"Ichi the Killer" (2001)

(Originally released as Koroshiya 1)

Starring: Tadanobu Asano, Nao Omori, Shinya Tsukamoto, Alien Sun, Sabu, Shun Sagata

First, the lowdown: A sadistic Yakuza tracks down his boss’s socially awkward assassin.

Whoah. I’m gonna start out by saying that this movie is not for the faint of heart. After being exposed to blood-soaked Italian giallo flicks and over-the-top Chinese viscera, I’ve become more than a little numbed to gore in movies. Ichi made me squirm during more than a few places. I’m impressed.

There are layers to the messed-uppedness in this film; it’s like peeling an artichoke only to find a live grenade in the center that explodes in your face. That being said, it’s hard to come up with a synopsis to this movie, but I’m going to try anyway.

We open with a trio of gang outcasts: Jijii, Saburo, and Ryu. They patiently wait in a van for their assassin, Ichi, to finish with his job: the execution of gang leader Anjo. Ichi confirms that his mission is over by giving Jijii a tearful phone call on his cellphone, and the three of them go up to the apartment to clean up. The apartment needs cleaning up because Ichi’s methods, while effective, leave quite the mess. (One of the men slips on a pile of entrails.)

The next day, Anjo’s gang tries to evaluate what’s happened. Jijii’s group cleaned the apartment so thoroughly that it doesn’t look like anyone died. The prevailing opinion given by Anjo’s superiors in the syndicate is that Anjo took the 300 million yen (about $25,000) and ran off. Karen, Anjo’s mistress (whose conversation flows between Japanese, Chinese, and English), mirrors this opinion. Kakihara, Anjo’s second in command, doesn’t think so and suspects that someone has either kidnapped or killed Anjo.

Jijii approaches the Anjo gang with a tip about the whereabouts of their boss. Jijii says that Suzuki, who works for a rival gang under the same syndicate, has been badmouthing Kakihara and holds a grudge against him for undermining a pornographic video operation. Kakihara has Suzuki kidnapped and tortured (including dumping hot tempura oil on him), only to be interrupted by Suzuki’s boss, Funaki. It turns out that Suzuki really DIDN’T know anything, and as a result the Anjo gang is thrown out of the syndicate. Now thoroughly pissed, Kakihara is determined to find out where both Jijii and the man who killed his boss is.

Takashi Miike has long established himself as a shock-film auteur. The interesting thing about how he uses gore is that it’s hard to label it as exploitive. There’s a lot of mutilation in this film, but the characters all take it in stride. There are very few reactions of disgust, most of Kakihara’s cohorts look on with professional detachment as he pokes and prods into yet another victim.

Line of the movie: “There’s no love in your violence.”

Five stars. All employees must wash hands before returning to work.

"Phantom Of The Paradise" (1974)

Starring: Paul Williams, William Finley, Jessica Harper, George Memmoli, Gerrit Graham.

First, the lowdown: It’s what Webber’s Phantom of the Opera would’ve looked like if done immediately after Starlight Express.

Frank Zappa once posited that if the world is going to come to an end, it wouldn’t be by plague, pestilence, war or natural disaster, but by all of humanity being crushed under an ever-growing wave of nostalgia. This exercise in sequins and eyeliner was the brainchild of Brian De Palma. Yes, the same man who brought Scarface and Dressed to Kill to the screen created this. Paul Williams plays Swan, the head of Death Records, a cornerstone of the recording industry (you heard it right folks, the midget with a pageboy haircut plays a David Geffin/Brian Epstein hybrid while sporting the Herve Villechaize collection). Swan’s current figurehead for his label is the appropriately named band The Juicy Fruits who are spearheading the 1950s nostalgia movement (but in reality look like Sha-Na-Na). After the Juicy Fruits give a saccharine laden do-wop number at Swan’s club, bookish songwriter Winslow Leach (who looks a little TOO much like Randy Newman) gives a solo piano performance to a barely responsive crowd. (The scene is pretty painful in that it points out why many songwriters don’t sing.) Turns out that it’s a passage from a rock operetta to the story of Faust (how original!) that Winslow has created. Knowing a “next big thing” when he sees it, Swan sends out right-hand lackey Philbin to dupe Winslow out of it.

Winslow, too naïve to hire at least 1000 lbs of lawyer before getting into any kind of entertainment deal, willingly gives the score over. After a few months of getting his phone calls ignored and being forcibly ejected from Swan’s office and home (the “Swanage”; hey, at least it’s not “Schwannstein”), Winslow finally gets framed for drug trafficking and put in the big house. Months of prison rapes and experimental dental surgery take their toll and Winslow goes berserk and escapes the hoosegow. His first outlet for his anger is the press house for Death Records. A few minutes into going “Winslow SMASH!” on everything, the cops arrive, Winslow panics, and he gets his noggin caught in a record press. Ouch. Our deluded sap managed to elude capture however, and slink his way to The Paradise, a new theatre of Swan’s design where he dresses up as an Elton-John-meets-Marilyn-Manson caricature. The opening number to said theatre is going to be based off of Winslow’s music with The Juicy Fruits singing it.

Enraged beyond all comprehension, our newly christened Phantom plants a bomb on the stage, which only seems to succeed in scaring the bodily waste out of people. Swan, on the other hand, being the intelligent dwarf he is, catches up with our erstwhile Phantom and promises that he will willingly buy the music and use it as written, if he lays off the killing thing. The Phantom relents, gets a synthesized voice box, and finishes the score while subsiding on a diet consisting entirely of uppers. Meanwhile, Swan has been auditioning talent, but instead of putting the underspoken siren Phoenix (who Winslow has a hankerin’ for), he puts in a reject from T-Rex with Peter Frampton’s stage presence: Beef.

Fed up with everyone, the Phantom inadvertently provides a climax to the Paradise’s opening (during a number that’s supposed to come off as Alice Cooper with KISS trimmings, but in reality reminds one of the Rocky Horror Picture Show) by killing the appropriately named Beef with a light fixture, which puts Phoenix into the limelight. And the rest I leave up to you guys; I’m still compulsively washing myself after seeing Paul Williams get it on.

Line of the movie: “I loathe perfection, unless it is in myself.” Paul Williams - EWWW!

Three stars. Have a nice day.

"Dead Or Alive" (1999)

(Originally released as Dead Or Alive: Hanzaisha)

Starring: Riki Takeuchi, Sho Aikawa, Renji Ishibashi, Hitoshi Ozawa, Shingo Tsurumi, Kaoru Sugita

First, the lowdown: Yet another John Woo-inspired gangster drama. Except Japanese.

For those who aren’t fluent in Japanese culture, here’s a little bit of something you should know before watching this film: Chinese-born Japanese citizens aren’t terribly well-treated in the land of the Rising Sun. In fact one person I talked to likened the Japanese attitude toward Chinese immigrants to the American attitude toward Mexicans. (Of course much of it can also be attributed to the fact that China and Japan have been enemies for centuries as well as Japan’s xenophobic history.)

The Shinjuku underworld: a wretched hive of scum and villainy in the heart of downtown Tokyo. While repetitive industrial music plays, strippers and escorts go about their business, and three Chinese-connected gangsters are executed (one of them while he’s sodomizing a street hustler in the john). The police are obviously concerned, the men were all Chinese-born and catered to the immigrant population. The Yakuza are concerned as well because A: they didn’t do it, B: they’re trying to make negotiations of their own with a Taiwanese drug lord, and C: whoever executed the Chinese bosses probably has the resources to go after THEM.

The police assign Detective Jojima, who has enough of his own problems. Things are tense in his marriage (so much so that his wife has started cheating on him) AND his daughter needs surgery because of a life threatening heart condition, but cannot afford the expenses (20 million yen, or about $170,000). After finding out that the Yakuza are equally confused about the murders, Jojima starts digging until he finally finds the culprits.

It’s a group of Chinese war orphans, ostracized by both the Triads and Yakuza, that have decided to band together and go into business for themselves. The first order of business is the elimination of their competition, which is done with brutal precision. However, taking down the Yakuza is a different matter, the Oyabun (the Yakuza equivalent of a Mafia “Don”) isn’t stupid, and has enough people and connections to make any assassination attempt difficult.

And it’s this point where things started looking rather familiar to me. Lessee, we got an upstart group of unknowns bent on taking out the “big guys”, a tormented police officer who loses himself in his job to escape his dismal home life; and an ultra-cool hitman with a stone-cold expression, trenchcoat, and wrap-around shades. Holy shit! It’s John Woo’s A Better Tomorrow, only with more gore. (And a LOT of sex acts that one usually only finds on the internet.)

This is my second movie by Takashi Miike and I’ve noticed that he has a Zucker/Abrahams kind of philosophy to filmmaking: If the last bit didn’t squick you, just wait a minute and the next one might. Which becomes very jarring when the movie shifts down a gear from it’s bombastic opening to a gritty detective drama, and then back up again. Unfortunately the last 30 seconds of the movie ended up completely invalidating it for me, but not so much that I’m going to tell you what happens.

Line of the movie: “But like they say – even a scarecrow keeps away the sparrows.”

Three and a half stars. I’ve got new socks on.

"Naked Killer" (1992)

(Originally released as Chiklo Gouyeung)

Starring: Chingmy Yau, Simon Yam, Carrie Ng, Madoka Sugawara, Wai, Yiu, Ken Lo

First, the lowdown: It’s chicks with guns. ‘Nuff said.

The first time I ever saw this film, it was an undubbed import, so while the subtitles were subtly Engrish-flavored, it still was a hoot to see. Now having rewatched a dubbed copy, I can say that it was an interesting argument AGAINST dubbing. All of the characters have annoyingly squeaky voices, and that in combination with the frenetic editing and quick pace of the action sequences can often set one’s nerves on edge. It’s kinda like when your 5-year old cousin got a “Tickle Me” Elmo for Christmas, that’s the only thing you heard for the next 6 hours.

Okay, rant over.

Spoiled daddy’s girl Kitty hates men, but likes their money. After avenging a woman she doesn’t know at a hairstylist’s, she ends up being pursued by the most ineffectual member of the HKPD, Tom: a man who was traumatized for accidentally shooting his brother and now throws up at the thought of drawing his weapon. One evening, she arrives home to discover that her bitchy stepmother has been banging a local stud, Cody, causing her father to fly into a homicidal rage. Father botches the job and ends up falling on the pair of scissors he was wielding. Whadda dope. Now REALLY pissed at men, Kitty stalks down the Cody at his place of work and proceeds to beat the ever-lovin’ snot out of him. However, she did not anticipate on the office to be filled with armed temps, and they quickly gain the upper hand. (As an aside here, what does it say about clerical work in China if one’s office is filled with fully-armed admin assistants and data-entry clerks?). Kitty manages to regroup, but not without taking one in the arm, and makes a strategic retreat. (Probably bemoaning the fact that she passed on that Louis Vuitton Kevlar set she saw in the mall earlier.) In her flight, she runs into Cindy, a Real McCoy professional assassin, who ends up bailing her ass out of the whole fiasco by employing physics-defying martial arts that we’ve come to expect from Chinese cinema. Seeing a kindred spirit, Cindy decides to take the snotty teen under her wing and begins training her on the deadly arts (aside from boot to the head, that is). After training for weeks, Kitty goes to work, only to find out that Tom has been crushing on her since he met her, the sap. Also, Cindy’s former prodigy, Princess (natch), has been vowing to sever all ties between them by any means.

As you’ve probably predicted, I’m not going to ruin the flick for you by giving you the end because I kinda like it. Yeah, the dubbing makes our main femme fatale come off as a bit of a valley girl (I kept waiting for her to pepper her speech with multiple “y’know?”s) This is an exploitive flick to it’s very core, but in a chiefly violent vein. There’s not much NAKED, but the KILLER part is played to the hilt. True Kitty, Cindy, and Princess all act pretty cheeky (and fondle each other A LOT), it’s also done subtly and done CLOTHED. Yet another thing that sets this apart from American cinema: over here there would be multiple scenes of pseudo-sex (with a possible full-frontal nudity shot) and the flick would’ve classified as an “Erotic Thriller”, whatever THAT means. So even though the theme of this movie is pretty naughty, and the dialog kinda on the double entendre side, Naked Killer only has one sex scene in it (come on, I know why you guys watch this crap), and barely any nudity.

Additionally, even though the focal characters are the embodiment of every Fanboy in America (minus the sailor outfits), the film doesn’t just typify one gender over another. Both male AND female roles are equally painted with broad strokes. If anything, Naked Killer is pretty equal-opportunity for a film whose main characters are gun-toting pseudo-lesbians. It is refreshing seeing a movie where the male lead isn’t there to protect the female lead (and isn’t ENTIRELY USELESS).

Line of the movie: “That bitch shot my ass off!” Trust me, that’s the least of your worries, Bub.

Five stars (subtitled), four stars (dubbed). In your face.

"Audition" (1999)

(Originally released as Odishon)

Starring: Ryo Ishibashi, Eihi Shiina, Tetsu Sawaki, Jun Kunimura, Renji Ishibashi

First, the lowdown: A lonely widower gets more than he bargains for when he holds auditions for a new girlfriend.

I’ve said it before, and I’ll say it again: I love the Japanese ability to turn up the WTF factor in cinema. But before I get further into that, I’m going to divert a little bit. It’s not easy being a single guy, especially if you’re over 35. Most people consider the middle-aged to be more paternal than attractive, plus usually by that age you’re long since settled into whatever survival routine you developed early on. We live in a society where youth is king (but not king enough to be trusted to do anything on it’s own, apparently), so it’s of little surprise that people tend to look at 30 and 40 as being “old”.

In a hospital room a man, Shigeharu, pleads for the life of his ailing wife, Ryuko. The doctors can do nothing however, and the woman expires on her bed just as their son, Shigehiko enters to wish his mother well.

Fast forward seven years. Shigeharu and Shigehiko have since recovered from Ryuko’s death and are back into a normal routine. Shigeharu, however, is starting to feel the emptiness of singledom. In a bar he explains his frustrations to his friend, Yasuhisa, who works in the same television production company as Shigeharu. Yasuhisa comes up with an idea, however: a production is coming up that needs a female lead, so he suggests Shigeharu pick through the slush-pile of resumes and help with the interview process. While scanning through the resumes a background story catches his eye. The applicant, Asami, had devoted 12 years of her life to ballet, only to injure her hip before she could attend a London dance academy. Her life’s dream shattered, Asami has been dedicating her life to staying alive.

After an amusing audition sequence, we finally get to see Asami in person. Shigeharu is immediately smitten by the soft-spoken woman and eager to talk with her. Yasuhisa, however is uncertain, something about the girl doesn’t seem right to him. Ignoring Yasuhisa, Shigeharu sets up a date with Asami. The day of the meeting, Yasuhisa tells him that the record company Asami being connected with has never heard of her. What’s more, the producer for that company Asami referred to has been missing for a year. Shigeharu is still infatuated and dismisses it. The date is a success, and further ones are arranged, but the more contact he has with Asami the more things start to appear out of place with her.

Now, by this point you’re probably wondering where the WTF factor kicks in for this film. It occurs pretty abruptly, so much so that I’m not going to go into too much detail. I know that I’ve spoiled the ending for many a movie here before (mainly because I’m trying to warn you against them), but as queasy as parts of this flick made me, I was far too compelled to watch than to look away. What I will say is that the last 20-odd minutes are something that David Lynch would be proud of (with a John Waters-like nod thrown in).

Line of the movie: “Words create lies. Pain can be trusted.”

Five stars. Please recycle.

"Beyond The Valley Of The Dolls" (1970)

Starring: Dolly Read, Cynthia Meyers, Marcia McBroom, John Lazar, Michael Blodgett, David Gurian

First, the lowdown: It’s another boob-filled moral drama courtesy of Russ Meyer.

Not being a child of the Sixties (hell I’m barely a child of the Seventies), most of my knowledge of that decade (especially the last three years of it) comes from the books and movies of the time. When it comes to movies ABOUT the 1960’s, I always feel like I’m missing something. Mainly, with the exception of the Woodstock documentary, there’s always something that makes it look overwrought and kinda phony. Then again, saying that movies are known for their accuracy is like claiming that the Last of the Mohicans is a solid portrayal of the Native Americans.

I’m thinking Jack Chick is a BIG Russ Meyer fan. (In case you don’t know who Jack Chick is, he makes those annoying church tracts you find in bus depots telling you how much Jesus loves you and that you’ll burn in hell if you don’t believe.) This movie plays out like an object lesson on the 700 Club, only with more nudity. It has been argued in the past that the only way for early filmmakers to justify gratuitous nudity and sex was to make everything a moral drama where the heathen nekkid people were shown the ills of their wicked ways. And considering how actively adult filmmakers were prosecuted in the 1970s by sweaty men in bad suits, any loophole at all needed to be exploited.

We open with Kelly, the leader of a Josie and the Pussycats-esque rock band (complete with a male manager who looks like Jim Morrison meets Kurt Russell in all the wrong ways). After a performing a disappointing set in a mid-western high school, she spontaneously decides to drag her merry band to Los Angeles so they can make it big. Along the way, she drops in on her long lost aunt Susan, who has inherited the family fortune (and looks about the same age as Kelly). Aunt Susan’s sleazy lawyer voices the audience’s opinion about how diverting large sums of money to a relative that hasn’t been verified is kinda STOOPID but Susan doesn’t care and instead introduces Kelly and crew to the swinging party scene that LA has to offer. After a montage of randomly spliced quotations from the partygoers (my favorite: “You’re a moonchild.” “And you’re a bitch.”), starring nearly every person who has ever been in a Russ Meyer flick (including the bug-eyed, slack jawed Princess Livingston), Kelly is introduced to the ringleader of this motley crew of paisley, sideburns and fringe: Ronnie “Z-Man” Barzell (who looks like a young, gay Jimmy Smits). He is intrigued by Kelly’s plucky band, and offers them a record contract. Meanwhile, multiple seductions take place: Morrison/Russell manager guy gets seduced by a Mimi Rogers-looking porn actress; Kelly gets played by local lothario Lance Rock (who’s portrayed by a gay actor trying so desperately to be straight it’s hilarious); bassist Casey shacks up with sultry lesbian Roxanne; and drummer Petronella falls for the only sympathetic character in the whole goddamned movie: Law student Emerson Thorne. Everything seems to go hunky-dory; with montages highlighting Kelly skyrocketing to fame, drug use, and lots of boobies. However, Morrison/Russell manager gets fed up with lurking in the shadows of Kelly’s glory (as well as the kinky sex from the porn star), Petronella nearly ruins her relationship by getting seduced by a philosophizing boxer, and Casey spends most of her lesbian life in a downer induced haze. After having his manhood challenged by the porn actress, our wayward manager goes into an Quaalude and alcohol-fueled depression and tries killing himself during Kelly’s television debut, only to end up paralyzing himself from the waist down. What a dope. At this point Kelly starts thinking that she may have been wasting her life in the Land of Make-Believe and tries to amend her ways. It’s a great flick and makes you want to find God.

Line of the movie: “Have you run an audit on her books yet? Or are you still screwing on faith?” Hell hath no fury like a gay Jimmy Smits spurned.

Four stars. May contain peanuts.

"Suicide Club" (2002)

(Originally released as Jisatsu Saakuru)

Starring: Ryo Ishibashi, Akaji Maro, Masatoshi Nagase, Saya Hagiwara, Hideo Sako, Takashi Nomura

First, the lowdown: A string of suicides in Japan sets off a trend more disturbing than MySpace.

You really have to appreciate the WTF factor in Japanese cinema. There are so many films out there already that have been created merely to get a reaction out of the viewer, but the Japanese seem to have perfected that art form. Having attempted to kill myself on more than one occasion, I thought it amusing how this movie presents suicide as a concept. I also wryly thought it appropriate that it came from Japan, a place well known for it’s high youth suicide rate. As a crowded conformist culture, the kids of Japan are always striving to fit in somehow. But sometimes circumstances prevent someone from being just like everyone else, no matter how hard you try. (I can relate on this point a bit.)

This movie addresses none of that. We open at a subway station in Tokyo. As a train’s arrival is announced a group of schoolgirls line up on the platform and jump in front of the oncoming train IN UNISON. The same evening a nurse and her coworker whimsically fling themselves out of their office window. The police are stumped at the sudden upswing in suicides. None of the victims of the subway incident went to the same school. A mysterious phone call from someone calling herself “the Bat” points the investigating officers to a website that represents all of the suicides as a red or white dot, BEFORE THEY OCCUR.

A white sports bag is found at both the office where the nurses killed themselves as well as at the subway platform. In side is an enormous ribbon of human flesh that has been stitched together. The medical examiner points out that it’s comprised of 20cm squares of skin from different people. Also the skin samples match the remains of the victims, but appear to have been removed while the victim was still alive.

The major flaw of this movie (and I’m willing to believe that it’s because I’m not Japanese) is that after establishing a pretty kick-ass premise, the movie goes nowhere. Which is not to say that it’s boring per se: the body count rises ever more alarmingly and the background music gets increasingly inappropriate (one scene has a housewife happily cutting off her own hand in front of her 5-year old daughter). But eventually everything comes completely unhinged and while there is an attempt to explain things at the end, it raises more questions than it answers.

Line of the movie: “There are several bodies here. We’ll pry them apart later.”

Three and a half stars. Praise the Lord.

"Cannibal Ferox" (1981)

(AKA: Let Them Die Slowly)

Starring: Giovanni Lombardo Radice, Lorraine De Salle, Danila Mattei, Zora Kerova, Walter Lucchini.

First, the lowdown: It’s those wacky cannibals in a new jungle adventure!

I dig cannibal movies. I gotta admit it. It takes a real actor to bite into a raw roast covered in grenadine and pretend that it’s been hungrily carved off some screaming tourist. This one stars veteran cannibal actor Giovanni Radice, who was in Cannibal Apocalypse with the indomitable JOHN SAXON! (Ironically enough, Radice played a cannibal VETERAN in that one. Yuk-yuk-yuk.) We start out in the Big Apple, where a Mafioso and his slimy Tom Petty/Martin Mull-esque sidekick blow away a junky. Before the audience can even say “What the expletive deleted?” we’re whipped ‘round to central Colombia where an anthropologist, her neckerchief-wearing brother, and their dippy coke-whore friend are traipsing about. Our anthropologist (who looks like Jeanne Tripplehorn with a failed perm) is out there to prove that cannibalism doesn’t exist. (Now this could just be a shortcoming in the dubbing, because as anyone who’s read up on the Donner party or gone traveling with the Argentinean soccer team can tell you, people WILL eat each other if the situation is desperate enough. What I THINK they meant is that cannibalism does not exist in tribal cultures. Which is also not true. Many of the aboriginal tribes in New Guinea use cannibalism as a death ritual.) So in order to gather evidence of this lofty claim, she plunges deep into the Amazon rainforest without even a thread’s grasp of where to go or how to communicate with the natives. After successfully marooning their jeep in a mud bog, the hapless morons decide that the best thing to do is go even further into terra incognito. Yup, real scientists here. They go hiking without worrying about food, clean water, shelter, or Deep Woods OFF!, but make sure they brought plenty of whiskey. After a while of hiking and bitching about their situation the morons three make camp; which gives the audience the chance to relive Mutual of Omaha’s Wild Kingdom by watching an anaconda kill a coati. Thrilling, eh? The next day, the kids run into the smarmy Radice and his sickly companion Joe who are running from a tribe of hungry cannibals in the mood for Manwiches (I’m just rackin’ the product placement here). After mumbled introductions and unnecessary dialog, our party just happens to stumble into the native village that Radice and Sickly Joe had fled from, but the only people who are there are the tribal elders, and they appear more frightened. (Or at least that’s what we’re told. The natives in the movie, while authentic-looking enough, are as expressionless as a granite slab.) Because it’s the only structure they’ve seen for miles, the morons three decide it would be a good idea to rest there. (After all they shouldn’t be afraid of a bunch of old people, right? Right?) Radice manages to seduce the dippy coke whore (like it was that hard to do), and then proceeds to manhandle the natives who had offered their mute hospitality. When he accidentally shoots a native girl it brings a tearful confession from his dying compatriot. Apparently the “real story” (as opposed to what?) is that the two of them were laying low for a while (and Colombia is such a great place to do that) after ripping off a heroin dealer in New York. (Remember the bit before where the junky gets blown away? Yeah, neither did I.) During Radice’s and Joe’s their stay, a native tries to sell them some high-quality emeralds. Thinking that rock hunting is a fun and profitable enterprise, they convince the native to show them where he got them. After being frustrated by days of fruitless panning in the rivers, Radice and his pasty partner finally give up laboring for wealth and come up with a better idea. Lacking in diplomacy skills, they lock up the women and children whilst their menfolk are out hunting, and torture the unwitting native rather elaborately. (Including castrating the poor sod.) However, the native ends up dying of his wounds just as the tribesmen return, leaving our hapless sods to run amok into the forest. Meanwhile, back in the present, the current group of muttering natives decide to turn the tables on the stoopid white people and imprison them in a pit; but not without graphically removing Radice’s genitals first. At this point the gears come loose from the movie and everything else is just a chaotic sequence of Radice writhing in pain, unnecessary animal torture (using REAL animals getting their REAL entrails extracted), scenes in the Big Apple which look like an old Kojak episode (and really have no point), and a classic shot where the filmmakers re-enact the vision quest scene from A Man Called Horse on the coke-whore’s breasts. My biggest complaint about the whole film is that it banks more on the shock value of killing live animals more than it does on the evisceration of the stoopid white people. Come on, the purpose of watching a cannibal movie is to see the palefaces get their sweetbreads sliced up by a gang of grinning pygmies, NOT to be subjected to a PETA documentary on the fur industry.

Line of the movie: “Why couldn't we have made it Acupulco, instead of this poison paradise?” Our blonde coke whore becoming more unlikable by the minute.

Three stars. Keep watching the skies.

"Battle Royale II" (2003)

(Originally released as Batoru Rowairu II: Chinkonka)

Starring: Tatsuya Fujiwara, Ai Maeda, Shugo Oshinari, Ayana Sakai, Haruka Suenaga

First, the lowdown: Battle Royale is back and this time it's war!

The book Logan's Run by William F. Nolan, opens with the following passage:

"The seeds of the Little War were planted in a restless summer during the mid-1960s, with sit-ins and student demonstrations as youth tested its strength.
By the early 1970s over 75 percent of the people living on Earth were under 21 years of age.
The population continued to climb — and with it the youth percentage.
In the 1980s the figure was 79.7 percent.
In the 1990s, 82.4 percent.
In the year 2000 — critical mass"

In the introduction of Battle Royale II we are first treated to a shot of the Tokyo city skyline, peaceful enough until a series of explosions reduces five of the largest buildings to rubble. The audience is then informed that two survivors of the Battle Royale tournament have banded together with anti-government terrorists, calling themselves "Wild Seven". Wild Seven has put a contract out on adulthood, in particular the Battle Royale Act from the first movie, and has been spending the last three years blowing the ba-jeezus out of anything that stands in their way. (Kinda like if Peter Pan and the lost boys were backed by Al-Qaeda.)

We then cut to a high school rugby match. Given the broad way that the camera sweeps over everyone, it's pretty obvious that these guys are going to be this year's lucky contestants. Unlike the first movie, where there was only a vague mention of the class's poor behavior, it's pretty obvious that there are more than a few undesirables in this new class. (Mainly because they look like rejects from 1980s hair bands.)

The movie progresses pretty typically, with the usual group of kids making a field trip (on Christmas Eve!) and being driven into the usual series of unknown tunnels before finally waking up with explosive collars around their next and being roughly shoved into an abandoned warehouse. This time things are a little different, the new teacher (Riki Takeuchi playing a CHARACTER named Riki Takeuchi) is even more crazy-pantsed than the one in the previous movie. When the kids ask what's going on, Sensei Riki lists all of the countries that the United States has bombed. (And I think he's missing a couple, actually.)

Japan is beginning to feel inadequate under the displays of military might that Good Ol' USA has been displaying, and with the recent series of terrorist attacks, the government is finding their own Self-Defense Force sorely lacking in manpower. So in order to make up the shortfall, the government has decided to "retool" the Battle Royale program. Instead of being a free-for-all contest to the death, the participants are pretty much drafted, with the goal of taking down the leader of Wild Seven: Shuya Nanahara, the main character from the previous movie.

The students are given a choice, be drafted or die. One student in particular, Shiori Kitano, knew of the new goal of Battle Royale and transferred into the class for an opportunity to avenger her father, who Nanahara killed in the previous film. When one student refuses, it is demonstrated that the explosive collars now work as a pair: since there are an equal number of boys and girls in the class, if one student dies, his opposite also dies. Also if the two students get more than 50 meters away from each other, the collars go off. After that display, volunteers were easy to come by.

Nanahara has holed himself up in an abandoned island off the coast of Japan and now looks like a bizarre cross between John Lennon and Shoko Asahara (the Japanese subway bomber). With his group, the Wild Seven, they have been strategically bombing metropolitan Japan to foment revolution among the nation's youth.

The students arrive on Nanahara's island by remote controlled boat and are immediately assaulted. In a scene that borrows much from Saving Private Ryan the first few moments are completely chaotic as the kids scramble under heavy fire, unable to shoot back because their ammunition hadn't been airlifted yet. After the ammo is dropped the students regroup and we find out that their numbers have been reduced by half. Shiori takes control of the group, leading them into a series to decrepit buildings that had been serving as the Wild Seven's Headquarters.

Once inside the Wild Seven discover that their new invaders are wearing Battle Royale collars and disable them with an electro-magetic pulse bomb. Nanahara then explains to the kids that they should enlist with him since they both have a common enemy: the grown-ups that put them in this mess in the first place.

After this part, the movie loses it's focus and becomes a series of soapboxing statements that really do nothing more than reveal director Kinji Fukusaku's stance on war, militarism, and the USA's bullying of everyone in the world community. The idea of "kids vs. grownups" is a pretty good one and fits in the vein of Battle Royale's overall tone. But here it's brought up as almost an afterthought. With the exception of a brief cameo appearance by Sonny Chiba (!), the movie is pretty much like watching a Ford Pinto fall apart in front of your eyes as you're driving it. And when you think things can get any more insane, something even LOONIER happens in the next 5 minutes.

Overall the thing I was disappointed in the most was the fact that the opening scenes of the sequel show some hint of explaining the gaping holes and loose ends that were made in its predecessor. But once it got full steam, the movie pretty much acted like the first installment never happened, but expected you to remember stuff from it anyway.

Line of the movie: "You aim, you shoot. Life is a lot like that."

Three stars. Now with more DOOM.

"Ogenki Clinic Adventures" (1991)

(Whoah! 20 of these already! Wish I had something better than this quickie here.)

Ogenki Clinic Adventures (1991)

Starring the voices of: Vincent Baggs, Honey Bare, Sadaj, Holly Bobbit, Wendi Talker, Brim Tease.

First, the lowdown: Freudian hentai, sans tentacles.

People often picture hentai (that is Japanese animated pornography) with young, nubile schoolgirls being violated by some deformed tentacled beast (like Ron Jeremy with multiple phalluses.) This description is not ill deserved, nor is it surprising. One needs only to look into Japanese mythology to find tales of diving girls being seduced by octopi; demons comprised of nothing but oversized genitals and feet; and dark lords who make pacts with evil forces to assist their manhood. However, not all hentai is tentacle porn, in the same vein that not all of Japanese animation is Pokemon. (In fact there is a genre of “blackmail porn”: stories that involve a character being blackmailed to perform scenarios that he/she normally would find squeamish or repulsive.) Ogenki Clinic Adventures is about sex therapist Dr. Ogenki, and his Russ Meyer-esqe, dippy redheaded assistant Aruko. Ogenki possesses an immense cock (which bears his likeness on its head), and Aruko is every Coop fan’s dream. Together they treat a wide array of weirdos: a blushing 18-year old who can’t ejaculate, and a man with a superhero fetish. At first glance, the storyline and characters seem quite western; a sex doctor with a bevy of unsatisfied patients, his large busted nurse, and nymphomaniac landlady are all the staples of classic American pornography. However, other areas are distinctly Japanese: an example story involves a weird Jungian exercise where Aruko’s brother surgically alters himself to look like his sister. There’s quite a bit of male transvestitism and submission in this flick, so if you’re into pegging, check it out.

Line of the movie: “Only until you admit that you’re a pervert can you be CURED!” declares an adamant Dr. Ogenki.

Three and a half stars. If it moves, kill it.

"Cannibal Apocalypse" (1980)

Starring: JOHN SAXON!, Elizabeth Turner, Giovanni Lombardo Radice, Cinzia De Carolis, Tony King

First, the lowdown: Three Vietnam vets come back home with a hankerin’ for long pork.

What can I say? I goofed up when I got this one. I was recommended Cannibal Holocaust and instead I rent Cannibal Apocalypse. Whoops. But anyway, Cannibal Apocalypse starts out deep in Viet-Cong jungle. A surprisingly fit John Saxon leads his rag-tag mob of GI’s to an enemy held POW camp. After firing randomly and killing enough civilians to fill their quota, they set fire to a woman running by. (Remember folks, Enemy Combatants are exempt from the Geneva Convention.) She ends up falling into the pongee pit two POWs are held in. After the body stops smoldering, the prisoners, having been fed as much as Kate Moss, start chewing up the body like a Rotweiller with a lamb shank. John Saxon ends up stumbling on the whole scene, and for his reward, a prisoner leaps up and starts chewing on him. Flash forward to the tubular ‘80s, John Saxon is now married to the hostess of a public access TV show (who lives rather luxuriantly for that kinda thing), and is plagued by dreams of the misbegotten cannibal Marines. Both of the liberated POWs have been institutionalized (go figure), but after years of regression therapy and Thorazine highballs, one has been deemed fit for society. Our “cured” cannibal wanders through a community college, where a feral pack of handballers (I’m not kidding on this one folks) are harassing a pair of spandex-clad coeds. After interrupting the handballers, our wayward loony goes to the local theater that’s showing a thrilling wartime drama that consists of nothing more than stock footage. (Yeah, that’s a good idea. Put the shell-shocked vet into a room filled with guns and explosions.) His enjoyment of the chaotically put together movie is interrupted by an airheaded teenager and her paunchy boyfriend (who looks like Beau Bridges as a college freshman). Forgetting all schoolyard conventions, they decide to start necking in the middle of the theater. This however gives fate the ability to prove that psychotherapy is an inexact science, so our “reformed cannibal” proceeds to chomp a bite out of the swooning airhead’s neck. Unfortunately, the loony didn’t realize that cannibalism is best left in the home, and thusly an angry mob arises. The cannibal vet flees to the local strip-mall, only to be pursued by the feral pack of handballers whose help has been enlisted by the angry theater mob. The handballers chase him into an abandoned flea market, where the vet acquires a gun and blows away one them. Finally the police arrive, but (exercising some actual police procedure for a change) decide not to rush him out, but talk him out. Of course this sits REAL well with our “reformed psycho” and he starts shooting at random. (In Grand Theft Auto game terms, he would’ve had a 4 star wanted rating and they would’ve started sniping him from a helicopter.) Meanwhile, John Saxon is playing with his toy plane in his backyard only to be interrupted by his Susan Lyon/Linda Blair-esque teenage neighbor. She asks to borrow a hairdryer, but is using the pretense to flirt with John Saxon. (Hey, who could blame her? He looks pretty damn sexy in this pick.) John Saxon cannot, however resist the phantom call of cannibalism and bites Sultry Teen on the inner thigh (kinky, no?). Mrs. John Saxon, on the other hand, has wrapped up taping her show at the Public Access TV studio, only to find out that “some nut” has holed himself up at the flea market. So she calls home to make sure that John Saxon isn’t the aforementioned nut (lacking in trust skills much, lady?) John Saxon is at home, but heads to the flea market anyway to talk the guy down. After a thrilling sequence of guys talkin’ crazy talk, the vet walks out and gets thrown back into the loony bin. And there the fun starts. Apparently the other veteran cannibal was still incarcerated and the sight of his partner sets him off like a gibbon with heatstroke. Taking a dim view of their chewing on the staff, the administrators of the fun palace place them in solitary until they feel sorry for what they done. Back at the police station, an officer who was bit by the cannibal vet at the flea market goes apeshit and tears out the throat of two coworkers before being gunned down by his boss. Mrs. John Saxon, however, is concerned with her husband’s weird behavior (like you could tell with a guy like John Saxon), and telephones his shrink. Dr. Shrink has discovered that the two crazy vets in the fun palace have a form of communicable cannibalism (and you thought having herpes was socially awkward.) John Saxon, fed up with his odd craving for flesh, goes to Dr. Shrink’s hospital for a complete workup. The doctor who examines him ends up getting his tongue ripped out by the newly infected staff member who was attacked by the wacko veterans earlier. Infected Coworker ends up freeing her cannibal brethren and they in turn team up with the indomitable John Saxon who has now given into his Hannibal Lector-like taste for sweetbreads. Together they make up an unstoppable crime-fighting force of cannibals, or at least that’s what the theme music would have you think. The police get the scoop on the escape by our ravenous quartet and eventually end up chasing them to the cleanest sewers in the nation (either that or they’re in Canada). And from there the movie comes to a grinding halt as the only victims turn out to be the cannibals themselves. (And they’re not ironic endings either, like being caught in a meat-grinder or shoved into a pizza oven.) Honestly if you want to call a movie Cannibal Apocalypse, make sure there’s an “apocalypse” part of it, guys.

Line of the movie: “How can a social phenomena like cannibalism be transmitted as a disease?” asks a puzzled Mrs. John Saxon. Find out the answer in next week’s episode.

Three and a half stars. It’s not my fault.

"Flesh Gordon" (1974)"

Starring: Jason Williams, Cindy Hopkins, Joseph Hudgins, William Dennis Hunt, Candy Samples, Mycle Brandy.

First, the lowdown: It’s the godfather of wacky porno spin-offs of popular films. (See “8 to 4” for further reference).

Tired of seeing hours upon hours of scratchy old serials? The poor sound quality, the moralistic melodrama, not-so-special effects, and rough-shod acting? Well, this movie is no less different than any Buster Crabbe vehicle that’s been released. Only there’s more Seventies-style nudity in it and it’s in color. Our movie follows the adventures of Flesh Gordon, an Aryan thrill seeker who wears fake jodhpurs. He meets our heroine Dale, with sexy results! Earth is being bombarded by a “sex-ray” sent by the horridly made up Emperor Wang (whose voice bears a strong resemblance to Dr. Forrester of MST3K). Our hapless heroes then bump into Dr. Jerkoff, a freelance scientist with out of control facial hair and an accent that fluctuates between Topal and Connery. He’s built a spaceship and they’ve mere days to save the earth! Well, not really, but it sounds exciting doesn’t it? It’s hard to make fun of a film that already makes fun of itself. Made at the dawn of the “porn chic” phase in the 1970s, this picture is pretty indicative of adult films at the time: a threadbare plot that only serves to show people grinding gnarlies, and dialog that is eyerolling at best and groan-inducing at worst. As a consumer of porn I have to say in comparison with much that I’ve seen, the production for this flick is positively LUSH. You have to remember that pornography is usually more budget-conscious than even the most frugal amateur director (“It’s too expensive to wait until night for this scene. We’ll do a quick re-write and put ‘em in the supply closet.”), so having an adult film that has not only props, costumes, prosthetic makeup AND stop-motion effects (with a segment giving a wink to Ray Harryhausen) is an oddity to say the least. (I kinda got the impression that the filmmakers neglected to mention to anyone indirectly involved with the movie that there was going to be sex in it.) Another interesting point is that the “pre-marital hanky-panky” that goes on is more of the softcore variety. (Do not expect to see penetrated orifices or liquid substances flinging about.) That aside whilst the softcore “pseudo-sex” going on is focal to the primary characters, several of the background extras used as nekkid window dressing are having Gen-U-Wine Coitus. I guess the director thought it added ambience. One thing I will point fun of is the fact that Rick Baker, who assisted with effects and “special photography”, eventually went onto more prominent pictures such as Close Encounters Of the Third Kind and Star Wars. Hey, we all need our start somewhere.

Line of the movie: “I’ve got the Power Pasties, and I know how to use them!” Dr. Jerkoff and – Forget it, you don’t wanna know.

Three stars. May cause diarrhea.

"Battle Royale" (2000)

(Originally released as Batoru Rowairu)

Starring: Tatsuya Fujiwara, Aki Maeda, Taro Yamamoto, Chiaki Kuriyama, Sousuke Takaoka

First, the lowdown: A classroom of Japanese students are sent to an island retreat, to kill each other.

This was one of a slew of movies that people kept telling me that I HAD to see (while waving their arms franticly). It was hard to look at this picture with an unbiased eye because I've had multiple people tell me about it AND I had already read a couple of reviews on it. So I'm kinda struggling hard to provide an objective POV here. I've also not read the book (or comic) that this was based off of, which I'm sure would provide with more insight here.

Here goes.

As the credits roll we're informed that in The Not-Too-Distant Future, the Japanese economy has tanked, giving them a rise of unemployment as well as juvenile delinquency. The movie opens with a swarm of news reporters converging on an area cordoned off by the military. The buzz is that the winner of the current Battle Royale competition has been found and is being brought out. A jeep pulls up from the distance and the media hounds swarm it, announcing that the winner is a girl this year. As the crowd is parted by the armed guards, we finally get a good look at our winner: a teenage girl with blood-matted hair and clothing; clutching an equally soiled stuffed rabbit, and smiling like a Japanese "oni" (demon) with braces on its teeth.

We then cut to the grouchy Sensei Kitano (played by Takeshi "Beat" Kitano with facial tick in full gear) exiting the classroom of the grade 7 school that he teaches at, only to have his leg slashed by one of the students. Soon after, we're told that he retires from teaching.

Fast-forward ahead two years. The students are now on a field trip, only to pass out on the way there. When the kids wake up, they find themselves in an abandoned classroom guarded by soldiers with machine guns as well as two new "students" of embittered mien. Shuya, one of our students, notices that they all have a silver band around their necks that they can't take off. Before having the opportunity to say "Whiskey Tango Foxtrot", Sensei Kitano comes into the room and tells them the score:

Because of the disturbing trend of teenage delinquency in Japan, the Battle Royale Act has been put through parliament. A 9th-grade class is chosen by impartial lottery and sequestered to a secret location. Once there, the students have three days to fight each other to the death until there is one student left. Otherwise the EXPLOSIVE COLLARS they wear around their necks will detonate. Kitano tells them that their teacher had protested the class' selection for competition, but to no avail. To hammer that point home the students are shown the dead corpse of their instructor.

Kitano then has them watch a straightforward, but demented, orientation video (hosted by a perky spokesmodel), telling them to pay attention. One girl decides to ignore Kitano's stern admonition and whispers to her classmate, only to get a knife in her skull for her defiance. At this point the class finally comes to the mutual conclusion of "Holy shit! They're serious!" Prompting one classmate to try attacking Kitano. This gives Kitano the ability to happily demonstrate the explosive nature of the collars on Nobu, the student that had stabbed him years earlier. After Nobu's head asplodes, the class is informed that if there is more than one contestant alive after three days: EVERYONE DIES. Also, to make things interesting (and probably to keep the kids moving) "danger zones" will be chosen at random and announced at regular intervals. If a contestant is caught in a danger zone when it activates, their collar will go off. Kitano then points out that there are two new "transfer" students who will be competing with them.

The students are then given a pack containing three days worth of food and water; a map, compass, and a randomly selected weapon. Immediately after being given his pack, one of the "transfers" complains about getting the wrong one and is given a replacement one. The kids are then sent out into the night and play.

It's an incredible setup that's made all the more real by having Gen-U-Wine teens play students (as opposed to the American movie habit of having actors in their late 20s pretending that they're a Junior Varsity footballer). The scenario only ends up escalating as some students refrain from killing (either out of fear or denial) whilst others take up predatory roles all TOO readily. Cliques end up crumbling under fears of betrayal, friendships end in sweet suicide, and rivalries are taken to a monstrous extreme.

That being said, there are a few problems I had with the movie. None of the students has heard of the Battle Royale Act, which I guess is supposed to be indicative of how selfishly clueless these damn kids are these days, especially about politics that affect them. That being said, aside from a vague "separating the wheat from the chaff"-type philosophy, there isn't any OTHER explanation for WHY this act was put into place. True, Nobu's random act of violence against a teacher would be considered heinous when put into context of Japanese behavior. But it's an isolated act. One bad apple is not really indicative of the entire bunch and most of the other kids seem pretty level-headed (at least at FIRST.)

Also, no reward or goal is mentioned for the contest. There are some rumors (a kid starts blasting his schoolmates while raving about getting into a good school if he wins), but ultimately we're not told what happens to the winner. And what of the adult involvement? For an event that provoked a media frenzy over a previous winner, apparently this year's event is given sparse coverage. Personally, I thought it would've been neat if there was a betting pool or ESPN-like game reporting, etc. Sensei Kitano's involvement is also never explained at all, though you start feeling kinda sad for him toward the movie. Another interesting point that is mentioned (which supports the betting pool idea) is that of the "transfers", one is there to fix the outcome, the other is there FOR FUN. Both of which support the idea that SOMETHING COOL must happen to the winner, but we're never told WHAT if anything.

All in all, it's a great movie that doesn't pull very many punches when it comes to kids and violence. Which is something I've always wondered why American filmmakers are so squeamish about. Minors are rarely victims of violence (or perpetrators for that matter) in American cinema, yet in the "real world" the exact opposite is true. I keep hearing whatever cinema auteur blithely saying that they strive for realism in their movies, but for some reason kids have an Underage Death Exemption Card in the screen. (This is not saying that I LIKE watching kids get mutilated, butchered, etc. But there are moments in several films where American nervously shy away from a point that foreign filmmakers aren't afraid to make.)

Line of the movie: "I just didn't want to be a loser anymore" And you thought YOU were socially awkward.

Four and a half stars. For external use only.

"Fritz The Cat" (1972)

Starring the voices of: Skip Hinnant, Rosetta LeNoire, John McCurry, Phil Seuling.

First, the lowdown: An animated feature of an underground comic that should’ve stayed underground.

I have to shamefacedly admit that I’m not terribly read up on Robert Crumb. To further expose my lack of knowledge, I’ve only read excerpts of the Fritz The Cat comic. Most of my knowledge about Crumb actually comes from “Crumb” the documentary about him. From what I’ve read, Crumb hates this movie and isn’t terribly crazy about the notoriety that he’s gained from it. People who wouldn’t have bothered reading independent comics are now acting as instant “biggest fans” all because some enterprising lad decided to make an animation adaptation of one of Crumb’s works. So really, I can’t blame him. The comic was intended to be a poke in the eye to all of the wannabe’s in the sixties counter culture movement. Bakshi approached it with the best of intentions, (and actually it’s somewhat faithful to it), but people were more interested in watching a cartoon that had fucking and drug use in it. So the message (if there was any to be had) kinda got lost. Instead of people seeing it as a scathing satire of college life in the 1960’s, the emphasis seemed to be more on the drug use and anthropomorphic animals copulating everywhere. (In this aspect it’s kinda like Hunter S Thompson writing about a furry convention.) In a nutshell, the movie follows the misadventures of Fritz, a college dropout who is sick of the “scene” and the hypocrisy in the world around him. When an orgy turns into a failed drug bust, Fritz flees and “goes underground” (even though during the sixties you could get hassled by the police just by telling them you’re a college student.) Along the way he does a LOT of weed, hangs around with black people just to prove that he’s cool, and generally makes an ass of himself. In a way this character reminds me of a lot of people I’ve encountered who think that just by acting weird and using a contraband substance, it makes them an artist. If that were true, I would be listing this website and my NyQuil addiction on my resume. There are quite a few jabs made at the expense of hipsters, but they seem to pull a few punches that the comic was not afraid to throw and overall the tone of the movie seems exploitive than satiric. Jesus, I’m sounding like a genuine film critic. Somebody shoot me. One thing I will give Mr. Bakshi: at least this one doesn’t rely on as much “found footage” for animation stock as Wizards or American Pop did. If anything, I recommend this flick for teenagers who want to shock their parents and sorta (I guess) learn about that volume of American Mythology that is The Sixties.

Line of the move: “I’m a failure as a pot smoker.” Yeah, pretty much sums it up.

Three and a half stars. Lather, rinse, repeat.

"Mudhoney" (1965)

(Get ready for a two-fer today)

Starring: Hal Hopper, Antoinette Christiani, John Furlong, Rena Horton, Princess Livingston, Lorna Maitland.

First, the lowdown: It’s Russ Meyer in all his hellfire and brimstone.

One of the things I always like about Russ Meyer is how he frames his shots. There are quite a few arty scenes in this flick, which is about standard fare for Mr. Meyer. We open with a demented cross between Jim Bakkus and Orville Reddenbacker, who drives a beat up truck and takes meticulous care of his Tony Lamas. He proceeds to kick down the door to the run-down abode of his wife, Hannah; and, without plying her with flowers or booze, rapes her. We cut to Calif McKinney, a drifting ex-con who has the hygiene of a Mormon missionary. He wanders into a suspiciously Californian-looking stretch of Missouri looking for work, and the first thing he runs into is the silent Rena Horten, in trademark open blouse. Rena immediately takes a likin’ to Calif and it looks like naked sweaty things might ensue when we’re jolted back to sobered reality by her bug-eyed, gape-mouthed mother Maggie (as portrayed by infamous Princess Livingston, and if you have difficulty staying awake during the day, just think about her horrid countenance: your sleep will retard for weeks.) Maggie runs one of those houses of ill repute, as they say, with daughter Rena, other daughter Clara Belle, and some guy who looks like Fidel Castro cast as an extra in Green Acres. Because Calif is looking for “work,” he presses on to the Brenshaw farm: owned by, you guessed it, Mr. Tony Lamas and his wife Hannah. Because Tony Lamas is too busy boozing and whoring (which appear to be about the only two things you can actually do in this town), Hannah is left to run the farm with her sickly Uncle. Calif applies for help and is welcomed in, albeit reluctantly: apparently Tony Lamas has an aversion to agricultural efficiency and has bullied or intimidated every hired hand they’ve had. True to his word, Tony Lamas begins needling at Calif while he’s working, even though Calif has easy access to a weapon. (One particularly annoying scene involves Calif digging a hole with a pickax. I don’t know about you, but if I were there, Tony Lamas would’ve been walking away with a sucking chest wound.) Try as the audience might to sympathize with the situation, we see what a wuss Calif is, as Tony Lamas wails on him like a Shriner after a case of Thunderbird. It’s kinda hard to get behind a protagonist who can’t take a punch from a septuagenarian, especially one as whiny and emaciated as Tony Lamas. The sickly Uncle finally ends up dying and leaving the farm to Calif, severely cheesing off Tony Lamas. Tony Lamas enlists in the help of the local Fire ‘N Brimstone preacher, Brother Hanson, to stir trouble among the folk in town to turn ‘em agin’ Calif. Having been exposed to small town culture in my life, small town folks really don’t have much better to do than rumor and brood about something. Things eventually end up with a fiery lynching in the end, but the image I will keep with me forever from this movie is Rena Horton lying in the shade and playing with a black kitten.

Line of the movie: “This town’s always gotta have something to hate.” Sickly Uncle giving some sage advice.

Three stars. Not responsible for theft.

"The Story of Qiu Jiu" (1992)

(Originally released as Qiu Ju da guan si)

Starring: Gong Li, Liu Peiqi, Yang Liuchun, Lei Queshen, Ge Zhijun

First, the lowdown: A pregnant peasant registers a complaint against a village chief and bureaucralarity ensues.

There two things I was thinking of as I was watching this film. The first was: there are incredible lengths people will go to in order to prove themselves "right" about something. Some are ridiculous, others are desperate. If enough people were willing to concede a point and just let it go, things would be a lot easier in the world.

The second was: Never get into an argument with a pregnant woman. I learned that one the hard way during my ex-wife's first trimester.

The movie opens up with Qiu Ju, the wife of a chili farmer in rural China, going to a village doctor with her sister-in-law towing her husband Qinglai in a cart. The day before, Qinglai let his mouth get the better of him during an altercation with Wang, the village chief, resulting in a severe kick to Qinglai's groin. Both worried and embarrassed for her husband, Qiu Ju demands an apology from the chief, but is refused. So instead she files a complaint with the local government office. The complaint is quickly handled, with the chief being responsible for 200 yuan in lost wages and expenses. Qiu Ju tells the chief that she isn't concerned so much about the money but still demands an apology from him. The chief scoffs is more than willing to pay any fines, but scoffs at the idea of apologizing for his actions, no matter how out of place they might be. Feeling that her case was handled inadequately, Qiu Ju appeals her case to a higher office and ends up being exposed to the progressively larger cogs of government bureaucracy.

This is a very ironic comedy that is completely gag-free. There are no pratfalls, one-liners, catch-phrases, or visual gags to be seen. (Qinglai's "sacktap" happens immediately before the movie begins and is only described, never re-enacted.) If anything, what makes the movie funny is the determination of the central character Qiu Ju and the dawning realization that bureaucracy is a universal concept. With Qiu Ju being increasingly dissatisfied with how her complaint is handled, she appeals to a higher and higher court, eventually landing her in "The City", where she is completely out of her depth.

The scenes in "The City" are pretty hilarious Chinese spin on the "country bumpkin in the big city" shtick that is a staple of Western cinema. Qiu Ju and her sister-in-law, Meizi, wander the streets, trying to not look completely lost and maintain their focus toward complaining with the Public Service Board, yet finding their gaze wandering to the marvels of the urban landscape. At one point a friendly passerby recommends they change their clothes to blend in, so we cut to Qiu Ju and Meizi donning freshly-purchased "urban-looking" overcoats, and still looking completely out of place in them.

Overall, one realizes that while some of the customs, laws, and procedures may be different, government services in China seem to have the same work-avoidance philosophy that Western bureaucracies have. Watching Qiu Ju fill out paperwork yet again reminds me of being at the DMV. At one point she asks a local schoolteacher to read a court notice because she can't understand the "legalese" in it.

Bureaucracies are all the same for both the East and West.

Line of the movie: "All I wanted was an apology," Qiu Ju's request seems simple at first.

Four stars. Filled with wholesome goodness.

"Scanners" (1981)

Starring: Stephen Lack, Patrick McGoohan, Michael Ironside, Jennifer O’Neill, Robert Silverman.

First, the Lowdown: Psychics run amok and Smucker’s-filled action ensues.

In theme with the movie, I know what you’re thinking. Either it’s A: “It’s about time he got to this flick.” Or B: “I ordered a cheeseburger.” Our story begins with lonely hobo, Cameron, who has been burdened with the ability to hear peoples’ thoughts and see into their minds. Now while mind-reading does indeed sound like a cool ability to possess, think about it this way: Analyze what you think about as you walk, as you work, as you sit on your ass and channel surf. Unless you’re God, your thoughts are bound to be pretty fucking boring. Now imagine what it would be like to listen to that EVERY DAY OF YOUR LIFE FROM EVERYONE AROUND YOU. It would be like being stuck in a room with a thousand TV sets, and they are all blaring infomercials, Jerry Springer, and Univision. Pretty soon you’d be shoving pens into your eyes and slamming your head into a wall just to take the edge off. I’m not going to go into how much this movie is a “classic” or even a “must-see.” Knowing the homeroom class of junior high school kids that is my reading audience; you’re more interested in the famous “head exploding” scene. Well, it’s nothing compared to today’s standards, but the man’s noggin pops like a watermelon in a Gallagher show. Where was I? Oh yeah, the actual synopsis of the movie. Anyway, Cameron is caught sending an uppity housewife into grand mal seizures and drug off to an abandoned warehouse run by No. 6 from the Prisoner. No. 6 is desperately trying to save his project (and more likely, his funding), which deals with people in Cameron’s unique position: Scanners. Apparently a rogue scanner, Darryl Revok (which is such a cool name), has been going ‘round bursting other scanners left and right like pustules on a 14-year old, including the aforementioned Mr. Head Explosion who was in No. 6’s employ. Cameron then goes undercover to find Revok and stop, hinder, or at least do something to him. The movie is pretty vague on this point, we know he’s supposed to at least FIND Revok, but beyond that it’s pretty nebulous. However, Revok is already in control of a high-ranking officer in Cameron’s company with designs to undermine it from the inside. And at this point is where the movie is more suspenseful than gory until the last 5 or so minutes. It’s a pretty interesting concept (which was inspired by William S. Burroughs’ writing) and for a movie that’s been made infamous for having a cranial explosion, there’s quite a bit of social commentary in it (particularly about the Cold War, the science’s co-opting by the military, and “Thalidomide children.”) Of personal note, this is one of a couple movies that I keep having reoccurring dreams about (another one is The Omega Man, in case you’re curious), and while one would think being a scanner would be cool, the dreams never end pretty. And out of curiosity, could someone explain to me what it is with Michael Ironside and being put through the physical ringer in every movie? It seems like every single movie I’ve seen him in his character ends up getting mutilated or otherwise caught in the gears of a Ferris wheel. Masochism fetish much, you splotchy fellow?

Line of the movie: “I’m gonna suck your brain dry!” Darryl Revok and boy is he cheesed.

Four stars. How you like me now?

"Tenebre" (1982)

Starring: Anthony Fransciosa, John Steiner, JOHN SAXON!, and a host of those wacky Italians.

First, the lowdown: It’s Seven, Italian Style.

Yet another fine entry from the Dario Argento line of cinema. Tony Fransciosa plays Peter Neal: a prolific horror writer of Stephen King-like proportions, who is touring Rome to promote his new book: Tenebrae (gasp!). On the plane over, we see him receive a mysterious phone call from a stalker ex-wife/girlfriend/something, who ends up stealing his gym bag when he’s not looking and goes Glen Close on the contents. (In one of many red herrings in the movie, we are treated to several suspicious close-ups of the gym bag, which makes you think the ex-whatever put a bomb in it) In Rome, a be-trenchcoated psycho with O.J. Simpson gloves has been slicing through the pink underbelly that is home to Italy’s prostitutes and deadbeat women. Our opening victim is a girl caught shoplifting the paperback edition of Mr. Neal’s book, but ends up getting away with it because she propositions the store detective (lord only knows what this poor creature would’ve done for a good piece of Faulkner.) While on her way home, she’s accosted by a drunken beggar, who chases her. However, Trenchcoat Psycho is waiting at her flat, and ends up staining her shag carpet apartment with her own blood. Meanwhile Peter Neal arrives amid fanfare and meets up with his incredibly annoying agent: John Saxon (sporting a poorly chosen fedora). Things must’ve been pretty bad for Mr. Saxon, because he’s demoted to the role of the movie’s Comic Relief, and he’s not even that present in the movie. He only seems to appear to remind people that he’s there. While settling in his hotel room, Peter is interrogated by two Italian detectives (who speak in dubbed broken English) about the series of murders committed by Trenchcoat Psycho. Mr. Psycho has been leaving witty passages from Peter’s book at the scene of each crime, giving the police a sneaking feeling that their client may have been inspired by it. Forsaking all conventional police procedure, our wayward detectives enlist in Peter’s help to track down the killer. Peter doesn’t appear to take the plea for help too seriously, or anything else on his book tour for that matter (with the exception of two interviews the man makes as many PR appearances in this movie as Salman Rushdie would in Tehran.) Our killer still goes about his merry way, picking away at quite a few Italian lovelies in the name of literature and then leaving taunting letters at Peter’s hotel room. One victim in particular is the daughter of Peter’s ex-wife/girlfriend/whatever; not that it’s an important plot point, but they feel it’s worth mentioning. Later on, both Peter and his assistant are haunted by visions of his ex-whatever in rental cars, as well as John Saxon’s ridiculous fedora (which he refuses to remove even while indoors.) Halfway through the movie, Peter gets an epiphany and takes his young Carey Elwes-esque gofer to lurk about the home of the Trenchcoat Psycho, resulting in traumatic memories for the barely pubescent gofer (who witnesses a Gen-U-Wine axe murder) and a dent in the head for Peter (which causes an embarrassing divot in the back of his coiffure for the rest of the movie). In essence, it’s another entry into the Italian giallo genre, which I’d enjoy more if it weren’t for the weird-as-shit pacing. That being said there are two scene where Argento shows technical ingenuity behind the camera. The first is an outside shot of our next victim framed through the window, it looks like a typical POV shot until you realize the camera is moving UPWARDS. The second has one of the police inspectors bending over to pick something up at a crime scene, only to reveal our killer standing directly behind him. At least this one didn’t break the wacky meter like Phenomena.

Line of the movie: “Where is that damn drunk?” John Saxon is feeling surly.

Three stars. Drink me.

"Vampire Seduction" (1998)

[Editor's note: I'm putting up three of these today, so brace yourselves.]

Starring: Tina Krause, Paige Turner, Kiki Michaels, Dawn Monaco, John Paul Freddie; and of course: Daisy, Janie, and Jenna.

First, the Lowdown: It’s a softcore that tries to borrow from an already tired lesbian vampire genre.

After the fall of Count Dracula some 100-odd years ago, his daughter (see the Brides Of Dracula for more information) has come to New Jersey seeking blood (what else is there to do in Jersey anyway?) Coincidentally, the descendant of Dr. Abraham Van Helsing (who apparently was a pretty hip cat for the turn of the century) is also in the Garden State. However, unlike with Dracula’s progeny (who is sporting pretty un-vampire-like tan lines), the passing century has not been kind to the Van Helsing line. Years of genetic dilution (or more likely, inbreeding) have reduced the once-mighty clan to an embarrassing Jerry Lewis-like consistency. The latest in the line, Wally (a name that is only funny when stoned), is a loser even by Dustin Hoffman standards. Lacking in physical, social, and hygienic skills, Wally is summoned by the aforementioned daughter of Dracula, “Dracoola.” She has a weird accent that implies a Slavic language, but in reality makes her sound like a frustrated Mexican whore. For some insane reason, she has implored Wallace to “bring me Lezbyones.” Obviously, he never heard of the personals, so Wally heads to the most unlikely location to fine same-sex activity: low-income housing. (And as anyone who has lived in section 8 housing can tell you, most low-income tenants are too busy trying to beat their kids and forge welfare checks to have sex of ANY kind.) From here on out it’s softcore business as usual: out of work strippers and/or friends of the filmmakers taking their clothes off under ridiculous pretenses (even by pornography standards.) (This includes a slumber party sequence which can only be described as “mostly legal.”) For all you filthy perverts out there who only watch esoteric cinema for the sex, there’s not much of it here. Plenty of nudity and fondling, but no more than could be found at a typical sorority party (or at your local strip club for that matter.) As someone who has had the privilege to watch two actual lesbians engage in sexual congress, it looks nothing like this. After the movie is a 45-minute “short” called Misty’s Secret; which manages to be both stupid and disturbing at the same time in some points. The first half of the movie is nothing more than a sequence where one woman compulsively washes herself in the tub whilst giving longing looks at her roommate. I don’t know about you, but the demented habits of the neurotic aren’t really that enticing to me. We flash to a sequence involving a redhead stripping and “masturbating” for her voyeur neighbor; even though we never see whether there is an actual building facing the window she is performing in front of. Next, we find out that our two roomies are really vacationing in Paris, even though they found the most squalid and unrecognizable parts of the town to film in (or maybe it’s really Montreal pretending it’s Paris?) Anyway apparently Misty’s secret involves some kinda stalker guy, but after watching someone wash herself for the ninth consecutive time, I decided the film was more fun in fast motion.

Line of the movie: “Put down that teddy bear and come here.” Quoth the lusty homemaker in the “mostly legal” scene.

Two stars. Thank you, drive thru.