the headlights. In fact he’s more than a pimp, he’s the Candy Tangerine Man—a super pimp, with pimpabilities far beyond those of mortal pimps.
By the time this film was released in 1975, the blaxploitation cycle had pretty much been played out. A political backlash that began in 1972 surrounding the film SUPER FLY charged that most of the films being produced for black audiences focused on morally suspect characters, and glorified black criminality. Organizations like NAACP and CORE took issue with movies like SUPER FLY and THE MACK, but the vast majority of all blaxploitation films were pretty tame when held up next to THE CANDY TANGERINE MAN. If, in fact, any of the movies produced during the blaxploitation era were worthy of harsh criticism for being morally corrupt, and pandering to the exploitative elements of sex and violence, it is this film. If there was ever a film that could be described as depraved grindhouse swill—in the most positive of contexts, mind you—it would have to be THE CANDY TANGERINE MAN. The film contains everything from golden showers to rape to mutilation (one hooker gets her breasts cut off, and a mob enforcer loses a hand in a garbage disposal). And of course there is the cast of extras, which, according to the credits, features “the actual hookers and blades of Sunset Strip in Hollywood,” all of whom lend an air of authenticity to the movie, while also being some of the most unattractive people captured on film.
John Daniels gives what is arguably the finest performance of his career as Ron Lewis/The Baron. Daniels is best known by blaxploitation fans for this film, and director Greydon Clark’s mind-melting sleazefest BLACK SHAMPOO. Daniels also appeared in such films as HIT MAN (the blaxploitation remake of GET CARTER), BARE KNUCKLES, and GETTING OVER (which he co-wrote and co-produced). Outside of film, Daniels was a successful businessman, magazine publisher, song writer, nightclub owner, and manager of the all-women singing group The Love Machine. His Los Angeles nightclub, Maverick’s Flat, is a place of legend, having played host to some of the greatest R&B and funk acts of all time. Acting was never Daniels’s greatest passion, which is fortunate, since he has a rather limited range. But his limited skills as an actor are not so much a reflection of whatever talent he may or may not have possessed, but rather an indictment on the work of director Matt Cimber.
Having already established that the crafting of fine cinematic fare was not his strong point, Cimber sticks to what he does best with THE CANDY TANGERINE MAN. And what he does best is craft low budget exploitation flicks meant to offer momentary distraction from the outside world. In the smoke-filled grindhouse theaters, and at the drive-in theaters that showed movies like THE CANDY TANGERINE MAN sandwiched in with other movies as part of double and triple features, the standards of determining good from bad are always in flux. THE CANDY TANGERINE MAN is one of those films that walk the fine line between sleazy and charming, and to be perfectly honest, it takes a special person to appreciate that fine line. That’s not to say that the film is not worth watching, or even enjoying with a sort of sadistic, depraved pleasure, because if that’s your cup of tea, then this cup runneth over. By the stick used to measure movies of this nature, THE CANDY TANGERINE MAN is a good film. Of course, “good” is a purely subjective standard that must be applied accordingly.