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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Heart and Body Reunited Forges Immortal EVIL! “Witchtrap” reviewed! (MVD Visual / Blu-ray)

Get Caught in the “Witchtrap” on Blu-ray!

A motley crew of parapsychologists and private security are hired to investigate the haunted house of powerful warlock and accused serial killer Avery Lauter.  Before the graveyard side home can be turned into a themed Bed & Breakfast by Lauter’s inheriting next of kin, the team is brought in to eradicate the infamous house of any kind of malevolent spirits after the mysterious and gruesome death of a magician who agreed to stay at the house as a test run of the level of malignance.  When the investigators make contact with a confident and evil Lauter, the warlock tricks them by using the team’s physical medium to murder a far-too-inquisitive investigator one-by-one in order to finish a satanic ritual he started before his death that will make him immortal.  It’s up to non-believer, and wise-cracking, private detective Tony Vincente to make sense of the murders and put an end of Lauter’s reign of terror from beyond the grave before it’s too late.

A necromantically-charged slaughterhouse of a film, “Witchtrap” is the 1989 phantasmal thriller of the omnipresent, omni-powerful dead versus a group of clueless living always one-step behind in attempting to make sense of everything.  Also known as “The Haunted” or “The Presence,” the Kevin S. Tenney written-and-directed film succeeds the director’s cult classic “Night of the Demons” and Tenney’s debut film “Witchboard,” which is not a sequel to “Witchtrap” despite a similar title and the hiring of some of the same actors.  Shot in Fairfield, California on a 400K budget, the independence production showcases topnotch gore and pyro effects from makeup artist Judy Yonemoto (“Dance or Die,” “The Newlydeads”) and special effects supervisor Tassilo Baur (“House,” “DeepStar Six”) and is produced by Tenney alongside Daniel Duncan under Mentone Pictures; Duncan also produced Tenney’s “Brain Dead” later in the filmmaker’s career.  Cinema Plus, represented by executive producer Ryan Carroll, serves as the presenting company.

Tenney has been noted saying “Witchtrap” was a gift for the actors who have stuck with him over the years, playing pivotal parts in his student films that pole-vaulted his career into being a cult horror director.  “Witchtrap’s” leading man, James W. Quinn, has worked with Tenny since grade school and was cast in a principal role in “Witchboard” as well as in a minor role in “Night of the Demons.”  Quinn’s Tony Vincente is by far the best dialogue deliverer of the principal ensemble with a smartass ex-cop script that highlights Quinn to be the good guy but while being a complete jerk.  The rest of the cast is painfully flat, with little-to-no inflections, and a severe lack of dynamism or gesticulation that, despite how interesting their character backgrounds are, are just too dull with monotone script-reading.  “Night Visitor’s” Kathleen Bailey is likely the second best to liven up her character of Whitney O’Shea, the religious and reluctant physical medium with shark thrashing spams every time Avery Lauter channels her for to violently wipe out a parapsychologist team member, spearheaded by an eager ghost trapper Dr. Agnes Goldberg (Judy Tatum, “Witchboard”) and her mental medium husband Felix (Rob Zapple), and the accompanying private security forces that also include Vincente’s partner Levi Jackson (Clyde Talley II) and boss man Murphy (Jack W. Thompson).  Dangerous ambitions and irrational greed stir the pot between each of these groupings that side with personal stake over the safety of their existence that make for better character building underneath the rickety performance framing.  And, of course, we can’t neglect mentioning Linnea Quigley bringing up the rear with her rear as the bleached blonde, cropped seater topped A/V technician that can capture ghosts with her ectoplasm detecting gear.  Quigley, and also Judy Tatum, provide a bit of T&A, especially Quigley with an eye-popping full frontal in the prime of her career.  The remaining cast includes Hal Havins (“Sorority Babes in the Slimeball Bowl-O-Rama”) as the creepy groundskeeper and J.P. Luebsen (“Witchboard”) as the cap-wearing and wild-eyed bearded warlock Avery Lauter. 

Oddly enough, what makes “Witchrap” entertainingly great, is Tenney’s attractive and amusing dialogue.  Between the quips, banters, diatribes, and the depth conversations, Tenney formulates a dialogue that can match or even surpass the outstanding special effects that course through the narrative.  Without Vincente’s brutal mockery of the entire paranormal research and investigation scheme as well as an unmercifully, nonstop degrading position toward his contentious boss, left with only the tedious prosaic to hear, “Witchtrap” would be one of those great-gore, dull-dialogue features that force your hand to fast-forward to the good parts in order to not pass out asleep from the in between drag.  Instead, “Witchtrap” is 80’s cult-horror treasure, comfortably embedded somewhere between the cinematic Earth’s lithosphere and asthenosphere layers just waiting for someone to unearth and dust off its sheening crimson colored cabochon.  Definitely not elevated horror that makes one think about the auteur intended message, the feature remains true to Tenney’s previous like-mad credits with an outlandish and mortally fair game theurgy that’s surface-level eye candy and audibly dulcet, despite the audio recording snafu that sent the entire dialogue track to the post-production recording studio.  Though producers and marketing attempted to cash-in on “Witchboard’s” moderate success with a similar, familiar title, “The Haunted” and “The Presence” are no more than generic designation fodder that lacked tremendous flavor; “Witchtrap’s” a kitschy and blunt title that works and literally estimates what audiences should and will expect although Avery Lauter is a Warlock and not necessarily a witch per se. 

A part of the Eric Wilkinson’s throwback video club and Rewind Collection series from MVD Visual, “Witchtrap” arrives a fully restored, high-definition Blu-ray, presented on an AVE encoded, 1080p, BD50 and in a widescreen 1.85:1 aspect ratio.  This transfer essentially mirrors the Vinegar Syndrome release a few years back that had reinstated many of the MPAA cuts the general public hasn’t laid eyes for nearly 30 years until 2016.  Picture quality retains a fresh, renewed look without compromising the natural characteristics, such as grain, of the 35 mm celluloid.  There are sporadic scenes that slip due to generational loss but, for the most part, a solid 2K scan restoration of the interpositive. The English LPCM 2.0 mono track is post-production concomitant due to an inexperienced sound mixer that resulted overbearing hum throughout the dialogue. ADR was introduced in post subsequently diminishing depth and creating an artificial sounding mix with a silver lining being a near perfect match for actor emotionality, inflections, and synchronization. Optional English subtitles are available. Bonus material includes a commentary track with director Kevin Tenney, producer Dan Duncan, Cinematographer Tom Jewett, and actor Hal Havins. Also included are interviews with Kevin Tenney, Linnea Quigley, Tom Jewett, and Tassilo Baur who more-or-less say a lot of the same retrospective accounts regarding “Witchtrap’s” sound issues, pranks on Kevin Tenny, cheap film hints outside of L.A., and how constrained the budget was. This release also comes with the edited VHS version at 92-minutes, same as the Blu-ray, a photo gallery, and the original trailer. Physical features include a sweet throwback cardboard O-Slipcover of the original poster compressed inside a 1-inch, matte red border that’s back and front. The O-slip covers a clear Blu-ray case that holds a reversible Rewind Collection cover art that’s roughly the same as slipcover poster art with cropped out credits for a vivid red filled, white-lined title. On the other side of the cover is alternative European cover art of a puffy white cloud merged with a demonic face hovering over a white picket fenced house, reminiscent of the MGM “Return of the Living Dead” or the original Columbia “Fright Night” DVD covers. Inside the case is a folded mini-poster of the factory-wrapped front cover. MVD’s release is rated R and comes region free. “Witchtrap” epitomizes restless ghost syndrome with a head coup de grace motif and is a seance that conjures potent witty dialogue to hoist Kevin Tenney’s third feature up to another plane of existence.

Get Caught in the “Witchtrap” on Blu-ray!

That Chill from Within is the EVIL that Plagues the Mind. “Bone Cold” reviewed! (Well Go USA Entertainment / Blu-ray)

“Bone Cold” is available on Blu-ray Home Video at Amazon.com!

After a failed mission attempt by their counterparts, a pair of highly trained U.S. Black Op solders are called back from a leave, less than 24-hours on a previous mission, to drop into a snow-covered forest in Northern Ukraine.  The mission is to eliminate a Russian separatist amassing a paramilitary for insurgency strikes.  The skilled sniper and his longtime spotter assassinate the wrong target on bad intel and find themselves running for their lives when separatist soldiers begin tracking them.  Unable to evac until the mission is a success and they lose their hostile pursuers, the soldiers are hard-pressed by their handler to continue to locate and eliminate the intended target, but something else is following them.  A dark figure against the snowy white landscape hunts them.  With no other friendly assets in the area or air support, they must battle to survive the two-fronts alone, relying on their years of trust and training to get them through alive.

“Bone Cold” is the chilling 2022 psychological thriller from first time feature length film director Billy Hanson.  The Main-born, Florida State Film School alum also pens the story that tackles traumatic stress and delusions brought upon military war and operation fatigue mixed with suspenseful arms engagement, displaying phenomenal sniper back-and-forth volleys, and mixes in a sinister and ominous presence in tow.  Shot in the dual locations of Los Angeles, California, for the not-so-frigid-looking scenes, and in the director’s home state in Saco, Maine during the winter months where most of the action takes place, “Bone Cold” plays into that penetrating freeze that sends shivers down your spine as well as getting the blood pumping for the clashes of special and supernatural forces.  Hanson, along with Elise Green, Ness Wilson, Jonathan Stoddard, and music video maker Jaclyn Amor produced the film under Hanson’s own Dirigo Entertainment production company with Mind the Gap Productions and Well Go USA Entertainment handling distribution.

The story opens with a man using a metal detector on a semi-arid land until the strengthening beeps denote his bounty, a cache full of semi-automatic weapons.  Before he can enjoy the cold grip of a powerful rifle in his hand, his temple explodes with a quick blood splatter from the scoped rifle of United States Black Ops solder Jon Bryant at the confirmed behest of his spotter partner, Marco Miller.  The operatives are played by “Away the Dawn’s” Jonathan Stoddard and “Discarnate’s” Matt Munroe respectively who muster and mimic well the jarhead jargon and procedural positioning with their own brand of super soldier camaraderie, building a believable bond based on distinct posturing alone.  Narratively, we’re exclusively in synch with Jon Bryant, the expert sniper whose likely spent more hours killing marks than at home with wife Mel (Jennifer Khoe, “Fear Frequency”) and daughter Wendy (Trinity Jo-Li Bliss, “Avatar:  The Way of Water”) and slowly Jon’s reality begins to fissure under the pile of bodies that he’s claimed over his military career that translates right into the next mission before he can even decompress from the last assignment.  During their clandestine campaign, Jonathan Stoddard can sell stoic reactions with ease unlike the opposite side of the spectrum where crazy isn’t in the actor’s natural repertoire and while the unknown factor nudges a way in between the two soldiers, where their lives depend on the very stability and duty of the other, in what is a fervent wedging that puts them in a tough spot, Hanson throws in an unnecessary monkey wrench that departs from the obvious in a confounding way and trails Stoddard away from his character leading himself out of his own mental maze.  Hanson does attempt to re-ground the solders with combat and the negative affect that life-and-death struggle has on them in a hot zone and at home.  “Bone Cold” rounds out the cast with Elise Greene (“Incantation”), Jeremy Iversen (“Mantus’), and Danielle Poblarp.

Choice domestic locations give “Bone Cold” a broader, international feel, creating a bigger narrative than in actuality, and those illusionary elements provide invaluable production value on a smaller scale production.  Throw in a few Russian speakers and Billy Hanson has transported you into Eastern Europe without having to leave the filmmaker’s backyard.  A decent charge of combat and special forces verbiage tack on a competent conflict between Americans and Russians that’s kept intimate and selective to not overflow beyond the budget’s capacity to be deemed overreaching to a fault.  We’re also treated to a fair amount of fear that’s set isolated in the quiet, snowy woods where tricks played on the eyes are common and every sound resonates from every angle.  The dark figure stalking and glaring from a distance is ever menacingly taut with suspense, especially with the flawless first-time feature editing work by Hanson and co-editor Art O’Leary.  From the distance, the unknown black figure’s piercing eyes and a wide, sharp-toothed grin is undoubtedly creepy obscured behind trees, bushes, and shadows, but up close and well-lit, the creature characteristics are more a cartoon caricature in its rubbery posterior.  The connection between the paranormality of the creature and sanity-breaking guilt trauma is evidently clear as that ugliness and cold-bloodiness is from within clawing to break out, it becomes an object of neglect until it takes a ride home with you to destroy loved ones, physically and emotionally.  Ultimately, Hanson’s able to piece together an allegorical tale in a roundabout charter that encircles a moment of mass belief of what’s really out there stalking them and the unsuspected device feels like a speed bump being hit at 80 MPH so the story goes off the rails a bit to engage tactual fear with viewers that reminisces a “Predator”-esque faceoff that’s quite out of context and not as thrilling.

“Bone Cold” is a low-budget psychological thriller with a large snowbank production value brought to the Blu-ray retail shelves courtesy of Well Go USA Entertainment.  The AVC encoded BD25 is presented in 1080p, high-definition, with a 1.78:1 aspect ratio.  Since much of the duration has a bright, white snow backdrop, compressions issues are limited to only when the sun falls and night engulfs the solders, displaying some high compression low quality issues that blur the delineated trim which is fairly consistent over many Well Go USA releases as I believe their standard single layer format storage is too little for feature plus bonus material.  Shot on a Panasonic EVA 1, the picture is well balanced in contrast as we’re able to see and distinguish the background and foreground images with relative ease despite the blinding white and the lightly opaque blue lens tint provides an extra chill for the wintery setting.  An English DTS-HD 5.1 audio mix offers ample coverage across all tracks, providing an absolute dialogue package and a full-bodied milieu ambience that has capacious range and depth.  Available English subtitles are a menu option. Bonus features include a making of that’s a total package in running down cast and crew interviews discussing precisely and, in every detail, how “Bone Cold” came to fruition, a montage blooper reel, and the original trailer. Physical aspects of the release include a rigid cardboard o-slipcover with embossed title and back cover stills. Inside the slipcover is your traditional Blu-ray snapper case with latch opening with a cover art the same as the slipcover, that of the dark figure standing in silhouette in the background with a foreground, hunkered over, facing it with a rifle, soldier in the snow. Unimpressive is the disc art of a hazy snow covered Ukranian forest. “Bone Cold” has a 109-minute runtime, comes not rated, and is region A locked. “Bone Cold” has a few choice on ice moments that make the third act inconclusive as the story struggles to decide what it wants to be but Billy Hanson’s grasp on the psychological grip is crafted with an arresting visual paradigm on a paranormal level to convey the life-and-death struggles of combat fatigue and psychosomatics.

“Bone Cold” is available on Blu-ray Home Video at Amazon.com!

Cicadas’ EVIL Song Will Test Your Sanity! “The Sound of Summer” reviewed! (Unearthed Films / Blu-ray)

If You Can’t Take The Heat, Watch “The Sound of Summer” instead!  

A coffee shop employee is over the Summer’s relentless heat.  She’s also over Summer’s Cicada call of vibrational chorusing when the winged insects glide their tymbals across their abdomens to attract the season’s female sex.  In working one shift, a strange local man patrons her shop, bringing in his Cicada nets and enclosures, feeding his snared insects right in the middle of his hot coffee break.  Revolted by who she dubs The Cicada Man, and by cicadas themselves, insidious nightmare dreams and an intense itching sensation drives the girl into scratching and terrified fit.  The obsession to scratch the itch wears out spots on her skin to the point of creating open wounds to excavate the bugs she believes have burrowed their way into her body because a dream of The Cicada Man planting them inside her.  Reality begins to crumble  and delusions set in as her and The Cicada man have unfinished business that begin a downward spiral of Summertime insanity. 

The Summer season isn’t for everybody.  The oppressive heat, the swarming insects, the uncomfortable stickiness of sweat-inducing humidity, and the very essence of an overwhelming nature that can be engulfing toward a devolved transfiguration.  That’s the premise behind the 2022 Japanese extreme shock and gore horror “The Sound of Summer,” the first feature length film by a United Kingdom-born writer-director known only as Guy (aka Guy Fragments) who has lived and worked in Japanese since 2016.  Influenced prolifically by Japanese underground filmmaker Shozin Fukui (“Rubber’s Love,” “964 Pinocchio”), Guy follows Fukui’s extreme experimental horror with his own tastes and experiences built into the framework of what becomes an antithetical liking to the widely popular season that usually provides outdoor fun and sun.  In “The Sound of Summer,” the sun is the enemy and the cicadas are the siren song humming foot soldiers that infest the mind.  The body horror is a production of the director’s indie production company Sculpting Fragments, the same company used to produce the Guy’s shorts, “The Rope Maiden” and “Difficulty Breathing.”

“The Sound of Summer” runs a cast of nameless characters and at the center of the cicada madness, we’re individually tailgating one of the two women who work at the coffee shop.   Kaori Hoshino enacts the young woman’s displeasure for the Summer with constant vocal grouchiness of the heat and her visible disgust and detest of the surrounding cacophonous cicada chirping.  Hoshino works lathering loathsome into the character’s routine as a single working woman, living alone, with a daily schedule.  There’s never ostentatious gesticulation that overplays her hot hating hand.  Intermittent with seemingly mundane tasks provides a more down to earth and normal person, juxtaposed greatly with more contrast in the later extremely disturbed version of herself.  Her delusional disorder stalks her in the physical form of The Cicada Man, a rather odd, older man involved in what she considers to be childish bug-catching activities, and his presence, or maybe just the image of him, invades her mental space coinciding with everything else she dislikes about the Summertime.  The Cicada Man becomes the epitome of everything she finds repulsive yet every element of his being and the Summer sink underneath her skin, in a literal figurative combination.  In the metamorphizing macabre role of The Cicada Man is Shinya Hankawa who also has a tangent sub-story of feeding his precious insects, as well as himself, blood from the sickle opened young women he has hidden away in a derelict building.  This expresses The Cicada Man as morosely deranged but the narrative has up until now been latched onto the young woman from the coffee shop, which begs the question, is this how the young woman perceives The Cicada Man, even as far as labeling him with a slasher-esque moniker to further demonize him into being a part of a culmination toward her worst nightmare?  “The Sound of Summer’s” cast comprises of Kiyomi Kametani, Shiori Kawai, Kuromi Kirishima, Keita Kusaka, and Yuina Nagai.

Like renowned painters Edvard Munch or Vincent van Gogh, a madness quality lies within every stroke of Guy’s ‘The Sound of Summer.”  Guy pulls inspiration from his own experiences of a moderately pleasant English Summer being eradicated by the same season in Japan and it’s Hellish temperatures become a reconfiguration of the psyche when the once comfortable becomes oppressed by the uncomfortable surroundings of sensory overload.  A cultural physical representation of the season in Japan is the cicada, like the recognizable and sought after Cherry Blossoms of the insect world.  Guy uses the spellbinding cicada song with a fear-inducing frequency that vessels in psychological harm or delusional parasitosis with a visual goad of an enigmatic old man having them as pets that mixes the brain’s signals into a freefall into madness.  Yet, the audience is never outrightly explained what’s happening to the young coffee shop barista as a limited number of The Cicada Man’s spliced in scenes chauffeur in a more supernatural and macabre side separate from the woman’s narrative preponderance.  Are we supposed to be inside the barista’s disordered brain that’s going mad or is The Cicada Man offshoot sub-narrative an inside look at his bizarre insect consumed little world that slowly seeps under the Barista’s skin?   “The Sound of Summer” might be open for one’s own personal interpretation, but it’s clear in message as an anti-Summer film, an anti-bug film, and an anti-sane film with a prosthetic effects edge and a hyper-sensitive gore impact that’ll leave you scratching the most insignificant itch – just in case.

Ring in the approaching Summer season with “The Sound of Summer” on Blu-ray from extreme horror label Unearthed Films.  The AVC encoded single layer BD25 presents the film in a 1080p, high-definition resolution with a widescreen 1.78:1 aspect ratio.  Image quality is relatively stable throughout with spot areas of compression concern, such as splotching, around the darker, grittier scenes inside The Cicada Man’s rundown squat.  Details maintain their sharpness as we receive some gooey bits and pieces of unidentifiable flesh and muscular tissue.  Plus, the prosthetic applications display a coarse texture comes through the decoding well, despite a jumpy Mbps.  Guy’s approach to the cinematography takes a steady devolutionary downfall from the brightly lit and sterile to the darkly embracing and infested as if the two contrasting elements are linked by the psychological supporting wall between safety and danger, easily to crumble under natural pressures with the simple prod of gentle persuasion.  The Japanese language PCM 2.0 track distributes a fine dual channel mix that favors the sound design with cicada chorusing and the constant scratching and open wound tissue removal churning out an audible force of discord.  Dialogue is the other suitable track that’s remains clear, clean and in the forefront of the action, soundtrack, and robust sound design.  No signs of hissing, popping, or strength with the digital recording.  The optional English subtitles synch well with error free translation.  Extras include a behind-the-scenes that’s more of a blooper reel of the cast and crew making faces and messing around during principal photography, the Tokyo live-stream premiere after screening interview with director Guy and cyberpunk horror director Shozin Fukui, the Japanese premier with director and cast, and the film’s trailer.  Front cover is a grainy look at The Cicada Man in full metamorphic bloom slipped into a traditional Blu-ray snapper case with a disc art pressed with the illustrative, flesh-wounded flesh of the young victim.  The Unearthed Films release is not rated, has gore-friendly pacing at 75 minutes, and is locked with region A coding.  Special effects by “Versus’s” Susumu Nakatani and an original soundtrack by the Singaporean electronic-experimenter, Microchip Terror, “The Sound of Summer” buzzes with body horror boudoir in Guy’s directorial feature length extremity. 

If You Can’t Take The Heat, Watch “The Sound of Summer” instead!  

When EVIL Won’t Let Go to “Those Who Walk Away” reviewed! (VMI Releasing / DVD)

Never Abandon Your Problems.  Face Them!  “Those Who Walk Away” on DVD!

When Max could no longer stomach the sight of his mother falling deeper into severe sickness, he abandons his mother’s side after a year of care.  A year-long hiatus from dating has put a temporary halt on his love life, but as he rejoins the socializing game, he connects with Avery on an online dating app.  Avery appears to be the perfect girl:  smart, witty, and really into him.  The start of their first date is a match made in heaven until the girl too good to be true decides to drive him to a supposed haunted house for uninhibited fun when their original plans fall through.  Inside, a dilapidated abode comes with an appalling story, surrounding a malevolent urban legend spirit known as Rotcreep.  Swallowed by house’s notoriety, Max and Avery grapple with their own personal demons that have come back to haunt them and with no escape, facing the trauma is the only path toward survival.

A lot of films, past and present, are drenched dripping in the trauma theme that the subtopic has become waterlogged in the independent and mainstream scene, but has there ever been a trauma touted full length feature film that was done in one long single take?  That’s the novelty concept to proof of product feature from writer-director Robert Rippberger, a documentary filmmaker who has only recently dipped his toes into fictional storytelling.  After the 2019 unsung release of “Strive,” an urban drama of perseverance starring Danny Glover (“Predator 2”), Rippberger’s latest “Those Who Walk Away” sets two personal distresses into a prevailing evasion of death.   Rippberger’s script, cowritten with Spencer Moleda, materializes one’s own baggage being personified as waking nightmares or a manifestation of shackling malevolence, manacled by past mistakes and centrifugal hurt.  The Chillicothe, Illinois shot picture is a production of Ripberger’s own Los Angeles based SIE Films, Argentic Productions, and is in association with Slated Productions and Sandeep Sekhar Films with Rippberger, Sandeep Skehar, and Argentic’s KT Kent producing. 

At the center of the story are Max, played by “Twilight” franchise’s Booboo Stewart (no relationship to Kristen Stewart), and Avery, played by Scarlett Sperduto (“Float”), as individuals looking for love or connection having met on a dating app.  Necessary lengthy exposition provides the footing for “Those Who Walk Away’s” climatic third act, giving Max and Avery a chance to go to town on their historical credentials during the date as we learn about Max’s ill mother and his sudden departure from her around the clock care before the heartache becomes soul consuming and about Avery’s fight or flight childhood, anecdotal and accounts that are kept closer to her chest,  with her close and adored brother.  The chemistry is palpable between them with nervous conversational exchanges and teasing jocularity that makes their one long scene seem like an actual first date, completely selling the dynamics with the audience who are induced with anxious butterflies and an eagerness to connect, emotionally and sexually, on Max and Avery’s behalf.  The narrative, ultimately, has to change because “Those Who Walk Away” is not a romantic-comedy but rather a dramatic-horror.  Whereas everything seemed to go swimmingly with the two young love birds really getting into the moment, we’re suddenly engaged with a different, if not darker, tone that has come out of the swindling shadows and into the light of a dimly lit, ramshackle haunted house that is the premier first date destination experience, if you’re a sociopathic survivor that is.  “Those Who Walk Away” works with a tight, small cast that finishes off the list with Grant Morningstar, Devin Keaton, Bryson Whereas, Connor McKinley Griffin, and former professional wrestler, veteran stuntman, and veteran actor of such films as “The Mask,” “Barb Wire,” “Hot Wax Zombies on Wheels” with Nils Allen Stewart, aka The Stomper, as the Rotcreep – again, not related to Kristen Stewart, but is father of lead actor Booboo Stewart.

“Those Who Walk Away” has the concentrated acting chops to pull off the two-pronged plot and despite the obscure and incoherencies with the revelation climax, the turn of events still bids a gripping blank check on what to expect next.  Yet, the most interesting portions of the film are not those aspects that do have a degree of excellence for an indie project.  Instead, the single long take from opening-to-ending credits is a mind-blowing feat.  Unless there’s a seamless cut that I’m missing or blind to, “Those Who Walk Away” never edits or cuts away from the action that puts the actors in a position of having to perform to perfection.  Rippberger also doesn’t remain stationary to a single location for the first half of the film, coursing through the populated public park and bustling small town of Chillicothe during Max and Avery’s getting-to-know-you talk-and-walk, and as the story evolves toward more sinister circumstances in a one house setting, Rippberger can’t sit still and uses nearly every square inch of the creepy, boarded up house to his advantage, creating and changing up room interiors that fashion an illusionary creepy funhouse that Max scrambles from room-to-room avoiding Rotcreep and finding a way out of what could be perceived as Hell in a house, a metaphor for Max’s own mother-abandoning torment.  If that isn’t impressive enough, Diego Cordero’s camera handling to make the single take work isn’t bush league cinematography as having the frame trajectory move in tight, confined spaces without a bit of awkwardness, like moving from outside the car to inside the front of the cab then to the back between the driver and passenger seat while keeping characters in frame and keeping the characters acting is a tough, planned shot.  What’s also tough is achieving crisp dialogue in one take and that’s where the film falters a little with the pivotal exposition losing strength and clarity where it’s needed the most, essentially being muddled instead of meticulously articulate if actors are either not vigorously vocal enough, mic placement isn’t exact, or mic picks up other noises that scuttle overtop the dialogue.

Courtesy of VMI Releasing and MVD Visual comes a chilling crucible in “Those Who Walk Away” on DVD.  Presented in 720p on a widescreen 1.78:1 aspect ratio, the film is distributed on a DVD5 with a reasonable compression rate to keep the image sharp without a lot of addition fluff to bog down the overall compacted digital transfer.  Instances of off and on lens focus works against the long take, much like the audio, where timely is key but as far as VMI Releasing’s handling of the storage, the resolution and image quality do the work to represent the best quality possible.  Although the DVD back cover states one audio option – an English Dolby Digital 5.1 – there is a second option with a English Dolby Digital 2.0 Stereo.  Unless you’re setup with a surround sound, the stereo option will have identical dialogue and ambience noise but there is an amplified finish on the soundtrack by video game composer Dmitrii Miachin with the drawn out violins and a brooding, sonorous pitch.  Dialogue is a minorly muddle as mentioned before with the tribulations on a feature length shot but mostly clean and clear to the point of satisfaction.  Aside from the static menu’s original trailer for the film, and the illustratively ghoulish opening sequence, the DVD comes with no other bonus material.  The DVD comes in a standard DVD tall case with a front cover of a bloodied Booboo Steward looking dazed walking through fire and the same image is used for the disc art.  Psychologically scything, “Those Who Walk Away’s” fillets guilt from the bone with scene shooting originality and a cast that nails every second lapse. 

Never Abandon Your Problems.  Face Them!  “Those Who Walk Away” on DVD!