Movieline Online

Michael Venus’ feature debut, Sleep (2021), although it becomes almost Lynchian in its obtuse imagery, is, at its heart, a mystery; one that uncovers personal, family and generational secrets.   And it’s that narrative drive that makes it so compelling…despite its sometime maddening attempts to keep audiences in the dark.   Mona races to a hospital in the small village of Stainbach where her mother, Marlene, has suffered a psychological breakdown.  Booking a room in the same hotel where the “incident” occurred, she becomes suspicious of the proprietors, Otto and Lore, whose helpful demeanor seems to disguise a sinister agenda.  The proximity triggers a series of dreams (flashbacks?) that Mona struggles to piece together, unearthing the history of a series of suicides that seem related to her own family tree and a ghostly presence that uses her for its own ends. By the time the credits roll, Sleep has resolved all its loose ends…which, in itself, separates it from the Lynchian oeuv

Directors like Mario Bava are the reason cult movie fans exist.  Working under miniscule budgets with fly-by-night foreign producers who distributed the final product under a seemingly endless number of alternative titles, often just tracking down the muddy lineage of Bava’s work is a genealogical case study unto itself.  But it’s the thrill of the chase that fans enjoy most, sifting through the pseudonyms and cinematic dead-ends to unearth something truly special from a man who was 30 years ahead of his time. The last ten years have made things much simpler, with several companies stepping up to the plate to deliver stellar version of the maestro’s films.  Arrow Video’s Blu-ray special edition of  Shock  is the latest, featuring a brand-new 2K restoration from the original negative of what would be his final film, a family affair with assistance from his son – and future director himself – Lamberto Bava.  It’s a familiar tale of ghostly revenge and murderous madness that winds up bein

After humbling themselves post-WW2, Japanese war films took on a decidedly grim tone early on, casting aside the propaganda that continued in American cinema until the late ‘60s.     Armed conflict was brutal, ugly and pointless; and Yasuzo Masumura’s   Red Angel   (1966) makes sure audiences get the point. Sakura Nishi (Ayako Wakao) is a nurse serving on the front lines during the Second Sino-Japanese War, not only dealing with ravaged bodies and severed limbs but the violently overactive libidos of soldiers who fear no consequences.  After being raped on the medical ward, Nishi struggles to rise above her feelings for revenge, even pleading with Dr. Okabe (Shinsuke Ashida) to save her attacker’s life.  Her mercy strikes a chord in the cynical physician and the two develop a complicated relationship that struggles to survive in the midst of near constant chaos.   Red Angel  is a love story of sorts.  Nishi does more that stitch up wounds and plug bullet holes; she uses her endless sup

For most people martial arts films begin and end with Bruce Lee.  Not that there’s anything wrong with that.  Lee’s filmography contains some of the most stunningly choreographed fight scenes ever put on celluloid and his charismatic execution rightfully made him an international star.  But the catalog of work released by Shaw Brothers, a Hong Kong studio which specialized in kung fu exports throughout the ‘60s and ‘70s, puts its own particular brand of genius on display.  Sure, Bruce Lee might have taken on fifty guys at once…but did he ever do it with a hatchet buried three inches deep in his solar plexus?  I think not. Starting off with  King Boxer , the curated list of titles don’t follow any sort of release pattern but instead provide a loosely connected theme for newbies and experienced fans to follow.  From the satisfying training montages of  Shaolin Temple to the bugnuts insanity of  Mighty Peking Man , an Asian take on  King Kong  that’s even more entertaining than the Dino D