From Publishers Weekly
Milligan's greatest films were The Orgy at Lil's Place, The Naked Witch, Fleshpot on 42nd Street and Monstrosity (a violent, bloody rape revenge fantasy that was a cross between Frankenstein and The Golem). Shooting on budgets that hovered around $10,000, Milligan who turned out 29 movies between 1965 and 1988 was infamous; his movies were appallingly shot, often ludicrously plotted shock films that played in 42nd Street grind houses, drive-ins and avant-garde film festivals. No easy subject for a biographer, Milligan, who died of AIDS in 1990 at the age of 61, was drawn to (in no particular order) drugs, violence, s&m sex, misogyny and general weirdness. McDonough's verbatim interviews, which form the spine of the book, reveal a man who could be alternately brutally honest, obstructionist, deceitful and quite kind. McDonough (who has written for the Village Voice and Spin) is careful to add well-researched, nuanced context. His portrait of Milligan's importance to the famous Caffe Cino, for example, considered to be the beginnings of Off-Broadway, are startling, notable additions to theater history. Although McDonough is a loyal fan he even worked with Milligan's production team as part of his research he maintains a critical eye and provides a worthy historical overview of both the aesthetics and business of exploitative cinema. Students of popular American culture, film, as well as of gender and gay and lesbian studies, will relish this intelligent portrait. 91 b&w photos. Agent, Jeff Posternak/Andrew Wylie.
Copyright 2001 Cahners Business Information, Inc.
From Library Journal
The Marquis de Sade had nothing on filmmaker Andy Milligan, who between 1965 to 1988 cranked out a prodigious number of plays and 29 sex-and-exploitation films, many of which are now lost, with such sleazoid titles as The Filthy Five, Gutter Trash, Fleshpot on 42nd St., and Torture Dungeon. It would be (sl)easy to dismiss Milligan, who died of AIDS in 1991, as a grindhouse auteur, but that, as journalist and biographer McDonough so wonderfully and effectively explicates, would be an egregious mistake. Juxtaposed with Milligan's story, told with the help of a cornucopia of interviews, including trenchant commentary and extended passages from Milligan himself, are the colorful and significant tales of the developing Off Broadway scene, the birth and rise of the exploitation film industry, and that Ber-nude-a Triangle of "all sizzle, no steak" celluloid called the Deuce, or 42nd Street. Chock-full of movie stills, lurid poster art and advertisements, and some great excerpts from Milligan's film scripts, McDonough's book succeeds overwhelmingly in making the respectability case for Milligan. Undoubtedly, it will also lead many to seek out Milligan's work; may y'all have better luck than this reviewer had at your local video store. Clearly, this title will not be everyone's bowl of borscht, but it is enthusiastically endorsed for all large public and academic library film and American studies programs. Barry X. Miller, Austin P.L., TX
Copyright 2001 Reed Business Information, Inc.