A Corrupted Nation, Operated by EVIL Drug Lords, Are No Match for “McBain” reviewed! (Synapse Films / Blu-ray)

“McBain” Explodes onto Blu-ray from Synapse!

Vietnam War has officially ended, and U.S. troops evacuate the worn torn country almost immediately until Robert Santos and his squadron happen upon a Vietcong-controlled POW camp still operating under the merciless thumb of North Vietnamese soldiers either unaware of the news that war is over or are blatantly disregarding defeat to deface the enemy. During the trouncing of opposition in a fury of firearms and explosions, Santos saves POW Robert McBain seconds before being stabbed in the back by the enemy. McBain pledges a debt to Santos for saving his life. Eighteen years later, the now Colombian revolutionary Santos, in fighting for his countrymen’s freedom and end of suffering, is killed by an iniquitous President controlled by a narcotic cartel. Santos’s wife travels to America to find McBain where the former soldier regroups Santos’s old platoon to avenge their brother in arms as well as to free the struggling people of Colombia from dictatorship and tyranny.

Director James Glickenhaus, known for his handful of thrifty, R-rated, action thrillers with some of the biggest names of the 1980s, including Jackie Chan, Sam Elliott, and Peter Weller, had previously not helmed a picture with a budget more than $5-10 million. That is until he met “McBain,” a fictional, titular character Glickenhaus created and wrote the screenplay for in his first feature at the turn of the decade. The 1991 film tripled in budget compared to the filmmaker’s previous films, aimed high for a larger scale that took the retribution guts of the story to multiple locations from around the New York metropolitan area to the surrounding waters of the Philippine islands that doubled for politically despotic Colombia in South America and multiple, sizeable explosions around every scene corner. “McBain” also hired an esteemed actor to bear the weight of the title that would contest the very robust budget against “The King of New York’s” star power, paid for by Glickenhaus’s own production banner, Shapiro-Glickenhaus Productions with executive producers Leonard Shaprio (“Black Roses”) and Alan M. Solomon (“Moontrap”) and producer J. Boyce Harman Jr.

“The King of New York,” if you haven’t clued in on the hint by now, is Christopher Walken playing a former Vietnam veteran turned NYC steel worker fulfilling his promise to repay a life debt to fellow former soldier Roberto Santos (Chick Vennera, “Last Rites”). Walken, in at least my eyes, has always been a one note kind of character and as McBain, that note remains true here as well.  Don’t get me wrong about Walken’s feature-after-feature character continuity as the acclaimed actor has his cool-cat idiosyncratic inflections and pompadour hairdo.  There’s also a relaxed swagger about the now 80-year-old actor that remains recognizable from his earlier work to all the way to today.  Usually, we do not see Walken paired up with a love interest and “McBain” is no different in a side-by-side with “Running Man” and “Predator 2” actress Maria Conchita Alonso as Christina, sister of Robert Santos.  The two are more servants of doing what’s right, connected by singular retribution, to provide justice for a mass of people drowning in injustice because of a small group of corrupt and dangerous empowerment.  McBain and Christina rarely share the screen together in a strategic mix of accomplishing their own parts of the mission:  McBain rallies sympathetic mercenaries to obtain money and gear while Christina rallies her people to rise up and raze the crooked administration.  Walken makes the ordeal look like a stroll in the park with lofty assurance to take down an entire country’s military power juxtaposed against Alonso soulful, teary-eyed pursuance in the eyes of Christina that’s more compassionate and real, especially with Alonso’s investment as a Cuban born actress who may know a thing or two about dictatorships.  McBain mercenaries are not a ragtag bunch but the former military unit that saved him from POW Hell along with Santos, but they are more of a ragtag, mixed lot cast of actors amassed to be characters ready to leave their professions and livelihoods for a South American throwdown.  Michael Ironside (“Scanners,” “Starship Troopers”), Steve James (“The Warriors”), Thomas Waites (“The Thing”), and Jay Patterson (“Hard Rain”) see to it that those mercenary warriors are committed beyond a shadow of a doubt and, no, Michael Ironside does not lose a limb in this film.  A rather bland McBain is backed by a rather highly skill set of commandos, such as post-Vietnam billionaires with long-reaching tech and a war pilot who is also now a surgeon, and this creates some depth complexity between a former POW turned steel worker McBain and those who saved him and came out better in life than the titular character.  “McBain’s” explosive action rounds out with roles from Forrest Compton, Hector Ubarry (“Crocodile Dundee II”), Nigel Redding, Victor Argo (“True Romance”), Michael Joseph Desare, and Luis Guzman (“Innocent Blood”). 

Explosive would be one of the words I would use to describe “McBain” to someone who hasn’t seen the film.  Another word I would use would be rudimental.  “McBain” struggles to provide opposition for our band of solicitous to the cause heroes who steamroll over the entire Colombia army and air force with little-to-no resistance or demise unless it was their own decision.  What basically unfolds is a much more expensive version of the A-Team with high powered gear and a will to flatten just about anything that lays in their path, making “McBain” shallow like an extended television episode rather than a saga of epic explosive proportions.  The one good aspect about Glickenhaus’s production is the pyrotechnics are ridiculously off the charts with a nonstop stop bombardment of military armament, combat vehicles, and personal convoys strapped with a weaponry assortment of M50’s, incendiaries, and stingers to light up every scene with miniature mushroom clouds glow with the heat of orange, yellow, and black.  “McBain” might as well have titled “McSplosion” with all the hellfire that lit up the budget.  Unfortunately, “McBain” doesn’t yield any other megaton fringe benefits from the acting to the story that seemed to have been caught in hoopla of the collateral damaging combustion, like an Andy Sidaris actioner but without the equalizing T&A to extinguish the bad by igniting another kind of pants fire.

Synapse Films delivers another high-quality product with the new 2K transfer of “McBain” on an AVC encoded, 1080p, Blu-ray.  Presented from its OAR of 1.85:1 to a high-definition 1.78:1 widescreen aspect ratio, Synapse’s Blu-ray release clearly has a pristine transfer to work from, likely the reason why there’s no mention of restoration printed on the back cover.  No significant signs of damage, age wear, or unnecessary augments on the 35mm print.  No notifiable compression issues on the information decoding that averages around the high 30s on a sizeable BD50.  A varied color palette has a renewed, clean, and stable appeal, pleasing to absorb and delineate objects within the primaries as well as patterns and sundry hues that separate into a range of objects and locations.  Specified new is the English DTS-HD MA 5.1 surround soundtrack created this release.  Accompanying also is the original theatrical LPCM 2.0 stereo mix.  The DTS-HD mix has superior strength to maximize the explosions across the cross-media channels. There’s also an unobstructed dialogue track that prominent but maintains the varying degree of depth during bullet buzzing skirmishes and the flaming tailed rockets.  Transmissions and comms hold the range to the appropriate subdued amount and, even more so, when the enemies engage each other in aerial combat. Exclusive to the release are newly translated, optional English subtitles. Bonus content underperforms on this particular Synapse title with only an audio commentary with director James Glickenhaus and film historian Chris Poggioli as well as the original theatrical trailer. Physical content comes home in a green, standard-sized Blu-ray snapper case with one of the more illustratively warm “McBain” poster arts on the single-sided cover art. Inside, a multi-page advert catalogue is included for your browsing pleasure and the disc art is rendered with the front cover art. “McBain” is rated-R, has a 104-minute runtime, and the release has a region free playback. “McBain” promises a retreat back into action for those missing action after the war is long over, but though there is a lot of bang, there isn’t a lot of buck with a seldomly challenging fight that practically makes McBain an invincibly dull crusader.

“McBain” Explodes onto Blu-ray from Synapse!

The Slammer is Full of Correctional Officer EVIL in “Lust for Freedom” reviewed!

The Jailed Chicks “Lust for Freedom” on Blu-ray!

Broken by the violent death of her partner, who she was also engaged to marry, after a drug bust goes south, undercover officer Gillian Kaites abandons law enforcement and drives across country in an internal turmoiled mess.  She’s pulled over by a Georgia County cop after she aids a frantic woman fleeing to escape two men in a black van.  Framed for narcotics possession by the corrupt officer, Gillian is drugged and locked away in the County’s women’s penitentiary overseen a strong-handed matron and an unscrupulous warden who dabbles in prostitution trafficking, drug smuggling, and even the occasional snuff filmmaking.  Back into a cellblock corner, Gillian must defend herself against the warden’s goons, protect other girls also falsely incarcerated, and lean into the sympathetic ear of the same corrupt cop that framed her after voicing his years of disgust with the warden’s malfeasance.

Part II of our bamboozled behind bars and following the 1986 examination of Eric Karson’s military simulation turned enslavement “Opposing Force,” is our next feature helmed by another director named Eric, notably Eric Louzil, with “Lust for Freedom.”  The debut film of Louzil, who went on to helm “Class of Nuke ‘Em High Part II and Part II” for Lloyd Kauman and Michael Herz of Troma Entertainment as well as slaving over standalone horror and sleazy schlockers in “Bikini Beach Race” and “Night of the Beast,” was also the first feature penned by the American-born, UCLA grad with a penchant for low-budget lewidies, cowritten alongside the “Shadows Run Black” writing duo, Craig Kusaba and Duke Howard.  With the working title of “Georgia County Lockup,” which in actuality the film was shot in various California and Nevada locations, such as Ely, Nevada, “Lust for Freedom” is an 8 x 8 cell of nudity, violence, and corruption under the co-production companies of Mesa Films and Troma Entertainment, with the latter reediting the original script and adding ADR adlibs to apply a sexed up and Troma-fied integration of product into their independent collection.  Louzil and Laurel A. Koernig produce the film with Troma bigwigs Lloyd Kaufman and Michael Herz as executive producers.

“Lust for Freedom” has many eccentric characters with many assorted plotlines in what is essentially an all women battle royal brawl in the cat-scratchin calaboose.  Stirring up trouble like a piece of scrap metal lodged in the gears of a well-oiled machine is tall and beautiful former cop, Gillian Kaites.  Played by Melanie Coll in her only known role, Kaites is only the bear in the bees’ nest, forced into confinement under false pretenses and to be subjugated by the likes of a wayward officialdom with lust in their eyes, greed in their pockets, and a disdain for disobedience.  Coll’s a bit flat footed with her performance and her Karate Kokutsu Dachi stance could use some improvement, but the tall, muscular, curly haired and light blonde actress can wield a multi-round popping automatic rifle with authority.  Stark against her Amazonian physique, not in a hard pressed and sexualized way, is main antagonist is the unbecoming Southern gentleman Warden Maxwell under the balding and overweight guise Howard Knight, but Kaites is more in tune against the procrustean penitentiary matron Ms. Pusker and Judi Trevor gives a Hell in a cell pastiche of early fascist women of Roger Corman produced WIP films, enforcing her will with prison muscle in the miscreant tough Vicky (Elizabeth Carlisle, “Evil Acts”) and the oversized guerilla (professional wrestler Dee “Matilda the Hun” Booher, “Spaceballs,” “DeathStalker II”).  Ultimately, Kaites sees her only path to escape through the very same person that wrongly confines her in the first place.  William J. Kulzer (“Class of Nuke ‘Em High Part II:  Subhumanoid Meltdown”) doesn’t quite fit the corrupted bill of Sheriff Coale, a mild manner and seemingly reasonable officer who goes with the despicable flow of sex trafficking amongst other indelicacies.  Yet, maybe that’s the purpose in Kulzer’s character, to be conflicted by the choices he and his callous cohort has made that made him stick out as the least repulsive individual behind the concreate and metal barred big house.  “Lust for Freedom” rounds out the cast with Donna Lederer, John Tallman, George Engelson, Rob Rosen, Shea Porter, Rich Crews, Raymond Oceans, Elizabeth Carroll, Lor Stickel, and Joan Tixei.

Gratuitous, full-frontal lesbian sex.  Yes, “Lust for Freedom” appeals to the very definition of its own title, like many other WIP productions and though a core element to the integrity of the subgenre, the creamy smoothness of two curvaceous, naked bodies getting it on shouldn’t always be the main selling point.  Luckily, Louzil ponies up more salacious material for his pinks in the clink caper.  An elaborate spiderweb of activity balloons and pulsates outward from the moment Kaites crosses path with an evening-dressed escapee being chased by a scary looking Native American and his sociopathic hooligan partner in a black van.  “Lust for Freedom” may be hammy and cheesy but what it’s definitely not is dull in its multifaceted approach to expose character layers.  Some characters grade more toward deviancy, such as Warden Maxwell and Ms. Pusker, while others are lifted toward a more redemptive means, such as with Sheriff Coale; that shepherd “Lust for Freedom” into a culminating jailbreak.  The narrative doesn’t necessarily focus around Kaites but she’s on a redemption arc to dig her out of a despair pit and into a fight worth fighting for purpose after the death of her finance, set up in the opening act.  As she evades the Vickey’s directed infringement to rough up the new girl, Kaites takes under her wing a fright clink chick named, another wrongly accused prisoner after being taken wandering the road, a theme that is a reoccurring motif from Kaites to Donna in thinking the young women can manage the world and their problems on their own accord but at a cost. However, whatever semblance is left of Louzil’s original script has likely been lost once Troma revamped it into the finished product you see today. Riddled with choppy cuts and incoherent segues, we have to wonder about Kaites’ role that may have been transmuted into a lesser core commodity in the final product.

Troma Entertainment releases a high-def, Blu-ray release of “Lust for Freedom.” The AVC encoded, 1080p resolution, widescreen release, in a 1.78:1 aspect ratio, compressed from its original aspect ratio of 1.85:1. Lloyd Kaufman mentions Louzil had shot the film on 16 mm and Troma subsequently blew up the negative to a 35 mm print that reframes the transfer for projection. Image-wise, the picture appears relatively clean albeit a plush grain and a few visible 16 mm cigarette burns with little-to-no age wear or exposure issue and the BD25 storage format has capacity aplenty to render an adequately compressed image with hardly any loss to the quality. Since the quality is heavily granulated, definitely no DNR implemented, the compression doesn’t suffer from a lack of a sharper, restored image. The audio is an English language Dolby Digital 2.0 Stereo can be echoey at times, as if the boom is catching warehouse reflection, but dialogue does topple in an appropriately laid out track mix that’s intertwined with hair metal band Grim Reaper’s titular “Lust for Freedom” single. We don’t get a ton of depth in the close quarters of the prison set but neither do we receive any depth in the exteriors either, sustaining most of the volume in a forefront stasis. Troma adds spotty ADR to kitschy up to Troma’s ludicrous level and its quite evident like a sore thumb that doesn’t quite match the ingrained audio mix. There are no subtitles available. Extras include the original DVD intro by Lloyd Kaufman, which also plays automatically at the startup of the feature, a directory’s commentary by Eric Louzil that is asynchronous with the feature in what is an approx. one-minute delay behind the Louzil’s retrospect, the original theatrical trailer, an interview with Lloyd Kaufman, a brief, brief clip of Eli Roth’s encouragement to just go and do a movie to the best of your ability, a Troma-themed showcase of one of their more modern Tromettes – Mercedes the Muse, the Radiation March, Gizzard Face 2: The Return of Gizzard Face, which has been on a slew of Troma’s releases over the past year, and coming attractions from the independent company. The Blu-ray comes in a tradition snapper with a guard tower, barbed wired, and Gillian Kaites with a semi-auto in her grip and barely cladded and torn clothes. No insert inside the case and the disc pressed art is the same as the cover illustration. This Troma release comes unrated, is region free, and has a runtime of 94 minutes. Plenty of desire for “Lust for Freedom,” busty babes behind bars barely bores and this vintage Troma keeps the WIP lacquer wet with self-satisfactory sadism and sexual spiciness.

The Jailed Chicks “Lust for Freedom” on Blu-ray!

Don’t Mess with Texas Unless You’re EVIL Going Up Against “Shanghai Joe” reviewed! (Cauldron Films / Blu-ray)

East Doesn’t Just Meet the West, It Kicks It’s Ass in “Shanghai Joe!”

A Chinese immigrant arrives into San Francisco looking to begin a life as an American cowboy.  Met with extreme prejudice, he pushes forward to avoid the Western stereotypes of his race by taking a stagecoach to anywhere Texas in order to become a true-to-form Cowboy.  Mocking monikered Shanghai Joe, even in Texas Joe is met with bigoted resistance in every way and in every exchange with the locals despite his uncanny fighting, intellect, and horse-riding skills that are far superior to his meanspirited rivals who think of him nothing more than a dumb foreigner.  When Joe become inadvertently involved with human traffickers and slave owners of downtrodden Mexicans, Joe aims to set things right against an oppressive and murderous rancher named Spencer who runs the entire region.  Spencer knows his usual hired posse can’t match the supernatural abilities of Joe and hires out the $5,000 bounty to the four most cunning and ruthless killers that will seek Joe’s head as well as possibly commit other atrocities to him for the sole joy of it.

The sun rises on the dawn of the East Meeting the West with “Shanghai Joe” at the center   of subgenre.  The Italian made spaghetti western helmed by “Nightmare Castle” and “Nazi Love Camp 27” director Mario Caiano who exhibits what happens when an unstoppable force hits an immovable object as quick hands and feet of the Asian East combat with the quick gunslinging showdowns of the American West.  Penned by Caiano alongside Carlo Albert Alfieri (“Sodoma’s Ghost”) and Fabrizio Trifone Trecca, credited as T.F. Karter, “Il mio nome è Shangai Joe” or “The Fighting Fists of Shanghai Joe,” as the film is originally entitled in Italian, keeps true to the graphic and vehement violence that ultimately lacked from the U.S. Western and sought to bring a martial arts foreigner into the fold of brute and barbarity as Kung-Fu flicks were up-and-coming with the rise of Bruce Lee and the Italian wanted a piece of that cinematic success without having to spend a fortune of turning sets appear oriental when already built saloons, corals, and spittoons were a plentifully available from previous films.  Producers Renato Angiolini and Robert Bessi serve under the production companies Compagnia Cinematografica Champion (“Torso”) and C.B.A. Produttori e Distributori Associati (“Emergency Squad”).

Leave it to the Italians to make a Western set in Texas and to have protagonist Chinese hero be played by a Japanese actor.  Performing under the stage name of Chen Lee, the Aichi, Japan born actor’s real name is Myoshin Hayakawa and he plays the role of Chin Hao, a nomadic Chinese immigrant, taught the rare fighting ways of an ancient martial arts, travels to America in hopes to reside in the American dream.  Lee’s certainly a presence on screen in his quiet and reserve composure but equally as self-assured and as competent to take on the worst-of-the-worst in the exploitative West where law has yet to reach it’s firm grasping hand.  Lee lands fight sequences with fierce finesse, though perhaps not on a Bruce Lee level, but does it so with his own distinct style of chopsocky flair with laws of physics breaking gliding through the air and tremendous accuracy in all areas of throwing weapons, even hyperbolizing his Yo-yo as a coconut splitting, head-cracking weapon.  When not wiggling his way out of impossible no-win situations with smarts and strength and when it comes to the interests of romantics, Chin comes to find solace being twisted into a paired fate with Mexican national Christina, played by Italian actress Carla Romanelli (“Lesbo”), after saving her father from being executed. As if destined to fall in love at first sight, the two outlanders are in each other’s embrace but before anything could be commutated by any sense of the term, head honcho rancher Mr. Spencer (Pierro Lulli, “Django Kill… If You Live, Shoot!”) hires out assassins to relieve him of a troublesome Shanghai Joe. The killers are just as colorful and individualizes as the titular character with quirky personalities and traits that make them indubitably daunting by their mere nicknames: Pedro, the Cannibal (Robert Hundar, “Cut-Throat Nine”), Burying Sam (Gordon Mitchell, “Evil Spawn”), Tricky the Gambler (Giacomo Rossi Stuart, “The Night Evelyn Came Out of Her Grave”), and Scalper Jack (Klaus Kinski, “Nosferatu the Vampyre). The eclectic bunch of Western-horror tropes level out Shanghai Joe’s uncanny abilities with their own big penchants for demise but the actors behind the characters also have bigger personalities, especially Kinski who is only in the film for a few scenes but is second billed in both before and after credits. “Shanghai Joe” fills out the cast with Dante Maggio, Andrea Aureli, George Wang, and another Japanese actor and martial arts master, Katsutoshi Mikuriya, as the showdown villain trained in the same ancient combat arts as Chin but turned his back against the teachings’ moral principles for his own greed.

Plot pointed by a series of bad case scenarios to showcase Shanghai Joe’s superior skillset as not only a fighter, but also an intelligent, almost con-like, mentalist as well as being good at just about everything else, the film is laced with repetitive derogatoriness from all races except white.  “Shanghai Joe’s” indelicacies, coupled with graphic, moderately bloodied violence, adds to the laundry list of idiosyncrasies of this unique old West spectacle.  The Caiano and team’s scripted narrative exacts the epitome of the label the Wild West where the unexplored, uncultured, and uncivilized country gives way to lawlessness and opportunity, especially the latter at the expense of others.  Joe becomes a beacon of moral hope, a foreigner who seeks, by way of a semi forced hand, to correct the system from within using his rare training only as a position of defensiveness or to right a terrible injustice.  Caiano has the eye to make a legitimate Italian spaghetti western that hits all the hallmarks and the director can also fashion a two-prong narrative with a unified purpose that builds up the hero first with a series of outlaw confrontations before immersing him into a rigorous roughhouse recruited by the rotten rancher.  While each face-off spars differently, Caiano letting the actors build upon and have fun in their villainy, the ultimately take the place of the tip of the spear antagonist, rancher Stanley Spencer, who doesn’t get what’s owed him by the roll of the end credits.  The high-flying combat wires, that you can plainly see during the air time fight sequences, and the personal and frame stylistic choices of the actors and Caiano tend to distract viewers from the unfinished business, concluding on a satisfactory note that what we just experienced was felicitously violent, engrossingly entertainable with appealing characters, and just waggish enough to provide levity amongst the harsh racism and the aforesaid brutality. 

“Shanghai Joe” is a must-have, must-see Italian Western for the subgenre aficionado and, luckily, Cauldron Films delivers the 1973 film onto Blu-ray for the first time ever in North America. The AVC encoded BD50 is presented in high definition, 1080p, with a widescreen aspect ratio of 2.35:1 of a 2K restoration scan from the original 35mm negative. Cauldron Films’ restoration is a labor of love for an atypical western of the obscure nature with a generous tactile intensification to bring the warm dust of the tumbleweed West down upon the anomalist Asian in a blue Tang suit and pants with a conical hat. A few and very faint scratches are the only issues observed that come and go as quickly as they came, but the there’s a nice richness to the coloring, a natural grain, and zero compression issues or unnecessary enhancements detected. The DTS-HD Master Audio 2.0 mono comes in two options – An English dub and an Italian dub. Preferably, I went with the English dub over the Italian despite “Shanghai Joe” being an Italian production. For one, Myoshin Hayakawa spoke English which you can tell by reading his lips so the English track paired better. Secondly, the Italian track is quite orotund to the point of losing some minor ambient detail as well as not feeling to be a part of the whole package team. Slight hissing at times during dialogued scenes but the clarity comes through with the decent dub pronunciations and the chopsocky ài yas are often repeated in the same audio tone and level in every evasive or attack flight by Joe but is not ostentatiously annoying. “Marquis de Sade Justine’s” Bruno Nicolai and his twangy score, channeling his best Ennio Morricone, has great purpose as “Shanghai Joe’s” main theme that rowels up and shapes Joe’s hero role. English and English SDH subtitles are available. The special features include an interview with Master Katsutoshi Mikuriya on how he was approached for the role and the martial artists also discusses the fight sequences in Samurai Spirit, film historian Eric Zaldivar puts together a visual essay with the topic East Meets West: Italian Style, an audio commentary by Mike Hauss from “The Spaghetti Western Digest,” the original trailer, and an image gallery. The physical portions of the release include a translucent Blu-ray snapper with a reversible cover art featuring two stylishly illustrative posters in contrast to the simple disc art of the red “Shanghai Joe” title set upon a black background. The early 70’s feature comes not rated, has a runtime of 98 minutes, and is region A locked. “Shanghai Joe’s” singularity scores high on the limited East meets West subgenre novelty but certainly aces as a versatile Kung-fu period piece with ridiculously good fight scenes, a handful of callously charming characters, and a disparaged hero, who embodies the good in all of us, you can gladly cheer for from beginning to end.

East Doesn’t Just Meet the West, It Kicks It’s Ass in “Shanghai Joe!”

Romance and Chinese Boxing Don’t Equal EVIL and That’s Okay! “Gorgeous” reviewed! (88 Films / Blu-ray)

Fall in Love with “Gorgeous” on Blu-ray at Amazon.com!

Bu believes in true love.  The young Taiwanese girl, with immense positivity, travels from her small fishing village of Jibei to the big city of Hong Kong after discovering a bottle containing a romantic note floating in the sea.  When Bu is let down by the originating sender, a gay makeup artist in an attempt to use fate and fortune to bring back an ex-lover, she strikes up a friendship with him which leads to a wealthy business owner and Chinese boxing enthusiast C.N. Chan who serendipitously comes into her life.  With a well-known reputation of being a rake, Bu pretends to be a prominent ex-lover of a notorious crime boss in order to not be taken advantage of as she slowly falls for Chan’s playful charm.  A longtime rival businessman causes conflict by driving a wedge between Bu and Chan as fight training intensifies after losing to his rival’s hired professional fighter and Chan loses sight of what’s really important in life – happiness.  

International martial artists superstar Jackie Chan makes his debut on our little boutique review blog for his Hong Kong cult film, the 1999 romantic comedy with stellar fight sequences, “Gorgeous.”  “Forbidden City Cop” writer-director Vincent Kok teams up with Yiu Fai Lo and the “Rush Hour” star to pen a new kind of story for the stuntman and martial artists that would put a roundhouse kick of insecurities onto any action star’s chin.  Based on the Ivy Ho (“The Accidental Spy”) story, “Gorgeous” involves more than just punches, kicks, and high-flying antics with a comedy romance story about two very different people and perspectives finding commonality in unflinching happiness, joy, and love.  Jackie Chan does comedy very well but the comedy in “Gorgeous” is half non-physical, which the action star has mastered the craft by integrating into his physical model.  “Gorgeous” is a production of Golden Harvest Productions and is produced by Jackie Chan and then Golden Harvest president the late Raymond Chow.

Obviously, you can’t have a Jackie Chan movie without high-level martial arts action.  In the same breath, Jackie Chan wanted to give his Asian fans another movie after the tremendous success of “Rush Hour” that sent the longtime East-adored icon into global stardom.  Thus, “Gorgeous” was born, developed, and rewritten to add Jackie Chan as the lead character, playboy and business tycoon C.N. Chan, alongside costar Shu Qi of “Sex and Zen II” and “The Transporter” with Jason Statham.  As Bu, Qi develops a starry-eyed longing for unequivocal romance that you can only find in fairytales and storybooks as she is confronted by the puppy dog eyes of the local fishing boy proclaiming his love for her only to be rejected by Qi’s downplayed naivety that makes her appear to be the village simpleton.   Yet, the character is surrounded by a carefree comedic mom-and-dad of beer-drinking restaurant owners, Sung-Young Chen (“Hello Dracula”) and Elaine Jin (“The House That Never Dies”).  As a flirtatious couple of Bu’s hopeless romanticism driven by the signs and kismet and Chan’s all-business, no-play waning for a girl to be childlike to bring out the dormant happiness inside him, Jackie Chan and Shu Qi manage to never close that gap to fully immerse themselves as onscreen love interests in their 80’s structured amorous narrative and go get’em montage.   Where “Gorgeous” charisma lies is with Chan’s mano-on-mano dual with Jackie Chan’s hired member of his stuntman team, Brad Allan.  The former Australian gymnast and Chinese circus acrobat has a towering magnetism about him despite only standing 5’4” tall, shorter than Jackie Chan.  The fight sequences between the two nimble men with incredible speed and form, mirror each other with precision in their own individual styles, garner some the best one-on-one choreographed bouts ever to hit the screen and to be felt by the audiences with hard-hitting throws.  While the impact of the Chinese boxing is palpable, Chan and Allen pepper in lighter moments of great physical comedy that take the intensity down a notch in a welcoming reprieve from solemn combat.  That solemnity in Allen’s character is greatly received and adds to his magnetic appeal that doesn’t make the mercenary fighter a bad guy though hired by the antagonist (Emil Chau, “Super Cop 2”) of the story; instead, Allen’s fair without pulling punches and without dirty tricks, as he mentions to Chan to avoid, and we end up rooting for both men’s dignified square up being battled not in a square ring.  Tony Leung Chiu-wai (“Internal Affairs”), Ken Lo (“Holy Virgin vs. The Evil Dead”), Tats Lau (“Dating Death”), Richie Jen (“Tales from the Occult”), Siu Wai Cheung, and “Kung Fu Hustle’s” Stephen Chow costar.

While “Gorgeous” may not be evil in the least for our conversational liking and our in-depth coverage with its abundance of lighthearted goodness, romanticized ideals, and slapstick comedy, the turn of a century film has cult qualities with shoddy 90’s effects, intricate fight choreographies, and eclectic, eccentric performances that make the Hong Kong-Taiwan product standup and standout to be noticed.  The fight sequences alone swallow much of the attention and overwhelm a rather flimsy passionate plotline between C.N. Chan and Bu in what stirs between feels more platonic than desire.  “Gorgeous” attempts, and succeeds to a version of a successful end, a theme about positivity and happiness and how that brightness can be diminished by deceits, workaholism, and distracting contentions, sucking the joy from out of life and spitting out a solitude bitterness without any kind of understanding of how it all happened.  We see this more in the dynamics of business rivals Chan and L.W. Lo, two childhood friends driven apart by their subjective comparisons as they try to top one another, culminating from their back-and-forth to see who is the best at everything into the realization that their bond was ultimately worth more than success at material things.  This enriching theme, plus Jackie Chan’s stunt team work, pushes asides the infatuation glop of Chan and Bu’s playful childlike intimacy that just seems to slip through your fingers, unable grasp traction to be interesting enough.

“Gorgeous” receives an 88 Films’ 2K overhaul with a Blu-ray upgrade from the original film materials of the Hong Kong & International versions of the film, delivering two cuts in high definition 1080p and presented in an anamorphic widescreen 2.35:1 aspect ratio.  The AVC encoded BD50 offers plenty of room for “Gorgeous” to look, well, gorgeous on hi-def with a vibrant, spotless transfer of the 35mm shot print.   Coloring is consistently stable and rejuvenated for a fresh picture image; no one-off blips or glitches on the grading in sight on this very azure and teal toned production.  Despite holding two features and a handful of extras, the dual-layered single disc offers no hint of compression issues, creating a smooth beginning to end viewing.  The Hong Kong cut comes with a Cantonese DTS-HD 5.1 MA while the International Cut comes with the same as well as an English DTS-HD 5.1 dub track.  For authenticity purposes, the original native language is always the preferred choice and the Cantonese track on the HK cut simply shines with an orotund dialogue track, robust milieu and ambience, and a blended bubbly and businesslike score whenever the mood hits by Dan-yee Wong.  Balanced and kept in the check, neither track overtakes the other with a timely parallel consonance.  The newly translated English subtitles are paced well with error-free transcription.  Special features include Shy Guy – Andy Cheng, a member of Jackie Chan’s stunt team, discusses the rise of Brad Allen as well as note on the stunt team in general and Jackie Chan’s success at the time of “Gorgeous,” an interview with director Vincent Kok on Chan’s unfamiliar territory into romantic comedies, an archived making-of “Gorgeous” with raw and behind-the-scenes footage and interviews, “Gorgeous” music video in Cantonese and Mandarin, and the Hong Kong and International trailers.  The limited edition slipcover feature is a cardboard o-slip with illustrative art from 88 Films graphic artist Sean Longmore overtop a 2 to 3 millimeter thicker Blu-ray snapper to house the 32-page color booklet with daily set report of “The Accidental Spy” by writer Matthew Edwards and behind the-scene photos, a dual-sided mini-poster of Longmore’s slipcover art and the original poster one-sheet, a disc pressed with the image of Shu Qi smiling, and reversible cover art with the original poster one-sheet and a couple of “Gorgeous” stills joined together on one half.  Each cut is drastically different in length with the international cut heavily trimmed at 99 minutes while the HK cut keeps unedited at 2 hours.  Both features are not rated and are both have a region A and B playback with C untested.  Jackie Chan has always been a pillar of entertainment and “Gorgeous” is no exception to the rule.  88 Films refreshes the now 24-year-old film with a new, exciting transfer and physical package that commits one of the best fights in cinematic history to hi-def.

Fall in Love with “Gorgeous” on Blu-ray at Amazon.com!

Being Bored at Home Turns into an EVIL Enterprise! “Moonlighting Wives” reviewed! (Dark Force / Blu-ray)

They’re Housewives.  They’re bored.  They’re…”Moonlighting Wives.”  Now Available at Amazon.com!

Unsatisfied with her distressed husband’s meager wage as a third shift switchboard operator, Joan Rand strikes up a new Stenography business to bring in a little extra cash for the household.  When her new boss makes salacious advances toward her, she explores the opportunity of making more money than just on a stenographer’s wage.  Roping in her only contracted typist, Joan begins to bring in beautiful, bored housewives seeking to earn dough no matter how sexually scandalous and instead of perfecting their short hand skills or their ability to read back letters aloud without error, the determined entrepreneur revamps her stenographic business as a front for perfecting prostitution.  Infiltrating her way into every bar, hotel, and country club, even partnering with the country club’s golf pro, Joan’s call girl ring rides a profitable high and expands into new men-oriented territories but how long can the lucrative venture last when two vice cops are inching to bring down the elusive ring and one of her girls become scorned by the affectional eyes of love. 

Sexploitation has come a long way since 1966 when director Joe Sarno helmed the scene-efficient and bored housewife subversion “Moonlighting Wives.”  Before embarking full-fledged into the adult industry, Sarno blazed the trail for the economically friendly dicey skin flicks of the 1960s through the 1970s, retrospectively finding a cult base amongst observers and academics of subversive cinema and underground exploitation. “Bad Girls for Boys” producer Robert M. Moscow serves as associate producer on the Morgan Picture Corporation production, founded by George J. Morgan, producer of “The Thrill Killers” and “The Lemon Grove Kids Meet the Monster.”

Credited as Diane Vivienne, Tammy Latour (“The Naked Fog”) plays the business savvy Mrs. Joan Rand turning her dictation craft as a storefront for a more provocative and promiscuous profession to keep men happy and her pockets plush.   Latour’s a cool and calculating in her performance that makes Mrs. Rand a pragmatic kingpin of her quick-to-success prostitution ring but in doing so with her performance, that is much like everyone else’s in the film denoting a sign of the time period in which the story is constructed, Latour comes off extremely monotone like her large 60’s hairdo houses a little green man at the control of her cerebral center, calling out commands flatly, coldly, and without a slink of emotion behind her absent inflections or thousand yard stares.  Instead, much of the emotion, if any, is produced by her ashamed-driven to alcohol abusing husband and emotionally exploited bored housewife (Gretchen Rudolph, “The Dicktator”) brought to shambles after cheating on her husband and losing her paramour at the same time due to Rand’s scheming into the operational fold to rake in more rakes and cash.  We’re treated to Mr. Rand’s bottoming out as he’s no longer the bread winner and he’s suspicions overwhelm him to drink himself into a stupor.  The emotional pull that the Rand swindled housewife goes through is callously cut deep when her country club lover, Al Jordan (John Aristedes, “My Body Hungers”), becomes in cahoots with Mrs. Rand, taking her own as not only a business partner but a side-by-side lover, and coaxes his former mistress’s desire for him into doing naughty things with other men to keep him out of a deceived lie of debt.  A rollercoaster of fear, doubt, acceptance, and emotional evolution goes to full arc spectrum with the one cog in the machine that ends up breaking down the whole organization into a crumbling heap.  Aforesaid, the other performances don’t stray too far from Tammy Latour’s matter of fact and is more just a sign of the times in which “Moonlighting Wives” is produced, especially on a microbudget as early sexploitation couldn’t break into mainstream or even with welcoming arms in a more accepting niche public as a more right-wing, puritanical society was starting to be on the brink of uninhibited free love model.  “Moonlighting Wives” has a sexploitation friendly cast with June Roberts (“The Pink Pussy:  Where Sin Lives”), Marla Ellis (“Sin in the Suburbs”), Joe Santos (“Flesh and Lace”), and George Winship (“Teenage Gang Debs”).

How does a racy U.S. cinematic story beat the odds of staying out from the sleazy cinemas, like the sheltered exterior and tacky carpeted 42nd Street of the 1980s, and from being blackballed from the blue balled public looking for a little titillating release?  Innuendo in film became a thing of the past once the film boards ruled film nudity was no longer to be considered obscene a few years before 1960 and this opened up an opportunity for filmmakers to tap into the salacious half of the American population, experimenting with primal carnalities depictions that burrowed into the deepest of desires.  Since financing was scarce as the newly appointed sexploitation genre was too much of a risk for return, movies like “Moonlighting Wives” were made for next to nothing and director Joe Sarno quickly became quickly an expert in churning out licentious cinema commodities on a dime at the turn of the decade.  Having completed moderately successful films of this nature with “Warm Nights and Hot Pleasures” and “Pandora and the Magic Box,” Sarno built a rapport with actors and actresses who would return film-after-film.  John Aristedes, Joe Santos, June Roberts, and Tammy Latour, to name drop a few, regularly frequented Sarno’s casting call – and, hopefully, not his casting couch. Much like the rest of the lot, “Moonlighting Wives” serves as a lesson learned, a steep cost if you will, when morals mingle with perversity and blur the lines of right and wrong.  However, these types of films didn’t come tense action either, or rather much of any type of action because of it’s hand-to-mouth (or in related terms – any orifice to mouth) leanness in funds.  Sarno masters the exposition scene with what I like to label as high school sexual education discourse in where talking heads explain in detail every single action and do it in a tone that’s somewhere between mundane and deadpan.  Objectively, “Moonlighting Wives” is a cold-hard look at cause-and-effect with the loosening of standards jeopardizing what’s most dear to you after the deed is done. 

As a 2k restoration from the uncensored 35mm original negative, “Moonlighting Waves” has been paradoxically upgraded by adding back in original content that initially hit by censors with the lost nude scenes, a summation of 5 minutes’ worth of film, has be reclaimed for the Dark Force Entertainment Blu-ray release.  Yet, Dark Force’s release also competes with a Sarno double feature in “The Naked Fog” from Film Movement that was coincides with a similar market date.  Unfortunately, we’ve yet to land our hands on the Film Movement version to compare.  The Dark Force Blu-ray is AVC encoded with high definition 1080p resolution and presented in the letterboxed 1.33:1 aspect ratio. Back cover lists the ratio at 1.33:1 but also list an anamorphic widescreen and while I concur with the anamorphic lens, the presentation is firmly in a square box of 1.33:1.  Prefaced with a black title card warning regarding the additional image quality, more than just the additional footage has weathered under the test time to sometimes appearing more yellowish and with vertical scratch lines and speckled dust. For the most part, the overall image presentation makes the grade with an unimposing, yet steady color grading and most of the frames free from visual blights. If there were any digital enhancements done during the restoration, DNR appears to be the present culprit as facial features often appear too smooth for 35mm stock that should be developed with a fine layer of grain. The English 1.0 audio mix furnishes the appropriate single channel output for an exposition heavy feature. Distinct sound relativity is shot and the Stan Free score is lounge music 101 with rhythmic snare and hi-hat raps but the dialogue fairs rather strongly with forefront, clean, and clear conversing. Film historian Michael Bowen bookends a pair of included special features with an audio commentary track and an on-webcam interview discussing Sarno’s life coursing the newfound sexploitation genre pre his adult industry tenure. Also included is a deleted nude scene that involves no familiar actors from the trunk narrative in a seemingly out of place couple swap of the topless kind. I’m a little taken aback by the loss of some of the special features that were a part of the Alternative Cinema DVD release that are not present here on the Blu-ray, such as the Joe Sarno interview before his death. What’s neat about the physical features of the Dark Force release, aside from the clear Blu-ray snapper, is the retrograded, stark yellow and black, low-key cover art that builds up the hype with exclamational points about how obscene “Moonlighting Wives” is and not recommended it for the modestly shy and most prude moviegoers. The bold marketing attempt really perks up interesting in checking out the title that ultimately finishes with antiquated impressions, but the idea is neat, and the word heavy front cover is very representational of the exposition drenched dialogue in the narrative. Disc art is pressed with a wanted ad for young attractive women, which is also a nice touch. the region free release comes not rated and has a runtime of 86 minutes. Without a doubt scandalous in any decade, “Moonlighting Wives” encapsulates the seedlings of sexploitation with Joe Sarno at the helm of cultivating ripe, round melons out of barely any dirt and succeeding with a lust-heavy pursuit under a profession that now, ironically enough, only exists mainly in law-abiding courtrooms.

They’re Housewives.  They’re bored.  They’re…”Moonlighting Wives.”  Now Available at Amazon.com!