In Rotation: Recent DVD Roundup
By Chris Hyde
August 10, 2004
This space last week was devoted to a long lament about some films that haven’t yet come to DVD; this time, let’s look at a bunch that have.
The all-out onslaught of DVD releases that hits the shelves every week certainly threatens to overwhelm all but the most devoted viewer — and those of us partial to a region-free lifestyle find it even harder to keep up. But there’s no use wailing about being drowned in the good product that continually washes over us, ‘cause that’d just get in the way of all the treading we’re trying to do. But today let’s breeze through some capsule reviews of a few 2004 releases that might help you sift through the available offerings to find what you need. Be warned, however — it’s summertime, that time of year when brains go on vacation. So you’ll not be seeing much that will pique your intellectual curiosity or edify your soul in the next bit. Your reptilian mind, on the other hand, should be quite satisfied.
Conquest (1983, released by Blue Underground 7/27/04)
Italian director Lucio Fulci directed a number of high quality motion pictures over the course of his career, but this is certifiably not one of them. (Readers wishing to see something higher caliber may instead want to look for BU’s recent release of the filmmaker’s Zombie). Conquest is Fulci’s take on the sword ‘n' sorcery genre, and the resulting mess is a mix of elements that wouldn’t be out of place in The Beastmaster with some additional gore and Euro-toplessness. The plot is nonexistent and inconsequential, the acting static and the action drags quite a bit. But there are a couple of things here that everyone complains about that I actually enjoyed: the lack of story allows for occasional bits of loopy surrealism, the pounding synth soundtrack by Goblin’s Claudio Simonetti provides period atmosphere (that period being the '80s, of course) and the constant hazy shot-through-layers-of-gauze look I actually found quite fetching.
The Blancheville Monster (1963, released by Alpha 3/23/04)
Budget DVD outfit Alpha certainly doesn’t put a lot of effort into their public domain releases, but since they generally retail for under six bucks they are sometimes worth a gander. A case in point is this offering of an Alberto de Martino gothic black and white horror picture that has yet to see any other sort of release in the States. The film is a loose take on Poe’s The House of Usher, starring cult siren Helga Line in a dank setting of intrigue and woe. While it’s no real lost Italian classic, this one does manage to succeed on a number of levels — even in the typically soft Alpha pan and scan transfer on display here. For the cheap entry price, though, this’ll do until something better comes along.
Wonderland Limited Edition (2003, released by Lion’s Gate 2/10/04)
This take on the story of Johnny Wadd Holmes and the infamous 1981 murders with which he was associated is a workmanlike, pseudo-Rashomon version of those tragic events. Unfortunately, at the top the film suffers from poor casting as none of the three principals comport themselves all too well. Lisa Kudrow is the right type to play Holmes’ wife but is simply not a very good actress; Kate Bosworth is perhaps the best of the trio but doesn’t always hit the right notes in her portrayal of Dawn Schiller; and Val Kilmer as John Holmes is just plain sad. (Happily some of the minor players are much better — Eric Bogosian is excellent as sleazeball Eddie Nash and a nearly unrecognizable Dylan McDermott is truly amazing as crook David Lind). But while the film itself is somewhat disappointing, the limited DVD edition is really quite a nice package. Included is a fair commentary by the movie’s director and screenwriter, seven deleted scenes, brief interviews with many of the cast, production photos, tv spots and trailers and even a five minute Court TV rundown of the case. Two other extras really flesh this one out, though, the first being the full version of the excellent Wadd: The Life and Times of John Holmes, truly one of the best pornumentaries ever made. The other is what is quite possibly the single grimmest DVD extra I’ve ever encountered: a 30-minute crime scene video shot by the LAPD at the apartment house where the killings took place. Certainly not for the faint of heart, this last bonus inclusion sure goes a long way towards making real the brutality of what happened that fateful night, even if no one’s stories on what occurred really gibe.
Slaughter Hotel (1971, released by Media Blasters 3/30/2004)
While the product that comes out of Media Blasters is sometimes seemingly done with a cavalier lack of attention (or even falsely advertised), in 2004 the company seems to be performing relatively well. They’ve certainly done a more or less solid job with this Fernando di Leo slasher from the early '70s, though there is at least one botch job with the soundtrack where some mismatched audio is played over a crucial scene. But at least they’ve delivered to us the longer and much more softcore European edit of this Klaus Kinski piece in a fine 2:35 to 1 anamorphic form, allowing the ample assets of Rosalba Neri, Margaret Lee, Monica Strebel and Jane Garrett the bright treatment that they so deserve. The movie itself is fairly forgettable overall, but there are plenty of entertaining moments for genre fans. Also notable is the inclusion of a nice interview with the director where he pretty much indicates that he doesn’t like the film at all — but he’s happy that others do!
The Thundering Sword (1967, released in R3 by Celestial 6/10/2004)
Cheng Pei-pei rose to prominence once again with her year 2000 appearance in Ang Lee’s overrated Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon and has since seen many of her earlier works reappear with Celestial’s ambitious project of restoring hundreds of Shaw Brothers productions. If you have to choose only one of these to buy for your collection, results thus far indicate that Come Drink With Me remains the best evocation of the star’s great skill (though I suppose I should enter the caveat that my copies of Golden Swallow and Dragon Swamp haven’t gotten here as yet). While The Thundering Sword has its moments — it does, after all, also feature the brilliant Hong Kong actor Lo Lieh — aside from one spectacular killing spree, this movie is a little too talky to rank high in the canon of the martial arts star. Not one of her best, the film does at least boast the usually high production values that marked the studios’ productions and also has the added attraction of the lead showcasing her musical ability with a song. But there are other Cheng Pei-pei vehicles that you should seek out before picking up The Thundering Sword.
Lady Snowblood (1973, released by AnimEigo 6/1/2004)
Fresh on the heels of the ripoff character Lucy Liu plays in Kill Bill comes this DVD release of the most direct inspiration for that member of the Deadly Vipers. (We’ll have to wait for Synapse’s soon-to-come Thriller: A Cruel Picture to see the jumping off point for Darryl Hannah’s Elle Driver). Starring the fantastic Meiko Kaji as a revenge-driven swordswoman looking to avenge the cruel deaths of her parents, this motion picture is a taut and bloody dance of death that never strays from its cold and focused purpose. Younger viewers who have taken in Tarantino’s recent double Bill but have not yet explored the older sources that inform the director’s sensibility shouldn’t hesitate to seek out AnimEigo’s gorgeous transfer of this seminal bit of feminine swordplay. Highly recommended.
Land of the Lost: The Complete First Season (1974, released by Rhino 6/28/2004)
Return with me now to those halcyon days of yesteryear, where Saturday morning meant taking in a steady diet of Sid and Marty Kroft to kill time until the Creature Double Feature came on at one o’clock. This alternate universe kid’s show featured a family called the Marshalls, who are haplessly plunged into a bizarre parallel world filled with multiple dinosaurs, a missing link tribe of Pakuni and seven foot tall insectazoids known as the Sleestak. While nostalgia alone compelled me to purchase this set, the folks at Rhino have done an excellent job in delivering a release that is composed of far more than merely the shows alone. There are plentiful commentary tracks from the crew and its writers as well as the Krofts themselves, extensive interviews on disk number three and other additional bonus material that really makes this one worth what it costs. While unfortunately there isn’t any sign of hated Piston center and current WNBA coach Bill Laimbeer to detail his work as one of the Sleestak (once a villain always a villain, I say), there’s apparently still time to get that done — sales were solid enough that the even weirder Season Two hits the shelves at the end of September.
Virgin of Nuremberg (1963, released by Media Blasters 3/30/2004)
While the aforementioned Slaughter Hotel marked one nice 2004 entry to Media Blasters’ catalog, with this edition of a much better film the company has really done themselves proud. There’s still a sad lack of real extras (and honestly, if they’d just start providing commentaries and the like I’d go back to buying their disks instead of simply renting), but their widescreen transfer of this color Antonio Margheriti gem is a true visual treat. Giving hue to the usually black and white gothic tale of terror makes this one a rarity among early '60s Italian horror, and with the great Christopher Lee and the beautiful Rossana Podesta in the cast, there’s plenty to be said for it. The fairly intricate story itself also an attraction, and there’s some horrific nastiness that’s actually quite affecting at times. An excellent release that only needed some bonus material to really put it over the top.
Return of the Giant Monsters/The Magic Serpent (1967 and 1966, released by Retromedia 6/8/2004)
Did I say Creature Double Feature? Here’s a twofer that sure was filled with the lost echoes of childhood for this viewer. The initial film in this pair is the third in Daiei’s Gamera series, featuring the kid-friendly atomic turtle battling some sort of bat/reptile hybrid that drinks blood and can’t stand the sun, as if he’s some kind of dinosaur Dracula. Suitably silly stuff, featuring the requisite little fat kid and directed by the recently deceased Noriaki Yuasa. Much rarer is the second film in the set, Toei’s The Magic Serpent, which is a sort of historical fantasy mixed with kaiju elements. Feudal and interfamilial power politics meet love story and the end result is a no-holds-barred battle between a huge spider, a giant fire-breathing frog and an even huger water-breathing dragon. Retromedia here has licensed the AIP-TV prints for release, which has both its good and bad aspects. In a certain way it’s fun to have these bits of dubbed rubber-suited mayhem turn up just the way they used to on television in my formative years; but at the same time it’s bit harsh to put up with the vicious pan and scan treatment to which they have both been subjected. Still, though neither film is in any way an archival treatment, Retromedia has done a solid job in delivering the films in a manner that is likely as good as it’s going to get for these aging chestnuts.
Shaolin Mantis (1978, released by Celestial 6/10/2004)
Lau Kar-Leung has fast become my favorite of the martial arts directors who made films for the Shaw Brothers during the '70s - for while his films often contain dazzling bits of fighting, they are usually more focused on character and story than many kung fu classics. The director also has a penchant for strong heroines, paying tribute to feminine power in a manner that’s most unusual for Hong Kong films of the period. Shaolin Mantis certainly offers up much to please any aficionado of the filmmaker’s work, as David Chiang plays a man who is sent to spy on a rival clan by the Emperor after beating up on a Mongolian and a Shaolin challenger (the latter played by the great Gordon Liu). While on his mission he runs into the beautiful yet bratty Huang Hsing-hsiu, Lily Li and a host of their male compatriots. Much insane fighting and turns of plot follow, all of it buoyed by breakneck editing and the characteristically brisk camerawork of the director’s style. A must buy for any martial arts maven.
The Creeping Flesh (1972, released 6/8/2004 by Columbia/TriStar)
It's Hammer Time! (Or not, as an astute reader has pointed out that this is really a Tigon Production. But there's so many Hammer regulars in attendance that I'm sticking with my lousy joke). Actors Peter Cushing and Christopher Lee team up in an early '70s bit of horror that's slightly more modernized than much of the more gothic oriented material that they appeared in throughout their heyday. Directed by two-time Oscar winner Freddie Francis (though those awards came for cinematography), this slightly convoluted tale of an ancient skeleton with the power of evil moves right along throughout its 90 minute length, even with its somewhat scattershot plot. It also features the gorgeous Lorna Heilbron, whose excellent performance here makes you wonder why she wasn't used more often. You'll note some other classic faces in the cast, making this one especially entertaining for those raised on a steady diet of British scarifying fare. An excellent transfer also makes this one worthwhile - but where are the extras?
Anyway, there’s a quick recap of the sort of thing that’s been moving through my DVD player of late. There’s more besides, but I’m only three-fifths of the way through Warners’ Film Noir collection and it’s fairly possible that there’ll be a full review of that one coming up in the near future. And the other things that I’ve been catching up on, I’m sure you don’t need me to complain about — it’s likely that you probably already figured out on your own just how awful The Hulk and The League of Extraordinary Gentlemen were. I just wish you’d warned me.
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