The Web of Death is one of those martial arts films in Chor Yuen’s catalog that is inessential, but nonetheless enjoyable. It provides a nice break for completists like myself, who have had to suffer through far worse in their mission to watch every single one of the man’s films. While I certainly wouldn’t recommend it as an introduction to his movies, I think it’s well worth checking out for those who have already made their way through all of his top tier works. Especially those who felt that those works didn’t bare a strong enough resemblance to Earth vs. The Spider.

Oh man, was this bad. While I have no problem with low or no-budget movies, or even poorly made incompetent movies, Black Shampoo was a chore to sit through. The title is a reference to the 1975 Warren Beatty movie, Shampoo, about a hairdresser who sleeps with a lot of women. I haven’t seen it, but let’s just say that it deals with either the dark underbelly of suburbia and the American Dream, or the liberation of uptight bourgeoisie women when they encounter Warren Beatty’s free spirit and rejection of cultural mores. I would imagine one or both of those would be close to the mark. Anyway, Black Shampoo uses the premise of the previous year’s hit to showcase the virility of the Black man, the White mob’s attempts to take over Black people’s businesses (again), and the utilization of gay men as comic relief.

A crew of space travelers find themselves on one of those planets where everything seems just a little too good to be true. Doesn’t that describe the plot of every other episode of every single one of the Star Trek series? In any case, in this version, an expedition crew — comprised of four women and two men — heads out from the planet Cynro toward the unexplored planet Tem 4 in response to a mysterious distress call. Due to the length of the voyage, many months have passed by the time of their arrival, at which point the conveniently humanoid inhabitants of Tem 4 claim no knowledge of the signal. Instead, the Temians go out of their way to prove to the visitors that everything is fine, just fine — super great, in fact — and, in so doing arouse the suspicions of the crew.

Paired with the really weird LSD atmosphere of the movie, the cast simply makes At the Earth’s Core a treat despite its many impossible to ignore faults. Many times, I’ve been able to dismiss a film’s short-comings and justify my adoration of it by spinning some yarn about how I saw the movie as a young boy, and blah blah blah. Not so with this one, though. I first saw At the Earth’s Core when I was in college. Realizing that I was witnessing something completely weird, I threw a tape into my VCR and recorded about 70% of the film. It became one of the most cherished gifts I ever gave my stoner buddy Ken (the other cherished gift was Young Taoism Fighter). But I can’t even play the “dude, I was so wasted” card, because I was stone cold sober at the time

1976, Italy. Starring Maurizio Merli, John Saxon, Barry Sullivan, Elio Zamuto, Maria Grazia Spina, Silvano Tranquilli, Massimo Deda, Guido Alberti, Pino Ferrara. Directed by Umberto Lenzi. Written by Vincenzo Mannino. This post brings us full circle, back to the beginning of the article and the film that sparked my initial interest in poliziottechi and the [...]

He took the classical wuxia tradition of directors like King Hu and Chang Cheh in the 1960s and revolutionized it with his eye for artistry, beauty, and frenetically paced action sequences. Without Chu Yuan, there might very well have never been a Hong Kong new wave, and the no-holds-barred swordsman pieces of the 1980s would have looked very different had it not been for Chu Yuan’s pioneering work. As an example of the director and author’s love of complicated plots and nonstop storyline twists, Magic Blade is a fine specimen. As an example of the director’s mastery of staging fast-paced, action-packed swordplay drama, Magic Blade simply cannot be beat.

Chinese Gods was the first Hong Kong cartoon I ever saw, and quite frankly, I’ve yet to fully recover. Someone took a lot of that brown acid they had at Woodstock, then dove too deep and got a nitrogen high, then sat down and made this utterly dumbfounding, totally amazing gem of a movie. I don’t even know where to begin with this one, as the size of this film’s weirdness makes it nearly impossible to get a hold of. Should I start with ancient Chinese gods and their motorcycle clouds? Or the frequent dismemberment, charring, and other acts of insane violence? How about the fact that, when all else fails, the ancient gods of China have to call on the ultimate supernatural guardian of China, Bruce Lee (sporting a cool third eye in the center of his forehead)?

It doesn’t take long for Tony to uncover the fact that his daughter and the professor were engaged in a variety of extracurricular activities in the fields of biology and human anatomy. In order to keep a scandal from ruining his reputation, Tony figured, the professor just killed the gal. It’s a pretty tenuous line of thinking, and in fact Tony has no evidence whatsoever beyond the fact that some jealous guy saw them in a mild quarrel. That doesn’t stop him from breaking into Landau’s house, roughing him up, shouting at him, accusing him in public, and generally taking the harassment to a level never before seen. The guy is, pure and simple, a grade-A prick.

While Cross Shot is not the most violent or action-packed of the many poliziotteschi film, it’s still a solid thriller with generic but interesting characters and a plot that keeps you glued to the set. You figure Antonio will probably get it in the end — those innocent youths gone wrong always do — but they make the journey there interesting, and by the end you’re hoping that maybe he’ll make it out alive after all. John Saxon is suitably grim and frustrated as the cop on the edge, though he doesn’t pull it off with as much sympathy as Maurizio Merli. Of course, no one plays that part like Merli did in Violent Napoli.

I suspect, then, that how much you enjoy a movie like Creature from Black Lake depends a lot on how you grew up and how you approach the movie today. With no frame of reference in common with the film, you can’t hope for much. The simple fear generated from saying, “Did you hear that?” while you’re sitting out in the middle of the woods isn’t something that can be explained to someone who hasn’t been there. An understanding of that sensation, of that primal sense of sudden fear that makes you peer pensively into impenetrable darkness, is integral to appreciating this type of film.