Hey kids, say hallo to guest reviewer and star reporter La Donna Di Prestigio, and pay attention to what she has to say about Walter Hill’ Wagnerian comic book Streets Of Fire…

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I only just got hit over the head with a shovel with the understanding that subconsciously (or not), Streets of Fire is responsible for atleast 80% of my sentimental education. I tend to attribute the remaining 20% to Roxanne and Some Kind of Wonderful, depending on the mood. If my idea of romance is - to this day - imagining someone walking around wearing a sullen (or mopey, or brooding) expression and suddenly bursting into song trying to lure in their humble abode beautiful strangers as sullen mopey and brooding, that’s its fault. Not Romance & Cigarettes’. No.

On a side note - how cute and totally adorable were these trailers? How totally clueless were we, the viewers? In that these things were 2 and a half minutes long on average and were basically *the* movie, the whole story condensed, often with full fledged spoilers and all that jazz. Little did we knew, at the time: we could have kept our 7000 lire, or whatever the ticket cost, and waited it out until a BluRay edition came out, twenty five years later. What? No BluRay edition? Bummer.

So, we’re here, twenty five years later. I still love how this movie has it all. A desperate marketing move or just the Reagan-induced hallucinations of a whole nation, it is difficult to say. But do follow me when I point out that Streets of Fire is

- Purple Rain, with a lot more pussy

- The Warriors, with a love story

- The Rocky Horror Picture Show, with a lot less make-up (hello, Willem Defoe!)

- Gremlins, without the Gremlins

plus,

- For unknown reasons Rick Moranis seems taller for at least half of the movie (the second ever case of cinematography payola, everybody. The first being Humphrey Bogart’s in The Big Sleep. For everything in between, hell I was distracted by the Looney Tunes. Now shut up)

- This is the first lesbian flick I ever saw where lesbians are completely absent (Amy Madigan: you don’t call, you don’t write and you certainly are not preserved in carbonite. Couldn’t you just do what Diane Lane did? or Han Solo?)

- For years I believed Dan Hartman was an African-American. The real Millo Vanillo!

- And just how priceless is the evoking of Stevie Nicks throughout the movie - not just the musical numbers? Although she did write “Sorcerer”, and just the title was in retrospect a dead giveaway, Stevie seems to have inspired the costumes, the hairdos, even the Lindsay Buckingham lookalikes (yes Willem Defoe, I’m still talking to you. but also Michael Pare).

- Still speaking of soundtracks: a wall of shame for Ry Cooder. Or maybe not? Doh, there’s even Lee Hazlewood! Turns out this is an indie flick and we didn’t realize ‘til it was already too late and it infected our DNAs. Epic win, as they say.

“Let’s face reality. We’re all businessmen here. And businesswomen. Hi, gals.”

This fabulous teaser trailer for This Is Spinal Tap was - one guesses - intended only for theaters, but it sneakily manages to defuse any sort of expectation towards the film in question.

Director Rob Reiner, “famous television star”, only mentions Tap in passing, but goes all out - swearing, begging, boasting, cursing studio executives and, finally, caving in to their request (“you gotta show something”).

Chaos ensues.

Possibly the funniest teaser ever made, it speaks volumes about the Tap experience, and the cultish appeal it would retain even 20+ years down the road.

For a look at the actual trailer, go no further.

“With special appearances by Ozzy Osbourne and Gene Simmons of KISS!”

Whoever edited the 1986 theatrical trailer for Trick Or Treat didn’t seem to have a lot of faith in its staying power, considering that the booming voiceover hypes “Marc Price from Family Ties!” (aka, a background player in a contemporary sitcom) as the nominal star of the picture.

Both the premise (play a heavy metal record backwards and you’ll definitely hear something) and the main hook (Satan-friendly dead rock star reaches out to his teenage biggest fan) are on display, though, and the killer’s M.O. is more or less explained straight away (starts out possessing stereo / Walkman / amp, moves on to random electric appliances).

Three quick notes:

- “His fans won’t let him die. He won’t let them live” would have made for a better tagline.

- The only quotable bit from the script (“you should be loyal to your heroes… they could turn on you”) is put to decent use.

- I remember a slightly longer, different trailer being around, with a couple creepier shots (one involving a door being opened via the psychic electric blue glow of doom), but maybe my eight year old self was just working overtime to make up stuff.

Writer and metal rock enthusiast Fabio Genovesi notes that “it sort of has a point even in this day and age” - we’ll trust him on that.