Take It Out in Trade: A final dispatch from Ed… | Little White Lies

Take It Out in Trade: A final dis­patch from Ed Wood

04 Nov 2018

Words by Will Sloan

A hand holding a movie clapperboard with "SCENE TAKE SOUND" printed on it. The clapperboard has details such as "PROD. DIRECTOR CAMERA DATE" and appears to be from a film or video production.
A hand holding a movie clapperboard with "SCENE TAKE SOUND" printed on it. The clapperboard has details such as "PROD. DIRECTOR CAMERA DATE" and appears to be from a film or video production.
The cult director’s long-lost sex­ploita­tion com­e­dy is final­ly being released on home video.

In Novem­ber 2018, a long-lost late work by a leg­endary auteur will final­ly emerge. The film­mak­er was a mav­er­ick who oper­at­ed large­ly out­side the sys­tem, piec­ing togeth­er deeply per­son­al films despite his own finan­cial insol­ven­cy. In the film in ques­tion, he reck­ons with the new real­i­ties of Hol­ly­wood while work­ing in a sharply dif­fer­ent style. For fans and film his­to­ri­ans alike, this unseen work has felt like a miss­ing puz­zle piece. If only we could just see it – then, per­haps, an enig­mat­ic career might final­ly click into focus.

No, I’m not talk­ing about Orson Welles’ The Oth­er Side of the Wind but Take It Out in Trade, a recent­ly exhumed 1970 sex­ploita­tion com­e­dy by the so-called Worst Direc­tor of All Time”, Edward D Wood, Jr. Long assumed to have been con­signed to the land­fills that have claimed so many inde­pen­dent pro­duc­tions, the film will final­ly receive a home video release on 13 Novem­ber cour­tesy of the Amer­i­can Genre Film Archive and Some­thing Weird Video. A 2K scan of the only sur­viv­ing 16mm print will also screen in reper­to­ry cin­e­mas. Not a bad fate for a film whose world pre­mière was report­ed­ly at a top­less bar in Glen­dale, California.

Take It Out in Trade was Ed Wood’s first direc­to­r­i­al effort in a decade, long after the films that form the bedrock of his cult rep­u­ta­tion (notably 1953’s Glen or Glen­da, 1955’s Bride of the Mon­ster and 1959’s Plan 9 from Out­er Space). By this point, he was a seri­ous alco­holic who made his liv­ing writ­ing sleazy paper­backs (sam­ple titles: Death of a Trans­ves­tite’, Sub­ur­bia Con­fi­den­tial’, The Sex­ec­u­tives’). With­in a year, he would be mak­ing hard­core pornog­ra­phy. Though it emerged dur­ing Wood’s decline, Take It Out in Trade is live­ly and upbeat, and as imag­i­na­tive as any­thing he made – enough so that it can’t quite be dis­missed as so bad it’s good’. Just as the raw, ram­shackle The Oth­er Side of the Wind is the styl­is­tic inverse of Cit­i­zen Kane, there’s plen­ty in Wood’s film to chal­lenge any­one who thinks they know exact­ly what kind of bad film­mak­er he was.

For starters, it’s fun­ny – often inten­tion­al­ly so. Though made on the cusp of the hard­core rev­o­lu­tion, the film is in the spir­it of the ear­ly nudie cuties” of Russ Mey­er or Her­schell Gor­don Lewis, in which goofy guys made gee whiz!’ facial expres­sions at the sight of bare-breast­ed women. The goofy guy here is Mac McGre­gor, (Michael Dono­van O’Donnell), a pri­vate eye who spe­cialis­es in sex, and has more than a schol­ar­ly inter­est in the sub­ject (“Sex. That’s where I come in. Dead or alive, sex is always in need of my ser­vices. A ser­vice to which I sin­cere­ly apply myself whole­heart­ed­ly – some­times even in the day­light hours!”).

The plot begins when McGre­gor is hired by a wealthy cou­ple to find their miss­ing daugh­ter, Shirley (Don­na Stan­ley), who has run away to work at a broth­el. With an expense account at his dis­pos­al, McGre­gor embarks on a need­less­ly com­pli­cat­ed glo­be­trot­ting adven­ture, hang­ing out at whore hous­es around the world before grudg­ing­ly return­ing to the case. Wood has fun with his low bud­get, fre­quent­ly show­ing footage of a plane leav­ing LAX before cut­ting to a char­ac­ter stand­ing in front of, say, a Rome trav­el poster.

Sec­ond­ly, a half-jok­ing ques­tion: has any oth­er great black-and-white styl­ist so lusti­ly embraced the pos­si­bil­i­ties of colour? Like Wood’s sub­se­quent hard­core fea­tures Necro­ma­nia: A Tale of Weird Love! and The Young Mar­rieds, Take It Out in Trade, is a reti­na-blast of red shag car­pet­ing, gold cur­tains, baby-blue wall­pa­per and bright green dress­es. Styl­is­ti­cal­ly, it vio­lates a few dozen basic rules of film gram­mar (the edit­ing in back-and-forth dia­logue scenes is par­tic­u­lar­ly atro­cious), but Wood also breaks from the sta­t­ic com­po­si­tions of Plan 9 from Out­er Space, let­ting his cam­era roam freely around the beds and bod­ies of his char­ac­ters. It’s a chaot­ic visu­al expe­ri­ence, but it feels alive in a way that a lot of sex­ploita­tion films don’t.

The film’s biggest sur­prise, though, is that it’s actu­al­ly quite pro­gres­sive. For a sex­ploita­tion film from 1970, at least. It’s still a very male-gazey expe­ri­ence, and the many scenes of McGre­gor spy­ing on naked women caused dis­com­fort when the film screened at Fan­tas­tic Fest in 2017. But Wood is cre­ative enough to play a few jokes on that gaze, as in the scene where McGre­gor watch­es a shape­ly woman putting on a nég­ligée until she turns around to reveal her true iden­ti­ty. More to the point, Wood’s vision of Los Ange­les is also dot­ted with char­ac­ters from across the LGBTQ+ spec­trum depict­ed non­cha­lant­ly, includ­ing a trans­gen­der cou­ple and a drag queen played by Wood himself.

Man in a suit and woman in bright orange and green outfit

For Woodol­o­gists, this point is worth lin­ger­ing on. Though he had a famous pro­cliv­i­ty for cross-dress­ing, his oeu­vre doesn’t fol­low any straight­for­ward lib­er­al agen­da. Glen or Glen­da has been right­ly cit­ed for its empa­thet­ic depic­tion of sex­u­al diver­si­ty, but it also ends with Glen being cured” of his cross-dress­ing com­pul­sion through ther­a­py, and the love of a good woman. The film’s B‑story depicts the plight of Alan/​Anne, whose sex-change is accept­ed because she will even­tu­al­ly con­form to the gen­der bina­ry (“Alan had all his life act­ed the part of a woman. Now he is that woman and must learn how it’s done. Anne must learn how do her own hair, how to make the cor­rect styling for her facial contours…”).

Else­where in Wood’s work, the gen­der bina­ry is a site of pow­er and humil­i­a­tion. In the iron­ic coda of The Young Mar­rieds, a male chau­vin­ist who pres­sured his wife into group sex is forced into a same-sex encounter. In Love Feast, a Wood-script­ed soft­core romp, Wood’s lech­er­ous pho­tog­ra­ph­er is forced to crawl around in a dog col­lar and frilly pink night­dress, lick­ing the boots of the women who have turned the tables on him. Drag recurs in Wood’s pulp nov­els, which abound in erot­i­cal­ly-charged scenes of men pass­ing as women. In the con­text of Wood’s career, Take It Out in Trade is unique for pre­sent­ing sex­u­al diver­si­ty as sim­ply no big deal. All of which is to say the film is not for those who just want to laugh at it, and appre­ci­at­ing it requires appre­ci­at­ing Wood as a weird guy with a weird perspective.

It also requires appre­ci­at­ing Wood’s Hol­ly­wood – a colour­ful, some­times sor­did tapes­try where flower chil­dren, cross-dressers, junkies, madams and wealthy fam­i­lies all live with­in a few blocks of Detec­tive Mac McGre­gor. As J Hober­man wrote in Film Com­ment in 1980, Wood was a toad­stool at the edge of Hol­ly­wood, nour­ished by the movie industry’s com­post.” Beyond the cheap spe­cial effects, Plan 9 from Out­er Space has a Boule­vard of Bro­ken Dreams res­o­nance. In Hol­ly-Wood’, has-beens (Lyle Tal­bot, Tom Keene, the late Bela Lugosi) rub shoul­ders with LA nov­el­ty celebri­ties (Criswell, Vam­pi­ra, John Bun­ny” Breck­in­ridge) and wannabes from Wood’s entourage. None of these peo­ple belong togeth­er, and yet here they are in front of a pitch-black back­drop in a tiny stu­dio in an alley off San­ta Mon­i­ca Boule­vard. Wood’s Hol­ly­wood is best summed up by a line from his 1959 film Night of the Ghouls: This is the sto­ry of those in the twi­light time – once human, now mon­sters, in a world between the liv­ing and the dead.”

Wood died in 1978, home­less at age 54, two years before being crowned The World Direc­tor of All Time” in Har­ry and Michael Medved’s book The Gold­en Turkey Awards’. Since his redis­cov­ery, and espe­cial­ly since Tim Burton’s 1994 biopic Ed Wood, the exca­va­tion of lost” Ed Wood films have become a cot­tage indus­try. In the 80s, entre­pre­neur Wade Williams final­ly set­tled Wood’s unpaid lab bill for Night of the Ghouls. The 90s saw the com­ple­tion of Wood’s ear­ly short Cross­roads of Lare­do as well as a star-stud­ded pro­duc­tion of his last script, I Woke Up Ear­ly the Day I Died. His porn films Necro­ma­nia and The Young Mar­rieds turned up in the 2000s, and the 2010s saw the res­ur­rec­tion of his TV pilot Final Cur­tain and the apoc­ryphal Nympho Cycler. In 2016, the web­site cine​fear​.com even com­piled two DVD col­lec­tions of the short, hard­cope porn loops he cranked out dur­ing the 70s. For a cer­tain niche audi­ence, there is a bot­tom­less appetite for every­thing this bad” film­mak­er had to say.

Take It Out in Trade has been the most elu­sive of Wood’s phan­tom texts. In the defin­i­tive biog­ra­phy Night­mare of Ecsta­sy: The Life and Art of Edward D Wood, Jr’, author Rudolph Grey report­ed locat­ing a print, and wrote of its para-psyechadeli­cism and sur­re­al­ism,” but the film remained out of pub­lic view, and there was no guar­an­tee the print had sur­vived. In 1995, Some­thing Weird Video released Take It Out in Trade: The Out­takes, a 69-minute com­pi­la­tion of silent bloop­ers and alter­nate takes. It’s a frus­trat­ing expe­ri­ence, packed with strik­ing images but very tedious, and rais­ing ques­tions about just how all this stuff could fit together.

It was very con­fus­ing and sur­re­al, and I couldn’t stop think­ing about it after I watched it,” says Joe Ziem­ba, direc­tor of the Amer­i­can Genre Film Archive (AGFA) and a life­long Wood fan. It’s like see­ing some­thing that you’re not sup­posed to see, and it’s a piece of some­thing, yet it’s not a piece of some­thing. It kin­da gives you some insight into what the movie is, but, in a way, it’s also more exot­ic than the movie itself. You’re see­ing all the in-between moments, and you’re see­ing Ed Wood at the end in his amaz­ing flower-print pants direct­ing the movie. It’s real­ly thrilling, and it’s also real­ly bor­ing, but I watched it at least two or three times in the last 20 years.”

Man with long hair wearing a white shirt and blue belt, standing in front of a painting on the wall.

In 2014, New York’s Anthol­o­gy Film Archives unex­pect­ed­ly screened an unre­stored dig­i­tal trans­fer of Take It Out in Trade as part of a Rudolph Grey-curat­ed Wood ret­ro­spec­tive, but this one-night event did not lead to a wider release. A turn­ing point came in 2016, when Ziem­ba met with Grey and film­mak­er Frank Henen­lot­ter to record a com­men­tary track for AGFA’s Blu-Ray release of The Vio­lent Years. At the end of that record­ing, Rudolph was pack­ing up his stuff, and I was like, Can you tell me about Take It Out in Trade? What do you know about it? Where is it?’ He imme­di­ate­ly said, How much can you pay for it?’”

The print, it turned out, was sit­ting in a clos­et in Los Ange­les home of a producer’s son. Why did it take so long to get out? The amount of mon­ey they want­ed for it was, I think, prob­a­bly a deter­rent for peo­ple back in the day,” says Ziem­ba. And if Mike Vraney and Lisa Petruc­ci [of Some­thing Weird Video] weren’t going to put it out, who else was going to come to the res­cue? There’s no one else who real­ly knew the impor­tance of the movie and would han­dle it the right way.”

The price was with­in AGFA’s bud­get, and a deal was quick­ly made. We didn’t watch it before we scanned it, and the print was in real­ly beau­ti­ful shape because it had nev­er been seen,” says Ziem­ba. I was real­ly relieved, because a lot of the lat­er Ed Wood stuff, espe­cial­ly the adult film work… y’know, it’s not for humans. It’s real­ly hard to watch. I mean, Necro­ma­nia has a lit­tle bit of plot in it, but for the most part, those movies are more of a fas­ci­nat­ing time cap­sule of Ed’s work rather than a movie movie. With this, I was relieved, because this is an actu­al movie that feels like Ed Wood. It has his stamp on it. You can kin­da feel like he has com­plete con­trol on it, and he’s hav­ing fun.”

From a mar­ket­ing stand­point, AGFA’s biggest chal­lenge is repo­si­tion­ing Wood from the Worst Direc­tor of All Time” to an out­sider artist. We are in a con­stant bat­tle against so bad it’s good’,” says Ziem­ba. That’s just some­thing that we can’t stand and want to wage war against. Peo­ple that have that atti­tude going into movies are like bul­lies on a play­ground. We gen­uine­ly appre­ci­ate what he was doing – not just for his actu­al movies, but for who he was as a per­son. He’s a real hero for how bold he was, and the lifestyle that he had. He was just him, all the time.”

It’s a neat irony that Wood and Welles, two film­mak­ers on oppo­site ends of the auteurist canon, both have posthu­mous releas­es this year. But as their fic­tion­al meet­ing in Tim Burton’s biopic made clear, they were unit­ed by an indomitable cre­ative spir­it. Read­ing Night­mare of Ecsta­sy’, it’s hard not to feel a lit­tle moved by the sec­tion about Take It Out in Trade. Every­one in Night­mare of Ecsta­sy’ talks about his unstop­pable opti­mism,” says Ziem­ba. Even when he was an alco­holic, he was always mov­ing for­ward, always pro­duc­ing, always get­ting things out there. That feel­ing is in every frame of Take It Out in Trade. There’s an ener­gy and opti­mism that’s there, and you can tell it’s his.”

Else­where in the book, actor Nona Carv­er recalls, Ed went out to some clubs and he met some guy who want­ed to get hold of porno­graph­ic pic­tures. Ed says, well, instead of going out spend­ing mon­ey on these things I can make you a pic­ture.” And Kathy Wood remem­bers her late hus­band edit­ing the film while the bank was fore­clos­ing on their house: It was a cute lit­tle film which he cut and edit­ed in his den on a movi­o­la. It kept me up all night, prac­ti­cal­ly. He wasn’t real­ly mak­ing any mon­ey out of it, and he nev­er did.” Wood may have been a con artist, but he wasn’t in it for the money.

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