jrd_73

Fantasmagorie is a long, short-film (about 45 minutes) meant as a stylish homage to Dracula. A married couple is separated when the husband is called away on business. He meets strange country people before arriving at his destination. The husband's host is a strange man, who the husband eventually figures out is a vampire salivating over his guest's wife (Edith Scob from Eyes Without a Face) at home.

The film does not use much more than the opening of the Bram Stoker novel. Instead, it tries for a more nightmarish, dreamlike world (shot in an expressionistic style). The black and white photography conjures up some nice images. I particularly liked the scene where the husband finds his host's coffin. The ending was also nicely done.

However, the film has two noticeable weaknesses. The first is that the film is set in modern times. The Harker stand-in (he is not named) is planning to drive his car to his host's chateau. When it breaks down, he is met by a truck driven by one of the vampire's servants. The modern things seem out of place somehow. True, a balance of old world and new world can pay off (like in Blood for Dracula or in Count Yorga), but Fantasmagorie is less successful at balancing the two worlds, with the modern setting feeing more like a financial consideration rather than an aesthetic one.

The second problem is an overly talkative narrator. The film would have been more effective if it had been played with no dialogue whatsoever. This would have also made the film feel more like a film from the silent era.

Fantasmagorie is a decent homage. I enjoyed it somewhat. However, the film never rises above the level of an homage.

It looks like I am the first to write a review for Un largo viaje hacia la muerte, or A Long Journey Toward Death (the subtitled title). The version I saw was about twenty minutes shorter than the running time listed here, so I am not giving the film a star rating. What I can say is that I was not impressed by what I saw.

Juan is a happily married man who carries scars from a mental illness and the shock treatments that followed. Someone in the town is murdering nurses. Is it Juan? He seems suspicious, being a sculptor, suffering from nightmares, and having a job making creepy looking dolls for children. Meanwhile, Juan's former doctor keeps trying to convince Juan to come in for a visit, but Juan keeps coming up with excuses. The doctor's girlfriend is a nurse and a potential victim.

A Long Journey Towards Death doesn't stand out from other psychological horror films of the period. The film boasts some nice imagery in dream scenes (judges in ropes and whigs carrying a coffin for instance), but this is not really enough. The film is somewhat predictable, and the ending was weak.

Again, I saw a version missing about twenty minutes. Maybe I would have liked the full version more, but I rather doubt it.

Jean-Luc Godard allegedly once stated all that was needed for a film was a girl and a gun. However, once one strips his films of the pretty girl (Bardot, Karina, Seberg), along with the Raoul Coutard images and Michel Legrand (or George Delerue) music, all that is left is the director's gun trying to force the viewer to accept his political position.

Structured as a letter written on a trip to a woman named Rosa, Godard's travelogue visits a sick country, the former Czechoslovakia a year or two after the Russian invasion of 1968. Who is responsible for Czechoslovakia's sickness? Godard rails against the "Revisionists," those who have betrayed the Marxist-Leninist ideal. In the case of Czechoslovakia, Godard blames the former Soviet Union for invading but also Czechoslovakia for not staying true to the ideal and instead allowing Western business interests into their country.

Along the way, Godard attacks filmmaker Milos Forman for leaving to make a film for Paramount (actually, it was Universal that released Forman's Taking off, a much more entertaining movie than Pravda). Then, there are the Czech factory workers making parts for weapons for the North Vietnamese. The factory workers are normal guys just doing their jobs and trying to enjoy their lives. Yet, Godard has to take them to task for preferring to spend their time off watching entertaining movies instead of films that educate, like presumably the one that Godard is making. At this point, I became particularly annoyed. The idea of the workers all singing enthusiastically and working together for the good of the whole community, images the film includes, is a myth.

I watched Pravda the same week I was re-reading Milan Kundera's The Unbearable Lightness of Being, which deals, in part, with the Russian invasion of Czechoslovakia in 1968. I was not favorably inclined to like Pravda that week. However, even had I watched the film at a different time, I still think I would have been irritated, and a little sad to see the director of Alphaville, Contempt, and Vivre Sa Vie (all films I admire) making, intentionally or unintentionally, an apology for despotism.

Some have argued that the definition of insanity is doing the same thing over and over again and expecting a different result. That quote comes to mind when I think of my experiences with the cinema of Bela Tarr. Jesus Franco is the only other director I have spent so much time voluntarily watching film after film and yet liking very few. In short, I am nuts.

Damnation is my third go around for Bela Tarr, and it is my most favorable experience with Bela Tarr's aesthetic to date. The 121-minute running, short for Tarr, and a more easily followable plot than usual helped, but Damnation's trump card is its ending.

Karrer is a lay about obsessed with a married would-be singer in a Hungarian village, whose main business is apparently exporting coal. The film is filled with long takes of coal carts being transported by an overhead lift, high above the town. Karrer is offered a job by a bar owner to transport a package, probably containing drugs, from one city to another. Karrer passes the job to the husband of the singer he likes. The husband is in-debt and needs the cash, so he agrees. With the husband away, Karrer thinks he can make his move. Although Karrer gets what he wants, everyone is worse off at the end.

Once again for Bela Tarr, Damnation is a film of lots of rain, mud, and fog. The takes are long, and the film could have used some judicious editing. The plot would have worked better in a movie about a half hour shorter. Still, I have to admit that the film has its moments. There are some interesting shots that use space well, particularly the scene where Karrer is leaving the singer's apartment as the singer's daughter is entering. The film has an unpassionate but realistic sex scene. Some of the shots at the village party are well done. Then, there is the ending. The use of the mud and the rain pays off dividends in the final scene. The ending impressed me. I was not expecting it to, but it did, going a long way to make up for some of the slowness before it. I can forgive a lot if a movie pays off at the end.

So far, I have watched three Bela Tarr movies plus reading one novel that was the literary source of one of those three films. In addition, I plan to soon watch a documentary on Bela Tarr. This is a lot of time to spend on a director who makes films I don't care much for. Call me crazy.

Tomorrow Pheasant is a Hungarian film that serves up a little parable about benevolent dictatorships.

The setting is a quiet river side during a hot summer. A married couple in their early thirties arrive and are happy to find the place nearly empty except for an aging professor and some fishermen. Then, a large group of twentysomethings show up. The older fishermen (in their forties and fifties) take an interest in the young people. One shortish, middle-aged man makes himself the unofficial leader of all of the campers.

For a while, everyone is happy, but little problems slowly (too slowly) begin to pop up. The leader is a bit too fond of giving speeches and a bit too proud of his unearned position. The professor and the couple in their thirties, who were first at the spot, find themselves being gently coerced into participating in the leader's organized events. Then, there is the matter of personal property. While the couple is technically under no obligation to lend their things, an expectation hangs in the air.

Tomorrow Pheasant (a phrase the "leader" states) takes a low-key approach. As a result, the film can feel a bit slight, in spite of some good images of the river and the natural world around it (director Sandor Sara was a noted cinematographer).

The film would probably have meant more in the 1970s, behind the iron curtain, where audiences would have been more familiar with individuals serving as benevolent leaders, whether or not these leaders were wanted.

The third Sword in the Moonlight film ends well.

This entry picks up after the second film with the murderous Ryunosuke Tsukue still working for the greedy lord planning to assassinate his rival. Plot complications include a young woman with a facial birthmark who brings a special sword to the villain, the circus performer who goes to work for the nice lord, and a prison break.

In the end, the film, like the last Satan's Sword movie, comes down to Ryunosuke Tsukue losing his mind during a storm. The payoff isn't as big as it is in the third Satan's Sword movie, yet I preferred this film's staging of the action. Once again there are some plot threads left hanging, but of the three adaptations of Daibosatsu Toge that I have seen (Sword of Doom and the three Satan's Sword movies being the others), I thought this one had the best conclusion.

The Satan's Sword trilogy remains my favorite adaptation overall because of director Kenji Misumi's direction (in the first two films) and Ichikawa Raizo's acting. Nonetheless, in spite of a hesitant start, I was won over by the Sword in the Moonlight movies.

I found this second film in the Sword in the Moonlight series to be more interesting than the first. There are a couple of reasons for this.

First, the plot of this second film varies more from the plot of the second film in the Satan's Sword series. This film introduces some new characters, two circus performers who are falsely accused of stealing from a greedy clan leader. In addition, Ryunosuke Tsukue finds some peace with an unmarried woman and her young son. This was a plot line that played to the strengths of actor Chiezo Kataoka.

It would have been hard to picture Ichikawa Raizo's amoral Ryunosuke Tsukue being so contemplative, yet it works well for Chiezo Kataoka's interpretation of that character. That is the second reason I liked this second film in the series more than the first, Chiezo Kataoka is becoming a better fit for the character, or maybe I am just getting used to the actor's style. Kataoka still is not overly impressive as a fighter, but as a tired killer who might want to settle down, Kataoka does a good job.

I still prefer the Satan's Sword movies, but this second Sword in the Moonlight film improved over the first. I am now looking forward to seeing the third film in the series.

I must agree with the fellow reviewer who found this version of Daibosatsu Toge (The Great Buddha Pass) not as interesting as the Ichikawa Raizo version from a few years later.

Sword in the Moonlight is a decent samurai film, but since I have watched Sword of Doom and all three Satan's Sword movies, I felt somewhat underwhelmed by this version. Of course, I am aware that the Sword in the Moonlight films came before Satan's Sword, but it comes after the Ichikawa Raizo in my film viewing life. There are differences. For instance, in Sword in the Moonlight, the villainous Ryunosuke Tsukue does not sleep with his rival's wife until after the duel. I was also glad that this first film did not end on a cliffhanger like the first two Satan Sword films. Sword in the Moonlight has aspects to recommend it.

In the end, I think the problem rests with the leading actor. Chiezo Kataoka is a decent actor, but he is no Ichikawa Raizo. Furthermore, he was in his mid-fifties when he made Sword in the Moonlight, which seems a bit old for Ryunosuke Tsukue, at least for me (others may not have that problem).

I have not read the source material, so perhaps Sword in the Moonlight might be closer to the spirit of the books. I do know that, as cinema, I preferred Satan's Sword from 1960.

The 1980's shot-on-video boom produced some nearly unwatchable movies. Some VHS enthusiasts may have nostalgia for these homemade productions, but I do not. Nonetheless, since I watched Straight to VHS, a documentary about Act of Violence in a Young Journalist, I was curious to watch the movie that had spawned the documentary. The film is not a good one, but it is slightly more interesting than many of its shot-on-video peers.

First, Act of Violence in a Young Journalist is a psychological thriller. It is not, as was the usual, a horror movie. This was surprising. The plot follows a youngish reporter Blanca (Blanca Gimenez) in Uruguay as she researches violence in society. Blanca interviews soccer players, members of the transportation department, and executives). I have no idea if these interviews are for real or if those being interviewed are just actors. My guess is that they are probably legit. Regardless of authenticity, these interviews seem to go on and on. I get the feeling that the film's director (Manuel Lamas) was far more interested in all of this than any potential viewer would be. In addition to the interviews, the film follows the journalist as she becomes involved with a man who has left Uruguay to live internationally. The couple bicker a lot about various points, including whether one should leave their homeland. Both characters are highly opinionated, and the back and forth can become tiresome.

A viewer might be thinking okay, a documentary and a romantic drama, but when do we get to the thriller elements? In the film's last third, the crazy son of one of the reporter's friends begins stalking the reporter. There are a few killings and a climax that borrows from the ending of Friday the 13th: Part 2 (minus the gore). Then, the film ends, leaving the viewer unsure of what kind of film he or she just watched.

Is Act of Violence in a Young Journalist worth watching? I don't think so. It feels way overlong at 108 minutes. However, director Manuel Lamas is trying to make a "real" film. He does not have the means or the experience to pull it off, but he is clearly trying. Because of that, I can't bring myself to bash the film too harshly, although it is still a bad, often dull, movie.

For years, I have heard of this film called Bruce Lee Versus Gay Power. Well, I finally scored a copy that was fan subtitled. The onscreen title is Kung Fu Contra as Bonecas, which the subtitles translate as Kung Fu Against the Fairies.

I had no idea that the film was a comedy. It is not a funny one, but it is supposed to be a comedy. The villains must punch in before they go to "work" (robbing, murdering, etc.). The head bandit likes to have his hair styled (in curlers). Another bandit uses his hands as telescope and then wipes off the imaginary glass. If all of the above sounds hysterical to you, then you might be the ideal target audience for Kung Fu Contra as Bonecas.

The plot involves land grabbing. A respected citizen has hired the bandits to kill a Chinese family and then later another farm owner and his daughter. The son (who most certainly is not Asian) from the Chinese family returns from studying martial arts abroad just in time to save the farm owner's daughter, who also somehow knows martial arts. The son, who seems most upset by the fact that the bandits killed his pet pig, vows revenge.

In addition to not being Chinese, the son is also not named Bruce Lee. In fact, I am not sure he is ever referred to by name. He wears a T-shirt of The Kung Fu TV show, and the film feels indebted to that TV series. I guess David Carradine Versus Gay Power did not have the same ring to it. For that matter, the bandits were not as effeminate as one might expect from the alternative title. The villains might act in a bizarre manner, somewhat like the ones in Django Kill! (was that film a hit in Brazil?), but they also party with dance hall girls. Only one of the villains seems to actually be gay. So how did the alternative title became attached to this film? Got me, but it is a memorable title.

Kung Fu Contra as Bonecas (or Bruce Lee Versus Gay Power) is a pretty cheap and shoddy film. The martial arts are pretty much limited to jumping and a few kicks. The humor is miserable. The most interesting aspect about the whole film is that alternative title. See it if you must, but don't say I didn't warn you.

I saw this film under the title The Terrorists, dubbed into English, panned and scanned, and in a dark print. Needless to say, these are not the ideal conditions to watch any film.

I wanted to see The Terrorists because Barry Prima was supposed to be in it. However, Prima does not show up until the final half-hour. He is certainly not the lead character. Come to think of it, I am not sure who was supposed to be the lead character.

The film begins with security officials discussing the rise of terrorism and identifying two people who might know more about the terrorists. One of these suspects is recruiting for a criminal enterprise. A businessman, hurting for money, wants the thugs to blow up his buildings so that he can collect on the insurance. However, the job does not go smoothly, and the criminals find themselves on the run, ending up crashing into a hospital. The film's second half has the criminals grabbing patients and doctors and holding them in exchange for money and a helicopter. Meanwhile, the bombs that the criminals had failed to plant are still ticking away.

I was surprised by the hospital setting, since The Terrorists is five years before John Woo's Hardboiled. In fact, the film has an eighties Hong Kong feel (the film was a co-production). However, the action scenes and special effects are not as good as in a typical Hong Kong action film of that period.

The Terrorists meanders for much of the first half, and the whole film feels a bit lacking. The Terrorists is not essential viewing. However, on a cold, dull, lazy afternoon (like today was) it will do as a time waster.

I recently purchased the set of director Piotr Szulkin's science fiction films that was put out on blu-ray by Vinegar Syndrome. I was hesitant since I had not cared much for the one Szulkin film I had seen (The Golem), but overall, I liked the set. I enjoyed O-bi, O-ba: The End of Civilization the best of the four films, but I also liked Ga-ga: Glory to the Heroes.

In a totalitarian future, prisoners are used as space explorers. Scope, the protagonist, is sent to a planet that is very similar to earth. Here, his landing is both expected and hailed. He is proclaimed as a hero and can have anything he wants. However, there is a pretty big catch involved.

The world Scope finds himself in is an ugly, cheap one, one whose citizens crave entertainment, and the government bureaucracy gives it to them, through the country's "heroes." All of this is conveyed in a darkly humorous, satirical manner. This humor could be hit and miss at times. I got tired of the cannibal jokes, but other jokes hit. What I liked most how the film was able to convey a futuristic world with almost no special effects.

Ga, Ga: Glory to the Heroes is worth checking out for the more adventurous science-fiction fan.

La Poupee (or The Doll) is a broad political satire where a revolutionary has to take the place of a dictator.

Zbigniew Cybulski, so good in Ashes and Diamonds, plays, poorly, two roles here. He is both The Colonel, an over-the-top dictator of a South American country and also a well-meaning revolutionary. When the dictator suddenly dies, the revolutionary has to take his place, since both the government officials and the revolutionaries find it necessary for the Colonel to live a little longer. The reason why I did not quite get. Cybulski overplays The Colonel in an annoyingly broad way, yet he underplays the revolutionary to the point that the character seems to have no personality at all.

In addition to the main plot, the film has a science fiction angle with a scientist, critical of the Colonel, developing a machine which can produce a double of anything. The scientist produces a double of a rich woman and then somehow enters the double and uses her to give voice to the revolution.

Neither of these storylines are very interesting. The humor is too broad (there is a particularly annoying actor in drag serving as a chorus). Admittedly, the film features some stylish moments, but whatever statement it is trying to make gets lost.

Poor Christ is a re-imagining of Jesus Christ's life in an alternative 1970's Italy (got that?).

Giorgio (Mino Reitano) is a poor worker from the countryside who has come to the city with his mother and sister. Giorgio is initially employed helping to restore a church. Early on, we see Giorgio seeing visions (a star in the sky and so forth). Bothered by these visions, Giorgio switches employment and becomes a private detective. Why? I think Giorgio liked the images he saw in a comic book. He only has one client before the police shut him down for not having an investigator's license. This one client (Curd Jurgens) gives Giorgio two months to find definitive proof that Jesus Christ existed. So, Giorgio goes down a hole in his search, become obsessed, and sharing some of Jesus's experience. For instance, he finds needed wine at a wedding, is tempted by a stranger in the night, gets accused by a Judas figure of wasting provisions that could have been sold to help the poor, etc.

The film's concept is not unique. In Nazarin, director Luis Bunuel shows a priest trying to live like Jesus and suffering condemnation because of it. In the later Jesus of Montreal, an actor playing Jesus in a passion play begins to take on Christlike characteristics in his own life. Both Nazarin and Jesus of Montreal are vastly superior to Poor Christ.

While not difficult to watch, Poor Christ is still a heavy-handed allegory. Part of the problem is that the world the story is taking place in is heavily stylized, a world that doesn't look like the real 1970's of Italy. This setting distances the viewer from the story. The film also takes the easy approach of making the police and establishment the stand-in for Rome and the hippie vagabonds the apostles.

I am not exactly sure who Poor Christ is for. Many believers are going to find the film too strange and its content (brief female nudity) troublesome. On the other hand, Poor Christ is not quite weird enough for fans of 1970's psychedelic cinema. I would guess the film was an important one for the filmmaker, but watching the film in 2024, it seems an odd yet unessential artifact from some distant past.

Ceremony of Senses plays, in part, like a rip-off of Salo, or the 120 Days of Sodom. I like the Pasolini film, but I wonder if it was successful enough to justify imitations.

I will try to explain the plot of Ceremony of Senses. The film opens with a car wreck. A man stumbles onto the scene, from somewhere. A group of leading citizens (a priest, a Cardinal, a police chief, etc.) wrap the bystander up and set him on fire. Next, the same bystander, our protagonist, saves a woman from thugs. She takes him home, explains about a conspiracy, gets high, and imagines him as the messiah. Later, the protagonist goes to a villa where he sees the people who set him on fire engaging in some Salo style thrills (there is some hardcore and softcore sex). When a group of caged boys is wheeled in, the protagonist smashes in and attacks the group before being arrested. Then, after witnessing how the police handle the case - blaming the captive boys - the protagonist escapes from prison and begins to heal the blind and the lame. This makes those in power nervous and they scheme to neutralize this new messiah.

If the summary sounds less than coherent, believe me, the film is not much clearer. Admittedly, the fan subtitles on the print I saw left much to be desired. Still, anyone expecting a narrative film is going to be confused.

For my part, I had hoped to groove on some wild, 70's madness, but Ceremony of Sadness is a dud. The director is clearly most interested in the sex, judging from his future career in hardcore pornography. Meanwhile, the "statement" comes off as both tiresome and half-hearted. Finally, the ending is so obvious, that I can't believe the filmmakers thought it would be a surprise to anyone.

Those interested in seeing a more enjoyable take on the 1970's new messiah idea should check out The End of Man from Brazilian horror filmmaker Jose Marins. For those wanting arty Salo style shocks, they would do better to just re-watch the Pasolini film. Although not quite as graphic as A Ceremony of Senses, Salo stands, by far, as the more disturbing and shocking of the two films.

As an aside, the print I saw ran about 113 minutes, which is longer than the listed running time, not that too many people will want more of the film.

Jeans Blue: No Future, recently released on disc by Discotek, is an enjoyable crime film from Japan starring Meiko Kaji.

The plot has a lowly criminal making off with five million yen from his partners who wanted to kill him rather than share the loot. This criminal, Jiro, is pretty much on the bottom of the criminal hierarchy and is more braggart than thug. Fleeing his partners, Jiro runs his (stolen) car into the (stolen) car being driven by Hijiriko (Kaji), a bartender that has made off with her boss's evening take. She goes off with Jiro because she is bored, simple as that. In pursuit are Jiro's former partners, who are only slightly more professional than Jiro. The film's final third goes into Bonnie and Clyde territory, as Jiro and Hijiriko turn to armed robbery after losing Jiro's loot.

While not exactly action packed, Jeans Blue: No Future moves along at a study pace, keeps the viewer interested, and turns brutal (and grim) in the final third. The film also gets a boost from Meiko Kaji, who brings a certain style or attitude to the film. Viewers not taken with Meiko Kaji nor all that interested in Japanese crime films may not like the film as much as I did, but I was certainly entertained. The Blu-ray looks nice as well.

Hoa Binh ("peace") would have meant more in 1970, when the Vietnam War was still going on. It is a film that sees the war not from the viewpoint of the soldiers, but from the poor, innocent bystanders who are victimized by both sides.

Hung is a youth about eight or nine years old. He lives with his younger sister and his mother, who works hard to support them. Hung's father is gone, no one knows where. Hung's mother develops an infection in her leg and takes the children to her sister's home in the country. However, the sister is not happy about being saddled with two more children to feed. The mother continues to work, but her health declines. When she goes into the hospital, Hung decides to take his sister back to the city and look for work.

Along the way, the children meet several adults, from both sides of the conflict. Both sides talk in similar speeches ("we will continue fighting for another twenty years if we have to") while being unaware of the needs of these two homeless children. Hoa-Binh is less anti-war as pro-human.

I had wanted to see Hoa Binh ever since I first read about the film in Something to Declare, a collection of reviews by critic John Simon. Almost twenty years has passed since I first read that review, almost twenty years of watching other movies. In that time, I have seen the children in war story told in Come and See, Diamonds of the Night, Germany Year Zero, Grave of the Fireflies, Ivan's Childhood, and The Painted Bird, all of which I like more than Hoa Binh. Watching Hoa Binh now, I understand its historical importance, but I also feel a bit like I have seen the story before in a different setting, in a different war.

Hoa Binh is a well-made, very well-meaning film that I admire for its humanity. Still, I must admit that I was only sporadically drawn into its story.

Straight to VHS is supposed to be a documentary on the story behind the making of an obscure shot-on-video horror film made in Uruguay in 1988, titled: Act of Violence in a Young Journalist.

I am not much for shot-on-video movies, but I am always intrigued by someone who is so passionately moved by a film to become obsessed by it. Therefore, I began Straight to VHS with much enthusiasm, but by the end, I was quite irritated.

The documentary begins with a story of how Emilio Silva Torres watched and became obsessed with Act of Violence in a Young Journalist. We get interviews with other fans of the movie, explaining why they were drawn to it. Then, Torres tries to track down the people who made the movie, particularly the actors and the film's obscure director, Manuel Lamas. Here is where the documentary begins to disappoint.

It is not Torres's fault that none of the actors will talk on camera about Act of Violence in a Young Journalist. Torres gets a camera technician and a person who had rented Lamas his equipment back in the 1980s. These are the only two people connected to the 1988 movie that will talk on camera. Obviously, there is only so much either person can say, since they were only tangentially related to the making of the obscure movie. So, what to do?

Emilio Silva Torres then tries to turn his documentary into a horror movie about his own obsession with the 1988 movie and about how evil a person Manuel Lamas, that unknown director, was. Straight to VHS even changes its visual style, not at all looking like the talking heads documentary that it started as. Instead, we get dream scenes, a fortune teller drawing tarot cards, and clips from what look like Manuel Lamas's home movies (admittedly, with shot-on-video entertainment, reality and fiction can get a bit blurry). Finally, in the documentary's most ridiculous scene, Torres burns the box containing all of his notes and, presumably very rare, video tapes. Torres does not take his box outside and burn it. No, he burns it in the living room of the cabin in the woods where he is staying, burning down the whole cabin with the box of material. I am sure the cabin's owner loved that!

After that idiocy, the film switches back to being a regular documentary with comments from someone who knew Manuel Lamas in his last years. The sequence is probably the most affecting section of the documentary. Unfortunately, it comes too late to save the film.

After watching Straight to VHS, I have no idea what to think of the long-gone Manuel Lamas. Like many low budget filmmakers, he seems to have used others to get his projects made. He also seems to have had some issues with women. Maybe Lamas was not a very nice person, but does that justify turning him into some supernatural, Faustian boogeyman? I think not.

In the end, Emilio Silva Torres did not have enough material for even a feature length documentary. This should have been a short film. Torres also clearly aspires to be a filmmaker in the horror and thriller genres. However, by grafting that style onto this documentary, Torres does a disservice to both himself and to his subject matter.

Another reviewer called this last entry in the Crimson Bat series dull. I didn't find the film dull, but it is somewhat typical. It is enjoyable enough for fans, but others might be underwhelmed.

In this entry, Oichi rescues a young couple from a lecherous lord and gets a bounty put on her head. Three bounty hunters are trying to collect the 100 ryo reward: one who fights with a sword, a second who fights with a sickle on a chain, and the third who is a master of martial arts and only uses his body as a weapon.

Oichi's travels take her to a seaside village where the fishermen are being run out by the ambitious local boss who has a dream of building a big port. Since one of the three bounty hunters is from the city, a viewer can guess that he will switch sides.

The Crimson Bat, Wanted Dead or Alive is a decent samurai actioner, but it also does not stand out from the many other samurai films made in that period. I would place it third in the series.

The Crimson Bat films are an attempt to make a female version of Zatoichi, a blind swordswoman. The films are generally not as successful as the Zatoichi films, partially because Yoko Matsuyama is not the actor that Shintaro Katsu is. Matsuyama is okay, but she doesn't really impress as either a blind woman nor as a swordfighter. Watch Out, Crimson Bat! Is the third entry in the series, and after the second entry (Trapped, The Crimson Bat), the next best entry of the four films.

In this one, Oichi is entrusted to deliver a scroll to a master weapons maker. The old man has retired to practice his art in the countryside. Too bad the local lord is a weapons nut who wants to use the old man's knowledge for personal gain. Oichi meets up with two orphans (a girl and a boy) whose parents have been killed in the lord's experiments with dynamite. Oichi also meets up with not one, not two, but three separate ronin, crossing swords with each before befriending two of the three.

The plot is a bit crowded, but it makes for a quickly paced film. The action scenes are fine, but certainly not astounding. I liked the film well enough, but I am an admirer of samurai cinema. Non-fans should probably drop my star rating one or two stars.

The three Trilogy of Life films that Pier Paolo Pasolini directed have grown on me over the years. I do not like them all equally, but even the weakest one (The Canterbury Tales) has some merit in terms of composition and framing.

Bawdy Tales is the redheaded stepchild to those films. It was written in part by Pasolini and was produced by Alberto Grimaldi, who had produced the other films. In addition, Tonino Delli Colli and Dante Ferretti return as cinematographer and production designer. In addition, Pasolini regulars Franco Citti and Ninetto Davoli star in the frame story as two thieves who are supposedly telling the stories that we are seeing, although this is not always clear.

Unfortunately, the stories are nothing special. The Pasolini Trilogy of Life films had The Decameron, The Canterbury Tales, and The Arabian Nights to draw upon. Bawdy Tales consists of, as far as I know, original tales in the style of the bawdy tales found in those books. Most deal with adultery and end in some sort of violence, which is not always true of the stories in the Pasolini films.

Here we are treated to two castrations, three stabbings, a beheading, and two hangings. As a result, the stories became very familiar after awhile. Only the ending, which is somewhat modern, stood out. I liked the gallows humor (literally) of the end. The rest of the film, I was utterly indifferent to. I didn't mind watching it, but I would not watch it a second time. For all of the talent involved in the making of the film, it still felt like one of the ripoffs of the Trilogy of Life films.

Mekong Hotel is, I think, supposed to be something of a lark. I got that feeling about the one other Apichatpong Weerasethakul film I have seen (Mysterious Object at Noon). However, whatever charm Mekong Hotel is supposed to have is lost on me.

The film begins with the director talking to a guitarist who is providing the music for the film we are watching. Next, we are introduced to a young woman carrying bloody entrails who, after apparently cleaning up from her meal, meets a man staying at this hotel. He has lost his dog to, he believes, an evil spirit (hmm, who could that be?). The man starts hanging out with the young lady at her mother's home near the hotel, on the Mekong River. They all lounge around. The mother talks about her past, a flood in Thailand and worries about her daughters. Are these actors in character or just talking between takes? Occasionally, the long scenes are interrupted by the director talking to the guitarist in the background. Not a whole lot happens.

Toward the end, the film provides some confusing exposition, with the actors clearly reading their lines from a shooting script which is deliberately left in plain view of the camera. I guess this is to remind the viewer that he is watching a movie (trust me, I didn't need to be reminded).

Finally, there is a nearly six-minute overhead shot of revelers on jet skis going around and around on Mekong River.

Okay, if I were on vacation and lounging outside my hotel room, I might watch jet skiers under the pretty scenery for six minutes too. However, to watch such a scene in a movie is beyond me. Maybe my attention span was ruined by music videos as a teenager or maybe a six-minute static shot of river is just dull, as is the rest of the movie. I don't know what game the director is trying to play with his audience, but I am not amused.

I saw Azor a week ago. I have been thinking about it ever since.

The word "Azor" as used here is a French expression that means to remain quiet, to play one's cards close to the chest. On the surface, the film looks like a thriller, maybe something that Costa-Gavras might have made. However, like its title, the film is too quiet to be called a thriller.

In 1980, a Genevan private banker arrives in Argentina to do business. He is replacing a colleague who has a controversial reputation with the locals. In fact, there is some question about where this predecessor is currently, most believing that he has returned to Geneva. The banker, Yvan, and his wife, Ines, spend several days in the country trying to woo various clients, but the country's politics keep coming up. One of the clients (excellently played by Juan Trench) is grieving the disappearance of his daughter, who was involved in a political group. Her fate looks dire, but the client hangs on to hope.

Throughout all of this, Yvan and his wife, choose their words carefully and navigate the chilly political waters. The film builds to an ending that I initially thought of as too slight, but the more I think about it, the more I admire its true-to-life quality. There are no chases or shootouts like most thrillers would have for a climax. Instead, the film ponders a question. The story acknowledges that to get ahead one must often remain silent to horrible abuses, but should he do so?

Azor is a nicely shot, eye catching film, with good actors. I especially like Fabrizo Rongione, as Yvan, who has the difficult task of expressing a lot without saying much. I liked Azor a week ago, but I like it even more now.

Having been impressed by the imagery in Alejandro Jodoworsky's Mexican films, I was curious to see Angels and Cherubs, a surrealist film from Jodoworsky's cinematographer. Alas, in spite of a few interesting touches, the film remains both dull and obtuse.

A prologue re-creates the myth of Adam and Eve, only here Eve comes first and then Adam. Both characters are played by naked children (I would guess the director's kids), who run around a beach that is supposed to be paradise. All of that ends when the kids pull a white ball from a huge piece of driftwood and evil is let loose.

After this prologue, the main story starts. Christian (Jorge Humberto Robles), the son of a rich landowner, falls in love with Angela (Helena Rojo), the daughter of unliked, recent arrivals to the area. Christian begins courting Angela without his father's approval. Needless to say, things take a dark turn eventually (but not soon enough however).

I am not sure what the prologue has to do with the rest of the film, but it is probably the best part of the movie. The main story rambles along. Director Rafael Corkidi does occasionally frame an interesting shot, but he also doesn't know when to cut. There is an overhead shot of a dinner table while the servants serve the first course to each diner and then, since the diners are not eating, collect each of the plates one at a time. This shot goes on for three courses, the food, all three times, put on the the table only to be taken away. Someone hit the fast forward button!

Finally, the film builds to a conclusion that is so hoary that it wouldn't cut mustard in an episode of a low-budget horror anthology. Angels and Cherubs is a long way from El Topo or The Holy Mountain.

In the Highest of the Skies has a premise that Luis Bunuel could have made magic out of.

A diverse group of individuals are at the Vatician to meet the Pope. They get into a large freight elevator and press up. Minutes pass. Someone eventually mentions that they have all been in the elevator a long time. Still more minutes pass. The elevator display still clicks off floors ("There can't be that many floors"). Eventually, the passengers realize they are trapped in an elevator that is apparently moving constantly upward. Soon, tempers become short. First, a labor unionist, suffering from claustrophobia, becomes manic. A fellow passenger hits the unionist on the head killing him. Later, as everyone tries to sleep, a priest feels up a young girl, so he is tied up. Slowly, everyone in this holy party begin to turn on each other.

Unfortunately, Luis Bunuel did not make the film, which has little of Bunuel's humor. Instead, the filmmakers try to shock the viewer. Perhaps, if a viewer is strongly Catholic or unused to viewing strange films, but jaded viewers who have seen, say, Salo, or the 120 Days of Sodom are going to wonder what the fuss is over. It is also clear that the characters are supposed to be archetypes (a stern mother superior, a lecherous priest, a communist, a journalist for a Catholic publication, etc.). Some of these types do not register as well for non-Italians living in the 21st Century.

Still, In the Highest of the Skies did hold my interest for its 80 some minutes, so I can't beat up on the film too harshly. However, if I get into a mood to re-watch a surrealist film about people seemingly supernaturally stranded in one location, it will be The Exterminating Angel.