HONG KONG 1941 (Eureka)

Hong Kong 1941
(Eureka)
Originally Released Nov. 1st, 1984 
Written by Koon-Chung Chan
Directed by Po-Chih Leong
Starring Cecilia Yip, Chow Yun-Fat, Alex Man, Paul Chun, Wu Ma
Language: Cantonese (w/English subtitles) and optional English dub track

Buy it HERE from Eureka, HERE from MVD, or HERE from Diabolik

by "Doc" Hunter Bush, MJ Podcast Director

The Movie: Excellent

An action romance with epic aspirations but a much more intimate focus, Hong Kong 1941 gallops through set-ups and familiar story beats with a looseness that I really enjoyed. To be fair, there's a lot to set up: Yip (Chow Yun-Fat) comes to Hong Kong to stay with his very sweet aunt and decidedly salty uncle. He butts up against local tough guy Wong (Alex Man) and falls for the sickly but lovely local girl--who Wong is also, somewhat secretly enamored with--Nam (Cecilia Yip). The three of them are fast friends, and form a loose love triangle where everybody behaves themselves (mostly).

There's also some complications involving a local rice magnate who happens to be Nam's father who just fires his workers whenever they want to be paid fairly; a local crime boss / politician Chairman Liu (Wu Ma), and police sergeant Fa-wing (Paul Chun) who especially has it out for Wong. As interwoven as our three leads' lives are with each other, they're being equally dragged into confrontations with these outside obstacles and aggressors. As I said, there's a lot of track to lay before the film drops its biggest bomb: actual bombs.

The spine of this story is built around the Japanese occupation of Hong Kong during World War II. So on top of the ephemeral, emotional stakes are incredibly tangible, real-world hardships and danger. For what it's worth, I think the script, by Koon-Chung Chan, does an incredible job balancing these things. The war is never fully just a backdrop for the interpersonal drama, it's never allowed to feel commonplace. Scenes that are primarily about developing our leads' stories or characters also showcase actions of the invading Japanese army, from the comparatively innocuous--like rewarding children with food for singing in Japanese--to the outright hideous--hunting down and assaulting the local women.

The fact that Hong Kong 1941 manages to maintain an (overall) light feeling is truly impressive. The love triangle never feels overwrought, the violence and danger never feels excessive, and the whole thing works thanks to director Po-Chih Leong, editor Peter Cheung, and the performances of our leads. I've been a fan of Chow Yun-Fat for a long time. He just has an effortlessness to him that borders on cocky without, for me, ever tipping over the line. Both Alex Man and Cecilia Yip play extremely well off of him and each other, and you can really feel and understand that they all care for each other.

As a war movie, Hong Kong 1941 might be lacking in scope, but that was never its focus. While a war, which is a comparatively abstract concept, can most certainly be interesting, it's the people affected by it that make a story worth telling.

The Packaging: Excellent

Eureka Entertainment's cases are just a bit larger than your standard, closer to Criterion's, which is either nice, because it feels a bit sturdier, or annoying if you'd like all of your Blu-rays to be uniform. This one also comes with a cardboard slip and a reversible cover. The minimalist art on the slip--a hand holding a katana, with our three leads in miniature, standing on the tsuba (guard), in high contrast black and blood red on a deep orange background--is on one side of the cover, with a fantastic painted illustration of Yip, Wong, and certain key scenes on the other.

Also included is a booklet featuring an essay from Hong Kong and Chinese Cinema specialist Gary Bettinson about director Po-Chih Leong which gives a very solid overview of his career. If you've read any of my other Disc Dispatches, you'll know I love context. Additionally there are some wonderful photos from the production in the booklet.

The Audio + Video: Excellent

I thought this looked tremendous. The opening scene (maybe two?) had a slight peach tint to things that I wasn't crazy about. On one hand, it had the overall effect of a sepia filter in that it sort of helped sell the whole "this story takes place in the past" thing, but I was worried it would overstay its welcome. It doesn't, subtly fading to something cooler that makes the blues and greens in the costumes and locations pop and somehow feels more urgent and in-the-moment.

There's some film grain present, but it's a good amount; it lets you feel the movie, the weight of its history. Something I noticed near the end of the film that I found weirdly charming is that you can, occasionally, see the shadows of moths circling the set lights. Imperfections, if you even want to think of them as such, are proof that this was made by people, and through, I'm sure, no small amount of effort. I love that.

I noticed no issues with the audio at all. There is a certain distance to the sound that is era appropriate, but it's not nearly as noticeable as other films from this era. Whether this is the result of the filmmaking at the time, or any sort of restoration, I'm not sure. Regardless, everything came through very clearly, even at times when contrasting sounds--like a gentle score playing alongside the sounds of a boat engine--were present.

Special Features: Excellent

I won't pretend that every single piece of additional material on here was fascinating or enlightening, but much of it was. And there's just so much of it that I'm actually not sure where it was that I learned what became the background information I was most obsessed with: this was made because of Margaret Thatcher!

What I mean is (and forgive me if I'm getting details wrong): Thatcher bungled some deal or another which led to Britain losing their longstanding control of Hong Kong to the Chinese in 1984, which reminded many people (including filmmakers) of the Japanese invasion after Pearl Harbor in 1941. This film as well as a film called Love in a Fallen City (1984, dir. Ann Hui), both set in that era, were each released within the same year and, coincidentally, both star Chow Yun-Fat!

For reasons that I think should be obvious, I've been wondering about world history, the lessons we may or may not be learning from it, and the impact that has on people who just want to live their lives as peacefully as they are able. This gave me quite a lot to chew on.

• Tony Rayns on Hong Kong 1941 (30:29)
• Crossing Cultures with Po-Chih Leong (21:47)
• Po-Chih Leong on Hong Kong 1941 and Cultural Identity (recorded at East Film Fest 2023) (21:38)
• Archival Interviews
• Cecilia Yip 1 (29:09)
• Cecilia Yip 2 (4:23)
• Cecilia Yip 3 (11:33)
• Chow Yun-Fat 1 (13:13)
• Chow Yun-Fat 2 (5:33)
  
• Paul Chun (a.k.a. Paul Pui) (8:30)
• Hong Kong theatrical trailer (4:03)
• International release trailer (3:48)

• Included booklet with an essay from Gary Bettinson

In Summary: Buy it on sale

While I was knocked out by Hong Kong 1941, and I was, I admit that this type of film might not be for literally everyone. Sure, few films are, but some are, and it is for those that I'll reserve the absolute highest recommendation. As it stands, this is an incredibly strong offering. As a film, it's an excellent bit of historical melodrama. As a release this is incredibly rewarding, with plenty of additional materials to inform the production and its history. It's also the first time Hong Kong 1941 has been made available on Blu-ray outside of Asia.

This has some absolutely gorgeous moments, both visually and emotionally and I think anyone with an interest in Asian cinema would be well-served to have this on their shelves. 

SPOONFUL OF SUGAR (Shudder)

Spoonful of Sugar
Shudder

The Stats
Video: 1080p High Definition
Audio: Dolby Digital (DTS-MA 5.1)
Subtitles: English SDH (French subs available in menu)

Buy it HERE from Vinegar Syndrome or HERE from Diabolik

by "Doc" Hunter Bush, MovieJawn Staff Writer and Podcast Director

Spoonful of Sugar comes to Blu-ray from Shudder. Directed by experienced short film and television director Mercedes Bryce Morgan in her debut feature, the film at times feels overstuffed with influences and concepts, but is satisfying in the end. The quality of the audio and visual transfer makes up for the somewhat slim assemblage of bonus features.

The Movie: Good

Spoonful of Sugar, the debut feature from director Mercedes Bryce Morgan, is a bit scattered overall, but features more good than bad ultimately. Ostensibly a riff on the character of Mary Poppins considering the title and the nanny lead, the film does very little with those things, instead crafting a psychosexual thriller that tries its best to keep viewers on their toes.

Millicent (Morgan Saylor) is the new nanny for Johnny (Danilo Crovetti) a boy with behavioral issues and a laundry list of allergens as long as your arm: sugar, gluten, seeds of any kind, strawberries, smoke, and artificial fabrics "...so please, only organic stuffed animals" leading to him only leaving the house wearing a makeshift astronaut outfit. Johnny's parents are  Rebecca (Kat Foster) a self-help author of child behavior books, and stay-at-home carpenter Jacob (Myko Olivier), who swap sympathy in the viewers' eyes as the film progresses. One will seem to be more benevolent and concerned about Johnny than the other before further details and behaviors reverse these positions, and on and on, with the occasional larger shocking development thrown in for good measure. We also fairly quickly learn that Milli has been prescribed lysergic acid diethylamide, a.k.a. LSD, to help treat her own issues.

Milli is an interesting POV character. An unreliable narrator even to herself, she's prone to emotional outbursts when placed in situations where she is made uncomfortable, but her constant psychedelic state means not everything is exactly as she (and we) see it. Milli's hallucinations never go full Pink Elephants on Parade, instead sticking in a more subtle area, like not being sure if you've just seen a mouse out of the corner of your eye. Plenty of visual effects, like different film speeds and processes, wiggly distortion and smeary lighting, are all used to show Milli’s disconnect from baseline reality.

The most interesting aspect of Milli for me was trying to discern whether she was the prey or the predator. Are her actions deliberately, knowingly harmful, or does she see it as defending herself and protecting her interests? As we learn more about her, as well as Rebecca and Jacob, it gradually becomes clear: no one is exactly "right" so much as there are some who are, maybe "less wrong". The very end of the film, the credits in fact, reveal aspects of the story that you didn't know you were missing which is a very fun, creative development.

The Packaging: Good

The standard cover features an image of Milli dripping LSD into her mouth via an eyedropper with Johnny's spacesuit helmet in the background. The inside cover features a still from the film of Milli and Johnny spending the afternoon in the yard, specifically they're examining a Nativity scene set up. Oh, did I not mention that Spoonful of Sugar is a Christmas movie? Well as someone who loves a good non-standard film to add to my holiday watchlists, I was as pleasantly surprised as (I hope) you are right now.

There is a special limited edition slipcover available, designed by Corinne Halbert, with depictions of some key imagery from the film set against a lilac background on the front cover, and a moment from the film of Milli surreptitiously bleeding on the back cover.

The Video: Good

The transfer looks great. The film is largely given a cool or overcast quality but Mercedes Bryce Morgan and cinematographer Nick Matthews (who would go on to be director of photography for Saw X, if that does anything for you) manage to wring every ounce of color out of their exterior shots and craft interior scenes with deep shadows and warm honeyed tones. There are moments of extremely high contrast shadows that are clearly meant to be pure black, which makes the depth and texture of the other shadows feel all the more rich. Everything looks sharp, with diffuse and ambient lighting creating a surprising sense of intimacy at times.

The Audio: Good

The Dolby DTS-HD 5.1 worked perfectly well on my three-channel soundbar. The rooms felt like they had depth and dimension, the occasional tones underlining Milli's hallucinations sometimes felt like they were coming from my periphery. I never had any issues with unclear dialogue or muddy sound quality.

The Special Features: Good

I will be honest with you, a lot of these features didn't do much for me. The two featurettes, "The Story" and "The Horror", are extremely slim interview clips, and when combined with the teaser and trailer included, four of the six bonus features are promo for a disc that, if you're watching them, you've already bought. But. Then we have the commentary and the BTS features, both of which are very informative about the making of the film. A brief heads up: the BTS footage is nearly 3½ hours of mostly dialogue-free footage of the team workshopping and filming a handful of scenes from the film. It's mostly devoid of context, but it's a great peek into the actual process of filmmaking.

• Commentary with director Mercedes Bryce Morgan and producers Matt Miller, Natalie Metzger, and Katrina Kudlick
• Behind the Scenes footage (3:20:20) (HD)
• "The Story" featurette (1:57) (HD)
• "The Horror" featurette (1:06) (HD)
• Original teaser (0:33) (HD)
• Original trailer (1:27) (HD)

• Booklet featuring an essay from BJ Colangelo

In Summary: Recommended

Spoonful of Sugar is well and stylishly-made, but feels overstuffed with concepts, developments, turns, and angles from which to approach its themes. It's not a bad problem to have, all things considered, but it might not be satisfying for all viewers. On the other hand, the fact that it avoids direct depictions of onscreen bloodshed for the most part, until the climax which is decidedly violent and bloody, means it could be a strong recommendation for horror / thriller viewers who don't dig on gore.

CARNAL KNOWLEDGE (Criterion)

Carnal Knowledge
Criterion
June 30th, 1971

Written by Jules Feiffer
Directed by Mike Nichols
Starring Jack Nicholson, Art Garfunkel, Candice Bergen, Ann-Margaret, Rita Moreno
English

Buy it HERE from Diabolik or HERE from Criterion

by "Doc" Hunter Bush, Staff Writer and Podcast Director

The Movie: Excellent

Carnal Knowledge blew my mind. All I really knew going into this, aside from the pedigree of the cast and crew, was the whole censorship debacle which ultimately resulted in the film being re-released with a new tagline: "The United States Supreme Court has ruled that Carnal Knowledge is not obscene. See it now!" As a result of that, I knew this was sexually candid but not necessarily explicit. What I didn't expect was an examination of what is now recognized as toxic masculinity from a 54 year-old film that's also expressly feminist, and wildly understated. The dialogue showcases screenwriter Jules Feiffer's razor sharp knack for observation, the performances are incredibly magnetic, and the filmmaking from director Mike Nichols and editor Sam O'Steen allows for plenty of room for the actors to shine.

Sandy (Art Garfunkel) and John (Jack Nicholson) are college roommates who bond by talking about sex and love. John is the more vulgar of the two, goading Sandy to push girlfriend Susan (Candice Bergen) for more action. Once Sandy informs him he's finally getting somewhere with her, John calls her up himself, and they begin an affair. At this point, I thought we were going to have a basic love-triangle story with Susan enjoying the connection she shares with Sandy, but also responding to the sensuality of John while both of the men yearn for the kind of relationship with her that the other has. But then something magical happens. The film just casually slips forward in time. No subtitles to denote the jump, nothing aside from John & Sandy's change in appearance and their dialogue. 

This trust in the audience is emblematic of the steady hand behind the camera. Drawing on Feiffer's background as a cartoonist--his weekly strip in The Village Voice ran for forty years!--Nichols utilizes long takes of characters talking (frequently all but directly to camera), rarely cutting away for coverage of the other person. He also tends towards long shots of the women as the men talk, allowing us to experience these outwardly mundane conversations through them as they process what is being said, and said about them. For a movie that on the surface seems obsessed with men & maleness, this is a powerfully feminist filmmaking choice.

Carnal Knowledge is not a film everyone will enjoy watching. It is at times ugly, revealing, explicit and embarrassing. Not unlike the titular characters in Mikey and Nicky (1976, dir. Elaine May) neither of our leading men are especially likeable, but they're sadly all too common. Fun fact: Mike Nichols and Elaine May were the influential comedy duo Nichols and May from '59-'62. Even at 54 years on, this kind of warts-and-all look at toxic masculinity is perhaps even more important that it was at release.

Culturally we're at a low point in the pursuit of equality, respect, and safety for anyone not represented by this type of well-off white men. Carnal Knowledge doesn't offer any answers. How could it? But it also doesn't soften these men or their slide into irrelevance any; it doesn't let them off the hook. Depiction, importantly, does not equal endorsement.

The Packaging: Good

This is your typical Criterion release, which is by-and-large pretty damn good. If you're unfamiliar, their cases are a little larger than the standard Blu-ray, a little sturdier and more durable. The cover wouldn’t feel out of place had it been the poster in 1971, with its muted, autumnal palette and four head shots. It also has an image on the inside of Jack Nicholson sitting naked, smoking a cigarette, in an armchair.

This version also comes with a 40-page booklet featuring an essay from Moira Weigel and an article from Herb A. Lightman which features conversations with cinematographer Giuseppe Rotunno and production designer Richard Sylbert (originally published in the January 1971 issue of American Cinematographer). Weigel's essay especially resonated with me, affirming some of my feelings about the film and elucidating other facets I wasn't considering. These kinds of additional materials are really what's important about re/releasing older films. Cultural and social context are incredibly vital aspects to make clear for new viewers.

The Audio + Video: Excellent

I had no issues with either the audio or visual presentation. There is some film grain, and a certain very slight muffling to the audio, but both of those are merely signs of having been made in a bygone era. They add a sensory warmth to the whole experience for me, while looking and sounding perhaps as good as the film ever has. With a film as dialogue-centric as this one is, you want to make sure things sound as good as possible, and let me assure you: this does.

The included booklet has a paragraph about the audio & video mastering that underlines a very important elephant in the room: this master was created using the 35mm separation masters because the original camera negative had become too damaged and moldy. Film preservation is such an important undertaking, as is, I feel, owning and making available all varieties of film.

Special Features: Excellent

I recently wrote about Criterion's release of The Wiz and lamented the lack of some theoretical special features to add greater context to the film. In contrast, Carnal Knowledge is a wealth of context. The two half-hour-ish conversations were very interesting, even though I find Jason Reitman somewhat tedious. The piece focusing on the editing was extremely enlightening and gave me an added dimension to keep an eye on during my rewatch with commentary, which I am very thankful for because the editing is so subtle and unflashy that it might otherwise have passed me by. As it stands, the editing is one of my favorite parts of the film. But my favorite of these materials was definitely the podcast with Jules Feiffer, who I found to be incredibly entertaining and fascinating.

• Commentary track from filmmaker and playwright Neil LaBute
• A conversation between Mark Harris (Mike Nichols' biographer) and film critic Dana Stevens (29:04)
• A conversation between Mike Nichols and director Jason Reitman (36:02)
  
• An episode of the To Live & Dialogue podcast w/Jules Feiffer (43:20)
• Bobbie O'Steen on the editing (19:15)
• Trailer (0:57)
• Radio spot (0:59)

In Summary: Must Own

There are any number of good reasons to own Criterion's Carnal Knowledge release. The acting, direction, screenwriting, and editing are all masterclass-level examples of their respective craft. The story here is frequently uncomfortable, but nonetheless riveting. But for me, I think the best reason might be spite.

Personally, I rankle at outside entities trying to control what entertainments I can and cannot access, and as I mentioned above, when Carnal Knowledge was initially released, it screened at a theater in Georgia resulting in an obscenity case that took about two years to resolve, and went all the way to the U.S. Supreme Court, where it was, and I cannot stress this enough, found not to be anything you could call obscene. As with banned books, or adult entertainment, I like having at my disposal something that the pearl-clutching masses decidedly did not want to be widely available. Sometimes, spite can be a great motivator. But with that comes the caveat: this may not be for all tastes. And that is fine. Everything doesn't need to be for everyone, but everyone should be allowed to decide what is for them.

Live Like a Cop, Die Like a Man (Kino Raro)

Live Like a Cop, Die Like a Man

Kino Raro

The Stats
Video: 1080p High Definition
Audio: DTS-HD Master 2.0 mono (on both the original Italian and English dub tracks)
Subtitles: SDH

Buy it HERE from Diabolik or HERE from Kino Lorber

by "Doc" Hunter Bush, Staff Writer and Podcast Director

Live Like a Cop, Die Like a Man comes to Blu-ray from Kino Raro. Directed by the occasionally controversial Ruggero Deodato (Cannibal Holocaust), the film is a blast of juvenile impulse without a thought for consequence. The excellent visual and audio transfers on this Kino release more than make up for the slightly underwhelming array of special features.

The Movie: Excellent / 4.5 star

Let me just say that the title Live Like a Cop, Die Like a Man is one of the craziest, best titles I've heard and it's been rattling around in my head all week. With that out of the way, we can get down to business: this flick is nuts (complimentary)! Gleefully violent and oddly lighthearted in equal measure, LLACDLAM feels like an afternoon playing cops 'n' robbers in the imaginations of two children.

Alfredo (Marc Porel) and Antonio (Ray Lovelock) are two slender, casually stylish, devastatingly handsome Special Force cops in Rome who spend their time riding around on one motorcycle together, sexually harassing the Special Force secretary Norma (Silvia Dionisio), and casually killing anyone and anything that gets in their way. Director Ruggero Deodato's (Cannibal Holocaust) dark sense of humor is present throughout, adding to the dizzy, pleasantly chaotic feel of events. There is an overarching plot about the culmination of a three-year sting operation to bring down a crime boss known as Bibi (Renato Salvatori), but it's honestly barely a concern beyond acting as a framing device for the shenanigans of Alfredo and Antonio, or as I think of them: The Crime Bois!

This isn't a unique structure. Most people remember the action sequences from their favorite films over the actual plots, and with LLACDLAM, it's easy to see why. The production really makes the most of its modest budget. One of the most famous aspects of the film was its opening motorcycle chase through Rome, which famously they did not acquire permits for (à la The French Connection), and features one of if not the first instance of a motorcycle popping a wheelie in a feature film! The chase crosses the city, with our Crime Bois riding individual motorcycles, weaving through traffic to capture two purse snatchers who inevitably end up dead. According to the supplemental materials, obtaining permission would have cost $3-4 million, plus two weeks' worth of insurance costs, so they did it guerrilla style, and anytime the cops showed up, they would all simply move to a new location, which ends up giving the chase a wide variety of locales that I suppose they wouldn't have had otherwise.

Porel and Lovelock make for a fantastic and fascinating on-screen pair. Though they're both in almost every scene, they remain ciphers. At some point in the commentary track from film historian Rachael Nisbet, she mentions that supposedly one of them was playing the hot-head and the other the more reserved one, but even she seems skeptical about these supposed archetypes. As depicted, they're foppish goofballs who dump copious amounts of sugar in their coffee, roll around in a loose dirt culvert shooting target-practice at each other, and sexually tag-team the (I should emphasize: very willing) crime boss' daughter Lina (Sofia Dionisio) when they go to her place for information.

This film falls into the Italian Poliziotteschi subgenre, which I was only intellectually familiar with before now, and is written by one of its giants: Fernando Di Leo, whose shadow looms large across the special features. But I have no idea if this is a good entry point to the genre or not. It was well received, there were even talks of a sequel but Porel's on-set behavior made Lovelock hesitant to be put in a situation where he would have to rely on Porel, which amongst other factors like a producer deciding he would direct it instead of having Deodato return, lead to a sequel never materializing. That said, I can't imagine the silliness present here to be indicative of the genre as a whole, can it? If so, I might have found my new hyperfixation.

The Packaging: Average / 3 star

In the film, Antonio's bedside table has three items: an alarm clock, an ashtray, and a full-size silver skull. This release is a little like that: minimalist, but a perfect indicator of what you’re getting into bed with. The cover is an illustration of Alfredo and Antonio posed as they do on their shared motorcycle, both pointing guns, with a smaller illustration of the pair of fleeing purse-snatchers on their own motorcycle. It also advertises that this is the 4K restoration, and that it's from Ruggero Deodato above the original Italian translation of the title: Uomini Si Nasce, Poliziotti Si Muore (which more literally translates to Men Are Born, Cops Die). There's nothing especially noteworthy about the packaging here, but that's perfectly fine.

The Video: Good / 4.5 star

From what little I knew about this film, I was expecting it to be much rougher-looking than it is. I knew that most of the Poliziotteschi films were shot sort of on-the-fly, and I knew Ruggero Deodato's background of having perfected his craft under Roberto Rossellini. I figured that the resulting film would have a real run-and-gun quality to it that might very well extend to the visual fidelity. To say I was pleasantly surprised would be a fair assessment.

To start with, there is some film grain present here, but not nearly as much as I'd have expected. The colors are well-balanced enough, if maybe a touch washed out, except for the fire, which really calls into contrast how cool-toned the rest of the visuals are. Turquoise, blues, blacks and tans monopolize the film's palette, but even the Coke machine visible in a late scene isn't as candy-red as I know it should be. None of this detracts from the film's overall quality, to be clear, instead working in a way similar to sepia tone, to cast Live Like a Cop, Die Like a Man as something from a bygone era.

The Audio: Good / 4.5 star

Famously, Italian productions from this era didn't really record live sound often, which lead to the whole 'Spaghetti Western' phenomenon, at least as far as it allowed for the casting of recognizable actors from multiple markets and countries, regardless of how well they all spoke any given language, since they'd all have to be dubbed anyway. As a result, LLACDLAM has that ADR sound to it overall; the quality of having been recorded in a studio divorced from the various locations and moments. Like certain aspects of the visuals mentioned above, this doesn't detract from the experience for me.

Quality wise, my soundbar is of the three-channel variety and this stereo mix sounded perfectly fine. If your ideal audio experience involves multidirectional sonic immersion, this probably won't cut the mustard for you, but you will be able to hear and appreciate everything easily.

One fun thing is comparing the Italian and English dubs: They're not drastically different viewing experiences, plot and tone-wise, but the language is sometimes very different in really interesting and amusing ways. For instance, when the Crime Bois show up for their usual playful harassment of Norma, in the Italian language version she greets them by calling them "Hotshots!" while in the English dub she says "My dear cocksmen!" Wild stuff. Gotta love it.

The Special Features: Good / 4 star

I would like there to have been more about the writer, and perhaps godfather of Poliziotteschi (is that fair to say?) Fernando Di Leo since the trailers are for some of his other works. There's a nice chunk of the commentary about him, but I'd like to have come away from this with a more concise idea of where this sits in both his oeuvre and Poliziotteschi as a genre and maybe a fuller watchlist? But that's just spitting into the wind.

As for what's here, the commentary by Rachael Nisbet was very informative and helpful. For instance, I was initially a bit put off by the sexism with regards to how the Crime Bois treat Norma, but Nisbet seems to feel that the movie is laughing WITH Norma and not AT her, which eases my conscience a bit. I also really dug the included documentary, which gives great insight to the production of the film. Deodato's included commercial spots are interesting as well, but could ideally have been placed in a wider context.

• Audio commentary with film historian Rachael Nisbet
• Archival documentary Violent Police
• TV spots directed by and with commentary from Ruggero Deodato
• Trailers
• Milieu Trilogy rerelease trailer
• Caliber 9 (1972)
• The Italian Connection (1972)

In Summary: Grab it on sale / 4 star

Live Like a Cop, Die Like a Man is a giddy sugar-high of a crime film. The pacing, characters, and filmmaking all present the indelible energy of youth and an equally immature outlook: these Crime Bois are impervious to harm either physical or emotional, and beyond consequence for their actions. They kill with a casualness that would be chilling if this felt like a real world. Luckily, for us as much as for them, it does not.

I won't spoil the finale for you, but trust me when I say LLACDLAM ends with a gloriously violent shrug from our leads that left my jaw on the floor. If you compare Alfredo and Antonio to other so-called "loose-cannons" from similar cops and criminals films, the Crime Bois come out, as they always do, on top. A trail of bodies and numerous exploded vehicles in their wake, without a scratch on them. Fans of action and genre cinema will want to make space for this release on their bedside table. Right between the ashtray and the life-size silver skull.

The Last Stop In Yuma County (Umbrella Entertainment)

The Last Stop in Yuma County
Umbrella Entertainment

The Stats
Video: 1080p High Definition
Audio: DTS-HD 5.1 (2.0 available in menu)
Subtitles: SDH

Buy it HERE from Umbrella or HERE from Diabolik

by "Doc" Hunter Bush, Staff Writer and Podcast Director

The Last Stop in Yuma County comes to blu-ray from Umbrella Entertainment. Writer / director Francis Galluppi makes a strong case that independent cinema is still thriving in this so-called "dusty noir" with an ensemble cast and a simple but engaging premise. The disc release features fantastic audio & video quality and is loaded with commentaries and other BTS features that elucidate the indie filmmaking process, making it quite a worthwhile purchase.

The Movie: 4.5 stars

Depending on whom you ask, The Last Stop in Yuma County is either a "dusty noir" or a straight up western (though without getting too nitpicky, I think it would be a neo-western, right?). Regardless, it's a fantastic little thriller as soaked in tension as it is in sweat. Making his feature debut, writer/director Francis Galluppi shows a real talent and affinity behind both the camera and keyboard, despite by his own admission, just sort of falling into filmmaking while on a hiatus from drumming in punk bands.

With the fuel delivery for the last gas station in Yuma County running late, traveler after traveler are forced to wait in the diner next door including an unnamed knife salesman (Jim Cummings), a married couple on vacation (Gene Jones and Robin Bartlett), and two bank robbers (Richard Brake and Nicholas Logan). It doesn't take long for the cork on the growing tension to pop with Beau (Brake) and Travis (Logan) taking everyone hostage. The tension and the temperature continues to rise as diner waitress Charlotte (Jocelin Donahue) tries to get help from local cops, including her husband, without alerting the robbers or putting anyone in danger. It's a legitimately thrilling, small scale idea and executed very stylishly. There's a montage set to Roy Orbison's 'Crying' that is genuinely amazing; languid filmmaking that maintains the tension.

The Last Stop in Yuma County doesn't have a traditional lead. While Charlotte behaves with the most personal agency, as a main character would, the knife salesman is the obvious audience surrogate. I love Jim Cummings as a performer and filmmaker--see: Thunder Road (2018), The Wolf of Snow Hollow (2020) for starters--and, not to knock him in any way, but I was excited to see him play a character outside of his usual comfort zone. While the knife salesman is still somewhat anxious and unassuming, a hallmark of Cummings' usual leads, he lacks the dunderheaded bravura that he usually writes for himself. At least one of the commentary tracks mentions that the character was written with a Jimmy Stewart type of performance in mind, a tone which I think Cummings nails.

In a piece like this, one where the action is small-scale and tension-based, you really get the opportunity, nay, the privilege!, to soak in the character performances and maybe find new actors you love. For me, that was Nicholas Logan as Travis. According to the commentary track(s), Logan is nothing like Travis, but fully inhabited the character once action was called. Small character details like him doing the hook 'em horns instead of the peace sign to signify "Two coffees", and wiping down his armpits and then face with napkins, rather the in the other order, weren't included in the script, but help to perfectly convey who Travis is.

The Last Stop in Yuma County is just a tremendous feature. It gives a plethora of actors plenty of room to shine, looks fantastic, has an excellent soundtrack, has some genuinely surprising turns, and a delightfully cynical tone. As a film, and specifically an example of a "dusty noir" or the neo-western, Yuma succeeds. I usually end reviews of first or early features by mentioning that I'm looking forward to whatever the writer and/or director have coming next. That's especially true this time, because as mentioned in one of the bonus features, Francis Galluppi is attached to one of the upcoming Evil Dead films! I love the Evil Dead franchise and think that, after not enjoying the 2013 Fede Alvarez version, the franchise has collectively righted the ship.

The Packaging: 4 stars

This is your basic physical release packaging with a reversible cover, but oddly the only difference between the two sides of the cover is one includes the M rating box for mature themes, violence and coarse language. The illustration is a collage of characters from the film above the diner location in the style of many posters, especially now. Is there a term for this type of image, where dissociated objects, moments and people from a film are arranged sort of blooming out from the center, like a fountain or a totem pole?

One thing I will add is that I genuinely love the tagline for the flick, which appears on the back cover: "Never bring a knife salesman to a gunfight." That's just chef's kiss selling your movie to me.

The Video: 5 stars

The Last Stop in Yuma County looks tremendous. Despite filming in occasionally inclement weather, there's a depth to the visuals, and a warmth to the lighting that makes the reds pop and gives the turquoise of Charlotte's uniform the chatoyancy of a jewel on a silk pillow. Do you guys like that I used the word 'chatoyancy' ? It's one of my favorite words and I almost never get to use it. It really applies here however. There truly is a jewel box quality to the light, colors, and shadows inside the diner that's just exquisite.

Not to imply that the exterior shots aren't up to snuff. Since the film takes place over the course of one day, the opening and finale are shot at golden hour, which always looks incredible, hence its desirability to cinematographers and directors. There's also a very tense sequence following the knife salesman out into the parking lot that has a very tangible, voyeuristic quality to it. If I had one criticism of the overall look of the film, it's that it never quite looks or feels as hot as I think it's supposed to, but the heat, from a broken AC unit in the diner, isn't a main plot point or anything, just a detail to heighten the pressure.

And hey, just as a quick aside, which I'm putting here because I don't know exactly where else to put this bit of praise: The subtitles are bold AND outlined which makes SUCH a difference. There's nothing worse than a release that clearly has not considered the color or legibility of its subs.

The Audio: 5 stars

Aside from the aforementioned soundtrack, which features, in addition to the Orbison track, 'Midnight Train to Georgia' by Gladys Knight & The Pips, 'I'm Gonna Make You Mine' by Lou Christie, and 'Let's Live for Today' by The Grass Roots (fun fact: if I'm not mistaken, this era of the band featured Creed Bratton from The Office on guitar). The reason I mention these songs is twofold. Firstly, the film allows them some room to breathe, they aren't merely in the background for a moment. Also: they're bangers and they sound excellent here.

My three-channel soundbar obviously handled the 2.0 mix especially well, but the 5.1 still sounded decent. The majority of the sound was coming through the center channel, but on a sonic level, the film isn't especially dense. The twinkly harpsichord and soaring strings of 'Love is Blue' (a.k.a. L'Amour est Bleu) by Paul Mauriat, which opens the film, mixes well with the gravelly rumbling of tires on the desert road without either distracting from the other or becoming muddy. The film, while not exactly what I'd call 'mumblecore' is fairly soft-spoken at times, but I believe that's a choice, not a failing of the mix.

The Special Features: 4.5 stars

This release is a treasure trove of insight into filmmaking in general and this type of film in specific. There are three discrete commentary tracks, all of which feature writer/director Francis Galluppi paired with at least one other person, and while some things are repeated, I was pleasantly surprised by the diversity of the discussions overall. All of them, as well as the hour long Scream Dreams interview, are filled with filmmaking tips. Most interestingly, there's a sizzle reel for an apparently upcoming documentary called Sell Your House about the making of The Last Stop in Yuma County and the lengths that producer James Claeys went to to secure funding.

• Audio Commentary with director Francis Galluppi and producer James Claeys
• Audio Commentary with director Francis Galluppi and actors Jim Cummings and Jocelin Donahue
• Audio Commentary with director Francis Galluppi and cinematographer Mac Fisken
• Sell Your House documentary sizzle reel (8:27)
• Scream Dreams interview with director Francis Galluppi (1:05:48)
• Behind the Scene stills gallery (3:46)
• Trailer (2:11)

In Summary: Highly Recommended

While, for me, this is firmly a Must Own situation, looking at it objectively, it's still at least Highly Recommended. Stylish, incredibly well-cast, and really well-paced, The Last Stop in Yuma County is a debut feature that, in a different era, would have made Francis Galluppi a household name before this disc had even been pressed. But as things stand, it's gonna take just a little longer, but I've got a feeling it'll happen and there's no stopping it.

And if you need just one last reason to pick this up: the film features a small cameo appearance from genre legend Barbara Crampton! There. Now you're onboard, right? 

OBEX (2025)

OBEX
Directed by Albert Birney
Written by Albert Birney, Pete Ohs
Starring Albert Birney, Callie Hernandez, Paisley Isaacs, Frank Mosley, Dorothy
Running time 1 hour and 30 minutes
Currently unrated by the MPA

by "Doc" Hunter Bush, Staff Writer and Podcast Director

One of my favorite films from my time covering the 2021 Fantasia International Film Festival was a weird little piece of brain candy that got stuck somewhere in my mind called Strawberry Mansion. A near-future dystopia film where an omniscient megacorpo has the ability to audit dreams in order to draw more taxes, Strawberry Mansion highlighted a distinct visual and tonal style, a strong sense of individuality, and a touching message about love, art, and the importance of living a life. It stayed with me--enough so that I picked up the physical release as soon as I could--and firmly put filmmakers Albert Birney and Kentucker Audley on the map for me.

OBEX comes once again from director Birney, going solo on this one, though he co-wrote it with Pete Ohs. Themes about the ephemeral nature of life, as well as a fondness for VHS tapes, a fantastical story, and a melancholic bittersweetness mark OBEX as coming from one of the minds behind Strawberry Mansion, but as with any auteur (or auteur in the making) what really delights me is where the films differ from each other. In contrast to the brightly-colored and thematically sweeping Strawberry Mansion, OBEX is shot in black and white and, despite a third act trip into a sword-and-sorcery fantasyland, feels very intimate.

Conor (Birney) lives a very solitary life in a small home in the year 1987. Aside from his beloved dog Sandy (played by Dorothy), and the occasional through-the-closed-door interactions with neighbor Mary (Callie Hernandez) who does his grocery shopping for him, Conor does not interact with anyone. He watches a three-high stack of era-appropriate TVs, and offers his services as an ASCII artist for $5 a pop via magazine ad: "I will draw you with my computer". It's while checking out his latest ad in Personal Computing magazine that he sees an ad for a computer game called OBEX. Via the U.S. mail, also conducted like a dead-drop, Conor exchanges $20 and a self-shot VHS audition tape for a personalized OBEX disk (or perhaps it's a diskette?).

Initially the game experience is a bit of a letdown: overly simplistic gameplay with confusing objectives and rules, though the main character sprite looks just like Conor and his trusty steed is named Sandy. But after becoming frustrated and throwing the diskette (I'm going with diskette, it's a nice, vintage word) in the trash, things start to become a bit hazy. Odd, potentially supernatural events begin unfolding in small ways at first, and largely without Conor seeming too concerned, but as time wears on, it seems like the demon IXAROTH, the game's antagonist, may be affecting the real world.

If this sounds a bit like Brainscan (1994, dir. John Flynn) that's because it is, though OBEX pays homage to the ur-text for movies where a demonic entity manipulates reality: A Nightmare on Elm Street (1984, dir. Wes Craven). In NoES, Freddy Krueger is a visceral, vengeful creature acting out a punishment on the children of the townspeople who murdered him, while in Brainscan, The Trickster is a demon who obfuscates reality in pursuit of a more immersive gaming experience. IXAROTH falls somewhere in between these two in really interesting thematic ways.

[Spoilers to follow for both A Nightmare on Elm Street and Brainscan] 

Despite numerous characters' disbelief that "this can't be happening" throughout the Nightmare franchise, it is happening. Freddy is a real threat, so much so that the franchise's seventh installment, Wes Craven's New Nightmare (1994, dir. Wes Craven), moves up one level of the reality, bringing Freddy into "the real world" where previously, he had only been a character in films. Conversely, all of Brainscan's threats and dangers are ultimately revealed to be The Trickster living up to his name--though to be fair, there is a reality-breaking mid-credit stinger that's just... wonderfully, delightfully confusing.

As events unfold in OBEX, we are given snapshots into Conor's backstory and subconscious through a series of dreams where he is driving with his sick mother in the backseat, taunting and almost haunting him. It becomes clear that Conor's unstated agoraphobia--an anxiety disorder signified by feeling unsafe in certain, usually unfamiliar locations--may be a response to his grief. When IXAROTH invades his home, through Conor's stack of TVs, and kidnaps Sandy, he takes away Conor's only safe space and threatens his only real remaining connection to his life. It's on his ensuing quest to rescue Sandy that Conor will be forced to confront his past traumas, go well outside of his comfort zone, and even address some uncomfortable truths about his childhood that he seemingly wished to avoid thinking about.

The last aspect of OBEX that I wanted to address is the use of, in my eyes, heavily thematically-relevant cicada imagery. Conor's home is surrounded by them, with a lone bug even invading his space from time to time, and once he sets off on his grand quest, he encounters them as obstacles and enemies in service of Conor's demonic nemesis. We're familiar with butterflies as a metaphor for personal growth and rebirth and it's obvious why they are the more commonly-found imagery, but I think the frequent insert shots of cicadas molting included in OBEX are meant to represent the same thing. To Conor, they're undesirable because they represent the kind of difficult forward motion in his life that he is avoiding making. On top of that, their constant chittering acts as a metaphor for the constant noise of distraction modern life and technology allows us.

As a film, OBEX is at times unsettling, at times thrilling, but always fascinating and made with a deliberateness that's extremely confident and self-assured. You can enjoy it on multiple levels; the technical aspects of the filmmaking, the engrossing horror/adventure story, or the emotional core, and get quite a lot out of it, but if you leave with one takeaway, let it be this: Albert Birney is a filmmaker to watch.

Fantasia International Film Festival 2025 - Week 2

Doc’s Fantasia Fest Journal
Week 2: Features
The Fantasia International Film Festival runs until August 3rd

Get tickets HERE 

By “Doc” Hunter Bush, Staff Writer and Podcast Director

The Fantasia International Film Festival is always an amazing opportunity to sample films from around the world that might otherwise not be exhibited so prominently. Though there are exceptions--for instance Ari Aster’s latest film had its Canadian premier here on July 16th, and genre legend Takashi Miike is involved in three films at this year’s fest--most of the films here don’t have a built-in audience and generally lack the marquee names of Hollywood productions, but what they lack in mainstream recognizability, they more than make up for with creativity and unique filmmaking choices.

Below, I’ve chosen four films to highlight that I hope you’ll keep an eye out for in the future.

Transcending Dimensions
Written and directed by Toshiaki Toyoda

A mysterious disappearance, a finger-chopping cult, a hired killer, and a conch shell that opens the path to higher planes of existence all collide under the stylish direction of Toshiaki Toyoda as the film Transcending Dimensions. In a story where nothing and no one is exactly what it seems, or at least not for the reasons you might think, you’re forced to be patient and allow it to reveal its secrets around you. Transcending Dimensions feels like a Kiyoshi Kurosawa mystery with a dash of David Lynch, aided by a legitimately fantastic soundtrack (no lie; this flick turned me on to the amazing band Sons of Kemet) and some truly dazzling visuals. I can’t say I fully understood all of it, but I loved going along for the ride.

Blank Canvas: My So-Called Artist’s Journey (Kakukaku Shikajika)
Written by Date-san, Akiko Higashimura
Directed by Kazuaki Seki

Akiko Higashimura’s autobiographical manga series comes to the big screen as an emotionally engaging bit of melodrama that’s as much about the struggles of the creative process and issues of self-worth as it is about the Gruff Mentor cliché. Mei Nagano anchors the piece with a light but magnetic performance as Akiko and plays incredibly well off of the, at times, comedically hard-nosed painting instructor Hidaka, played by Yô Ôizumi who you’re as likely to know from his voice work as his live-action appearances. Somehow, despite never really throwing any huge curves my way, I was fully engrossed in this simple, sweet, personal story. Blank Canvas: My So-Called Artist’s Journey is one of the more purely heartwarming things I’ve seen at Fantasia this year.

Stuntman
Written by Anastasia Tsang, Oliver Yip
Directed by Albert Leung, Herbert Leung

I quite liked this debut feature from the Leung Bros., while I acknowledge that it’s a little messy. In that way, the experience of watching Stuntman is a lot like watching the stunts of the era that it holds in such high esteem: maybe not quite perfect, or painless, but impactful and decidedly real-feeling. Stuntman follows a once-renowned director and stunt coordinator, “Heartless” Sam Lee (Wei Tung) as he takes one last job which calls into stark relief his lifetime of issues both on-set and in his personal life. It is at times unpleasant to watch, not for any graphic or triggering reasons but because you want to like Sam and watching him torpedo his good will in ways that feel almost deliberate is just heartbreaking, but ultimately a fitting love letter to the gonzo stunts of the 1980s and the performers who embodied the “Hong Kong spirit”. Imagine Sammo Hung making The Wrestler (2008, dir. Darren Aronofsky) about stunts and you’ll have a decent idea of the sense of humor and character pathos this flick delivers alongside the stuntwork.

Rewrite
Written by Makoto Ueda, based on the novel by Haruka Hôjô
Directed by Daigo Matsui

One of the films I caught during the 2023 Fantasia Fest was River, which introduced me to writer Makoto Ueda’s interest in the “tiny loop” concept--he collaborated with director Junta Yamaguchi on two films exploring the idea of small scale time loop adventures, the aforementioned River, and Beyond the Infinite Two Minutes (2020)--leading to Rewrite being very high on my Want To Watch list. Ueda, working this time with a new director and adapting someone else’s story, is still in the playground he seems to enjoy so much. One day in the school library, high schooler Miyuki (Elaiza Ikeda) discovers that new transfer student Yasuhiko (Kei Adachi) is actually from 300 years in the future! Over the next 20 days, as she shows him the sights of her era and finds out that he was drawn there after reading a young adult romance novel set at the time, they begin to fall awkwardly, tenderly in love and Miyuki vows to write the novel that he will one day find in the future: The Perfect Loop. But ten years later, on the day she expects a timey-wimey visit from her younger self, young Miyuki never shows. Now, with her high school reunion looming ever closer, Miyuki must figure out exactly what really happened in that halcyon summer all those years ago. Ueda’s familiarity with the tropes of time travel allows Rewrite to play in that space while focusing on telling an effective emotional story, one about personal growth, about being happy with what you have, and learning to accept the past.