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Is Your Disturbing Library This EVIL? “Reality Killer” review! (Treasured Films / Blu-ray)

Posted by Steven Lewis on

“Reality Killers” Entering the U.S. Torture Porn Market! Buy it Here!

Serial killer known as “The Sculptor” narrates his obsession and love with documenting the stalking, capturing, torturing, raping, and killing of his victims.  As he watches and video tapes his next target, Mary, from afar, a woman he’s chatted with online extensively about recording home snuff movies, The Sculptor opens up his personal library of snuff movies, labeled and numbered dark web bought tape cassettes exhibiting the videoed brutal deaths of strangers by strangers for their pure sordid joy of taking another life.  An adventurous couple lure a promiscuous young girl on the promise of a threesome, a group of three masked teens take pleasure in the torture of a young woman, a couple enticement a child to their backyard pool, father and son roam the streets for call girl action and a little home invasion, and an underground, all-female rock band’s music video takes male fans to new extremes.

A title and a film unabashed and fully accepting the phrase torture porn, as if it’s a pithy elucidative to be proud of, “Reality Killers” is a shot-on-video, found footage anthology and snuff horror from 2005 helmed by “Witch Story” director and “Body Count” writer Alessandro Capone.  The Italian production contains shorts and a wraparound story that connects them together in an ugly tale of sadism, written by four aspiring, young filmmakers in Pablo Dammicco (“A Deadly Compromise”), Francesco Maria Dominedò (“Dedalus”), Volfango de Biasi (“Help!  My In-Laws Are Vampires”), and a writer simply known as Zedd with Alessandro Capone also contributing with his own screenplay while project managing filmic newcomers as they shoot mostly in Los Angeles using American actors.  Alternatively known under the title of “Project K,” the 2005 film of nihilistic sadism is produced by Eagles Pictures’ Ciro Dammicco and Pablo Dammicco and executively produced by Luca Dammicco and Fabrizio Manzollino.

“Reality Killers” is one of those rare breed films that shares a connection with pictures 70+ years it’s senior with having no after credits.  With no before or after cast credits, acknowledging the cast and their ignoble roles is a challenge to say the least.  If fact, it’s impossible.  The wraparound segment with The Sculptor has some clarifying character elucidation online connected to one of the more well-known Italian extreme violence and horror filmmakers in modern times with Domiziano Cristopharo, director of the surrealistic yet broad-stroked with intense visceral “Confessions of a Necrophile Girl” and “House of Flesh Mannequins,” in a role credited as The Monk.  However, there seems to be some melding overlap between The Monk and the large, oiled-up, and masked concentrated sadist on screen in the wraparound story, played by Valter D’Errico, in a disturbing show of vain and perverse expression.  Alongside D’Errico, in a handful of scenes of being stalked around a metropolitan city and in a naked position of vulnerability on D’Errico’s slab of slaughter, is Cristina Puccinelli (“Phantasmagoria”) playing as the aspiring snuffer enthusiast and killer as well as the online conversationalist Mary who turns prey to her own betrayal going against and essentially humiliating a masterclass maniac like the oily and masked maniac.  After that and within the shorts, none of the other actors are repeated or credited for their work that waver between being exaggeratedly overacted and staged to the point of disingenuous means and the thought of the inflicted violence that spur a subtle creepiness.

The trouble with “Reality Killers” is the inherent topsy-turvy post-production that revamped the anthological storyline with a linear outer story with an anthological storyline connected with a threadbare connected wraparound.  Initially story structured with a sheriff unearthing a library of snuff films and going through selected VHS examples of the killer’s cache with a journalist to explicate the rare breed of butcher.  The videos were also lengthier, more narratively in depth of character and plotline, and have digestible connective tissue with the main shell story that’s redesigned for a body round and glistening, conventionally narcissistic, masked chatterbox, “The Sculptor,” who’s just a physical and commanding orb of a presence in a dark and grimy setting, spouting a deluge of devilish details about his devotion to snuff filmmaking and his own contribution to the perversion.  The told tales vary in degree of both explicit violence as well as story structure as some become more glimpses than a perusal of a three act analog anecdotes to which, in all fairness, found footage, especially pulled from VHS, are only short-lived windows into the lives of others, literally short-lived.  The vignettes are mostly hyper concentrated on the gore, leaving little room for a yard to build, lengthen, and become deeper to invest audiences when the decisive moment comes to take a life with sociopathic heartlessness.  However, “Reality Killers” pales in comparison to the likes of others, such as Fred Vogel’s “August Underground” features that really hammer down on violence and gore with sickening special effects and concentrated shock.  Capone’s entry into the niche subgenre feels reversed at times, never really going for gold in the gutting of precious human life, but the film still evokes a visceral response to the extreme content. 

“Reality Killers” arrives into the U.S. market hailing from the UK label Treasured Films, squeezing itself into the ever tightening commerce of boutique distributors.  Treasured Films’ debut special edition Blu-ray is MPEG-2 AVC encoded, 1080p high-definition resolution, BD50 is presented in a 1.33:1 aspect ratio and either scanned through a VHS record or implements a VHS or commercial handheld camera filer to achieve that passé effect that’s slowly making an aesthetic comeback.  There’s not a ton of other stylistic options used in the vignettes to instill a realism effect and result while the wraparound ups the contrast and grades darkly into its grim substance, leaving attenuated tones of yellows, greens, and reds to be coloring that seep through the oily voids.  The featured presentation carries more of the filtered aspects but in the special features’ Original Production Scenes, the alternate telling of “Reality Killers” embarks on a cleaner, conventional approach in the different outer story with the vignettes either slightly less boxed in by a matte or are outright more defined.  The audio track is an English DTS-HD stereo.  Though an Italian production, the vignette actors are primarily American and the wraparound story is voiced over.  Dialogue coincides with an onboard camera mic that picks up every little detail but also captures varying degrees of volume.  Discerning clarity is, must I say, pretty excellent for the differing sub-productions without an overbearing lopsidedness that usually stems with some who don’t have the technical knowhow to engineer audio precision; each episode achieves what’s strived for without interference, or even with the physical release, compression issues.  English subtitles are available.  Special features include a new interview with director-producer Alessandro Capone From Witch Lore to Snuff Gore in Italian only with English subtitles, a new interview with coproducer Gabriele Pacitto A Killing Reality in Italian only with English subtitles, a new English language essay by Giacomo Calzoni Cutting Deep :  Mapping the Origin of Torture Porn which takes a look at films like “Saw” and “Hostel” that generated the coining of descriptor torture porn and how it influenced horror pop culture, a teaser trailer, storyboards, and an image gallery.  The Original Production Scenes I’ve mentioned previously tells a completely different story and, in my opinion, is more interesting with longer story sequences, more nudity and gore, and the first vignette is scored with music from Nine Inch Nails, specifically “Dead Souls” from The Crow soundtrack, which adds another element to the coarse-riddled subject matter.  Treasured Films standard special edition set comes in a rigid slip box with a hazed face of the masked Sculptor.  The clear Amaray case houses new Ilan Sheady illustrative, compilation cover art in all its explicit detail with the same art pressed onto the disc.  Inserted is a 31-page color booklet with film stills, Blu-ray acknowledgments, and a David Flint essay “The Forbidden Films of the 21st Century” that discusses the films banned in Britian, which includes “Reality Killers’ rejected by the BBFC.  The all-region release has a runtime of 75-minuts and is, obviously, not rated.

Last Rites: Torture porn snuff films are, for a lack of a better world, repetitive in their controversial narrative and “Reality Killers” is no exception but it’s the style choices that and effects that entertain us or makes the sweat run down our brow. Alessandro Capone’s entry to torture porn has a visceral bite but isn’t the repulsive best-of-the-worst. Yet, Treasured Films’ entry into U.S. market is remarkably unforgettable.

“Reality Killers” Entering the U.S. Torture Porn Market! Buy it Here!

The Empire of EVIL Reduced to Prostitution, Corruption, and a Wasteland. “Gate of Flesh” reviewed! (88 Films / Blu-ray)

Posted by Steven Lewis on

88 Films’ “Gate of Flesh” Now Available in the U.S.!

The American occupation of Japan post-World War II was the result of not only the Iwo Jima atomic bomb but also the relentless destruction of carpet-bombing Tokyo.  Left in near ruins and swarming with the presence of American soldiers, the Japanese people have disseminated into gangs and territories for financial gains and power.  For Kanto Komasa, she and her gang of highly motivated women prostitute themselves for sex-starved American soldiers to accure money for Paradise, the future name of their bomb-ruined, leftover-skeletal building structure revamped into an elegant dance hall where they run the show.  When a rival male gang threatens their business, another all-woman gang challenges them, an inducted outsider betrays them, and a bloodied stranger is found inside their bombed out homebase, all with the Americans military police continuously rounding up prostitutes nightly, Komasa and her gang must walk the paved road through Hell to scratch and claw toward Paradise, even if that means going against their set principles.

Since the end of the World War II Pacific campaign, Japanese novelist Taijirô Tamura’s “Gate of Flesh” has been filmically adapted a handful of times just after the war in 1947.  In 1948, directors Masahir Makino and Ozaki Masafusa first adapted the novel, followed by the Seijun Suzuki version in 1964 and Shōgorō Nishimura’s adaptation in 1977.  In this review, Hideo Gosha’s “Gate of Flesh,” also known as “Carmen 1945,” moves from samurai period actioners, such as “Sword of the Beast,” “Three Outlaw Samurai,” and “Samurai Wolf,” and into a yakuza era of storytelling that came on strong in the 1980s.  “Gate of Flesh” is no different with plenty of yakuza tropes without actually affirming the term in the dialogue.  Gosha’s tale provides more glamour, style, and substance, especially around themes of inner turmoil under outsider control and the divine praise for an enemy-built weapon of destruction, from a screenplay by prolific writer Kazuo Kasahara of “Hiroshima Death Machine” and “Yakuza Graveyard.”  The Toei Company production is produced by Shigeru Okada (“Inferno of Torture”).

“Gate of Flesh” has the interweaving stories of an ensemble with the various faceted chess piece pawns aimed to promote themselves, by cutthroat and sordid means, to a higher degree of social status and wealth improvement like queens and kings within a crummy economical and degraded societal Tokyo commune of prostitution, gambling, and survival.  There are also a few other pieces stealthier knighted behind enemy lines with more noble goals in mind.  While different storylines unfold and merge, Kanto Komasa becomes the generally sensed centerpiece, played by Rino Katase of previously directed Gosha films, “Yakuza Ladies” and “Tokyo Bordello.”  Her preparedness to take on the “Gate of Flesh” role as the female-led gang leader promising Paradise has been success before of her previous performances in Gosha’s films that contain similar traits but Katase delivers a powerhouse, immensely conflicted, act as Komasa’s hopes and dreams to dig herself out of poverty and into high-class are thwarted by deceptive ranks, a haunting past, and, of course, the more present occupation troubles of inner city gang-on-gang wardom, battling advances, negotiates, and the potential for mediation between fellow gang leaders Yoshio Hakamada (Jinpachi Nezu, “Ran”), who wants her building that’ll be lucrative in the future, and Rakucho no Osumi (Yūko Natori, “Stranger”).  Of course, there’s more to bereft Komasa’s mind with the sudden wounded appearance and peculiarity familiarity of stranger Shintaro Ibuki (Tsunehiko Watase, “The Rapacious Jailbreaker”) who has protective parallelism with the 2-ton bomb that also acts as a rival gang repellant and an explosive safety net for Komasa.  Secondary characters provide a layered depth to Hideo Gosha’s charismatic and gender-battling narrative with Miyuki Kanō, Yūko Natori, Senri Yamazaki, Shinsuke Ashida, Naomi Hase, Chie Matsuoka, and Yoshimi Ashikawa.

Surreal like a dystopian science-fiction and wasteland thriller, “Gate of Flesh” has that otherworldly, alternate reality appeal accentuated by Hideo Gosha’s colorfully grim realism that doesn’t convey truth or fact.  In fact, “Gate of Flesh” is very much rooted in reality, truth, and fact in regard to U.S. occupation of Japan after the country’s surrender between 1945 and 1952.  This drops a non-fictionalized period as “Gate of Flesh’s” backlot, corroded by the illicit prostitution that spread to satisfy and bank off allied forces.  Gosha’s film is a game of wits amongst crooks and connivers while the developing sympathy envelopes around the seemingly tough of nails Kanto Kamase with a violin-pining and sympathetic backstory colliding with the injured Colt Shin aka Shintaro Ibuki.  Ibuki himself has history, or perhaps even beef history, with the iron rule of Hakamada, but through thick and thin, Ibuki’s clearly maneuvering the chess board around protecting Kamase for clued in reasons only to be precisely unveiled near the end.  The American presence doesn’t even feel weighty, reduced to hooker johns, voiceless military police, and a one uncouthly boisterous and unpleasant Sergeant to become the poster boy from Japan’s perspective of the occupational paradigm. Other than that, the U.S. forces are background noise, a sidestepped component of a much bigger, domestic ordeal amongst the Japanese people but are still the cause of so much heartache, gangsterism, and civil war.  Sex is also a huge theme as strictly a monetary activity rather than a joyful expression of romance and liberating relief from oppression, which there is none from U.S. forces.  Kazuo Kasahara’s script skirts around the inkling of affection between two people as much of everything else is for ostentatious and desperation means in a time when there was not much else to hold onto in Tokyo after suffering defeat, aside from ruined property, cash for hope, and tattoos to honor the past. 

88 Films proudly presents “Gate of Flesh” from their UK catalogue to their quickly growing US list of titles.  The AVC encoded, 1080p high-definition, BD50 is the first home video release for the rest of the world outside of Japan with a limited-edition release, presented in the original aspect ratio of 1.85:1 widescreen.  Hideo Gosha’s style brilliance flourishes with this impeccably detailed and graded release that pedestals a rich and sustaining color palette.  The stabilization of color extends to the details as textures pop from the screen, especially in Kamase’s gang where each one has a distinct color flair and different pattern design to have them stand out amongst each other in a story that’s greatly character-individualized aware and often tangents into side characters to be worked into the parent plot.  No compression issues to note, day and night transitions have equal clarity and depth, and the Gosha and Yuko Morita’s aesthetic brings the stylistic aspects to the forefront without taking away from the schemes of skin tones and milieu details in the set design of a tumbledown Tokyo.  The Japanese LPCM 2.0 Mono mix diffuses perfectly into the single channel fold and aligns well with the picture, casting synchronous UK English optional subtitles that only had a single misspelling that I had caught.  “Gate of Flesh” has plenty of range and depth captured precisely on this 88 Films release that doesn’t show signs of audio layer wear or any compression issues.  The summiting explosion capitalizes the full potential of the mix with a story grand exit designed to be immersive as possible in its limited capacity through an assistant of visual means.  The special features include an audio commentary by film critics and analysts Amber T and Jasper Sharp, critic Earl Jackson provides an introduction on the many adaptations of Taijiro Tamura’s “Gate of Flesh” with timelines, history, and his own preference accompanied by stills, posters, and video clips, an exclusive interview with tattoo artist Seiji Mouri Flesh & Blood Tattoos who doesn’t view the Gosha’s work as a yakuza-spiced, and rounds out the content with a still gallery and a pair of trailers.  The limited-edition and numbered set, that includes an Obi strip over top a commissioned illustrative composition covert art by Ilan Sheady and housed in a clear Scanova case, contains a 23-page booklet with color photos and posters and essay notes by Robin Gatto and Irene González-López.  The cover art has a reversible side with the original Japanese poster.  Only playable in region A and B, the not rated 88 Films disc comes not rated and with a 119 runtime.

Last Rites: “Gate of Flesh” bears the weight of Taijiro Tamura’s prostitution-laden tale of survival, revenge, and hope with Hideo Gosha’s cinematic eye that captures the beauty and indomitability in the badlands of the occupied proud.

88 Films’ “Gate of Flesh” Now Available in the U.S.!

Business and Pleasured are Ruined by EVIL’s Obsession! “Tulpa: Demon of Desire” reviewed! (MVDVisual / DVD)

Posted by Steven Lewis on

“Tulpa: Demon of Desire” Now on DVD!

Lisa Boeri is a career-driven businesswoman successful in locking down deals and achieving financial gains in a fast-paced, no-holds barred global market as she slaves away from dawn to dusk at the office, but when the sun goes down, Lisa releases the stresses of occupational hazards and her thirst for carnal desires at an exclusive, hidden-away nightclub where sexual fantasies range from BDSM to orgies while esoteric mystic and club owner Kiran trains her to release her Tulpa, an inner being of sensual self-exploration and freedom, through ecstasy elevating drugs.  When Lisa comes across printed news reports of her club sexual partners being brutally murdered by a serial killer, she must warn Kiran and her last partner before another body makes the press but Kiran isn’t too keen on making public private identifying information that goes against club rules and Lisa must do whatever it takes to investigate who and why would want to murder her intimate encounters. 

“Tulpa:  Demon of Desire” is a contemporary giallo from “Shadow” and “The Well” director Federico Zampaglione attempting his hand at the sordid Italian genre that has come to cult infamy over the past few decades with a regained revival and following on physical media.  Zampaglione co-wrote the script with father, Domenico Zampaglione, and Giacomo Gensini, the writing collective’s second collaboration behind the 2009 thriller “Shadow.”  Also known in Italian as “Tulpa:  perdizioni mortali,” the 2012 erotic giallo is a glow up of the everyday modern giallo that doesn’t try as hard as other productions that lean strictly toward being an homage to notable films and directors, “Nightmare Symphony” comes to mind as a compliment to Lucio Fulci’s “Cat in the Brain,” aka “Nightmare Concern” with a fairly identical storyline, rather than be self-serving toward its own identity within the subgenre context.  The producer behind Tinto Brass’s “Cheeky” and Zampaglione’s “Shadow,” Massimo Ferrero, returns to produce “Tulpa:  Demon of Desure” under his studio company Blu Cinematografica and IDF, Italian Dreams Factory.

At the center of a murder’s relentless focus is conservative promiscuous lead character, Lisa Boeri, played by Claudia Gerini who has had roles in Mel Gibson’s “Passion of the Christ” and Chad Stanhelski’s “John Wick:  Chapter 2” as well as reteaming with Zampaglione for his last film “The Well.”  Gerini’s versatility proves its worth in “Tulpa” as Boeri’s required to be business professional and quick witted and then is contrasted against her carnal rendezvous that’s no longer has in control of herself.  There’s a freedom from the business shackles that takes place but when her night world comes crashing down in a heap of bodies, Boeri finds herself unable to focus on anything else other than the lives of her anonymous sleeping partners.  Club owner Kiran (Nuot Arquint, “Shadow”) is a bit of an odd bohemian duck with his psychosomatic holistic spirituality and the biochemical, psychedelic drugs he pours into his clients’ drinks.  The rest of the Italian cast are a series of rotating characters that, unfortunately, don’t flesh out enough to warrant when becoming intertwined into a killer’s web with to note Ivan Franek (“T.M.A.”) as the last sex-partner to be a killer’s crosshairs and Boeri has to save, Frederica Vincenti as Beori’s envious coworker out for her colleague’s scandal, and Michela Cescon (“I Am the Abyss”) as Boeri’s best friend outside of work and play as well as Pierpaolo Lovino, Michele Placido (“The Pyjama Girl Case”), Giorgia Sinicorni (“Canepazzo”), and Piero Maggio (“The Vatican Exorcisms”) rounding out the rest of supporting company.

Zampaglione’s giallo attempt is coursed with suspense with a masked, gloved killer targeting a beautifully flawed woman complicated by her own sexual exploration and reach inside a world that’s viewed as taboo as it is tantalizing with sexual delight.  The director fashions Boeri’s alternative and secretive lifestyle as a self-harming vice, much the same way as illegal drugs or excessive alcohol, done in the shadows and hidden from friends and family.  There’s a moment in the midst of Boeri’s desperation search for her last partner’s name where an adversarial colleague learns of her sex club nightlife and aims to expose her, turning her private venture public through means of blackmail.  Eventually, more than one type of obsession over Boeri comes into play and the bodies pile up because of the unhealthy nature of the meddlesome and malevolent.  Though taut when tension bred from a killer whose maniacal plan involves and extends to a torturous and gruesome end against those hovering in Beori personal bubble, a couple of key catalysts are not cleared very well.  One of the individual obsessions over Boeri falters right at the end with a quick cut that doesn’t allow breathing room for comprehension of what went down and, perhaps one of the more complexing and important outliers that strays off the narrative from off the straight and narrow, a supernatural sign of power, perhaps the Tulpa force in practice, that gives the story a taste of Lucio Fulci giallo, such as “The Psychic.”  Yet this revelation of an ability receives lukewarm reception that cases the story’s drive into a wait-a-minute of mystical puzzlement. 

“Tulpa:  Demon of Desire” arrives onto DVD from MVDVisual in association with Danse Macabre and Jinja Films.  The upscaled from 720 to 1080p MPEG-2 encoded DVD9 is presented in a widescreen 1.78:1 aspect ratio.  Bathed in warmer tones of yellow, green, and red that often blend into a confluence of orange, Guiseep Maio’s noir dark veneer engages a sordid world of sophisticated sleaze and maniacal murder, creating a side-by-side dualism of Boeri’s day-and-night lifestyles.  Details are soft for this upscaled DVD as if the format slightly shimmers to keep focus on textures and delineations, the vibrant gel coloring for eliciting illicit behaviors doesn’t help either, but the release manages to produce a discernible image without the strain of compression issues and still convey Zampaglione’s visual aesthetic of a darker, viscus blood, heated shades of fervor, and a higher contrast to intensify shadows.  The English and Italian PCM 5.1 Surround Sound mix caters to the score and dialogue layers rather than creating worlds with ambience audio.  Though the dialogue is not listed as Italian on the DVD backside, there is a sizeable chunk of the dialogue in Italian with English subtitles, but the feature is mostly in a heavily accented English language.  The overall dialogue is clean without interference other than the accents and is prominently positioned, but still integrated in, amongst the other layers with a timed Francesco Zampaglione (last name incorrectly misspelled on the DVD back cover with missing the I in Zampaglione) and Andrea Moscianese exotically haunting score that works to not overpower the dialogue and plays into the sex-club and giallo themes  English subtitles appear to have no flaws and are paced well.  For a side note, I would suggest using the English subtitles to get through the Italian accents that can be challenging at times with certain actors.  Special features include a “Tulpa” behind-the-scenes featurette that interviews cast and crew, the official trailer, and two trailers for two other Federico Zampaglione productions – “Shadow” and “The Wall.”   The MVDVisual DVD release is a perfect example of less is more with a black background with a contrasting silver and intrinsically cracking Venetian mask and white logo with a blood-tipped spear.  The standard, region free, rated R release comes with no other physical or encoded attributes in its 84-minute runtime.

Last Rites: Honestly, a kill-focus blood overtakes the slim waist of sex in what’s supposed to be a blend of both motifs as the title suggests in”Tulpa: Demon of Desire,” but this modern-day giallo from those who did the niche subgenre the best, the Italians, is still worth viewing calories.

“Tulpa: Demon of Desire” Now on DVD!

Are You Ready for EVILLLLL! “Visceral: Between the Ropes of Madness” reviewed! (Unearthed Films / Blu-ray)

Posted by Steven Lewis on

Step Into the Ring with “Visceral: Between the Ropes of Madness” On Blu-ray!

A low-ranking boxer is set up with a match of a lifetime.  Quiet but confident, his manager doesn’t exactly have a faith in the underdog, constantly questioning his training with gambled money on the line.  When the boxer is beaten to a pulp in the ring, he’s immediately disowned by the unsympathetic manager and spirals out of his training and into darkness, finding murdering young women to be more pleasurable than the pain of loss and rejection.   His darkness in death incites a demon, perhaps even the Prince of Darkness himself, if the form of a half-naked woman with a distorted face and places him under her ward, forcing him into submission of pain and suffering while also commanding him to collect souls for her through his own tasting menu of torture.  The boxer’s life is told in three different stages of time on how he becomes evil’s most prized champion.

Accurately titular described, “Visceral:  Between the Ropes of Madness” pushes deviant instinct over everything else, a formidable urge to listen and adhere to those intrusive thoughts, especially after one’s lifelong goal, their most prized position, is creamed and squashed for good and forever in a humiliating way.  Writer-director Felipe Eluti uses hopelessness as pure evil’s plaything, turning a dedicated fighter being managed by Hell for the sake of not only revenge but also to fill the emptiness of the Netherworld with tortured souls.  The Chilean born and film schooled Eluti debut feature also enacts him to star as the demented boxer in a gore-soaked, ringside performance that moderately excites and intensifies with rope bondage as one of his character’s key motifs.  The extreme exploitation thriller is under the producing team of Sebastián Amenábar, Cristóbal Rivera, Andres Palma, and Daniel Vivanco.

Felipe Eluti is a one-man steamroller as the unnamed boxer leaving a laid-to-waste corpse trial in his wake.  Going virtually pantomime through the entire quasi-plotted narrative, Eluti conveys an apathy through blood and body language as well as utilizing his unsettling glare underneath different stages of head and facial hair growth from his time as a slimmed down, smooth-shaven boxer to a Curly-do’d, five o’clock shadowed, and expressionless shell of a human being.  From an outsider’s characteristic perspective, the boxer can be considered pathetic by preying down upon and torturing to kill smaller women in what is almost a result of retaliatory motivation after his brutal loss and he literally uses their bodies as his personal punching bags of stoic anger and hate.  The demon also presents itself in the form of a woman named Judas (Carolina Salles), cladded in bondage ropes, speaks in a whispery, omnipotent voice and visits him with a twisted face to represent the evil, or even the ugliness, she embodies, or the boxer sees in all his feminine victims.  Personified as a woman who tortures, beats, and verbally belittles him into a pacifistic submission only amplifies his dark crusade of soul collection.  Other than the boxer’s manager, a porn addicted, condescending loudmouth by José Manuel García, the remaining cast is filled with fleetingly visited torture victims, mostly women who are also voiceless and have little-to-no fight in them until the boxer works up to courage near the end for revenge which he can call his own, and Gabriela Aranchibia, Valentina Varela, Tamara Zuñega, Daniela Pardo, Pia Cardenas, Claudia Mena, Carolina Palacios, and Felipe Ruiz fill in those fated roles. 

While Felipe Eluti’s boxing themed gory shocker and exploitation rope-a-dope is definitely not a Rocky Balboa prime time fight film, “Visceral:  Between the Ropes of Madness” favors severe mental deterioration over an underdog beating the odds with glorifying the ultra-violence.  The strange-faced Judas pertains only to the Boxer’s vision or presence, conjured by feeding off the fighter’s anguish and indoctrinating him through pain, suffering, abuse, torture, and the most horrible like to do the demon’s bidding without resistance or fear.  The boxer’s kidnap and slasher traits shows a motif dominance over women that could possibly stem from most of the Freudian theorized root of a lot of evil doing, mother issues.  Supporting this scenario is the boxer’s visit to his mother.  Face never shown within the thicket of a deep shadow and directed toward a glowing television set, the avoided boxer seeks self-satisfaction approval and support from presumably his one and only blood relation on this planet, but the attentive mother denounces him, rejects him, and belittles his existence as the worst thing to ever happen to her just before his big match.  Eluti’s arthouse direction focuses on the boxer’s lack of love, support, and concern for his wellbeing and uses that the-world-vs-me detestation as a fuel and resupplied by his submission to Juda’s verbal and physical abuse to carry on his hate-filled and apathetic tear of women.  

Unearthed Films, a leader in producing and distributor extreme, ultra-violent and gory movie content brings “Visceral:  Between the Ropes of Madness” into the squared circle with a new Blu-ray release of Chilean production.  The single layered BD25 is AVC encoded and presented in a high-definition, 1080p resolution, with a widescreen 1.77:1 aspect ratio.  Cinematographer Tomas Smith’s approach to the content serves up stark and severe drab with a lifeless parallel to the apathy spree of the Boxer’s dark undertaking.  Heavy on grays and browns, there’s hardly any pop of aesthetic style or color but is counterbalanced by some interesting just obscure or to the side framing that ignite more imagination than having the scene spelled out for you.  There are also other interesting visuals with Judas and inside the Boxer’s mental state that don’t allow much in the way if finer details but allure to and speak of motivation and context.  The divided darkness through provides plenty of opportunities for compressions issues on a lower capacity disc compression but there’s not a whole lot to speak in way of artefacts.  The Spanish PCM 2.0 mix plays the familiar tones of an arthouse gore film by giving more stock to the soundtrack than to the dialogue.  While the dialogue is apparent despite the Boxer saying very little and Judas’s voice done in post, composer René Roco has free reign to be industrially glum above the whimpers, cries, and screams of the Boxer’s tortured women.  Ambient action is perceived post-product separation as the sounds don’t necessary match or synch in frame with the carnage and the environmental ambience is reduced to near nothing with low levels murmurs of city life stock sounds in the exterior scenes.  The English subtitles appear accurate and match well with in-scene prattle.  Extras include a commentary with director Felipe Eluti, a post-showing speech at the Cineteca Nacional’s Massacre in Xoco, Mexico City circa 2013, a behind-the-scenes gallery, and a teaser trailer.  The reverse cover liner art inside the clear Amaray case has barely safe for work primary of the mad Boxer and a bloodied woman bound in rope and a not safe for work cover that focuses on a bare-chested and rope bound Judas, both in contrasted to a deep inky void background.  There are no insert liner supplements and the disc is pressed with the same NSFW cover art image.  The not rated, region A encoded release has a runtime of 76 minutes.

Last Rites: Glorifying hopelessness through violence, “Visceral: Between the Ropes of Madness” is a round-for-round degression from failure through the dreary lens of director Felipe Eluti and his kink for rope bondage that sets forth an unstable champion amongst the maidenly defeated.

Step Into the Ring with “Visceral: Between the Ropes of Madness” On Blu-ray!

With Fame Comes Absurd EVIL Exploitation. “A Tale of Sorrow and Sadness” reviewed! (Radiance Films / Limited-Edition Blu-ray)

Posted by Steven Lewis on

Limited Edition Blu-ray of “A Tale of Sorrow and Sadness” Now Available!

To compete against a rival fashion magazine who found profound success after hiring a famous gymnast as their spokesmodel, an ambitious fashion company sees potential in amateur golfer Reiko Sakuraba with her beauty, grace, and a decent enough golf game.  The only problem is Reiko has not won a championship.  The fashion company representative and Reiko’s sport’s columnist writer/manager/boyfriend Miyake strike a deal to get intensely train and mentally exhaust Reiko to be the best by the next tournament.  When Reiko outperforms the tournament’s veteran players, she instantly becomes a fashion icon and celebrity that leads to her own show for the magazine, photoshoots, and a large house in the middle of the suburbs.  Miyake’s aloof behavior continues even after Reiko’s success and while he drives her back home, he hits-and-runs a woman form the neighborhood who blackmails and guilts Reiko into letting her into the rich and famous lifestyle.  Reiko’s mental health slowly declines as pressures mounts.

“A Tale of Sorrow and Sadness” is a tale of how the sudden rise of fame and fortune can quickly lead to world of hurt through inexperience, obsession, misguided love, abuse, and the day-to-day tasks that can even burden even the most common person.  The story also represents a dichotomy between fame and the mundane.  The 1977 Japanese surreal drama is helmed by Seijun Suzuki, a filmmaker once blacklisted by the head of Nikkatsu Studios after his film for the company, “Branded to Kill,” was deemed terrible by Nikkatsu execs, and rode the filmic bench for nearly a decade until his theatrical release of the Shochiku Ltd. Released production that allowed him the freedom for artistic expression.  Also concisely known as “A Tale of Sorrow,” the Suzuki picture is written by Atsushi Yamatoya based off manga by Ikki Kajiware and produced by Yoshiki Nomura, Kenzo Asada, and Tokuya Shimada.  

Yoko Shiraki steps into the tragic golf-cleated shoes of golfer-turned-spokesmodel Reiko Sakuraba who finds herself unknowingly being exploited as object of marketable objectification.  What’s interesting about Sakuraba is she’s totally alone amongst other adults in a real cutthroat and cruel way through her trajectory of success.  In the fashion world, the magazine representative behind the concept (Masumi Okada, “The Living Skeleton”) only wants her for her beauty and success, her boyfriend Miyake (Yoshio Harada, “Lady Snowblood 2:  Love Song of Vengeance”), and even an once starstruck housewife, Kayo Senba (Kyôko Enami, “Killer Whale”) who was struck by Miyake’s car and resents Reiko’s, blackmailing her way into the superstar golfer’s life by forcing her hand to relinquish all from her worldly possessions to her mind, body, and soul.  Shiraki gifts Sakuraba the fault of inability to say no with her innocence and naivety ravaged and exploited beyond the point of no return and beyond repair but Sakuraba clings to dear life, perhaps even sanity, because of tone person that too only reacts negatively around her but since their blood reaction is thicker in the watery connections manipulating her, Sakuraba’s hand is forced to do much all of the golfing and modeling hell for her adolescent younger brother Jun (Tetsu Mizuno), a smart yet reclusive boy with off screen aggression getting into fights with school bullies stemmed likely by his sister’s constant absence.  Sakuraba’s not only a slave to external obsessions of success, image, and greed but also a slave to internal obsessions with Mikyake who deprives her of the most basic primal needs for financial gain and for manipulative control.  Kôji Wada, Shûji Sano, Noboru Nakaya, sao Tamagawa, Tokie Hidari, and Jô Shishido co-star.

“A Tale of Sorrow and Sadness” is Seijun Suzuki’s tour de force return to feature films.  A linear narrative speckled with surrealistic doses creates an unsettling and bizarre atmosphere of strongarm manipulation on the unassertive character of Reiko Sakuraba.  Her raw talent is mined and minced without much consent and pushed past mental exhaustion and collapse in what is an all too true theme surrounding the early television era of celebrity branding with esteemed figures being puppets for large scale companies in order to sell their promoted products.  Money, image, and success steer the helm without any due remorse to the elegant centerpiece of the room, driving Suzuki’s social commentary to extreme levels of misappropriation of a human person with feelings and ambitions of their own.  Instead, Reiko’s meekness is measured by Suzuki’s fabricated milieu of mistreatment represented partly in a behavioralism of semi-surrealism – Miyake’s stoic aloofness, Senba’s brazen hijack of Reiko’s fame and wealth, and even Jun’s withdraw and reclusion are all good archetype of strange conducts illegitimizing Reiko as person.  She’s dehumanized so much so she stops whatever little rationality she had to begin with and becomes a vessel of command that allowed those around to walk all over her.  Suzuki’s suburban reach toward fame theme is satirical for “A Tale of Sorrow and Sadness’s” thin blanketing of dark comedy and the filmmaker often accentuates the moments with elongated sequences, randomized bits of eccentricity, and highly stylized contrasts of sex and violence as well as commercially sensationalized imagery versus Stepford wives’ expectations.

A bleak absurdist dream, “A Tale of Sorrow and Sadness” becomes rightly a part of the Radiance obscure, high level lineup with a new, limited-edition high-definition transfer Blu-ray release.  The AVC encoded, 1080p, BD50 receives the high definition transfer from the Shochiku Corporation, who currently distributes a fair amount of Anime and since “A Tale of Sorrow and Sadness” is adapted from a Ikki Kajiware’s Manga, the film fits right in, and is presented in by Radiance in the original aspect ratio of a widescreen 2.35:1.  Radiance’s image quality surpasses expectations as visually bold in a wide variety of contrasting colors, especially in primaries of yellow and reds juxtaposed against achromatic shades of brilliant whites and deep blacks.  The original print is beyond pristine with virtually no dust, dirt, scratches, or any kind of visual impediments in what appears to be a well-preserved 35mm reel.  Skin tones appear naturally organic and textures pop in their specific fabrics inside an overlay of natural stock grain for that bare-faced aesthetic of clear based film strip.  The Japanese uncompressed mono PCM audio, again, surpasses expectations with a diverse mix through a single output that creates excellent note individualism rather than an indistinct amalgam.  The omitted compression codec provides the original audio framework comfortably upholding against the test of time without a flurry of issues in the single layer.  Hissing, popping, crackling and other types of interference are kept either suppressed or to a bare minimal in another pristinely kept transfer.  ADR dialogue clearly affixes to the images with synchronous efforts being no worse compared to other films of the era out of Japan.  The newly improved English subtitles render without error, are compositionally more-or-less within syntax range of translation, and pace nicely throughout.  Special features include a new audio commentary by film historian and author Samm Deighan, a new interview with assistant editor Kunihiko Ukai, and the film’s trailer.  The clear Amaray case contains Sam Smith commissioned artwork on an obi-strip included reversible sleeve – primary cover composition is of a live still of exhausted Reiko Sakuraba lying next to a bunker with a spirally title font and the reverse cover is more NSFW with a partially nude Reiko with boyfriend Miyake portrayed in soft, dreamy glow.  The white and red disc is pressed with eye-pleasing contrast and the inserted 31-page color booklet provides cast and crew credits, essay “Sorrow, Sadness, and the Sweet Smell of Excess” by Radiance regular contributor Jasper Sharp, an archive essay “The Realisation of a Seijun Sizuki Film” by Atsushi Yamatoya, and the Blu-ray acknowledgements. “A Tale of Sorrow and Sadness” Radiance Blu-ray has a runtime of 93 minutes, is unrated, and since Radiance is a UK boutique label, collectors and film aficionados will get the best of both worlds with a region A and B playback.

Last Rites: Seijun Suzuki’s return to theatrical feature films with “A Tale of Sorrow and Sadness” is a remarkable comeback for the ages and the decade interruption didn’t even cause a missed step for his artistic expression of exploitation and consumerism control ruining young, raw talent which is a clear-cut archetype of sorrow and sadness.

Limited Edition Blu-ray of “A Tale of Sorrow and Sadness” Now Available!