Getting Revenge on EVIL is a 6-Year Plan! “Kill Butterfly Kill” reviewed! (Neon Eagle Video / Blu-ray)

“Kill Butterfly Kill” – Both Films Available on Blu-ray!

Caught on the wrong side of the tracks during  a torrential downpour one dark and stormy night, a soaked Mei-Ling seeks shelter in a haybarn where a group of drunk men are playing cards.  Through an intoxicated lens of brash confidence, the men rape Mei-Ling as if the whole ordeal was nothing more than a game, like them playing cards.  For Mei-Ling, the night that changed everything ate at her for six long years as she worked her way up into a nightclub business as she sought the names and faces of her attackers.  When one of the men, a crime boss, stiffs a hitman after taking out leaders of a rival gang, Mei-Ling and the assassin form a mutual business and romantic relationship, pledging to help one another’s revenge. Together, along with Mei-Ling’s most trusted female accomplices, they plot, seduce, and lure each man out of hiding and take them out one-by-one in different ways.   

“Hei shi fu ren,” aka “Underground Wife,” aka “Kill Butterfly Kill,” is the 1982 rape-revenge Taiwanese thriller from director Yu-Lung Hsu, a fast-paced crime-action filmmaker with credits “The Boy from Dark Street” and the more fantastical, kaiju picture “King of Snakes” under his belt later in his career.  The script is penned by a compeer of such genres in Ching-Kang Yao who wrote “One-Armed Swordsman vs Nine Killers” and “Superdragon vs. Superman,” starring Bruce Lee imitator, Bruce Li.  Yu-Lung and Ching-King would collaborate often, making the film one of those efforts right at the height of their joined forces; yet, the film has gone through various titles and edits, even recut and edited in new scenes into what would become “American Commando 6:  Kill Butterfly Kill” five years later from director Godfrey Ho (as Charles Lee), and trying to get a sense of the original intention has proved nothing but difficult.  “Official Exterminator 2:  Heaven’s Hell” executive producer Wu-Tung Yet produces the film what we’ll refer to as “Kill Butterfly Kill” for the sake of his review and Fortuna Film Company is the production firm and presented by International Film Distributors (IFD).

Li-Yun Chen stars as the nightclub madam Mei-Ling hellbent on lethal revenge.  Chen, who continued her career in a few other sexy femme fatale roles in “Commando Fury” and “The Vampire Dominator,” plays the damsel in distress, forced into romping in the hay with a few baboonish male drunkards.  The rape scene is nothing to be overly wrought about as the close-ripping pursuit through the barn is violently toned down and the rape is more implied than explicit.  There isn’t even any nudity of the private parts with just Chen in ripped attire and the men baring their sweaty chests.  Chen never really receives the sympathetic tone one is supposed to receive after going through harrowing humiliation and assault.  Not because of the less intense attack, perhaps more so with how jovial and goofy the intoxicated men are, but Mei-Ling is never lit in a low-point light.  Even after the rape, Mei-Ling is standing strong, glaring, and with a look of determination to get payback while still having straw hang from her disheveled hair, segueing seamlessly right into her powerful businesswoman persona six years later.  This is the point in time where, as an exclusive call girl for a powerful crime boss (Paul Chang Chung, “Vengeance of a Snowgirl”) in a variant subplot, she meets cheated assassin Shiu Ping (Sha Ma, “The Nude Body Case in Tokyo”) who becomes a kindred spirit in seeking revenge.  Their intertwining falls on a fated sword and too serendipitous to make a lot of sense but their run-in to each other makes for good buddy action, an assassin and a high-end prostitute going full tilt on some really bad men who have dispersed into their own idiosyncratic corruption paths that makes them all the more detestable when Mei-Ling and Shiu Ping come for them.  “Kill Butterfly Kill” rounds out the cast with Sing Chen, Hung-Lieh Chen, Fu-Cheng Chen, Yaun Chuan, Li Hsu, Shao Hua Chu, Ti-Men Kan, Chen-Peng Kao, Yun Lan, Fei Lung, Wen-Tseng Liu, Kuan-Wu Lung and Ta-Chuan Chang.

“Kill Butterfly Kill” is inarguably a cult film from Taiwan with sordid themes coursing through its cinematic circulatory system.  Conjoined with the rape-revenge aspect, one of the staple themes of the genre, society corruption, gang wars, assassination attempts, prostitution and martial art skirmishes and brawls run rampant and serve “Kill Butterfly Kill” as Eastern grindhouse ambrosia.  Yet, the seemingly positive film style paraphernalia can also be detrimental.  In the case of “Kill Butterfly Kill,” there’s not a clear cut profile from Yu-Lung Hsu with lot to ingest but not a ton targeted nourishment.  The rape-revenge aspect, which feels like the keynote, foundational plot, careens into awkward comedy and the swindled assassin territory a little too much or invests heavily into the sudden and unexplained relationship between the two protagonists without much background or backstory. There’s no phoenix moment of rising from the ashes with a quick cut from the rape to the revenge without delving into the nitty-gritty details needed to satisfy an important sympathetic and empathetic resurrection.  Sha Ma’s assassin feels like a threadbare connection serving mostly for patriarchal palaver because, surely, a woman couldn’t undermine five influential men by herself, right?  In any case, what’s filmed is filmed, and the fight coordination doesn’t displease with fast-paced action and quick-striking movements.  There’s also a lean cinematographer stylistic palette that fashions surreal moments to coincide with fast action, offering unique methods in tracking down, seducing, luring, and inevitably dispatching the scum.

The film having been through multiple remixes, edits, and being obscure to begin with, the Neon Eagle Video’s 2-Disc Blu-ray release restore what’s feasibly possible in effort to showcase the best possible elements.  In return, the quality on the AVC encoded, high-definition BD50 houses a variable image that never falls terribly below par. The best surviving print is a burned-in English audio export now scanned in 4K and restored to the best possible extent that still sees vertical scratches, frame damage, splicing, and possible print decay. Yet, that doesn’t halt the fast-acting, slow-motion, and tripping visual lenses from being savored. Coloring’s limited saturation offers a flat, little-to-no, pop but there’s quite a bit of exterior light coming through the lens, creating a vivid lens flare effect that makes print have designer appeal. Aforementioned, the burned-in English DTS-HD 2.0 mono dub is the only audio track available and is about as gum-flapping as the next dub track over the likely original Mandarin, the native language track that’s presented on the standard definition presentation of “Underground Wife” in the special features. Foley’s fine with timely inclusions in the fight sequences and other naturally prescribed milieu audio bytes important for the story. English SDH subtitle are optionally available. On the first disc, “Underground Wife,” the feature’s original title and as I already mentioned available in the special features in standard definition, is a bonus version of the film in the original language audio. Also included an audio commentary by Podcast on Fire Network’s Kenneth Brorsson and Paul Fox as well as the “Kill Butterfly Kill” trailer. The second disc contains the remix of the 1982 film with the release of a 1987 “American Commando 6: Kill Butterfly Kill” with more-or-less the same premise except with the newly shot and edited in scenes of International Film Distributor (IFD Films and Arts Ltd.) regulars Mike Abbott and Mark Miller intercut to fit into the narrative that’s expanded by bringing in a powerful crime boss syndicate and his endless Rolodex of assassins. Also scanned and restored in 4K, “American Command 6: Kill Butterfly Kill” has a little more color in the cheeks and is in much healthier celluloid shape. I actually like the bastardized, Frankenstein cut better because of not only the image quality but because the fights show more intensity, but this isn’t to say “Kill Butterfly Kill” scrapes are poorly orchestrated – just different. The second disc also comes with the trailer and an IFD trailer compilation. The non-slipcovered release is housed in a clear Blu-ray Amaray with reversible cover art – one for each of the features. Inside, there’s a disc on either side of the cast featuring composite and illustration art for the respective features. Both films are region free and are not rated with “Kill Butterfly Kill” clocking in at 87-minutes and “American Commando 6: Kill Butterfly Kill” done in 90-minutes.

Last Rites: IFD had procured the rights to “Underground Wife” and mercilessly re-edited and re-mixed the storyline through the meatgrinder, producing two English exports for quick cash, and while intelligible to extent, each version carries a volatile variation that leads to a problematic personality disorder that loses sight of the story’s initial purpose. In the end, the differences denote diversity within the same framework, like facelifting a building with its original good steel bones, and shows how fluid and flexible the editing room can be as long as possibilities and creativity can prevail.

“Kill Butterfly Kill” – Both Films Available on Blu-ray!

This Spy’s Sex Serum Will Drive Men EVILLY Mad! “Blue Rita” reviewed! (Full Moon Features / Blu-ray – DVD)

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Misandrist Blue Rita owns a high-end gentlemen’s cabaret.  Her renowned nightclub is also a front for espionage activities.  With the help of a Bergen, her handling, and her right-hand club manager Gina, she’s fed male targets that are affluent and powerful to kidnap and torture to extract sensitive intelligence information.  As a side hustle, a perk that comes with exploiting the naked and chained up men in her underground boxed cells, Blue Rita uses her chemical powers of seduction to sexually torture her captives into withdrawing their bank accounts dry.  When new girl Sun is hired in to not only titillate the nightclub client with her erotic Pippi Longstocking performances, the Blue Rita pledger works her first mission to reel in a wealthy, international boxer as the next target but Sun’s own conflictions collide with Rita’s sworn hate for all men, cracking the door open ajar just enough for Interpol and the Russian intelligence agencies to try and undermine Blue Rita’s confrontational spy operations. 

What’s renowned most about eurotrash filmmaker Jesus (Jess) Franco is his diverse contributions to the European and American movie-making markets.  Though most of his work is regarded as schlocky, beneath the sleaze and sordidness is a carefully calculating psychotronic director.  True, Franco may not be famously esteemed as, let’s say Martin Scorsese or Steven Spielberg, but his infamy should not be ignored amongst the present company of similar filmmakers like Tinto Brass or even Roman Polanski.  One of the late Franco’s few spy game theme films, “Blue Rita” is a hot house of sleaze and deceit, written by the director.  Filmed in Germany with German actors and actresses, the film went under the original title “Das Frauenhaus” translated as “The House of Women,” referring to the Blue Rita’s distaste for men and keeping an all-femme fatale, and mostly nude, workforce for her clandestine affairs.  Elite Film is the production company with Erwin C. Deitrich (“Love Letters of a Portuguese Nun,” “Swedish Nympho Slaves”) producing.

Much like Franco’s diverse dips into a variety of subgenres, “Blue Rita’s” cast is also quite an assorted lot in talent from sexploitation, horror, and the XXX industry.  The German production also garnered not just homefield advantage with German actors but also lured into the fold some of the French cast cuisine to spice up the affair.  Martine Fléty is one of those French foreigners, embodying the lead role of Blue Rita.  An adult actress of primarily the 70s, “Blue Rita” became Fléty only titular role but wasn’t her last Jess Franco feature, having continued her X-rated run with the director in “Elles Font Tout,” “I Burn All Over,” and “Claire.”  Either half or entirely naked for the entire narrative, Fléty’s comfortability bare-bottom relays power in her performance as an unwavering femme fatale agent that has men begging for sex and begging for their very lives.  Back then, the lines blurred between porn and sexploitation, often times melding into European coalescence hitting the same marquee theaters until it’s eventual separation.  Esther Moser (“Around the World in 80 Beds,” “Ilsa, The Wicked Warden”), Angela Ritschard (“Jack the Ripper,” “Bangkok Connection”), Vicky Mesmin (“Dancers for Tangier,” “Love Inferno”), Roman Huber (“Girls in the Night Traffic,” “Sex Swedish Girls in a Boarding School”), Olivier Mathot (“Diamonds of Kilimandjaro,” “French Erection”) and Pamela Stanford (“Sexy Sisters,” “Furies sexuelles”) rode, among other things, that fine line between grindhouse gauche and the taboo and certainly do well to incorporate both traits in Franco’s equally indeterminate genre film.  German actor and one of the principal leads Eric Falk (“Caged Women,” Secrets of a French Maid”) too dappled between crowds as a tall, dark, and chiseled chin but the actor chiefly sought limelight in sexploitation and as the haughty boxer Janosch Lassard, who karate chops at lightning speed, Falk adds to “Blue Rita’s” sexy-spy thriller.  Opposite the titular vixen is “Wicked Women’s” Dagmar Bürger who, like the rest of the cast, have crossed paths in a handful of exploitation exciters.  Bürger has perhaps the least built-up character Sun as she’s subtly folded into Blue Rite’s innermost circle without as much as a single ounce of doubt in her character, perhaps due in part to Bergen, Blue Rita’s handler, was once Sun’s direct-to, but Sun becomes the impetus key to everything falling apart at the seams and her role’s framework feels unsatisfactory just as her crumbling infatuation that’s more arbitrary than motivationally centric.

“Blue Rita” doesn’t necessarily broach as a film by Jess Franco whose typical undertakings are coated with sleazy gothic and historical context.  The 1979 feature, set around the extraction of international intelligence data by way of chemical approach, not terribly farfetched considering how the CIA once used LSD as a truth serum, is about as sordid and sexually graphic as any Jess Franco film gets but brings about a futuristic air laced with not just super cool spy gadgets and weaponry, to which there are really none to speak of as an example, there lies a more ultramodern verge upon unseen in much of the earlier, Spanish-born director’s work.  A futuristic holding pen with a capacity no bigger than an industrial-sized washing machine with a descending spiked barred ceiling, a hyper-aphrodisiac goo that makes men so horny it puts them on the edge of insanity and death, and the sleek, contemporary sex room with translucent furniture and stark white walls all in the routine hustle and bustle of Paris, France. “Blue Rita’s” contrarian patinas add to the film’s colorful charisma of avant-garde stripteases and a black operations nightclub, two of which combined play more into the “Austin Powers” funky 1970s ecosphere rather than in the high-powered espionage world of James Bond, the Roger Moore years.

For the first time on Blu-ray in the North American market, Full Moon Features puts out into the world a fully remastered, high-definition, 2-disc Blu-ray and DVD set. The AVC encoded, 1080p, BD25 entails picture perfect image quality that sharpen “Blue Rita” with greater resolution in comparison to previous DVD versions with full-bodied color, in setting tones and in body tones, and a contour-creating delineation that establishes depth and texture better, presented in a widescreen 1.85:1 aspect ratio. Not flawless mind you with soft spots rearing up every so often in the variety of interior and exterior, organically and inorganically lit scenes but there’s distinct contrast that delivers a recognizing lighting scheme that deepens the shadows in the right places without signs of an inadequate compression, especially on a single layer Blu-ray, and the Full Moon release retains natural grain with no DNR or other image enhancements. The release comes with two audio options, a lossy Dolby Digital 5.1 and a French Dolby Digital 2.0 Stereo, both of which have a horrendously acted burned-in English dub of not the original actors’ voices. Banal dub does take the quality of Franco’s dialogue down a good peg or two, which the original dub track was likely spoken in native German and some French judging by the cast list nationalities and where the bigger distribution market was for the planned; yet, though the dialogue is verbose and ploddingly straightforward to make do, losing some of the depth in the process, the quality is voluminous to ensure no mistake is made in underemphasizing the story’s outline when necessary. Ambience and other design markers hit more than well enough to sell the surroundings and the action to make those qualities palpable. English subtitles are option but not available on the setup; they will have to added in per your setup’s options. The Blu-ray extras come with a rare photo gallery, an archived interview with Chris Alexander with Peter Strickland discussing Franco circa 2013, and a vintage Jess Franco Trailer Reel. The DVD houses a different set of special features, separate from the Blu-ray’s, with Slave in the Women’s House interview with Eric’s Falk plus the DVD also offers Eurocine trailers. Those interested in supplementary content will be forced to pop in both discs to fully abreast of all bonus material. What’s eye-catching about the Full Moon Feature’s release is the erotic front cover on the cardboard O-slipcover, sleekly illustrated for your kink and perversive pleasure. The Blu-ray Amary inside has a NSFW story still of Dagmar Bürger walking down a spiral staircase in the buff. The same Dagmar Bürger image graces the DVD cover while a new illustrated luscious lips are pressed on the Blu-ray disc opposite side. There is no insert or booklet included. The region free release has a runtime of 78 minutes and is not rated.

Last Rites: The late Jess Franco may have a cache full of sleaze in his repertoire, but the director had a sense of panache and intensity that’s sorely underrated outside his fanbase. “Blue Rita” shows Franco’s range, stylistically and genre, and Full Moon’s sultry release is now high-definition gold in the color blue.

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This One Has the EVIL Touch! “The Hand” reviewed! (Synergetic / DVD)

“The Hand” Pops Onto DVD at Amazon! Click Here to Purchase.

After a night of heavy drinking, Bong-soo wakes up from a strange nightmare.  The nightmare continues when he habitually walks into the bathroom and discovers a grotesque hand sticking up and out of the toilet bowl.  The confused yet calm Bong-soo wakes his wife who passes out at the sight after the hand twitches right in front of them.  Bong-soo calls 911 to report the strange occurrence and when his residence’s security guard and the dispatched EMTs check out the scene and see his wife passed out on the floor and a supposed severed hand sticking out of the toilet, the unbelievable scenario spirals into suspicion and Bong-soo is detained for suspected gruesome acts of foul play, but when the hand violent moves again and the bathroom door suddenly becomes stuck, those left standing, out of the hand’s deadly reach, are left with only toiletries at their disposal to do battle against the a force their unable to flush.

Preying on one of the more irrational fears that something will slither up the toilet while you make the business, “The Hand” extends that fear with a supernatural startlement.  Shot in 2020 but released in 2023, “The Hand,” or “The Hand:  Attack of the Things” is to the degree of a ghostly-demonic thriller sprinkled with dry humor from South Korea by writer-director Choi Yun-ho, claustrophobically shot inside an apartment bathroom which, and let’s be being honest, is roomier than most bathrooms in two-story houses.  Toilet horror is a subgenre that’s not everyone’s cup of eau de toilette but has resiliently found a niche audience and continues to live quietly in the indie shadows, such as with Evan Jacob’s “Death Toilet” films, Matthew Mark Hunter’s “Killer Poop” franchise, and the Asian market, specifically, has an interest in potty horror-humor, “Zombie Ass:  Toilet of the Dead” instantly comes to mind.  However, the absurdity of these titles doesn’t infect Choi Yun-ho’s less feces-filled horror, focusing more on the curled, demonically-skinned hand from out of the toilet.  “The Hand” is a feature presented by Korea Creative Content Agency and Inoi Media and a production of Spooky House, and R202 studio.

With an intimate setting comes an intimate cast to do battle with the mysteriously unknown monstrous hand.  Lee Jae-won is up to the task, or, well, placidly taking in the situation with subtle caution, as the expressionless alcoholic husband Bong-soo.  The regular Korean television actor infiltrates into his first leading man feature, or perhaps barely a feature with a film runtime of under 60-minutes, tackling close-quarter dynamics and a computer-generated thing with finger fingers, elongated fingernails, and a reach that turns the already compact bathroom into practically the size of a coat closet.  Considering the mention of his drinking problem more than once, Bong-soo’s alcoholism isn’t one of the more centric elements, especially at the chagrin of his wife Joohee (Jeong Seo-ha) to create a dynamic hurdle to arc over.  Once the building security guard (Soo-ho Ahn) and 3-person 911 team, with Park Sang-wook portraying lead paramedic, the energy devolves to a humorous suspicion of Bong-soo and the pigeon-hearted presence of the lead paramedic as the two men ever so lightly buttheads in a confounding position and through the progression of the ordeal, the squabbling pair form along the way a bond out of insta-desperation.  When the wife finally revives, another breakthrough moment between Bong-soo and his wife becomes realized that they’ll never take each other for granted again as they do slow motion poses and battles with an army of apartment wall-protruding hands who carry a deadly touch.  The jagged line graph tone maintains a comedic constant right through the heart of “The Hand” that lets the characters sway freely in various complexions without jarring their principles too flippantly. 

The titular hand is a fully operational character in itself.  A complete CGI mockup straight from the backstory sewers of Hell, conceived from a threadbare anecdote of a woman found dead in a nearby sewer tunnel with her arm missing a few days prior told by the paramedic leader.  That arm, with gnarled hand attached, is thought and assumed to be the same wretched one sticking ominously straight up and out from the toilet bowl.  Texturally, the synthetically composited hand looks pretty darn good with barely a trace of smoothed over plastic-splash veneer.  These scenes are also intermixed with a rubber hand cast with obvious contrast against the CGI hand.  That is until the arm extends feet beyond its chamber pot dwelling to tightly grip unsuspecting prey, like a crocodile lying in wait.  When in more a realistic scale, the hand’s movements are tremendously naturally looking with the help of green-suited animator and between appearance and mobility, the captured result, though miniscule in size appropriate for the indie film, has realistic attraction that edges “The Hand” out of the absurdity of circumstances and into more thrilling territory while still focus lit by comedic lighting.  The characters themselves are the more farcical models in comparison with representatives often aloof or arrogantly confident with ostentation as terror responses straddling between nonsensical and pragmaticism.  

“The Hand” arrives onto DVD home video from Synergetic, presented in a widescreen 1.78:1 aspect ratio on a MPEG2 encoded, standard definition, DVD5.  Decoding at a fairly high compression rate of 7 to 8Mbps, image quality has a fair amount of detail and color saturation from off the lesser disc capacity.  Facial details can appear soft throughout, sometime blotchy or waxy that fuses the contours and skin without delineation, and the CGI hand, though textured nicely, can have an early day video game blockiness about it in a handful of scenes.  The surround locations, such as bathroom and apartment, are hue balanced and display distinct visual variation.  The Korean Dolby Digital 2.0 mix is the only audio option available that comes with burned in English subtitles.  Dialogue renders over clearly inside the natural digital recording and prominent amongst the rest of the mix, isolating the changing levels of inflections and tones of what the moment calls for.  The English subtitles synch consistently with the action, but there are spot grammatical errors.  Aside from the play and chapter menu selection on the static menu, there are no selectable bonus features.  The after credits contains how the CGI scenes are composited together so stay tuned after the movie.  The scroll-like artwork with a monstrous hand, illustrated with a mock age-fading, is really neat visually and well-done.  Inside the bendy Amary case is just the disc with the same artwork in concise form.  With the region free playback, the Synergetic release runs at 62 minutes and, assumingly, comes unrated, as the rating is not listed on the back cover.

Last Rites:  Comedy and horror create stationary white-knuckle tension in “The Hand” despite not reining in a tightfisted backstory on the hand itself which ultimately turns the five fingered paw into more of a marginal footnote. 

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Re-Electrifying a Dead Cop to Stop EVIL! “The Blue Jean Monster” reviewed! (88 Films / Blu-ray)

Click Here to Purchase “The Blue Jean Monster” available on Blu-ray!

Soon-to-be first-time dad Tsu Hsiang can’t wait to meet his son.  Often times, his cop vocation intrudes on being there for his wife during her pregnancy as his torn between work and family, trying to be a good man in both regards, but when a tip comes through of a suspected bank robbery, Hsiang can’t neglect his duty and pursues the thieves in a high speed and gun-blazing chase that ends in his death as a construction site pile of steel rebar crushes him during the arrest.  His corpse left under the rebar overnight, a storm causes a transformer to fall on top of him and a cat providing a mystical lifeforce.  The electrical currents course through his dead body, reanimating him with the superhuman strength and invulnerable to pain, but with a cost as Tsiang is slowly rotting away, unable to heal or enjoy any of his senses.  Tsiang also has to recharge his body with electrical volts direct to body in order to continue being reanimated.  With time running out, the cop’s two goals are to meet his unborn child and to capture the gang responsible for him becoming an undead monster. 

While “The Blue Jean Monster” is not the eminent representation of comedy-action with elements of science fictional horror to come out of the Hong Kong movie industry, the early 90’s Category III film does rank high marshalling an entertaining “Dead Heat” (1988) interpretation for Eastern audiences.  The sophomore film of director Ivan Lai, aka Kai-Ming Lai, (“Daughter of Darkness,” “The Peeping Tom”) and the last script credit for Kam-Hung Ng emerges as a bucket list imbroglio of the inexplicable mysticisms at play as well as the good die young but win in the end.  The Jonathan Chow (“Haunted Jail House”) produced film is a coproduction of Golden Harvest Films, Diagonal Pictures, and Paragon Films. 

Not just a mindless killing machine resurrected like an electrified phoenix for revenge and murderous rout, Tsu Hsiang’s rebirth out of death arouses complications around fleeting special moments.  Playing exactly his profile of a mid-30-year-old is the late “Her Vengeance” and “The Killer” actor Fui-on Shing as a cop torn between life and death, literally.  Struggling to comprehend what’s happened to him, Tsu Hsiang has no time to explore the root cause; instead, Hsiang instantly moves forward, learning on the fly, his newfound postmortem powers of invulnerability, immense strength, and to be exasperated right into a pale-eyed version of the angry Hulk.  Shing’s duality on levity and fierce cleaves “The Blue Jean Monster” into its well-intended multifaceted of genres with soft buttery ease.  Shing’s square jaw and large frame doesn’t quell the lighter touch he brings an even softer side to Tsu Hsiang with his intake of Power Steering (Wai-Kit Tse, “Mr. Vampire 1992”), a street nickname for a former hooligan took under Hsiang’s wing after killing his father, in a supposed criminal altercation gone awry.  Power Steering best friend Gucci (“Gloria Yip, “Riki-Oh: The Story of Ricky”) becomes the primary target for the gang as she inadvertently becomes a hostage and winds up with the thieves’ hard stolen loot.  The circular, trifold connection between Hsiang, the troublesome young acquaintances, and the gang, helmed by Japanese actor Jun Kunimura (“Audition”) creates double edged complications Hsiang has to juggle and manage while being undead and a soon-to-be father.  Mei-yee Wu, Bei-Dak Lai, and “Mr. Vampire’s” Siu-Fung Wong playing Fui-on Shing’s wife Chu along with “Sex and Zen” star Amy Yip as the lustfully bosomed Death Ray, a gay man conversion therapy seductress, fill out the cast. 

The 1991 film has fast-paced action, politically incorrect humor, and spectacular physical and hand-drawn visual effects.   “The Blue Jean Monster” relied heavily on the skill of the cast and crew to elevate a staggering, fast-and-loose story that barely bridges gaps of its presaged plot holes.  There’s also some fast-and-loose editing slips that expose oversights, such as reused unmasking scene of Jun Kunimura’s head robber and showing five members of a five-member gang huddled behind a flipped van in a scene that was supposed to be sans Kunimura as his character was chasing after Gucci and the money through a construction zone.  Yet, “The Blue Jean Monster” is too enjoyable, too funny, and too drop-dead neat that any and all flaws can be written off as negligible.  Heedless humor encapsulates an antiquated way of thinking that shapes “The Blue Jean Monster” into a time bygone novelty.  When Tsu and Power Steering are suspected gay lovers, as they’re physically intertwined in electrocution to recharge Tsu undeadness, and AIDs becomes the center of the joke, casually tossed in a handful of times even by the brief portrayal of two colorfully sweater-wearing, feminine-displayed men wanting nothing to do with Tsu and Power Steering’s misperceived actions for fear of the deadly virus.  That just epitomizes the slapstick wackiness this not typical but warranted Cat III feature that transfixes with a lot of borderline insensitive satire kneaded into the modish action and special effects of every other Hong Kong film in a saturated market. 

“The Blue Jean Monster” takes over United States and North America courtesy of the UK distributor 88 Films, through MVD Visual from the Fortune Star Media Limited catalogue, with a new AVC encoded, 1080p high definition, Blu-ray.  The BD50 comes top of the line within the limits of the format with a bitrate decoding the original aspect ratioed widescreen 1.85:1 presented and newly restored 2K scanned film an average of at or just under 35Mbps.  Nearly being a non-issue coinciding with a pristine original print, the dual layer disc offers plenty of breathing room to display “The Blue Jean Monster’s’ range of motion, sufferable color palette, painted composite effects, and masterstrokes in lighting a fast-paced pressing without the blight of artefacts.  A few darker scenes are not as rich because of compositional effects but still render significantly with detail under a slightly more penetrating grain.  The overall grain naturally infuses with the 35mm print and translates nicely to a transferred digital scan.   The original, uncompressed Cantonese LPCM 2.0 mono track is the sole offering that, in truth, is all this comical, cosmic caper needs with agreeable action Foley and ambience and some looney absurdity tacked on for good measure.  None of the assortment ever sounds pressed and squished through the single channel suggesting a pretty clean, well-kempt sound design from over the years.  ADR dialogue favors less spatial position but that’s expected with 90’s Hong Kong cinema and is also well-preserved in its fidelity with a clear and damage free recording.  English subtitles are optionally available.  This special edition includes a new interview with assistant director Sam Leong Man Made Monster, the original Hong Kong trailer, and image gallery.  The limited-edition set comes with reflective and glistening slipcase sheathing the same but lusterless composite illustration, artwork created by James Neal.  Inside the green Amaray Blu-ray case, the reverse side of the cover art sports the original Hong Kong one sheet illustration stretching both ends, inferring nearly all the action and characters in the story, along with a doubled-sided cardboard poster of the reversible cover art.  The not rated release comes region locked on A and B and has a runtime of 96 minutes.

Last Rites: If a fan of “Dead Heat,” “The Blue Jean Monster” can prolong the action-caffeinated, narcotized high with supercharged unrest, necropsy humor, and the walking, talking, inexplicable undead in another stellar package and quality release from 88 Films!

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Your Train Has Come in on the Platform EVIL! “The Ghost Station” reviewed! (Well Go USA / Blu-ray)

Cho-Cho-Choose “The Ghost Station” on Blu-ray!

The Oksu train station’s past has incur many strange occurrences over the 17-years since it’s construction but more recently has seen a string of bizarre deaths. When a public service worker Woon-won witnesses a man’s death on the rails, he reluctantly informs friend Na-young, a struggler gossip journalist in need of a good, multi-click story after being hit with a lawsuit from her previous writeup and landing in hot water with the editor. As Na-young and Woon-won dig deeper to save Na-young’s begrudging career, they soon discover there’s more to this story than meets the eye as train station commuters and workers begin exhibiting scratches over their arms and neck. Those marked eventually die horribly. Bodies pile up as the story leads Na-young to the past of a razed orphanage and visions of grotesque children become the center of the young journalist’s investigation until her friend Woon-won displays the same marks. Now, they must solve the curse before it’s too late.

Based off the real Oksu Station operated by Seoul Metro in the Seongdong-gu district of South Korea and the short digital manhwa webtoon entitled “The Ghost Station of Oksu” from Horang’s Nightmare, the 2022 movie adaptation “The Ghost Station” waters the short story webtoon and grows a surrounding plot around the only adapted portion of a near empty Oksu platform except for one bench-sitting man and a stumbling lady who appears to be intoxicated.   The South Korean-Japanese co-produced picture is written-and-directed by So-young Lee (“Apt”) and Hiroshi Takahashi, the latter is the Japanese filmmaker behind the popular “Ringu” series which crosses orient borders by being the most important or influential in “The Ghost Station’s” inhabited identical J-horror elements.   Co-productions Mystery Picture and ZOA Films pull the train into “The Ghost Station,” produced by Yoo Jang-Hun and is theatrically distributed globally between Smile Entertainment and Contents Panda.

The webtoon is only a leaping point for the film version.  Not establishing any cited characters in the illustrated horror story, a whole new plot is built around and extended upon the webtoon narrative of the drunk platform woman that ends in a horrific accident for the young gawker on his phone texting ridicule commentary of her inebriation.  Story continues with a gossip Na-Young on the heels of being reprimanded for not receiving consent for her story of labeling her subject a him despite being very convincingly a woman in looks.  Bo-ra Kim plays the tenacious yet conflicted journalist, self-deprecating her career as clickbait material rather than honorable news reporting until the supernatural Oksu Station occurrences shed light on a bigger, corruptible conspiracy.   The “Ghost Mansion” actress sleeps through what should be a cold-clenching tale of sprog spirits and callous coverups that form a mighty-gripped grudge on those unlucky enough traipsing through the station yet doesn’t really affect her directly.  Oppositely, her friend Woon-wan epitomizes exaggerated fright within the performance of Jae Hyun Kim who can express translated fear in breath holding moments but outside of that Kim dons childish whimpering and yelling as if it’s a fad.  Together, the actors cancel out their characters flaws by embodying one investigative team as a public station worker and a journalist uncovering the truth and to save themselves the next victims of vicinity vindictive spirits.  “The Ghost Station’s” richer performances are yoked by stinted deuteragonists that actually drive the story but feel suspended in their integrated impact and relegated to being flashbacks or wedged into one particular location without a ton of exposition or background.  The dictatorial gossip editor (Kim Na-Yoon), the creepy alcoholic mortician (Kang-il Kim, “I Saw the Devil”), and the first victim’s externally anxious, psychosomatic dreaming sister (Shin So-yul, “Pyega”) are colorfully acted, complex in character, and plod the story along intrinsically, yet they’re underutilized hanging around the peripheral with only the sister edging out the other two with a more direct connection to the grudge or curse. 

Without unwrapping “The Ghost Station” before watching the film, the story progresses along without any cause for concern with a supernatural sleuth story of a horrible train accident causing a domino effect of curses.  Deeper into the feature, a water well becomes a focal object, then abnormal faces of ghastly children appear, and the principals are using keywords, like grudge, grudge this, grudge that, and where have we heard of this before?  With Hiroshi Takahashi “Ringu” films dappled intermittently with “Ju-on” insignias that turn the initially promising K-Horror into a full blown J-Horror in repeated attire.  While directors So-young Lee and Hiroshi Takahashi are able to garner a handful of scares through technique, makeup effects, and morose aesthetics and dolor, “The Ghost Station” has a creative deficiency as there are just too many coincidental “Ringu” and “Ju-on” suspense devices to craft an original curse tale despite the positivity just oozing out from the idea of two nations blending their respective horror niches into one project that dissects the integrity of the individual.  Na-young’s ethical dilemma as a tabloid journalist carries weight and is tiptoed around when her editor urges for better clickbait material, Woon-won struggles with self-preservation and a friendship bond, and other minor examples add up to the summation of choice.  Many made bad choices that resulted in an orphanage full of pissed off preadolescents using their spook powers for premeditated parricide.   

Walk down to the platform and wait for your train to come into “The Ghost Station,” servicing now on Blu-ray home video from Well Go USA Entertainment.  The AVC encoded, 1080p High-Definition, BD25 is presented in a widescreen 2.39:1 aspect ratio.  What the release showcases, as far as image quality, is a more than adequate transfer of the substantially tenebrous picture that renders shadows without analogous banding or splotching.  The low-light grading offers a polished appearance with deep, rich shadows to provide a natural ominous atmosphere and partially shroud characters without compromising distinctive detailing.  The Korean language audio options include a DTS-HD Master Audio 5.1 and a Dolby Digital 2.0 Stereo track. A more than viable digital audio recording that clear and comprehensible with formidable sound design for quotidian scare devices that abled to still produce fear, using the back and side channels to flesh out the scare factor in a fine-tuned direction. Dialogue’s renders nicely without any technical or interfering barriers. English subtitles are optionally available, come error free, and pace well with the rapid Korean dialect. Like many of the Well Go USA titles, not a ton of bonus features are inlaid and the same is said with “The Ghost Station” that only holds trailers for other Well Go USA Entertainment films. In a traditional Amary Blu-ray case, the front cover pays homage to the Horang webtoon. Inside, an advert insert is included with other Well Go USA films from the company’s Hi-Yah! collection. The not rated feature has an 80-minute runtime and has a region A playback only. ”The Ghost Station” undertakes a mesh of identity between K-Horror and J-Horror that sought to pull up to the platform as a singular, supernatural, scare package and, in the end, the film pulls in as a train of consumable terror.

Cho-Cho-Choose “The Ghost Station” on Blu-ray!