Beyond the Valley of the Cleavage – Russ Meyer
Every once in a while a film-maker comes along who completely defines a genre. George Romero, David Cronenberg, Russ Meyer, Martin Scorcese, Quentin Tarantino. Spot the odd one out? Russ Meyer I hear you say. Surely not? Didnt he just make low budget soft porn? Well I would like you to set aside all memories of secretly watching his films in the small hours with the volume turned down and come back to his films with less of an eye on the flesh content. 
Far too many people either havent heard of the man or are of the misguided opinion that he simply churned out a bunch of mindless sexploitation flicks throughout the 1960s and 70s. Dont get me wrong there is no shortage of flesh in the majority of his work if that is what you are after, but to take that as his only offering would be to miss out on a whole universe of surreal humour, outlandish characters, lush, cartoonish visuals and some wonderfully bizarre techniques that have had a huge influence on many a more recognisable name since. For those unfamiliar, Meyer started making films early on, his mother allegedly pawning her wedding ring in order to get him his first camera. It proved to be a very good decision, as Russ became a newsreel cameraman in Europe during the second world war, some of his work later being used in Franklin J. Schaffners Patton (1970). After the war he left behind the moving image, shooting location stills for Hollywood and, unsurprisingly, several of the first centrefolds for Playboy magazine. It was the late 1950s when Meyer met burlesque theatre owner Pete Decenzie who took an interest in his skills behind the camera and, The Immoral Mr Teas (1959) was born. The tale of a false teeth delivery man and his peeping-tom antics. Think Buster Keaton in Eastman color, through the eyes of Hugh Hefner. Driven by a comically ignorant voice over narrative that at no point refers to anything remotely sexual. With Mr Teas creeping around ogling a group of naked girls sunbathing, the narrator offers you nothing more than some advice on the importance of sunlight for photosynthesis. 
The Immoral Mr Teas was released in 1959, and was unsurprisingly met with quite a lot of fist waving. The story goes that upon its first showing, billed alongside Gary Coopers western, The Hanging Man, San Diegan police burst in and shut it down only 20 minutes in. Not a great start for Meyer, but after waiting almost a year to get the print back, it was released once more in January 1960 to massive acclaim. $24,000 spent on production turned to $1,500,000 in Mr Meyers back pocket. Cant complain about that. The 60s were here and it showed just how much the times were-a-changing. A few years back the censors were outraged should a man and a woman be on a bed together without a foot each on the floor, now they were exposed to Russ Meyer, and whats more, people loved it. Each film must begin with me. I am the idea. Ive got to have the hard-on. And Meyer must have had a real rip-roarer when he reached what many consider to be the pinnacle of his career, Faster PussycatKill! Kill! (1965). Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to violence, the word and the act goes the opening line over a black background save for some intentional strands of breakup. Before throwing you into a frenetic montage of go-go dancers and fast cars. When Meyer said, Films should run like express trains! He was not joking. This was grindhouse cinema at its best, and a far cry from the frolicking themes of Mr Teas. Reverting to black and white, this was part of his gothic period. Three curvaceous, scantily clad women in fast cars on a quest of greed, lust and violence. A whole host of dumb, square-jawed men at their mercy. All framed by stunning photography and a thumping pace. 
Meyer really was an auteur in the truest sense of the word. Writer, director, producer, editor and cinematographer on the vast majority of his films, and he always utilised the profits of his previous film to fund his next. He also never failed to line his pockets in the process. It wasnt just where his name lay on the credits that made Meyer an auteur, he had some wonderfully individual traits that have been mimicked and paid homage to many times over the years. His use of montage sequences is unrivalled, and it looks to me as though the one in the final moments of Eve and the Handyman (1960) was directly lifted from the print and dropped over the climax of that famous sex scene from The Naked Gun 2 ½: The Smell of Fear (1991). Fantastic visual sexual innuendo with a car being put into gear, an oil drill bobbing up and down, a rocket lifting off, before a candle is put out. Then there is Tarantino, never one to shy away from a bit of plagiarism, and his attempt to capture the essence of Faster Pussycat with Death Proof (2007). As is becoming a recurring theme with Tarantino these days, he failed. 
It seems as though he spent so much time on recreating the visual style of the grindhouse movie, that he forgot that content is required. So in his homage he seems to have done more of a detriment to the genre. And a while back, rumours were circulating that Tarantino is planning a remake of Faster Pussycat. Im nervous. Russ Meyer is one of the most interesting and groundbreaking directors in cinema history, yet he is also one of the least talked about. He burst through the strict censorship laws that governed the industry and really helped the industry move forward. He showed the world that you dont need to have your ankles covered to make a respectable film, and whilst his tombstone reads, King of the Nudies. he really was much more than that.