Tag Archives: drama

There’s Growth in the Darkest of EVIL Pacts. “Vulcanizadora” reviewed! (Oscilloscope Laboratories / Blu-ray)

Posted by Steven Lewis on

Catch “Vulcanizadora” on Blu-ray from Oscilloscope Laboratories!

Friends Derek and Marty trek through the Michigan forest to get away from their life’s problems, stopping occasionally to dig up previously stowed away porn magazines, camp around a fire and in tents out in the open air, enjoy swimming in the fresh waters of nearby lake, and videotape themselves setting off small fireworks.  As Derek enjoys life’s little moments out in the wild with his best friend, Marty’s intentions are more focused on their unspoken pact, the whole reason for their journey through isolated wilderness.  The closer they walked toward to their journey’s terminus, Marty’s determination to finish what they started becomes more rabid whereas Derek has second thoughts with fear projecting out of his nervous habits.  When one of them doesn’t return home, tremendous guilt submerses the other into self-liability as he tries to make right and to make amends for what happened between the two friends alone in the wilderness.

Vulcanizadora.  A Spanish dictionary word for tire shop or also the heat-treating process of crude rubber to improve durability.  It’s also the title of Michigan native Joel Potrykus’s written-and-directed, 2024 dark comedy drama that relates, in a way, to both English definitions of the word.  Potrykus began his directing career in comedy back in 2012 with “Ape,” a black comedy about a struggling comedian-turned-pyromaniac, and from there the residing Grand Rapids filmmaker has hovered in the bleak and comedic mingle continuing with the ill-fitted paranoia of “Buzzard,” fortune obsessed mysteries of “The Alchemist Cookbook,” and “Relaxer” that takes audiences, or at least those who lived through the experience, back to the Y2K apocalypse scare for one man’s quest to conquer the Pac-Man videogame.  “Vulcanizadora” is a produced by Hannah Dweck and Theodore Schaefer of Dweck Productions, Matt Grady of Factory 25, and Ashley and Joel Potrykus under Sob Noise Productions. 

Joel Potrykus co-stars in his own feature story alongside Potrykus film regular Joshua Burge in their first collaboration since 2018’s “Relaxer,” marking their fourth project together.  Potrykus plays the incessantly hyperactive Derek, a babbling, balding, and large goatee rocking fun seeker eager to show Marty a good time on their walk through the woods despite the grim preconceived end game.  Marty’s a direct opposite of Derek with solemn character and intensive tinkerer putting up with Derek’s nervous ways but also impatiently awaiting their determined fate.  Potrykus constructs a fascinating and fantastic preluding invisible wall with the intention of blocking both Derek and Marty’s past and chiseling out piece-by-piece under casually cryptic conversation, we can begin to learn what motivates their pact with hints of property destructive transgressions and life disaffirming unhappiness.  There’s never clearcut cause upfront or even into the second act and that naturally leaves the last act to unravel the unfortunate circumstances around what makes Joel and Marty tick, and their friendship acutely grows stronger with compassion and genuine regard despite the other’s permanent absence.  The story primarily and innately focuses on the buddy duo, that appears under the guise of the arbitrary mundane with one-sided indulgence in Derek’s childlike Incessancy and quiet Marty’s tongue-biting abiding of his friend’s then unknown stall tactics, but the narrative opens up and expands upon “Vulcanizadora’s” world as one of them reinstates themselves back into their personal misery, a smalltown society of unscrupulous lawyers, browbeating and demented fathers, challenging ex-wives, and intimidating authoritative figures casted with Bill Vincent, Sherryl Despress, Scott Ayotte, Dennis Grants, G. Foster II, Jaz Edwards, Melissa Blanchard, and introducing Solo Potrykus. 

A slow burn of melancholy, “Vulcanizadora” is masked depression at its worst with voiceless victims that work out an ill-fated end on their own.  “Vulcanizadora” is also about friendship despite the seemingly lopsided larking and crestfallen relationship between Derek and Marty, who often feel more like diamagnetism than having a connection while on their passage through the woods.  Potrykus’s story, and subsequent exhibition of the tale, depicts an all but true tragedy of feeling the impact of loss, especially in the context of underappreciated and compassionate feelings for someone else.  While the other friend is around, complacency is the devil’s active ingredient in dividing our human connection as the thought is both being alive together or dead together would be constant, and even more so when that connection is with a person who might be the best person in the world to them but just can’t see underneath the film of one’s own miscontent.  When not around, being separated makes the heart grow founder and the reality of loss sets in.  Potrykus highlights those forlorn facets in the third act surrounded by nothing of life’s hardships and unusual bombardments, which to be fair was brought upon by past transgressions of invincibility, which involve a process similar to vulcanizing, hence the title, and the knowledge that it’ll all over soon.  Yet, there’s also a sort of vulcanizing of the friendship elasticity and durability even in post-“breakup” of the friendship to create an everlasting peace with all the bad that’s happened.

Oscilloscope Laboratories, an indie label curating the filmic curiosities, releases “Vulcanizadora” to Blu-ray home video with an AVC encoded, 1080p Hi-Def resolution, BD25, presented curiously in an European widescreen 1.66:1aspect ratio, a standard proportion display you usually would primarily see in 1960s-1980s Europe with a slightly boxed and bordered matte.  A satisfiable picture for a character-driven slow burn aimed to build and destruct to build again a relationship between two friends during a time of individualized darkness is not a picture of perfection where certain areas inside the forest are out of focus and indistinct, such as the blending of orange and brown leaves on the ground in very long shots while capturing the principals traversing through.  Likely more of an issue with the cinematography than in compression because Potrykus uses 16mm to evoke a richer texture, “Vulcanizadora” is not a high-powered, action-packed thriller or sensational visual drama to be affected by it’s off-and-on focus.  Details are generally better around close-to-medium shot textures, skin tones appear organically accurate, and there’s decent depth of field inside a naturally limited color range.  There are some good close ups that do deviate, such as in a gorier graphic shot that impales more intrusive grain into the cell, in what is perhaps a limitation of 16mm zoomed in.  There are often indiscernible blips in the film stock because of its newer production but the grain, when not extended, is organic with an enriching natural aesthetic.  The English DTS-HD 5.1 surround sound is more than enough to cover all audio aspects from a precisely clear and clean dialogue to a Sasa Slogar’s sound design of comping operatic harmonies of soprano Maria Callas with the rough heavy metal soundscape of the Brazillian band Sepultura.  Dialogue retains in the forefront even in long shots when characters are at far points in the scene denoting an omission of depth in what is mostly a medium-to-close shot narrative.  English subtitles are optionally available.  Joel Potrykus, Joshua Burge, and cinematographer Adam J. Minnick provide an audio commentary track parallel to the feature with a making-of “Vulcanizadora,” deleted scenes, the theatrical trailer, and Potrykus’s short film, “Pets” to fill out the special features.  Oscilloscope Laboratories release comes in a clear Viva case with an unsettling yet telling death and video image in its cyborg-esque edge cover art and a reverse cover honed-in on a still image of the two protagonists.  Disc comes company typical pressed with the company logo large and in charge at the center and film title hovering over top.  The not rated release has a runtime of 85 minutes and is suitable for all region playback.

Last Rites: Few will relish in Potrykus’s “Vulcanizadora’s” slow-and-steady tragedy of deep depression and the crawling out of the fiasco unfolded, self-dug hole to find some sliver of peace and comfort in doing one right thing for a friend.

Catch “Vulcanizadora” on Blu-ray from Oscilloscope Laboratories!

To Be an Intolerant Human Is to Be EVIL! “Lion-Girl” reviewed! (Cleopatra Entertainment / Blu-ray)

Posted by Steven Lewis on

Here is “Lion-Girl.” Hear Her Roar on Blu-ray!

In the year 2045, a rain of meteorites harbingers the possible destruction of the human race as the space rocks contain harmful, radioactive rays that either kill a human within seconds or doesn’t kill them at all but transformers them into bloodletting, mutated beasts with superhuman abilities known as Anoroc.  While the rest of the world collapses, only Tokyo remains as the last human stronghold governed by a fascist dictator Nobuhide Fujinaga and his band of ruthless, police state Shogun led by despotic Kaisei Kishi.  Fujinaga and Kishi’s prejudices extend decades later when children in utero are exposed to Anoroc rays that keep their human appearances and behaviors only to have gained the psychokinetic energy powers.  These evolved man and Anoroc are labeled Man-Anoroc and are sought out for extermination but one defender of the weak and less fortunate, known as Lion-Girl, takes a stand against the forces of evil and bigotry, making Lion-Girl Earth’s last and only hope.

Inspired by the prolific manga works of Gô Nagai (“Cutie Honey,” “Devilman”) and Nagai providing the conceptual illustrations, the Japanese filmmaker behind the pulse-pounding pistol-whipper  “Gun Woman,” starring cult erotic-actress Asami, and the Italian yellow picture, or giallo, influenced “Maniac Driver” turns his eclectic, electric style to reproduce his love for manga and the classic Japanese superhero canon with a new heroine in “Lion Girl.”  Kurando Mitsutake endears to his audiences through passion for cutting-edge manga’s commanding nudity, a hero’s odyssey in a dystopian future, and a comic’s style depicting graphically good versus evil.   The COVID era stymied production costs due to supply issues, affecting various departments such as special effects and even the cast with relative unknown faces, but Mitsutake pushes forward with the Japanese Toei Video Company (“Battle Royale”) co-production with America’s Flag Productions and Nagai’s Dynamic Planning.  Masayuki Yamada, Gaku Kawasaki (“The Parasite Doctor Suzune”), and Mami Akari (“Maniac Driver”) produce the film.

As stated, “Lion-Girl” is filled with unrecognizable faces save for one, an actor who is usually behind the masks, such as in “The Hills Have Eyes 2” ’07,” “Predators,” and even donning the iconic hockey mask for the 2009 reboot of “Friday the 13th” as Jason Voorhees.  Derek Mears headlines being the film’s core villain, shogun Kaisei Kishi, the remorseless, power-hungry right-hand man of the Fujinaga state, as Mears’ towering 6’5” stature and unique facial features pit him against a then 22-year-old newcomer Tori Griffith in a highly visibly protagonist role requiring fully onboard nudity and choreographed physical altercations.  Griffith pulls off both requirements going through the tokusatsu, hoodoo cliffside and other desert terrain, geometries of motion that fortunately conceal a more softened performance when compared to Mears’ who actually puts a fair amount of attitude into the shogun role.  As the Lion-Girl’s sworn protector, as well as one-eyed uncle, Damian Toofeek Raven (“Komodo vs. Cobra”) resembles the sempai fostering and mentoring a younger, stronger apprentice to one day save the world.  Raven, like most of the film’s cross-cultural influences, is able to ride the line as force into an honorable fatherhood with Ken Shishikura but the character poorly exorcises compassion of a father substitute until the very end when the right moment in the script calls for it.  One flaw in “Lion-Girl’s” casting stitch is the feature could have been meatier as keystone supporting characters come and go so quickly that it could rival the likes of “Mortal Kombat 2:  Annihilation.”  Thus, rapid firing subordinate roles just to progress the story creates more questions than answers and creates more plot holes than necessary.   Nobuhide Fujinaga (Tomoki Kimura, “A Beast in Love”) leads as the iron fist of bigotry in a tyrannically society but barely has presence other than on television announcements, a pair of Kishi entourage lackeys (David Sakurai, “Karate Kill,” and Jenny Brezinski, “From Jennifer”) get lifted up by the dialogue and some action but have the rug cut out from under them from really being developed and explored, and even principal character Marion Nagata (Joey Iwanaga, “Tokyo Vampire Hotel”), the gunslinging coyote, has zero foundational building blocks being a love interest for Lion-Girl yet crowns as such at the story’s climatic showdown.  “Lion-Girl” is saturated with supporting cast and stock characters with round out by Marianne Bourg, Matt Standley, Shelby Lee Parks, Hideotoshi Imura, Holgie Forrester, Katarina Severen, Stefanie Estes, and Wes Armstrong.

“Lion-Girl” roars as a wild, untamed animal, mangy in its worst moments but also majestic at the same time.  This paradoxical cultural expression befits the co-superpowers production, blending Japanese and American flavors and faults into one oversized bag of live-action manga.  With a derision mostly toward western affairs, such as the media circus surrounding the xenophobic administration’s handling of the corona virus, to which the filmic beasts known as Anaroc is corona spelled backwards, the haughty, bullying state doesn’t stray far from Kurando Mitsutake’s pen-to-paper handiwork as he also invokes Gô Nagai’s freedom sense of nudity and violence aimed to shake up with acculturation in high level eroticism that’s not seen as sleazy or objectifying but rather empowering and artistic.  What Mitsutake does really well and what’s also to the film’s misstep for today’s audiences is the complete blitzkrieg of background setup that’s bombastically overwhelming with incident backstory, dystopian factions, and the new terminologies in a single, longwinded breath, culminating to an early point in the film with a fight between Lion-Girl and an Anaroc beast where mutated breasts are essentially turned into a flamethrower and psychokinetic battles are commissioned in headspace.  That’s the kind of psychotronic tone that bears the cult seal of approval, or in this film, the lion’s share of cult approval. 

Cleopatra Entertainment, the filmic subsidiary company of Cleopatra Records, scores big with Kurando Mitsutake retro-fitted superhero “Lion-Girl” on Blu-ray.  The AVC encoded, high-definition 1080p, single-layered BD25 is literally stuffed to the brim, presented in a 1.78:1 widescreen aspect ratio.  Compression bitrate swings the pendulum, decoding between low 30s and high teens resulting in smoothed over details.  To the film’s advantage, the abated details play into the old-style Japanese action flicks of yore, creating a pseudo-illusion of a flatten color palette and lower resolution last seen on tube televisions.  Okay, might not be to that extent as therein lies decently popping color scheme and rough contouring and lighting in more scarce settings to make the scenes less complex and rely on more smoke and mirrors to stretch the interior-exterior location budget.  The lossy English language Dolby Digital 5.1 surround track is accompanied with also a Dolby Digital 2.0 stereo.  While nothing to negatively harp on in regard to “Lion-Girl’s” sound design and soundtrack as a whole, there’s plenty to like about the wide-ranged, heavy rock-riffing audio with unequivocal balance between the sounds and channeling albeit a lesser fidelity.  Peppered with Japanese words, the dialogue is forefront and clear that red-carpet the numerous monologues with all-day importance.  The release does not come with any subtitle option.  Bonus content includes a director’s commentary track, a conversation between Kurando Mitsutake and manage artist Gô Nagai as they discuss nudity, working in America, genesis for “Lion-Girl,” and their COVID era collaborations, the making-of “Lion-Girl,” “The Hollywood premier screen with cast and director Q&A, a picture slideshow, and the theatrical trailer.  Cleopatra’s release caters to a conventional standard retail market with a commonplace Amaray and disc release and nothing more.  The front cover design is not terribly appeasing with a crowded image composite bathed in an eye-deafening and searing red.  Disc represents the same front cover image and there is no insert inside the Amaray casing.  The region free release is unrated and has an impressively entertaining runtime of a 121-minutes.  Marketed to be a different kind of superhero movie, “Lion-Girl” is certainly more than that, portrayed by Kurando Mitsutake as a love song toward the pulp exposure of his childhood and the film really glows passionately like an Anaroc with supernatural powers ready to strike with nostalgia at the heart of Japanese pop culture.

Here is “Lion-Girl.” Hear Her Roar on Blu-ray!

EVIL Wants Your Brain Fluid! “Vile” reviewed! (MVD Visual / Blu-ray)

Posted by Steven Lewis on

These “Vile” Atrocities are now on Blu-ray!

What was supposed to be a relaxing camping trip amongst friends has turned into a torturous nightmare when four friends wake up to find themselves in the company of five strangers in a basement and learn they’ve all been kidnapped for a purpose.  Behind the illicit arrangement is an illegal drug manufacture whose formula is produced from the byproduct of the brain’s fear and pain induced chemicals.  With a 22-hour clock counting down from the first act of violence, the puzzled lot must fill a 100% quota before time runs out in order to be set free from the reinforced house they awoke in and the only way to do that is by hurting each other to fill the vials connected to the backside of their heads.  Framing a plan, a vote proceeds a numerical order of voluntary participation of torture, each contributing a fraction of the pain percentage needed to survive and be free, but egos, fears, and secrets cost them more than a few moments of unbearable pain.   

Before becoming Paramount Network’s golden nugget for creating the more recent acclaimed American television drama with shows like “Yellowstone,” “1883,” “1923,” “Tulsa King,” and “Special Ops:  Lioness,” Taylor Sheridan had first directed a small-time horror movie over ten years ago in 2011.  The title “Vile,” a play on words used to not only describe the cruel atrocities done from one character to another but also alluding to vial containers used to fill up with fear and pain fluid, is the brainchild of scriptwriters Eric Beck and Rob Kowsaluk.  Certainly, a different tone compared to hardnosed westerners and high-profile casted thrillers, Sheridan filmmaking roots from “Vile” mold his next stage directions of cruel character dynamics.  Beck produces the feature with Noël K. Cohan (“Into the Void”), Tina Pavlides (“100,000 Zombie Heads”), and Kelly Andrea Rubin (“Skeeter”) with presumably father Larry Beck footing some of the funding under the LLC of Vile Entertainment in association with Bosque Ranch Productions and Signature Entertainment.

An ensemble cast thrusts strangers into the throes of do-or-die but amongst the cast of characters, a delicate introduction of a core four put forth the wheels in motion of the sick extraction technique all in the name of drugs and profit.  The preliminary meet-and-greet of Nick (Eric Beck), Tayler (April Matson, “Primrose Lane”), Tony (Akeem Smith, “Holla II”), and Kai (Elisha Skorman) sets up love interests, Tayler’s secret pregnancy, Kai’s drug problem, and a playfully semi-morbid game of would you rather that foreshadows another choice pick of torture later the group has to contend with when joined with the other five test subjects – a dark and cryptic Greg (Rob Kirkland), a subtly anxious Julian (Ian Bohen, “5 Souls”), a selfish hothead Tara (Maya Hazen, “Shrooms”), a young and frightened Lisa (Heidi Mueller) and a level-headed Sam (Greg Cipes, “Deep Dark Canyon”). The variety of character provides varying shades of distrust, betrayal, and hope as factions form and convictions are about-faced, jostling those steadfast at first and solidifying principals for those teetering on the edge.  As whole, the cast works well together to provide adequate and satisfying suspicion as well as selling a particular attitude despite a couple of red herrings that are hidden really well within the framework. As individuals, lots of the dialogue pertains to self-explanatory states of the obvious that stick out like a sore thumb of colloquial filler with a story set in one location with the same nine people for approx. an hour long. ”Vile’s” cast rounds out with McKenzie Westmore and the unmistakable Maria Olsen (“I Spit on Your Grave 2: Deja Vu”) in a procedure-nothing televised head. 

As much as I disfavor comparing one film to another outside of sequels, series, or franchises, “Vile’s” voice is lost as an individual. Seven years prior, James Wan and Leigh Whannell began what would become one of the biggest contemporary horror franchises with “Saw,” spanning sequels through two decades, and concluding, thus so far, with this past year’s “Saw X.” What does this have to do with “Vile?” ”Vile” follows much of the same formula Wan and Whannel concocted in the earlier 2000s with a very to-the-manual approach of “Saw’s” collaring of individuals, media announcing a timed-task, and the players of the game have to hurt themselves, or others, in order to be set free. Fundamentally different with “Vile” has more to do pure greed and profit at the expense of those unfortunate to be in the path of profiteers whereas “Saw” forces transgressors into rebirth through pain and suffering. ”Vile” is also not as explicitly graphic with much of the torturous violence done out of sight, off screen, or in a blink of an eye. Nevertheless, the intriguingly staid premise takes the human condition to the limit and steps across the line of no return of committing what is self-destructively necessary to survive. Beck and Kowsaluk tweak the formula by a narrow margin but the manner of how the narrative plays out distances “Vile” to almost unitary means. For example, “Saw” almost always had a dual storyline that eventually converges with a shocking twist-tie conclusion. ”Vile’s” straightforward with a singular storyline that isn’t dichotomized with a parallel storyline, a periodization storyline, or any other type of storyline to be a crutch for the other, leaving audiences in the undivided present that’s an around-the-clock time crunch to live or die by the hands of themselves or at the mercy of others, and with a palpable enough twist that you’ll kick yourself in the chin for not predicting it ahead of time. 

“Vile” comes to Blu-ray from MVD Visual on the company’s Marquee Collection label. The AVC encoded, 1080p High-Definition, BD25 has the film presented in a widescreen 1.78:1 aspect ratio. Limited to a two-tone grading of steely blues and canary yellows, picture quality range has spasmodic bursts of interiority to agreeable presentations. More of the pre-ensnarement night scenes appear granulated by macroblocking, degrading the image to pre-high definition pixelated rate. Bitrate decoding jumps sporadically from mid-teens to mid-30Mbps, most likely due to an unstable data compression transfer. Compression appears better, though not flawless, later in the runtime with tighter contouring and a finer detail on a grungy, dirty, dilapidated house where the main set takes footing. The English Dolby Digital 5.1 and the uncompressed LCPM 2.0 are the available audio options, both of which lack commodious conviction with a suppressed volume. While the dialogue renders sufficiently with discernibility and clarity, much of the eye-averting torture sound design, the milieu audio, and even the rock-hard rock soundtrack retains an undeliberate lo-fi quality. English subtitles are optionally available. Special features include two deleted scenes that expand on more of the earlier character interactions, a behind-the-scene moment of director Taylor Sheridan mopping the kitchen set and singing, and the feature trailer plus other MVD Marquee Collection trailers. Tangible features include a cardboard O-slipcover, first pressings only, vaunting the nastiness to come and, again, appropriates a “Saw” cover with that nastiness of an extracted, bloody tooth in a pair of vice grip, a nod to the “Saw III” poster/home video art. The Amary case has reversible cover art with the original “Vile” artwork on the inside. The unrated, 88-minute MVD Marquee Collection feature has a region free playback. If “Saw” is deluxe imperial crab, then “Vile” is the suitable imitation equivalent with a steady pace of group-wrenching contrition and contempt that forgoes the games for straight up blunt force trauma. 

These “Vile” Atrocities are now on Blu-ray!

Eric Bana Embraces EVIL’s Infamy! “Chopper” reviewed! (Second Sight Films / Blu-ray)

Posted by Steven Lewis on

Mark “Chopper” Read is one of Australia’s bestselling authors.  Read is also one of Australia’s most notorious criminals having wrote his autobiography in prison.  The pathological criminal’s life begins in the H Division of the Pentridge Prison in the late 70s where he quickly establishes himself a leader of a small three-man gang and viciously murders a rival leader at the chagrin of his acolytes, Jimmy Loughnan and Bluey Barnes.  When Jimmy turns on Chopper, stabbing him multiple times and then accusing him of attacking first, the ordeal has a subtle effect on the wildly shrewd and wayward Chopper who 8 years later is released with massively suppressed paranoia as old flings and old acquaintances are believed to be going behind his back or contracting a kill order on his head.  Under the delusions of working for the police, a paranoid, suspicious-filled, and unpredictable Chopper takes the opportunity to revisit old accomplices, such as the treacherous prison mate now turned drug addicted family man Jimmy Loughnan, after rumors circulate of Loughnan’s involvement in placing a contract on Chopper that results in conspiracy and murder.

Not to be confused as being completely autobiographical, or even semi-biographical, “Chopper” is a highly-stylized and self-proclaimed embellished account of the late Mark Brandon Read.  The Australian feature written-and-directed by Andrew Dominik (“Killing Them Softly”) was once the highest grossing Australian films of all time and still marks as a predominant, early 2000 release to accentuate Chopper’s high energy, erraticism, and violent behavior along with a stellar, method-acting performance from the lead star Eric Bana, who before turning into one of Hollywood’s most recognizable Australian actors was a former sketch comedian and stand-up comic.  Shot in Melbourne, Victoria, “Chopper” is produced by Michele Bennett and Michael Gudinski (“Wolf Creek,” “Cut”) with Al Clark (“Gothic”) and Marin Fabinyi (“Bait’) as executive producers under the state funded Australian Film Finance Corp. as well as Mushroom Pictures and Pariah Entertainment. 

As mentioned, Eric Bana, star of Ang Lee’s “Hulk,” and having villainous roles in the J.J. Abrams “Star Trek” prequel and “Deadfall” alongside Olivia Wilde, helms the titular character with a plumped-up version of himself, grows a wicked handlebar mustache, and engrosses himself into the peculiar persona that is Mark Brandon Read.  “Chopper” really puts Bana’s range on display with a crucial to success performance and the actor lets Read sublease headspace in what is an aberrated humor and darkly concerning ball of a biography.  Bana manages to make Chopper likeable yet terrifying, funny yet ferocious, and human yet monstrous as an unpredictable juggernaut of paranoia and survival that only knows how to protect himself by thwarting violence with violence.  Chopper mingles with other unsavory, carnivalesque characters in his journey through a jailbird’s life with what he considered his number one mate in prison Jimmy Loughnan (Simon Lydon, “Blackrock”), an old foe in Neville Bartos (Vince Colosimo, “Daybreakers”), and druggie girlfriend Tanya (Kate Beahan, “The Return”).  In Chopper’s post-near death eyes, enemies and friends are now subject to his suspicions, making him truly lonely in his own world of crime.  Performances shepherd in waves of volatility, intensity, and even immodest humor that force the scenes between them and Chopper into a pool of frigid and death-calling ice water, yet somehow, in the same breath, Dominik is able to take those performances in “Chopper” and turn them into one-giant joke at Read’s expense while still managing to keep afloat some sort of baseline truth to this period in time of his existence.  “Chopper’s” cast fills out with other colorful roles from Dan Wyllie, David Field, Gary Waddell, Hilton Henderson, Kenny Graham, Brian Mannix, Sam Houli, Robert Rabiah, Skye Wansey, and Terry Willesee. 

Most Americans will likely never understand “Chopper” as the comedy Dominik intends.  Bana does so damn good at his job, especially in his feature film debut, and Dominik’s black humor becomes murky by subsequent and sudden jerks toward humanization that audiences will grasp in different directions on how they’re supposed to feel and relate toward a character who stabs a man to death in the face and then cry in compassion for him or beats his girlfriend and then next scene unzips his pants and pulls out his manhood under the bar countertop to show his now ex-girlfriend while talking to two police investigators about his delusions of undercover responsibilities at the other end of the bar.  In its two-tone theme of the 1970’s thin, assured, and incarcerated Read and the decade later bulkier, paranoid, and free Read, “Chopper” has paradoxical and against the grain tones of wildly encompassing visualized thoughts stitched stylistically in the same fashion for pure entertainment value to symbolize Read’s emotively internalized expression.   Though fully linear, Dominik’s narrative structure can also be off-putting to audiences, digging into the entertainment value with crude edits and choppy segues that hardly shapes a timeframe and that can be tough for viewers invested in a particular storyline only to be abruptly pulled out of it and placed into another decade and an entirely different situation altogether.  Then again, “Chopper” essentially has no conventional plot other than the fleeting, distinct stages of a bumpy and insecure Mark Brandon Read’s course through crimes of contract and charisma of character. 

“Chopper” arrives onto a Second Sight Films Limited Edition Blu-ray set and a Standard Edition Blu-ray in association with Vertigo Releasing.  This reviewer was able to get hands on the Standard Edition that’s an AVC encoded BD50 with 1080p High-Definition resolution of a 2K graded, restored scan presented in a widescreen 1.78:1 aspect ratio.  A steely graded first act leads into vivid variability with color, matching Chopper’s descent tenor from shaking stability to a rocky road of mistrust. Decoding at a bitrate of approx. 23Mbps, Second Sight Films’ scan has elevated the details within the tumble of stylistic choices that closely symbolizes specific Chopper eras in which a very different Chopper is exclusive to one or the other while retaining a great amount of natural grain of the 35mm print. Audio specs include an English DTS-HD Master Audio 5.1 which, though lossy, has great compressed fidelity mostly in the dialogue department. Plenty of reverberations captured onsite at the Pentridge Penitentiary scenes that add a slither of realism instead of isolating solely the actors’ discourse. Dialogue itself is clean and clear without obstruction. When moved past Pentridge, the environment layers are scaled back to more isolated effects driven by the actors, i.e. gunshots, scuffles, etc., and so we lose that bit of realism deeper we go into Chopper’s psyche and the soundtrack from “Deliver Us From Evil’s” Mick Harvey pumps a little harder. Optional English subtitles are available. Though missing out on some of the physical lot in the bonus content, the standard release still offers a bountiful built-in special feature of old and new with fresh commentaries by Australian critic and author Alexandra Heller-Nicholas and Australian film scholar Josh Nelson, new interviews by writer-director Andrew Dominik Stand-up Comedy and Violence, new interview with composer Mick Harvey Not your Typical Film Composer, and a new interview with editor Ken Sallows A Tale of Two Halves. Archived bonus material regains new life and traction with commentaries from Chopper himself Mark Read and one with Andrew Dominik, a behind-the-scenes that sees raw film footage and cast and crew tidbits, a Weekend With Chopper is raw and untouched home video footage of Andrew Dominik and Eric Bana spending a couple of days with a wildly excited Read giving anecdotal accounts of his prison life and discussing his disbelief with a film where the subject is himself, and deleted scenes with optional director’s commentary. This particular Second Sight release comes off a little different than past dispersions in physical attributes with a clear green Amary Blu-ray case, something I have not seen before from the UK label. Detail illustration of Eric Bana as the titular Chopper holding a gun to his head in ebullience is quite striking and explicit in its purple-green coloring. Inside is what you roughly get with any standard release with no insert, but the disc is pressed with the same cinereal-alike art representing one of the Chopper’s frequent locations in the story. ”Chopper” is regionally locked on B for the feature that has a 94-minute runtime and is UK certified 18 for strong bloody violence and very strong language. Unlike any criminal to have ever lived and to have ever been represented on screen, “Chopper” wily tussles with Western audiences despite the dedication of Eric Bana but the work and the film can’t be denied as anything but great about an unusual man in a hyper dramatization that pierces more truth than fiction and now Second Sight cements a next level, Hi-Def release to better legitimize the irregular gang member and thug Chopper into cinema homes around the globe.

Three Women Murder to Stand Up Against EVIL! “A Question of Silence” reviewed! (Cult Epics / Blu-ray)

Posted by Steven Lewis on

“A Question of Silence” Laughs Louder than Words on Blu-ray!

Three different in age and lifestyle women carry on with the routine of their normal lives until police offices arrest them on the charge of murdering a male owner of a clothing boutique.  Having seemingly no motive and have no connection to each other, never having met each other before, the confounded prosecution hire a psychiatrist to determine the women’s mental state for the brutal beating of the shopkeeper.  As the psychiatrist interviews and digs into their personal lives to give rationality to an irrational crime, she finds herself drawn to the women and their heinous act stemmed by a life history that paints a picture of dehumanizing neglect and of providing zero respect.  Subjectively overwhelms objectivity the deeper she looks into their case and her professionalism is put to the test when she has to decide whether being labeled insane fits the accusation or if a more gender bias systemic issue is at play.

After a rousing first part of feminist revenge with “Red Sun” from 1970, we fast-forward slightly over a decade later in 1982, and moving from out of Germany and into the Netherlands, with Marleen Gorris’s acclaimed crime drama “A Question of Silence.”  With little-to-no film prior film experience, Gorris becomes a provocateuse with her debut picture that stirs controversy amongst one side of the sexes.  “A Question of Silence,” natively titled “De stilte rond Christine M,” or “The Silence around Christine M.,” became the best Dutch film of the year with local accolades, including a Golden Calf for best film at the Netherlands Film Festival the year of release.  Along with the Rudolf Thome’s “Red Sun” and the German social commentary on women integrating into equal social and professional positions, Gorris comes at a time where the status of Dutch women were on the lower end of the gender equality scale, especially in the workforce.  Matthijs van Heijningen, who produced polemic features directed by women filmmakers, such as Nouchka van Brakel’s “A Woman Like Eve” and “The Cool Lakes of Death,” risked yet another credit to his name with the virtually unknown writer-director Marleen Gorris and her sizeable undertone story under his company, Sigma Film Productions.

The narrative opens with Janine van den Bos and her husband Ruud having a flirtatious moment on the couch where Janine playfully annoys her book-reading husband with advances sexual foreplay.  Without knowing who these two people are exactly, other than they’re in a version of a relationship, Janine, played by Cox Habbema, and husband Ruud, played by Eddy Brugman setup metaphorically what’s inherently wrong with society with a woman seeking something and the man ignoring her and practically commanding her to stop the foolishness in a dismissive way.  This opening scene then cuts to the three women being arrested, led up to by intercuts of their daily routine before the police confront them.  We’re treated to some of the most idiosyncratic and grounded performances by Edda Barends as the muted housewife Christine, Nelly Frijda as the cackling coffee barista Annie, and Henriëtte Tol as the beautiful and intelligent secretary Andrea.  The three women never met before, never plotted before, and never killed before but a sudden epiphany while shopping became the straw that broke the camel’s back, turning watershed into bloodshed that unveiled something just as sinister as murder.  Cox Habbema engrosses herself into the psychiatric role as an educated woman analyzing and judging other women while also being judged herself by the opposite sex despite a higher-level of learning and professionalism.  Without exposition, characters express themselves through action while being ambiguous through dialogue, working to convey the lopsided gender equality across the screen perfectly without even one ounce of explanatory detail dropped. 

What’s most intriguing about Gorris’s film is it’s mirroring quality to society.  “A Question of Silence” doesn’t fabricate grand futures or alternate universes with eccentric, wily characters to be metaphorical fodder of expression; instead, Gorris remains earthbound, present, and timely by incorporating true-to-form examples that create derogatory silence on women.  The non-linear narrative, cutting back-and-forth from investigative present to the chronicled past visualizes the women’s struggles and frustrations living inside a male-dominated culture.  From being expected to handling all aspects of the household and childcare, to being brushed off and dismissed by colleagues, to forgotten and underappreciated, Gorris forces a frank contemplation on a patternized and patronized patriarchy.  Heightening the tension, Lodewijk de Boer and Martijn Hasebos’s giallo-esque and experimental soundtrack adds a layer of loadstone to see whether these extempore femme fatales executed a crime. 

Cult Epics, in association with the Eye Film Institute, continue their campaign on delivering thought-provoking, provocative, and controversial Dutch masterpieces onto the high-definition stage with their latest release, “A Question of Silence.”  The AVC encoded, 1080p, BD50 stored feature is presented in the 1:66:1 European widescreen aspect ratio.  The 2K HD scanned transfer and restoration is based off the 35mm print; however, judging by the grain levels and very little preserved detail, especially in a HD scan, I’d say the original negative was 16mm and then blown up for 35mm project, which was a fairly common process.  The noticeable enlargement of grain dampens picture details less favorable yet not the image quality is not a total wash with a stable graded rendering, with a natural skin tone and pigment of objects, and the presence of imperfections kept in a minimum – such as the occasional cigarette burns and dust/dirt.  What excels here mostly is the lack of compression issues so we’re only treated to the innate quirks of the original celluloid film.  The release offers two Dutch language audio options – a LPCM 2.0 mono and a DTS-HD MA 2.0.  Toggling between both tracks, there’s not much different between them until Nelly Frijda’s crone-cackle distinguishes itself with robust HD prominence projecting full-bodied through the dual channel.  Again worth noting, Lodewijk de Boer and Martijin Hasebos synthesizing score, coupled with Marleen Gorris’s tense and taut flashback storyline, casts a disquieting tone that’s very fitting for a film entitled “A Question of Silence.”  Dialogue, as well as the score and overall soundtracks, suffer very little from the slight hum of the running camera and some minor hissing but the general result has tremendous.  English subtitles are optional and synch well with error-free translation; however, upon watching the special features, the Cult Epics’ feature translations differ from the copious amount of snippet clips of the interview segments.  Roughly the same interpretation but the phrasing maybe clearer and less wordy in the snippets so I’d be interested in the, what I assume would be, the original English translation.  Special features include an audio commentary by film scholar Patricia Pisters, an archival Cinevise interview with Marleen Gorris from feature release year 1982, a sit-down, one-on-one interview with lead actress Cox Habbema and Cinevise host a year later, a Polygoon Journal Newsreel from ’82 that mentions the Golden Calf award from the Netherlands Film Festival, a promotional gallery, and trailers.  The clear Blu-ray cover comes with the tear-drenched and shadow-obscured face of Cox Hebbema with a reversible still image of the three accused women on the inside.  No insert included and the disc is pressed with the same front cover art.  Cult Epics Blu-ray comes with region free playback and the feature is 97-minutes and unrated.  Marleen Gorris first run as a filmmaker denotes her as a masterful storyteller with a timeless tale of close-quartered and subtle masculine tyranny in an attempt to open the unwilling eyes of the narrow focused. 

“A Question of Silence” Laughs Louder than Words on Blu-ray!