Review Category: DVD/Blu Ray

Watching Monster Madness: The Gothic Revival of Horror from Midnight Marquee Press is very much like meeting up with an old school friend. You’ll talk about old times, reminisce about the fun you had, and tell stories of misspent youth. Then you’ll part ways.

The next time you meet you’ll have the same conversations all over again. It may well still be fun, but fun with a little sadness brought on by familiarity and knowledge you actually have little to really talk about.

This, the third in Midnight Marquee Press’ trilogy of nostalgic releases, rehashes many clips and interviews that you will have seen a hundred times before, and while they’ll make you smile just like that meeting with an old chum, after the film is over you’ll find yourself having wanted more. Nothing in this release is new or revealing, and as such is sadly quite dull. Greater satisfaction can be gained from surfing YouTube (other sites are probably available) as more interesting snippets are readily available, and with Hammer having its own channel, offers considerably more besides.

The interesting thing is that while the DVD sets out to be a trip down the monster memory lane, it quickly turns into a tribute to Christopher Lee, Peter Cushing and the home of British horror, Hammer Studios. All this does sound interesting, and is certainly poignant given the recent passing of Sir Lee, but this elongated montage serves less as a historical study of the genre and more as a quickly edited television documentary that tantalises while providing scant insight into the influential studio and its cast of loyal, legendary actors.

This edition of Monster Madness will appeal more to the transient horror, or Hammer, fan. For anyone with greater knowledge of the time period and of the monsters and characters that existed both in front of and behind the camera, this DVD will prove a little tiresome. If you happened across this while channel surfing late one Friday night upon returning from the local public house then you probably won’t turn it off. It certainly isn’t one you would seek out, and as such it’s difficult to imagine who it’s really aimed at or who will actually buy it.

MONSTER MADNESS: THE GOTHIC REVIVAL OF HORROR / CERT: TBC / DIRECTOR: JEFF HERBERGER / WRITER: A. SUSAN SVEHLA / STARRING: AARON CHRISTENSEN, KITLEY JON, DWIGHT KEMPER / RELEASE DATE: OUT NOW
 

Makoto (Miyuki Kuwano) is a seemingly innocent high school girl who enters into a relationship with an older student, Kiyoshi (Yusuke Kawazu), after he rescues her from some unwanted male attention. Ignoring advice from all around them, and flitting in and out of love, the pair settle on a brief and ultimately unsuccessful career of extortion-based crime before their whirlwind romance fractures and fails.

Set in a Japan still recovering financially and spiritually from the war, Ôshima’s film intentionally ignores the major events of the time to play out its own melodrama through the brief liaison between Makoto and Kiyoshi. All around them is a country rebuilding itself (rarely is there an outdoor scene where the sounds of workmen are not present), and the student riots that accompanied the signing of the 1960 U.S./Japan Security Treaty are gaining momentum. Ôshima, for the most part, ignores these close political influences, giving his leads an obsession with an influx of Western ideals that results in a greed that is ignorant of the consequences. These are characters where any sense of innocence has been taken from them, and the world they are trying to find a place in is brutal and confusing.

The relationship between Makoto and Kiyoshi is equally bleak, and equally thematic of the time. From the outset when he forces himself on her, with the clear impression he has stolen her virginity, it is difficult to understand Makoto’s obsession with the bullying, self-centred Kiyoshi. Over the short period of the relationship, the power does swing back and forth, with the headstrong Makoto gaining confidence from their crimes, but in the end, as their fate spirals towards a back street abortion and misery, it is clear a lack of happiness will seal their fate.

Aside from the unlikeable central pairing, it is the style with which Ôshima directs Cruel Story of Youth that may also prove divisive. At times it is wonderfully yet subtly expressive, focussing on the minutiae of a scene as sweaty tensions inevitably begin to rise. You feel as if you are there, in the moment as the camera switches from one character close up to another with each emotion plain to see. On other occasions it feels like Ôshima has lost control altogether and you struggle to see exactly what is going on. This does reflect the unpredictability of the narrative but also serves to draw you out of the drama somewhat.

There are times in Cruel Story of Youth when you’ll feel you are watching for some other reason other than enjoyment, as there is the background sensation that the film is in some way doing you good. This is a disservice to an important piece of work that showcases the unhindered rebellious nature of both filmmakers and an exuberant youth in 1960s Japan, but is sadly unavoidable. Time has not been kind to Ôshima’s film, and for most who approach it, it may prove to be a haphazard and impenetrable experience. Perseverance is required.

Special Features: New video interview with critic Tony Rayns / Trailer / 36-page booklet

CRUEL STORY OF YOUTH / CERT: 15 / DIRECTOR & SCREENPLAY: NAGISA ÔSHIMA / STARRING: MIYUKI KUWANO, YUSUKE KAWAZU, YOSHIKO KUGA, FUMIO WATANABE / RELEASE DATE: OUT NOW

 

Joe Anderson is John, a professional gambler whose speciality is dog racing. Always on the lookout for the next big tip, he falls in with bookie Stan (Anna Anissimova). Preying on his desperate search for a win, Stan leads John into a dangerous spiral of betting on ever-increasing stakes that threaten to destroy his life.

The games that Stan tempts John with range from the downright stupid to the ridiculously preposterous. From removing his own tooth to, and this may well be a spoiler, growing an ear on his stomach (yes, that’s right), the bets John make never feel in any way believable or ones that anyone with a modicum of sense would remotely entertain. The control exerted by the barking mad bookie is never at all convincing with Anissimova’s performance wavering between a camp pantomime dame and 1930s’ femme fatale, with neither demonstrating any depth or conviction, as if Anissimova herself can barely believe some of the words coming out of her mouth.

Without the frankly ridiculous Stan the film may have stood a chance. A little reality perhaps, a hint of genuine consequence to the life of a professional gambler may have grounded Flutter. It may also have provided some support to a strong central performance from Anderson, more familiar to audiences as Elijah Wood’s brother Terry in Horns or as Phineas in Hercules. You do get the sense that Anderson might actually have thought he was in a different film altogether as he delivers a convincing depiction of a man whose life is falling apart by his own hand, despite bouts of clunky dialogue. The remaining cast also chip in as best they can against a backdrop of the nonsensical, although Luke Evans is poorly underserved in his role but still fares considerably better than Ricky Tomlinson, who barely has a line to deliver – and let’s not even mention Billy Zane!

Sadly, Flutter is just too much of a mess to take seriously and will likely soon be found languishing at the bottom of your local supermarket’s bargain DVD bin. Even then, even for £1, it’s not worth a gamble.

 

When the Prince of Hell, Belial, loses the plot and tries to claim both Hell and Heaven as his own, Luzifer (Noah Hunter) commands Amon (Gerrit Reinecke) to stop him and stop an almighty kick-off between two realms which are embarked on a pact of peace. As Amon brings in the sex-mad (and comedic highlight) Samsaveel (Sebastian Ruckert initially, before the horned-up hellion takes on another form) to help with this mission, a war starts to brew as Belial runs amok and even takes out an angel. Those from above and those from below all start to make their way to Earth, as an almighty battle begins to simmer. The question is simply whether Amon and his sexed-up accomplice can put a halt to all of this before the world truly does go to Hell.

One of the huge plus points of Damned on Earth is that despite being ridiculously low-budget (as in it often comes across as almost a student film), the film always manages to have a light and breezy sense of freshness to it. Then again, on the flip side, by the time it gets to the second half then things really begin to drag and you find yourself hoping for the dramatic conclusion to pull its finger out and arrive like a bat out of Hell (Meatloaf TM).

Performance-wise, Gerrit Reinecke is great as the initial anchor of the film, and the character of Samsaveel steals the movie during any scene for which they appear. Initially played by Sebastian Rucket, Samsaveel still devours scenery when in other forms as the film progresses. Other than that, a lot of the other performances verge between awful and nearly average, although the effort of all should be commended and Ralf Kemper seems a director with promise.

And then there’s the comedy, which is a little too fleeting in decent quality when all is said and done. There are certain moments that will bring a smile to the face of most, but for a film that is labelled a horror-comedy by its creators, there seems little of either. Maybe the comedy is merely a case of “lost in translation”, and it is notable that there are certain errors in the subtitles of the film. As such, a little bit of slack has to be given on that front.

Overall, Kemper offers a lot of potential and promise going forward, but so many things ultimately fall flat here, resulting in a film with heart but just not quite the conviction to be anything more than so-so.

DAMNED ON EARTH / CERT: TBC / DIRECTOR: RALF KEMPER / SCREENPLAY: VARIOUS / STARRING: GERRIT REINECKE, SEBASTIAN RUCKERT, JULIA JUTTE, NOAH HUNTER, SVENJA GORGER / RELEASE DATE: TBC

The plot of this film, if it can indeed be called such, relies entirely on casting an envious look at 30 years’ worth of cinema and sampling the best parts without homage, awareness or even a hint of guilt. There are clear references to The Raid, to Braindead, to Mad Max: Beyond Thunderdome. Nods to Gladiator and Romero’s zombie back catalogue are frequent, with the titular Fight Club only getting scant attention in a final third that bears no real connection to what has gone before. Instead of moulding a narrative that makes any kind of sense at all, Chien has instead chosen to populate his film with as much blood and boobs as possible. Scarcely a scene passes in the opening third without an act of violent, often uncomfortably voyeuristic sex or over-the-top gory violence that tries to intimidate its audience but simply, slightly tragically, just bores.

The two leads, Andy On and Jessica C, clearly cast solely for their looks, are at least better at the acting lark than the majority of the cast who fortunately never actually last too long. Andy’s story shadows that of Rama from The Raid, only with less convincing fighting, and as for Jessica, well, she just screams a lot. Presumably that is down to the tragedy of the script rather than being actually required by it; there is reference to sinister under-age sex in Chien’s film alongside scenes so distasteful in tone as to push the boundaries of what is truly acceptable.

Strangely, surprisingly and as frustrating as anything else to be discovered lurking in Zombie Fight Club, Chien clearly has talent. The visual effects are at times hugely impressive and there are moments, however misguided they might be in practice, which theoretically hint at a filmmaker with an eye for how to frame a scene. Some of the set pieces, in particular the ill-fated fight club, are striking in their visuals but so few and far between are these moments of clarity that they are easily forgotten amidst the bottom-of-the-barrel scrapings that make up the majority of the film.

Zombie Fight Club is a film with a violent, distasteful sensibility that tries to provoke its audience through shock and awe but ultimately is just an unpleasant journey through an alley of grubby titillation. If Chien could only find a way out of the gutter and focus on what he actually does well then it would be interesting to see what he comes up with. For now, as much as your interest might be piqued by his latest feature, avoid Zombie Fight Club at all costs.

ZOMBIE FIGHT CLUB / CERT: 18 / DIRECTOR & SCREENPLAY: JOE CHIEN / STARRING: ANDY ON, JESSICA CAMBENSY, MICHAEL WONG, TERENCE YIN, JACK KAO / RELEASE DATE: AUGUST 31ST

 

Essentially a two-handed portrait of the barren and fastidious Kate Bosworth, as seen through the eyes of her initially bed-bound amnesiac husband (Wes Bentley), Michael Polish’s beautifully-composed film bears more than a passing tonal and visual resemblance to Jonathan Glazer’s Birth, with a good deal of Stanley Kubrick thrown in for good measure. Indeed most of the secondary characters barely register, and the reluctantly investigating detective part might have been written for Scatman Crothers. But Unconscious (known in the US as Amnesiac) is, in spite of the warm hues, so cold it verges on sterility, and ultimately it’s a troublingly misogynistic piece of work.

We begin with Bentley waking up, in the aftermath of the accident we eventually piece together through flashbacks, alone in a mostly featureless house with only his wife for company. Her coldness and borderline obsessive compulsive behaviour is belied by her eagerness to conceive a child, and it is only once he has the use of his legs back – after a first half-hour distinguished by its lengthy silences and whispered dialogue – that he very quickly realises his injuries are the least of his troubles. Before long the bodies start piling up and the secret hidden in the basement is uncovered, and even when Bentley thinks he’s worked out what’s going on there’s a further level of irony to confound him before the conclusion.

Bentley is superb as the apparent innocent adrift in a fog of lost memories, trying to piece together a life without any kind of handle upon what tore it apart, but Unconscious is undeniably Bosworth’s film, and she’s outstanding in the clinical, single-minded role that would, ten years ago, have been written for Nicole Kidman. Her iciness is offset by a deep-routed emotional drive that the actress manages to convey without compromise. The abrupt deviations into comedy whenever we cut away to Shashawnee Hall’s detective, however, threaten to unbalance the film’s carefully-constructed demeanour (Polish might admire Kubrick but he hasn’t the talent Kubrick had for balancing bathos with pathos), and the swift acts of violence in the second half often feel unwarranted and unnecessary.

And that’s where Unconscious fails; the first forty-five minutes set up a mystery that needs resolving with far more subtlety than the last half-hour supplies, and things which might have been better left ambiguous are spelled out, with the final fates of the characters leaving a sore taste in the mouth. What might have been an interesting character piece with lashings of black humour, Misery by way of To Die For, ends up a deeply disturbing portrait of modern womanhood that – as confirmed by the 1950s stylings in a modern setting – seemingly ignores half a century of progress towards equality.

Special Features: Trailer

UNCONSCIOUS (U.S. TITLE: AMNESIAC) / CERT: 15 / DIRECTOR: MICHAEL POLISH / SCREENPLAY: AMY KOLQUIST, MIKE LE / STARRING: KATE BOSWORTH, WES BENTLEY, OLIVIA ROSE KEEGAN, SHASHAWNEE HALL, RICHARD RIEHLE / RELEASE DATE: AUGUST 31ST

 

Monsters was a breakthrough hit for Gareth Edwards back in 2010 and assisted in him getting the Godzilla gig. Its low budget approach to literal monsters who have landed on Earth creating an infected zone in Mexico was refreshing if a little staid.

Now, the sequel has arrived, set ten years after the events of the first film. The infected zones have reached as far as the Middle East and so the battle is now between humans and the monsters as well as humans against humans. Using the ongoing issues in the area as a backdrop to the new events is quite a clever ploy, albeit one that never really takes off.

We follow four friends who are on their first tour of duty and have to deal with the dual threats of both terrorism and extra-terrestrials. They arrive under the belief that they’re going to be bug hunting until their superiors make it very clear that the biggest is still the one offered by those who resent them being there, not least because of the fact that some bombing runs have inadvertently resulted in the loss of lives of locals.

Herein lies the problem with the film. It doesn’t know whether to be an army film ala Jarhead, or a war analogy set in present time against an otherworldly enemy. It gets caught somewhere in the middle instead. Where you should really care about the friends and what happens to them, it seems you are just waiting for the next glimpse of the aliens, who appear to have evolved and multiplied somewhat.

Their superior deciding that this would be a good time to want out does not help their plight, and this does offer some tension in scenes as you wonder if they are all going to make it. But the stars of the show should be the titular creatures. In the original, there were reasons you couldn’t see them apart from fleetingly, but across a desert vista stretching for miles that ideal does not translate as well.

A final scene reveal of a creature that had a minor role earlier in the proceedings does provide a gasp out loud moment, but they are too few and far between. This would have been better off as a straight war story or perhaps a full-out monster assault with a Special Forces team instead of a group of grunts.

Instead, we are given a film that has a crisis of identity and suffers as result. They say that you should always leave viewers wanting more, but after two hours you’ll be glad when this reaches its climax.

MONSTERS: DARK CONTINENT / CERT: 15 / DIRECTOR: TOM GREEN / SCREENPLAY: TOM GREEN, JAY BASU / STARRING: JOHNNY HARRIS, SAM KEELEY, JOE DEMPSIE, KYLE SOLLER / RELEASE DATE: AUGUST 31ST

 

My Darling Clementine remains the definitive take on the legendary Gunfight at the OK Corral, and is right up there with John Ford’s finest ever Westerns. It’s stature as a classic of the genre is unquestionable, and along with other Ford greats like The Searchers and The Man Who Shot Liberty Valance, at its core is not only a battle between good and evil, but also the challenges facing towns in the old West as civility slowly caught up with them.

It’s fair to say that Ford’s film bares only a passing resemblance to real life events, of course. He actually met the real Wyatt Earp on a movie set as a young man, but at this stage of his career the director’s focus was more on purveying great idealistic mythology than historical accuracy. An aim he achieves with typical aplomb.

At the film’s outset, Wyatt (Henry Fonda) and his brothers are cattle drivers just passing through the rambunctious town of Tombstone. While visiting the town one evening, Wyatt successfully incapacitates a drunken Indian and runs him out of town. However, despite the mayor’s pleas, he turns down the job of Marshall when it is offered. However, when the siblings return to their herd and find their younger brother James dead, he reassess his decision and opts to stay on until the killers are brought to justice.

Fonda is impeccable as Wyatt Earp, perfectly encapsulating a character that was undeniably tough, but was far from an uncultured brute. Well-mannered and intelligent, he carried an air of respectability and authority as he strode around his town. The central romance with the titular Clementine also provides the film with a tenderness that highlights the type of civil domesticity that Wyatt is trying to make the West safe for. Despite being driven by revenge over his brother’s death, Wyatt still insists on acting within the law, proving himself an unwavering man of honour. Also standing out is Victor Mature as the former doctor turned alcoholic gambler “Doc” Holliday. Suffering from a chronic case of tuberculosis, Doc is the classic flawed Ford hero. There is a darkness inside of him, but at heart he is a good man too. One of the film’s most memorable scenes sees Mature reel off the closing passage of a Shakespeare soliloquy in the middle of a smoky saloon. A scene that again emphasises the elegance and beauty found in the harshest of surroundings.

The climactic shootout is Ford at his very best as the hustle and bustle of the town fades away and the forces of right and wrong do battle. Wyatt and his brothers, along with Doc, stride out to face the no-good Clanton clan with a steadfast purpose. The final burst of action sits in notable contrast to the depictions of quaint town life we have largely seen to this point.

The Blu-ray itself delivers Ford’s picture in all its pristine monochrome glory with those Monument Valley vistas and eye-catching interiors both looking magnificent as ever. A truly special Western that has never looked better.

Special Features: Audio commentary / Two documentaries / Movie Masterclass episode / Two radio plays / Visual essay / Gallery / Trailers / 40-page booklet

MY DARLING CLEMENTINE / CERT: PG / DIRECTOR: JOHN FORD / SCREENPLAY: SAMUEL G. ENGEL, WINSTON MILLER / STARRING: HENRY FONDA, LINDA DARNELL, VICTOR MATURE, CATHY DOWNS / RELEASE DATE: OUT NOW

 

Well here’s a bit of an oddity from the BFI. Arguably, it’s a long overdue oddity. You might not have heard of Richard Massingham but in the ‘40s and ‘50s he was quite a familiar face to Brit-audiences (even if they didn’t know who he was either). He wrote and directed a load of short and quintessentially British films for training and public information purposes that were whimsical, surreal and, ultimately, pleasingly bonkers. He even appeared in a good few of them himself (hence his anonymous familiarity) as a sort of childlike old duffer who needed a disembodied voice to tell him how to do everything from crossing the road to blowing his own nose. The BFI have assembled nearly three hours’ worth for their latest DVD release, How to be Eccentric: The Essential Richard Massingham.

If you are at all familiar with Massingham then in all likelihood the one you’ve seen is the aforementioned (and near-legendary) Handkerchief Drill (1949) in which he gets pepper and allsorts thrown at him in order to get the hang of that tricky snot-rag. That’s because it’s one of those things the BBC used to like to wheel out when showing us just how mad the past was. You see, not only are these films pretty amusing, they’re fascinating cultural history. While we might chuckle at the lack of hygiene in the brilliant Another Case of Food Poisoning (1949), it’s also intriguing to see just how filthy our grandparents were. Down at the Local (1945) might be fairly mirth-free but there is a genuine thrill to exploring British boozers through the eyes of a couple of drinkers during the closing years of the War. And to be honest, we didn’t even understand what Elopement in France (1944) was about until we discovered that this tale of a Canadian soldier’s romantic travails was actually an advert for Rinso washing powder.

The filmmaking techniques themselves are also worth looking out for: Massingham was something of an auteur in this field and it’s not that surprising that Henri Langlois described him as “the greatest technician and the greatest poet of British cinema”, even if his tongue was in his cheek and he was actually expressing a Gallic-distain for the rest of our cinematic efforts. And see if you can spot some well-known faces in their youth. We had a confirmed sighting of a young Dick Emery in 30 Miles an Hour (1949) and we could swear that’s Kenneth Connor as the tailor in In Which We Live: Being the Story of a Suit Told by Itself (1944) but we can’t actually prove it. Yes, the suit really is the lead actor in that.

All in all this is as essential as the title suggests if you’re in the slightest bit interested in Massingham’s unique work or British cultural history. The addition of a documentary on the disc would have been nice but ultimately the things-aren’t-so-bad What a Life (1948) and water-saving with The Five-Inch Bather (1942) make it worth the price of admission.

Special Features: 32-page booklet

HOW TO BE ECCENTRIC: THE ESSENTIAL RICHARD MASSINGHAM / DIRECTORS: VARIOUS BUT MAINLY RICHARD MASSINGHAM / SCREENPLAY: VARIOUS BUT MAINLY RICHARD MASSINGHAM / STARRING RICHARD MASSINGHAM AND OTHERS / RELEASED: AUGUST 24TH

 

Collection 21 starts on the second curve of the twelfth series, the first three episodes of which are recap filler from way back when, where Naruto, Sasuke and Sakura were still under Kakashi’s tutelage. The offending episodes are ten years old by this point, and carry no weight in the Shippiden context. When it first aired, a few duds were expected, but when it comes to paying almost twenty quid for twelve episodes – three being only recap – it starts to get steep. Couple that with region code issue on the second disc and it’s a sizable investment.

As if often the case with shows of this size and longevity, the animation quality is prone to fluctuate, and looking for any visual consistency is folly. That said, there are some moments of wonder and style in amongst the mediocrity. Episode 261, following the recap episodes, offers a stark reminder of how far the series has come in terms of popularity and production values. Sure, there’s still wonky animation, but the increased use of CG cell-shading provides greater scope and more dynamic fight sequences.

261 also sees the start of the Fourth Shinobi World War: Confrontation arc, with the rumblings of warfare in motion, and the battle against the Impure World Reincarnation. Dead shinobi have been brought back to the land of the living by a forbidden resurrection jitsu, to do their caster’s bidding. Among the comebacks are old fan favourites Haku and Zabuza, two of the principal adversaries from the original Naruto series. After the duo’s emotional send-off the first time around, this re-entry isn’t quite up to snuff. The only way of stopping them is by releasing their souls, like the adage about ghosts left behind because of some unfinished business in life. It might not be the most original concept, especially when it comes to anime, but the resurrection trope does make for some interesting scenarios and springboard new faces.

Naruto, meanwhile, continues his training with Killer B (who, in the English dub, sounds like Starsky and Hutch’s Huggy Bear). There’s plenty of laughs and light relief, but it’s got nothing on his training with toady Jiraiya.

The crippling region code issues and filler episodes prevent Collection 21 being anything other than superfluous. Distributor Manga Entertainment UK is resolving the issue, but twelve episode chunks aren’t nearly enough to fully enjoy and appreciate all that the series has to offer. Without the bookending arcs, it feels a bit touristy.

NARUTO SHIPPUDEN COLLECTION 21 / CERT: 12 / DIRECTOR: HAYATO DATE / SCREENPLAY: JUNKI TAKEGAMI / STARRING: CHIE NAKAMURA, JUNKO TAKEUCHI, NORIAKI SUGIYAMA / RELEASE DATE: OUT NOW