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Thursday, May 20, 2010

THE ATOMIC BRAIN (1964)

Three new bodies. Fresh, live, young bodies. No families or friends within thousands of miles, no one to ask embarrassing questions when they disappear. Victor wondered which one Mrs. March would pick. The little Mexican, the girl from Vienna, or the buxom blonde? Victor knew his pick, but he still felt uneasy, making love to an 80 year old woman in the body of a 20 year old girl; it's insanity!
-the film's narrator

One of the staples of my movie education during the glorious pre-cable days of my youth were mad scientist movies, and few of them came any madder than this bit of no-budget lunacy. Originally released as MONSTROSITY, this flick is one of those mostly undistinguished and rather generic black & white oddities that would have deservedly languished in obscurity of not for some of the utterly bonkers elements found in its plot.

The film tells the story of an nasty old woman who lives with an overage and unappealing and overage gigolo and seeks to transplant her still nimble and thoroughly evil brain into the body of a young hottie, at first relying on her live-in mad scientist's experiments with freshly-dead nubile young women to yield results. Initially testing his procedure using the brains of animals transplanted into human bodies, the scientist generates a mutant dog/man for no apparent reason other than to serve as an odd-looking and none-too-bright servant, but that avenue of "science" proves a bust when it is determined that the nerve endings of the dead are too far gone to allow a brain transplant to take. With that stumbling block realized, the evil old lady takes out and ad for a new cleaning woman and soon ends up with the three girls described in the narration quoted at the beginning of this post. In short order, the poor Mexican girl is deemed not pretty enough for the old bag's needs and falls prey to the mad scientist, who takes out her brain and replaces it with that of the resident housecat. Why? Your guess is as good as mine but it was apparently for shits and giggles, laughs that were guaranteed when we got to see the "Mexican" actress imitate a housecat in human form and scarf down a live mouse.

As if the general creepiness of the old lady's mansion and the presence of the mutant dog man wandering about the grounds were not enough to cause the remaining pair of girls considerable unease, the disappearance of their Mexican colleague and the old lady locking them in their rooms to ensure that they don't attempt to escape soon twigs the girls to the fact that all is not kosher. During an escape attempt, the British girl is accidentally partially blinded and the remaining blonde bombshell is swiftly prepped for surgery. Having previously signed a legal document, it is revealed to the blonde that her signature was needed so the old lady could legally declare her the heir to her vast fortune (she's described as "one of the richest women in the world," but we are never told where her fortune comes from), and once the old bitch's brain is in her new young (and not coincidentally hot) body she'll pretend to be the young woman, who will be the only survivor when the mansion, its inhabitants and the old lady's body are destroyed in a planned nuclear explosion. But what the old lady does not anticipate is the hatred that she's engendered in the scientist and her gigolo after untold years of abuse; both men were willingly strung along in hope of getting a piece of the inheritance when the transplant occurred, but with the blonde now legally declared the sole inheritor, they've had enough. As the blonde and the old lady are strapped to the operating table and anesthetized, the scientist wreaks horrible (and ludicrous) revenge upon the old woman, leaving the blonde untouched but transplanting the old lady's brain into the housecat, leaving the old lady's intelligence exactly as it was but now trapped in the non-speaking and comparatively impotent body of a common tabby. Reasoning that he'll still have access to the money if he keeps the blonde alive and drugged, the scientist readies to embark on a new life of leisure, but his plans are thwarted when he enters the atomic brain-swap chamber (pictured above) for a final cleanup and ends up locked into it by the pissed-off housecat. The cat then activates the machine, reducing the mad scientist to a skeleton and setting off the chain reaction that will destroy the house. The blonde manages to escape, as does the cat, whom, the narrator informs us, plans to follow the girl and someday, some way, get revenge. THE END.

I've seen countless movies about brain transplants and laboratories that blow up at the end of the movie, but never have I seen such a scenario involving the machinations of an evil housecat who is equipped with the brain of a horny octogenarian. The image of the cat pressing the auto-destruct button with its paw is hilarious, and the idea of said housecat embarking on an implacable quest for vengeance is the cherry atop a glorious cake of implausible ridiculousness. I know one is supposed to completely suspend disbelief for this kind of flick, but even by the standards of D-grade movie science, this just takes the cake. I mean, when the cat's brain was stuffed into the Mexican chick's head, did the doctor account for all the leftover cranial space by filling the rest of the skull with cotton wadding? Would the tiny cat's brain still wobble about a bit, regardless of the stuffing? And when the doctor puts the old lady's brain into the cat's head, how could her brain have possibly remained cognizant, let alone even remotely functional, with a good 85% or more of its mass excised in order to fit into such a vastly smaller skull? Frankly, I don't care. I just love that the screenwriter had the balls to come up with it and not give a flying fuck about even the smallest shred of logic. RECOMMENDED.

LUPIN III EPISODE 0: FIRST CONTACT (2002)

The gang is back again...for the very first time!

Even when this long-running manga/anime series trots out a potential dud, I will always give LUPIN III a chance. First appearing as a manga in 1967 and created by a cartoonist with the unlikely pen name of "Monkey Punch" (real name Kazuhiko Kato; his editor suggested he use the name briefly, but then LUPIN III hit big and he's been stuck as Monkey Punch ever since), the series follows the globe trotting adventures of Lupin the Third, the world's greatest thief, and his equally larcenous associates as they perpetually challenge themselves by plotting and pulling off the most impossible of heists (they once memorably made off with the Statue of Liberty during its refurbishment), forever doggedly pursued by the obsessed Inspector Zenigata of Interpol. The popularity of Lupin's waaaaaay over-the-top comedic adventures is such that since its inception there have been three television series, one live-action movie (the less said about that, the better), five theatrical animated features and twenty-three feature-length animated television specials, and the series shows no signs of giving up the ghost, despite the most recent television special (which aired in February of 2010) being entitled THE LAST JOB. That's pretty amazing when you consider that the entire run of LUPIN III tells more or less the same story over and over again — Lupin and his cohorts either plan an insane heist or are thrust into pulling off an insane heist, sometimes helping out innocents in need, with each adventure featuring tons of derring-do — so it's up to the filmmakers to keep things fresh by crafting stories that show off the fun interactions of the five main cast members and allow their voice actors to bring these characters to life with personalities every bit as indelible as a Bugs Bunny or a Homer Simpson. But while the characters are quite familiar in the series' country of origin and abroad (to non-Japanese anime junkies, anyway), little or nothing is known about the origins of the Lupin Gang or how they all met. That lack of information is addressed in LUPIN III EPISODE 0: FIRST CONTACT, a television special from 2002, and speaking as a Lupin fan of some twenty-five years, I have to say I was not disappointed.

The film opens with a journalist convincing Jigen, Lupin's super-humanly accurate and quick-drawing gunman associate, to tell her the story of how he and Lupin's crew first met, a tale she's arranged to publish as a potential best-seller. What follows details Lupin's Manhattan-set quest to steal the Clam of Hermes, a hermetically-sealed metal tube containing a scroll that reveals the secrets of alchemy, but once he steals it from the mafiosi Jigen works for, he must also obtain the key to open the tube. When Jigen fails to gun down Lupin, he refuses to let anyone else kill the famous thief because that pleasure must be his in retribution for Lupin sullying his reputation, thus setting in motion several confrontations in which the slouch-hatted gunsel comes to grudgingly respect his devil-may-care prey. As all of that is going on, Inspector Zenigata arrives in New York in search of Lupin's female counterpart, the famously busty international cat burglar Fujiko Mine (whose surname allegedly translates as "peaks"), who also has her eyes on the Clam of Hermes and its key. Then, just when things could not possibly get more potentially convoluted, modern day samurai and master swordsman Goemon Ichikawa enters the picture, also in search of the key, which is kind of odd since Goemon is a highly skilled and honorable practitioner of the swordsman's way, so what the hell does he want the key for? Throw in the hapless New York police force, pissed-off goombahs, car chases, a cool jazz soundtrack (one of the trademarks of the series), and action out the wazoo, and you have one hell of an origin story. The only question is this: is Jigen telling the journalist the truth, or is the entire tale one gigantic load of world-class bullshit?

I have not sat through all of the LUPIN III films, but I have seen enough to differentiate the cream of the crop from the dross, and LUPIN III EPISODE 0: FIRST CONTACT acquits itself admirably. The characterizations and voice acting are dead-on — particularly fun is Zenigata getting one of his rare portrayals as something more than just a goofy idiot — and the letter-perfect New York setting is extremely well-handled, so if you're an old friend of Lupin and his pals or if you're new to the game and want to experience an entertaining primer/gateway into the whole crazy thing, you could hardly ask for a better place to return to or get started from. And once you've watched it, make sure to sit through it again with the excellent and very informative commentary track by Reed Nelson of Lupin the Third.Com. RECOMMENDED.

7 BLOWS OF THE DRAGON (1974)

Portrait of two kickass Asian heroes: the incomparable Ti Lung (L) as Magic Sword and David Chiang (in black) as Young Dragon. Damn, I love those guys!!!

There are a number of movies that just plain put me in a very psyched-up and good mood, and the classic Shaw Brothers kung fu flick 7 BLOWS OF THE DRAGON is one of them. Released in China in 1972 and making its way over here in 1974 as part of the avalanche during the mid-1970's "chopsocky" boom, the flick is kind of an all-star Eastern variant on the whole Robin Hood-style heroic outlaws thing, and I just got my hands on a cherry widescreen DVD of it that includes the frequently hilarious English dubbing. Watching it a few nights ago, I once more reveled in its story of betrayal and the subsequent righteous vengeance for that lowdown treachery, so I figured I'd hip you to its old school goodness. Based on the classic Chinese novel THE WATER MARGIN, this is one adaptation of a literary cultural milestone that is about as far from stodgy and stolid as it can possibly get.

Our heroes, The Mountain Bandits. Yaaaaaay!!!

In 11th century China, the corrupt Sung Dynasty’s cruel oppression led 108 heroic men and women to become outlaws and fight the government as The Mountain Bandits, basically a Chinese analog to Robin Hood and the Merry Men whose wide range fighting skills made their British counterparts look like a pitiful wet Budweiser fart by way of comparison. Loved by the common citizenry and absolutely despised by the Sungs, The Mountain Bandits are clearly on an inevitable collision course with their governmental adversaries, so the story proper kicks off when Heavenly King, the leader of The Mountain Bandits, is killed by Golden Spear (Toshio Kurosawa), the highly skilled bodyguard of one of the corrupt officials.

Toshio Kurosawa as the deadly Golden Spear.

This being an old school kung fu story, The Mountain Bandits immediately set about plotting their vengeance but, being no fools, they realize they need someone as adept as Golden Spear to face him, so they decide to approach hardcore expert in damned near every fighting art that one could think of, Master Lu, aka Jade Dragon (Tetsuro Tanba, best known to Western audiences as James Bond’s totally cool Japanese pal, Tiger Tanaka, in 1967’s YOU ONLY LIVE TWICE) to aid them.

Tetsuro Tanba as Jade Dragon.

If they succeed in wooing Jade Dragon, by default they also get the elder master’s supremely badassed bodyguard, the handsome and devil-may-care ladies’ man Young Dragon (David Chiang), in the bargain, and with those two on their side The Mountain Bandits theoretically cannot lose.

My kind of hero: Young Dragon (David Chiang), spending his off-time hanging out at the local whorehouse where his charm has bewitched the entire staff.

When two disguised members of the Bandits arrive in the Northern Capital to approach Jade Dragon, Young Dragon sees through their disguise and has them detained while the authorities are summoned. While awaiting the constables, Jade Dragon senses the goodness in the captives and allows them leave before the authorities arrive, but that act of respect comes back to bite Jade Dragon on the ass when it is witnessed by the steward of his house. While Jade Dragon has spent his every waking moment in hard martial training, he has ignored his hot young wife and she found adulterous comfort in the slimy steward’s arms, so witnessing Jade Dragon letting the Bandits go is just the thing that will allow the foul adulterers to get rid of him for good. When the authorities arrive, the steward accuses Jade Dragon of treason and the elder master is immediately arrested and sent to jail, there to await capital punishment. When Jade Dragon dissuades his bodyguard from fighting the authorities, naively thinking that he can find a way out of his predicament on his own and trusting in the aforementioned corrupt Sung assholes, it soon becomes clear that there is no way out and that the officials intend to make an example of Jade Dragon to illustrate what happens if any sympathy is shown to the wanted outlaws. Gravely concerned for his master’s life, Young Dragon attempts to rescue the elder warrior but is unable to successfully take on the scores of soldiers set against him (though he does fight like a man possessed), so, in an act of desperation, he runs to The Mountain Bandits for help. The bandits are only too happy to assist and the rest of the movie details a few failed rescue attempts before our heroes succeed in freeing Jade Dragon. As the heroes make their way out of the city, Golden Spear is deployed and vows to bring down all and sundry, but most especially Jade Dragon, who was revealed earlier to once have been Golden Spear’s greatly respected friend. The forces of the corrupt government and our heroes face each other on a battlefield and five elite members of The Mountain Bandits — Leopard (Yueh Hua), Tigress (Lily Ho), Black Whirlwind (Fan Mei-Sheng), Magic Sword (the exquisite Ti Lung) and Fearless One (Wong Chung) — are chosen to take on the cream of the enemy crop while Golden Spear and Jade Dragon engage in tragic final combat.

The duel of the masters commences.

What ensues is old school kung fu superheroics at their best as The Mountain Bandits fight the good fight and hand out ass-whuppings like Halloween candy.

Tigress (Lily Ho) takes a Sung asshole to school.

7 BLOWS OF THE DRAGON is unpretentious chopsocky of a breed that more or less died out with the passing of the 1970’s martial arts boom and the advent of post-MTV quick-cut editing and CGI in place of honest-to-goodness shots that allowed audiences to watch quality martial artists work the fight choreography in lengthy, minimum bullshit takes. Plus, since this is a prime example of a classic Shaw Brothers picture, there are gorgeous period sets and costumes, along with the icing on the cake: the seasoned directorial hand of Chang Cheh, my all-time favorite old school kung fu film director. Chang was a man who usually insisted on presenting a strong and involving story in which his heroes endure all manner of unfair and downright evil torments until they strike back with extreme prejudice, and you always knew when you were watching a Chang flick because the fights were punctuated with then-copious amounts of bright red stage blood. Compared to the gory excesses of such Chang epics as FIVE DEADLY VENOMS (1978), TEN TIGERS OF KWANGTUNG (1979, which features a guy’s head getting literally kicked off at the end) and the superb and justly classic FIVE ELEMENT NINJA (1982, in which the main bad guy is torn in half at the waist at the end), 7 BLOWS OF THE DRAGON is fairly tame, although it does comes through when the vicious and righteous retribution is unleashed.

A typical quiet Chang Cheh moment of introspection.

That said, the film is still suitable for the whole family and would probably earn a soft PG-13 if submitted to the MPAA nowadays, although they have been known to slap needless R ratings on many martial arts films over the past three-plus decades, a move that makes me wonder if the brain-dead fucksticks at the MPAA even bothered to watch the movies in question. Even by my own relatively lenient standards regarding what is suitable for kids to see, 7 BLOWS OF THE DRAGON counts as something that could run uncut on afternoon TV (and I think it did during the 1980’s on New York City’s late, lamented Saturday afternoon DRIVE-IN MOVIE martial arts movie showcase on Channel 5), and even its adultery subplot is pulled off without a trace of tits or reproductive bits shown. Yet the film was tarred with a completely undeserved R rating when released to theaters here in the States, a certification that must have confused regular grindhouse attendees who were used to ultra-violent stuff like LIGHTNING SWORDS OF DEATH (1974) and the deservedly rated X for violence THE STREET FIGHTER (1975).

Whatever the case, 7 BLOWS OF THE DRAGON is a fun, colorful classic that solidly delivers from start to finish, and the goofy English dubbing works to add to the entertainment, providing viewers with such ludicrous lines as "The Mountain Bandits are here!!!" when Jade Dragon is rescued from execution, and "Watch out! The Double-Kick of Death!" (used to describe what is clearly a three-tiered technique).

"Watch out! The Double-Kick of Death!"

When I first saw the film on VHS sometime in the mid-1980’s with two equally chopsocky-minded friends, the cartoonish dialogue had us laughing our stoned asses off, and to this day that stuff just makes me smile. When stacked against several of the more famous Shaw Brothers classics, 7 BLOWS OF THE DRAGON rates as somewhat lesser by comparison in the eyes of many who are well-versed in the genre, but take my word for it and check it out. It’s an absolutely perfect Saturday afternoon popcorn flick.

Oh, and I forgot to mention: the title has absolutely nothing to do with anything that happens during the course of the story, an aspect that only bolsters the film’s sheer awesomeness because at no point will you feel ripped off by the absence of the titular seven blows. But who needs seven blows when you’ve got the Double-Kick of Death? HIGHLY RECOMMENDED.

Theatrical poster from the American release. Note the unnecessary R rating.

KICK-ASS (2010)

So I finally got around to seeing KICK-ASS and I have to say that, overall, I thought it more or less sucked for a number of reasons. I read the source comics and didn’t much care for those either — save for one element that I will address shortly — but at least the comic stuck true to its basic premise, namely what would happen if some moron put on a costume and attempted to fight crime as a non-powered superhero in reality, with that reality being the linchpin upon which the entire narrative rests. In its translation to the screen, the realism that the comic book version of KICK-ASS strove for is kicked to the curb around a third of the way in, thus rendering the movie somewhat schizophrenic and “Hollywoodizing” the content to a degree that escalates into outright ridiculousness that is plainly insulting to the intelligence of its audience, a group that is more than willing to suspend its disbelief in the name of being entertained.

KICK-ASS introduces us to Dave Lizewski (Aaron Johnson), a wimpy loser who is beset with bullies and a frustrating invisibility to the females in his school, in other words basically an update of Peter Parker, save for Lizewski’s interest in comic books and superheroes. After pondering why no one ever just put on a costume and started fighting crime in real life, Dave takes to the streets as Kick-Ass and immediately suffers a serious ass-kicking and stabbing from two thugs who harassed and mugged him while he was in his civilian garb. Coming out of the hospital with metal-reinforced bones and fucked-up nerve endings that allow him a very high pain threshold, Dave again makes the nighttime rounds as Kick-Ass and saves a man from being beaten to death by three street gang members while taking a lot of punishment in the process. This ill-advised bit of Good Samaritanism is recorded on an onlooker’s cell phone and immediately becomes an Internet hit, spurring Dave to set up a web page where people can contact Kick-Ass and request his aid. Meanwhile, another mysterious figure is murdering the mob forces of Mafiso Frank D’Amico (Mark Strong) and stealing considerable amounts of his cocaine and cash, which leads D’Amico to incorrectly figure Kick-Ass is responsible and sets out to eliminate the presumed thorn in his side. The real culprits are an ultra-violent take on Batman and Robin, namely former cop Big Daddy (Nicholas Cage) and Hit-Girl (Chloe Moretz), his eleven-year-old daughter, both of whom are highly skilled in hand-to-hand combat and use of a cornucopia of weapons, and they come into contact with Kick-Ass when they save him from being killed by drug dealers. An uneasy alliance between the “heroes” is established, and along with his crime fighting Dave enjoys the attentions of Katie (Lyndsy Fonseca), a cute classmate he has a crush on, but who thinks he’s gay and wants him as her “gay B.F.F.” Also, Dave, in Kick-Ass mode, is befriended by alleged fellow amateur superhero Red Mist (Christopher Mintz-Plasse), who is in actuality the son of Frank D’Amico, acting to lure Kick-Ass into his dad’s clutches. All of these plotlines eventually converge and the end result is a colossal train wreck on nearly every level.

The first third of KICK-ASS is firmly rooted in what we know as reality, but then it seems as if a totally different director and screenwriters were brought in to alter what remained to fit in with results garnered from audience testing. Where Dave was a complete loser in the comics, in the film he transforms into a kinda-cool dude who, after fessing up to his crush-object about not being gay and revealing to her that he is Kick-Ass, gets to fuck the hot girl in the alley behind the local comics shop/café (more accurately, he’s fucked by her, first in her bedroom and later in that oh-so-romantic alley). In the comics, Dave only reveals that he isn’t gay, which leads Katie to understandably explode in utter apoplexy, after which one of her hulking jock pals beats the shit out of Dave. That scenario, I believe. The other, not at all. And do not get me started on the moment during the film’s insanely violent climax when Kick-Ass — an ordinary teenage loser, let us not forget — arrives to rescue Hit-Girl (who is about to be blown into a million smoldering chunks by a bazooka-wielding hood) flying in a James Bondian rocket pack, equipped with twin helicopter assault guns that snap up from behind him and align themselves over his shoulders for tactical deployment. The sight of that made me exclaim aloud, “Oh, come on!!!” and changed my opinion of the film from one of mere indifference to almost-total hatred.

While the teenage characters’ performances are all pretty good, I was rather saddened by the waste of Christopher Mintz-Plasse in the role of Red Mist. He’s given little to do here that would have challenged a newbie actor, and fans of SUPERBAD’s McLovin will be sorely disappointed by how he was short-changed by this script. In the source comics, Red Mist is introduced as a mystery, so when the reveal about who he actually is and the reason for why he became Red Mist happens, there's a real surprise. In the movie we know who he is from the second we see him, so that potential narrative shock is completely squandered. The comics were not great, but that plot point is one of the things about it that did not require "fixing" by the screenwriters in any way.

Chloe Moretz, rocking the screen as Hit-Girl, the ultimate pint-sized badass.

The one thing (or rather two things) that I genuinely liked about this movie is the presence of Big Daddy and Hit-Girl, a pair who were also the only things that kept me reading the comic book (I was about to give up on the comic, but then they showed up and I kept reading just to enjoy more of them). Simply put, the duo own the movie whenever they’re onscreen (which amounts to about a fifth of the running time) and Hit-Girl brings pain and graphic violence down upon the bad guys like a pint-sized Fury straight out of Greek mythology, with touches of Cynthia Rothrock and Tomisaburo Wakayama thrown in for good measure. Or, in non-chopsocky speak, the kid is a complete and utter badass in every way, and if this film makes enough at the box office to warrant a sequel, I suggest they leave out all of the original film’s characters, focus on her, and title the movie DON’T FUCK WITH HIT-GIRL. And while Hit-Girl steals the movie, Nicholas Cage’s Big Daddy charms as the sweet and doting father who forges his kid into a merrily willing participant in his vendetta against D’Amico, and while in his Batman-esque Big Daddy costume, he affects a hilarious Adam West-style of line delivery that had me cracking up. (To the best of my knowledge, the Adam West BATMAN show has not been seen in syndication for at least ten years, so I wonder if the under-thirty-fives in the audience will get the gag.)

To sum up, KICK-ASS is garnering all manner of critical acclaim for reasons that completely elude me, and I’m betting that no matter how I may rail against it, you may be tempted to see it in the theater anyway. Please, dear readers, I beg of you not to spend your hard-earned cash to see this for full or even matinee price. Wait for cable or a Netflix rental if you must see it, and keep in mind that it’s only worth it for Big Daddy and Hit-Girl. Otherwise, it’s an over-hyped waste of celluloid. If you're looking for a movie that takes the whole realistic non-powered superhero thing and does something both intelligent and genuinely worthwhile with it, check out the vastly superior DEFENDOR instead.

If a sequel happens, change this ad's title to DON'T FUCK WITH HIT-GIRL and we're good to go.

LUPIN III: ISLAND OF ASSASSINS (1997)

Originally known as IN MEMORY OF THE WALTHER P-38 when first aired in Japan, this is the tenth of the made-foe television LUPIN III specials and is of a markedly different and dark tone than the rest of the lot thanks to its uncharacteristically graphic violence. The LUPIN III series are usually quite light-hearted romps, but this time around, Lupin and his associates are drawn into the world of an international cadre of assassins culled from the cream of the world's murderous crop, and this story is very intriguing for those used to the more breezy Lupin entries, simply so they can see how Lupin's universe is transformed with bloody depictions of poisonings, shooting, stabbings, and an up close and personal throat-slashing, none of which sits at all well with Lupin himself, a man who is by no means a killer. What goes on over the course of this story is stuff that Lupin's gunman buddy Jigen and their crew's master swordsman, Goemon, could handle without blinking an eye, but Lupin's definitely more of a lover and rascal than a fighter, as is made evident through his own approach to combat, which is basically to physically not be where blows, bullets or sharp implements of murder would come into contact with his person. But why do the assassins seek to lure Lupin to their hidden island in the heart of the Bermuda Triangle? What is the island's great secret? And why is Lupin so keen on obtaining the striking silver Walther P-38 pistol used to shoot (and presumably kill) his longtime pursuer and nemesis, Inspector Zenigata? I ain't tellin', so don't ask, but I definitely recommend this to all interested anime junkies.

THE BLONDE CAPTIVE (1931)

This long-lost documentary/exploitation flick is a real curiosity and a telling look at how the then-exotic could be sleazily manipulated into the most feeble of wank-fodder for the most pathetic of trenchcoat brigade desperadoes.

Basically a chronicle of an expedition to Australia in search of the reportedly still-extant Neanderthal man, the film follows a pack of white anthropologists/explorers as they tour through such stops as New Zealand and Pago Pago, capturing every bit of "strange" non-whiteness that wandered into camera range. I can imagine how bizarre much of this material must have seemed to American audiences when seen nearly eighty years ago and much of the narration is a litany of smug and offensive sneering at native ways of life. Denigrating aboriginal peoples as "the lowest rung on the ladder of humanity" and describing most of the females as ugly, undesirable and not worth the attention of the white man (I shit you not), the filmmakers nonetheless make sure to capture images of every flappy and un-PLAYBOY-like set of nekkid breasts that they can find. Believe me when I say that it's about as appealing or erotic as watching one's eighty-year-old mud-caked grandma running around topless, displaying swaying udders that resemble socks filled with ball bearings. There are exceptions to that assessment, however, specifically the very cute and very topless obvious jailbait found on Bali. When the camera finds them the viewer is "treated" to borderline-pedophilic leering at their impossibly firm dairies that may make your skin crawl due to the creepy defilement of the girls' other-cultural innocence and lack of inhibitions about their bodies.

As the "scientific" expedition makes its way west across the vast expanse of Australia, we witness a lot of very interesting footage of the aborigines and their daily life and customs, but a lot of what would otherwise be fascinating is rendered distasteful thanks to the aforementioned tendency of the narration to describe the people as everything just shy of "sub-human" and frequently make mention of their "cannibalistic instincts" that could at any minute be directed at the expedition's members. There's even a dance of friendship done in honor of the filmmakers that is written off as "savagely repulsive" and "barbaric," utterly missing the intent of the tribesmen who perform it.

The "barbaric" dance of friendship.

All of this is presented in a non-credible attempt to prove that the aborigines are actually Neanderthals who somehow eluded extinction, a theory whose only claim to feasibility stems from a museum bust of a caveman that kinda/sorta looks like an aborigine.

But lest we forget, this film is supposedly about a blonde captive of some native savage, so where the hell is she? The person in question does not show up until the last four minutes of the film's seventy-three-minute running time, and when we do see her she is neither a beauty nor what would really be considered a captive.

The filmmakers notice a blonde-haired boy among the aborigines and their questions about the child's origins are answered when they meet the kid's dad, an aborigine who took as his wife the shipwrecked wife of a deceased pearl fisherman. A textbook example of someone who's "gone native," the so-called captive resembled a mellow and topless female version of Jon Pertwee who seemed totally free to leave if she so chose.

The unnamed star of the film.

Her story is not particularly interesting, in fact I've seen documentaries about the unashamedly redneck locals of backwoods counties in West Virginia that blow THE BLONDE CAPTIVE out of the water, so, despite its (thankful) brevity, I say give this time capsule a miss. Even for the dirt-cheap price of $5.99, this isn't worth the expenditure. Buy a sixer of beer instead.

Art from the DVD release.

CRUEL JAWS (1995)

"I'll get you, motherfuckin' shark!!!"
-crazed shotgun-wielding Mafioso.

There are JAWS ripoffs and then there is CRUEL JAWS, a USA/Italian-made marvel of copyright infringement that liberally (and illegally) cribs its shark attack footage from JAWS, JAWS 2, JAWS 3-D, DEEP BLOOD and even the infamous LAST SHARK, itself one of the most flagrant ripoffs ever made. I was alerted to this work of patchwork art by my pal Mindless Kirby, himself already well-schooled in bad movies at the relatively early age of eighteen, and I could not believe there could possibly be a JAWS ripoff more in-your-face than Enzo Castellari's LAST SHARK, a film withdrawn after legal action was threatened by Universal Pictures. Seriously, there was just no way. But what I did not take into account was that there would be an Italian filmmaker possessed of balls big enough to actually — and very poorly — steal footage from all of the aforementioned movies, rather than merely lift the basic template of "gigantic man-eating shark terrorizes beach resort until hunted to explosive death by a disparate crew of pursuers." And, as if that were not enough, the film also "borrows" snippets from one of the most famous movie soundtracks of all time, specifically the original STAR WARS, and even lists JAWS author Peter Benchley as one of its scripters (needless to say, he was not actually involved).

Helmed by "William Snyder" — aka Bruno Mattei, the virtuoso behind such classics as S.S. EXTERMINATION LOVE CAMP (1977), PORNO HOLOCAUST (1981), CALIGULA'S PERVERSIONS (1981), VIOLENCE IN A WOMEN'S PRISON (1982) and RATS IN MANHATTAN (1984) — CRUEL JAWS follows the tried and true formula of the films it rips off and splices together, mostly drawing its plot particulars from JAWS and JAWS 2. Aside from the familiar narrative template, the story gives viewers a gaggle of disposable characters that it is impossible to care about, and in most cases you'll end up praying for them all to end up as the next day's floating shark's turds. There's the nerdy shark expert, a Hulk Hogan lookalike with a cute and treacly little daughter in a wheelchair (who spends her time playing with dolphins and seals at her dad's low-rent aqua show), a pitiful pack of local bullies, one of whom is the mayor's son, and, of course, the corrupt mayor who pooh-poohs the shark attacks and refuses to call off the upcoming regatta for fear of losing tourist's bucks, and their performances are uniformly piss-poor. As the so-called story perfunctorily goes through the motions, there's also a jaw-dropping subplot where the mayor — after failing to call off the regatta, which ends up in the deaths of innocents and loses tons of money as a result — is called on the carpet by his previously unseen Mafia masters and told that they will send a pair of stereotypical goombahs to take care of the shark and claim the $100,000 reward. These two morons, suddenly and inexplicably expert at handling motorboats, set off onto the high seas to kick some shark ass, armed with various firearms. Needless to say, they are horribly killed almost immediately.

As the story nears the long-overdue finish line, it is eventually revealed that the shark is actually the result of a navy experiment that has been trained to attack any enemies within its home territory — in this case a sunken Naval transport — and that revelation adds nothing whatsoever to the plot or the viewer's interest. Oh, and while the shark is described as being of the Tiger variety, all of the stock nature documentary footage and stolen segments clearly depict Great Whites.

The film's soundtrack is replete with totally inappropriate music — mostly ten-years-out-of-date generic '80's-style pop that will make you want to put your head through the nearest wall — and the cinematography is often murky as hell, rendering much of the original footage quite dark, and the editing is often incomprehensible. But what makes this mess absolutely worth sitting through is its sheer nerve as a Frankenstein's monster of cobbled-together footage from other movies, and the jarring juxtaposition of it all is akin to reliving a bad tequila and cough syrup bender. From moment to moment, the shark morphs from live nature footage to a number of fake-looking animatronics and puppets, and when the shark is blown up at the end, it explodes three times, each detonation culled from a completely different movie. CRUEL JAWS is complete and utter crap and its shamelessness is Homeric in scale, but a film of this magnitude of outrageousness is a must-see for all followers of bad movies in general and lovers of ridiculous shark flicks in particular.