France Gall might not have had the sophisticated mystique of Francoise Hardy, the it girl “oomph” of Sylvie Vartan, or the continental sensuality of Bardot, but she was nonetheless an integral part of the Yeh Yeh Girl pantheon. It could even be said that her young age — 15 at the time of signing her first recording contract — made her the most accurate reflection of that uniquely French musical movement’s teeny bopper audience. As such, she presented a guileless naiveté that perhaps made her an ideal blank slate upon which some of France’s best professional songwriters could project their pop fantasies — the most well known of those being Gall “family friend” Serge Gainsbourg. Because, really, who better to entrust your teenage daughter’s fortunes to than Serge Gainsbourg?
I have nobody to blame but myself. I mean, by now I should know that Hong Kong movies are not what they once were (i.e. good). And I should certainly know not to expect anything much from pop duo The Twins, a.k.a. Charlene Choi and Gillian Chung – I did, after all, suffer through their crummy vampire action mess The Twins Effect. So why in the Gay Blue Hell would I be interested in Protégé De La Rose Noire, their latest box office smash? Well, because one of my Hong Kong heroes, Donnie Yen, was the man behind the camera, and Donnie kicks ass. He was the action choreographer on The Twins Effect, and deserves the credit for making the mostly non-fighter cast look halfway competent. So maybe, just maybe, he could pull something out of the fire. Also of interest is that the movie features Donnie’s little sister Chris Yen, returning to the big screen for the first time since her debut in the little-known 1986 Yuen Woo-ping film Close Encounter With A Vampire. Still, I didn’t dare get my hopes too high, which is just as well because the movie still couldn’t live up to them.
You can throw rubber fish at us all you want, but that’s not going to stop Doug McClure from punching a giant Octopus in the face, and it’s not going to stop me from a guest appearance on the Hammicus … Continue reading Hammicus: Warlords of Atlantis
Writing about Northern Soul as a genre defies some of the easy shorthand that a part time music critic and admitted hack like myself might otherwise reach for. And by that I mean that, despite its name, it is a musical movement defined not by how and where the music was created and played — as opposed to, for instance, “Philly Soul”, or “Delta Blues” — but by how and where it was consumed and curated. In my case, learning that it was, in fact, a British musical movement based around overlooked American soul records — and hence an antecedent to contemporary DJ and “crate digger” culture — was one of those “a-ha” moments that sees something perceived only dimly from the periphery of experience suddenly come sharply into focus. Aiding that focus was Charly Records’ just released double disc Up All Night!: 56 Northern Soul Classics, which not only provides an expansive musical overview of the scene, but also stands as a testament to its enduring appeal. The set combines two seminal Northern Soul compilations first released by Charly on vinyl in the early 90s and again on disc a few years later. In the reissue process, the label this time around also saw fit to include a brief but informative set of liner notes from veteran music journalist Bob Fisher and a generous helping of bonus tracks that include some of the best tunes on the comp overall.
Bela Lugosi Meets a Brooklyn Gorilla is a cheap and lazy starring vehicle for Martin and Lewis copycats Duke Mitchell (yes, the same Duke Mitchell who later went on to make Massacre Mafia Style) and Sammy Petrillo (yes, the same Sammy Petrillo who later went on to star in Doris Wishman’s Keyholes are for Peeping). And as you might guess from the title, Bela Lugosi shows up (though he barely seems cognisant of the fact) to earn himself a little more morphine money and does indeed encounter a gorilla from — but not in — Brooklyn. I’d been hearing for years how awful Brooklyn Gorilla was from people possessed of substantial strength when it comes to tackling the very worst cinema has to offer.
I was uhm-ing and ahh-ing about reviewing this one given it’s a film with a rather high level of tween-girl appeal, and I didn’t want to tarnish my stout-yet-manly Franco Nero-in-Enter the Ninja image. But then Keith admitted to watching … Continue reading I Am Number Four
Many films focus on the glamour of the modeling industry, but it seems that it’s only the horror genre that concerns itself with its dangers. Movies like Horror of Spider Island and Bloody Pit of Horror have shown us how, time and again, models and those charged with tending to them have been called upon to place themselves in harm’s way, like soldiers at the front. And perhaps no more credible presentation of that reality can be found than in 1981’s Dawn of the Mummy — even if that film also asks us to believe that an American fashion magazine would bankroll a whole crew traveling to Egypt just to shoot dresses that look like old lady nightgowns.