Produced by Ronnie Cramer (MP3 134407)
The Lost Tape
White Cross (recorded live at CBGB)
I Wonder Why (recorded live at CBGB)
Back Street Jane
Oh Jim Jones
Time Is Gone
Produced by Ronnie Cramer (MP3 134306)
Ronnie Cramer's Iron Lung reaches the Number One position on MP3's Experimental/Post Rock charts.
Alarming Trends' Time Is Gone reaches the Number One position on MP3's Grunge charts.
Feature-length documentary film featuring Christine Fetzer. Produced and directed by Ronnie Cramer.
August 22, 2001
Christine Fetzer rassles men for money on motel room beds in the on-the-road documentary 'Highway Amazon'--and no, it's not what you think. She JUST rassles.
By JOE BOB BRIGGS, Drive-In Movie Critic, August 22 (UPI) --
What demento would make a feature-length documentary about a platinum-blonde bodybuilder who travels the country rassling men in motel rooms, scissoring them between her legs, crunching them with her thighs, smothering them with her . . . well, you get the idea.
Oh, it's my old friend Ronnie Cramer of Denver, an inspired demento who's made some of the finest underground films of this century, including the classic 'Even Hitler Had a Girlfriend.'
His latest creation is 'Highway Amazon'--and before we even go there, I already KNOW what you're thinking. This is NOT a movie about a hooker. Christine Fetzer of Austin, Texas, is all about rassling, posing, demonstrating her Superwoman strength on various hapless males who pay for the privilege, but it's not really about sex.
Oh okay, she does perform in a thong bikini. And oh okay, she's been known to strap on a pair of six-inch platform heels when the mood strikes her. And yes, the men do seem to be in the throes of SOMETHING. Leave it to Ronnie to uncover an even stranger sub-culture of thrill freaks than you could find at a Cicero grindhouse in 1967. In those days there was no way for most of these guys to get in touch with muscular women who would pound their paunches and flip em around the room like sacks of lumpy potatoes. But now they all have--shudder--INTERNET ACCESS.
Most of the flick is Christine speaking straight to the camera while we watch a series of rassling matches and eavesdrop on her conversations with the guys who start calling her as soon as she hits the next town. (New Yorkers definitely live up to their reputation as being the freakiest creatures in the U.S.) Occasionally she stops by the side of the highway to work out with her free weights or do a little roadwork, but most of the time between sessions is spent applying makeup, icing down sore muscles, and talking to her boyfriend back home in Texas.
Christine comes off, in fact, as a likeable middle-class girl so entirely comfortable with her strange little world that her only complaints are about the occasional 'gruelling drives' and the random 'spooky' experience, of which there are remarkably few. 'About 80 per cent of them are normal,' she says at one point--and apparently those odds are good enough for her.
After five years in the biz, she's never been seriously hurt, and much prefers road-rasslin to the more mundane world of exotic dancing. 'Most guys wouldn't even start tipping until you got naked,' she says of her strip-club days, 'and meanwhile I'm really trying to get to a different level. Then they're just so LONELY. I think they're frustrated with themselves sexually.'
Well . . . uh . . . er . . . DUH.
Her current clientele, on the other hand, is so well-adjusted that they happily pay $300 an hour, $1000 for the whole day ("when they want to hang out and show me off, like a little muscle showpiece') to play World Championship Wrestling on a bare Beautyrest. 'This is, like, my main career,' she says. 'It's hysterical. I don't even understand what makes these guys want what they want. But I feel like I'm in my element. I feel pretty content.'
Many of Christine's clients weren't so contented with the idea of a documentary, so most of the tape is Christine TALKING ABOUT her encounters. But she's so easygoing and natural as a stoyteller that it's almost like being there-- and this may be one case where almost being there is better than, like, being there.
One mangled but intact body. Two breasts. Five drops blood. Thigh-crushing. Moaning. Leg-twisting. Bewtock-groping. Tummy-squatting. Neck-crunching. Roadside aerobics. One growth-hormone diatribe. Beach posing. Client-lifting. Stomach-punching. Hollywood Boulevard micro-skirt sequence. Gratuitous lap dance, sans lap. Black leather bikini Fu. Drive-In Academy Award nominations for Christine Fetzer, for saying 'They wanna be overpowered--they wanna feel your strength--they love having their head squeezed'; and Ronnie Cramer, the producer/director, for doing it the drive-in way.
Joe Bob says check it out.
Walneck's Classic Motorcycle Trader
Art by Ronnie Cramer
Watercolors of motorcycles, automobiles, landscapes, citiscapes, figures, locomotives and more. www.cramer.org/art
October 24, 2001
AngelCiti Film Festival
Delancy Street Foundation
San Francisco, CA
Screening of Ronnie Cramer's film Highway Amazon
Pink Floyd Tribute
Ronnie Cramer Iron Lung
EOL On the Heights
Poegs Through a Luminous Galaxy
The Trap Invasion of Mars
Quiet Mind Project Sluicy
Jimmy Stewart Requiem
Barzin Past All Concerns
Big Cigar Theory Big Cigar Theory
Ben O Solo Project Sunrise Drive
Tim Thomas Reminiscence
The Flair State of the Heart
Compiled by Christian Zumdick (Osnabruek, Germany) MP3 155708
November 29, 2001
6675 Hollywood Blvd.
Screening of Ronnie Cramer's film Highway Amazon