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Fulci Turns Back Time to Bring EVIL Back from the Dead! “The House of Clocks” reviewed! (Cauldron Films / Blu-ray)

Posted by Steven Lewis on

“The House of Clocks” Delivers Time as an Illusion. Blu-ray now available!

An isolated Italian villa becomes the looting target for three thieves looking for an easy score.  Villa residents, an elderly couple, are tricked into letting them into their estate adorned with elegant clocks of all shapes and sizes but as the plane unfolds it goes awry when the imposing grounds man arrives and both homeowners are killed.  Yet, the villa owners were no saints and no ordinary couple as soon as the husband’s heart stops, the clocks begin to move counterclockwise and that’s when the peaceful villa turns into a strange nightmare where time goes in reverse and those short and long dead come back to life with wounds miraculously healed as if it never happened.  As time continues to reverse, the thieves find themselves trapped inside the house and on estate grounds being hunted down by the merciless grounds man, but the skeletons in the elderly couple’s closet will soon resurrect and be thirsty for vengeance.

“The House of Clocks” is the Lucio Fulci made-for-TV movie that never saw the light of television programing.  Deemed too gory and violent for public broadcast, Fulci’s 1989 Italian film, to which he created the concept for and the screenplay treated by the duo team of Gianfranco Clerici  of “Cannibal Holocaust” and Daniele Stroppa of “Delirium,” was shelved for many years until it’s eventual home video release because, as you can tell just from the high-powered Italian horror names attached to the project, the finished film would certainly frighten those general audiences with easy turn-of-the-knob and bunny ear-antenna access.  Also known natively as “La casa nel Tempo,” was a part of a four-film horror special surrounding a theme of the houses of doom and was a production of Dania Film and Reteitalia production companies with “You’ll Die at Midnight” and “Delirium” producers Massimo Manasse and Marco Grillo Spina serving as executive producers.

The film initially opens with Maria, the nosy for her own good housemaid, discovering two rotting corpses ostentatiously displayed in the villa’s chapel.  Why Maria (Carla Cassola, “Demonia” and “The Sect”) decides to snoop around is not explained but the act does start a chain events, leading up to elder Villa owners in Sara Corsini and her clock obsessed husband Vittorio, played by the role age appropriate Bettine Milne (“The King’s Whore”) and Paolo Paoloni (“Cannibal Holocaust”) in a lot more makeup and prosthetics to make him appear as an older man.  As mysterious senior citizens go, Milne and Paoloni are the malevolently cryptic under a façade of geniality, possessing and maintaining the corpses of their niece and nephew they’ve murdered in order to keep their wealth.  The backstory between the two pairs has vague clarity but there’s enough to keep the pistons pumping toward the crux of why the uncanny time about-face.  While, again, no sense of explanation on why time reverses, we’re under the assumption Paolo is essentially Father Time, a personification of the time concept represented as an old, bearded man with an hour glass and a scythe to represent a span from life to death.  When thieves Paul (Peter Hintz, “Zone Troopers”), Tony (Keith Van Hoven, “Black Demons”), and Sandra (Karina Huff, “Voices from Beyond”) put an end to the Corsinis, that is when time stops and reverses itself, affecting the once dead to return back to life, and creating a nightmare scenario for now three trapped thieves under the chase of not only the Corsinis but those also killed by the Corsinis as their deteriorating bodies rejuvenate into active flesh and bone as well as flesh and blood.  “The Beyond” and “Zombie’s” Al Cliver rounds out the principal cast and the overall cast with his menacingly evil, Corsini’s jack-of-all-trades grounds man with a scarred over eye and a double barrel shotgun to hunt down the thieves.

“The House of Clock’s” is quite an interesting concept without a durably designed reason for all the madnesses.  At its core, three thieves home invade an older couple for their valuable objects and accidently kill them in the process when the standoff goes bad.  With that oversimplified version of events, a hellish cog in the pocket watch gearbox links the old man’s ticker with the tons of tickers that adorn his villa home, causing a chain reaction of turn back the clock proportions to which audiences never receive a proper understanding and while this may bother a sample size few, most will find the story too weird, gory, and trepidatious tense to care in what becomes a fair-game free-for-all against all characters who don’t have an ounce of virtue.  The lot of thieves, schemers, and murders are all trapped inside time’s ill-reverse affect without a sign of slowing down and while it might seem advantageous at first for some, as time continues to revert, the worse the situation becomes as old adversaries emerge from their graves and tombs.  Fulci’s visualized gore also emerges through with the fantastic effects by Guiseppe Ferranti, including a high right through the crotch impalement.  Ferranti would also be behind the effects for two other the house of doom television movies.

“The House of Clocks” may not have been safe for television but for a new Cauldron Films Blu-ray, the Lucio Fulci film fits right in and comes in the nick of time!  Restored from a 2K scan of the 35mm film negative, the AVC encoded, 1080p high-definition, BD50 offers a visually invigorated, audibly astounding, and special features saturated release that presents Fulci’s lesser known and once previously shelved work!  Presented in a European widescreen 1.66:1, color saturation is beyond reproach with a beautifully natural grading that pops textures and objects right off the screen, adding density and tangibility to each.  Disc capacity affords the codec compression with no artefact issues in the reproducing of the encoded image that nearly replicates an ideal exhibition and appearance of a made-for-TV movie, especially in the macabre moment where extra slimy ooziness of the decaying corpses or the perforation of the servant’s crotch area is as clear as clear can get without misinterpretation.  Skin tones aren’t flared and are naturally set within a healthy, though smoother, grain layer.  The release comes with two audio mixes – a PCM English 2.0 mono and a PCM Italian 2.0 mono.  Both tracks are produced from ADR and have been scrubbed with no issues of hissing or crackling.  There’s a brilliant touch of echoing within the estate to create reverberations and a range, open quality to the exterior dialogue.  Vince Tempera’s synth piano is a ticking measure of modified vocals and integrated milieu elements with a organ tone like quality that’s ghoulishly soft.  English subtitles are optional on both mixes.  Special features include a handful of new interviews from behind-the-camera with cinematographer Nino Celeste Lighting the House of Time, composer Vince Tempera Time and Music, first assistant director Michele De Angelis Working with a Master, FX artist Elio Terribili Time with Fulci, as well as unmentioned archival interviews with actors Paolo Paoloni, Al Cliver, and Carla Cassola.  There’s a parallel audio commentary with film historians and critics Eugenio Ercolani, Nathaniel Thompson, and Troy Howarth who regularly step in to commentate on Italian horror.  Graphic artist Matthew Therrien designs an illustrative composition artwork, pulling inspiration from the film’s most iconic and chaotic moments, while Eric Lee designs the titular logo sitting pretty dead center.  The reverse side of the cover art displays a rotting hand still from the movie.  The 19th title has a clear Amaray that houses a cropped version of the front cover image pressed onto the disc, which is region free, uncut, and has an 83-minute runtime.

Last Rites: Most people wish they could turn back time. For Lucio Fulci and his penchant for beyond death, going counterclockwise in “The House of Clocks” is more frightening and deadly as time can’t be owned and controlled. Simply put, there’s just no stopping the sands of time, forwards or backwards, for the past will catch up to you and the future is mercilessly uncertain.

“The House of Clocks” Delivers Time as an Illusion. Blu-ray now available!

With Fame Comes Absurd EVIL Exploitation. “A Tale of Sorrow and Sadness” reviewed! (Radiance Films / Limited-Edition Blu-ray)

Posted by Steven Lewis on

Limited Edition Blu-ray of “A Tale of Sorrow and Sadness” Now Available!

To compete against a rival fashion magazine who found profound success after hiring a famous gymnast as their spokesmodel, an ambitious fashion company sees potential in amateur golfer Reiko Sakuraba with her beauty, grace, and a decent enough golf game.  The only problem is Reiko has not won a championship.  The fashion company representative and Reiko’s sport’s columnist writer/manager/boyfriend Miyake strike a deal to get intensely train and mentally exhaust Reiko to be the best by the next tournament.  When Reiko outperforms the tournament’s veteran players, she instantly becomes a fashion icon and celebrity that leads to her own show for the magazine, photoshoots, and a large house in the middle of the suburbs.  Miyake’s aloof behavior continues even after Reiko’s success and while he drives her back home, he hits-and-runs a woman form the neighborhood who blackmails and guilts Reiko into letting her into the rich and famous lifestyle.  Reiko’s mental health slowly declines as pressures mounts.

“A Tale of Sorrow and Sadness” is a tale of how the sudden rise of fame and fortune can quickly lead to world of hurt through inexperience, obsession, misguided love, abuse, and the day-to-day tasks that can even burden even the most common person.  The story also represents a dichotomy between fame and the mundane.  The 1977 Japanese surreal drama is helmed by Seijun Suzuki, a filmmaker once blacklisted by the head of Nikkatsu Studios after his film for the company, “Branded to Kill,” was deemed terrible by Nikkatsu execs, and rode the filmic bench for nearly a decade until his theatrical release of the Shochiku Ltd. Released production that allowed him the freedom for artistic expression.  Also concisely known as “A Tale of Sorrow,” the Suzuki picture is written by Atsushi Yamatoya based off manga by Ikki Kajiware and produced by Yoshiki Nomura, Kenzo Asada, and Tokuya Shimada.  

Yoko Shiraki steps into the tragic golf-cleated shoes of golfer-turned-spokesmodel Reiko Sakuraba who finds herself unknowingly being exploited as object of marketable objectification.  What’s interesting about Sakuraba is she’s totally alone amongst other adults in a real cutthroat and cruel way through her trajectory of success.  In the fashion world, the magazine representative behind the concept (Masumi Okada, “The Living Skeleton”) only wants her for her beauty and success, her boyfriend Miyake (Yoshio Harada, “Lady Snowblood 2:  Love Song of Vengeance”), and even an once starstruck housewife, Kayo Senba (Kyôko Enami, “Killer Whale”) who was struck by Miyake’s car and resents Reiko’s, blackmailing her way into the superstar golfer’s life by forcing her hand to relinquish all from her worldly possessions to her mind, body, and soul.  Shiraki gifts Sakuraba the fault of inability to say no with her innocence and naivety ravaged and exploited beyond the point of no return and beyond repair but Sakuraba clings to dear life, perhaps even sanity, because of tone person that too only reacts negatively around her but since their blood reaction is thicker in the watery connections manipulating her, Sakuraba’s hand is forced to do much all of the golfing and modeling hell for her adolescent younger brother Jun (Tetsu Mizuno), a smart yet reclusive boy with off screen aggression getting into fights with school bullies stemmed likely by his sister’s constant absence.  Sakuraba’s not only a slave to external obsessions of success, image, and greed but also a slave to internal obsessions with Mikyake who deprives her of the most basic primal needs for financial gain and for manipulative control.  Kôji Wada, Shûji Sano, Noboru Nakaya, sao Tamagawa, Tokie Hidari, and Jô Shishido co-star.

“A Tale of Sorrow and Sadness” is Seijun Suzuki’s tour de force return to feature films.  A linear narrative speckled with surrealistic doses creates an unsettling and bizarre atmosphere of strongarm manipulation on the unassertive character of Reiko Sakuraba.  Her raw talent is mined and minced without much consent and pushed past mental exhaustion and collapse in what is an all too true theme surrounding the early television era of celebrity branding with esteemed figures being puppets for large scale companies in order to sell their promoted products.  Money, image, and success steer the helm without any due remorse to the elegant centerpiece of the room, driving Suzuki’s social commentary to extreme levels of misappropriation of a human person with feelings and ambitions of their own.  Instead, Reiko’s meekness is measured by Suzuki’s fabricated milieu of mistreatment represented partly in a behavioralism of semi-surrealism – Miyake’s stoic aloofness, Senba’s brazen hijack of Reiko’s fame and wealth, and even Jun’s withdraw and reclusion are all good archetype of strange conducts illegitimizing Reiko as person.  She’s dehumanized so much so she stops whatever little rationality she had to begin with and becomes a vessel of command that allowed those around to walk all over her.  Suzuki’s suburban reach toward fame theme is satirical for “A Tale of Sorrow and Sadness’s” thin blanketing of dark comedy and the filmmaker often accentuates the moments with elongated sequences, randomized bits of eccentricity, and highly stylized contrasts of sex and violence as well as commercially sensationalized imagery versus Stepford wives’ expectations.

A bleak absurdist dream, “A Tale of Sorrow and Sadness” becomes rightly a part of the Radiance obscure, high level lineup with a new, limited-edition high-definition transfer Blu-ray release.  The AVC encoded, 1080p, BD50 receives the high definition transfer from the Shochiku Corporation, who currently distributes a fair amount of Anime and since “A Tale of Sorrow and Sadness” is adapted from a Ikki Kajiware’s Manga, the film fits right in, and is presented in by Radiance in the original aspect ratio of a widescreen 2.35:1.  Radiance’s image quality surpasses expectations as visually bold in a wide variety of contrasting colors, especially in primaries of yellow and reds juxtaposed against achromatic shades of brilliant whites and deep blacks.  The original print is beyond pristine with virtually no dust, dirt, scratches, or any kind of visual impediments in what appears to be a well-preserved 35mm reel.  Skin tones appear naturally organic and textures pop in their specific fabrics inside an overlay of natural stock grain for that bare-faced aesthetic of clear based film strip.  The Japanese uncompressed mono PCM audio, again, surpasses expectations with a diverse mix through a single output that creates excellent note individualism rather than an indistinct amalgam.  The omitted compression codec provides the original audio framework comfortably upholding against the test of time without a flurry of issues in the single layer.  Hissing, popping, crackling and other types of interference are kept either suppressed or to a bare minimal in another pristinely kept transfer.  ADR dialogue clearly affixes to the images with synchronous efforts being no worse compared to other films of the era out of Japan.  The newly improved English subtitles render without error, are compositionally more-or-less within syntax range of translation, and pace nicely throughout.  Special features include a new audio commentary by film historian and author Samm Deighan, a new interview with assistant editor Kunihiko Ukai, and the film’s trailer.  The clear Amaray case contains Sam Smith commissioned artwork on an obi-strip included reversible sleeve – primary cover composition is of a live still of exhausted Reiko Sakuraba lying next to a bunker with a spirally title font and the reverse cover is more NSFW with a partially nude Reiko with boyfriend Miyake portrayed in soft, dreamy glow.  The white and red disc is pressed with eye-pleasing contrast and the inserted 31-page color booklet provides cast and crew credits, essay “Sorrow, Sadness, and the Sweet Smell of Excess” by Radiance regular contributor Jasper Sharp, an archive essay “The Realisation of a Seijun Sizuki Film” by Atsushi Yamatoya, and the Blu-ray acknowledgements. “A Tale of Sorrow and Sadness” Radiance Blu-ray has a runtime of 93 minutes, is unrated, and since Radiance is a UK boutique label, collectors and film aficionados will get the best of both worlds with a region A and B playback.

Last Rites: Seijun Suzuki’s return to theatrical feature films with “A Tale of Sorrow and Sadness” is a remarkable comeback for the ages and the decade interruption didn’t even cause a missed step for his artistic expression of exploitation and consumerism control ruining young, raw talent which is a clear-cut archetype of sorrow and sadness.

Limited Edition Blu-ray of “A Tale of Sorrow and Sadness” Now Available!

The EVIL is Not Just in the Virus, but Also in the Cure! “Side Effects May Vary” reviewed! (Tempe Digital / Blu-ray)

Posted by Steven Lewis on

“Side Effects May Vary” From This Blu-ray Drug!

COVID-19 virus has the world masked up and social distancing in full effect with experimental vaccines being rushed toward a rollout.  For Glenn Rollins, being under the weather now for weeks still hasn’t convinced him to inject himself with experimental Government drugs meant to combat coronavirus but when wife Janelle does everything in her persuasive power to convince him to take the vaccine, Glenn reluctantly agrees to receive the shot at his doctor visit the next day.  What Glenn is given is no ordinary coronavirus vaccine, but the new Alpha-21 concoction just released for public intravenous inoculation, an rapidly tested serum that boils subjects from the inside-out.  Instead of completely exploding in a pile of blood and sinew, Glenn’s rare blood type maintains a semi-rigid form and the only way he can maintain from melting into a pile of goo is to feast on the blood and meat of the living in his zombified state.

The cult director behind “The Dead Next Door” and “Robot Ninja,” J.R. Bookwalter, returns to take a hypodermic needle stab at a world-crippling pandemic horror inspired by the COVD-19 virus and how the FDA rushed to approve emergency vaccinations on U.S. citizens in a comically satirical, gore-and-goo-filled comedy-horror.  The movie, “Side Effects May Vary,” is Bookwalter’s first film in over 20-years, the last being “Mega Scorpions” that only saw a streaming release due to a folding in the financing of a distribution deal.  “Psycho Sisters” and “Her Name Was Crista” writer James L. Edwards, who’s collaborated with Bookwalter since the very beginning of the filmmaker’s career, pens the script and also stars in the disturbing desquamation of Glenn role.  “Side Effects May Vary” is the second direct-and-writer production between Bookwalter and Edwards with the first being 1996’s “Polymorph.  As like many of Bookwalter’s films, he produces under his longstanding own indie label Tempe Digital serving as executive producer alongside Edwards producing and wife Lana Bookwalter as associate producer.

I wouldn’t call Glenn Rollins a right-wing conservative antivaxxer but, instead, Glenn’s a doubter of the vaccine’s testing measures with a range of side effects from an experimental injectable could cause from a vaccine so unproven swirling inside his head.  That’s the satirical concept Bookwalter and Edwards put into motion and deliver fully charged as mild-mannered Glenn gorges on the innards of family, friends, neighbors and strangers after unpleasantries arise from an untested product.  The likeable Rollins rears an ugliness brought upon by pressures of vaccination, especially from his wife Janelle, played by indie horror scream queen Tina Krause (“Crimson Nights,” “Bloodletting”).  Another scream queen of legendary acclamation is in on the fun with Brinke Stevens (“The Slumber Party Massacre,” “Sole Survivor”) as the saucy nosy neighbor who knows all the sexual acts by their sporty designations.  We journey from the beginnings of a substance subjugation and are wiggled into a buddy cop scenario between Glenn Rollins’ best friend and former cop turned private eye Jack Murray (Drew Foriter, “Trivial”) and his former boss and one-night-stand Chief Tom Danvers (“Floyd Ewing Jr., “Robot Ninja”) and their sudden thrust into an investigation to find Glen under their distinct impressions of his character, plus that one sexual encounter between them, makes for a good dynamic of sidetracking diversion that interrupts a constant flow, which can get stale, of formality and responsibility of chasing a killer.  The cast Sasha Graham (“Trivial”) as the prescribing primary care physician Dr. Fisher, Wendy Zier (“Trivial”), Tom Hoover (“Ozone”), and David Bachmeier (“Bathtub Shark Attack”) as the first scene test subject of Alpha-21’s explosive results. 

A relief will wash over fans to know J.R. Bookwalter is not dead in the water when it comes to directing.  A long hiatus was exactly what Bookwalter needed to get back to form after a string of mediocre horror that didn’t leave a bad taste in our mouths but wasn’t quite the standard of the Ohioan director’s carnage-laden caliber.  “Side Effects May Vary” spoke to nationwide fears during the global pandemic, in a humorously horrifying way, and even extends beyond that now historical portion of our time into the forefront of our minds that we may have not have yet seen the actual long-term effects of the COVID shots, if any.  The intention of “Side Effects May Vary” is not to instill fear, though does create a fraction of concern, but is more to the tune of exaggerated those once media covered and one-sided fears to the extreme by turning injected patients into boiling potato sacks of putrid cannibalism.  It’s pretty damn funny and gross.  To create a vibrant visual veneer, Bookwalter plays with different lighting angles and color gels of primary neon illumination that takes characters out of the real world and places them into a fantastical neon-noir that surrenders to the sexualized, the scandalous, and the scary story bits and pieces. The buddy-cop, manhunt storyline works as bodies are left as breadcrumbs for the two conflicting investigators that are on the precipice of making a final decision on Glenn Rollin’s fate while Glenn himself battles internally, both physically and emotionally, his wretched state that needs blood to slow down the process of his metaphorizing melting but his mild-manner, nice-guy identity doesn’t want to harm a soul. 

Tempe Digital castrates the COVID cure scare with an incredible liquescent comedy-horror in “Side Effects May Vary” on a director’s cut Blu-ray home video.  The AVC encoded, 1080p high-definition resolution, BD25 comes with a ton of color, contrast lighting, and a decent compression codec that makes the low-budget production appear a step or two up the upscale staircase.  The heavy neon light cuts into the skin and textural details but scenes more naturally lit, such as in the outdoors, fair better with more granular inside a digital presentation in its original aspect ratio of 1.78:1.  There are two English audio mixes available for selection and audiophile setup in a DTS-HD 5.1 Master Audio and a Dolby Digital 2.0 Stereo.  The surround sound selection has a semi-fluid dynamic that works in a contained closed to medium shot arrangement and doesn’t expand to anything beyond to warrant an immersive experience aside from a healthier fidelity of the dialogue, proximity milieu, and the gruesome creature sound effects.  Dialogue can get out of the reigned in alignment that breaks in with sparse unfiltered hissing but otherwise renders cleanly and clearly through the 81-minute runtime.  English subtitles are available.  Special features encoded are an audio commentary with director J.R Bookwalter, a Harris Theater Q&A in Pittsburgh at the Roadshow Opening Night with film guests Bookwalter, writer-star James L. Edwards, and actor Floyd Ewing Jr., a theatrical roadshow cut trailer, a teaser trailer, and the theatrical trailer. Art from the Alex Sarabia and Karl Munster collaboration gives a pulpy artistic rendition of Glenn Rollins oozing deterioration inside a clear Amaray Blu-ray with no supporting supplements other than a cropped version of the art on the disc. The not-rated, region free disc is a perfect cure for what ails you – bad indie comedy-horror done right!

Last Rites: A global pandemic killed millions of people, the silver-lining is now we can look back at that time of isolation and fear and honor those deaths with a coronavirus and rushed-cure blend act worthy of being to the likes of “Bad Taste.”

“Side Effects May Vary” From This Blu-ray Drug!

Let EVIL Give You a Hand! “The Beast Hand” reviewed! (Cleopatra Entertainment / Blu-ray)

Posted by Steven Lewis on

“The Beast Hand” Grabs A Blu-ray Release! Buy it Here!

A derelict criminal Osamu Kogure finds himself back in the company of his jumped parole crime boss Akira Inui, Kogure is back to being a manipulated puppet at the whims of a conceited and aggressive Inui.  When Inui persuades Kogure to give up the whereabouts of an old, reluctant fling Koyuki Igarashi, who went through full body surgery to wipe away her past with Inui, Kogure and Igarashi are trapped by Inui’s bull-headed intimidation, forcing them into a rushed heist that ends with Korgure’s hand being severed.  A syndicate surgeon grafts a deformed, experimental monstrous limb on his wound that turns Kogure into a superhuman beast when provoked.  Now gone rogue out of the surgeon’s reach, Kogure and Igarashi are hunted down across the region by a powerful crime boss’s clan to extract the success of Kogure’s new, powerful extremity but the once timid and submissive delinquent will no longer go down without a fight. 

Taichiro Natsume, the director behind the Big Summer Psychic Team shark series, such as “Ring Shark,” “Love Shark,” and “Last Shark,” moves away from the supernaturally swimming maneater terrorizing the sands and lands surrounding the creature’s resident watering well and popping up out of the bathwater of those clutched in its curse, forgoes another shark infested entry for a monstrous transplant tentacle in his latest outrageous indie horror, “The Beast Hand,” aka “Koletise käsi,” or original titled “Kemonote.”  The Japanese film is one part science-fictional body-horror thriller and one part yakuza splatter strife and is all part penned from the mixed-up monstrosity and melancholy swirling inside Natsume’s mind with cowritten efforts from Yasunori Kasuga.  Lead actor Takahiro Fukuya wears multiple production for producing the production under his studio company Eigabatake that foots the partial budget combined with the crowdfunding remaining purse pieces to bring this splatter dream to reality. 

Takahiro Fukuya invests himself full throttle into the role of Osamu Kogure leading to his real life and role to nearly be parallel to each other as Fukuya quits his day job, spends most of his money, and, likely, leads a temporary pauper lifestyle, much like his character, in order to get his vision off the ground and into production.  Fukuya embodies the weak-minded aspects of a fragile delinquent, submissive to a much more apex predator in the recently prison released, escaped parolee Akira Inui (Yôta Kawase, “Slave Ship,” “Maniac Driver”) in a take-all, give-nothing leader position in what Inui considers is his gang, completed by Misa Wada’s objectified into sexual slavery of Koyuki Igarashi.  The pink eiga actress, of such hits as “Corpse Prison” and “Black Tears,”  has lingering anxiety and timorous defensiveness for her character’s subject of sexual and verbal abuse by Inui only for it to transfigure it into a slap-across-the-face affection for the even more cowardly Kogure in an unforgettable sex scene prior to the monstrous hand augmentation.  The second half of the story rather abruptly butts into Korgure and Igarashi’s departure of the city and into more humble means of making a go of their relationship, especially now Igarashi is months pregnant after their slappy-rollick on top of the sleeping bag sack.  Character exposition of the couple’s circumstances at this point is nonexistent as Natsume uses images and exterior shaping scenes to fabricate their current, still poor, state trying to make it work until the surgeon and the gang leader come to collect their handy work.

“The Beast Hand” embarks into different subcategories of splatter subgenre filmmaking.  Natsume certainly pays homage to the Japanese gore-and-splatter films in his own miniscule way but keeps the blood down to the minimal level allowed for labelling as such, but the filmmaker invests into the hardships of the accounted characters without unleashing too many background details or story dynamic particulars to that doesn’t allow audiences to become too involved leaving characters banally wrapped in their strife from point A-to-Z.  Instead, Natsume concenters around two sides of the story;  the first being the elegancy of Kogure and Igarashi’s unlikely and oddly misshapen relationship with scenes of beach walking, comforting, cheap meals in a humble home, and of course, the slap-happy sex scene of two belittled and downtrodden people tying one off in expressive fit of passion while the second part is more tension-riddled hearty with a yakuza hunt for Kogure’s one-of-a-kind beast hand.  Both sides balance awkwardly along a sporadically dotted line of limited detail and time passed but ultimately collide at a culminating point of a beast hand slaughterhouse when Igarashi’s safety boils up the beast from within Kogure, tracking “The Beast Hand” as a horror with to some extent a rivulet of romantism often clunky and riddled with holes. 

Cleopatra Entertainment distributes in association with Reel Suspects the Blu-ray release of Taichiro Natsume’s “The Beast Hand.”  The AVC encoded, 1080p high-definition resolution, BD25 decodes an anemic picture presented in widescreen 1.78:1 aspect ratio.  Visually, “The Beast Hand” has nothing going for it other than a clean experience with no aliasing, minor banding, and other immaterial compression issues.  The lack of color pop and the feather washed grading dampen with a lifeless aesthetic toward a Japanese splatter subgenre that’s literally soaked in a manga style or pop art.  Dialogue renders over cleanly and with clarity in a Japanese Dolby Digital 2.0 stereo that syncs timely with the forced, grammatically errorless English subtitles.  Immersive qualities are limited to the two front channels that are vigorous only during the intermittent action full of Lou Ferringo Hulk snarls and growls when Kogure goes full milky-eyed beast mode and good squishy Foley as stomachs and heads are eviscerated and sliced down.  Bonus features are typical run of the mill for Cleopatra Entertainment with a cache of trailers for the company’s recent releases.  There’s also marketing promo clips for “The Beast Hand” but in Japanese without English subtitles.  The standard Blu-ray Amaray encases a decent, and uncredited, original photoshop illustration that is, however, partly inaccurate, and awkwardly arranged with a beast hand resembling nothing like the body horror hand transplant in the movie.  The cover feels like right off the commercial printer, raw homemade art.  Inside is the same art pressed to the disc with no other accompaniments.  The region free, not rated Blu-ray has a runtime of 77 minutes. 

Last Rites: As far as J-horror goes, “The Beast Hand” has average appeal inside a strung along story and not enough absurd Japanese off-the-wall concepts and violence to stand out amongst the crowded subgenre.

“The Beast Hand” Grabs A Blu-ray Release! Buy it Here!

Scarf Michael and the Fiddler’s Power that Draws Upon EVIL! “The Outcasts” reviewed! (Deaf Crocodile / Blu-ray)

Posted by Steven Lewis on

“The Outcasts” on Blu-ray Now Available Here!

Ireland 1810 – a small farming village sustains a livelihood off their crops, marital successors, and superstitious belief.  Widower Hugh O’Donnell and his three teenage-adult daughters find themselves in the midst of all three mechanisms with his eldest daughter forced to live with him into widowed spinsterhood, a middle daughter’s secretive betrothal to a neighboring farmer boy despite Hugh’s disdain for the family, and Maura, the youngest daughter, who acts strange and fearful making her an easy target for ridicule.  When the village crop faces blight, bad luck ensues many of the surrounding farmers, and a sudden, expected snow fall threatens harvests and income, Maura is accused of conspiring with witchcraft of a wraith fiddler known as Scarf Michael whose music invokes visions and creates mischief.  Nearly crucified by the fearful villagers, most of whom derided for her aberrating strangeness, Maura is saved by Scarf Michael to be taught his outlier ways that could lead the young woman to never return home again.

Through themes of folkloric belief, societal class structures, family, marriages, mental illness and how it’s ostracized in an early 1800s setting, “The Outcasts” is a cold, hard, and solemn look at daily affairs of a 19th century, poor Irish seaside village, fenced in with the unusual conducts of Maura whose mind is more curious and vastly hungry for knowledge than her peers’ and that creates an escapism component to try and be equal, or perhaps get even with, those that look down upon her.   English writer-director Robert Wynne-Simmons tackles his debut feature-length film with great understanding of tradition and human fear, elemental human nature bred from the uneducated and localized myth seen in his original devilish script from 1971’s “The Blood on Satan’s Claw” by director Piers Haggard.  “The Blood on Satan’s Claw” was certainly far better suited for success with Haggard’s additional scenes of brackish deviltry aesthetics, plenty of full-frontal nudity, and visible vibrant and rich blood.  “The Outcast” is a return to the slow born of an eventual decline and degradation of not just Maura but her family and her village.   “The Outcast” is part of an Irish production conglomerate of companies, including Arts Council of Ireland, The Irish Film Board, and the Toymyax Company with Tony Dollard producing.

Mary Ryan is the centerpiece of the fantastical and fraught tale because of her teenage character’s childlike innocence that’s deemed unusual, weird, and, eventually, in bed with a spiteful spirit, labelling her character, Maura, as a cursing occultist.  Ryan, who would go on to have minor roles in “Rawhead Rex” and “The Courier,” brings a balance of beauty and blamelessness to Maura’s undesired disposition, one that allows her no friends and is even on the edge of displeasure from her older sister Breda (Brenda Scallon) and father Hugh (Don Foley) whom both found love and lost them over a rough course of untimely death.  There’s still obvious love between them, but Maura likely reminds them of mother, especially from Hugh, and sees a same early grave fate for the youngest and adrift daughter.  Middle Daughter Janey resides on the opposite side of the spectrum with unconditional love and support for Maura only to be intertwined with her own serendipitous affairs with local farm boy Eanon (Máirtín Jaimsie), finding themselves rushed into proper marriage when Janey comes home expecting.  And while Maura made faultless inconsequential ripples through the family and the village, she was initially not on the forefront of everybody’s concern as Janey and Eanon became a jovial celebration that sought the joining of two well-known families and farms until Scarf Michael reappeared to play his fiddle.  Mick Lally fiddles as the musical wraith casting his violin strokes against those essentially bullying Maura with trickery that led to subsequent fears and accusations of agricultural assassination and magical maligned mischief that turn the rural villagers away from Janey and Eanon’s blessed marriage to an acute decline of rationality that put Maura in the crosshairs of suspected supernatural conjuring.  Scarf Michael’s intentions are not to whisk Maura away into what she sees and believes is as blissful freedom from those nasty looks and mocking that surround her as well as Michael’s tenderness to which she falls in love for the first time, like a child growing into adulthood.  “The Outcasts” round out with Tom Jordan, Cyril Cusack, Gillian Hackett, Brendan Ellis, Hilary Reynolds, Donal O’Kelly, James Shanahan, and Paul Bennett.

Not ever story about the loss of innocence from growing up is portrayed in a good light.  Maura wants to hurry grow up and be free of her childish qualities without realizing the consequences.  Falling in love with Scarf Michael proves to be perhaps folly of Maura who gives into the dream, or fantasy, of a man who quickly enters her life and charms her with the mystical fiddle.  By the end, indications of Scarf Michael nothing more than a rake leaves a sour and sad aftertaste that shutters Maura from the rest of her family as she willing joins him on the other side, practically begging him to free her from an unforgiving reality.  Perhaps Maura was also led to believe in no other choice, condemned to a watery grave, the same fate that befell Scarf Michael, by her fearful village peers and elders.  Robert Wynne-Simmons is often playing devil’s advocate by building up Scarf Michael as a savior and a romantic, but Maura drinks the Celtic Kool-Aid because, frankly, she knows no better and received no beneficial direction from those who surround her, leaving the alluring fiddler to warn her of the choices she desires.  Wynne-Simmons and Seamus Corcoran’s soft-and-dreamy fairytale indulges a bit of surrealism through soft-lighting, soft focus, and crude yet effective editing tricks to create a specter’s intermittent visibility amongst other slight of sight practical effects. 

If ever a time to be totally physical media inclusive toward all the obscure outliers, now is the time with “The Outcasts” arriving onto a newly restored 2K transfer for the first ever Blu-ray in the U.S. courtesy of Deaf Crocodile.  Presented in an European widescreen 1.66:1 aspect ratio, the AVC encoded, 1080p high definition, BD50, plus the restoration efforts conducted by the Irish Film Institute – Film Archive, retains that airy softness of a daydream inlaid to suggest a surrealism surrogation but the story is rooted in reality, the reality of early 1800s Ireland to be exact, and so this impoverish, austere, and salt of the Earth land and it’s people are often absorbed by superstition belief that’s awfully real for them but to the audiences, it’s bordering the illogical.  Details are generally soft but the upgrade increases the contours and create a nice layer of depth between foreground and background, bathed in the muted and ascetic green, brown, and tan color scheme of a traditional period piece wardrobe and materials, leaving behind any ounce of hue pop to not spoil the intended grading that lives and dies by somewhere between the RGB and the average grayscale, but there are times of an eerie dressed lighting of added backlit blues and bright whites to secure a fantasy, or spooky, flare.  The fidelity reproduction on the Irish-English DTS-HD mono track diffuses distinct aspects through the single channel without any vague overtaking.  The brogue English did, at least for me, require the optional English subtitles to be turned on for my untrained ear to decipher certain antiquated period terminology and the strong Irish accents that would drown out an entire sentence; this is not an issue concerning the quality of the audio track as it’s nicely achieved without any damage to note or crackling, hissing, or other obstructions to interfere.  The dialogue is also fairly robust and prominent.  Steve Conney’s lyrical and guitar score enchants with traditional Irish folk and is ascertains the mix of commonplace and otherworldly mood Wynne-Simmons seeks to create.  Bonus content includes a new video interview with writer-director Robert Wynne-Simmons, a new video interview with composer Steve Conney, producer and film professor Rod Stoneman, former head of The Irish Film Board, and physical media expert Ryan Verrill provide a video essay, and concludes with five Robert Wynne-Simmons’ short films:  “L’Eredita di Diavolo,” “The Greatest All-Star Advertial of All Time,” “Bomb Disposal,” “The Scrolls,” and “The Judgement of Albion – Prophesies of William Blake”  These shorts include appearances/cameos by Charlton Heston, Sammy Davis Jr. and Peter O’Toole to name a few.  The clear Blu-ray Amaray has an appearance that’s about a stark as the film’s aesthetic with a gray coverart composition of celebration fiddlers in their straw masks overtop an isolated Maura.  An insert advert with a QR code offers to access transcribed bonus content.  The disc is pressed with the same front cover image and the reverse side of the primary cover has a still from the film.  The unrated release has a runtime of 105 minutes and is hard-locked with region A encoding.

Last Rites: An obscure gem of Irish cinema, a folklore and social explication of “The Outcasts” outlives antiquation with a new Blu-ray release from obscure aficionados Deaf Crocodile!

“The Outcasts” on Blu-ray Now Available Here!