Andrea Bianchi and Gabriele Crisanti bring you...Le notti del terrore!

Andrea Bianchi and Gabriele Crisanti bring you...Le notti del terrore!

By Michelle Alexander

The late 1970s-early 1980s was a golden era in Italian horror cinema as directors such as

Dario Argento, Lucio Fulci and Ruggero Deodato were setting box offices on fire with the

most famous/infamous movies of their careers. At the same time, producer Gabriele Crisanti, noting the success of his fellow countryman, was determined to claim a slice of the money-making pie. Along with a small stable of regular collaborators, Crisanti quickly churned out almost a dozen low-grade potboilers which gave the target audience exactly what they wanted – blood, boobs and bush in spades. Plots take a back seat in favour of cheaply executed but  graphic jack-in-the-box gore scenes, gratuitous sex and nudity (often

juxtaposed with sexually violent deaths), and an all-round fetid, sleazy atmosphere. The

characters are often unlikable bickering oddballs who are hacked up off one by one, set to a

background of occasionally recycled locations and music. Always astute of the marketability

of his product, Crisanti rapidly turned out film after film with similarities, albeit on a much

more limited budget, to whatever what was in vogue with moviegoers at the time in the

horror and softcore genres.

 

Following the phenomenal success of Dawn of the Dead (1978), a steady flow of walking

dead-themed films  - mostly from Italy - rapidly followed, such as Zombi 2 (Zombie, 1979),

Incubo sulla citta contaminata (Nightmare City, 1980), Virus (Hell of the Living Dead,

1980), Paura nella citta dei morti viventi (City of the Living Dead, 1980) and Zombi

Holocaust (1980). Noting this trend, Crisanti promptly hired director Andrea Bianchi, whom

he’d previously collaborated with on the sordid exorcism/nunsploitation hybrid Malabimba

(Malabimba: The Malicious Whore, 1979). By utilising the apocalyptic nihilism of the

zombie genre and blending it in with their own misanthropic, perverse filmmaking universe,

the pair created a derivative but hypnotically strange undead saga. Bianchi and Crisanti’s

productions are also notorious for going where even seasoned genre practitioners wouldn’t

touch – pushing the boundaries of graphic gore and sex in the hope of delivering the nasty

goods to the spectators hungry for such thrills.

Le notti del terrore (Burial Ground, 1981) begins with a pre-credits sequence. Delving

into research at his centuries old sprawling villa, Professor Ayres (Raimondo Barbieri)

uncovers an ancient Etruscan tomb deep beneath its foundations. However, the professor’s

discovery also unleashes a horde of rotten, worm-infested and bloodthirsty zombies who

immediately devour the helpless man, accompanied by Elsio Mancuso and Berto Pisani’s

eerie electronic soundtrack. Cue opening credits, which the music abruptly cuts to some saxy lounge music that sounds composed decades earlier, and indeed it was – this particular music cue was first used in a 1963 film, Katarsis. Three couples, invited by Professor Ayres who is intending to show them the tomb, arrive at the villa. However they have no idea of his demise and settle in, awaiting his arrival. One of the couples, George (Roberto Caporali) and Evelyn (Mariangela Giordano), have brought their son Michael (Pietro Barzocchini aka Peter Bark) with them. Michael is not only extremely odd in appearance (the character is meant to be pre-pubescent – Bark was 25 years old at the time, but appeared middle-aged due to progeroid symptoms) but also in manner. He has a disturbing Oedipal fixation towards his mother, spying on her during sex and trying to feel her up. The main characters frolic around the villa, completely oblivious that the living dead are creeping up all around them. Before long though the guests discover the reason for Professor Ayres’ disappearance and are having to have to fend off the zombies, who, interestingly enough, have the ability to operate power tools, throw knives, and use battering rams to bash through doors. At one point they even disguise themselves in monk’s habits to ambush our heroes.  One by one the guests are slaughtered, entrails are ripped out and consumed and the body count piles up – until we get to a notorious scene which I guarantee will stay burned in your mind forever. Evelyn, one of the last survivors, is thrilled to see Michael is still apparently alive. In her delirium she fails to see he is well and truly a zombie, and when she sees him staring at her breasts she has no qualms about offering him one to suckle. “Just like when you were a baby...” But Evelyn’s ecstasy quickly turns to agony when Michael chomps down on her nipple, ripping the whole thing off. Mother and son are therefore forever reunited amongst the living dead, with the final two remaining survivors are also quickly wiped out.

While on paper Le notti del terrore may sound like an unimaginative, pointless, by-the-

numbers zombie quickie, Andrea Bianchi and Gabriele Crisanti have worked their dubious

magic yet again. The combination of truly rancid-looking, wormy zombies, the incest

subplot, and buckets of queasy gore create an unforgettably clammy, sickening, nauseating

atmosphere with an effective sense of doom from the beginning, managing to override the

typically atrocious dubbing, sub-porno standard acting - with the exception of Mariangela

Giordano, who gives it her all especially when she’s kicking zombie ass - and the absolute

minimum in terms of plot and characterisation. What differentiates Le notti del terrore from

other Living Dead-themed features of the era is that it has Bianchi and Crisanti’s trademarks

stamped all over it.  Unashamedly outrageous, audacious, with a shock factor that still packs a punch today, it utilises a simple formula (‘So Dawn of the Dead had blood and gore in it? Well we can do better that that – we’ll put ten times the amount of blood and gore in. And put in lots of hot naked women too!’) Script development is left behind in the slow lane in favour in the sex and violence elements, which are in fifth gear from the beginning. Special mention is also given to the wonderfully old world grand set location of Villa Parisi (which can also be seen in another Crisanti production, Patrick vive ancora (Patrick Still Lives, 1980)) and ominous electronic score  - save for the anachronistic jazz music. Le notti del terrore has its own unique appeal that makes it such a memorable film. It’s a down and dirty, endearingly inept and gloriously trashy zombie saga that those in the know should get a kick out of. All others should proceed with caution... and NO politically correct expectations whatsoever!

The Censorship History of Cannibal Holocaust in Australia

The Censorship History of Cannibal Holocaust in Australia

By Michelle Alexander

Ruggero Deodato’s Cannibal Holocaust (1980) was arguably the most notorious of the Italian cannibal cycle of films that were produced in the 1970s and 1980s. With its infamous footage of slaughtered animals as well as graphic depictions of rape, torture and flesh-eating,  the movie’s intensity is heightened even moreso by the then revolutionary device of the majority of the narrative being relayed as found footage artefacts. Unsurprisingly, the film ran into immediate trouble with international censors, including Australia’s Office of Film and Literature Classification (OFLC), who were quick to ban it. It would take over 20 years (and countless Customs seizures) before Cannibal Holocaust finally saw the light of day in Australia when it was granted an uncut DVD release in late 2005.

Cannibal Holocaust’s plot is thus: A rescue mission led by New York University anthropologist Harold Monroe (Robert Kerman) travels to the Amazon to search for a missing award winning documentary film crew. The team of four had intended to film a TV program on indigenous cannibalistic tribes whose habitat is deep in the jungle. Monroe locates one of these tribes, the Yanomamo. The Yanomamo people at first react with both hostility and sheer terror at Monroe’s presence, until he gains their trust. The village elder ‘gifts’ Monroe with some film cans which had belonged to the documentary crew. Upon his return to New York City, the anthropologist discovers, via the found film reels, the horrifying truth behind both the filmmakers’ disappearance and why the tribespeople were petrified upon seeing him. The crew, a cocky, obnoxious quartet, had been disappointed at the tribe’s docility. Hungry for sensationalistic footage, they decided to set up some acts by embarking on a rampage of unspeakable cruelty – burning huts of natives alive, butchering animals, gang rape - all filmed by their voyeuristic lens. The Yanomamo subsequently extract their own lethal revenge on the ruthless interlopers... 

An uncompromising no-holds-barred critique of the Mondo subgenre, Cannibal Holocaust is typically either revered or despised. Celebrated for being an intelligent, haunting, passionate, outstandingly shot masterpiece of cinema. Hated for its unflinching scenes of violence and sexual abuse and apparent ‘poor’ acting and ‘sloppy’ filmmaking. Whatever one’s views may be about Cannibal Holocaust, it remains incontestably one of the few films that questions awareness and plays with emotions.

Being a lifelong European horror cinema fan based in Australia, I have observed and documented the struggles of securing a legal release for Cannibal Holocaust in this country, and even being able to view the film without the Australian Customs Service interloping (pre-2005). Despite audiences having to sit through ropey, grainy, bowdlerized prints fully of jarring jump cuts, the Italian cannibal subgenre in Australia was fairly lucrative, especially when released in the early 1980s as rental video cassettes. Noting this success, Fox-Columbia Film Distribution submitted an uncut 35mm print of Cannibal Holocaust to the OFLC in May 1983. The film was promptly awarded “Refused Classification”. Fox-Columbia tried again in September of that year with a trimmed 89 minute version, but the Censorship Board would not budge with its initial decision. Arguably the OFLC’s decision would have been heavily influenced with the Video Nasties hysteria occurring in the UK at the same time – Cannibal Holocaust was considered to be one of the ‘worst’ films on the Director of Public Prosecutions (DPP) list. Another likely factor was the sexual content. Sexual violence alongside graphic gore was - and still is - a particular ire of the OFLC. 

Following the censorship board’s blanket ban of Cannibal Holocaust, local Eurohorror fanatics keen to view the picture after reading tantalising descriptions in essential tomes such as Phil Hardy’s Encyclopedia of Horror, Martin Baker’s The Video Nasties: Freedom and Censorship in the Media and Kim Newman’s Nightmare Movies explored other options, such as the thriving bootleg market. One of the best of these mail order outfits was Phantastique Video, who operated out of Melbourne’s north-western suburbs and specialised in banned and uncut dupes of all matter of horror, cult and obscure cinema. If one was willing to risk the draconian wrath of Customs, there was also the choice of buying or trading from a myriad of international operations such European Trash Cinema, Something Weird, Midnight Video, Cinefear Video and Video Search of Miami.

In regards to my own tracking down of Cannibal Holocaust back in 1996, I happily stumbled across this forbidden fruit in inner-Melbourne counterculture store Polyester Books’ stash of bootleg tapes. Needless to say I was shocked and stunned by Deodato’s brutal masterpiece. Being a horror-savvy and already cinematically jaded teenager at the time, Cannibal Holocaust was another dimension altogether. Its overall effect is best described as being on a super-fast, jolting in all directions amusement park ride – a combination of satisfaction, bewilderment and queasiness. The dupe’s muddy, blurry nth generation quality and Spanish subtitles only added to its devastating impact, giving it a ‘snuff movie from bedlam’ feel. 

More absurdity from the powers that be wore on into the twenty first century. In 2001 The Melbourne Underground Film Festival had intended to screen Cannibal Holocaust following a censorship panel debate, however the festival director backed down after police warnings of a hefty fine or possible jail term. Upon the release of the Dutch EC Entertainment DVD in 2002, many fans jumped at the chance to upgrade their scuzzy copies of Cannibal Holocaust, including myself. However Customs swooped, confiscating the disc I’d ordered from the USA. Rather than dealing with the red tape involved with arguing the case, I simply obtained the DVD a few weeks later via another avenue. 

Finally, in October 2005 the Australian Classification Board came to its senses, passing Cannibal Holocaust completely uncut with an R 18+ rating. The successful applicants were Siren Visual Entertainment, who subsequently released the movie on DVD in April 2006. It was truly a surreal moment to see, after over two decades of stringent bans and overzealous Customs seizures and raids, this much-maligned work of cinematic art sitting prominently on the shelves of retail outlets. To further add to this turnaround, Cannibal Holocaust was broadcast uncut on the pay-TV World Movies channel in 2013 as part of its “Films that Shocked the World” week. Advertisements for the screenings stated: “They’re the movies that changed the face of cinema. They’ve been banned around the world and have been the cause of arrests, court cases and protests. They’ve caused moral outrage and countless newspaper headlines. Now, over one controversial week, World Movies brings you the ‘Films That Shocked The World’ – all for the first time on Australian television”. 

There have been countless varying viewpoints over the years regarding the historical and cultural significance of Cannibal Holocaust, but one defining characteristic connects them all and that is the argumentative nature of the movie. Is it groundbreaking? Is it an important cultural document or a comment on a society bereft of morals? A remark on sensationalism in the media? The other angle sees the film as nothing but worthless rubbish, a wasteland of morally bankrupt filmmaking, offering nothing but sadistic shock value and completely devoid of any redeeming qualities. In hindsight, it appears that the Australian Classification Board were in unanimous agreement with the latter opinion for many years.  The moral questions raised in the film about the media and our bloodthirsty society since Cannibal Holocaust’s initial release have only been made more poignant through the passage of time.

Perhaps, in the post-2000 climate of hyper-sensationalised reality TV shows and instant gratification via one click or swipe, the decision makers on the board had an epiphany and realised the significance and place in celluloid history Cannibal Holocaust has, not only for the movie’s hardcore fans, but for all serious students of cinema.

References

 “Cannibal Holocaust (DVD).” Australian Classification, http://www.classification.gov.au/Pages/View.aspx?sid=vlxhzCmcM%252fsEgt0346tcTg%253d%253d&ncdctx=42RDtyHlCgsY2W67A9o32qn7QnMEwT1Y%252fkUpA7KhbBTITXnKO8bnJuMHOJVCWbnZ6cQbEjvY5QauhztRn755DQ%253d%253d.

“Cannibal Holocaust.” IMDB, http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0078935/?ref_=fn_tt_tt_1.

 “Cannibal Holocaust.” Refused Classification, http://www.refused-classification.com/censorship/films/c.html#cannibal-holocaust.

Koha, Nui Te. “Banned films to screen at festival.” Herald-Sun, 27th June 2001, p. 9.

A look at "Very Special Episodes" Part 2: Cherie Lifesaver - Punky Brewster

“Cherie Lifesaver” - Punky Brewster

Season 2, Episode 16

Original Air Date: 19^th of January 1986

To a contemporary viewer, the Punky Brewster Very Special Episode “Cherie Lifesaver”, which revolves around Punky Brewster’s (Soliel Moon Frye) friend Cherie Johnson (Cherie Johnson) getting stuck in a refrigerator and subsequently being revived by CPR, may sound like a bizarre and unlikely concept. However, children perishing from being trapped inside old-style fridges was not uncommon at the time of the episode’s original screening. In the US, the Consumer Product Safety Commission received 59 reports of suffocation deaths due to children, usually aged between four and seven years old, crawling into refrigerators and being unable to open the door from the inside. Although the government passed the Refrigerator Safety Act in 1956, requiring manufacturers to design fridges with a magnetic

mechanism inside the door, making it easy to open from the inside, many households, particularly in impoverished communities, still held on to their pre-magnetic latch design models. The passing of the Act was also the catalyst for mass dumping of pre-1950s fridges without removed doors for several decades after. Definitely a tempting hide-and-seek prop for bored kids roaming the neighbourhood, as is demonstrated in “Cherie Lifesaver”. In context with Cherie’s refrigerator mishap, the episode also highlights the importance of learning and knowing how to practice cardiopulmonary resuscitation (CPR) at any age. The producers took the issue seriously enough to send the young cast to CPR training. This realistic approach ensured equally convincing performances – during recording of the episode in front of a live audience, worried young fans were yelling “Oh no! Get her out!” during the fridge entrapment scene. Subsequent reports to Punky Brewster cast and crew about children administering CPR in real life emergencies after watching the show are a legacy of the chord it struck with viewers. Witnessing one of the series’ most beloved characters almost die remains one of the most lasting memories of old-school Punky fans – Cherie Johnson herself confirmed this: “I really had no idea that 34 odd years after it aired, people would still be talking about it. Like it has such a cult reputation.”

“Cherie Lifesaver” begins with Henry Warnimont (George Gaynes), Punky Brewster’s

adopted father, explaining to Punky how reliable his ancient refrigerator is: “I love this machine. It was built in the day when things were made to last.” He has no choice but to buy a new one however when it finally breaks down. While lamenting the loss of his beloved old fridge, Punky and Cherie mention to Henry and Cherie’s mother Betty (Susie Garrett) that they’re going to be learning CPR at school that day. The girls’ teacher, Mike Fulton (T.K. Carter), explains that it’s just as essential for kids to know the technique as well as adults. The students, including Punky’s other friends Allen Anderson (Casey Ellison) and Margaux Kramer (Ami Foster) go through the drill, practicing resuscitation on dummies. Allen doesn’ttake any of it seriously as he doesn’t think he’ll never need to practice CPR on anyone (“I just figured this is stuff for grown-ups”), so spends the time goofing around and marking smart comments until Mr. Fulton sends him to the principal’s office. Meanwhile Henry purchases a new refrigerator and temporarily leaves the old one in the yard while he waits for the Salvation Army to collect it. Punky invites Cherie, Allen and Margeux to her house after school and they decide to play hide and seek outside. Cherie sees the fridge as an ideal hiding spot, and stows herself in it.  Unfortunately she is unaware that the door cannot be opened from the inside. Henry warns the kids not to play near the refrigerator and that he is going to remove its door after it stops snowing – but it’s too late. Punky, Allen and Margeux go indoors with Henry to take cover from the snow, mistakenly thinking that Cherie is in the apartment. It’s only after the yard is empty when Cherie realises she can’t get out – she screams for help but can’t be heard. The others eventually realise she is missing and search for her, before Henry thinks to look in the old fridge. To his shock, Cherie is unconscious. Knowing the kids have been learning CPR in school, Henry tells Allen, who is nearby, to help Cherie. Allen has no idea what to do as he didn’t pay attention, so he rushes off to dial 911. On the way he lets Punky and Margaux know what’s happened.  Recalling their CPR lessons, the girls manage to stay calm and fortunately are able to successfully revive Cherie. Allen feels terrible and racked with guilt at being unable to help his friend. Henry consoles the distraught Allen by saying that he didn’t know CPR either, and that he should have removed the refrigerator door straight away. The episode concludes on a light note when Betty asks her daughter how she’s feeling, and Cherie cheerfully replies “Hungry”.

Although writer Stephanie Mathison is credited for “Cherie Lifesaver”, the genesis of the episode was thanks to then seven year old Jeremy Reams. A contest was held by the producers of Punky Brewster where children could send in their story ideas, and the best one would be filmed. Reams’ premise, involving the kids learning CPR in school, then finding themselves in a situation where they needed to use it, was chosen and scribed by Mathison. She and the show’s creators decided on the idea of the refrigerator after reading about the amount of fatalities caused by abandoned old models which could be only opened from an outside latch, often occurring during games of hide and seek. According to Joyce Fowler of the Fort Scott Tribune: “...the appliance or chest provided a deceptively good place to hide. When the door slammed shut, the tight fitting gasket on most of the appliances cut off air to the child. This, along with the insulated construction of the appliance, also prevented the child’s screams from being heard.”  Cherie Johnson praised Punky Brewster’s producers for aiming for both the show’s fans and cast alike to learn some valuable lessons about life, rather than the episodes just being throwaway entertainment. “The producers were so right on target, that not only did we do an episode all about the importance of CPR, but we kids actually took lessons on it and learned how to do it! So we were all like CPR experts by the end of the week. I think it’s so amazing that the producers cared that much and got us on board to actually know the practice rather than just do this Very Special Episode where it could have just been treated as strictly entertainment. Nothing like this happens now, producers don’t care about that kind of thing. They’d just wanna do their show and be done with it. The producers on Punky Brewster felt it was their duty to instil some life lessons not only for the audience, but for the cast of the show, which I think is amazing. There was a sense of responsibility.”

“Cherie Lifesaver” drives home the point of CPR being an invaluable skill set for all ages in the scene where Allen is sobbing and repeatedly apologising for not being to help Cherie because he didn’t listen when Mike Fulton was teaching it. He’s extremely shaken up knowing that his foolishness rendered him useless in this critical situation. In addition, the importance of the issue was not trivialised by having Mr. Fulton laugh at Allen’s annoying goofing off or playing along with his banter – the exasperated teacher banishes Allen to the principal’s office. Henry’s qualities as a soft-hearted, protective and paternal guardian, not just to Punky but also to her friends, are touching shown when he expresses his guilt over not detaching the refrigerator door immediately after moving it to the yard. Although not as obvious a statement, there is also a message conveyed in “Cherie Lifesaver” in that safety should always take precedence over sentimentality. For example, someone hanging on to their unroadworthy, highly unsafe rustbucket of a car solely because they are attached to it. Henry was not holding onto his failing pre-Act fridge out of financial desperation, he could have updated it many years previously, but clung to it for sentimental reasons, despite having to clear out ice from the freezer every few days.

As with “Just Say No”, Cherie Johnson has fond memories of filming “Cherie Lifesaver”. Regarding the filming of the refrigerator entrapment scene, she recalled “Physically doing the stunt was awesome! The first time I got into the refrigerator, the back was not off. There were two producers standing behind the fridge, the director and a stage manager and they bought me towards the fridge all together because they didn’t want me to be afraid. Now I was a tomboy, so I was like “Hey! I can’t wait to do this!” I mean this was one of my first ever stunts. I was excited. They told me if I got nervous they would open up the fridge, so we did it and I was fine, and when I came back to do another run through, they had cut a hole in the back. The stage manager said that he wasn’t comfortable with me being inside a sealed fridge, he was just not happy with me getting in there without a hole being cut out. So, while I was doing the scene, the stage manager kept asking me “Are you OK? Are you OK?” and I was like “I’m fine!” Now come tape night, the whole back of the refrigerator had been taken off, I mean this stage manager was just so afraid of me being in that thing! These adults that worked on the show really cared about us as kids.  While the audience was there, the stage manager was still asking if I was OK!” Johnson also credits the episode for forever ingraining CPR in her mind: “We learned so much from working on Punky Brewster. I had a baby recently and I got put on bed rest and I thought, “I should take up child CPR classes”, then I started laughing, “I know CPR from Punky Brewster!” But then I thought that I should get recertified. And my recertification was so easy because I knew it from doing the show those many years ago. It was like riding a bike, you never forget – thanks to Punky Brewster it was easy to pass my test!”

Both Punky Brewster’s creators and actors were moved upon hearing feedback of children being inspired to learn CPR, and in a few instances, actually utilising it. Johnson recalls: “There was a story where a little girl was trapped inside a fridge and her brother saved her by using CPR after he saw the episode, so that was amazing.” In a 2016 Mental Floss interview producer Rick Hawkins recalled: “That show aired and the best reward I ever got was a phone call we got the next Monday afternoon. A woman from the Midwest called to say her husband worked for the power company, had been electrocuted on the line, and had fallen to the ground just as some kids were getting off the bus. They had seen the episode, ran over, gave him CPR, and saved his life.”

Thankfully since the days of “Cherie Lifesaver”, refrigerator-related deaths are now

almost non-existent (although as recently as 2013, three children in South Africa perished after becoming stuck in an abandoned fridge when playing near their home). But for many 1980s kids who grew up watching Punky Brewster, hearing little Cherie Johnson’s unheard cries for help and weeping during her refrigerator ordeal was more than enough to scare them from venturing into dumped whitegoods for life. The episode’s effect was such that some young fans were even inspired by Punky and her friends to learn CPR themselves. I’ll leave the last word to the episode’s namesake, Cherie Johnson: “…people are still tweeting me about [“Cherie Lifesaver”] all the time [saying] “If Punky Brewster taught me nothing else, it kept me out of a fridge.”

A look at "Very Special Episodes" Part 1: Just Say No - Punky Brewster

“Just Say No” from Punky Brewster

Season 2, Episode 8
Original Air Date: 27^th of October 1985

While Ronald Reagan was declaring war on the Sandinista government during his

presidency (infamously, funds raised to fight the Sandinistas were raised from drug running through Columbia, Panama and other nefarious sources), ironically, First Lady Nancy Reagan was gearing up for her own war on drugs by founding the “Just Say No” campaign in 1982. Focusing on the prevention of substance abuse and addiction in young people, Mrs. Reagan kicked off her decade-long anti-drug crusade with numerous appearances on talk shows, well-publicised visits to drug rehabilitation centres, and frequently broadcasted public service announcements. She visited hundreds of schools around the country, giving talks to students and handing out T-shirts, stickers and badges emblazoned with the “Just Say No” slogan. Aiming to embed her message into popular culture, Reagan guest starred on episodes of Diff’rent Strokes and Dynasty as herself to promote the movement, as well as in the music video for ‘Stop the Madness’, a ‘We Are the World’-styled pop track with anti-drug lyrics sung by numerous music and movie stars. Reagan’s use of popular culture to spread the word was also a further effort to connect with children and adolescents – that young people would see it as ‘cool’ to say no if they saw their favourite celebrities doing so. In a 1986 press statement she noted: “Up until a few years ago there was almost a stigma in trying to speak out against drugs. It was unfashionable. It was illiberal and narrow-minded in our live-and-let-live society. Movies and television portrayed drugs as glamorous and cool. We heard about the recreational use of drugs as if it was as harmless as Trivial Pursuit. Even law enforcement was weakened by the moral confusion surrounding drug abuse. It was as if all the people who sought to fight drugs had to justify their actions.” 

One of the most memorable attempts by Mrs. Reagan to influence the youth market with her campaign is the Punky Brewster Very Special Episode “Just Say No”, which presents a frank and un-sugar coated lesson to its mostly tween audience on not giving in to peer pressure. “Just Say No” begins with the Chicklets, a clique of sixth grade girls unexpectedly turning up at Punky Brewster’s (Soleil Moon Frye) house. Punky and her best friend Cherie Johnson (Cherie Johnson), who is visiting when the group arrives, are surprised but pleased to see them, as both have been hoping to become accepted by the clique for some time. Emily (Alyson Croft), the leader of the Chicklets, asks to see Punky’s treehouse. Impressed, she then invites Punky and Cherie if they would like to join their “very cool and exclusive club”. Overawed, the girls immediately accept. Wanting to fit in with the group, Punky and Cherie try to dress ‘Chicklets style’ – bright layered clothing, plastic necklaces and bracelets, hair bows and makeup. They also adopt the gang’s exaggerated Valley Girl speak. But their efforts are gaudy and garish and their disapproving parents tell them to go back to being themselves. The Chicklets declare that Punky and Cherie must pass an initiation to become fully-fledged members of the club. Desperate to belong, both drink a nauseating concoction of raw eggs, mustard and horseradish with no qualms. However the girls are taken aback at the next dare. Emily places a colourful assortment of drugs in front of them (“just some grass, a few uppers and a little nose candy”) and invites Punky and Cherie to have first choice. Trying to hide their shock, the pair say apprehensively “maybe next time”. An annoyed Emily calls them “babies”, declares “everyone uses drugs” and storms off with the rest of the Chicklets in a huff.

In a dilemma over whether to do what the gang asks or stand her ground, Punky confides in her teacher Mike Fulton (T.K. Carter), asking him for advice. Mr Fulton explains to her what peer pressure is, as well as about the “Just Say No” movement, handing her a leaflet. With their confidence renewed, both Punky and Cherie are no longer afraid to say “No” to Emily the next time she pressures them to take drugs. They also no longer care about wanting to be accepted by the Chicklets and tell the group they’ve formed their own club – the “Just Say No club”. Kate (Stefanie Ridel), one of the Chicklets, is also tired of the peer pressure and sides with Punky and Cherie. The episode concludes with footage of real-life “Just Say No” rallies held around the USA (including marches lead by Soleil Moon Frye and Cherie Johnson), accompanied by a voiceover from T.K. Carter giving an overview of Nancy Regan’s anti-drugs campaign.  

“Just Say No” conveys both clear messages about the dangers of illicit drugs and peer pressure without being too overbearing or knocking the balance of the normal flow of the show off-kilter. Notably Punky’s adopted father Henry (George Gaynes) and Cherie’s mother Betty (Susie Garrett) have minimal screen time in this episode, presumably to avoid becoming overly preachy. Though some commentators have stated the notion of a gaggle of sixth grade girls decked out in the latest Esprit and Guess fashions of the time being drug pushers as unrealistic, it is of course not unheard of. It was, in fact, a clever decision from writer Rick Hawkins to show the audience that drug users can be of any age, race (one of the girls in the Chicklets is Asian) or background, not just the stereotypical emaciated, strung out, improvised addict begging on the street. Cherie Johnson herself stated “I had a conversation with my principal at the time in high school and mentioned that of course I had

done Punky Brewster and that he needed to bring in a kind of D.A.R.E. program into the school of a Just Say No campaign, just like we did in Punky Brewster. And he said that drugs weren’t a problem at our school because we were a private wealthy school. And I was like “Are you kidding me? These little girls here are doing drugs.”

Another significant life lesson the episode delivers is the importance of being yourself and not caving in to peer pressure just to be accepted and popular. That even if you lose favour with some for saying “no”, there will always be others who will support you. Henry and Betty emphasise the importance of embracing individuality when their daughters make their outlandish attempt to look and talk like the Chicklets. The girls take this on board and return to dressing in their own unique styles. Also, any viewer already familiar with Punky’s personality and values would easily predict that she would never compromise her own belief system to fit in with others. Punky is confident, strong-willed, and influential. The latter is demonstrated when the more uncertain, less self-assured Cherie follows suit when Punky refuses Emily’s demands to them to take drugs. It’s likely that if Punky had decided to take

up Emily’s offer, Cherie would have agreed too – fortunately Punky is a good influence on her best friend. Punky’s assertiveness also enables Kate to pluck up her courage and be true to herself by leaving the Chicklets, a clique she was obviously uncomfortable being around.

The performances from the young cast members in “Just Say No” are impressive; indeed as Cherie Johnson points out, their characters were not too far removed from their real life personas. “...I took pride in my tomboyish behaviour. Soliel Moon Frye...was like a child hippy. Soliel would get around without shoes and didn’t care about what she looked like, she was just so earthy and beautiful and free spirited. The little girls who play the in-crowd were older than us and were actually part of a cool clique that Soliel and I knew. We went to camp together and they were totally those kind of girls. Of course they were never into drugs and would never dream of pressuring us into doing drugs, but they were very much like the girls you see on that episode. They also really enjoyed playing their cool selves on TV and they also got to play out their roles in a real nasty and mean way, which is great for an actor because everybody loves to play the villain.”

The real-life footage of Soliel Moon Frye and Cherie Johnson leading “Just Say No” marches made a lasting and positive impact on both the show’s young fans and the actresses alike. Johnson looks back upon her part in the campaign fondly: “Soliel travelled for four years promoting the “Just Say No” campaign... I would be in Georgia and she would be trekking it around the US. Every weekend for four years, we lead rallies around the country. It was phenomenal. I think as a child I didn’t really understand how important the show was and how important its message of “Just Say No” was. I mean, I knew we were popular, because there were thousands and thousands of people on those rallies with us in the frontline. But fame was never discussed at my house. My reality in this situation was the fact that we travelled and made hundreds of friends and made that decision together that we would never take drugs or drink and never ruin our lives with that kind of lifestyle. It is such a lasting message. And I have carried that with me for all those years. People would stop me now and say “Hey I was at that “Just Say No” rally that you lead and I have never taken drugs because of it!” I get that all the time. All these people’s lives have been touched, and they are drug and alcohol free because of these rallies that came about because of Punky Brewster.” Johnson added: “Years later, a very well respected high profile actress who I will not name, was handing out what I thought were breath mints around set. And I was like “Oh yes please! I’ll have a couple” and she was like “No, no, no, not for you” and I was like “Why? What, my breath don’t stink?” and everyone on set laughed at me. Sometime later I found out that those breath mints were drugs, and they were all taking them, but “little Miss Punky Brewster” was not allowed to have any, because they were protecting me. And that was because of doing a show like Punky Brewster. It made me out to be a good kid, and I’m thankful. I would have put that thing in my mouth and freaked out!”

At the time of these marches, the “Just Say No” campaign was at the height of its popularity and recognition. According to The Ronald Reagan Library, by the end of the Reagan administration in 1989, more than 12,000 “Just Say No” clubs had been formed worldwide. No doubt the formation of some of these clubs was brought about by keen Punky Brewster fans. Although Nancy Reagan’s efforts in promoting the prevention of substance abuse certainly made a lasting impression and increased overall public awareness of drug use, the campaign failed to have a lasting impact on the statistics of usage and fatalities. It is most likely that the overly simplistic message of “Just Say No”, equally simplistic grouping of all drugs, from alcohol to crack cocaine, as the evil ‘Other’ (for example, a glass of wine or a joint being classed as equally destructive as heroin addiction) thus raising misinformed and unnecessary hysteria, and lack of solid drug education contributed to the failure of the campaign. In an age where drug use is generally glorified in popular culture and the mainstream media, the “Just Say No” movement is a quaint, and in hindsight, very naive throwback to a bygone era.

Likewise the Punky Brewster “Just Say No” episode has a charming naivety to it, though its message is strong, clear and to the point, and effectively conveyed by the talented young cast. One of the most unforgettable Very Special Episodes, it is certainly one that stays in the viewer’s consciousness, regardless of their opinion of its moral stance.