HALLYUWOOD: THE ULTIMATE GUIDE TO KOREAN CINEMA by Bastian Meiresonne (Black Dog & Leventhal)

Hallyuwood: The Ultimate Guide to Korean Cinema
Written by Bastian Meiresonne
Published by Black Dog & Leventhal
Available for purchase HERE

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

Korean cinema has arguably never been hotter than it has in the last few years. Since its boom into wider awareness in the 2000s, up to Bong Joon-ho's Oscar wins for Parasite in 2020, it has never been easier to encounter Korean films, so I was really excited to dive into this hefty tome. Ultimately, I really enjoyed the reading experience, but it was not what I was expecting.When Hallyuwood describes itself as "The Ultimate Guide to Korean Cinema", the word cinema is referring more to the industry or the art form than it is to the films themselves.

I grew up in an age where film guides were still reasonably prevalent. You could find compilations of reviews from specific critics, or divided up by era or sub-genre. This is what I was expecting from Hallyuwood; a comprehensive guide to Korea's cinematic offerings that would perhaps give me better or more insight into the cultural differences from what I'm familiar with, and as always, I was hoping to maybe be exposed to a filmmaker I'd never heard of before. Who among us isn't looking to find a new fave at every turn?

That is not exactly what Hallyuwood is. It still manages to do those things, but along with the occasional film summary, what this book is most concerned with is providing an insightful and thorough history of the Korean film industry. A history that is genuinely fascinating. Above, I mentioned the Korean film boom of the 2000s; it's not as if they weren't making movies before then. In the book's introduction chapter, author Bastian Meiresonne casually drops that Korea has produced over 8000 films since 1919, and one of the main reasons they weren't more widely available was an ongoing struggle against censorship under Japanese occupation.

Hallyuwood is presented in chronological order, first divided up by eras: “1903-1919 The Origins of Korean Cinema”, “1961-1971 The Golden Age of Korean Cinema”, “1992-1998 The Dawn of Renewal”, and so on. Each era is likewise chronological with the occasional diversion for brief overviews of a filmmaker, examinations of socio-political changes, or other relevant asides. For instance, the Byeonsa-- Korean narrators introduced to accompany foreign silent films, for which the largely rural audiences had no cultural context, and could not read the inter-title cards-- who were so ubiquitous that certain Byeonsa became stars in their own right.

This approach, this structure, necessitated a lot of doubling back to check on the names of stars, filmmakers, studio heads, government officials, and the like as their individual stories evolved over each cinematic epoch, giving Hallyuwood a more academic feel than the guide book I was expecting. But the experience overall is incredibly rewarding. Learning of all the times censorship guidelines changed, usually to protect a government from criticism, and the ways in which filmmakers circumvented or outright battled them, I felt inspired.

I recently reviewed the documentary Scala!!! about the Scala Cinema in London (1978-1993). Learning of that theater’s importance with regards to the underground film scene, concurrent with my reading this book and learning about groups like Jangsangot-mae-- a film collective who led an eight year legal battle that ended in the dissolution of the censorship board, directly leading to another boom era in Korean film-- felt like a call to action. As the kids say "Let this radicalize you"; film at its best is an art form built on expression and we should always stand and fight for it as such. What better way to champion an art form than to learn as much about it as you can?

During the period I was reading Hallyuwood, I watched Park Chan-wook's The Handmaiden (2016) which opens with text explaining that the subtitles for Japanese dialogue would be one color, and those for Korean dialogue, another. Normally, I'd have presumed this was perhaps for clarity, or at the very least had a less keen understanding of the societal implications that this adds to the haves / have nots dynamic already present in the film. But due to being immersed in the country's film history, that divide was called into an even greater contrast.

If you're interested in learning more about Korean cinema beyond a simple listicle of modern stand-outs, Hallyuwood is for you. This deep examination of cultural roots and artistic struggles put so many films and filmmakers on my To Watch list (the book even has a list of Selected Film Titles in the back, to get you started!) and as described above, has already enriched my viewing experience! The world is an enormous place that only gets more complex the longer you look, and being well-informed is the best way to understand what it is you're seeing.

"Without memory, there can be no retribution" : POPCORN (1991) and How the Past Informs the Horror Genre

"Without Memory, There Can Be No Retribution" :
Popcorn (1991) and How the Past Informs the Horror Genre 

by "Doc" Hunter Bush, contributor and podcast czar

Popcorn (1991) is a love letter to the horror genre on both textual and metatextual levels. The plot involves an all night horror-thon, the setting is a classic movie house scheduled for demolition, and the killer utilizes movie magic to do his nasty work. But there’s a deeper appreciation for horror’s history on display as well.

Aspiring filmmaker Maggie (Jill Schoelen) and her pals put on the horror-thon to raise money for their high school film department. With the help of film historian Dr. Mnesyne (Ray Walston), they're screening three (fake) classic cult b-movies that all have their own gimmicks. The giant mutant bug attack film Mosquito is being presented in project-o-vision (which means a huge remote controlled mosquito on wires will fly out above the audience at key moments), something called The Stench presented in aroma-rama (where packets of powder are dissolved in water and the resulting scented fog is filtered into the theater), and The Amazing Electrified Man about a death row inmate who survives the electric chair, presented in shock-o-scope (where the theater seats are electrified in order to give shocks to the audience).

This being the Slashers issue of MovieJawn, there are obviously some murders afoot! A short film called Possessor is found mixed in with the film spools and gimmick materials, and screened shortly thereafter. The short is surreal, and bears resemblance to some spooky dreams Maggie has been having, and once the horror-thon kicks off, she begins to think that the man from Possessor is haunting the theater, killing her friends off one by one! The man operating the RC mosquito gets impaled on its huge proboscis; the guy operating the shock-o-scope board is tied to his seat and terminally zapped; one of the kids is locked in a bathroom stall and gassed with toxic aroma-rama pellets (why he doesn't just flush I'll never know) and the audience is in danger of meeting the same fate.

Popcorn taps into a reverence for the past that runs through a lot of the horror genre, while also paying homage to William Castle, one of the greatest carnies to ever work in film. Without going into too much detail, some of the gimmicks in this directly correlate to some of Castle's ideas to drum up audience interest. Look up Castle's films The House on Haunted Hill, The Tingler, 13 Ghosts, Macabre, Mr. Sardonicus, Homicidal, and probably others - and their associated promotional tricks, if you're unfamiliar. They're very fun. You'll thank me.

Beyond that, horror has a rich history of paying homage to what's come before. Things like meta-casting genre mainstays, naming characters after actors or directors from earlier eras, to giving small shout-outs within the films. For instance, there's a torn poster for Wes Craven's The Hills Have Eyes (1977) in the basement of the cabin in Sam Raimi's The Evil Dead (1981). Craven responded by having the character Glen (Johnny Depp) watching The Evil Dead on TV before being killed in an appropriately Evil Dead-y, messy fashion by Freddy Kruger in A Nightmare on Elm Street (1984). Raimi then had a replica of Freddy's glove hanging above the doorway of the cabin in Evil Dead II (1987).

Sometimes these nods are shout outs, broadcasting a love and respect for an inspirational work. Sometimes they're call outs, telling audiences "If you thought that was scary, wait until you see this". Sometimes they hint at some shared horror DNA that audiences might not be instinctually aware of. In John Carpenter's Halloween (1978) for instance, the kids are watching The Thing From Another World (1951) on TV at one point, underlying the it-could-be-anyone paranoia of his film's masked killer.

By adopting parodies of William Castle -style gimmicks onto pastiches of '50s and '60s cheapie b-movies, the filmmakers are more than just tipping their hat to film history. Mosquito, The Amazing Electrified Man, and The Stench aren't purely wallpaper for the events of the film. The promotional gags and equipment are what is used to rack up the majority of the film's bodycount. Popcorn is saying in no uncertain terms, that these ideas, these genres, these concepts, though having fallen out of fashion, are still valid. Still vibrant. Still killers.

I've been a big fan of Popcorn since I first saw it (only a few years ago!) because, on top of being a fun and lively flick, I enthusiastically agree. Too many filmmakers seem to drop references in their work more as a sign of their own bona fides, designed to say more about how cool or knowledgable the filmmaker is than to say anything about the works they're nested into. But horror history is jam packed with great ideas worth interrogating, and concepts worth dragging into the light in front of new eyes. As Toby (Tom Villard) says in Popcorn: “Without memory, there can be no retribution”, which I interpret as horror’s version of “Those who don’t learn from the past are doomed to repeat it”. Someone has to show the audiences everything they’ve been missing.

"To God, there is no zero": THE INCREDIBLE SHRINKING MAN (1957) and social anxieties

To God, There is No Zero:
The Incredible Shrinking Man (1957) and the persistence of societal anxiety

by "Doc" Hunter Bush, contributor and Podcast Czar

1957's The Incredible Shrinking Man opens with Scott Carey (Grant Williams), an ostensibly normal American man, vacationing on a boat with his wife Louise (Randy Staurt). While Louise is below decks fetching beers, a strange radioactive mist passes, covering Scott in glitter. Six months later, Scott begins to notice that he is shrinking. Doctors initially disbelieve him - perhaps every time you've ever had your height taken before now was wrong? - before eventually subjecting him to a myriad of tests, ultimately deciding that the cloud was radioactive and, in conjunction with some otherwise harmless pesticides Scott had previously been exposed to, was to blame for his current condition.

Before long, Scott has become a public figure, being harassed to the degree that Louise reaches out to secure them an unlisted number. Trapped in his home, continually shrinking, Scott takes to living in a dollhouse until his cat Butch mistakes him for prey, driving Scott out of his to-scale home, eventually leaving him stranded in the basement. The final act of The Incredible Shrinking Man becomes akin to a John Carter of Mars story, with Scott in a harsh, barren landscape, scrounging for food, shelter, and a means to defend himself from the monstrous local fauna before the film ends on a shockingly philosophical note.

The screenplay was based on the Richard Matheson novel The Shrinking Man, Matheson having sold the rights to Universal on the condition that he be allowed to adapt it. The novel and screenplay both share Matheson's central concerns, involving post-WWII nuclear anxieties, and the redefining of masculinity in postwar suburban America. Matheson himself was struggling with what were seen as traditionally masculine concerns, notably providing for his family as a freelance writer.

These anxieties are as thoroughly ingrained into the film as the radiation & pesticide are into Scott. The mist is a tangible metaphor for fears about radioactivity, the fact that it comes along and interrupts not an ordinary day, but a blissful vacation day only calls these fears into sharper contrast. Once home and aware of his condition, Scott begins feeling increasingly emasculated. The fact that a doctor dismisses his medical concerns offhand at first - an all too common event for women, the elderly, bipoc, and plus-sized individuals - only adds a more current framework to Scott's emotional journey.

Scott eventually begins taking his frustrations out on Louise, a shockingly matter-of-fact dissection of toxic masculinity and another surprisingly modern lens through which to view aspects of the film: "Every day it was worse. Every day a little smaller, and every day I became more tyrannical, more monstrous in my domination of Louise." By the time Scott is small enough to inhabit a Barbie Dream House, he's snapping at Louise (in an amusingly tiny voice) about how loudly she speaks and how her footfalls shake his home. In other words: things she has very little control over.

The bittersweet turn of The Incredible Shrinking Man is that, after all that, Scott has passed beyond the desire for food. Smaller than he's ever been, he exits the basement by climbing out through a ventilation grate cover that he'd been too large to get through just a few hours earlier. He takes in the alien expanse of his back yard under moonlight and ruminates about the universe: "So close, the infinitesimal and the infinite. The unbelievably small and the inconceivably vast eventually meet like two ends of the same circle."

He has finally accepted that his size doesn't matter, he still exists and that very existence justifies itself. He matters just as much as anything else. It's a surprising tone to end the film on. Not because of the existentially terrifying concept of shrinking out of known existence, but because our hero, after enduring one indignity after another, after losing everything that was familiar to him, after all that he seems to find peace; acceptance.

There's something to be said for Matheson that he chose to end his screenplay addressing perhaps the greatest, most persistent hum of anxiety - death - with tranquility. It's a beautiful place, emotionally, to end an otherwise very tense tale. That final, untroubled note really drew the previous events into focus for me, calling Scott's fears and the film's underlying worries into greater relief (no pun intended), while also offering a little advice: You can't let your fears change you. Scott's penultimate line is the title of this piece, as I think it is the keystone to understanding this advice: "To God, there is no zero", followed by "I still exist!". Theism aside, God in this case represents the only opinion that matters. Why not let it be yours?

STIR OF ECHOES steelbook (Lionsgate)

Stir of Echoes
Directed and written by David Koepp, based on the novel by Richard Matheson
Starring Kevin Bacon, Kathryn Erbe, Illeana Douglas, Kevin Dunn
Running time 1 hour and 39 minutes
Rated R by the MPA for violence, sexuality and language
On 4K, Blu-ray, and digital Dec. 10th from Lionsgate

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

Synopsis:

Tom Witzky (Kevin Bacon) is a blue-collar worker, a family man, the most ordinary guy in the world...who is about to be plunged into a shattering encounter with another world. And it doesn't matter that Tom doesn't believe in the supernatural. Because something supernatural has started to believe in Tom. After he is hypnotized at a neighborhood party, Tom changes. He sees things he can't explain and hears voices he can't ignore. As the horrific visions intensify, Tom realizes they are pieces of a puzzle, echoes of a crime calling out to be solved. But when his other-worldly nightmares begin coming true, Tom wants out. He desperately tries to rid himself of his eerie, unwanted powers - only to be seized by an irresistible compulsion to dig deeper and deeper into the mystery that is consuming his life. When at last he unearths the truth, it will draw him into the long-buried secret of a ghastly crime, a vengeful spirit...and the lethal price of laying that spirit to rest.

What Features Make it Special:

• Audio Commentary with Director David Koepp
• Visions of the Past: Re-visiting Stir of Echoes (2024 NEW featurette)
• Establishing Shot with Fred Murphy (2024 NEW featurette)
• Flipping the Switch: Directing Stir of Echoes
• Maggie's Memories: Inside Stir of Echoes
• Opening the Door: Designing Stir of Echoes
• Making of Stir of Echoes
• Sight of Spirits: Channeling the Paranormal
• Behind the Echoes
• The Mind's Eye: Beneath the Trance
• Special Effects
• Production Design
• Interviews with Cast and Crew
• Behind the Scenes
• Scene Comparisons
• Screen Tests
• Deleted Scenes
• Promotional Materials
• Breathe Original Music Video
• Theatrical Trailer

Why You Need to Add it to Your Media Library:

Beyond its solid pedigree-- based on a novel by genre legend Richard Matheson, with a stacked cast of talented character actors-- Stir of Echoes is an intimate portrait of growing madness, the dark heart of even the most serene neighborhood. From an effects standpoint, it relies mostly on the practical, with camera tricks and clever edits building an ever-present tension. It's not flashy, it's just a well-built thriller with some real chills and the exact right amount of supernaturality.

Confoundingly, even up into the last few years, it was rarely streamable until around the spooky season, making physical media a must. It's for that reason that I've held on to my original DVD-- with its silly plastic slipcover with black ...ectoplasm (?) on it--- for so long; I love introducing folks to this flick! Despite being reasonably well-received when it premiered, Stir of Echoes remains somewhat of an under-seen prize. The problem with Stir of Echoes is that it's a slow-build supernatural thriller that came out in 1999, but it isn't The Sixth Sense, so nobody really noticed.

And this version is ostensibly the best-looking one yet! In the Establishing Shot special feature, cinematographer Fred Murphy and 4K colorist Kostas Theodosiou detail the processes by which the 4K was constructed and fine-tuned, and it's very interesting if you're into the nitty-gritty of how these sorts of projects are accomplished. While both Murphy and Theodosiou are adamant about maintaining the spirit of the film, they're now able to fine-tune aspects that they weren't able to in the past; brightening one area of a scene, better balancing the lighting in between a shot and its reverse; things like that. The small tweaks the filmmakers wish they had the time and money for from the start. So make space on your shelf for this one, and watch it any time you like. Ghosts don't care what time of year it is so why should you?

Stir of Echoes is available on 4K, Blu-ray, and digital Dec. 10th from Lionsgate

KRAVEN THE HUNTER (2024)

Kraven the Hunter
Directed by J.C. Chandor
Written by Richard Wenk and Art Marcum & Matt Holloway
Starring Aaron Taylor-Johnson, Russell Crowe, Alessandro Nivola, Ariana DeBose, Fred Hechinger
Running time 2 hours and 7 minutes
Rated R by the MPA for strong bloody violence, and language
In theaters December 13

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

Everyone hoping for a threepeat embarrassing failure like Morbius and Madame Web can put their knives away. Kraven has plenty of knives already.

Drawing on Richard Connell's 1924 short story The Most Dangerous Game-- the ur text for all human-hunting in popular culture-- the comicbook character Kraven was introduced in the early '60s as a villain for Spider-Man. The nepo baby son of a Russian crimelord, the man known as Kraven was a big game hunter who came to New York to hunt Spidey; decidedly a greater challenge than your average man. Over the years, Kraven has died, been resurrected, passed down the mantle to his assorted kids, and occasionally united with heroes against greater threats.

The Sony/Columbia/Marvel version of the character is, much like Venom (and to a lesser extent, Morbius), playing up the character's few moments of vigilante antiheroism. Aaron Taylor-Johnson's Kraven is a man who rejects his father's evil empire, and the assumption that he would one day grow to take it over. He lives alone on some family land in Siberia, keeping his animal friends safe from poachers and occasionally hunting down evil men like his father-- but importantly, NOT his father.

In the sixteen years since he left home, he's gotten in incredible shape, and become a bit of a crime world urban legend: The Hunter. Hmm... a well-traveled rich kid with mommy/daddy damage uses his privilege and fortune to strike fear into the heart of criminals as a mononymed boogeyman... That's correct, studious reader, Sony are trying to have their cake (Spider-Man related audience recognition and draw) and eat it too (but he's Batman).

In their desire to make a more grounded Nolan-like superhero film, they have actually concocted a decent narrative with battling crime families and a good deal of satisfying violence. Dead meat goons are exsanguinated by blades, fall victim to traps and poisons, and one notably gets split in half! There is CGI bloodmist aplenty! Kraven, like a certain bat-themed gentleman, doesn't use guns. He drops a throw-away explanatory line about a true hunter "only using what you were born with", but then constantly uses knives, arrows, and other weapons he was not born with to kill his 'prey'. That self-owning tendency for screenwriters Richard Wenk, Art Marcum, and Matt Holloway to try to justify or explain everything is indicative of the big problem with Kraven as a film: it's trying SO HARD that it distracts from the fun you're having.

That's been an issue with all of Sony's non-Venom projects: the movies are so concerned with making the audience take silly stuff seriously, and promising future installments that they fail to properly embrace the silliness and make a truly engaging movie NOW, paradoxically ensuring that these promised future films never get made. Where Kraven stands apart is the movie happening now-- squished in between abundant backstory and a good deal of the aforementioned Sony Franchise Assurance Sickness©-- is actually good. It is at least not bad and it's nowhere near the disasters that Morbius (2022) and Madame Web (2024) were.

Aaron Taylor-Johnson is fun here, and carries the self-seriousness of this character pretty well. This shouldn't be a shock as ATJ has been regularly bringing it for years now, but I was pleasantly surprised by some supporting performances. Russell Crowe is, of course, doing his Russell Crowe thing-- which lately has consisted of being the only man Hollywood thinks can do an accent-- but it works just fine. Fred Hechinger as Kraven's cowering half-brother Dmitri gave me all the enjoyment of twitchy, early Joaquin Phoenix (a good thing); Alessandro Nivola makes a meal and a half out of his nascent crime lord with a Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde condition; and Ariana DeBose does a fantastic job making her somewhat under-written occultist/lawyer play as really likable.

Yes, "occultist/lawyer". I told you there was silliness-- it's comicbooks, the silliness is implied!-- but even at Kraven's lowest points, it's just a bit corny. At the high points, it's really fun. ATJ doing parkour down the side of a luxury hotel, or throwing spears through a helicopter, or reading license plates from blocks away using his predator-vision-- like, in the bird of prey sense, not the Predator film series sense, even though that one does have its own famous POV-- it's the kind of cinematic junk food that appeals to me as a fan of genre silliness like Crank 2 (2009) or Face/Off (1997).

Ultimately, Kraven the Hunter is perfectly fine. Good, even. It could be better, but as we are well aware, it could have been SO MUCH worse. In a way, that's the greatest disappointment of the film as an object. Sony have apparently called it quits on their Spider-Man spin-off universe, so their delivering a half-decent offering feels like when your ex gives you a gift they bought before your split. Bittersweet. I'd sure enjoy this a lot more if I didn't know things were over.

Kraven the Hunter is in Theaters Friday, Dec. 13th, 2024

As a silly little bonus thing, here's a drawing I did of Kraven back in 2014:

SCALA!!! (Severin)

Scala!!! or, The Incredibly Strange Rise and Fall of the World's Wildest Cinema and How It Influenced a Mixed-up Generation of Weirdos and Misfits
Directed by Ali Catterall, Jane Giles
Written by Ali Catterall, Jane Giles
Featuring John Waters, Mary Harron, Beeban Kidron, Ralph Brown, Peter Strickland, others
Running time 1 hour and 36 minutes
Currently unrated, but contains profanity, discussions of sex, violence, self-harm, drug & alcohol use, and numerous film clips featuring same

On Blu-ray, available Dec. 3rd from Severin Films
Purchase HERE

by “Doc” Hunter Bush, contributor, host and Podcast Czar

Synopsis:

From 1978 to 1993, the Scala Cinema was a haven for outcasts, weirdos, and members of all countercultures great and small. Scala!!! or, The Incredibly Strange Rise and Fall of the World's Wildest Cinema and How It Influenced a Mixed-up Generation of Weirdos and Misfits - the documentary in question, henceforth to be known only as Scala!!! - gives an insight into the historical, cultural, and cinematic impact that one simple picture palace can have.

From its inception, through a change of venue, at a tense and bitter time in London, and up until the (frankly ridiculous) events that lead to its final days, the Scala Cinema had an impact on the lives of uncountable folks who passed through its doors. Filmmakers Ali Catterall and Jane Giles (who is a former employee of the theater) allow dozens of these souls to share their recollections of the Scala - good, bad, and ugly.

With copious clips from the Scala back catalogue of films, and music of the era paired with interviews from employees, frequenters, and notable patrons - including John Waters (Pink Flamingos), Mary Harron (American Psycho), Beeban Kidron (To Wong Foo, Thanks For Everything! Julie Newmar), Ralph Brown (Withnail and I), and Peter Strickland (In Fabric), among others - Scala!!! paints an engrossing picture of the famed London cinema across its rich history.

What Features Make it Special:

• Disc One
• Audio Commentary With Co-Directors Jane Giles And Ali Catterall
• Introduction From The UK Premiere At The 2023 BFI London Film Festival
• Introduction To SCALA By Director Michael Clifford
• SCALA (Michael Clifford, 1990)
• SCALA CINEMA (Ali Peck/Victor de Jesus, 1992)
• Director Commentary For SCALA CINEMA
• Scala Programs 1978–1993
• Cabinet Of Curiosities – Inside The Scala Archive
• Extended Interviews
• Mary Harron Outtakes
• Nick Kent Outtakes
• Thurston Moore Outtakes
• John Waters Outtakes
• Cartoons By Davey Jones
• Osbert Parker's SCALA!!! Animation Experiments And Outtakes
• Primatarium Animation
• Scala Programs Animation
• Tentacles Animation
• Trailer
• Disc Two
• Short Films
• DIVIDE AND RULE – NEVER! (Newsreel Collective, 1978)
• DEAD CAT (David Lewis, 1989)
• David Lewis Remembers DEAD CAT
• THE MARK OF LILITH (Bruna Fionda/Polly Gladwin/Zachary Nataf, 1986)
• RELAX (Chris Newby, 1991)
• BOOBS A LOT (Aggy Read, 1968)
• KAMA SUTRA RIDES AGAIN (Bob Godfrey, 1971)
• COPING WITH CUPID (Viv Albertine, 1991)
• ON GUARD (Susan Lambert, 1984)
• Disc Three
• Documentaries
• THE ART OF THE CALENDAR (Kier-La Janisse, 2024)
• SPLATTERFEST EXHUMED (Jasper Sharp, 2024)
• Short Films
• MANIAC 2: MR. ROBBIE (Buddy Giovinazzo, 1986)
• Audio Commentary For MANIAC 2: MR. ROBBIE With Buddy Giovinazzo
• HORRORSHOW (Paul Hart-Wilden, 1990)
• Audio Commentary For HORRORSHOW With Director Paul Hart-Wilden
• CLEVELAND SMITH: BOUNTY HUNTER (Josh Becker, 1982) – Original Cut
• CLEVELAND SMITH: BOUNTY HUNTER (Josh Becker, 1982) – Producer's Cut
• Audio Commentary For The Producer's Cut Of CLEVELAND SMITH: BOUNTY HUNTER With Producer Scott Spiegel
• MONGOLITOS (Stéphane Ambiel, 1988)
• Audio Commentary For MONGOLITOS With Director Stéphane Ambiel
• The Legendary H.G. Lewis Speaks – 1989 Scala Appearance By The Godfather Of Gore

[disc pics]

Why You Need to Add it to Your Library:

It might seem like a bit of a big ask, trying to explain why you should buy a 3-disc set exploring the history of a theater you may have no prior knowledge of, and I get that. But as the main documentary rolled along, I came to realize that I was familiar, in passing, with the Scala. I've read millions of words over the years on the history of punk, and the history of underground cinema, and the Scala is firmly intertwined in those legacies. Lou Reed and Iggy and The Stooges first shows in the U.K., the U.K. premier of Return of the Living Dead, among so much else - all happened in that building! 

Beyond that, the Scala was a place of great emotional and personal importance to the people who worked there or frequented it. I have been lucky enough to have had a few of those locations in my life, so seeing people attempt to explain why it felt like such a magical time and place rang as very familiar to me. A lot of us are outsiders, and found family is such an important, special and powerful thing to an outsider. My impression is that the Scala family were those people for each other, and that's just beautiful.

Scala!!! is a document of an important location, but more than that - a moment, in cinema for a whole bevy of budding filmmakers, artists and other creatives. It's important to document that these places existed so that we know it's possible - they can exist again, we just might have to make them. Without overtly meaning to, Scala!!! puts the impetus on us to be the change we want to see in the world. It doesn't always have to mean boots-in-the-street activism, it can mean carving out a space where folks can have their minds expanded, and a space where they can feel safe being themselves.

The disc set also comes with a replica Scala Cinema screening calendar and membership card. Plus the 13 hours (!!!) of bonus features include enough short films to set up your own mini-Scala Cinema screenings in your living room, which is a good start.

Scala!!! is available on Blu-ray Dec. 3rd from Severin Films
Purchase HERE

HIRUKO THE GOBLIN (1991)

Hiruko the Goblin
Dig up this hidden gem about digging up a monster!

by "Doc" Hunter Bush - contributor, host, and podcast czar

Hiruko the Goblin is a SpookyJawn-friendly ghost story combining monster-hunting elements, a dash of teenage melodrama, a hint of ominous prophecy, and some really fantastic and varied practical effects. Based on a manga by Daijirô Morohoshi, and directed by Shin'ya Tsukamoto (director of Tetsuo: The Iron Man (1989)), the movie was originally released in 1991. It was remastered in 2021 for its 30th anniversary for a brief return to theaters and a blu-ray release from Mondo Macabro, which was where I was lucky enough to finally lay eyes on it.

I had heard of it in some circles, almost always being positively compared to (one of my favorite films) The Evil Dead (1981), alongside a film with the incredibly memorable title Bloody Muscle Body Builder in Hell (1995). These films - their titles at least - were some of my first in-roads to Japanese horror. Over the years they, as well as Nobuhiko Ôbayashi's House (a.k.a. Hausu) (1977) were the titles that I kept hearing about but never seemed to catch on in popular culture. Oldboy, Ichi the Killer, and etc. would become popular, or something like The Ring (a.k.a. Ringu) or Ju-On: The Grudge would get U.S. remakes, and eventually the originals could be found on the shelf of the video store, but it took for-ev-er to finally track down Hiruko, House (thanks, Criterion!), and Bloody Muscle Body Builder in Hell (thanks, Visual Vengeance!). Just a casual reminder to support physical media!

If, like me, you watched The Last Drive-In Nightmareathon on Shudder at the end of August, you might have also seen BMBBiH. While I think that film totally earns its sobriquet as "the Japanese Evil Dead", it does so by lovingly copying the original. Hiruko the Goblin on the other hand, more accurately captures the feeling, energy, and humor of Evil Dead while being playing in a totally different space for the most part.

I mean, it's a haunted location movie. I should get that out of the way. The title Hiruko the Goblin can be a little misleading. There are monsters, but for the first big chunk of the film they act largely more like ghosts than something like the Gremlins or Critters from their respective franchises. Hiruko is a yōkai, a catch-all term for Japanese spirit that, in practical usage, is highly contextual. There are legions of yōkai, some being mean-spirited, some benevolent, and some almost neutral. The translation to "goblin" seems to designate Hiruko as either small or more animalistic (one character consciously corrects himself from calling it a "demon") but still troublesome and dangerous. I bring this up so that we're all on the same page: Hiruko is not what you might think of as a "traditional" goblin.

But, oh man, this is a fun movie.

After a cold open involving an archaeologist and one of his students being beset by some unseen force, we're introduced to Masao (Masaki Kudou) and his friends, sneaking onto school grounds in the off-season to retrieve a hidden stash of beers and looking to spend the day by the lake. They're driven off by the scythe-wielding groundskeeper / janitor Watanabe (Hideo Murota) and split up. Just as Masao is about to be pounced upon by the unseen evil (the camera seeing through its eyes, à la Evil Dead), he is rescued by his uncle Hieda Reijirou (Kenji Sawada), a paranormal investigator.

Turns out, the archaeologist from the cold open is one of the school's teachers, AND is Masao's father, AND is missing, which is what brought Hieda to town. He had been corresponding with Masao's father and they both believed the dig site was potentially supernatural. Now they're smack dab in the middle of things.

The first chunk of the movie is all dramatic irony. We the audience know the movie is called Hiruko the Goblin, but Masao, his friends, and uncle Hieda all seem to think the occasional decapitated bodies they've been coming across are the work of Watanabe and his scythe. Even when things begin to really push the envelope with regards to believability, the film never becomes frustrating or tiresome. Everything moves at such a brisk pace that it's almost impossible to be mad at anything. There's also Hieda.

Hieda is a bit scattered. He gives off an Egon Spengler type of energy what with his DIY spirit detector gear. Added to that, he and Masao spend a lot of time fleeing danger through the halls and across the grounds of the school precariously balanced on a single bicycle. It's really charming and he would be easy to see as purely a comic relief character, but he has a tragic backstory that also means Masao is hesitant to trust him completely. The character is written well, with information fed to us piecemeal enough to remain interesting, but actor Kenji Sawada makes it all land just perfectly.

Eventually, Masao and Hieda witness enough that they can no longer pretend this is a slasher flick. It is officially goblin time!

The supernatural elements are initially depicted as the severed heads of Masao's classmates, moving via unnatural means, occasionally with long gnarly tentacle tongues. That's all well and good, and plenty scary, until the creature Pokévolves six huge, gross crab-like legs and starts scuttling up walls and across ceilings (sometimes realized via puppetry, sometimes via stop motion; always perfectly janky)! It's so unsettling! The sound effects develop clicky-clacky noise as the legs move that's just skin-crawling!

Something about the variety of the effects really feels like the Evil Dead films to me. Just that by-any-means, kitchen sink approach to getting an idea in front of an audience. In addition to the creature effects I mentioned, the effects team use some chromakey, great prosthetics, and even (maybe) some animatronics for sequences where the crab legs have to be moving while an actor has to deliver dialogue (although, it's likely that was achieved via more puppetry). It's just so impressive to me as a staunch proponent for practical effects. It warms my haunted heart.

The back half of the film is full of twists and reveals that you couldn't even anticipate: there's Indiana Jones-style tomb raiding, magic, prophecy, the janitor gets actual character development, tons of cool set pieces and effects, and *checks notes* a ghost that looks like the aliens from The Abyss but made out of... let's say "spunk". Hiruko the Goblin never quite gets to the acid-trip gonzo levels of visuals that something like House achieves (but really, what does?) and it's not quite the Evil Dead palette swap that Bloody Muscle Body Builder in Hell is, but what it is has enough familiar qualities to appeal to a large swath of mainstream horror viewers while also having enough uniqueness to stand out.

I hope you seek this movie out (and honestly any of the ones I've mentioned here) and I hope you like them! Remember to support physical media and champion practical effects wherever you can. Have a safe and happy Spookyjawn, and Long Live the Movies!