Late Night Memories: Up All Night with Rhonda

Before you indulge in the latest edition of Late Night Memories, I want to share a quick note about this post. I wrote a version of it many, many years ago for a website called The Retro Network. Recently, I was looking up information on USA Up All Night, as I am wont to do, and stumbled across my old post at that site. I had not checked in with them in ages, but they’ve apparently rebranded as Geekster. I think? The url is still <theretronetwork.com>, so who knows.

I’ve written about my love for Rhonda Shear and Up All Night often, including here, here, and here at the Starfire Lounge (and, now that I’m doing this Late Night series, expect me to write even more about my favorite late night date). The Retro Network piece was one of the first though, and, for that reason, and because I never signed any sort of “You promise not to republish this post on your site” agreement with them, I’m now publishing a version of that post here, for posterity. Who knows what might happen to all of these sites I once wrote for, and I’d rather this post not be lost in cyberspace. I also wrote a few other articles for them all those years ago: The Pop Culture of 1989 and Batmania: Revisiting 1989’s Batman. Maybe one of these days I’ll revise those a bit and share them here, too.

A majority of the images used in the original article are now missing over at Geekster (clicking the now-blank boxes results in a “Sorry, the parameters you provided were not valid” message), so I’ve added some of them back here, but most of what you’ll see now are new images not used in the original post. I’ve also rewritten portions, lengthened and expanded it, made some necessary edits, and otherwise just cleaned it up a bit before re-introducing it as part of the Late Night Memories series.

One last note: when The Retro Network shared the original article on their social media way back when, Rhonda Shear herself saw the post and commented on it! She was enthusiastically grateful, and even complimented the writer (that’s me!!). I still swoon just thinking about it. Alright, enough preamble; heeeeeere’s Rhonda!

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If you created a Venn diagram of various overlapping youthful obsessions from my early teen years, perched seductively at the center of those overlapping circles would be my favorite late night date, Rhonda Shear. Thanks to her near-decade long hosting duties on USA Up All Night, she was as integral to my 1990s misspent youth as anyone. Along with Elvira and Joe Bob Briggs, Rhonda served as my introduction to the weird, wild world of exploitation cinema, cult horror, and B-movies. It’s a world I’ve resided in ever since, and I wouldn’t want it any other way. Rhonda was integral in moving me into that world on a permanent basis.

Many of us first discovered Rhonda here in the United States circa January 1991 while channel surfing, then stopping on whatever late-night B-movie she was hosting on USA Up All Night at the time. Rhonda split weekend hosting duties with the always hilarious Gilbert Gottfried (RIP, Gilbert)—Rhonda on Fridays, Gilbert on Saturdays. Up All Night was huge, serving as my introduction to such cult classics as Howling II: Your Sister is a Werewolf, Chopping Mall, Sorority Babes in the Slimeball Bowl-O-Rama, and Toxic Avenger, to name just a few.

Sometimes, on special occasions, the two hosts would team up together, which was always a treat. While I watched both nights religiously for most of the nineties, I’d be lying if I didn’t say I always preferred Fridays. The programming was great each night, but Fridays had Rhonda. Duh.

Rhonda combined jaw-dropping sex appeal with impeccable comedic timing. Obviously, Elvira is the Queen of that particular combination, but for a few years in the nineties, Rhonda was right there. Rhonda’s witticisms delivered directly to us the audience at each commercial break, never failed to make these already enjoyable exploitation flicks even better. For an audience comprised largely of red-blooded American male teenagers, it certainly didn’t hurt that she dispensed these jokes while rolling around in bed wearing lingerie or while joined by various B-movie scream queens like Linnea Quigley and Michelle Bauer.

If you didn’t grow up in the eighties and nineties, it might be hard to fathom just how hot Rhonda was at her peak, but she so perfectly embodied the sexual ideal of the era—big, heavy metal babe hair, bright red lipstick, cleavage for days, and tight clothing that practically seemed painted on her body (when she wasn’t just hangin’ in lingerie, that is). Up All Night eagerly exploited Rhonda’s era-defining hotness to appeal to the base desires of a largely male audience. These viewers were, and in many cases still still are, avowed champions of lowbrow trash cinema, and what Joe Bob Briggs declared the Drive-In Oath: blood, breasts, and beasts. Rhonda delivered all three Bs in the cult movies she hosted, but she also took special care to make sure her own mesmerizing breasts were front and center during most of her interstitial segments coming in and out of commercial breaks. To say she was a cheeky hostess with the mostess, who enjoyed teasing her fanbase, would be a major understatement.

It’s almost unreal how much the show got away with on a basic cable network, but its late-night time slot must’ve helped keep it under the radar. Sure, sometimes the movies’ more explicit scenes were cut down (or out) for cable, but Rhonda’s segments featured sight gags and dialogue that qualified as not only double entendres but often triple and quadruple entendres, too. One of the show’s stranger and seemingly organically generated recurring themes was foot fetishists writing in requesting more “foot action” from Rhonda. Seriously. This was a thing! Weird as it was, she and the crew clearly saw an opportunity for more harmless fun and happily integrated it right into the show’s mythology. The foot fetishists in the audience were in seventh heaven, clearly.

While I’ve always been more of a leg lover than a foot fan, myself, I certainly understood all too well the appeal of Rhonda and any one of her many bodacious body parts. Beyond just her dangerous curves and scorching sex appeal though, Rhonda’s effortless comedic skills and boundless enthusiasm for her hosting duties were a huge part of what made her such an icon for me and other fans. She seemed to be having a blast being everyone’s favorite late night snuggle buddle.

As I’ve noted many times and in several different nostalgic posts, I had a HUGE crush on Rhonda, one that hasn’t dissipated a bit in the decades since I first became afflicted. Oh, what an affliction it is! Back in the day, Rhonda’s teased out, big nineties hair, heavily applied makeup, and micro-minis might seem cheesy today, but you have to remember that was a look back then (see also: the queen of said look, Kelly Bundy). And Rhonda knew how to work it for maximum effect.

For all these reasons, and many more, including that iconic high note she hit on “Up” every time—“USA Up! All Night!“, Rhonda will always hold a special place in my B-movie-nerd heart. She kept me company late at night, at a time when my teenage social life wasn’t just pitiful, it was on life support. It might seem silly, but Rhonda felt like a friend—an extremely hot friend, mind you—who enjoyed watching crazy movies with me. That’s just how good she was at her job.

The significance of Rhonda’s ability to seem like a real-life late night buddy can’t be understated, especially for a shy, introverted kid who usually felt most comfortable being alone. But Rhonda was good company for that kid, and for millions of others, too. She helped turn a generation of viewers like me into B-movie maniacs. No question about it, she deserves a special place in the nineties Hall of Fame.

Rhonda and Up All Night are from a time and a galaxy far, far away—the nineties—when crudely juvenile sex humor was de rigueur. But Rhonda’s Skinemax-style entertainment was, and remains, so endearingly over the top that you really can’t help but love it, especially because the show’s tongue was always planted firmly in its cheek. At least that’s how I feel. I might be biased, though. After all, I spent most Friday nights hanging out and laughing along with Rhonda. That sort of connection lasts a lifetime.