genuine what, exactly?

Late Night Deep Cuts: Kamikaze 1989 (1982) Rumpelstiltskin (1995), and Plain Clothes (1988)

Kamikaze ‘89 (1982)

Imagine a world where the dystopian future is more of a fashion statement than a warning. *Kamikaze '89* is a Day-Glo fever dream, a West German cyberpunk oddity where everyone dresses like they're in a Kraftwerk music video, and police investigations feel like performance art. Rainer Werner Fassbinder, looking like a punk rock Columbo in his leopard-print suit, stumbles through a world where media conglomerates control everything, but nobody seems all that upset about it. It’s part satire, part noir, part avant-garde experiment, and somehow all held together by Tangerine Dream-style synths. Think *Blade Runner* if *Blade Runner* was made for $20 and didn't care if you "got it" or not.  

Rumpelstiltskin (1995)

If the ‘90s had a weird fever dream about *Leprechaun*, this would be it. *Rumpelstiltskin* is a fairy tale filtered through a greasy, straight-to-VHS horror lens, where the titular creature looks like he crawled out of a GWAR music video and talks like he just left a stand-up gig at a biker bar. It’s campy, grotesque, and filled with dialogue that sounds like it was written by a screenwriter who lost a bet. But here’s the thing—if you grew up on late-night cable horror marathons, this is the kind of schlock you *love* even as you cringe. It’s loud, obnoxious, and borderline nonsensical, but in a way that makes you want to rewind and watch it again.  

Plain Clothes (1988)

A forgotten relic of the ‘80s, *Plain Clothes* is what happens when Hollywood tries to make a detective comedy and accidentally stumbles into an undercover high school flick. Imagine *21 Jump Street* before *21 Jump Street* knew what it was supposed to be, but instead of cool cops, you get an offbeat detective in his late 20s pretending to be a teenager—and somehow nobody questions it. It’s got that weird blend of sincerity and absurdity that ‘80s movies excelled at, like it’s not sure if it wants to be a crime thriller or a teen rom-com. The result? A bizarre, slightly surreal mix of detective noir and after-school special, held together by sheer charm.   

Final Verdict 

These three movies exist in their own strange little universes, where logic takes a backseat to style, weirdness, and the unshakable belief that movies should *feel* like something, even if that something is “a fever dream on VHS at 2 AM.” They’re messy, offbeat, and wildly different—but that’s exactly why they deserve a spot in the cult classic hall of fame.