Escape from L.A. (1996)

“Escape from L.A.” has to be joke. Whether it’s on or with the audience, I cannot say for sure. John Carpenter’s sequel to the 1981 cult hit “Escape from New York” marks the riotously silly return of monosyllabic, one-eyed, not very bright, but ass-kicker king Snake Plissken (Kurt Russell, who also co-wrote the film) as he’s again dropped into a future hellhole American city with another do-or-die mission. The special effects range from mildly ugly to unfit for a film school entry and the music score is torture. Carpenter and Russell, though, take grinning digs at Los Angeles life, plastic surgeries as “House of Wax” horror, and –- best of all -- create a political satire more relevant even now. This America is in 2013, with a Jesus freak Virginian as president bent on exiling all “sinners,” with the White House in Lynchburg, home of the wrongly named Liberty University. Ken Cuccinelli could be this prez, if he’s ever given the chance. Don’t fret, righties. Lefties get the pole with a Che Guevara knock-off. Both sides, screwed raw in the back. Nice. The action is knowingly laughable, with Pam Grier as a *man* who can fly. Sort of. B-

Assault on Precinct 13 (1976)

John Carpenter’s cult-classic, >$100,000-budget action thriller “Assault of Precinct 13” is the parent to all “siege” movies that would come a decade later, including “Die Hard.” Itself a modern re-make of “Alamo”-type flicks, this also was to be set in the West, but Carpenter could not swing the budget. The bare plot: A mysterious pack of gang members attack a L.A. ghetto police station on the eve of its closure, trapping a stalwart African-American officer (Austin Stoker), several women, and convicted felons (including Darwin Joston) inside. “Assault” is a midnight feature that can play as a maybe-zombie film -– the gang members dabble with bowls of blood and are all but suicidal. Deep-thoughts: It’s a post-Vietnam American meltdown, or a satire on 1950s films that celebrated white heroics and all but demeaned blacks, flipped on its, middle finger held out proud. But the heck with deep anything, this is a blazin’ cool cheap “B” flick that excels its origins and is seriously nasty fun. The title, by the way, is infamously wrong. The besieged station is District 13, Precinct 9. “Assault of Precinct 9”? Hmmm. Na. “13.” B+

Halloween (1978)

"Halloween" is one amazing bloody flick, buoyed by director-writer John Carpenter's classic score (it rivals "Jaws" in simplicity and sheer mind-blowing coolness), Jamie Lee Curtis as a screaming teen and a silent unstoppable killer in a Captain Kirk mask. The film opens with young Michael Myers slashing his freshly sexed teen sister to death. The boy is incarcerated until we rocket ahead 15 years as the grown Myers escapes from the mental ward and returns home. Michael's psychiatrist (Donald Pleasence, never better at combining indignant helplessness and then rage) says his charge has the devil in him, and he ain't lying. Myers moves quickly and like a demonic robot, and with never a wasted gesture. He says only one word the whole film. Yet he owns it. Who cares if Curtis is certainly no teen, Carpenter's cheapy horror masterpiece takes dead aim at rural America's precious suburban dream. It is no accident that the opening title says 1963. It's the year America woke up to real horror. A

The Thing (1982)

"The Thing" is classic John Carpenter. Cheap, fun and nasty, it asks no more of its audience than to watch carnage rip a cast of characters limb from bloody limb. "Alien" in Antarctica, the Thing, or things, is/are a shifting alien presence that viscerates an isolated group of U.S. scientists, doctors and pilots at an Antarctic research camp. Kurt Russell is the stoic, fearless leader, with support from later '80s TV staples David Clennon, Wilford Brimley and Richard Dysart. Brimley is the standout as an unhinged pathologist. You'll never eat Quaker Oats again. Unlike "Alien," there's no character development. That's OK. This is quick, nasty, giddy, grisly fun and the frigid ice and air is as deadly as space. The highpoint has a man's head sprouting other-worldly eyes and spider-like legs as it crawls off his burning corpse. Props to the pre-CGI effects that still scare and Ennio Morricone's glorious score, which vibrates with high strings, low horns and pure dread. Gore galore, and a dark ending. Love it. A