Review Category: DVD/Blu Ray

Described by both audio commentaries as – ‘the Kung-Fu classic you’ve never heard of’, The Shaolin Plot is an interesting film, but a classic it isn’t. It’s noteworthy for containing every Hong Kong actor you’ve ever heard of and featuring Sammo Hung as a larger than life villain. However, it drags, with extended scenes bloating the runtime, and suffers from the lack of a full released protagonist.

Prince Daglen (Chan Sing) is trying to obtain Kung-Fu manuals from the four main sects of the martial world. He manages to obtain the Wudang manual, with the help of a renegade monk (Sammo, sporting long sideburns and a shaved head, a great look) but kills the leader in the process, with his son (James Tien) swearing revenge. The Prince then sets his sights on the Shaolin temple, infiltrating them as a deaf and mute beggar, complete with ridiculous bulging eye makeup, determined to steal their manual. You assume James Tien is the main character but he is absent for much of the film and is subbed when it comes to the end fight. It’s clear his handling of the action was lacklustre, with Sammo (also the action director) using Casanova Wong for the closing battle. Fans of the genre will recognise him from Warrior’s Two (also available from Eureka) and the Korean taekwondo expert doesn’t disappoint, delivering a masterclass in kicking techniques to defeat the Prince. Why wasn’t he in the film earlier?

The disc features commentary by the usual teams of Frank Djeng/Michael Worth and Mike Leeder/Arne Venema. They both mention the sometimes beautiful but long-winded shots of director Huang Feng, and how the film suffers because of it. It’s an interesting early insight into many actors’ careers, but it’s clear why The Shaolin Plot hasn’t been available until now. 

The Shaolin Plot is available on Blu-ray from Eureka Entertainment on June 20th. 

The original 1965 theatrical trailer for Amicus/AARU’s Dr Who and the Daleks promised that the terrifying mechanical monsters made famous in the then-new BBC family adventure serial Doctor Who would not only be on the big screen in glorious, vivid Technicolor but would also be “so close you can feel their fire.” This remarkable new 4K release from StudioCanal, sourced from the film’s camera negatives, finally makes good on the trailer’s promise for the first time for an audience viewing at home. Dr Who and the Daleks has never looked better; the colours pop from the screen, the film’s often-lurid palette really brings the blasted, eerie surface of the planet Skaro (in reality a soundstage in Shepperton Studios) and the metallic city of the Daleks (in their own multi-coloured glory) to startling life. If not for the slightly quaint and naïve nature of its storytelling, it really looks as if it was made in the last few years. Not for one moment does this look like a film released onto a Dalek-fevered British public nearly six decades ago.

Doctor Who fans, bless ‘em, have always had a conflicted and uncomfortable relationship with the film (and its 1966 sequel, Daleks Invasion Earth 2150AD) and many have wasted long, irreplaceable hours trying to work the films into the TV series impossibly-twisted continuity. The simple fact is that these were two cash-grab low-budget British sci-fi movies that existed purely to capitalise on the Dalekmania craze sweeping the country at the time and need to be viewed and enjoyed as such. They are, however,  both glorious, rollicking fun, short and snappy adventure movies that deliver all the large scale thrills and spills that the tinily-budgeted TV series could only dream of at the time. Here Dr Who (Peter Cushing) is an affable, slightly dotty scientist who has created his ramshackle TARDIS (its chaotic control room would give even Heath Robinson a  migraine) in the shape of a Police Box. Accompanied by his granddaughters Barbara (Jennie Linden), Susan (Robert Tovey) and Barbara’s bumbling new boyfriend Ian (Roy Castle), Dr Who’s accidental maiden voyage takes the TARDIS to a petrified forest on a  dead planet and when a strange, glittering city in the distance attracts his interest, Dr Who contrives a way to force the group to explore the lifeless buildings…leading to an encounter with the monstrous outer space robot people who are lying in wait.

Dr Who and the Daleks is great fun, a massive injection of pure nostalgia for those who remember the big screen thrill of seeing it at the cinema back in the 1960s and even those who have discovered it across the years and can set aside their critical faculties and enjoy it as a fast-paced, unpretentious romp aimed predominantly at children. The big, beefy Daleks have rarely looked better (or more numerous) and the film is packed with action, incidents, and imaginative spectacle thanks to a wonderfully-inventive production design that makes the Dalek city look cold and imposing and the petrified forest creepy and unwelcoming and Gordon Flemying’s punchy, zesty direction that makes the movie look far better-funded than it actually was. Dr Who and the Daleks is eighty minutes of unadulterated fun and this masterful 4K restoration is supported by familiar bonus material – the 1995 ‘Dalekmania’ documentary, commentary with Jennie Linden and Roberta Tovey, a Kim Newman/Mark Gatiss, Robert Shearman commentary previously only available on an American release and two brand new featurettes including a rather dry piece on the 4K restoration and Dalek Legacy in which Nick Briggs, Robert Shearman, and Mike Tucker are amongst those sharing their fond memories of these very special little movies. Die-hards will want the lavish collector’s edition that includes art cards, a booklet full of new essays, badges, posters etc.  It’s a truly Dalek-table collection.

Dr Who and the Daleks is released on 4K on June 20th.

In the early 1970s, the Pemini Organisation, formed by three film school graduates, released a short set of distinctive and very British movies. Key to their success was the partnership between the talents of screenwriter Michael Sloan and director Peter Crane. Made available for the first time on any home media, Powerhouse Films’ Blu-Ray boxset brings together this long-neglected trio of films.

The company’s first film Hunted (1972) is a tense and claustrophobic real-time thriller, lit up by excellent performances from Edward Woodward and June Ritchie. Assassin (1973) is the tale of a hard-bitten killer (Ian Hendry, on superb form) assigned a complex and morally murky London hit. A bigger production than Hunted, Pemini stepped up the scale even further for their final film Moments (1974), an acutely observed exploration of longing, nostalgia and lost hope. Moments features expertly judged performances from Keith Michell, as an accountant overwhelmed by grief following his family’s death, and Angharad Rees, as the vivacious young woman who interrupts his plan to take his own life. If there’s any theme unifying the three films, it’s that of a flawed middle-aged man wrestling with his personal demons as he grips a loaded gun.

The twin-disc set also offers an exhaustive list of well-produced special features exploring the short-lived Pemini phenomenon. These bring together the perspectives of cast, crew and critics, and track the careers of some of the industry talents for whom Pemini was a springboard. Painstakingly restored and beautifully presented, this package will only have niche appeal. But for enthusiasts of 1970s independent British cinema, this is a limited release not to be missed.

THE PEMINI ORGANISATION (1972-1974) is out now as a limited edition Blu-ray in the UK.

Having had something like fifteen different titles when originally released and distributed, sometimes known as Let Sleeping Corpses Lie and Don’t Open the Window, this film is best described by the title it’s most associated with, The Living Dead at Manchester Morgue. And for good reason, as one of the curious joys of this 1974 Spanish-Italian science fiction zombie horror film is its North of England setting, something which is both grounding and bizarre at the same time. More of that later.

When an accident forces strangers George and Edna to share a car journey towards the Lake District, they unwittingly become the central players in an accidental scientifically generated zombie outbreak and police investigation. The police mistake the pair as the killers. Can George and Edna stop the undead and prove their innocence before Manchester turns into zombie central?

There’s much to love about ‘The Living Dead at the Manchester Morgue’ from several perspectives. As a piece of ‘70s cinema, it has a charm achieved by its limited budget, sometimes wonky performances and absolutely terrible but hugely enjoyable dubbing. As a film set in the North of England but mainly shot in Italy, the incongruity of one-shot being in a quaint Lake District village followed by another where there are Mediterranean cypress trees everywhere is fascinating (and accounts for the poor dubbing, with obviously swarthy Italian actors being dubbed into broad Northern accents verging on comedic. So there’s a kind of campness to it, not least in the (surely gay) character of George (Ray Lovelock), which is a joy in itself.

But as a zombie film, this is terrific. Like Night of the Living Dead, it’s a film with a message, a warning, a societal context about what happens when man starts mucking around with nature, adding depth to proceedings. Director Jorge Grau not only emphasises atmosphere and allows time for the story to build, he also displays a real talent for tension and, when it comes, genuinely disturbing imagery including some very grisly deaths. The scenes in the morgue towards the end of the film are pretty nightmarish.

It’s the very definition of a cult classic and this Synapse Films Blu-ray release is an excellent 4K restoration with extras that include two audio mainly academic commentaries, two interviews with fx maestro Gianetto De Rossi and, best of all, a feature-length documentary about director Grau, exploring his life and films.

All of this makes this pretty much a must-have in anyone’s collection.

The Living Dead at Manchester Morgue is available on Blu-ray from Synapse in the US.

Robin Hardy’s now-classic film had numerous releases and, indeed, no fewer than three different iterations with varying lengths. Australian boutique label Imprint has released what could be the last word on the film with this four-disc box set. Not only is there the three cuts, but almost every documentary that has been made on the movie, and a CD containing Paul Giovanni’s mesmerising music.

The film itself should need no introduction, but in this writer’s opinion, it’s one of the greatest films ever made. The story of Sergeant Howie (Edward Woodward), who heads on a search for a reportedly missing girl on Summerisle, a remote island just off Scotland. He comes across a Pagan ideology, led by Lord Summerisle (Christopher Lee), which is much more sinister than the devout Christian could imagine.

As much a musical as a seminal folk horror movie, The Wicker Man has transcended the initial thoughts of critics and studio heads and has become one of the most-loved cult movies ever, and has a rightful place in the pantheon of British cinema, regardless of genre. So the film is untouchable, but what about the Imprint release?

Well, as mentioned, it brings together almost all the previous documentaries that have been made on the subject, which is fantastic. There is some repeated material as you’d expect, but everything is still fascinating and each has its own approach. There are also some new items, though, including a pair of fun and interesting commentaries, which sit nicely alongside the classic chat track that includes Hardy, Lee, and Woodward.

There are also some new interviews, which focus on the music and the symbolism of the film that are very interesting. The video essays that invariably accompany Imprint releases are also well worth a look, particularly Kat Ellinger’s dissection of the sexual and feminist revolution that fits in perfectly with the film’s themes.

Could the Imprint release of The Wicker Man be the definitive release of the film? We think so.

Based on the popular adult sci-fi magazine, this animated anthology is hit and miss when it comes to the stories but is still a visual delight.

The linking thread of the futuristic tales has a strange green orb, the Loc-Nar, a thing of pure evil from a distant planet cornering a young girl and recounting how life will be and has always been. Among the stories are a noir-style episode involving a cab driver who gets more than he bargained for on a night shift in a run-down New York. He gives as good as he gets though and is gloriously cynical. Other diversions include a trial of a space captain, which showcases a splendid variety of alien species, and a haunting battle involving a World War II B-17. There’s also a lot of sex and nudity (the majority of which is female). This is no kids’ cartoon!

With several art styles utilised, Heavy Metal is a bit of a hodgepodge of ideas and visuals. When it hits, it’s marvellous, and even at its lowest ebb, it’s interesting and watchable. The stories, as mentioned, are a mixed bag, but the four that lead into the main tale (the one with the scantily-clad woman riding a large bird) are relatively short. Most anthologies suffer with this problem. The film is the perfect representation of what the Heavy Metal magazine was at the time and the addition of the rock soundtrack provides some interesting needle drops, and it’s good that the music doesn’t overpower the on-screen action. The best use of music comes during a scene of rebellion when we hear the Ronnie James Dio-era Black Sabbath track The Mob Rules.

Umbrella’s Blu-ray features a vintage documentary that includes much of the talent behind the scenes and is very informative and enjoyable. There’s also a sequence that was cut that shows how the orb created all that was bad on Earth. While it’s a slim package extras-wise compared to some releases, it’s well worth a place in your collection.

Heavy Metal is available on Blu-ray from Umbrella Entertainment. 

Marking the 90 years since the release of Vampyr in 1932, this Masters of Cinema Blu-ray edition is the best restoration of the film available. It has a host of extras too in a beautifully packaged product, but is it worth buying if you already have previously released versions?

When a young man visits a small, isolated rural village, he soon realises that its residents are unknowingly in the grip of a monstrous force, a vampiric old woman, and her small cohort. The story focuses on a single family with whom the aristocratic young man is staying – one daughter has already been a victim of the vampyr and is fading under its influence, whilst the other is being lined up for the next meal… The man must find the source of the evil that’s overshadowing the family and the village in time to rescue the lives and the souls of the two sisters.

Whilst Vampyr is now regarded as an absolute trailblazing classic, it didn’t start its life like that. History has been generous to the film but, at the time, Vampyr was considered something of a disappointment and did not perform well. The film suffered from being on the cusp of the transition between silent and talking pictures, making the dialogue both sparse and clunky. On top of this, and despite being filmed and completed beforehand, Universal’s Dracula was released first, was an enormous hit and drained some of the blood from Vampyr’s release.

But there’s a reason why the film’s reputation has continued to grow. Dreyer’s Vampyr is a strange, unsettling nightmare of a film. It’s a simple tale, filmed to look and feel like a dream, its disconcerting imagery and style throwing the viewer off balance at all turns. The techniques Dreyer uses are ahead of their time, the camera swooping around, projection and double exposures creating ghostly shadows, and the whole thing feels like something you need to wake up from, a visual poem that brings on bad dreams.

Three scenes in particular still have the power to chill to the bone – the out of body experience which sees the young protagonist observing his own burial from inside the coffin, the utterly menacing moment where the vampyr part of the infected sister takes over and she starts to look upon her sibling simply as prey, and the quite horrific death of the Doctor, buried alive in a flour mill. These three scenes alone are enough to warrant the film’s reputation, but there’s so much more.

Whilst The film’s reception stopped Dreyer from making any more films for a decade, so influential was it that you can really see its impact on films as varied as Copolla’s Dracula and the neglected Polanski horror-comedy Dance of the Vampires.

As for the extras, most have been available on previous releases, including both commentaries, from critic Tony Rayns and from Guillermo del Toro, who absolutely adores this film. There’s a new but not too interesting interview with Kim Newman, a documentary about Dreyer himself and a fascinating look at The Baron. That’s Nicolas de Gunzburg, a wealthy gay aristocrat who agreed to support the film financially if he could have the lead role. It’s a brilliantly bizarre tale.

Owners of the Criterion Collection disc from 2017 need not fork out for this update but, if you’re new to Vampyr or just a completist, it’s well worth owning.

Vampyr is available on Blu-ray from Eureka Entertainment! on May 30th