SISTER WRATH (2008)

 

While this film's alternate title NUN OF THAT was accurate in describing its wacky comical nature, I like SISTER WRATH better. While there have been a smattering of straightforward adventure-stories featuring vengeful nuns, the idea of undercutting the "merciful" association of nuns to make them into vessels of God's wrath carries its own vibe of absurdity.

In fact, nearly no one in director/co-scripter's Richard Griffin's world of crazy Catholics could strain the quality of mercy if their lives depended on it. The Church maintains a cadre of killer hit-nuns-- no word as to why there don't seem to be any male assassins-- and cheerfully sends them out to knock off sinners, primarily hardcore gangsters. But at the start of the movie, the nuns lose one of their number, so they need a replacement.      

Sister Kelly (Sarah Nicklin) is getting called on the carpet by Mother Superior for having beaten up a pedophile priest-- who foolishly shows up to see Kelly drummed out and gets pounded on by Kelly some more. Kelly is transferred to a new diocese, but as soon as she gets there, three gun-toting nuns show up and ventilate Kelly's penguin outfit, with her in it.

Surprise: Kelly ends up in Heaven, where she's expected to become one of God's holy hitwomen. Getting shot dead is like an initiation ceremony, and it means that she can once more descend to Earth, in a mortal body, and start knocking off cannoli-munching Mafioso. Only one problem: if Kelly-- now dubbed Sister Wrath-- gets killed a second time, it's for good. Kelly also learns that ascending to Heaven also has special perks, for being a "bride of Christ" means becoming part of the Heavenly Savior's own private harem. (To be sure, we don't see "Jesus" having sex with any of the hot nuns; presumably Griffin wasn't willing to get quite that crazy.)    

So on Earth Kelly is joined by Sisters Gluttony, Lust and Pride, and they start violently gunning down Italian gangsters. Local capo Momma Rizzo sets a killer to catch a killer, and a Jew to take down the Brides of Christ: one "Viper Goldstein." Viper's presence allows Griffin to take a rest from Catholic jokes in favor of Jewish ones, but no one could be offended as this sort of over-the-top nonsense. Many jokes fall flat and a fair number work okay, but the funniest moment is when the Killer Nuns get assistance from whoever was Pope in 2008. Perhaps Griffin signaled his cinematic inspiration for this movie, with its balls-to-the-wall gunplay and frequent fistfights, by having the papal eminence played by Lloyd Kaufman of TROMA fame.

WRATH is episodic and simplistic, but unlike a lot of "so bad they're good" poser-flicks, this one at least has a good level of energy.

            

BUTT ATTACK PUNISHER GIRL GAUTAMAN (1994)

 

PHENOMENALITY: *marvelous* 
MYTHICITY: *fair*
FRYEAN MYTHOS: *comedy*
CAMPBELLIAN FUNCTION: *metaphysical*

There's not much info online about this one-shot obscurity, though one site translated about thirteen installments of a manga series, with the added info that the feature enjoyed about 60 chapters. I'm going to guess that the GAUTAMAN manga was not terribly successful, but that this lack of success made the franchise cheap enough for some studio to snap up the rights. Maybe the studio hoped to garner some attention with yet another fanservice-heavy "magical-girl" concept (though nowhere near as heavy as KEKKO KAMEN). As far as I know, there was just this 45-minute OAV.

From the thirteen chapters I read, the concept is relatively novel. Mari Amachi is a Japanese Christian of high school age. She's enrolled in an extraordinarily "multi-culti" school, the Perfect Religion Institute, where all students and teachers belong to a wide variety of religions. The manga starts off gradually, showing how Mari arrives at school and is befriended by future best friend Saori, a Hindu girl. However, the anime jumps ahead to a point where Mari and Saori have also become acquainted with another classmate, handsome Tobishima, with whom Mari is smitten. In the anime Mari has already been transforming for some time into "Gautaman," a name that may be a combination of the 1970s anime GATCHAMAN and the personal cognomen of the Buddha. Mari's origin is super-simple; the first time she's in peril, she calls on God for help, but instead the Buddha answers and gives her the power to change into Gautaman. It's not clear exactly what powers Gautaman has, for she's usually seen just hitting villains with punches and kicks. Once or twice, she satisfies the oddity of her name by slamming into someone with her big, well-exposed butt. Yet even in 45 minutes, there aren't as many butt-jokes as I expected.

As for the source of peril, Guataman's source of enemies is a gang called the "Black Buddhas," who want to force everyone at the school to convert to their religion, whatever it is. There's nothing remotely Buddhist about any of the villains: some of them dress up like octopi (I think they get turned into sashimi) and their leader calls himself "Pope Johann" and dresses accordingly. (He also turns into a Terminator at the climax.) Mari in her "secret identity" is terribly embarrassed by her alter ego's showiness, especially since Tobishima considers Guataman to be little better than a whore. Yet he really has no room to talk, for Tobishima is a member of the Black Buddhas.                       

The biggest surprise for GAUTAMAN is that for a one-shot OVA, it actually has a unifying arc despite the rampant silliness. Two-thirds of the way through, Mari's father recognizes her in her superhero ID, because-- he recognizes her exposed butt as that of his own little girl. Surprisingly, there's no sense that his butt-recognition is pervy in any way, which perviness is something one sees a LOT of, in anime. Further, because the dad disapproves of Mari being a half-naked hero, he tells her that unless she gives it up, he'll remove her from school. Of course at the end, Mari must become Gautaman to battle Tobishima in his super-villain guise. She wins, but then loses, because the OAV does end with Dad and Mari departing the school by train. We don't see Tobishima wishing her goodbye, but Saori does. She for her part had been tossing out a few lesbian overtures to Mari throughout the anime, and Mari didn't pick up on them, but for the conclusion she confesses to Mari as she leaves. Mari pledges that they'll see one another again-- roll credits. It wasn't anything heart-rending, to be sure. But it was at least an original way to finish up a video that was mostly naked boobs and butts, dopey religious jokes, and light lesbianism.

        

ANGEL WITH THE IRON FISTS (1967)

 

PHENOMENALITY: *uncanny* 
MYTHICITY: *poor*
FRYEAN MYTHOS: *adventure*
CAMPBELLIAN FUNCTION: *sociological*

If you know in advance that ANGEL is primarily a modern-day superspy flick, you may think that the title suggests a blend between that genre and the nascent genre of the Hong Kong chopsockie. What the viewer gets, though, is a pretty low-wattage effort, even if it's one of the few 1960s secret agent flicks to focus on a female hero.

Lily Ho plays Luo Na, alias "Agent 009," and her assignment is to infiltrate a gang of crooks called the Dark Angels. They really seem to be nothing but crooks, with no ties to international espionage and no plans to conquer the world. Nevertheless, even though Luo is doing the job of a police undercover agent, she has a smattering of uncanny spy-weapons, like a metal-edged card that can be used to disarm enemies or a perfume-spray filled with knockout gas. 

 I have no information on the films that director Lo Wei helmed before ANGEL, so it's not impossible that this was one of his first movies that needed strong action sequences. Lily Ho does project pretty good authority in her few fight-scenes, but the only one that catches fire is a battle with a mobster's jealous girlfriend (Fanny Fann). Later Lo Wei would distinguish himself with entries like Bruce Lee's big success FIST OF FURY and my personal favorite of the works I've seen, VENGEANCE OF A SNOW GIRL. But ANGEL is no more than a period curiosity, made risible by the repeated use of musical passages from the library of 007 cinema.       

SEVEN MEN OF KUNG FU (1978)

 

PHENOMENALITY: *uncanny* 
MYTHICITY: *poor*
FRYEAN MYTHOS: *adventure*
CAMPBELLIAN FUNCTION: *sociological*

I can only echo this online post that this misbegotten chopsocky, by a writer-director who only made four films in his career, is the most atrociously edited film the kung-fu genre has ever produced. It's yet another take on the old "Chings vs. Mings" quarrel, and I think main villain Chang Yi (seen above with red-dyed hair) is one of the Mings, also called "anti-Chings" by the subtitles on the streaming copy I watched. In addition to Chang Yi, the other three top-billed performers are the redoubtable diva Lung Chung-erh, Chang Ying-chen (billed elsewhere as Emily Chang Ying-chen), and Lo Lieh. I didn't see the name of Chan Sing in the barely-Anglicized credits, but I think he, along with Lieh and Emily, are the "good Chings" of the story, one of whom gets the honor of fighting the evil potentate played by Chang Yi.

Hong Kong chopsockies aren't models of exposition at the best of times, but this director Cheung Hang is the worst of the worst. He barrels past any setup that would familiarize viewers with who the characters and what they want, and he seems in a tearing hurry to get to the really important scenes, where characters stand around and recite sententious aphorisms. This is perhaps the talkiest chopsocky ever made. There's a brief sense of romance between Chan Sing and the actress I believe to be Emily Chang, but it comes to naught when she's killed. I admit that I'm not sure I've correctly ID'd the girl wielding her sword beside Chan Sing, but that's my best guess.    

         

So what the hell does "Doris" Lung-Chung-erh play? If the cited review is correct, she plays some sort of weird witch-being who's seen intermittently throughout the film (via repetitions of the exact same scene), in the company of a white-faced guy later called a "zombie." But her actual participation is to show up at the end to harass Lo Lieh over some unclear grievance. She sics her zombie on him, which he defeats with ease. But then she hits Lo with something like a fire-spell, wounds him with a wire-weapon, and then just beats his ass with kung-fu, which Lo can't seem to counter. There's a quick voiceover about honor and duty, and then the film just ends, leading me to the conclusion that the witch-woman killed Lo. It wouldn't be the first time in a chopsocky that a hero died at the end, but viewers usually know what the hell he's dying for.

Only the sight of Lung beating up Lo Lieh gives this turkey even mild curiosity value. 

    

BRAIN ROBBERS FROM OUTER SPACE (2004)

 

PHENOMENALITY: *marvelous* 
MYTHICITY: *poor*
FRYEAN MYTHOS: *drama*
CAMPBELLIAN FUNCTION: *metaphysical*

Why would anyone make a schlock-movie tribute to PLAN 9 FROM OUTER SPACE that lasts THREE AND A HALF HOURS, and why would anyone watch it? I can't answer the first question, but I have a partial answer to the second. In my case, I was looking for something mindless to play in the background while I worked on a fairly involved couple of blogposts. So I checked out the first few minutes of BRAIN ROBBERS FROM OUTER SPACE, whose title is a callout to PLAN's unused original title, "Grave Robbers from Outer Space. As soon as I heard director/co-writer Garland Hewitt trying to finesse his story of invading, zombie-making aliens with faux-learned references about HP Lovecraft, Aleister Crowley and the Illuminati, I knew I'd found my ideal timewaster.

I can also guess at the reason why Hewitt undertook the project: in the hope of garnering publicity for his career (which from looking at his credits on IMDB does not seem to have gone anywhere much). If one appreciates the degree of work it takes to put together just an average hour-and-half DTV flick, one has to give Hewitt some credit for persistence. The most detailed online review of this turkey asserts that Hewitt spent TEN YEARS compiling almost four hours of shot-on-video scenes with amateur actors, while IMDB estimates that his budget might have been about a thousand bucks. IMDB also carries a publicity line about how all of the assorted "actors" had "one degree of" links to Ed Wood. More like "one degree of links to COPS." That's what ROBBERS looks like; endless scenes of people sitting around tacky houses or trailers having meaningless conversations, occasionally interrupted by aliens, who also have a lot of meaningless conversations. The very tenuous connections to PLAN are that (a) head alien Morphea, who seems to be a fellow in drag, claims to be the granddaughter of the original two aliens, and that she's again reviving corpses in order to conquer Earth, and (b) one of the humans opposing Morphea is supposed to be an older version of "Officer Jamey," a support-character from PLAN. He's played by the only professional actor in the troupe, Conrad Brooks, who turned his reputation for having been in six Ed Wood movies into a long-term career of "so-bad-they-might-be-good" DTV movies. To say that he's the best actor in this movie, though, is no compliment. Brooks had about as much competition from the other players as he did from pieces of inanimate furniture.

Here the highlights that I bothered to scribble down:

At one point, some fishermen find a canister on a downed flying saucer. They take the canister for examination to a scientist, who analyzed it with what sounded like a "morphic resonance" machine. Hey, it's one thing to pick on the long-dead Aleister Crowley, but Rupert Sheldrake is still alive!

Since Hewitt must've felt the film needed someone to be his sequel's "Vampira," Morphea takes it into her head to change an ordinary Earth-girl named Lilith (Lara Stewart) into a bloodsucker. This she does with some mumbo-jumbo about a serpentine spirit related (I think) to the Lilith of Jewish legend. Later this action bites Morphea (is her name another Sheldrake reference?) in the ass because Lilith turns on the head alien, beats her down and kills her near the climax.

Aged Officer Jamey (who has in his house a framed photo of a younger Brooks with Bela Lugosi) is joined by various forgettable allies, one being a young policewoman, Mary (Raye Ramsey), whose big scene consists of bitch-slapping some guy-- which was more action that we get from all the desultory zombie-killing moments.

A gypsy fortuneteller utters lines from both THE WOLF MAN and GLEN AND GLENDA.

And finally, Hewitt tries to come up with a few Wood-like malapropisms, the chief one being, "prostitution may be the world's oldest profession, but grave robbing probably runs a close second."

But in truth, Hewitt's homage has nearly nothing in common with the oeuvre of Ed Wood. Wood had a fetish about female clothing and was only able to grind out his dimestore movies thanks to a cast of eccentrics. But in truth his most famous works are very "Hollywood" in the TYPE of stories he told, as opposed to his ability to tell them. To be sure, I've seen none of Wood's porno work, but it looks to me like he did those films to pay his bills, and that he'd much rather have been directing B-westerns. If Hewitt's messterpiece resembles any low-budget auteur's movies, ROBBERS resembles a much longer version of a Ray Dennis Steckler flick. But even this comparison fails to some extent, for the partisans of Steckler (not me) sometimes argue that all the people in his films look like they're having a good time with their schlock. Maybe that was true of the multitudinous members of the ROBBERS cast, or at least of a few, like the two dudes aping the Tarantino hitmen from PULP FICTION. But if so, the performers don't transmit any of their glee to the lens of the camera.                                     

        

LUPIN III: STEAL NAPOLEON'S DICTIONARY! (1991)

 

PHENOMENALITY: *marvelous* 
MYTHICITY: *fair*
FRYEAN MYTHOS: *comedy*
CAMPBELLIAN FUNCTION: *sociological*

For a LUPIN III TV special, DICTIONARY certainly has an interesting angle. It's one thing to begin with the premise that the family of Lupin has rumored to have hidden away some fabulous lost treasure. From this notion stems the inventive development that several world powers decide that they're going to hijack the treasure to solve their fiscal problems. (The dialogue doesn't mention that this is a reversal of the usual situation, where the Lupin gang is usually stealing from the powerful and the prosperous.) And the key to finding the rumored bounty is Napoleon's dictionary, which only became a part of history because the ruler supposedly said, "The word 'impossible' is not in my dictionary."

I don't remember how the world powers learn that the dictionary contains a treasure-clue, but even Lupin III doesn't know where it is, until a novelty car-race offers the item as a first prize. Since all the cars in the race have to be antique restorations, Lupin promptly rigs up an old flivver with special technology-- including the power of flight-- and takes part in the race, accompanied by a reluctant Jigen and later, a Goemon who unleashes his super-samurai skills in the name of "duty." (Duty as a thief?) The dogged Zenigata knows that Lupin will seek to win the race, so he too acquires an old car to participate, accompanied by Chieko Kido, a pretty young Japanese intelligence agent. Also joining the race is flirtatious Fujiko, though initially she seemed more concerned with seducing a handsome young millionaire racer-- at least until she decides she might make more dough by cutting in on Lupin's big score. Assorted agents of the world powers make the scene, though they don't join the race and seem to act erratically, sometimes trying to capture Lupin to pick his brain, sometimes trying to kill him. One such effort involves the Americans sending a tracker-missile to wipe out Lupin and Jigen, which the crooks only escape thanks to Lupin converting his car into a submarine and hiding from the missile in a lake.

The covetous agents are not particularly strong villains, but this allows the story to devote a lot more time to the comically obsessed Zenigata. He briefly captures his quarry, but disguise-master Lupin not only assumes the cop's likeness but makes up Zenigata to look like himself. This eventuates in one comic scene where the beleaguered cop has to pretend to be Lupin while in the company of Lupin's gang-members, and also an interlude in which "Zenigata" spends time in the company of Chieko. Unlike Zenigata, who's totally devoted to his quest for capturing super-thieves, Chieko has begun to have doubts about her dedication to serving a faceless intelligence agency. By the movie's end, Chieko does decide, with Lupin's help, to give up law enforcement, which decision stands in contrast to Goemon's dedication to peerless lawbreaking.

Goemon's big sword-feat here involves being attacked by several small tracker-missiles, which he carves up like sashimi. This LUPIN emphasizes comedy more than adventure, particularly in the revelation of the nature of the "treasure."

                                    

THE BLACK BELLY OF THE TARANTULA (1971)

 

PHENOMENALITY: *uncanny* 
MYTHICITY: *fair*
FRYEAN MYTHOS: *drama*
CAMPBELLIAN FUNCTION: *psychological*

SPOILERS SPOILERS SPOILERS

Here we have another giallo with an animal-name, testifying to a minor Argento influence on director Paulo Cavara. Cavara's only well-known giallo (this being the better known of two) lacks Argento's focus upon seamy psychology and aesthetic murder-scenarios, and often Cavara's pace has more resemblance to fast-paced polizitteschis. 

World-weary police inspector Tellini (Giancarlo Giannini) is thinking about a career change, maybe one that would allow him more time with his sexy wife Anna (Stefania Sandrelli). Then a serial killer with a unique murder-pattern gets dropped in Tellini's lap. Beautiful women with no known social connections begin dying at the hand of a madman who's unusually sadistic. The killer utilizes a special poison derived from that of a tarantula hawk-wasp: venom with which the wasp paralyzes a spider in order to lay its eggs in the spider's flesh. Used on the madman's victims, the venom paralyzes them so that they remain conscious as the killer eviscerates them.

Tellini isn't intellectually intrigued by the murders as some detectives might be, and indeed, despite his training he seems disgusted by the case. And after the maniac has preyed upon such victims as Barbara Bouchet and Barbara Bach-- he decides to go after the inspector's wife as well.

Though the killer's method is very inventive, and he's the star of the story as the murderer usually is in such dramas, TARANTULA is noteworthy for the ambivalent ending (that's why the SPOILER warning is there). In short, Tellini finds the madman, and after a violent battle-- simply kills him. Cavara's last shot is of the guilty officer leaving the scene of the murder and disappearing into a crowd of regular citizens. The strong implication is that Tellini will get away with the crime, but whether he regrets playing executioner, the viewer can only guess. Not many ambivalent conclusions work well in the giallo subgenre, but Cavara's is one of the best.