Tag Archives: Hong Kong

Two Cops. Two Girls. One EVIL Crime Boss! “Rosa” reviewed! (88 Films / Limited Edition Blu-ray)

Posted by Steven Lewis on

Grab the Limited Edition Blu-ray of “Rosa” from 88 Films!

Little Monster and Lui Gung didn’t get along to begin with when Little Monster’s accident put Kung’s sister in the hospital for minor injuries but when the two rookie cops get on the bad side of their direct supervisor, Inspector Tin, they have no choice but to work together under his pleasure to see them suffer.  The two cops are assigned to the case of Li Wei-Feng, a smalltime crook who tries to black male mob boss Wong with incriminating photographs of a deal gone deadly.  They stay on top of and befriend Wei-Feng’s ex-girlfriend Rosa in hopes he’ll show up but the cops find themselves going on more double dates between Kung wooing the model Rosa and Little Monster courting Kung’s sister than actually doing any detective leg work.  Before they know it, they’re assisting Rosa out of her gambling debts with medium level bosses and on hot coals with Boss Wong’s formidable henchmen who will stop at nothing and will kill anyone in their way from obtaining the smoking gun film roll. 

“Rosa” is the 1986, Tung Cho “Joe” Cheung directed buddy cop comedy-action film from Hong Kong,  Cheung has delivered a string of action comedies prior, such as with the a torn Kung Fu novice must jealous mend the rift between his two masters before a war ensues in “The Incredible Kung-Fu Master” in 1978 and the story of a veteran police officer who must work both sides of the law to manage his wife’s gambling addiction is paired with a rookie cop to take down transgresses in “Shadow Ninja,” release in 1980.  “Rosa” is another notch of comedic effort in Cheung’s belt but on a bigger scale with well-known actors, a large cast, incredible stunts, and fast martial arts choreography in a script penned by the “Chungking Express” director Wong Kar-Wai and “Hard Boiled” and “Mr. Vampire” writer Barry Wong.  Wong and Anthony Chow (“The Cat”) produce the film under the Golden Harvest Company and Bo Ho Film Company flags.

“Rosa” uses an ensemble cast more for comedic purposes rather than to instill dramatic action, beginning chief principal Biao Yuen, who we’ve recently reviewed in another new phenomenal physical 88 Films Blu-ray release in “Saga of the Phoenix” and has had roles in “Game of Death,” “Encounter of a Spooky Kind,” and “Picture of a Nymph,” as the endearingly named Little Monster, a go-lucky rookie cop with skilled martial arts moves.  Charming and confidence, Yuen plays the most sensible of protagonists without absorbing a lot of humiliation unlike his costar Lowell Lo who finds himself in a more subordinate role of Lui Gung underneath Little Monster’s suavity by having more overreactions, slapstick, and chasing with his tongue out a lost cause – that being Rosa.  “Inferno Thunderbolt’s” Hsiao-Fen Lu plays that titular role, a gambler addict and model with loan shark debt with ties to a small-time crook that incidentally involve her in a deadlier high-stakes blackmail with a power crime boss, but her importance is depreciated by Yuen and Lo’s buddying comedy and not the driving focus of the plot.  In all, the progression is a group effort rather than encamping around a centralized person.  With that being said, Kara Ying Hung Wai (“The Ghost Story”) often feels like an afterthought, a proverbial fourth wheel, as Gung’s sister Lui Lui whos’ gifted lines and a presence here and there but is mainly only Little Monster’s love interest in corporeal presence only.  Rounding out the good guys is the hapless Inspector Tin (Paul Chun, “To Hell With the Devil”), an arrogant supervisor who doesn’t want to get his hands dirty with police work and recruits Little Monster and Kung as punching bags for wrong him in their individualized opening, mishap run-ins with the inspector, another comedy outlet absorbing Rosa’s unintended entrenched Mob connection.  The Mob and other baddies fill out the cast with Billy Sau Yat Ching, James Tien, Charlie Cho, Fat Chung, Chen Chuan, and Dick Wei. 

As far as “Rosa’s” action is concerned, it is topnotch quality between the wide-variety of stunts, the pinpoint choreography, and the excellently executed martial art fights that disproportionately leaves the narrative as a quintessential chop-socky police story.  I say disproportionately because the action is overly consumed by the comedy that, in itself, has struggles.  The humor physicality lands with precision with big hits taken in accidental error or are made within the context of choreographed fight scenes mostly stemmed by Lowell Lo and Paul Chun as they bumble their way through situations, but the dialogued jokes and other vocal gags are terribly corny that unfortunately dilute the overall mirth-murky pool that it becomes too often cringeworthy to swim in.  The light-hearted and sexualized humor is blended with an endless wooing and an outdo rivalry between the forced partnership that evolves into a fond friendship between Little Monster and Lui Gung, who is often referred to as Big Brother.  Lowell Lo embodies a larger slapstick piece of the pie with his distinguishable friendly face and doughy-eyed demeanor, contrasted against the athletic slender of Biao Yuen who outshines him on the conventional society determined good looks scale with an unassuming martial arts skillset to match.  All the serious and grim nature comes out of the Hong Kong’s criminal element with deadly assassins that use piano wire and large caliber handgun to lacerate jugulars and explode cars full of betrayed crooks.  The third act finale finally puts the pieces together and creates a harmonious brawl that blends action and comedy evenly, even integrating Lui Lui into the fold with an out of the blue ability to hold her own and fight just as fast and furious as Little Monster.  

Another Golden Harvest distributed production garners attention once again on 88 Films, in association with Fortune Star Films, with a definitive Blu-ray set from the UK boutique label making their presence known here in the North American market.  The AVC encoded, 1080p high-definition transfer, onto a BD50 has remarkable presentational quality with a pristine print transferred onto a 2K scan from its original 35mm negative.  The immersive quality shows no sign of destabilizing the matrix, leaving audiences with the immense scope of a cleaner, natural image full of depth and range of saturated and diffused color.  Skin tones appear organic and nitty-gritty with the stubble, sweat, beauty marks, and the subtle contrasts of tones.   88 Films’ flexes their restoration efforts that extends the color palate to suitable measure and each scene, through its superb editing by chop-socky veteran Peter Cheung, segues into the next without missing a color resolution beat.  The film is also presented in original 1.85:1 widescreen aspect ratio.  There are two ADR mono tracks, Cantonese and English.  Cantonese is preferred with the better mouth-to-sound synchronization, but both deliver a really good decoded mono mix despite the singular direction of all the audio but with post-production sound, that can be manipulated to exact timing with the exact sound to create a better disbursed audio design.  There some crackling and hissing in the dialogue but very low-level interference that doesn’t hinder the prominence and really affect the clarity.  The newly translated UK English subtitles are available from Ken Zhang and synch fine with a steady pace and come without typos.  Encoded special features have a new audio commentary by Hong Kong Cinema experts Frank Djeng and F.J. DeSanto, a second new commentary from another Hong Kong Cinema expert David west, an interview with director Tung Cho “Joe” Cheung and assistant director Benz Kong, alternate English opening and closing credit titles, an image gallery, and the original trailer.  The limited-edition set comes with a rigid slipbox sheathed by an O-Ring slipcover with new artwork by Sean Longmore that plays into Rosa’s bosomy running ga. Inside the slipbox is a 40-page color booklet with stills and a pair of essays from Fraser Elliott and Paul Bramhell, a collectible postcard, and the clear Amaray case with the same primary Langmore art on the sleeve that can be reversed for the original Hong Kong poster art.  The booklet and slipbox have more original art as well that speaks the action and slapstick.  The not rated, region A and B encoded release has a runtime of 97 minutes.

Last Rites: Fun, exciting, and moderately droll, “Rosa” might hit-and-miss on the comedy, but what definitely hits is the martial arts action defined in a harmony of perfect scrappy chorography.

Grab the Limited Edition Blu-ray of “Rosa” from 88 Films!

The Demon Concubine Is After the EVIL Power of Demon Summoning Upon Earth! “Saga of the Phoenix” reviewed! (88 Films / Limited Edition Blu-ray)

Posted by Steven Lewis on

Own “Saga of the Phoenix” on Blu-ray from 88 Films!

For 660 years, Ashura, the Holy Virgin of Hell, has used her powers to resurrect demons from the underworld.  With the help of virtuous fighters Lucky Fruit and Peacock from the spirit realm, has renounced her temperamental intentions to use her powers for evil ever again and live beside the mortals under the warmth of sunshine.  When she accidently summons demons on Earth, Ashura is brought before Master Jiku and the Divine Nun to access the damage and reign judgement.  They sentence her to live in cell of the relaxed Buddha for all of eternity, but she persuades them one chance to live amongst the humans for seven days, just enough time to live under and enjoy the only thing she wants, the sun.  The Demon Concubine has a different plan for Ashura.  Seeking her demon resurrection powers, the Demon Concubine aims kill her but with the help of Lucky Fruit, Peacock, and her new human friends, Ashura will battle against the Demon Concubine and her demonic forces. 

“Saga of the Phoenix” is the Golden Harvest produced, 1989 released sequel following quickly behind the 1988 released “Peacock King.”  Based off the Japanese manga “Peacock King” written by Makoto Ogino from 1985 to 1989, the action-fantasy film was codirected by returning “Peacock King” director Ngai Choi Lam (“Riki-Oh: The Story of Ricky,” “The Cat”), aka Lam Nai-Choi, and newcomer to the series Sze-Yu Lau (“Forced Nightmare,” “My Neighbors are Phantoms!”) with “Game of Death” actor Biao Yuen stepping away from writing the follow-up and be more involved on the acting by returning to one of the main roles from “Peacock King.”  The script is from a confluence of Japanese and Hong Kong screenwriters, initially scripted by Japanese manga adaptation to television screen writer Hirohisa Soda and then adapted by Tsui-Wah Wong, You-Ming Leung (“Once Upon a Time in China”), and Sau-Ling Chan, none of whom were involved in “Peacock King.”  Hong Kong’s cult and genre film product Lam Chua (“Erotic Ghost Story, “A Chinese Torture Chamber Story”) serves as producer on the Golden Harvest and Paragon Films Hong Kong-Japanese coproduction. 

Gloria Yip returns as the Holy Virgin of Hell, Ashura.  Having never seen “Peacock King,” I’m not sure what type of temperament Ashura donned in a role where the character seems like one of the main antagonists according to the synopsis, but for “Saga of the Phoenix,” Ashura is joyful, childlike mischievous, and humble and is the center focus between the forces of good versus evil.  Als returning is Biao Yuen, but not in his screenwriter role.  Yuen, known for starring alongside female martial artist and star Cynthia Rothrock in “Righting Wrongs,” reprising Peacock, a fierce spirit realm guardian who befriends Ashura along with fellow guardian Lucky Fruit, played by Hiroshi Abe (“Godzilla 2000”) who replaced Hiroshi Mikami from the first film.  Much of Yuen is taken out of the story while being in frozen captivity by the Demon Concubine, leaving Abe and Yip to better struggle one-on-one connecting in the human world, facing human problem, and accessing the threat from the Demon World.  Yip’s candid antics exact the innocence of a young child like making snarky faces when corrected or obsessing over trivial things like sunshine, and especially when Ashura befriends a small, gremlin-like troll or creature named Tricky Ghost and holding it like a favorite stuffed toy, and this leaves Abe to be the role model, or the parental guardian if you will, stoic in stance and a reasonable thinker for his character.  It all comes off as silly until Ngai Suet and the Demon Concubine enters the frame.  The “The Ghost Ballroom” actress Suet takes on the evilly empowered role armed with seven demon subjects to do her bidding, such as trying to kidnap Ashura, and Suet runs with the role caked in a pale makeup, high pointy eyebrows that open up her eyes, and shoulder-padded dark dress.  Embroiled in the spirit world clash are two mortal siblings in Chin (Loletta Lee, “Mr. Vampire Saga IV”), who saves unintentionally saves Tricky Ghost, and her mad scientist brother Tan (Shek-Yin Lau, “Resort Massacre”) who finds himself in bitter rivalry with Tricky Ghost’s mischief ways spurring some comic relief into the fantastical brew and they represent the workable relationship between man and godlike individuals.  “Zatoichi” series actor Shintarô Katsu is in the role of Master Jiku, “Carmen 1945’s” Yûko Natori is the Divine Nun, and Noriko Arai (“Death Note”), Megumi Sakita (“Bodyguard Kiba”), and Yukari Tachibana (“The Scissors Massacre”) as the three nun warriors to round out the Hong Kong-Japanese cast.

If you’re familiar with director Lam Nai-Choi, then it comes no surprise to you the kind of practical effects juggernaut “Saga of the Phoenix” can become and, in the end, doesn’t disappointment.  Choi often overscales the effort of tangibility, bringing unbelievable imagination and larger than life objects to manifestation without much, if any, assistance from computer generated imagery, and in the late 1980s, that technology wasn’t exactly perfected to what modern cinema sees today with skilled visual artistry and the introduction of artificial intelligence that’s on the verge of possibly shoving itself into the actor pool once the kinks are worked out.  In “Saga of the Phoenix,” the palpable physical presence involved is mostly at the finale third act where good versus evil face off between Ashura, Peacock, and Lucky Fruit and the ravenously aggressive Demon Concubine, the latter transforming like a Power Ranger Megazord into a gray-skeletal winged creature large enough to tower over the heroes and wide enough to swallow them nearly by three times.   Of course, this is not to say there hasn’t been other practical effects along the way which include demons inhabiting dragon statues, high wire acts of characters soaring during fight sequences, and the little mischievous imp, Tricky Monkey, from being a manipulated puppetry that weirdly reminisces Jim Henson’s “Labyrinth.”  The painted optical tricks to render color bolts of energy weaponry are a nice classic touch toward a pop of color as well as creating the inherent superhuman element of the principal players.  For someone going into “Sage of the Phoenix” headfirst without having seen or any knowledge of “Peacock King,” room for the film to standalone is rather thin but not egregiously reliant on the first film.  There’s a bit of recapping at the begging with narrative voiceover and get some clue-ins about the past from the dialogue but there’s still quite a bit unexplained, such as Ashura’s behavior fabled to be a powerful demonic necromancer who has somewhere along the way had a change of heart and we’re not privy to why.  That sense of uncertainly never really goes away through the comedy, action, and laser-firing, high-flying martial arts sinew, that something is innately missing from the story that’s saturated with wuxia themes. 

If looking to increase your bicep’s muscle mass, 88 Film’s limited-edition Blu-ray is weighty with content and it’s only one disc!  The AVC encoded, 1080p high-definition resolution, BD50 is encoded with a cherished updated 2K restored transfer from the original 35mm negative that looks unquestionably majestic on screen.  Vibrant and diffused evenly colors, high decode rate, and flawless textures, there’s nothing to dislike about this release, visually technical.  Deep in the color range and Chi-Kan Kwan’s sundry cinematography that offers vast length shots and a warm neon haze of blue and magenta through tint or gels, with a matted golden peacock rising against the monstrosities of the demon world, “Saga of the Phoenix” resurrects an aesthetic only Lam Nai-Choi could manifest from pure imagination.  The original negative is virtually pristine with no signs of damage or wear to note, nor any compression issues to note.  The uncompressed PCM Cantonese 2.0 mono offers a forward heavy diegetic sound that separate each layer favorably diversified. Clean and clear ADR make for easy discernability, capturing every bit of dialogue despite the post-production mis-synchronous acceptance. Laser action, creature roars, and other detailed measured sounds really give “Sage of the Phoenix” body, depth, and range that makes it an overall A/V highlight amongst its wuxia genre counterparts that tend to omit the smaller particulars of a scene. English subtitles pace just fine and are errorfree in a UK text. Most of the heavy lifting is done by the physical presence of the 88 Films Blu-ray that’s housed in a rigid slipbox and sheathed in a cardboard O-Slip, both containing new arranged illustrated artwork by R.P. “Kung Fu Bob” O’Brien that’s takes the true elements from the film and places them on the cover in a sure-fire canvas of what to expect. The clear Amaray cases also has O’Brien artwork as the primary cover art with the reverse side featuring the original Hong Kong poster art. Along with the O-slipcover, other limited-edition contents include a two-sided collectible art card and a 40-page illustrated book with color pictures and essays from Andrew Heskins (From Panel to Screen) and David West (The Japanese Connection), along with featured Japanese cover art Kujakuoh-Legend of Ashure. If the physical properties were not enough, the encoded content, available on the LE and Standard Edition, will bring this set home as it details with an audio commentary by Hong Kong Cinema Experts Frank Djeng and F.J. DeSanto, alternate footage from the Japanese cut of the film, executive producer Albert Lee discusses the international distribution plan from Golden Harvest Sage of Golden Harvest – The International Connection, an image gallery, and the original trailer. The 88 Films release is unrated, has region A and B playback, and has a runtime of 94 minutes.

Last Rites: Wuxia movies like “Saga of the Phoenix” are no surprise to where John Carpenter found influence for “Big Trouble in Little China” and it’s the director Lam Nai-Choi who didn’t shy away from the difficulties and inauthentic problems of physical effects but the film has its own innate issues with story that downgrade from a saga to just being an epic picture with winged creatures, bright energy blasts, and a lovely Gloria Yip succumbing to age, and status, regression with her Holy Virgin From Hell role.

Own “Saga of the Phoenix” on Blu-ray from 88 Films!

Ai Nu the Most Beautiful Woman to Capture the hearts of both Men and Women’s but EVIL Has Other Plans for Her. “Intimate Confessions of a Chinese Courtesan” and “Lust for Love of a Chinese Courtesan” reviewed! (Imprint Asia / Blu-ray)

Posted by Steven Lewis on

Order the #34 and #35 of a “Chinese Courtesan” from Imprint Asia’s Boxset!

Taken against her will while living off the streets, Ai Nu’s kidnappers take her and other snatched girls to the Four Seasons Brothel where the once homeless young girl is greeted by the elegant Chun-yi, the brothel head mistress whose cold and ruthless, but Chun-yi, despite letting Ai Nu be whip beaten and raped by her prestigious paying clients, falls for Ai Nu’s beauty.  The two women form a close, sexual relationship while Chun-yi continues to sell Ai Nu’s body to the wealthiest bidder.  All the while, Ai Nu plans her revenge, slow and steady to get back to those who exploited her.  That’s the harrowing and melodramatic exploitation premise, streaked with reality-defying Kung-Fu, from a Shaw Brothers production and its reenvisioned remake that diverges itself from the original story with additional elements that influence what type of revenge Ai Nu is plotting and provides alternate emotional context to the principal characters. 

“The Intimate Confessions of a Chinese Courtesan” and “Lust for Love of a Chinese Courtesan” are the 1972 original and the 1984 remake violent martial arts and brothel underbelly love, rape-revenge narratives brought together by Via Vision’s Imprint Asia sublabel.  These films pushed the moral fiber envelope with prostitution decadence, scandalous lesbian themes, and sexual violence displayed on Hong Kong’s cinematic screen.  “Haunted Tales’” Yuen Chor, credited as Chu Yuan, helmed the Kang-Chin Chiu (“Finger of Doom”) script of “The Intimate Confessions of a Chinese Courtesan” with Chor returning over a decade later to sit back in the director’s seal for the remake, “Lust for Love of a Chinese Courtesan” in which he wrote the script that keeps most of the core similarities that mildly varies yet significantly differs the emotive motivations that affect the finale and character outcomes.  Both films are a production of Shaw Brothers with Runme Shaw producing “Intimate Confessions” and Mona Fong, wife of Runme’s brother Run Run Shaw, produced the “Lust for Love” sequel of the “Chinese Courtesan.” 

Power, under an affluential and admired ruling thumb backed by the wielding of Kung-fu arrogance, is what Chun-yi of “Intimate Confessions” embodied and, eventually, is what blinded her to her undoing.  In her debut role, Betty Pei Ti creates an unforgettable impression that cements Chun-yi as a fierce and fixated force being a corruptor of young women and a criminal kingpin with her deadly mitts in just about every provincial authority and lawmaking body.  The “Police Woman” and “Succubare” actress seizes one-half control of the story with her beauty, acting command, and dynamic and complicated relationship with on screen actress Lily Ho as Ai Nu, a homeless young woman with equally fierce fight in her but not backed by any kind of authority or station.  Ho, a veteran actress with stardom success as the titular character from Chih-Hung Kuei and Akinori Matsuo’s female fatale picture “The Lady Professional” the year prior, brings a vulnerable ferocity to Ai Nu.  Like a scared cat back into a corner, Lily Ho claws the character through a no-win-scenario of survival in a tough role that involves multiple men thrusting themselves onto her but like a switch, Ho’s able to turn off Ai Nu from being an erratic rebel to save her life to actually saving her life by calmly weaponizing love.  Kuan-Chen Hu portrays the Ai Nu character a little bit different in the 1982 version.  Not as feisty and more brittle, Hu’s uno card reversal on the brothel mistress turns into a ménage à trois of greed in it’s underlaying of revenge.  Chun-yi, too, has varying traits to the “Intimate Confessions” counterpart as On-On Yu (“Black Magic with Buddha”) gives the brothel mistress, who goes by Lady Chun, a softer harshness when it comes to delicate and delegating dastardly business and personal affairs.  Lady Chun also doesn’t have a martial arts bone in her body unlike Betty Pei Ti’s fighters-of-death Chun-yi who is a more of a typical well-rounded, boss-level antagonist, but what Lady Chun does come with more is contextual backstory, a woman who rose from power but sees much of herself in Ai Nu and makes promises of reciprocal care with fellow orphan and childhood friend, and skillful hired sword assassin, Hsiao Yeh (Kuo-Chu Chang, “Killer Rose”).  On-On Yu’s version can be cruel but be cruel while exacting a tender heart to her fixation on Ai Nu, adding a deeper and different complexion to what we’ve seen Chor produce before more than decade before.  The cast of each film round out with kidnapping scoundrels, crooked officials, and one lone decent constable within a supporting cast that includes Yueh Hua, Lin Tung, Wen-Chung Ku, Fan Mei-Sheng, Chung-Shan Wan, Shen Chan, Alex Man, Miao Ching, and Kuo Hua Chang.

Watching the two films back-to-back can throw one for a loop as the remake is not a carbon copy of the original, but there is a lingering familiarity that can’t be shook as it hooks itself to “Intimate Confessions’” key plot and forcibly exclaims its remake existence.  Like many things that have a sense of duality, there are also stark and contrasting differences between them.  If personally favoring sadist measures, rougher sexual confiscating, and a confident villainous vixen, the original “Intimate Confessions” will be more to your like.  If personally favoring a slow-and-steady wins the race melodrama, brewed and stewed in romance and storytelling, with more wuxia fighting and swordplay, the “Lust for Love” checks the boxes.  Compositionally, Chor’s vivid backlighting through a hazer fog with different spectrum colors is evident in both films but “Intimate Confessions” has profound designed objects and background combinations that work with the choreography that tells the mood of the story:  the windy and hazy night of Ai Nu and the good natured constables first meet that tells of a foreboding fate, the the bright and joyous revelry of exciting patrons of on the verge of copulating with exploited, kidnapped young women, or the darker streaked toned of betrayal and death in the finale showdown between principal players.  “Lust for Love” also has a tone about it that’s more in tune with the melodrama with expensive looking sets accompanied by a delicate palette of gold, white, and softer reds and yellows.  Plenty of third act loving making from the love triangle showcase told through a sequence of surrealism and teeing up fantasy desires heightened by the glisten outdoor tub water sloshing side-to-side in their passion, on the dewy moss the half-naked roll in, and in the gold rimmed adorned bedrooms where lesbianic lovers flirt.  Chor first ventures the rough rape-revenge thriller only to chuck the indelicacies of the original film and replace with swirling succulence of sex and self-indulgence, a contrasting brilliance formed and reshaped only a dozen years apart.

Imprint Asia knows all about courtesans, or at least about the Yuen Chor courtesans, in “Intimate Confessions of a Chinese Courtesan” and “Lust for Love of a Chinese Courtesan” with a new 2-disc Blu-ray boxset from Australia.  The 1080p high-definition transfers are pulled from the original 35mm negatives and are AVC encoded onto a BD50s and presented in their original aspect rations of 2.40:1 (“Intimate Confessions”) and 2.35:1 (“Lust for Love”), compressed by spherical anamorphic, widescreen lens with the noticeable curvature in the image.  Both presentations offer an ideal image experience with neither damage showing signs of damage or age, palpable textiles of the silk-spun and cotton blend garbs that sheen as expected and absorb a gratifying amount of reflected light within its respective fabric.  Grain appears light yet organic with skin tones and textures with an organic display, unlike in the Shaw-Shock Volume 2 set where skin coloring appeared orange in quite a few scenes.  The spherical lends offers depth despite its slightly warped edging as if looking in a corner convex mirror.  The audio formats include a Mandarin LPCM 2.0 Mono mix with burned-in English subtitles.  There’s also a Cantonese language option of the same spec but the English subtitles are optional.  Subtitles synchronization is on point with the ADR track that’s retains a clear and discernable dialogue albeit the gurgling quality of recording interference present through. The over exaggerated transcript on top of its equal over exaggerated performances, especially with the googly-eyed and giddy older village officials looking to score handsomely with the courtesans, is present in every inch of a less-than-seductive prostitution rendezvous.  Soundtracks boast a melodramatic and action pack score with an extremely westernized design only fiddling slightly with traditional Chinese melodies and with Fu-Liang Chou adding some harsh guitar during the spicier segments of Ai Nu’s lesbian grooming.  Chin-Young Shing and Chen-Hou Su provide a more classic and harmonically sound for “Lust for Love” to exact more passion and heart and less depravity.  Special features or “Intimate Confessions” include a new audio commentary by author Stefan Hammond and Asian film expert Arne Venema, a new informational and highlight discussion from film historian Paul Fonoroff, an archived featurette directed by Frederic Ambroisine Intimate Confessions of 3 Shaw Girls takes the female perspective and review from journalistic critics and actresses including one actress for the films, an archived interview featurette with critic and scholar Dr. Sze Man Hung, critic Kwan King-Chung, and filmmaker Clarence Fok, and rounds out with the original theatrical trailer and DVD trailer.  “Lust for Love,” in comparison, is more barebones in bonus content with an audio commentary by film historian Samm Deighan and the DVD trailer.  The physical presentation is similar to Shaw-Shock Volume 2 but just a slightly be slimmer with a jagged tooth topped, rigid slip box with a line split down the middle of the front cover depicting illustrations of characters for each film in either a contrasting blue or pink background.  The backside has a compilation of melded together pictures from both films.  Inside, two clear case Amaray, complete with their own original one sheet as cover arts with a reverse side having pulled a scene from their respective film, sit snug inside the slip box.  The boxset has a total run of 3 hours and 6 minutes, is not rated, and is region free.

Last Rites: Yuen Chor’s dichotomy of the two films is an odd and rare accomplishment of the filmmaker’s re-envisioning of his own work but “Intimate Confessions of a Chinese Courtesan” and “Lust for Love of a Chinese Courtesan” have idiosyncratic merit despite the same underlining premise and now it’s showcased in a brilliant boxset from Imprint Asia for you to decide Ai Nu’s revenge and motivations in the fray of brothel captivity.

Order the #34 and #35 of a “Chinese Courtesan” from Imprint Asia’s Boxset!

You, Me, and EVIL Makes Three on “The Island” reviewed! (Eureka Entertainment / Special Edition Blu-ray)

Posted by Steven Lewis on

“The Island” from Eureka Entertainment and MVD Visual! Order Here!

Geography teacher Mr. Cheung faith in his student’s studies lacks encourage and their grades likely won’t improve.  He decides to take his class on a field trip to an isolated island he once visited more than a decade ago as a young man.  With the intended purpose of relaxation, Mr. Cheung refuses his students of mentioning any schoolwork and studies to try and enjoy the coasting waters and the native nature the island has to offer.  However, there’s more than just animals and plants inhabiting the island as a family of three eccentric brothers welcome them with strange behavior and creepy vibes.  When the younger brother selects one of the student girls as his bride to carrier on their lineage, the once ideal getaway traps Mr. Cheung and his students without a way of escaping the irrational whims and delusions of the three brothers.  With a retrieval boat still a day out, the cornered teacher must keep his party alive at all costs. 

Considered Hong Kong’s answer or version of the backwoods pursuers of cutoff society people, 1985’s “The Island” secludes normal kids and their acquiescent teacher on an island where inbreeding has corrupted the copies of three brothers who’ve recently interred their adamant mother to rest and who’ve been searching for mainland women suitable to be the unsterile youngest’s wife.  Leung Po-Chi, or Po-Chih Leong, director behind “He Lives By Night” and “Hong Kong 1941,” produces a Jekyll-and-Hyde contrasting tale that’s sad and bleak to the core with a script not pinpointed to one particular writer but rather to a creative team within the production company D & B Films, aimed to capitalize on the western grim nature of the deranged and callous upon the unsuspecting and innocent seen in such exploitation and other B-pictures as Hong Kong shifts from the longstanding yet now waning Kung-Fu pictures.  Dickson Poon, Sammo Hung Kam-Bo, and John Sham, the founders of D & B Films, produce the film. 

John Sham may not be the ideal looking or sounding hero with a receiving hairline close to Three Stooges’ Larry Fine, thick, round spectacles, and about as average build of a middle-aged man as they come, but for “The Island” the ‘Yes! Madam” actor and D & B Films’s cofounder is suitable and ideal to be the pliantly, run-of-the-mill geography instructor looking to leave the woes of education behind him for a chance to revisit a place from his youth.  Unfortunately, Sham’s inadvertently the head of the snake as everyone remembers the exposed poisonous fangs threateningly elongated from with out the jowls underneath the reptilian beady and glowing eyes.  No one really remembers the slithering body unless there’s a warning rattle connected at the end.  That’s how the rest of the student body reproduces in trying to portray characters to care about but not really achieving the level of sympathy needed to rise about that film of understanding.  One of the more prominent kids is Phyllis, labeled the chunkier one by youngest aggressive, the snotty-simpleton Sam Fat (Billy Sau Yat Ching, “Scared Stiff”) and she’s targeted for Sam Fat’s procreation affections.  Played by Hoi-Lun Au, Phyllis has a working but tiffed relationship with Ronald (Ronald Young, “Sex and Zen III”) and see the untimely death of Ronald sends Phyllis into seeing red, being a formidable survival combatant against the remaining Fat brothers Tai (Lung Chan, “Encounter of the Spooky Kind”) and Yee (Jing Chen, “Riki-Oh:  The Story of Ricky”).  Billy Sau Yat Ching, Lung Chan, and Jing Chen are distinctly diverse to the best possible way, and each deliver their own dish of crazy that gives “The Island” an inescapable locked inside a padded cell substructure all too familiar on its base componentry but alien enough to master a new diverging kind of terror.  Che Ching-Yuen, Chan Lap-Ban (“Hex After Hex”), Kitty Ngan Bo-Yan, Lisa Yeun Lai-Seung, and Timothy Zao (“Diary of the Serial Killer”) costar in the relatively fresh faced and unknown at the time casted film. 

Leung Po-Chi wets our whistle with an opening of an intense forced marriage ceremony involving shuddering sexual exploitation and personal space invasive mistreatment of a mainland young woman, a swimmer who swam her way into trouble with the island’s inhabitants – an elderly mother and her three disturbed sons with the goal of using her for breeding a new bloodline.  This ultimately sets up the tone for a bleaker story that tells of nihilist cruelty with a thematic division between the urban educated and the unsophisticated rural folk, in this case the rural Bumpkins are isolated island inhabitants, but then Leung switches gears with a lighthearted introduction of frolic scurrying teacher and his students as they spread amongst the island’s sandy beaches wearing brilliantly colored skin tight swimsuits and bask in the island’s natural beauty with a couple of them going tangent into their own personal secondary storylines.   Those subplots never vine out and upward to flower fully but there’s enough stem and leafing groundwork between the good old gay times and a few individual internal affairs to setup sympathy for at least a select few as the relationship between visitors and residents quickly sours with Sam-Fat’s eyes growing bigger and bigger and his drool becoming slobbery and slobbery for Phyllis.  There’s not a ton of autonomy for the brothers who do their mother’s bidding long after she expires, committing themselves to the original plan of marrying off Sam-Fat in a show of take and force that robs Mr. Chueng’s dual purpose plan of a good time of fun and nostalgia.  Leung acutely abrupt faces again, back to the cruel inklings from the beginning, that displays unsettling camera shots, dark and low-warmth lighting, and a ferocity that’s always been with the brothers now more evident and growing inside the remaining survives who must fight for each other as well as themselves.  Leung’s style feels very much like a blend between the quick editing and fast action of a martial arts production but has the lighting and chaos-laden horror of an Italian video nasty that does see and lingers onto blood spilled. 

“The Island’s” a terror-riddled getaway that has arrived onto a new Blu-ray from UK label Eureka Entertainment routed through North American distributor MVD Visual.  For the first time on the format outside of Asia and as part of the company’s Masters of Cinema series (#324), Eureka’s Special Edition release is AVC encoded, 1080p high-definition resolution, BD50 and presented in the original widescreen aspect ratio 1.85:1.  With a brand new 2K restoration scan, “The Island” has impeccable quality measure that emerges the most minute details in every frame.  Skin tones have inarguable organic quality and a true-to-form reactionary sweat-gleam look induced when the chase is on.  The textures pop through in garb, foliage, and in dilapidated structure that gives certain discernibility and depth of object.  The original print has virtually no wear or tear as well as any aging problems, appearing to be a fresh off the reel transfer with natural appeasing grain.  The original Cantonese mono track is the only track available and is really the only mix we could expect and receive without a remastering, but, in all fairness, the mono works well enough to satisfy dialogue, ambient, and soundtrack integrity in its limited fidelity box  Dialogue is clean and clear on the encoding with no damage or other verbal obstructions but the modulation favors the antiquate characteristics of the era and the paralleling ADR offers little synchronous value, both to not fault of Eureka.  The optional, newly translated English subtitles by Ken Zhang pace well and are in flawless transcription.  The special edition is encoded with a new commentary with East Asian film expert Frank Djeng, a second new commentary by genre connoisseurs Mike Leeder and Arne Venema, a 2023 interview with the director Po-Chih Leong Surviving the Shoot, East Asian film expert Tony Rayns provides an appreciation video essay Tony Rayns on “The Island,” and the film’s trailer.  The limited-edition set comes with a red and yellow pastel colored O-card slipcover with new beaitfully illustrated artwork by horror graphic artist Ilan Sheady, whose supplied extreme and gory “Terrifier” franchise artwork to European media books, and delivers “The Island” a warm glaze of trouble-in-paradise, capturing the essence of what to expect from the story.  Original poster art graces the clear Amaray façade with a sepia image of John Sham from the opening scenes on the reverse side.  The limited set also includes a 19-page color booklet containing photos of “The Island” as well as other Leong productions, cast and crew credits, To Genre and Back:  The Cinema of Po-Chih Leong program notes by Roger Garcia for a strand celebrating Po-Chih Leong at the 2023 Far East Film Festival, an interview with the director conducted by Roger Garcia All Within the Same Film:  An Interview with Po-Chih Leong, and bring up the booklet’s rear are viewing notes and release credits.  The not rated feature has a runtime of 93 minutes and is region A/B locked for playback.

Last Rites: Director Po-Chih Leong’s trip to “The Island” is beyond bleak in social commentary and in of dire situation of nothing but pure innocence being destroyed by those left forgotten on the outskirts of mainlanders and of sanity. Eureka Entertainment’s Blu-ray honors “The Island” with praise upon praise for its slick high-definition picture, solid extras, and beautifully designed O-slipcase and design.

“The Island” from Eureka Entertainment and MVD Visual! Order Here!

An EVIL Alien Blob Storms Earth in Search for Space Feline! “The Cat” reviewed! (88 Films / Limited Edition Blu-ray)

Posted by Steven Lewis on

If you missed the Blu-ray, “The Cat” Standard Edition is Available!

Storytelling author Wisely recounts one of his more fantastical pieces originating from more truth than fiction.  The writer reminisces investigating the mysterious occurrences surrounding a black cat and a young woman involved in a museum heist of an ancient, unknown artifact and, previously, in a strange encountering with Wisely’s friend Li Tung involving strange hammering noises and strewn about cat guts in an adjacent apartment.  Wisely soon discovers he’s bitten off more than he can chew becoming mixed up in extraterrestrial battle between the gentile but fierce fighting space cat and the young woman from another world versus a vicious and imposing orange alien blob that can inhabit dead humans and slip through tight confining spaces, leaving a burn trail of electrified bodies in its wake.  Wisely and his girlfriend, Pai so, decide to help the girl retrieve a second piece of the artifact that be used as a weapon against the relentless alien aggressor before the cat and girl can return to their home planet.

A strange science fiction thriller hailing from Hong Kong, “The Cat,” or “Lo mau,” is the 1991 filmic adaptation of author Ni Kuang’s “Old Cat” from a part of the Wisely adventure series of novels.  Written by frequent collaborating screenwriters Hing-Ka Chan and Gordon Chan (“Cat and Mouse,” “Behind the Yellow Line”) as well as numerous team-ups of Hing-Ka penning Gordon director helmed works (“Beast Cops,” “Thunderbolt”) and directed by “Riki-Oh:  The Story of Ricky” director Ngai Choi Lam, “The Cat’s” bizarrely unraveled as it is unrivaled but evokes a commingling of Hong Kong mysticism, science fiction, horror, and creature personification that’s hard to find not entertaining in its converging Daoism with creature feature movies!  Golden Harvest and Paragon Films, in association with Japan’s Nippon Television Network as a Hong Kong-Japanese alliance, are the companies behind the picture production with Chan Tung Chow (“Riki-Oh:  The Story of Ricky”) and Seiji Okuda (“Pulse”) as producers.

Hong Kong beauty Gloria Yip (“Riki-Oh:  The Story of Ricky,” “The Blue Jean Monster”) took Hong Kong cinema by storm in the early 90s before quietly taking a step back from acting to focus on building a family when newly married in 1995.  Since her divorce, Yip has been active in the last decade and half but to experience her best, early work, “The Cat” is a good start to behold her natural girl-next-door charisma and attractive attributes as an alien inside a human body.  Where she obtains this human form is unknown and her species social status, her name or how she became trapped on Earth is also vague, but Yip’s character can float waltz and is seemingly the caretaker of the Cat, who is a general of sorts in the alien race.  Her alien sidekick, Errol (Siu-Ming Lau, “Shaolin vs Evil Dead:  Ultimate Power,” “A Chinese Ghost Story”), too has an equivocal backstory as they search for weaponry relics and evade the caustic and electrically charged blob monster that threatens their world.  The story falls in more in tune with the three friends buried by the extraterrestrial struggle for survival and dominance with “A Chinse Ghost Story II and III’s” Waise Lee as principal lead character Wisely, a humble story writer living off the riches of girlfriend Pai So (Christine Ng, “Crime Story”), at least based on their dialogue of her owning a big house, playing tennis, and providing.  It’s an oddly laid out relationship that shows no quarrel or being tested when up against alien beings.  Li Tung (Lawrence Lau, “3-D Sex and Zen:  Extreme Ecstasy”) is Wisely’s first friend to encounter the girl and cat as noisy above neighbors but it’s their cop friend, Wang Chieh-Mei (Philip Kwok, “Hard Boiled”) who takes the unfortunate brunt being inhabited by the alien blob and becoming a Rambo-arsenal assassin.  The last piece to “The Cat’s” cast is actually the “Old Cat” author Ni Kuang having a cameo appearance as a warrior dog handler, Processor Yu.

Did I mention already that “The Cat” is beyond bizarre?  The campy story suffers from connective tissue deficiency syndrome, meaning there’s not enough exposition or explanation in the subdued, mild-manner interactions to really bring together and segue the really cool action and creature sequences that involve, but not limited to, pyrotechnics, forced perception effects, stop-motion, blood squibs, prosthetics and makeup, and high-flying wire acts involving not only people but cats and dogs!  The cat versus dog fight is a rough-and-tumble showstopper.  The special effects and choreographic teams of Hong Kong’s special makeup effects artist Chi-Wai Cheung (“Riki-Oh:  The Story of Ricky”) and stunt coordinator Philip Kwok taking their cogs and working into the grand effects design along with Japan’s f/x crew from visual effects artist Takashi Kawabata (“Dark Water”) and special effects Shinji Higuchi (“Gamera, the Guardian of the Universe”) is a masterful amalgamation of two cultures and two styles into one, blending high-flying acrobatics with the strange, bold stop-motion and visual effects that incorporate puppets and molds is optical buffet aimed stimulate and confound.  Nearly experimental in its narrative and effects while bordering being derivative, such as from the 1988 “The Blob” remake, “The Cat’ prowls, growls, and meows as a welcoming hot mess of feline phantasmagoria. 

On a new limited-edition Blu-ray set with exclusive, new artwork by graphic artist Sean Langmore, “The Cat” purrs with a fully-loaded, out of this world high definition release from UK label 88 Films and distributed by MVDVisual in the North American market.  A new 2K restoration of the original 35mm negative is encoded on a AVC encoded BD50 with a 1080p resolution in an aspect ratio of 1.85:1 widescreen.  Image presentation has the stellar glow of regular Hong Kong film stock, a stock that doesn’t dilute the defining particulars but only softens them slight.  The original negative has withstood the test of time and any improper handling providing the restoration effort with a focus-driven goal of grading and detail. The other side of that coin is that all the rubbery and irregular textures are now more in the spotlight instead of being lost in the lower resolution and more opaque video qualities.  Brilliant gel lighting and a comprehensive range of primary reds and blues coupled with an electric orange and blood red of the antagonistic monster seduces contrastingly inside a dark atmosphere with a story mostly told during the nighttime hours.  Remastered with a Cantonese DTS-HD mono track, the compositional track is about as good as it’s going to get but that’s not saying the audio is bad at all.  Clean and clear in ADR dialogue and distinct in the ambience and action, “The Cat’s” remastering is mighty without being punchy with broad-range, consistent audio that doesn’t have any holes poked into it and has an epic, original score by Phillip Chan (“Her Vengeance”).  Newly translated English subtitles are burned onto the only video file feature.  The encoded special features include an audio commentary by Asian film expert Frank Djeng of the NY Asian Film Festivial, a new interview with writer Gordon Chan in Cantonese with an English introduction, the Japanese cut of the film in standard definition, an image gallery, and theatrical trailer.  All of the encoded features will be available on the limited-edition and standard release sets.  Langmore’s artwork graces the LE O-ring slipcover and rigid slipbox with a crazy illustrative arrangement that details how bonkers “The Cat” gets.  Inside the slipbox, a full-bodied colored and detailed booklet with more original Langmore artwork, one sheets, stills, and other contents that include cast and crew acknowledgements, a Paul Bramhall retrospective essay on director Ngai Choi Lam That Cat is Dangerous, a second essay in regard to Nai-Choi’s niche cinematic credits by Matthew Edwards entitled Body Horror, and a special thanks roundup and more acknowledgements in the making of the Blu-ray release.  There’s also a collectible art card stuffed in between the clear Amaray case and the booklet.  The reversible cover art’s secondary slip-shell is of an original poster art, a good alternative to an already overused Langmore illustration that’s on the O-Ring and slipbox.  While not a numbered limited-edition release, news of the set already being or nearly sold out at most retailers is circulating, but there will be a standard edition slated for release late November ICYMI!  The not rated release has a 89-minute runtime and is encoded region A and B for playback.

Last Rites: Ngai Choi Lam’s science fiction, body horror, and creature feature inundated “The Cat” has all the weirdness and practical prosthetics, including deeply bizarre force perception visuals, that’s beyond our galaxy and capacity for understanding, landing with great precision onto a well-deserved, highly anticipated, and must own 88 Films’ limited-edition boxset!

If you missed the Blu-ray, “The Cat” Standard Edition is Available!