EVIL Manga to EVIL Movie! “Liverleaf” reviewed! (SRS Cinema / DVD)

“LIverleaf” Pushes Through the Bleak to Shine. On DVD Now!

The move from Tokyo to a dwindling rural town hasn’t been easy for middle schooler Haruka.  Most of her classmates have grown up with each other and formed vicious cliques that bully her relentless during and after school.  Mitsuru Abu, a photography enthusiast and Haruka’s classmate is also an outsider but has family ties to the area, is about her only friend and whom she finds attractive.  Upon returning home after spending the day together, Haruka finds her family home engulfed in flames, her mother and father dead, and her little sister severely burned over her entire body.  The loss of her family, her only emotional support, mentally compromises Haruka’s self-control and sends her spiraling into a revenge fueled murdering spree, targeting her bullying classmates who had a hand in the inferno of her family home.  The root of malevolence is not as it appears on the surface, and it will be up to Haruka to kill her way in finding the truth and reveal the secrets.

Adapted from the popular manga series, “Misu Misō,” written by Oshikiri Rensuke, the film version incorporates the indelicate dramas of being a school age teen in while reproducing faithfully the graphic gore, violence, and disturbing nature of character of the series in great detail.  Titled “Liverleaf,” as in the resilient, mountainous found three-lobe leafed flower that resembles the human liver and can withstand harsh winter conditions, is helmed by “Let’s Make the Teacher Have a Miscarriage Club” director Eisuke Naitô and penned by Miako Tadano of “The World of Kanako,” another manga-based film adaptation.  The 2018 film, which can be described as a revenge-drama with particle elements of horror, is shot in one of the snow-covered foothills of Japan’s mountain regions and is produced by Shigeto Arai (“We Are Little Zombies”) under the production banners of the Nikkatsu Corp. and the L’espace Film Co.

Anna Yamada is in the lead role that’s very familiar and culturally significant to Japanese cinema.  A scorn-born femme fatale that’s merciless and personnel, the kind of role that Quentin Tarantino exacted in his tribute to Asian revenge narrative with “Kill Bill,” starring Uma Thurman, hunting down the offending party and dispatching the scum from the Earth in a one-by-one fashion.  The “Suicide Forest Village” actress Yamada headlined “Liverleaf” as mid-to-late teen portraying the manga series’ preteen or early teenage girl Haruka Nozaki.  She isn’t the only nearly adult woman to play a teen in the throes of hormones, peer pressures, and angsty conditions sideswiped by wickedness and a taste for dominance as the whole student body pretends to be a youthful waste in a snowy, mountainside village on the verge of collapse.  Howling Village’s Rinka Ôtani, as Taeko Oguro, stands out with her bright orange hair and a sense of indifferent authority being the supposed head of the gaggle of bullying girls.  “Liverleaf” is Ôtani debut picture and Ôtani would eventually reteam with Yamada on “Suicide Forest Village,” but their first dichotomized performance as protagonist and antagonists brings a palpable tension to the screen.  Throw a boy both girls stoically can’t admit with a lot of expression and that pressure pot grows into an ugly shape of jealousy spurred love triangle.  Mitsuru Aibe is tall, handsome, kind, and a photography buff always looking for the raw and beautiful moment to capture on film.  Played by Hiroya Shimizu, “The World of Kanako” and “Sadako” actor instills that hope for the future and a glance of stability amongst the opposing craziness that has ensued between the rebirthed revenger Nozaki and the horrible highschoolers now fearing for their lives because of their responsible part for the monster they’ve created but does he really provide a safer, greener pasture Nozaki needs to return to once her retribution is complete?  Kenshin Endô, Masato Endô, Reiko Kataoka, Seina Nakata, Arisa Sakura, Aki Moita, Minoir Terada, Kazuki Ôtomo, and ReRena Ôtsuka are cast in one messed up and depressive high school student body that ends in a blizzard of bloodshed.

One thing about “Liverleaf,” if looking at and considering all the components of the feature as a whole, to take away from the adaptation is how Eisuke Naitô facsimiles the plot points of a manga series or, in more general terms, Naitô” has plucked the rudimentary concepts straight from any regular extreme manga series, not just from Oshikiri Rensuke’s Misu Misō.  Yet, “Misu Misō” is very faithfully extracted from the illustrated pages for live action execution down to many of the details with very few changes to the story’s original design. Gore has an extreme graphic nature juxtaposed against the snow, contrasting in homage to those historical revenge genre films set in the same harsh, white blanket, and like all the heroines, or anti-heroines, Haruka Nozaki speaks her soul in her outfit, dressed in a continuously deepening red after each gruesome dispatch of her classmates.  This saturation into crimson extends into this belief that Nozaki is bordering being supernatural, like most condemned women done wrong, who somehow find the superhuman strength, endurance, know-how, and resilience in their own disdain for blood and violence to slay beyond their normal means without batting an eyelash.  “Liverleaf” is not the chippiest of narratives with a coursing core of grim doom and gloom through a quickly dilapidating little town with an austere school, junk pits, and modest structures that inhabit indifferent teachers, brooding teens, and a mental illness that ranges from inherent sociopathy to social sociopathy of peer pressures and bullying. 

SRS Cinema brings manga pen and paper to the big screen with their unrated DVD release of the film adaptation titled “Liverleaf.”  The MPEG2 encoded, upscaled 1080p, DVD9 release is presented in a 1.78:1 aspect ratio.  “Liverleaf” stands out unusual from the other SRS releases, a company that prides itself on standard definition 480 and 720 resolutions and compressing features and their special features onto a packed DVD5 that creates eye artefacts on already low budget, commercial grade, inexperienced film.  Instead, “Liverleaf” has punchier colors and distinction on that segregates the austere from the vibrancy and the extra space helps allow for this decoding to be as smooth as possible on what some may now consider an antiquated format.  Decoding at a higher range of 7-9Mbps, compression imprudence doesn’t show itself here with a clean picture that retians inky voids, charted snow mounds and footprints in a white sheet of snow, and the colors and details on objects that natural enlarge themselves when in contrast, such as Nozaki’s red jacket or the red, orange, and yellow glow of house flames against the night sky.  The Japanese LPCM 2.0 stereo renders a clean mix of dialogue, ambience, and soundtrack.  Dialogue’s clean, crisp, and clearly upfront of a subdued diegetic sound mixed from the boom mic or from post and a Hisashi Arita soundtrack that scores Japanese revenge in non-traditional Japanese notes.  Post mix and action does create some separation that uncouples the visual onomatopoeia of the activity but remains negligible throughout.  The burned-in English subtitles synch well and are error-free.  Extras include a featurette from Manga to Movie that goes into the history of manga and the adaptation concept which most thought the film couldn’t be adapted, Elijah Thomas supplements with his own thoughts and opinions on “Liverleaf” as well as another featurette titled Liverleaf’s Obsession that looks at the character’s dangerous obsessive qualities, the trailer, a Oshikiri Rensuke, biography The Comically Twisted Mind of Oshikiri Rensuke with narrator voiceover going into the writer’s family history and “Misu Misō” genesis, the trailer, and talent files on Anna Yamada, Eisuke Naito, Hiroya Shimizu, Miako Tadano, and Rinka Otani.  These features house behind a static menu, that only has a play option alongside the extras, with a neat art illustration of a murderously ominous Naruka Nozaki.  The cover art hints at the film’s stark contrast aesthetics with a Naruka Nozaki wrapped her red coat and jetblack hair sprawled out on the white snow.  The Amaray does not come with a reversible cover nor any tangible extras inside.  DVD has region A only playback and has a runtime of 114 minutes. 

Last Rites: “Liverleaf” is a surprising, better-than-no budget teen revenge thriller that deals with obsession, depression, and a consternation that Haruka’s tragic journey through the pits of a lowly high school hierarchy will only get worse before it gets better.

“LIverleaf” Pushes Through the Bleak to Shine. On DVD Now!

There’s No EVIL Magic Cure for the Inevitable. “Bag of Lies” reviewed! (Dread / Blu-ray)

See What’s in the Bag! “Bag of Lies” on Blu-ray!

When everything seems to be going Matt and Claire’s way with a strong marital bond, a beautiful house, and rising careers, life throws them a nasty curveball – Claire is hit with inoperable, terminal cancer. Laid up in bed, her weak immune system and fleeting strength are spent on retching up the remains of the chemotherapy treatments she suddenly quits. Matt, under a considerable amount of pressure in losing his wife, has tried everything from conventional medical treatment to the snake oil practices of holistic cults. Desperate for a cure, Matt turns to a man and his bag. Not just any bag, but a bag given the right ritual and stated purpose will produce all that Mark desires and, in this case, the return of his wife’s good health. The man warns that rules must be followed and when Matt can’t uphold his end of the agreement, what he wishes for will still come true in a way most unpleasant.

“Bag of Lies” is the 2024 released supernatural thriller to boldly state that no matter whatever miracle cure is trialed or desperate attempted, one can’t stop the juggernaut of grim inevitability, and if somehow, someway one beats the momentous odds, nothing will ever be the same again or, perhaps, it will be worse.  Debuting his first feature, David Andrew James is the mastermind behind the screen treatment of the story, directing and writing the shooting script based off a story by Nick Laughlin, known for his art and props on “Wrong Turn” remake and “Bones and All,” and “Clever Girl” creator Joe Zappa that tackles one of the more painfully enduring occurrences of impending loss, the slow and excruciating rot of cancer that selfishly takes everything and all anyone, especially loved ones, can do is sit and watch the wasting away from internal consumption of being.  “Bag of Lies” is another Dread Presents and Traverse Terror collaboration, produced by Dread and Epic Picture’s Patrick Ewald and Matt Cleckner alongside Spencer Frazen, Joe Hui, Victoria McDevitt, Jake Heineke, and director David Andrew James.

One of the problems “Bag of Lies” has lies with the married couple Matt and Claire Quimby, played respectively by Patrick Taft and Brandi Botkin (“Bystanders,” “Wicked Ones”).  The problem is not chemistry as the affectionate teasing and relationship frustrations are the hallmarks done right to reflect any kind of amorous partnership on screen and the fact that Taft and Botkin have previously collaborated also makes establishing an already established couple a lot easier but the latter has been under different roles and conditions with Taft producing projects, such as “Wicked Ones,” and both also having roles in the same television series entitled “Wildfire” but overlapping only once in their own three episodes span.  The problem falls upon how their characters got to be where they are now and that creates an injustice to that particular unpleasant side of the story because the audience never experiences the good times the Quimby’s once had before cancer strikes at Claire, not even in a remote sense, and that ultimately fails them because its hard to fall long and hard if not privy to the height of their good fortune.  The lack of backstory extends to the supporting cast with Matt’s awfully empathetic cousin Harold (John Wells, “The Possessed”) who hangs around, brings over a 6-pack, and occasion reworks their basement to surprise Claire with an in-house music studio, more so the former two, and the mysterious man Al (Terry Tacontins) who offers or is sought out or is just happened upon, it’s unclear, the even more mysterious bag option to Matt with a vague understanding of instructions or the cost of what he’s about to unleash or sacrifice or both.  These supporting characters lack of reason for being a cog in the bigger machine seems happenstance rather than necessary to the progression or the problem in what evolves into more of a three-way triangle between Matt, Claire, and an unusual young woman sneaking into their house and property and has a quirky laugh and a dark circle on her palm, played by Madison Pullins (“Baby Oopsie: The Series”).  Aja Nicole and a Kayla Theis round out the cast as Matt’s doctor friend Gwen and local bartender Lilly who has loved one ailment issues that parallel to Matt.

The title “Bag of Lies” is a spin on the idiom a pack of lies, defined as a grouping of false statements or information led to deceit.  “Bag of Lies” plays and preys upon that deception of an all-in-one, quick-and-easy remedy aimed to be a cure-all when, in reality, the thing to solve all your problems is nothing but snake oil that builds hope out of desperation, that sees confidence stemmed from false promise, and instills blindness to the consequences it delivers.  David Andrew James favors suspending in disbelief more than what’s comfortable as Matt experiences haunting visions of ominous means to an end yet doesn’t seem too bothered to really dig into the background and so the story flounders in the second act with Matt just experience weird and frightening sights and sounds without even an attempt to explain, until near the end.  Frankly, if I kept seeing a quirky, quizzical madwoman constantly around and inside my house, the cops would be on speed dial.  Instead, Matt lets himself be silage for the taking, cut off from the rest of reality for the most part without ever going to the authorities, without ever confiding in his friends, nor without ever digesting his experiences and talking about it with his wife, who is usually part of the strange visional equation.  That isolation plays into the burdening effect of trying to beat the odds by doing it yourself and not asking for help, which is definitely being depicted here in Matt’s own surreal nightmare, but the lackadaisical effort and having one peculiar instance roll over him after another breaks down the story’s credibility.  Much like the cancerous rot that’s eating his wife from in the inside out, Matt’s own rot origins from being stagnant and it’s that do-nothing that bears the consequences of terrifying transfigurations in not only his sweet Claire but also in himself. 

“Invasion of the Body Snatchers” interlocked with desperation and a melancholic longing is how the “Bag of Lies” shapes fictional hope around a wrenched inevitability, similar to what the French author Guy de Maupassant once said,, “ the only certainty is death.”  Dread and Epic Pictures brings home an unrated, AVC encoded, 1080p high definition, BD25. Presented in a widescreen 2.40:1 aspect ratio.  Brandt Hackney’s shadowy cinematographer has a fairly nature presence in natural daylight sequences but utilizes a quite a bit of low-level, low-frequency lighting to create a soft incandescence and low-contrast shadows spreads.  Much of the same textures and colors are shown over and over and without that breadth of diversity, comparing scene-by-scene details are more than slim but what’s apparent is subordinate to the atmospheric lighting, or lack thereof, to create moody, broody dark house settings with little light to expose detail and color.  Even in bar sequences, the dimness doesn’t allow detail.  The English audio offerings are a Dolby Digital 5.1 and a Dolby Digital 2.0 Stereo. What’s uniquely about the “Bag of Lies” audio facet is the distinct distortional soundtrack by James Paul Bailey who, in his own words, could never recreate or repeat the score again because of the randomized tones and feedback produces by temperamental distortion boxes, overlayed and modulated to produce a one-of-a-kind soundtrack to parallel the rotting horror “Bag of Lies” corkscrews into. Dialogue does the job with a clean and clear rendering by an indifferently satisfying sort of humdrum performances unfazed by the surrounding sideshow of black bag magic and the curious curiosity that’s emerging vocally from within its capacity. There’s decent localized range within Quimby house with conversating interactions with a door or a vent in between, using post-production to fill in hurling diatribes from the basement below toward Matt in Claire’s voice. English and Spanish subtitles are optionally available. Special features include a brief behind-the-scenes featurette with cast interviews voicing their deconstructing opinions about the story. Though not listed on the back cover, there is a longer, more in-depth featurette around James Paul Bailey’s distortion oeuvre for the film that’s quite comprehensive, plus the film’s trailer and other Dread Presents film trailers. Physical features are just like all the other bare minimum Dread-Epic Pictures release with a standard Blu-ray Amaray and no inserts. The cover illustration has clunky written all over it with a photoshop job of what looks like a giant dirty taco, but it’s the titular bag, with a dirty disfigured hand reaching up and out. The release has a region A playback and has a runtime of 96 minutes.

Last Rites: Neither great nor is it terrible, “Bag of Lies” skips a few key steps toward being a promising indie horror and though the theme is poignant, fantastical, and infused with a jarring soundtrack, the ironic inevitability is there is no cure for what can’t be fixed.

See What’s in the Bag! “Bag of Lies” on Blu-ray!

Pinksploitation EVIL is Transgressional Passion! “Love and Crime” reviewed! (88 Films / Limited Edition Blu-ray)

Limited Edition and Numbered Blu-ray / DVD Set Available at Amazon!

The dead body of a young woman arrives at pathology for post-mortem autopsy.  A victim of a heinous crime, the bare corpse already informs the head pathologist of sexual activity before, or after, death because of the fresh semen that’s inside her.  As he toils over her to open the chest, separate the ribs, and get a good look inside to see how and why she perished, the pathologist remains in disbelief that the semen inside her, inside his lifeless wife before him on the cold medical table and under the bright lights, is not his own.  Digging deeper into how someone could kill his beloved wife, the researcher in him hits the books, selecting and scouring through records of similar cases of murderers and rapists from over the years.  Each one under different circumstances concludes in a sentence that reflects the person they have become.  Inside the mind of a killer is a long hard look at ourselves in how far we go for treasure, love, and to quench our insanity. 

“Love and Crime,” or officially known under the Japanese title as “Meiji Taishô Shôwa: Ryôki onna hanzai-shi” aka “Showa Era:  History of Bizarre Female Crimes,” is the Japanese anthology from 1969 that pictorializes true crime narratives of mostly women transgressors, as the title suggests.  Yet, the Teruo Ishii helmed anthology is not entirely female perpetrator centric as the anthology jumps ship briefly to explore crimes against female victims for a crossover, comparative distinction.  Ishii, who played his hand in producing late 1960s sexploitation and violence by directing films in Toei Company’s pinku series that showcased the two subcategories, such as “Orgies of Edo,” “Shogun’s Joy of Torture,” “Inferno of Torture, and among many other titles with similar salaciousness, was thrust into “Love and Crime’s” consolidating short film escapade with a wraparound monologuing narrative that was just as intriguing as the sordid stories themselves.  Shigenu Okada produces “Love and Crime” as well as many of the films aforementioned.

Yoshida Teruo kicks off the wraparound with a mater-of-fact narration running through the head of Murase, the anatomist examining his dead wife’s corpse (Ritsuko Nakamura), in what would be the grisliest part of the anthology, especially when that chest snaps during separation.  Having worked with Ishii previously with “Abashiri Bangaichi,” a crime thriller about a reminiscing criminal aimed to reform himself, Teruo only worked a short stint with the Toei Company but his time spent on such films like “Crime and Love” discerns a piece of the dramatic devotion that would be otherwise missing in these purely exploitative films.  As Marase puts nose to book, he unearths and internally narrates the start of his true crime story journey research, beginning with the cut-throating scheme of the Toyokaku Inn case.  Chiyo (Aoi Mitsuko, “Melancholy Flesh Business:  Sensuous Zone”) and Kosuke (Kenjire Ishiyama, “Kwaiden”) own and run the humble Toyokaku Inn but when Chiyo seeks to changes businesses and cut ties with her philandering husband Kusuke, a treacherous and murderous plot against her is formed between Kusuke, spearheaded by assistant manager Kinue Munekata (Rika Fujie, “Outlaw:  Heartless”), and executed by maintenance man Shibuya (Takashi Fujiki, “Shin Godzlilla”).  From there, the film transitions to other female intertwined crime tales of Sada Abe, a woman who would kill her lover because of love and insistence during alternative sex, the case of Kunihiko Kodaire, a serial rapist and murderer spilling tricks of his trade to authorities, and the last known female murderer executed by katana beheading, Takahashi Oden, for poisoning her husband.  Each performance plays into the intricate patterns described by their true life counterparts with either a chilling contentment in taking a life or hurdling the obstacles inward to do the unpleasantries of what is asked of them  Circumstantial opportunities and conniving plots bury bodies six-feet under in a multifacted range of expression, greed, lust, and all the other deadly sins that plague mortals right to the very end.  “Crime and Love” fill out the pinksploitation anthology with Yukie Kagawa (“Female Prisoner Scorpion:  Jailhouse 41”), Eiji Wakasug (“Inferno of Torture”), Tomoo Koike, Tatsumi Hijikata (“Orgies of Edo”), Yumi Teruko (“Horrors of Malformed Men”), and a special appearance by the actual, reclusive, convicted murderer Abe Sada herself, shot from a distance while being interviewed by Yoshida Teruo.

As anthologies go, especially one rare as true-life crime and love, or in this case sexploitation,” “Love and Crime” has an unsystematic design when it comes to the stories and how they relate to the wraparound narrative.  For starters, not all the bizarre crimes are female centric.  The story of Kodaire revolves about a male serial rapist and murderer divulging his collected anecdotes to investigating confessors and are depicted in monochromatic flashback, the same as his present yarn telling scenes.  Though the case involves multiple women victims, Kodaire greatly stands out amongst the compilation of crimes for the very fact he is a man in an anthology literally entitled History of “Bizarre Female Crimes.”  Was the case of Kordaire a gap filler? Perhaps the uniquity of Japanese serial killers is so low and rare in their culture and history that this particular short story had enough estrogenic blood spilled it avoided the short list cut.  Each story’s relationship toward the wraparound is also thin as neither story suggests a same or remotely similar pattern to death of Maruse’s wife in what is more of a random-generator selection of stories read and worked through for better understanding of the killer female psyche rather than what makes the male killer tick to hit-and-run his wife.

“Love and Crime” is 88 Films’ answer to opening the door of the wonderfully violent and sexually charged world of pinksploitation.  A limited edition and numbered dual-format, AVC encoded, 1080p, 50-gigabye Blu-ray and standard definition, MPEG encoded, dual-layered DVD, set presents the 1969 film in the original aspect ratio of 2.35:1.  With various stylistic color grading outfits, such as grayscale image for the Kadaire case story or the last case of Takahashi Oden that’s starkly cold rooted in blue and green.  There’s not a lot of mention of what kind of work went into restoration but the print has kept in excellent condition with age or damage wear kept to a minimum with nominal vertical scratching and dust speckling.  Colors appear to be handled with true reproduction of the dyed processing, rich and bold leaves no room of ambiguity of image or object representation.  Skin tones appear natural that do flirt a lighter shade of orange at times, textures are coarse and greatly apparent, even in the black-and-white story, and there’s tremendous environment or background distinction that creates an organic depth between character and their setting rather than them being crushed into an all-in-one image.  The encoded audio is the original Japanese language LPCM mono 2.0 that captures the soothing project whir during post ADR.  Dialogue retains prominence with a clean enough clarity albeit some negligible hissing sporadic throughout.  Ambience is not as enlivened within what’s mostly an isolated dialogue mix but is there to complement to composition when necessary, such as the blustery snowfall during the execution that sets a tumultuous tone of desperation and severity.  The improved English subtitles are timely synched and error-free.  Special features include an audio commentary by the 88 Film’s Japanarchy release fire starter and Midnight Eye’s co-editor Jasper Sharp and Fangoria staff writer Amber T., a brand-new film introduction and conversation by film critic and journalist Mark Schilling, a still gallery, and trailer. The Obi-striped 88 Films packaging has a very familiar feel to what Radiance Films, another boutique UK label, is doing with their Blu-ray releases nowadays and “Love and Crime” could be confused for a Radiance resemblance, but clear UK Amary has a gorgeous, commissioned, newly designed artwork from Ilan Sheady that brings all the sordid shades of this anthology to life. The cover art is also reviersible with the original Japanese one-sheet. Inside, the Blu-ray and DVD overlap in a dual-disc lock system on the right while the left stashes 15-page black-and-white-and-colored pictured adorned essay by Nathan Stuart prologued with cast, crew, and release acknowledgments and bounded by the same Sheady artwork without the Obi strip obstruction. 88 Films release comes both in region A and B playback, is not rated, and has a runtime of 92-minutes.

Last Rites: “Love and Crime” will be a love-it or hate-it anthology of early pink violence and sexual discordance because of its broad stroke theme but the 88 Films’ limited edition, Japanarchy debut is an exciting and eager look toward the future of the label’s dive into Japan’s exploitational cinema.

Limited Edition and Numbered Blu-ray / DVD Set Available at Amazon!

Snuff is the New EVIL Industry Fad! “Snuff Queen” reviewed! (Dark Arts Entertainment / DVD)

“Snuff Queen” on DVD from Dark Arts Entertainment!

Snuff, a hot commodity amongst patrons of the black market and dark web provides real violence and real death for real morbid viewers.  Laws are challenged and circumvented by consent of women willing to die for money through various ways of asphyxiation in front of the camera and sold under the controversial snuffing genre.  A Ten-minute window of revival separates the actors and actresses from permanent brain damage or certain expiration.  A snuff performer interfaces with the complexity of thrills and easy money that counterbalances against relationship troubles, social stigma, and the constant threat of actually dying hanging over their heads, or more literally, pressed against their throats.  A handful of willing performances lets a documentarian illustrate their niche profession, lifestyle, and personal struggles to the world with included behind-the-scenes footage on set and in their private spaces as they put on their line mind, body, and soul have to survive.

Those who seek out snuff, even if represented in a sensationalized, fictious way to glorify gore, violence, violence against women, and a fascination, obsession need to satisfy murder lust, likely need to have their heads thoroughly scoured for the tiniest ounce of sociopathic tendencies.  Films like “Effects,” “Faces of Death,” “8MM,” “A Serbian Film,” and the like all contribute to that black desire of control of another person’s existence and getting off perversely on the sadism.  Films like Sean Russell’s “Snuff Queen” are nothing like those more aberrant productions of cruel reproductions.  The 2023 pseudo-documentary and mockumentary hybrid began in 2008 with AVN interviews with porn stars and their take the matter of snuff or overall rough sex.  Shelved for many years because no producer at the time deemed the material worth making a movie out of it, Russell is approached by Dark Arts Entertainment’s Brian Yuzna and John Penney to finish the film with new scenes based off the 2008 script but cut most of the comedy out for a darker tone.  David Navarro producers the film.

Previously shot 2008 AVN interview footage with some of the then biggest talent in the industry, such as Sasha Grey, Bree Olson, Stormy Daniels, Jenna Haze, Stoya, Faye Reagan, Jesse Jane, Belladonna, Aurora Snow, Jessica Drake, Sunny Lane, and even Larry Flynt, is cut into snippets of a montage as they comment on death and sex in various contexts.  The series of comments and quips puts into perspective individual limitations, mindsets, behaviors, and an unfiltered truth underneath the layers of makeup, fake breasts, and forged happiness in the adult entertainment industry masked in glitzy red lights, supersized sex drives, and a prospecting tease of getting laid.  As the 2008 prologue interviews ends, the 2023 interviews begin with mostly scripted talk following the daily lives of a handful of snuff performing women, 4 principal female characters to be exact.  Moxie Owens (“Girl Lost:  A Hollywood Story”) as Jane Doe, Lexie Leone (“It Don’t Bother Me at All”) as Amy Doe, Juliet Kennedy as Angela, and Lindsay Normington (“Anora”) as Audrey Doe become the diverse batch of short-listed actresses of controversial and law-bending snuff films. These core cast of women are joined by gap-filling support, ranging from gays, to blacks, to Asians, and so forth by extenuating out from just a white female dominated industry in touching cultural and race by the less promoted numbers of adult entertainment. Much of “Snuff Queen’s” inauthenticity garb comes from the acting that’s densely overplayed and exaggerated because of the less-comedic directive by shot-calling distributors and performances stand out amongst a darker theme as too watery and less potent, like off-brand prescription drugs. Ironically enough, IMDB.com gives in the title’s controversial nature by not listing the film under any of the actor’s individual credits as to say or allure “Snuff Queen” documentary as real evidence and content based. Tuesday Knight (“A Nightmare on Elm Street: The Dream Master”), Josie Hung (“Staycation”), Gina DeFlilippo, Captain Dare, Zac Mendoza, Neill Flemming (“It Kills at Midnight”), Christopher Parker (“Spider”) and Jake Holley costar.

Much of what is laid out in “Snuff Queen,” all the provocative and debatable ethics, legality, and portentous aspects of Snuff, is all a load of crap and the director, Sean Russell, would be the first person to tell you that.  What Russell intends to convey is an allegorical emotional evaporation in adult entertainment performers and how apathetic the industry is toward the safety and responsibility for its talent who battle with low self-esteem and anger issues that either drive wedges between friend and family or ensue verbal spouts.  There’s also the treatment or being seen as just a bag of meat for the slaughter when getting the shot is important than the person taking all the risk for little reward.  Russell achieves that endgame message despite the cuts of levity humor that do squeeze through every so often but with that squeeze-in of a dark humor chuckle, coincided with a reserved approach to a documentary surrounding Snuff of all things extreme, in lies an off-putting characteristic going against the grain of the film’s black toned nature and Russell’s indelicate undercurrent theme.  “Snuff Queen” is nowhere near the shock level its required to have, especially being bestowed a taboo title, with little-no-effort in the thickness of the story’s creative girth; instead, the 2008 interviews, snipped scenes from previous controversial films, and one atypical scene at the heart of the story teases with stark nudity and blood are the only edgier content of a rather dull feature length pseudo-documentary. 

Presented in a widescreen 1.78:1 aspect ratio, Dark Arts Entertainment distributes the home release of “Snuff Queen” on DVD.  The MPEG2, 720p and 1080p, DVD9 has stark grade resolutions due to the 2008 recorded interviews and footage shoot 15-years later in 2023 with the former a blockier, less-pixelated digital camcorder for ease of AVN, working the crowd, person-to-person use.  Recent footage has the polished look of a high-dollar digital recording sans any artistic grading or stylistic lens.  No issues with compression codec that produces a very fine, detailed image reproduction that sinks into inky blacks and retains a natural color palette.  “Snuff Queen” is authored with a LPCM English stereo mix that’s an imitation of a hot mic of continuous dialogue, as many real, pseudo, and mock documentaries are, that renders cleanly through from one bookend to the other.  There’s also not a ton of interference other than in the 2008 interviews at the AVN with perhaps more commercial equipment or audio setup.  The onboard mic snags the milieu sounds with the raw range and depth.  English subtitles are available.  Encoded special features include a director’s commentary that goes through the first planned steps for the film and its subsequent rejections from producers back in 2008, deleted scenes, and the film’s trailer.  Physical features are stark and spartan with a convention DVD Amaray that has a mock polaroid border and the redacted eyes and mouth of a faceless, chest high naked woman that draws attention in conjunction with the title.  Dark Arts Entertainment presents the release not rated, region free, and has a runtime of 92 minutes. 

Last Rites: “Snuff Queen” might have worked 15-years ago with the old footage that contained real pornstars and real enough gore effects that could have turned this concept onto a creative machination in illusion of the truth or a clever black comedy that really pokes the porn industry in the ribs, but instead time and too many hands the creative pot has relinquished any power “Snuff Queen” may have wielded, dethroning it definitly out of shock contention.

“Snuff Queen” on DVD from Dark Arts Entertainment!

A Memory Fuels EVIL’s Sexualized Resurrection. “Scream of the Blind Dead” reviewed! (Full Moon Features / DVD)

“Scream of the Blind Dead” Now on DVD!

Arriving by train to the deserted, medieval ruins of a once great 14th century town, a woman wanders aimlessly through the dilapidated structures left standing and eventually finding a peaceful resting spot on a church pew before the Holy Trinity.  Alone with her amorous thoughts for another woman, her very presence stirs the awakening a blind undead corpse out from the slumbering, Earthly tomb, the resting place of a once righteous Templar knight of a prestigious order once assigned to protect Christian values with sword and shield but disbanded and accused of occult heresy.  Being chased from dark corner to dark corner inside the ruins’ isolated, labyrinth wall, the woman narrowly escapes the relentless knight’s bloodlust blade.  She is not only frightened by the razor-sharp sword of the ghostly, ghastly figure, a dirtily shrouded, mummified corpse, but what evokes within her, her own dark, secretive past of love, murder, and vengeance, will haunt her to death.  

Director Chris Alexander has settled himself in the realm of the homage.  The Canadian filmmaker is well-known for his tribute films toward specific directors and trope styles within the creepshow genre that allow him to express his own artistic take on a classic.  “Scream of the Blind Dead” is Alexander’s latest to follow suit based off the original concept and characters by Amando de Ossorio and the Spanish director’s Blind Dead series, beginning with “Tombs of the Blind Dead” in 1972 which is the featured inspiration of Alexander’s short remake film.  The 2021 homage is penned by the “Girl with a Straight Razor” director but is also progresses forward without dialogue in what is like a music video for Ossorio’s original film, slimmed down to the principal character and one blind undead knight for much of the story.   Alexander created Delirium Films, a Full Moon sublabel to release his own productions under, conjoining the once Fangoria editor to the hip of Charles Band, as coproducer, to stretch the imagination of terror even further.  Kevin Cormier and Cheryl Singleton also coproduce the short.

You won’t see a herd of horses or a horde of blind, rotting knights on horseback in the “Scream of the Blind Dead” nor will you there be a collective degree of humans fighting for against the dead for their very lives.  Instead, two women and one knight consist of the entire cast, pared down to the two chief female characters Betty and Virginia, though they’re not explicitly named in the story, but the gist of designation is there.  Betty is played by Ali Chappell, a mainstay regular in many of Chris Alexander directorial repertoire, having roles in “Necropolis:  Legion,” “Girl with a Straight Razor,” and “It Knows Your Alone” while also being quite the scream queen in other horror projects from the 2019 anthological “The Final Ride” to last year’s “Malediction” which she debuted as a director as well.  As Betty, the short-lived role sets the dark synth soundtrack-driven tone lengthened by use of slow-motion and additional edits to build suspense and does harp back to the premise and spirt of Ossorio’s brand of Spanish horror.  Not as seasoned as Chappell in credits, the casting of Virginia goes to Stephanie Delorme, a brunette in contrast to Chappell’s blonder shade, who finds herself being chased, melodramatically I might add, by an undead knight.  Delorme’s frightful face and lumbering getaway cadence have the hallmarks of a good final victim being pursued on common horror of past, present, and future but her direction to stop and stare, almost waiting in frozen terror, is reminiscent of yore when the act of escape is negated by the sheer shock.  These are the moments audiences yell at the screen, pleading for movement, to do something other than just stand there and gape at the monster before them.  Chasing Virginia is no ordinary templar knight but a female templar knight, played by all-things-horror enthusiast, musician, and another of Alexander’s on-screen regulars Thea Faulds, under her showbiz name of Thea Munster.  Munster dons two parts connected by death as Virginia’s lover in flashback and the ghoulish knight chasing Virginia. 

“Scream of the Blind Dead” has haunting connotations of past guilt or along the lines of the soul-touching past catching up to one’s beleaguered conscious, hence why Virginia wanders the countryside in search for answers, stopping or resting along the way into a state of pain or melancholy of a memory, and comes upon a church, perhaps unintentionally to confess her darkest sins or find solace in forgiveness.  However, it wouldn’t be a horror show without some fort of graveside penance from an unearthing corpse, slowly sauntering to seek eviscerating Virginia’s regret from her exposed, beach chic-cladded abdomen.  Right before being engrossed in the standard chase fair, scenes of Virginia self-groping from fantasizing the physical touch her female lover add a layer of sensuality yet to have context other than a strong passion within Virginia, whether it’s in her heart or loins is indeterminable, but shortly after singlehandedly pleasuring herself, a female knight, with pursed mummified lips, resurrects from inside the church where Virginia rests and the slow-motion macabre begins, moving about different backdrops within the ruins and field exteriors that are basked in neon gelled key lighting that creates a smokey psychedelic, or hallucinogenic, fever dream atmosphere, a nightmare experience only fabricated in deep-seeded guilt-trips.

“Scream of the Blind Dead” short salute to Amando de Ossorio and the “Blind Dead” series is honorable enough to keep the always nitpicking fanbase from picketing. Full Moon Features distributes the MPEG2 encoded DVD5 presented in 720p resolution and a widescreen 1.78:1 aspect ratio. Picture quality through a lower resolution and a patchwork of sizzling vibrant neon lights scores across a refined image with fuzzy details and indiscernible outlines. On the color scale, there’s plenty of range through the assortment of abrasive key lighting that illuminates the rustic, rundown church and surrounding area of mostly greens and browns. Sound selection offers a lossy English Dolby Digital 5.1 and Stereo 2.0 that absolutely has a soundtrack that trades the tings of a fortepiano for a theremin but still digs into the familiar tones of Antón García Abril’s ominous industrial-synth score that lingers eerily with resonating vocals. Very few moments do in-frame sounds from the actresses come over, entirely all screams in what was mostly done in post with a clear separation from action. Because of the music video approach with no dialogue, the lossy format is nulled by what’s really a psychosexual visual experience. English closed captioning is available. Special features a feature-length director’s commentary with Chris Alexander, two music videos including Thea Munster with her thermin solo entitled Werewolfry and the other track Burial Ground from her band Night Chill, the official trailer, and the Delirium Films’ trailers. Full Moon’s No. 355 title comes in a standard DVD Amary with a mixed illustration and live photo cover art that befits the body of work. There are no slipcovers, inserts, or other tangible materials set next to the disc pressed with the same knight silhouette but with a buzzing blue outline. At feature length, “Scream of the Blind Dead” would have been too long with Alexander’s stylistic outlet but at a crisp 40 minutes has a greater success rate for a not rated, region free releases that mostly lambent lights and ethereally evil sans actor dialogue.

Last Rites: “Scream of the Blind Dead” is not blind to the Ossorio source material and captures the core center of the Spanish director’s picture of history crusades on the ignoble never dies while Chris Alexander twists into it a fever dream of sexual fervor, slenderized for a post-impressionist style.

“Scream of the Blind Dead” Now on DVD!