Black Sheep (2006)



Director: Jonathan King
Starring: Nathan Meister, Danialle Mason, Peter Feeney

So I was going to get some coffee and read a little European History to myself and as I'm getting out of my car I run into my little buddy Drew. I ask him what he's doing. He's going to see "Black Sheep" at the art cinema around the corner. I wonder why anyone would pay to see Chris Farley, and it shows on my face. "No no no," he postures, "it's a movie about ZOMBIE SHEEP." So I go with him.

Dear sweet bejeezus. That may have been the best decision of my adult life.

So basically some hippies invade a New Zealand sheep farm run by a deviant shepherd technocrat in order to stop some cruel and unusual genetic experimentation gone wrong or something. One of the hippies unleashes a zombie sheep foetus which proceeds to eat his ear off. My god it's beautiful. The foetus goes on to infect other sheep and the chaos ensues. Chaos and doom. I like doom.


When the sheep foetus attacked the hippie, I cried with joy.

The hippie begins turning into a were-sheep zombie and his now ex-girlfriend Experience (played with a divine seriousness by Danielle Mason) must team up with the deviant shepherd's younger brother Henry (scarred since childhood with sheep-phobia) to stop the bleating horde. I haven't laughed so hard at zombies since "Shaun of the Dead" and by god, no matter how perfectly it's done, I can't take a bloody mouthed sheep seriously. I did jump once, however.


Henry meets the ex. Not my ex. Another one. Hers.

This movie has no boobs or anything. Experience is cute, and the Kiwi accents are nice, but the sheep really steal the show. The movie also includes what may quite possibly be the WORST BLOWJOB EVER GIVEN but on that subject I will say no more. Shears are repurposed in one fight scene. Were-sheep. Nuff said.

Verdict: Cinematic brilliance. Filmed as humor, works as humor. Probably the best zombie-sheep movie ever made. Maybe the only zombie-sheep movie ever made. Eight gazillion stars or so. Experience uses a chopstick to acupuncture a were-sheep into a coma. Nods to "The Howling" and "Raiders of the Lost Ark" are nice touches. Excellent use of meat.

The official site! Watch the trailer! This movie may actually still be in theatres! Go see it!

Karate Cops (1988)

Director: Leo Fong
Starring: George Chung, Chuck Jeffreys

Las Vegas, 3:00am. Some douchebag gets shot in the eye in what seems to merely be a drug deal gone sour. Ummmm... no. See, this douchebag happens to be the close friend of former Texas Ranger and now Las Vegas police officer Alexander Hakamoto, aka "Hawkeye" (original title of film) and Hawkeye (who gets deeply moved momentarily when he hears of said douchebag's death) is gonna fuck some shit up until the bastards what killed his friend pay the price. And pay the price they will. Along the way, if you stay awake, you also will pay. Pay heavily... with your SANITY!

In 1988, Las Vegas was way, way rougher than it is now, in the era of friendly. family-oriented TV ads. Back then, cops could brandish their weapons at any time, threaten children with murder, and stop for coffee on the way to a bank robbery, only to punch a bank teller in the face and shoot wildly into a crowd of hostages. Now why the hell is the chief always on Hawkeye's case? Jeez! I kept waiting for someone to say, "You're reckless Hawkeye, that's why I don't like you." No one ever did. Sigh.

Hawkeye is teamed with Charlie Murphy impersonater Chuck Jefferys, who perpetrates some of the only acting in this movie. This flick is kind of like a Beverly Hills Cop/Jackie Chan movie... "Rush Hour" ...but it's like Jackie Chan turned into an asshole and Eddie Murphy's jokes all fall flat. Man, did it feel great when a gangster popped them both in the head with the butt-end of an AR-15. YES!!!

Here's a picture of a very young ninja:



Honestly, this movie takes retarded to new levels. I haven't heard a soundtrack this thrilling since I got put on hold calling my car insurance company. Hawkeye talks so much about "drinking beer and packing shit" that when he finally goes into a gay bar and the obligatory joke is made it's anticlimactic because you've already cracked the joke yourself and done it with style. Sometimes I couldn't tell if the actors were acting like they were acting poorly or just acting poorly. Madness.

Some tits, but Hawkeye is dating the only pretty girl in Las Vegas, and she stays dressed. Yakusa leader looks like Gilbert Gottfried. No catfights. Some fights. Hawkeye's sensei was a fat pederast at the local YMCA. Nice.

Verdict: Ultra mega super retarded. Can I give negative stars? Alright, one star for the following quote: "Charlie my boy, I wanna go back to the morgue. My hunch tells me something's wrong, and when you're from Texas, you play off that hunch. That's the way they did it in the old days. That's the way the West was won." I rewound that like three times, laughing hysterically. Christine thought I was retardeder than usual.


BLEARGH!!!

May (2002)

Director: Lucky McKee
Starring: Angela Bettis, Jeremy Sisto, Anna Faris

This film was described to me as a "Horror movie, no, wait... love story?" to which I replied, "Okay." So Sally and I walked out of Video Renaissance with this flick in hand (Pirates of the Carribean 2 has yet to be released, dammit!) Upon viewing, I had but one response: "Woah, betch, you crazy." I refer of course not to Sally, my erstwhile and confusified roommate, but to the main character, May, who is the brand new shiny poster child for lazy-eyed nascent serial killers. She pretty too! Pretty weird, but you love weird, right?


I told you to face the wall!

Forced to wear an eyepatch in childhood by her control-freak mom, May's best friend is a doll. May likes to yell at the doll. It's fun. May also works at a veterinary clinic with sleazy lesbo Polly (played with a wonderful aura of retardation by Faris.) May sure is good at sewing. Real good. She also thinks nobody's perfect, but some people have perfect parts. All it takes are a few bad lays and suddenly May's running around like a coffeeshop Frankenstein, gathering pieces of a new best friend. I simplify, but this is essentially a sophisticated Frankenhooker, for the ladies. Hear that ladies?


Goddammit Polly, everyone knows not to trust the girl with the scalpel!

No boobs, but some girl on girl kissyface. Awesome out-of-nowhere neck stabbing. May is the most socially awkward female character since Dawn Weiner in Welcome to the Dollhouse and you'll dig her creepy antics. Biggest shitball in the movie gets killed too. Unfortunate cat-death by ashtray.

Verdict: Seventeen stars. Very enjoyable scene with blind children crawling on broken glass made me rejoice after years of hating blind children alone. Fucking blind kids. Thank you Lucky McKee.

Rubber's Lover (1996)


Director: Shozin Fukui
Starring: Nao, Sosuke Saito, Mika Kunihiro

A long time ago the mad Rockus gave me a Japanese t-shirt that had some bondage girly on it and the words "Rubber's Lover" emblazoned about said girl. We were sure it was just some wacky japlish t-shirt. Two weeks ago I was browsing the aisles of Video Renaissance and stopped short. There it was: Rubber's Lover. It looked like some gay-ass Tetsuo rip-off, but I thought, "Hey, this I will do for the Rockus." I rented it.


You should not have rented me. Go get high.

Guess what? It's kind of a gay-ass Tetsuo rip-off. To summarize: when scientists do way too much ether and blow people's brains out with nasty sound waves in an underground torture bunker in black and white Josh gets irritated. Further: when a secretary comes to said bunker and gets raped and subjected to torture and then busts out with the help of one of those fucked up scientists who now has psychic powers and a lust for revenge Josh gets frustrated. And if the exact same film happens to already be racking up a grotesquely huge late-fee, Josh wants to die.

Some creepy naked Japanese stuff. Mechano-torture goofiness. Astounding, irritating suck.

Verdict: Two stars. One for black, one for white.

Lizard in a Woman's Skin (1971)


Director: Lucio Fulci
Starring: Florinda Bolkan, Stanley Baker, Jean Sorel

Crap crap crap. The introductory psychodelic freak-out naked train lesbian sex-attack sequence set a tone for this film that it was just unable to maintain. Quickly, this psycho murder story about blackmail and wile becomes nothing more than a cautionary tale about hippies. WE ALREADY KNOW THAT HIPPIES ARE BAD! Sigh.

Carol Hammond has bad dreams. She dreams that she goes over to her neighbor's apartment and scrumps her wildly every night in the midst of a hippie drug freak-out. Damn hippies. This culminates in a murderous dream that leaves Carol shaken to the core. She awakens to find that her neighbor actually IS dead. The rest of the film is sadly devoid of nudity, which has been replaced with attacks by bats and attractive, knife-throwing hippies. Not good.


When hippies attack.

Some terrible 1970's fake tits. No catfights. Braless sweater-wearing. Rubber bats in a church. Obnoxious whistling police inspector.

Verdict: Retarded. Don't bother. References to this film as "intense" and "tightly plotted" are by noodleheads as light-loafered as the evil hippies of this film. No stars.

Lifespan (1974)


Director: Sandy Whitelaw
Starring: Hiram Keller, Tina Aumont, Klaus Kinski

When I researched this flick, I noticed that other reviewers were giving it threes out of fives and calling it an "engrossing, intellectual drama." That, my friends, is just bullshit. Maybe I read too much sci-fi to be impressed by this crap. Seriously, an hour and a half of narrated ethical flip-flopping on human testing does me no good entertainment-wise. Rather put my balls in a vise, frankly. Well, not really. I like my balls too much.

Basically, Dr. Land (Hiram Keller) travels to Amsterdam to research gerontology and ends up feeding mice, digging up a grave, and sport-fucking Anna (Tina Aumont) as he tries to unravel the work of his dead predecessor. All the while, that bug-eyed, giant-foreheaded weirdo Klaus Kinski, as a Swiss pharaceutical magnate, lurks about sniffing roses and wearing faustian masks. I apologize if my writing style is making this seem interesting, because it's not.


You've just reached the best part of the film.

About thirty minutes into the film, Anna coerces Dr. Land into a bondage session. This tame-ass scene was apparently grounds for serious editing in 1974. Oh how times have changed. It's the only part of the film that I could focus on, barring the hypnotic buck-toothed gaping maw of Land's gopher-boy assistant. This movie really couldn't hold my interest at all. The whole thing is further undercut by a droning narrative by Keller that washes throughout the movie, destroying any sense of mystery and removing any necessity of rational thought on the part of the viewer. Remember folk: voice-overs mean that dialogue and action are failing to elucidate the plot... re-write the script!

Some bondage. No catfights. Elephant mating trumpets. The Anne Frank Museum.

Verdict: Stunningly retarded. One-quarter star for Tina's bondage scene. This movie fucking sucks.

Gwendoline (1984)


Director: Just Jaeckin
Starring: Tawny Kitaen, Brent Huff, Zabou

Urgh. Sometimes a flick has so much promise! Then it lets you down, hard, like plucking a rose only to find out it's got massive poisonous thorns filled with killer ants, the ones that chew off your genitals. Those bastards. Anyhoo, I thought, "How could this go wrong? It's directed by the guy who did Emmanuelle. It's got Tawny Kitaen naked. It's (loosely, very loosely) based on those wacked out John Willie bondage comics. It's got to be awesome!" Well, I was wrong, and I've spent several hours smacking my stupid brain around, the dumb bitch. Seriously, though, this movie should have been amazing. For crissake, the original title was The Perils of Gwendoline in the Land of the Yik Yak! I mean, come on! Look at the original movie poster:



It has it's moments. When Gwendoline and her bitch get kidnapped by slavers in an oriental hellhole at the beginning of the movie, protagonist Willard springs them from imprisonment by ripping a dude's ears off. Nice. Later, as Gwendoline, Willard, and gawky third wheel/handmaiden Beth trudge through a jungle to find the killers of Gwendoline's butterfly-hunting father, Gwendoline points at a snake. She asks Willard, "Is that a boa?" "No," he snarls back, "it's a goldfish." Yup. Comedy gold. Apart from that, the first half of the movie is a trudge through a variable boring hell alleviated only when the girls take their shirts off in a rainstorm. The only thing remarkable is how quickly climate zones change in the Yik Yak. Behind one hill, desert. Over the hill, jungle. Things only get interesting once the characters get to the mysterious hidden city of topless girls in bondage gear.


Has the movie gotten better, or is it just that we're naked?

I'm not sure I can go on any more. Let's just say... there's a chariot race with chariots drawn by women, which is in the spirit of John Willie, and that's somewhat amusing. The gladiatorial combats between half naked women are unaccountably lame. I never thought I'd say this, but after a while, the thongs get old, especially when Willard puts one on. When it comes down to it, this movie's main merits are Tawny and Zabou romping about in their skivvies. The acting is awful, and the post-production dubbed dialogue worse. Bleagh. There's no consistency to the characters either: one second Beth is a ditzy chump, the next she's spouting Yoda-style wisdom. Huh?


Try not. Do. Or do not. And hey, nice tits.

Catfights catfights catfights. Ridiculous tits and thongs. Man lowered into pit of sex-crazed women. Quartz crystals masquerading as diamonds. Tawny was in Witchboard, Bachelor Party, and that Whitesnake video as well, so it's nice to see her nekkid. Man in thong.

Verdict: So retarded it hurts. Two stars. One for naked Tawny. One for naked Zabou. But then again, Brent Huff in thong, so minus one and a half stars. Final score: half a star. Skip it.

Jesus Christ Vampire Hunter (2001)


Director: Lee Demarbre
Starring: Phil Caracas, Maria Moulton, Jeff Moffet, Murielle Varhelyi

I have no idea of how to begin a description of this incredible movie. Let's start with this:



Yes, that should give you an inkling of what I'm working with here. Right. So Jesus is hanging out in Ottowa, which is being overrun by a pack of lesbian-killing vampires who then graft lesbian skin onto their bodies so they can then stand the light of the sun. This makes sense. Anyhoo, Jesus teams up with the gun-toting Mary Magnum (richly performed by the oddly attactive Maria Moulton) who is subsequently aced by the viciously and not-at-all-ironically lesbian vampire dame Maxine Schreck. Pity. It's okay, don't cry, Mary comes back later as a dirtbike-riding vampire lesbian convert. Before that happens, however, Mary takes Jesus shopping so he can acquire a "modern" look.

Mary and Jesus chilling at the thrift store:


Yup. With his sidekick dead, what will Jesus do? Head down to Hooters for a bowl of ice cream? Hells yeah! Luckily, God chooses to speak to Jesus through said ice cream, and tells Jesus to team up with... Santo of the Silver Mask!!! That's right, Santo, of Santo Vs La Invasion de los Marcianos fame! Santo shows up with his strange assistant, Gloria Oddbottom, and ass proceeds to be kicked.


Shall we kick ass, Santo? Yes we shall.

It's a little-known fact that famous luchadores can gnaw through nylon cord in seconds. You learn that in the final battle scene, which has a finely scripted battle-on-two-fronts thing going, a la Return of the Jedi. From beginning to end, this movie delivers. Did I mention that it's a musical? Yes it is. And the soundtrack itself is a masterpiece of wacked out synths. Seriously. It's amazing. I emailed the director and he promised to burn and mail me a copy. Dig that! You can hear one of the best songs here at the official site. This is the song the credits roll to. I'm not even going to describe the lyrics.

Lesbians, dead and alive. Santo. Jesus knows kung-fu. Jesus beats the crap out of a carload of athiests. Intestines as nunchucks. No nudity. Jesus wears Adidas. Jesus' mom talks to him through a little ceramic doll ("God love those lesbians... they get so much done in a day, don't you think?")

Verdict: Retardtastic! An apostle's dozen. Twelve stars. Probably deserves more. Make it twenty-two. I'll give it an extra ten stars for the spinning crucifix fade-out homage to the old Batman live-action series.

Strip Nude for Your Killer (1975)


Director: Andrea Bianchi
Starring: Edwige Fenech, Carlo Bianchi, Lucia Cerrazini

If you're feeling Italian, by which I mean horny and frustrated with dreams of long-lost mediterranean-spanning imperial glory, then perhaps this film (originally titled Nude per l'assassino, which sounds dir-tay!) is just what the doctor ordered. It's kinda like a Scooby-Doo murder mystery with tits, which is great. I've been dreaming about those since I was a kid. This is apparently a genre or something in Italy, referred to as giallo. I'm a gonna have to tack giallo-cinema up there with the sukeban stuff from Japan. Hellfire, they were being made at the same time. I suppose you want to hear about the movie, though.

At the Albatross Modeling Agency, run by sapphic nazi Giselle, anything goes. When a model dies during a back-alley abortion, a hideous string of mutilation-murders begins decimating the staff and models. Is nothing sacred?!? Who would kill models? They're gorgeous! This sucks! Ah well, however high the body count gets, however tedious the protagonist's bad advice and misogynist attitude get, we will have one thing to console us: Edwige Fenech looks like a naked Audrey Hepburn. God Save America! I shit you not.


I'm gonna find my trousers, and I'm gonna put them on! Maybe.

There's really no point describing the plot of this film. Unlike traditional mysteries, no clues as to the killer's identity lie within. The survivors only discover who the murderer is when they rip a motorcylcle helmet off l'assassin's dying body. At which point the killer gasps, "I would have gotten away with it too, if not for you meddling kids... doubloons! Gack!" Not really, but it would fit.

Lesbianism. Gratuitious nudity. Edwige (oh Edwige! Sigh sigh sigh!) stitting around in panties and unbuttoned shirt. Fat guy in tighty-whities clutching a blow-up doll and a knife, feebly trying to defend himself. Movie ends with terrible "I'm gonna fuck your ass, just kidding!" joke.

Verdict: Retarded, but it has Edwige. Seven stars. Six for Edwige, one for the line, "Have I ever told you how terrible you look with clothes on?" Overall this is quality crap with a bow on it. I highly recommend it

Flesh Gordon (1974)


Directors: Michael Benveniste, Howard Ziehm
Starring: Jason Williams, Cindy Hopkins, Joseph Hudgins

This film was part of my whole descent into sixties/seventies schlock along with Barbarella and Danger: Diabolik (review pending). I think I need help. In all honesty, if aliens descended from the sky and accidently gathered this little crap-fest as example exemplar of our culture, they'd reduce this planet to a cinder. It's pretty bad.

Well, it's not that bad. In fact, it's a damn sight better than the early serials it mocks. And eerily, the eighties version of Flash Gordan is very similar. The plot: Evil Interstellar Emperor Wang the Perverted coats Earth with sex rays, sending the economy and Republican party into spiraling upgefucktedness. Dr. Flexi Jerkoff has a dildo-shaped spaceship and he invites Flesh and the luxioriously bosomed Dale Ardor to fly into space and get to the bottom (literally) of this bedamned ray. Wackiness and an x rating ensue.

Here's Flesh. All the intensity of a Bronx Warrior, eh?


What really sets this movie above what it could have been (wretchedy awful) are the special effects. There's a real nod to Harryhausen here, with a bunch of semi-quality stop-motion action scenes. There's also a big monster that looks, I shit you not, almost exactly like the Kraken from Clash of the Titans.

Lesbian catfighters. Robotic rape-bots. Dale has a nice rack and is afraid of no weather. Self-deprecating, we-know-this-is-an-awful-movie humor. Gay jokes.

Verdict: Not a family film. Four stars. There's a scene where the main characters get flushed down a toilet. Very satisfying.

1990: The Bronx Warriors (1982)



Director: Enzo G. Castellari
Starring: Vic Morrow, Fred Williamson, Mark Gregory

In the year 1990 (snicker) the Bronx has been declared a no-go zone run by viscious gangs. Gangs such as the Zombies, a terrifying rollerskate-samurai-lacrosse team that likes to waylay shoppers. Gangs like the scavengers, who lurk in the catacombs right beneath the second floor. Gangs very similar to your high school tap-dancing team, but with kung fu. There's a gang of pimps led by Ogre (Fred Williamson) who seems to run the whole shebang in fragile cahoots with the gang of middle-aged bikers run by Trash (the mincing and painfully gay Italian runway model Mark Gregory). When the daughter of the owner of Mahattan's largest defense corporation, Assholecorp or something, runs away into this nightmare hellscape of hell, all hell breaks loose, like in a good heavy-metal video from say... 1982.

Holy shit. Yeah, so Trash is the gayest piece of work to ever prance across the scene, the sheer awesomeness of his Tommy-tude matched only by his intensely wooden acting. Basically this movie has it all. Except for catfights. None of that. What it does have are horse-mounted flamethrower police, which are cool. I kinda wish I was one.

Verdict: Retarded. Everbody dies except for Trash, which is one person short of a perfect ending. One star. Actually, add a star for the drummer just sorta jamming away on the beach during the extremely tense meeting between Trash and Ogre at the beginning of the Movie. Two stars.

Ichi the Killer (2001)

Director: Takashi Miike
Starring: Tadanobu Asano, Nao Omori, Shinya Tsukamoto, Paulyn Sun

Amazing. I was actually at times overwhelmed by this film. Originally titled Koroshira 1 (which I'm guessing translates into Ichi the Killer, since ichi means one, but whatever) this film is by Miike, who is also known for God of Cookery and the masterful Happiness of the Katakuris, the best zombie musical yet made (sorry Jordan, it's been done). This is a story of revenge, revenge, revenge, although I wasn't ever quite sure who was revenging on who. I'm pretty sure that it was Jijii doing the revenging: Jijii the bizarre, secretly herculean janitorial dude who brainwashed the totally fucked-in-the-head perv Ichi into killing off yakusa by equating them with rapist bullies from Ichi's childhood. Ichi totally buys into this shit then dons his razor-shoed suit to wreck bloody havoc. The suit has a big number 1 emblazoned on the back. Cute.

This, understandably enough, furiously pisses off the Anjo yakusa clan, who are of the sort to keep the bloody havoc bloody inside the family thank you very much. The fabulously masochistic Kakihara leads the clan on a mad hunt for Ichi, along the way ensnaring the madly sexy Karen, who floats between english, japanese and chinese effortlessly. It's the sexiest goddamn thing I've ever seen. Too bad Ichi kicks her foot off. Dammit.


"You don't think I'd be sexier with one leg, do you?"

The big problem with this flick is that the characters you like die. Sorry, it's true. Also, Ichi is a giant screaming pathetic wussball who cries all the time. It makes for a disturbing fucking movie (at one point a face is kicked off and sldes down a wall) but it's irritating to become attached to (or in the case of Karen, sexually aroused by) a character only to see them turn into an arterial fountain moments later. Sigh.


Ichi! You're a big weepy mess who deserves to be kicked to death by a child!

Some boobs, but not very satisfying, as they're not Karen's. Some seriously fucked up torture scenes. Kakihara is the coolest, meanest, scariest dude you wouldn't want to date your sister ever.

Verdict: Ten stars, because Karen's "I want you to slice me into little pieces" monologue made me both aroused and ashamed, and then she died, which made me more ashamed.

Barbarella (1968)



Director: Roger Vadim
Starring: Jane Fonda, John Phillip Law, Anita Pallenberg, Milo O'shea

What? You haven't seen this? You've gotten this far into these reviews and you haven't seen Barbarella? You pathetic weaselly fuck! Begone! Rentify it now! That said, Barbarella is genius on so many levels, level one being Jane Fonda changes costume every time she leaves a room and Jane Fonda, my friends, is absolutely adorable in this flick. (Which allows us to forgive, perhaps, those workout videos from the eighties.) To summarize, Barbarella is a citizen of some fruity Galactic Federation or other that has given up on physical sex who has to trek across the ether in order to apprehend Duran Duran(!), a wily scientist who has invented a weapon. Just the fact that the dude's name is Duran Duran kept me chuckling through the whole movie.


"Meow! I'm a big sexy kitty! What will I be next scene?"

Along the way, Barbarella picks up this totally metrosexual angel named Pygar who is fucking blind but can fly all over the place after Jane makes love to him, restoring his "will to fly". I'd probably regain my "will not to be a big flowery poof" after having sex with Barbarella, but Pygar merely proceeds to fly blindly into stuff. I don't want to ruin the ending, but Duran Duran is the bad guy. Oh well, I guess I ruined it. Sucker.


"Angels have no memories." Or eyes, you big poof!

Some boobs. Very nice Jane Fonda boobs too, right in the beginning. Some rabbits spray-painted blue. Man-eating dolls. A very sexy Great Tyrant. Duran Duran. Machine that kills via orgasm.

Verdict: Awesome. Not Scott Pilgrim Awesome, but pretty Awesome. Thirty-seven and a half stars. That half is for the fact that it was based on a comic book, which is cool.


Cool-ass movie posters are cool.

Finally, who's hotter?

Barbarella


Or the Great Tyrant


I'll tell you what, Pygar don't care! He takes 'em both!

Female Yakusa Tale: Inquisition and Torture (1973)


Director: Teruo Ishii
Starring: Reiko Ike, Jun Midorikawa

Inquisition and Torture (Yasagure anego den: sokatsu rinchi) picks up where Sex and Fury leaves off, if Sex and Fury left off in the early sixties, which it doesn't. If anything, the outlandish sixties costumes constitute the grandest continuity failure in the history of Japanese yakusa-girl movies set in the Meiji era. Anyhoo, Ocho is accidently mistaken for a chinese prostitute drug-mule due to a rakish red scarf and is catapulted into a devilish tale of... inquisition and torture! What's torturous, really, is that this movie sacrifices the tight pacing and electric characterization of Sex and Fury for over-the-top nutsiness and shock-value scenes. The film pulls out of it's crazed spiral at the end with a gigantic battle between fifty naked prostitutes and a whole clan of yakusa. It's worth it.


"I love you, but I have drugs in my hoo-hoo."

Jesus Christ on a stick! That's a lot of boobs! More naked fighting than any person really ever needs to see. Blasphemy. The girls smuggle drugs in their hoo-hoos. Verdict: Retarded, but it has Reiko Ike. Ten and a half stars.

Sex and Fury (1973)


Director: Norifumi Suzuki
Starring: Reiko Ike, Christina Lindberg

This amazing film chronicles the exploits of female gambler extraordinaire Inoshika Ocho in the tumultuous world of Meiji-era Japan. A chance encounter with a crazed anarchist leads Ocho to the first of the three criminals who murdered her father and led her into her sordid life of crime. Enter an American gambler who may or may not be Ocho's ally and this tightly plotted film edges ever-closer to it's no-holds-barred conclusion.



What's incredible about this film for me is that it was my intitial introduction to Reiko Ike and the entire Pinky Violence genre of Japanese film. Man, there is a fight scene early on in the film wherein Ocho (Reiko Ike) fights eight guys, naked, in the snow, with swords. My head literally exploded with Scott Pilgrim-level awesomeness. It was incredible. I don't even know how to describe this later scene that involves nuns.

Mad boobs. Mad tattooed boobs. Ocho poisons a guy by putting evil purfume on her cooch and making him lick it off. Nuns. Naked swordfighting. Nuff said.

Verdict: Life-changing. Forty-two stars. And one loud DAMN!