Tag Archives: Human Lanterns

Disguise as the Dead to Defeat EVIL! “The Shadow Boxing” reviewed! (88 Films / Blu-ray)

Posted by Steven Lewis on

Corpse Herding Isn’t Easy in “The Shadow Boxing.” Purchase Your Copy Here!

Corpse herder Fan Chun-Yuen has studied Master Chen for years, learning the ritual incantations and mastering the nuances of getting the dead home to their loved ones for proper burial.  What should have been a routine corpse herding goes astray when the last arrival of a corpse, a bald man, seemingly has issues following the simple incantations and master Chen’s leg is broken during a misunderstanding over gambling winnings at one of their resting pitstops.  Being left with no choice, Fan Chun-Yuen must herd the rest of the hopping corpses, publicly feared as hopping vampires, to their terminus with the aid of aspiring corpse herder and an undeterred woman Ah-Fei.  At the same time, criminal overlord Zhou, a casino owner, and a corrupt military leader are in search of a moral sub-lieutenant who can foil their plans and who has seemingly evaded all military checkpoints in route to Zhou, leaving the corpse herding understudies in the middle of a danger. 

The jiāngshī, or hopping vampire, is the Chinese version of the living dead, whether be a vampire, zombie, or a ghost in the country’s folklore.  In Chia-Liang Liu’s 1979 comedy-actioner “The Shadow Boxing,” the horror element of the jiāngshī is reduced to no more than a few false scares on the Chinese cultural collectiveness of superstitious fears.  Originally known as “Mao shan jiang shi quan” and also known as “The Spiritual Boxer II,” the film is considered a quasi-sequel to also Liu’s 1975 “The Spiritual Boxer” but only in association to the director and one of the principal actors and not a direct, character-connecting sequel by any other means.  The late “Human Lanterns” and “Demon of the Lute” writer Kuang Ni pens the script with Kung-fu comedy in mind amongst seedy corruption aimed to thwart tradition and principles, shot in Hong Kong by Celestial Entertainment on the Shaw Brothers studio lot, and produced by younger Shaw brother, Run Run or Shao Renleng. 

The actor who carries over from “The Spiritual Boxer” is “Dirty Ho” star Yue Wong in the role of corpse herding apprentice with a bad memory, Fan Chun-Yuen.  Wong’s character is a likeable learner who has the skills to be great at his vocation but lacks the confidence without being tethered to his master, played as drunkard and obsessive gambler by Chia-Liang’s brother, Chia-Young Liu, a longtime stunt man (“Once Upon A Time in China,” “The Savage Killers”) and actor (“The Return of the One Armed Swordsman,” “Five Fingers of Death”).  Fan Chun-Yuen tries to keep his sifu on a straighten arrow and focus on the task on hand and Wong and Chia-Liang invest that dynamic wholeheartedly while maintaining their sense of strength outside military force and criminal brutality to be masters under the flags of good and just.  Between them, a level of trust and reliance is displayed through their fighting casino goons and military soldiers where Wong needs his master to shout commands of the vampire style due to his bad memory.  There’s almost zero context on why that is but adds a melted layer of slip-in, slip-out comedy to make it unusually entertaining.  An understudy of the understudy and borderline love interest comes from Cecilia Wong (“The Hunter, the Butterfly and the Crocodile”) as Ah-Fei, a friend of Fan Chun Yuen who doesn’t want an arranged marriage but has an underscoring coyness with Fan Chun but their misadventures delivering the beloved bodies to grieving relatives proves to be difficult and much of their shenanigans to try and make their “mastery” believable in order to deliver the goods gets in the way of that amorous connection.  Also in the way are the corruptive forces hellbent to track down Chang Chieh (another Liu brother in Gordon Liu, “Kill Bill”) before he foils their transgressions, coinciding with performances from Lung Chan, Han Chiang, Wu-liang Chang, and Norman Chu.

“The Shadow Boxing” finely blends the chop-socky action with mystical folklore and comedy that’s not overly slapstick or buffoonery.  A serious layer runs through the middle of story and while the line chart fluctuates between peaks of let-loose Wing Chun and then violent sway the other direction with fleeting spikes of death and ghoulish shades, there’s never a tiresome tone of stagnating acts as Kuang Ni’s script develops and progresses upon the micro and macro dynamics of good versus evil characters, especially how Ni slyly introduces audiences to the last and bald corpse and it’s diverging acts of not exactly following incantational direction, in a mistakenly, humorous way.  The off feeling is there of baldie being of some importance but not until more third-party clues come to light halfway through the runtime and it’s by then the lightbulb begins to flutter and anticipatory wait for exposure begins.  If looking at “The Shadow Boxing” on a more comprehensive scale in the martial arts genre, the pace of fighting emulates too much on the lines of choreography counting.  Slow and herky-jerky, there’s not a smooth transition of moves in either of the individualized faceoffs or in the group skirmishes that doesn’t reflect well upon the stunt department as martial arts is the centerpiece of the action.  Every other aspect of creating tension and levity with the action works perfectly only to be lopsided by the sudden starts, stops, starts of checklist kick and punches. 

88 Films’ North American label lands the new high-definition release of “The Shadow Boxing” with an AVC encoded, 1080p, BD50.  The transfer is processed from the original negative and presented in the original Cinemascope aspect ratio of a 2.35:1.  The anamorphic lens used compresses the image, creating a spherical or rounded out sides on tighter shots, a known issue for the lenses of those times.  The 35mm negative has won the test of time with a near spotless print that 88 Films sharpens the color palette and defines the broader details with texture lacing, decoding the image at an average of 33Mbps.  There are times the details appear too texturally chiseled with the Shaw Brothers’ set backgrounds exposed as obviously painted backdrops, see the final showdown fight.  A single audio, uncompressed output of a LPCM Mandarin 2.0 mono is offered on the release.  The track comprises enough overlapping range of effects to sturdy the sound design almost as if it was an innate recording.  The instilled post effects have the traditional Chinese martial arts flare of whacks and thunks but added with greatly synchronous care whereas the dialogue, though clean and present at the front, has the expected timing issues with an intensity level that doesn’t quite match at times.  English subtitles are optionally available.  Surprisingly, this is one of the few 88 Films releases without special features other than the original trailer.  Instead, the label elevates the physical release with a limited-edition stunning monochromatic and illustrated cover art by Mark Bell with subtle tactile elements on the cardboard O-slipcover.  The same image is showcased as the primary clear Amaray cover art but with slightly more color added to it while the reverse sleeve features the original Hong Kong poster art.  The LE also comes with 4 collectable artcards, though they’re more still image cards than art.  The not rated, 101-minute runtime 88 Films release is encoded for only two of the three regions with an A and B playback.

Last Rites: Hong Kong cinema has been fast, loose, and either furiously funny or folklorically fist over hard-hitting fist and Chia-Liang Liu’s “The Shadow Boxing” takes into account both now on a format pedestal with a new Blu-ray release from 88 Films!

Corpse Herding Isn’t Easy in “The Shadow Boxing.” Purchase Your Copy Here!

Taxi Driver by Day, EVIL Serial Killer by Night! “Dr. Lamb” reviewed! (Unearthed Films / Blu-ray)

Posted by Steven Lewis on

“Dr. Lamb” is ready to operate.  See him in action on Blu-ray from Unearthed Films and MVD Visual!

Quiet as a boy verbally and physically abused by his stepmother yet laid to experience the adult perversities at the permission of his unconcerned father, Lam Gor-Yu, now as a man, is still quiet and still has unusual interests as an afterhours taxi driver.  Triggered by rainy nights when a torrent of verbal abuse by his female passengers send the usually reserved taxi driver into a homicidal fury, extending his lonely nights into straggling women, returning their bodies to his family homes, and video tapes his exploits within his fascination for amateur medical procedures.  When the police raid his family home after developed disturbing pictures were discovered at the local print shop, Lam’s entire family is hauled into questioning and it’s to Inspector Lee and his team to unearth exactly what transpired to the lifeless bodies seized by a notoriously sociopathic serial killer.

When you think of serial killers globally, Hong Kong isn’t the first place that comes to mind.  In fact, Hong Kong isn’t even a blip on the radar as the Pearl River Delta residence only has two known serial killers attributed to the city.  One of those killers is Lam Kor-wan – aka The Jars Murderer – aka the Rainy Night Butcher – who terrorized the then British territorialized Hong Kong in the early 80s, killing and post-mortem mutilating four young women.  La Kor-wan became the notorious inspirational material for the Danny Lee and Billy Tang (“Run and Kill”) co-directed Dr. Lamb that was released in 1992 and penned by Kam-Fai Law (“The Close Encounters of Vampire).  “The Killer’s” star Lee, who was more Chinese action star than filmmaker, developed the film, reluctantly at first, during the time when Hong Kong’s Category III classification rating was extending from solely high-end erotica and sleaze into extreme horror and thrillers.  Lee served as executive producer with Parkman Wong, who also worked alongside Danny Lee on “The Killer,” under Grand River Films Ltd.

To be portraying one of two Hong Kong’s serial killers feels like an unsurmountable responsibility burdening the actor’s shoulders in order to parallel the motivational intricacies and the mental mindset as accurate as possible knowing that the character can’t just blend into a vast serial killer fold where you can find multiple variations of John Wayne Gacy or Jeffrey Dahmer being grossly rendered for U.S. pop culture exploitation.  Yet, in steps in front of the camera Simon Yam, one of Hong Kong’s prolific action stars in the late 80s to early 90’s now stepping into the shoes of a real-life maniacal persona and relatively close to where all of Lam Kor-wan’s dirty-little-deeds took place.  Simon Yam could very well be the killer himself, that’s how brilliantly Yam’s performance is in what’s certainly a confident display of range in contrast within his acting opus.  Replacing a gun with a scalpel, Lee and Yam dig deep into the character’s psyche with an interpretation of why Lam Kor-wan did what he did and, frankly, Yam just went stoically wild to reach Lam’s staggering levels of crazy as he descends deeper into the retelling of his encounters with each victim. While “Dr Lamb” is a grim tale, there’s a comical side to it with the police force, supervised by Inspector Lee, played by Danny Lee himself in a duality position of cast and crew. More of the comic relief stems from Inspector Lee’s second-in-command, an experienced, yet overweight, cop who lets others handle his workload. Literally named Fat Bing, comedian and “Human Lanterns” actor Kent Cheng continues his whimsical routine in unvarnished subject matter revolving around separate bits and pieces of people’s tissue and organs for twisted pleasures. Collateral damage of Lam’s horrifying late-night exploratory surgery antics on women involve his family as they also become suspects. Lam’s father (Siu-Ming Lau, “A Chinese Ghost Story”) keeps his blinders on while the evidence piles only to be turned when his son’s transgressions include a minor family member does his own flesh and blood then cross a line of no return.

There are always two sides to every story. No, I’m not saying there are two repelling sides to The Rainy Night Butcher’s homicidal havoc. “Dr. Lamb,” as a film, has a dichotomy about it that’s half biographically true and grim while the other half is crime drama peppered with clownery. The combination is odd and equally as frustrating as the black tone of the historical background and the graphic nature of some authentical depicted acts of inhuman urges find their way weaved into the fabric of cavalier cop buffoonery who, on one hand, seem really good and really intense at their job while, on the other hand, lack the gumption for sobering behavior. Even when investigating Lam’s videotape (to which there is no way in Hell Lam videotaped that himself as the camera moves as he’s engrossed with necrophilia and removing body parts), the cops overact the disgust with what looks like chunky tuna being forced out of their mouth along the lines of appearing like vomit. The underplayed theme is anything but funny in its psychological context of misanthropy and misogyny. All of Lam’s scenes of cruelty are told in flashback through his perspective, molded by his undertone hate for women. “Dr. Lamb” is a misogynistic tale bred out of childhood abuse by a woman close to his family and unabashed and unattended by his lenient father’s lack of concern. Three out of the four women Lam taxis-to-taxidermy often verbally and physically assault him and plague his personal space with their awful behavior, setting a dial backwards in his battered brain that reminds him of the time his stepmother slapped him or forced him into a closet for hours. Is “Dr. Lamb” a Freudian lemma that Lam sees his ruthless stepmother in these women and turns on them to humiliate their corporeal existence? That’s a deep dive, but not as deep as “Dr. Lamb” cuts as a visceral experience based off of one of Hong Kong’s notorious serial killers.

Distributing in at number 8 on the spine of the Unearthed Films’ Unearthed Classics banner is “Dr. Lamb” on a new Blu-ray home video. The region A locked, AVC encoded, BD50 is slicked up with a 1080p high-definition upgrade presented in a widescreen 1.78:1 aspect ratio. As one of cinematographer Kin-Fai Mau’s first few pictures, the cool blue and misty has an interesting allure like a hazy bad dream subdued by an infusion of looking through blue glass with a prism of white light filtering through. Perhaps not as detailed as desired, the release does stand above the rest with low-level continuous speck blemishes that are only noticeable if you’re searching for them. Two audio options are available: a Cantonese LPCM 2.0 Mono and a Mandarin LPCM 2.0 Mono. Both tracks do come with well-sync and accurate English subtitles with the only downside is in their quick sojourning. There are a few instances where the subtitles pop up for literally a second as a result of quick nature of the dialect to get to the next set of text. While toggling between the two languages, my audio receptors really took to the Cantonese for a more natural flow and visually for unison between speech and speaking. The Mandarin is certainly more powerful but also too over-the-top as in watching I relate to watching old Japanese with English dub. The special features include an audio commentary by Ultra Violent’s Art Ettinger and Cinema Arcana’s Bruce Holecheck, a background interview about “Dr Lamb’s” genesis with the story producer Gilbert Po Lamb to the Slaughter, an interview with film critic James Mudge on the Golden Era of Cat III Three Times the Fear, a talking point conversation about “Dr Lamb” from film academic Sean Tierney, an Atomic TV interview with star Simon Yam, and trailers. The physical release itself comes with a 6-page, color booklet essay from cinema academic and author Calem Waddell (producer of “The Collingswood Story” and many horror-film related documentaries). A cardboard slipcover with one of the more provocative poster arts. Unearthed Films’ Blu-ray comes unrated with a runtime of 90 minutes. When perusing what to watch one night, be sure to hail down this cab of fact-based macabre driven by “Dr Lamb’s” psychological psychopathy and his pathologic urge for unnecessary medical procedures.

“Dr. Lamb” is ready to operate.  See him in action on Blu-ray from Unearthed Films and MVD Visual!

EVIL Lights Up When Peeling Skin! “Human Lanterns” reviewed! (88 Films / Blu-ray)

Posted by Steven Lewis on



Own this beautiful release from 88 Films of the “Human Lanterns”

Two respected and wealthy Kung-Fu masters have a long rivalry, trying to one-up each other at any cost even if that means stooping into their personal life to gain the most public admiration.  With the annual lantern festive approaches, to have the best and brightest lantern would sustain at least a year of gloating over the other master.  When a lantern maker with a retaliation mindset against one of the more boastful masters is hired to make his festival entry, the lantern maker exacts horrifying revenge by fueling their feud behind the scenes. Kidnapping beautiful women who are dear to each master and exploiting their soft delicacies for his crazed creations, the maniac lantern maker turns the village upside down, forcing the local constable into an impossible investigate into the village’s most popular residents when none of the evidence points to the other.

“Ren pi den long,” aka “Human Skin Lanterns,” aka “Human Lanterns” is a grisly Kung-Fu murder-mystery that’ll make your skin crawl right off from your body. The stylishly colored and ethereally varnished 1982 Hong Kong film is written-and-directed by Taiwanese director Chung Sun (“Lady Exterminator) that blended the likes of a giallo mystery into the well-choreographed martial arts mania with the profound Kung-Fu screenwriter, Kuang Ni (“The One-Armed Swordsman,” “The Flying Guillotine”), co-writing the script alongside Sun. While not as ostentatiously gory or as cinematically profane as the 80’s released Category III certified films that rocked Hong Kong audiences, and the censor board, with shocking, gruesome imaginary and content, “Human Lanterns” does sit teetering on the edge with mostly a tame Kung-Fu feature that quickly turns into the blistering carnage of a basket case, or in this a lantern maker, who uses hiding as a double entendre. “Human Lanterns” is a Shaw Brothers Studio production executively produced by the oldest of two brothers, Rumme Shaw, and, then new to the Shaw Brothers’ board of directors, producer Mona Fong.

“Human Lanterns” starred two the renowned names in martial arts films from the 1970s and well into the 1980s with “Fist of Fury” and “The Swordsman and the Enchantress’s” Tony Liu as the impeccably arrogant Lung Shu-Ai with a self-image to protect more than the women in his life and “Bloody Monkey Master” and “Return of the Bastard Swordsman” Kuan Tai Chen sporting a sweet mustache as Lung’s longtime rival, Tan Fu. Shu-Ai and Chen have really spot on, well-versed, fight sequences together braided into their play off each other’s character’s haughty personas. While behind the curtain of overweening and defiance between the two masters, Chao Chun-Fang unceremoniously sneaks into the fold by happenstance as Lung offers him money for the best lantern this side of the lantern festival. Lung and Chao Chun-Fang, played with a demented, idiosyncratic duality from Leih Lo (“The Five Fingers of Death,” “Black Magic”), another master in the art of fighting in his own style, have an inimical past…well, at least thought so by Chun-Fang. In a sword dual over a woman, Lung defeats Chun-Fang and purposefully scars him above the left eye, causing him the inability to look up, and while the lantern maker has stewed for many years, training all the while to be the best fighter, his tormentor Lung Shu-Ai has nearly all forgotten about the incident and found trivial enough to ask Chung-Fang to make him a lantern and offer him out for drinks for being old buddies of yore. However, this yard pulls the wool over the eyes of self-centered, the upper class, and the unruffled nonchalant as Chung-Fang takes advantage of the Kung-Fu masters naivety and uses the rival as a screen to cover up his kidnapping deeds of the women in their lives, played by Ni Tien (“Corpse Mania”), Linda Chu (“Return of the Dead”), and Hsis-Chun Lin. “Human Lanterns” rounds out the character list with a hired assassin in Meng Lo (“Ebola Syndrome”) and a competent but out of his league village constable in Chien Sun (“The Vampire Raiders”).

The look of “Human Lanterns” is often dreamy. No, I don’t mean dreamy as in gazing into the strong blue eyes of your tall and dark fantasy man. The dreamy I’m speaking of is produced by cinematographer An-Sung Tsao’s luminescence that radiates of background and the characters through the wide range of primary hues. Tsao’s colorful and vibrant eye doesn’t clash with the vintage era piece consisting of impressively detailed sets, a costume design plucked straight from the 19th, and hair, makeup, and props (which I’ve read some of the blades were authentic) to bring up the caboose of selling the completed package of delivering a spot-on period film. When Leih Loh dons the skull mask, an undecorated and unembellished human skull, with wild, untamed hair sprouted from every side of the eyeless mask, Loh transforms into a part-man, part-beast jumping, summersaulting, leaping, and seemingly flying through the air like a manically laughing ghost. The visual cuts petrifyingly more than described and if you add an extensive amount of Kung-Fu to the trait list, “Human Lanterns” has a unique and unforgettable villain brilliantly crafted from the deepest, darkest recesses of our twisted nightmares. “Human Lanterns” has a wicked and dark side that balances the more arrogantly campiness of Lung and Tan’s hectoring rivalry. When Lieh Loh is not skinning in his workshop or Lung and Tan are not bullying each other into submission, there’s plenty of action with the heart stopping, physics-defying martial arts that just works into the story as naturally as the horror and the comedy. With shades of giallo and fists of fury, “Human Lanterns” is Hong Kong’s very own distinctive and downright deranged brand of good storytelling.

88 Films lights the way with a new high-definition Blu-ray of the Shaw Brothers’ “Human Lanterns” from the original 35mm negative presented in Shawscope, an anamorphic lensed 2.35:1 aspect ratio that more than often displays the squeeze of the picture into the frame. One could hardly tell the upscale to 1080p because of the very reason I explained in the previous paragraph of the airy An-Sung Tsao façade that softly glows like bright light behind a fog. Nonetheless, the image quality is still stunning and vivid, a real gem of conservation and handling on this Blu-ray release. The Mandarin dubbed DTS-HD 1.0 master audio is synched well enough to the action for a passing grade. The foley effects, such as the swipes and hits, are often too repeated for comfort, but adds to “Human Lantern’s” campy charm. The newly translated English subtitles are synchronous with the picture and are accurate but, in rare instances, come and go too quickly to keep up with the original language. The release comes not rated with a run time of 99 minutes and is region locked at A and B. Why not go full region free is beyond me? Licensing? Anyway, special features include an audio commentary by Kenneth Brorsson and Phil Gillon of the Podcast On Fire Network, “A Shaw Story” interview with then rising Hong Kong star Susan Shaw who talks about the competitive and easy blacklisting Hong Kong and Tawain cinema market, “The Beauty and the Beasts” interview with in story brothel mistress played by Linda Chu often harping upon not wanting to do nudity despite directors begging her, “Lau Wing – The Ambiguous Hero” interview with Tony Liu that comes with its own precaution title card warning of bad audio (and it is really bad and kind of ear piercing) as the lead man really regales his time on set and in the industry between Golden Harvest Productions and Shaw Brothers Studios, and rounding out the main special features is the original trailer. The package special features is a lantern of a different color with a limited edition cardboard slipcase with new artwork from R.P. “Kung-Fu Bob” O’Brien, a 24-page booklet essay entitled “Splicing Genres with Human Lanterns” by Barry Forshaw accompanied by full colored stills, posters, and artwork by O’Brien, a double-sided fold out poster, and reversible Blu-ray cover art that can be flipped from the same, yet still awesome, O’Brien slipcover art to the original release art. The new 88 Films’ Blu-ray set conjures a renaissance satisfaction like none other for a highly recommended, genre-ambiguous, vindictive affray.

Own this beautiful release from 88 Films of the “Human Lanterns”