Monday, July 26, 2021

Carnosaur (USA, 1993)

"The earth was not made for us, she was made for the dinosaurs."

Dr. Jane Tiptree (Diane Ladd)

This review meanders... go down just past the Carnosaur trailer should you not enjoy verbosity.
Let's hear it for mad scientists (cum doctors): where would the world be without them? The staple of bad films everywhere, the prototype of course comes from literature, namely the good ol' doctor Frankenstein (1818), with the next mad docs of note arguably being the eponymous ones of Robert Louis Stevenson's The Strange Case of Dr Jekyll and Mr Hyde (1886) and H. G. Wells's The Island of Doctor Moreau (1896).

All three mad-to-misdirected men have been portrayed on-screen many times, the earliest versions being, for Moreau, neither Charles Laughton (1 Jul 1899 – 15 Dec 1962) in The Island of Lost Souls (1932) nor Erich Kaiser-Tilz (7 Oct 1875 – 22 Nov 1928) as Prof. McClelland in the unauthorized German version Die Insel der Verschollenen a.k.a. The Island of the Lost (1921), but someone unknown in a lost British film from 1913, The Island of Terror; for Dr Jekyll, neither John "I Need A Drink" Barrymore (14 or 15 Feb 1882 – 29 May 1942) in John S. Robertson's Dr Jekyll and Mr Hyde (1920 / full movie) nor King Baggot (7 Nov 1879 – 11 July 1948) in the 1913 short of the same name (full short), but Hobart Bosworth (11 Aug 1867 – 30 Dec 1943) in a lost version from 1908; and for Dr Frankenstein, not Colin Clive (20 Jan 1900 – 25 June 1937) in the undisputed classic must-see Frankenstein (1931 / trailer) but, some three or five film versions earlier, Augustus Phillips in James Searle Dawley's silent short Frankenstein (1910, our Short Film of the Month for May 2021). [In a total aside: John Barrymore's fourth and final wife, Elaine Barry, starred in our Short Film of the Month for March 2016, Dwain Esper's How to Undress in Front of Your Husband (1937).] The archetypical filmic portrayal of the mad scientist is probably Rotwang (Rudolf Klein-Rogge of Hexen [1949 / full film / poster below]) in Metropolis (1927 / trailer), but the generally male stock character itself comes in many shapes and sizes in fun and not-so-fun films throughout film history.*
* Of the films we've reviewed here, the mad doctor/scientist films that promptly come to mind are The Brain that Wouldn't Die (USA, 1959), Maniac (USA, 1934) Re-Animator (USA, 1985) and The Monster Maker (USA, 1944), but as little as a two-minute perusal of the list of reviewed films found to the left finds: Alien Lockdown / Creature (USA, 2004), The Asphyx (Great Britain, 1973), Bela Lugosi Meets A Brooklyn Gorilla (USA, 1952), BrainWaves / Mind Games (USA, 1983), Corpses (USA, 2004), Corruption (Great Britain, 1968), The Curse of Frankenstein (Great Britain, 1957), Dante 01 (France, 2008), Devil Species (2004), Dr. Chopper (USA, 2005), Dr. Jekyll and Sister Hyde (Great Britain, 1971), Dr. M (Germany, 1990), Event Horizon (USA, 1997), Hammerhead: Shark Frenzy / Sharkman (USA, 2005), the surreal gore porn Hardgore (USA, 1974)...
Trailer to Tod Browning's
 The Devil-Doll (1936):
As probably to be expected in this perfect world of omnipresent equal rights and universal equality, female mad scientists (like Afro-American ones*) are a far rarer breed. In literature, perhaps the earliest of the "lunatic ladies in the laboratory" is the titular protagonist of George Griffith's long out-of-print 1894 novel, Olga Romanoff (aka The Syren of the Skies), who has never made the jump to the silver screen. On screen, the first might be housewife-turned-mad-scientist Malita, played by an immensely enjoyable Rafaela Ottiano (4 Mar 1888 – 18 Aug 1942), in Tod Browning's The Devil-Doll (1936 / trailer above, starring John Barrymore). Thereafter, the first "real" (mad) female scientists to promptly come to our mind are Dr Myra (Katherine Victor) of the no-budget anti-classic Teenage Zombies (1959),  Dr Lil Stanhope (Renee Harmon) of Frozen Scream (1980), and Dr. Pamela Isley aka Poison Ivy (Uma Thurman) of the mega-budget, ultra-campy critical flop, Batman & Robin with Nipples (1997 / trailer). A name that we now know must be added to that illustrious list of three is that of Dr. Jane Tiptree (Diane Ladd), of this Roger Corman production, Carnosaur.
* Though we do promptly think of The Blob (1988 / trailer) remake and, of course, Dr. Jekyll, Mr. Black (1976 / trailer). The first Black mad doctor to appear in film, however, appeared eight years after the first Dr. Frankenstein: an unknown actor plays the unnamed mad-doctor daddy of the "race film" Mercy, the Mummy Mumbled (1918 / what's left of it), a 13-minute comedy short that is more or less a Black-cast remake of the white-cast short, The Egyptian Mummy (1914 / full film). "[Mercy, the Mummy Mumbled] was made by the 'Historical Feature Film Company [us]', which was a white-run company, but distributed by the Ebony Film Company [us]' to make it appear that it was released by a black-controlled company. [imdb]" True, but the statement glosses over the fact that Mercy was, nevertheless, "an all-Black production in terms of the director, writers, production crew and actors," as Scared Silly points out. But as Scared Silly also goes on to say, the film is problematic in many ways. (Go to Scared Silly to find out more.) In turn, if one looks at the definition of "mad scientist/doctor" loosely, the first female Black mad doctor (actually less mad than simply misguided) is probably Dr Jackson (Laura Bowman) of "the first science fiction horror film to feature an all-black cast," the contentious Son of Ingagi (1940 / full film). 
Trailer to
As directed and written by scriptwriter & director Adam Simon (co-scripter of Bones [2001] and S&D of the pretty good Brain Dead [1990 / trailer]), this dino film and its mad doctor sit amidst appropriate company when it comes to the three previously listed "mad female doctor" films. Like the previously mentioned movies, a masterpiece this movie is not — but then, who really expects a film named something like Carnosaur to actually be a "good" movie? Based, in theory, on the eponymously named book from 1984 by some guy named John Brosnan (7 Oct 1947 – 11 Apr 2005), the script for Carnosaur takes so many liberties with its source material that it could be argued that the original novel has yet to be adapted.*
* A relatively productive author with diverse pen names (Carnosaur was written, for example and as you can see below, by Harry Adam Knight), Brosnan saw three feature-film adaptations of different books of his during his lifetime: this film here, Proteus (1995 / trailer), based on Slimer, and Beyond Bedlam aka Nightscare (1994 / full movie), based on Bedlam. While some see Brosnan's novel Carnosaur as derivative of Michael Crichton's best seller Jurassic Park, Carnosaur preceded the latter author's novel by six years.
Even if the source novel of Carnosaur was not a rip-off, the film itself is of course and definitely a cheap & quick attempt by Corman's Concorde-New Horizons production house to rip off and ride on the coattails of 1993's big budget hit production, Spielberg's Jurassic Park (trailer). In an inspired casting turn, Corman even got Diane Ladd, the real-life mother of that film's lead female actor, Laura Dern, to play Carnosaur's mad scientist. As might be expected of a professional actor whose feature-film career spans back to an un-credited appearance in Something Wild (1961 / trailer) — Lane's first credited feature-film appearance is in The Wild Angels (1965 / trailer)* — she does an unexpectedly professional acting job considering that she's working with a one-note stock character ("mad scientist"). Indeed, her thespian turn and that of Harrison Page,** as the one-note stock character Sherriff Fowler, are notably miles above the quality of the absolutely terrible acting job Raphael Sbarge (of The Hidden II [1994 / trailer]) does playing the movie's male lead and hero, the security guard "Doc" Smith. Sbarge is simply unconvincing throughout the film as either hero or nice guy, but it is during his attempts at playing drunk that he achieves an almost sublime textbook example of everything you can do wrong when "acting" a drunkard. One can only wonder that unlike the somewhat nominally better female lead of the movie, Jennifer Runyon*** (playing the eco-activist Ann "Thrush"), he maintained an acting career after this film.****
* Diane Ladd and fellow co-star Bruce Dern were already 5 years married when they appeared together in this legendary Roger Corman movie starring Peter Fonda and Nancy Sinatra. According to common Hollywood lore, their daughter Laura Dern was conceived during the shoot of this movie. (See Dick Miller, Pt II.)
** Harrison Page might be not be in all that many feature films, but he started his career with two roles of note: he made his debut playing the Afro-American draft dodger Niles in Russ Meyer's classic Vixen! (1968 / trailer) and then appeared in Meyer's camp masterpiece Beyond the Valley of the Dolls (1970 / trailer / see R.I.P. Charles Napier) as Emerson Page, the good-guy beau of the bodacious Petronella Danforth (Marcia McBroom) versus her hotly muscular and violent one night stand, Randy Black (James Iglehart). Iglehart may have had the muscles, but Page got the acting career.
*** Runyon, aged 33, who made her film debut in David Hess's slather To All a Good Night (1980 / trailer / see R.I.P. Harry Reems Pt. V), retired from acting after this movie. In the teens of the 21st century, she returned to make special appearances in three films: Silent Night, Bloody Night 2: Revival (2015 / trailer), Terror Tales (2016 / trailer) and Bloodsucka Jones vs. the Creeping Death (2017 / trailer).
**** The only other actor of note, whom we fail to mention in our review, is everyone's favorite Republican, the cult actor Clint Howard. He does a typical Clint Howard turn, if perhaps a bit more subdued than normal, and then dies.
As a rip-off of a blockbuster, Carnosaur comes nowhere close to being as good as the best of earlier Corman blockbuster rip-offs like John Sayles's Alligator (1980) and Joe Dante's Piranha (1978 / see R.I.P. Dick Miller Pt V). The flaw lies not just in the uneven acting, but far more in the substandard episodic script, atrocious editing and dearth of humor. Not that there is no humor present in Carnosaur, just that too much of it is budget-related (the "big showdown", with its obvious toy trucks and dinos, is pretty funny) or is lost amidst the bad acting and editing, the latter of which causes the movie to come across as if swathes of the narrative were inexplicably ripped out and left on the editing room floor. The result is that the narrative often feels like a bunch of scenes strung together but lacking the bridge between them. Not that these gaps make the movie hard to follow, they merely make the narrative extremely inconsistent and full of "Huh?" moments.
On the whole, the movie is as much a mad doctor and dinosaur-on-the-loose film as it is — fitting to the times we chose to finally watch it — a pandemic movie. If we got the plot right: Dr. Tiptree (Ladd), hired to biotech-pimp chicken, instead creates a virus that infects everyone but also specifically causes women (including, one would suppose, post-menopausal women) to self-fertilize and give — in belly-bursting homage to Alien (1979 / trailer) — birth to chicken-based carnosauria. Prior to this mass fertilization, however, one baby carnosaurus (born to a chicken) gets loose and lays waste to almost everyone introduced anywhere in the movie. The government is then called in to handle the situation, but as to be expected it basically lays everyone else to waste in their typically SNAFU fashion...
Anti-big business, anti-biotech, anti-government and oddly anti-woman (the ability to get pregnant definitely feels like a biological flaw in this film), Carnosaur is definitely third-rate Corman trash, far closer in its entire id to the ineptitude and lack of intelligence of Piranha II: The Spawning (1982 / trailer) than the film that that slice of Italo-trash followed. But much like that Z-film, there is a lot to be found in Carnosaur for fans of cinematic flotsam to enjoy: you name it, but for Diane Lane and Harrison Page and most of the practical gore effects, it is all laughably terrible. And to crown off all that badness, screenwriter/director Adam Simon has the cahonas to pay a direct homage to the ironic, hard-hitting and extremely bleak ending of the original George Romero version of The Crazies (1973 / trailer). (Kudos, dude!)
Yep, Carnosaur is pretty crappy, but in a fun way. It goes well with pizza and beer. That said, the less you expect the more you'll probably be able to enjoy it.
A success during its theatrical release, Carnosaur went on to spawn two direct-to-video sequels: Carnosaur 2 (1995 / trailer), with the great John Heard, and Carnosaur 3: Primal Species (1996 / trailer). Roger Corman, being the legendary penny-pincher that he is, also reused Carnosaur footage in Raptor (2001 / trailer) and The Eden Formula (2006 / trailer) — the last wreckage of a film with Dee Wallace, Tony Todd and Jeff Fahey! 
Cinema Dinosaurs (1920-2015):

Monday, July 19, 2021

Short Film: Duck and Cover (USA, 1952)

"We all know the atomic bomb is very dangerous..."
Originally we planned to just take a look the theme song to this short as a Music from Movies post — see Music from Movies: Zatoichi, Music from Movies: The Black Klansman, and Music from Movies: The Green Slime but somewhere along the way we decided that this classic slice of Cold War celluloid really deserved to be a Short Film of the Month.
Really: we have probably all heard of this thing, but how many (especially those born after 1970) have actually seen this classic, "1952 civil defense animated live-action social guidance film"? In 1999, Duck and Cover received the honor of being inducted into the US National Film Registry, which describes the film thus: "This landmark civil defense film was seen by millions of schoolchildren in the 1950s. As explained by Bert the Turtle, to survive an atomic attack you must 'duck and cover.'" A description that totally ignores the film's most attractive aspect today: it's pretty funny.
But before we look at the film, let's take a gander at the catchy title track, entitled Bert the Turtle (Duck and Cover) written by Leon Carr and Leo Corday, and sung by the Chicago-based singer and entertainer Dick "Two Ton" Baker (2 May 1916 – 4 May 1975); in its day, it sold three million copies (though some sales may have been due to the 45's A-side song, Fuzzy Wuzzy [contemporary cover version]). Baker, a successful local musician in Chicago who once said, "The only thing I've ever wanted to do in this world is play piano and sing on the radio. This isn't work, it's play — and I'm getting paid for it!", released other popular novelty songs over the course of his career, including everyone's favorite, I Like Stinky Cheese. Oddly enough, however, Two Ton's version of Bert the Turtle (Duck and Cover), though obviously enough released* as a tie-in to the film, is actually a cover version. The original version heard in the film is sung by a typically generic easy listening chorus, by all accounts arranged by the jazz musician Dave Lambert (19 June 1917 – 3 Oct 1966) of Lambert, Hendricks & Ross. 
* It was released by Coral Records, a subsidy of Decca whose roster included such great as Patsy Cline and Liberace. Coral ceased to exist in 1973. 
Dick "Two Ton" Baker sings
Bert the Turtle (Duck and Cover):

The short itself was filmed somewhere in Queens in the autumn of 1951 by the Manhattan-based advertising firm Archer Productions. "The first public showing of Duck and Cover (and Our Cities Must Fight*) was at the Alert America Convoy launch in Washington, D.C. on January 7, 1952. The Alert America Convoy was the grand gesture of the new FCDA [Federal Civil Defense Administration]. The convoy comprised three caravans of 10 large trucks and trailers that toured the country for nine months in 1952. Each vehicle contained various civil defense exhibitions including dioramas, posters, three-dimensional models and movies. The theme of the convoy was to show what 'might happen' and then provide education on what every citizen could do to 'beat the bomb.' The Advertising Council, working closely with the FCDA, promoted the convoy like a Hollywood B-movie with screaming posters that read: 'Don't miss it…it's the show that could save your life!' [Conerad]" 
* Like Duck and Cover, Our Cities Must Fight was an Archer Productions production. 
Obviously intended for a young audience, this "educational" film enjoyed a long life despite already being pulled from circulation by the contracting Federal Civil Defense Administration by June, 1955, and being officially declared "obsolete" by the same administration in 1957. (For more info on all that, see Jake Hughes's essay at the National Film Registry.) But as every American knows: if a school ever bought an educational film, it was shown until it fell apart, so this short continued to be screened for years to come. Thus the film was indelibly burned into the brains of generations of kids and, once it was truly no longer shown in schools, it achieved a second life as pop reference material perfect for such fun stuff as the documentary The Atomic Café (1982), a 2013 National Film Registry induction, or Weird Al Yankovic's Christmas at Ground Zero (1986) 
Full short —
Duck & Cover:

Like most educational and/or civil defense films, the cast is a cast of nobodies. Perhaps some went on to this or that level of fame and success in business or crime, but as the names are unknown we will never know. One name is known, however: that of the narrator. Duck and Cover is one of the first known film projects of the deceased and mostly forgotten American character actor Robert Middleton (born Samuel G. Messer, 13 May 1911 – 14 June 1977), who went on to have a decent career usually playing the bad guy.
Aside from his numerous TV appearances, he can be found in such fine feature-film fare as Paul Newman's film debut The Silver Chalice (1954 / trailer), the classic noir The Big Combo (1955 / full film), The Desperate Hours (1955 / trailer), Elvis Presley's film debut Love Me Tender (1956 / trailer), The Glass Cage (1964 / full film), Nancy Sinatra's film debut For Those Who Think Young (1964 / trailer), Which Way to the Front? (1970, see Dick Miller, Part III), The Harrad Experiment (1973 / trailer), and the anti-classic The Lincoln Conspiracy (1977 / full film). 
As an added attraction —
Billy Chambers' 1962 non-hit, Fallout Shelter*:

* "Fallout Shelter, which was recorded in two or three takes along with the ironically titled A-side of the disk (That's When I Stopped Living), was sung by 24-year-old Billy Chambers and a chorus of back-up singers from Florida Southern College. Chambers, who was in a rock band called the Dynamics, was recruited for the session because [producer & writer Bobby] Braddock liked the singer's voice. This record would remain the only solo music issued by Chambers, who left show business shortly after the single's release for the more stable field of construction. Chambers passed away in 1991 at the age of 52 from cancer. [Conerad]" 
Lastly: For another take on when the bomb falls, let us suggest either our Short Film of the Month for September 2015, A Short Vision (1956), or for February 2018, Pica-Don (1978).

Monday, July 12, 2021

Exhibitionisten Attacke (Germany, 2000)

Another obscure direct-to-video slab of independently made, unmitigated trash from Germany's premiere Outsider filmmaker, Jochen Taubert (born 14 Jan 1968), whose films anyone outside of the German-speaking countries will probably never bother to see, unless of course they are bad-film masochists who happen understand some German and go the extra mile to search them out. In general, we would recommend trash-lovers to watch at least one of Taubert's films someday (perhaps not this one), for we here at a wasted life find his socially irrelevant and intellectually empty examples of ugly, no budget, feature-length idiocy extremely enjoyable when watched in a group with the right state of mind and access to a lot of beer. But then, that is more or less also how Taubert's films are intended to be viewed, according to the filmmaker himself. "Back then [when we made our first film] like now, we always film under the influence of alcohol. It is also imperative not to be sober when watching our films. [ghostshit reviews]"
Exhibitionisten Attacke ("Attack of the Exhibitionists") is possibly/probably his fourth full-length project, made a year after his similar but superior — if one can even use that word when discussing Taubert movies — Ich pisse auf deinen Kadaver ("I Piss on Your Cadaver"). The "plot" this time around involves a mad ninja doctor who turns his mostly male patients into murdering exhibitionists, although only three or so ever truly go the full monty and flash full frontals with out-of-focus, pube-crowned hooded soldiers (hairlessness wasn't really de rigueur yet in 2000), and a young woman singer (Adriane Sondermann) out to stop him. Along the way, more or less everyone introduced on screen dies a bloody or ridiculous death. There is also one singular female exhibitionist, BTW, but she is somewhat demure by usual Taubert standards. 
Exhibitionisten Attacke
minus everything that YouTube might flag:
To talk logic is illogical when it comes to Exhibitionisten Attacke, but if there is any form of logic at all to the film's narrative it is at best dream logic, the kind of narrative development one has in dreams or nightmares: the action continues scene to scene, but no scene really lines up fully logically to the preceding or subsequent one despite coming across as chronological. The dialogue is just as non-sequiturly obtuse — typical example: after the lead female escapes death for the umpteenth time and has even killed an exhibitionist or four, she shows up at band rehearsal and simply excuses her late arrival with, "Sorry, I've had a hard day." Then she sings the crappy techno song (something about saving nature) as the film's only female exhibitionist attacker — at least: she dresses and kills like the other exhibitionists but she never flashes — saunters into the same studio and everyone in the room ignores her as she pours poison into the fog machine which, because that is what one does in a recording studio, gets turned on…
The lead female is the only survivor, of course, and thus narrative continues and everyone around her keeps dropping like flies, sometimes by her own hand. Despite an occasional emotionless outburst of "You asshole!" or "You fiend!" or "Help! There's a killer after me!", the film's heroine more or less just tumbles forward unaffected and unreflective by anything that happens to her. Regardless of whether her brother dies, friends die, her hairdresser dies, she hunts or is hunted by the bad guys, goes shopping for bandages, runs over a seeing-eye dog, or gets chased through the countryside, she remains pretty much nonplussed by the death and destruction around her and just barrels onward and forwards. In that sense, she is a bit like the title character of Christian Marquand's (15 Mar 1927 – 22 Nov 2000) star-studded flop of a filmic take of Terry Southern's Candy (1968 / trailer), with Babe of Yesteryear Eva Aulin, who as Candy just continues in a nonstop and unaffected forward trajectory no matter what sexual shenanigan transpires in her presence. (Again, however: instead of the sexual situations of Candy, in Exhibitionisten Attacke it is just death and blood and terrible acting).
This consistency of inconsistency in dialogue and action and nonsensical forward trajectory of Taubert's movie is indubitably magnified by the fact that Exhibitionisten Attacke was made without a true pre-written screenplay. As Taubert reveals at ghostshit, "No, there is no script, there's a story as a guiding thread and what ends up happening is the result. For example: my friend is a policeman, so a police car shows up; my brother is in hospital, so we shoot at his bed in the hospital; and so forth…."
His brother also ends up being the first exhibitionist attacker, but that flasher isn't around all that long. In the case of Exhibitionisten Attacke, in any event, we would conjecture that true source of the film's creation is the footage of real internal operations that is intercut every time the mad doc is seen operating on one of his future exhibitionists. Taubert probably found it somewhere and knew he just had to use it, somehow, and then the bro in the hospital was just an unexpected extra.
Regardless of the true sequence of inspirational events, the film would probably be "better" without the operation footage. It undeniably serves its purpose, which is to shock and repulse and push boundaries, but it also seems oddly unneeded and, unbelievably enough, clashes with the bloody but childish glee and general immaturity of the rest of the movie. In contrast, the old-man flasher showing his grey-domed skin-turtleneck is likewise an obvious attempt to shock and push borders, but it is puerile instead of nauseating and is at least as groan-inducingly funny as it is distasteful. (The Opa was far from a GILF, in any event.) The OP stuff does little but ruin the taste of one's beer and chips.
Ditto, unexpectedly enough, with the film's only notable female nude scene, which feels oddly dirtier than normal for Taubert's films (at least going by those films that we here at a wasted life have seen). True, the inanity of the situation and how it transpires is played for laughs, but it is shot like illicit porn using a woman who obviously did not want her face shown, thus it exudes an odd almost revenge-porn aura. (We like naked women as much as the next bisexual, but revenge porn sucks.) But then, the situation itself is a hard one to make funny: even filmmakers like Almedover are incapable of successfully playing rape for laughs, so it is hardly surprising a rapey situation in Exhibitionisten Attacke doesn't really work either. What is particularly odd about the scene is that it is the only breast scene of the movie, while Taubert, a typical heterosexual breast man, generally thinks that in film, "Tits are the most important thing. And there are so many [kinds]: big, small, middle-sized, real, silicon… and all of them have nipples. [ghostshit]"
Had, however, more breast been seen in the movie, this singular scene might perhaps not come across as so forced, so un-fun, so pointless. (Indeed, Taubert forwent a major opportunity by not having the four women singing and dancing during the consciously interminably long opening credit scene do their laughably bad singing and dancing naked — indeed, it a shame that the well-orbed but thespian-challenged lead female never truly gets naked once. There are numerous scenes throughout the movie that would've lent themselves well for her to gratuitously get her dress ripped off.)
A true plus point of Exhibitionisten Attacke is that at roughly 1:40 hours in length, it mercifully and enjoyably short (unlike, for example, the painfully long Pundelmützen Rambos [2004]). Without the OP footage, the film would have been both shorter and more fun. But as the "independent and 'amatuuuure'" filmmaker Taubert himself points out, "The best thing about our films is that you can go to the toilet while the film is running and you don't miss anything." Our suggestion would be to use the OP-footage to take a pee, get a new beer, concentrate on rolling that joint or doing something similar, and to enjoy the rest of the movie for what it is: the apogee of filmmaking inability, and a visual and moving illustration of a total lack of anything remotely professional, be it the mildest capacity to tell a story, act, direct, do special effects or gore, anything. Enjoy! 
Trailer to Taubert's most recent & professional film, Romeo & Julia, Liebe ist ein Schlachtfeld [Love Is a Battlefield]: