NIGHTMARE CASTLE (1965) d. Allen Grunewald aka Mario Caiano

Reviewed by Rick Trottier

It has been almost 45 years since NIGHTMARE CASTLE (aka GLI AMANTI D’OLTETOMBA) arrived on the scene and since that time much about the world has changed, mostly for the worse. As film-loving goes, one of the saddest transformations has been the disappearance of the Gothic Ghost Story from the cinematic landscape. Once upon a time, the Gothic Ghost Story was one of the most common of genre films that could be found on the Silver Screen horizon, and its moodiness and delightfully formulaic but still wildly entertaining nature made it a fan favorite for decades. As tastes shifted in the latter half of the 1970s and as those market trends accelerated throughout the 1980s, the Gothic Ghost Story began to vanish into the mists in much the same fashion as did the apparitions haunting the lavishly ornamented halls of the aristocratic manors where so many of these films were set. Whether they were laughable or lugubrious, sinister or salacious, Gothic Ghost Stories often had a little something for everyone, whether it was lovely ladies for Dad, ravishing romance for Mom, ominous spirits for junior and equestrian elements for sister. NIGHTMARE CASTLE is back in public eye again, having been marvelously restored by Severin Films. For those of us who have enjoyed this flick in the past despite its less than perfect former presentations, it is a chance to revel in the lush tapestry of sights, sounds and seductive stories that we have enjoyed before but are getting harder and harder to come by today. For those who have never seen NIGHTMARE CASTLE, it is a chance to see why Gothic Ghost Stories were a profoundly fertile field of cinema’s lost youth.

NIGHTMARE CASTLE is the story of Dr. Stephen Arrowsmith, a brilliant but sadistic scientist tormented by the infidelity of his beautiful wife Muriel. Catching Muriel in the act of betrayal, Stephen visits terrible retribution upon both Lady Arrowsmith and her lover David. After Muriel’s dispatch, Stephen must find a way to insure that Lady Arrowsmith’s fortune remains his and those plans include marrying Jenny Hampton, Muriel’s step-sister and the heir to Hampton Manor and Muriel’s riches. Weaving ever more convoluted schemes with the help of his striking house servant Solange, Stephen attempts to nudge the mentally unstable Jenny over the edge into the abyss of madness, but little does he know that for every move he makes on the chessboard of duplicity, two ghosts are several moves ahead in an attempt to exact their vengeance.

Sourced from an original Italian film print, the DVD of NIGHTMARE CASTLE has an endless number of reasons why it is a jewel to be treasured. First, it is 104 minutes long, the original uncut version of the film instead of the considerably shorter 90 minute American cut. Seeing the entire film for the first time in my life after so many other “abbreviated” screenings was a real treat, for one of the lost strengths of NIGHTMARE CASTLE was its sense of softly modulated menace built patiently and yet inexorably throughout the move. Despite a small amount of film print damage that occurs VERY infrequently at the heads and tails of the reel changes, Severin Films’ restoration and remastering of NIGHTMARE CASTLE is outstanding. For the first time, I was able to see a clear difference between the parts of the motion picture that were suppose to look misty since they were dream sequences and the rest of the movie that was meant to be clear, and how VERY clear it turned out to be! This black and white film, lit so very simply and yet set in such a stunning manner within the confines of such an exquisite Italian villa has never looked so good. The black, grays and all the shades in between are starkly crisp, clean and wonderfully sharp. Every little shadow and nuance of the lighting is thrown out in clear relief so that a textural quality emerges and one can finally appreciate the richness of the fashions, the lavishness of the décor and the opulence of the interior and exterior locations. Whether it is the sumptuousness of the Victorian-age villa’s rooms or the stately elegance of its gardens, none of the grandeur of NIGHTMARE CASTLE’s visuals truly came across until now, and it isn’t just the inanimate elements that benefit. For the first time, I could really bask in the myriad of enigmatic expressions on the lovely face of Ms. Barbara Steele (Muriel/Jenny), delight in the heart-shattering eyes of Helga Line (Solange) and be equally repulsed by the soulless countenance of Paul Muller (Stephen). The superb transfer allows the Barbara Steele fan to finally feel like they can almost glimpse the fabulous curves of Ms. Steele’s matchless figure under the gauzy glamour of her filmy peignoirs. What also comes across with so much greater impact is the simple and yet effective makeup work applied to the ghosts in this story. Most of the terror of NIGHTMARE CASTLE comes from the psychological and occult trappings of the story, but the “gore” that is woven into this rich tapestry is made all the more effective by a crisp film transfer and a professional restoration effort.

Speaking of the story, what makes NIGHTMARE CASTLE a little surprising is its mix of plot characteristics that is a bit of a Mulligan’s Stew as Gothic fare goes, but it works. There is a heady blend of ghost story and Gothic horror, but liberally applied to that core is a thick veneer of Regency Romance starkly contrasted with some Euro-sadism. As a result, there are some shocks, but they are punctuation to the long and thoughtful statements that are the atmospheric foundation of this film. There are long holds on the emotive faces of the talented and capable cast. Those poignant interactions are even more powerful when coupled with the atypical and yet still masterful score of the legendary Ennio Morricone. The camera work of NIGHTMARE CASTLE is excellent and while not ground-breaking, it is much more impressive then I had originally thought due to my past viewing experiences. We are treated to scene after scene where the skills of the actors must carry the moment, but the cinematography helps to build a detailed and wonderfully complex mosaic of sights and sounds. Now that NIGHTMARE CASTLE has been restored to its former glory and looks probably as goods as it did when it first appeared on the Silver Screen in Rome in 1965, lovers of European Gothic Ghost stories can revel in a movie that is as good an example of the genre as you are likely to find with the exception of a few iconic classics like BLACK SUNDAY or CASTLE OF BLOOD.

As Bonus Features go, the offerings on NIGHTMARE CASTLE are about average when it comes to quantity but simply OUTSTANDING when it comes to quality. First up is the prize we have all been hungering for, a 30 minute interview feature called “Barbara Steele in Conversation”. This “exclusive new featurette with the Queen of Horror” is the grail that many of her devoted fans have been awaiting for many years. This interview looks at Ms. Steele’s career from its beginnings in the late 1950s, through her glory years in Italian cinema of the 1960s and then through her later work in grindhouse flicks of the 1970s, all the way to her work as a producer in the 1980s and 1990s. Throughout her thoroughly enjoyable recollections of her film days, Ms. Steele also recounts her life experiences, reminiscences on directors and co-stars and it is all related in her delightfully dramatic vocal style. Accompanying Ms. Steele’s many anecdotes is a dizzying array of old modeling and promotional photographs and clips from her many films. For someone like me who can never get enough of this elegant and glamorous icon, I was inundated by sounds and imagery that was so multitudinous as to almost quench my thirst for such fare. Almost, but at least I can say that this may be one of the top five most exhilarating bonus features viewing experiences I’ve ever had. All praise to director David Gregory for his work on this supplement. Next is a 14 minute interview segment with director Mario Caiano called “Black, White and Red”, which is a look at Mr. Caiano’s film experiences, but unlike that of Ms. Steele, his focus tends to be more upon NIGHTMARE CASTLE. It is another excellent offering on this disc, and the two featurettes complement each other perfectly and when added to the UK and US trailers, this set of supplements is a plethora of joy to be unearthed once you’ve reveled in the feature and then are ready to bask in the extras.

My only concern when it comes to Severin Films outstanding release of NIGHTMARE CASTLE is that the audience for this motion picture may not be as sizable as it once was. The older folk like me may not be as willing to stroll down memory lane as I am and the younger folk may not see the appeal. Too many of them are beguiled by glitz and other saccharine silliness and they may not be able to appreciate the subtlety of a flick like NIGHTMARE CASTLE. I hope that such is not the case for like so many other Severin Films gems, NIGHTMARE CASTLE is a precious stone of surpassing beauty and value. As has so often happened I am both deeply impressed and even more grateful for Severin’s healthy respect for the lesser known treasures of yesteryear. For those of us who still love the Gothic Ghost Story and still swoon over Barbara Steele, NIGHTMARE CASTLE is succor for the jaded spirit.

www.severin-films.com

WHILE SHE WAS OUT (2008) d. Susan Montford

Reviewed by Rick Trottier

One of the saddest and most discouraging experiences is that of watching an actor/actress in the midst of career decline. Kim Basinger has been the centerpiece of many films that I have enjoyed over a long life of watching movies. She was so fresh, young and vulnerable in KATIE: PORTRAIT OF A CENTERFOLD (1978). In THE NATURAL(1984), she played a part that was both likable and horrifically repellant, while in 9 ½ WEEKS (1986) she sizzled in a way I wasn’t sure she be able to attain and yet after that flick, I was never able to look at her as the cute “girl next door” ever again. Even though her character wasn’t the strength of BATMAN (1989), I loved that film and still do, just as I have come to respect the film NEVER SAY NEVER AGAIN (1983) and her performance therein. Finally, there is Ms. Basinger’s opus LA CONFIDENTIAL (1997), which is likely to have been the critical peak of her career. Times have been somewhat tough for this enigmatic actress over the past decade with her much publicized tribulations with former husband Alec Baldwin, but even more trying has been her run of unimpressive cinematic efforts. Sadly, WHILE SHE WAS OUT has to be added to her growing list of disappointments. It is a movie with a few technical strengths and one moment of surprising but brief screenplay courage, but most of the rest of its runtime was horrendously substandard.

WHILE SHE WAS OUT is the story of an affluent, suburban housewife named Della who is chained to an overbearing and abusive husband in a loveless marriage. After receiving her usual salvo of nightly mistreatment, Della retreats to the mall for some last minute Christmas shopping, only to have a series of escalating and exasperating occurrences increase her aggravation. By the time she departs her consumer sanctuary, Della’s troubles have been magnified several fold as she incurs the ire of a gang of thugs bent on visiting all kinds of savagery upon her. Della is forced to call forth her own deeply seeded ferocity and emotional toughness to outlast and then dispatch her tormentors and finally make it home before Santa arrives.

I went into WHILE SHE WAS OUT deeply suspicious of its quality for a variety of reasons. I had seen the trailer on another Anchor Bay disc and found the content to be wanting. In addition, when I scanned the TV Spots and trailer in the extras before putting in the DVD as is my usual behavior, I suddenly realized that this film once had been in theaters due to its TV Spots and clearly did not receive much of a release when it came out in December of 2008. When a film comes and goes so silently without leaving so much as a ripple, that is not a good thing. Sadly, my premonitions were born out. To be fair, WHILE SHE WAS OUT does have a few praiseworthy qualities. It was competently shot and lit so that I was able to see all of the action and all of the set locations, as well as the actors. I can’t say that for many films today, whose directors have no idea how to shoot and light a film, DEATHRACE for instance, and that was a film where I WANTED to see what was going on. The acting was passable and while that is not a ringing endorsement, it should be viewed as such, for there is A LOT of bad acting out there today and it is a plague that can derail a film instantaneously. The sets and locations were simple but effective and were utilized efficiently to create a small budget look and feel that could have worked. When you look past these esoteric strengths though and delve into the core of what makes a movie, WHILE SHE WAS OUT is laced with troubles innumerable.

Many of the screenplay elements of WHILE SHE WAS OUT were often illogical, more commonly absurd and too often they were absolutely ludicrous. Let us start with the introductory segments of a film that focus on Kim Basinger’s character and her shopping needs. I found it tedious at best to watch Ms. Basinger stroll through the mall on a consuming spree, both a place and an avocation I HATE, during Christmas, a time I avoid shopping like walking over thin ice, and listlessly fingering her way through products that so many wasteful denizens of suburbia feel they “must have” to survive. As a result of this dreadful story writing mistake, I found it VERY difficult to muster any sympathy for Della, despite the reasonable logic of abuse being present as a plot device. It didn’t help that Della’s husband was not well developed and his monstrous nature seemed terribly forced. From there, things went downhill rapidly, due to the fact that the “thugs” Della faced were even more contrived. It was immediately apparent that a “Rainbow Coalition” of ethnicities had been cobbled together to give appropriate representation for each member of the gang. Next, the miscreants were a bunch of weepy, wimpy and whiny second-guessers who were ridiculously silly on occasion, miserably ineffective in polishing off Ms. Basinger in other instances and thoroughly unthreatening at all times. Lukas Haas plays the part of the ring-leader Chucky, and his bright, infectious smile and deep brown eyes make him look more like the kind-hearted outsider than a cruel psychopath. To make matters worse, the pacing of this film was unsuccessfully engineered. I will always applaud any movie that can modulate the action and plot/character development stretches so that a mostly gentle and yet occasionally sharp undulating cadence is created. In WHILE SHE WAS OUT, the plot pace peaks and valleys were so intense as to almost induce nausea. The action speeds up appropriately but then comes to a screeching halt for long and monotonous periods of time but without the payoff of learning more about the characters or seeing some dramatic interplay between cast members. The one and only exception to this occurred in the last one-fourth of the narrative when Della and Chucky seemed ready to put aside their antagonisms to form a dark-hearted alliance. At this point, my eyebrows arched, my pulse quickened and I prayed this film would take The Road Less Traveled and the two characters would end up like a warped version of “Bonnie & Clyde” or even a bizarre “Thelma & Louise” (or Louis in this case), but it was not to be. Despite my joy at the hard left turn WHILE SHE WAS OUT seemed ready to take, I was unsurprised by its lack of courage and slavish adherence to a predictable formula. Predictability was another one of the many sins this movie committed. Too often I could see what was coming miles away and that deepened my intense dislike for what WHILE SHE WAS OUT was trying NOT to achieve. Had WHILE SHE WAS OUT gone for broke in its last acts and really tried to be something other than “one sad woman’s act of defiance against male aggression” I would have possibly found reason to like it.

WHILE SHE WAS OUT has a small but reasonably enjoyable extras menu. In addition to the afore mentioned two TV Spots and theatrical trailer, there is an audio commentary with director/writer Susan Montford and producer Don Murphy and the thoughts expressed in the commentary are worth hearing. There is also a 26 minute “Making of WHILE SHE WAS OUT” that was a bit generic and too heavily slathered with film clips, but all the principle cast and crew members are a part of the interviews and their anecdotes, while unspectacular, do give one a look into the soul of this film. As is always the case, I tend to think a little better of any DVD that has bonus features of any type and after watching these supplements, my indignation towards WHILE SHE WAS OUT was diminished ever so slightly.

I grieve for the waning of Kim Basinger’s career, but sadly, such falls have happened before and will happen again. It can be hoped that sometime in the future, lightning will strike and her fortunes will be reversed. Such could not happen in the company of WHILE SHE WAS OUT, which is the antithesis of spontaneously energetic emission. WHILE SHE WAS OUT was a little more like The Void which devours all light and matter, but that may be overstating things a bit. In the end, WHILE SHE WAS OUT has almost nothing to distinguish it from so many other flicks that it is like and as a result, it will probably sink into obscurity where it belongs, but unhappily it will take a little piece of Ms. Basinger with it and for that I will mourn.

www.anchorbayentertainment.com
www.whileshewasout.com

THE SHE-BEAST (1966) d. Michael Reeves

Reviewed by Rick Trottier

Rediscovery can often be one of the most pleasurable experiences in life, especially for those of us whose days feel like they are overflowing with experiences we have already done before and don’t want to repeat. When a chance comes around to do something again and have it feel as fresh and wonderful as the first time, or maybe the moment is even better, it brings one that much closer to sartori. Dark Sky Films has brought out a totally restored transfer of THE SHE-BEAST (aka REVENGE OF THE BLOOD BEAST) that has allowed me the opportunity to fall in love all over again with a film that I have seen several times before but never in as wonderful a format as it is today.

THE SHE-BEAST is the story of a young English couple, Philip (Ian Ogilvy) and Veronica (Barbara Steele), who are traveling through Transylvania on their honeymoon when they encounter a very strange and terrifying phenomenon after a routine traffic accident. The young lovers’ car is forced off the road and lands in a small lake, but when Philip and Veronica are fished out Veronica is no longer herself but is Bardela, a satanic witch of ancient legend whose soul was confined to the depths of the lake after she was tortured to death for crimes unspeakable against the local villagers. Now distraught over the apparent loss of his wife, Philip reluctantly accepts the assistance of Count Von Helsing (Jonathan Karlsen), the modern version of his ancient, vampire-hunting ancestors. Von Helsing informs Philip that Veronica’s body and soul have been possessed by Bardela and that only through an exorcism can Philip’s beloved be returned to him. What ensues is a horrifying and terrifically madcap series of events as Count Von Helsing and Philip race against time to restore Veronica’s soul and body to its rightful place and return Bardela to the Blackness of The Void from whence she came.

Prior to this viewing, I had always enjoyed THE SHE-BEAST for its very eclectic mix of gruesome horror imagery, atmospheric storytelling about possession and witchcraft, brisk pace and thoughtfully constructed mix of exceedingly strange and wonderful doses of humor and silly hilarity and its pointed comedic commentary on communism and Eastern Bloc culture and politics. Beyond these clearly impressive points, THE SHE-BEAST drew me to it because Barbara Steele was the star and I still will see ANY motion picture that has he magnificent Ms. Steele, but there were other cast and crew reasons to like THE SHE-BEAST. A very young Ian Ogilvy began his movie career in this film, while Felini favorite Jonathan Karlsen and Corman colleague Mel Welles give exceptionally eccentric and thoroughly enjoyable performances in this flick. Young, talented and tragic director Michael Reeves made his directorial debut and his script for THE SHE-BEAST was improved upon by Charles B. Griffith, the wunderkind behind so many of Roger Corman’s numerous movies. When taken into account, all of these elements would seem to make THE SHE-BEAST have countless outstanding qualities, but the viewing copies that were available here in the United States on video and later DVD always looked as if they had been projected on a filthy burlap sack, as my friend and comrade Mark Nelson has repeatedly said. In any of its incarnations, THE SHE-BEAST was at all times miserably dark, horrendously smeary, totally lacking in color, absolutely sodden in appearance and totally unwatchable. In addition, there were always rumors and stories that the cut of THE SHE-BEAST was always incomplete and that footage had been removed for a variety of reasons. As a result, any presentation of THE SHE-BEAST was mediocre at best as the horror-wise spectator knew full-well that what they were getting wasn’t really up to snuff. All that has changed as of the re-release of this outstanding edition of THE SHE-BEAST from Dark Sky Films.

The original 35 mm film elements from which the transfer was created is pleasantly crisp, clear, colorful and glorious, making it feel like an entirely new viewing opportunity. In addition, for the first time, the actual widescreen aspect ratio has been restored as well so that we are treated to a spacious and breathtaking look at Michael Reeves film making skills which led me to a much greater respect for his directorial efforts on THE SHE-BEAST. With all the surviving footage replaced, those who have seen this film before get a chance to revel in THE SHE-BEAST really for the first time in an entirely different manner as well. The audio has been restored and is no longer muddy, and so what emerges for those of us who were too young to have seen THE SHE-BEAST when it got its theatrical release, is the best possible chance to recreate such an experience. While there are moments at the heads and tails of reel changes where a tiny amount of film damage can be noted and there are other instances of film imperfections here and there, the fact that a first-rate restoration of this lost “cult-classic” exists and has been brought to public attention must be given the highest commendations. If you have ever been a fan of Michael Reeves’ work, if you enjoy Barbara Steele’s performances, enigmatic glamour and undeniable sex appeal and want to see some surprisingly strong film making that we were never able to appreciate before, you need to pick up a copy of THE SHE-BEAST.

THE SHE-BEAST has a very small but still wonderfully rewarding set of bonus features. There is a stills gallery which is exactly what a stills gallery should be, a mix of lobby card and poster images, promotional and news photos as well as on-set photography. While not enormous, the stills gallery is still an excellent blend of color and black and white historical images. The Crown Jewel of this set of supplements is the audio commentary which features actress Barbara Steele and actor Ian Ogilvy, producer Paul Maslansky and is moderated by David Gregory. I have listened to a lot of commentaries over many years, and this will go down as one of my favorites, not the least of which is for the reason that we get to hear Ms. Steele’s reactions to seeing this film, in essence, for the first time. Not one to do interviews or commentaries much before, Ms. Steele comes into the commentary a few minutes after it begins and despite having no memory of making THE SHE-BEAST, her repartee with the voluble Mr. Ogilvy, the thoroughly reminiscent Mr. Maslansky and the diplomatic and erudite Mr. Gregory makes this a simply delightful listening experience. To FINALLY hear Barbara Steele remark about her film career and to hear it done in the context of two other men who remember well their days with Michael Reeves, Jonathan Karlsen and Mel Welles was utterly gratifying. I fully admit a deep and abiding prejudice when it comes to who talks on commentaries and to hear the utterances of veterans as opposed to younger cast and crew members is something I always prefer. For those horror fans who hunger to be immersed in anecdotes of the past delivered by some film icons of yore, this is another rationale to make certain you get your hands on THE SHE-BEAST.

I have recently rediscovered how much I love photography and am eagerly finding ways to get my eye up to a camera lens and take pictures of people and places for the first time in nearly twenty years. The indescribable joy that I feel when I create an image that I am proud of cannot be fully conveyed. Watching a motion picture that I have never really had the chance to enjoy in the manner that should have been the case may be a “one-shot” moment of pure pleasure, but in some ways it is just as fulfilling. Had Dark Sky Films never gone to the lengths that they did to restore this lost gem to us, I wouldn’t have had this occasion, and as we all know as each year passes, these chances slip beyond our grasp, never to be recalled. If you are a devotee of European horror films from the 1960s and want to immerse yourself in the mood and texture of cinema that has long since ceased to be made, this is another invaluable chance. Don’t let it pass you by.

www.darkskyfilms.com

THE CENTERFOLD GIRLS (1974) d. John Peyser

Reviewed by Rick Trottier

The plight of women in motion pictures has long been a complex and very rocky ride. During the early years of the Silver Screen, actresses often played roles that reflected the socially stultifying climate of the times and helpless Scream Queens like Faye Wray dominated the cinematic landscape. As the middle part of the 20th Century dawned, the so-called New Women birthed in the generation after the Suffrage Movement tended to be somewhat pluckier and a little bit more uninhibited, but women still tended to play very idealized parts and were icons of male fantasy, reaching that height of excess in the 1950s. By the 1960s and 1970s, the portrayal of female characters by young actresses became truly complex. On one hand, mainstream film began depicting women in a somewhat more realistic and less chauvinistic manner as the Women’s Movement began to gain momentum. At the same time, exploitation cinema reached the apex of its gaudy pinnacle during that same era, putting young, attractive “actresses” and starlets into some of the most sexist roles ever penned by sleazy skin merchants and the pioneers of softcore entertainment. To be an actress in the late 1960s, throughout the 1970s and into the early 1980s meant you were going to appear nude on screen, there would likely be at least one sex scene in addition to the obligatory “shower” scene or clip where disrobing was necessary. If you were appearing in a genre film, there was also a high probability that young actresses would be appearing unclad amidst scenes of violence, gore, depravity or some other cinematic instance of titillation designed to put men into movie theater seats. From 1965 to the dawn of the Video Age around 1980, scads of naked girls engaging all manner of wayward behavior could be seen in movie houses where exploitation fare was run. This incredibly bizarre dichotomy of mainstream film uplifting the station of women even as B-movies were objectifying women more aggressively than ever is one of the most fascinating components of the modern era of Motion Picture History, and THE CENTERFOLD GIRLS is one of the best examples of seedy, skintastic, scurrilous and sensually scandalous movie-making from those long lost days.

THE CENTERFOLD GIRLS is the three-part story of a small group of beautiful young women from all walks of life who have posed nude in a men’s magazine called Bachelor and are now receiving unwanted and frightening attention from a sexually frustrated and demented serial killer named Clement Dunne, played by Andrew Prine. Dark, dorky and driven, Mr. Dunne hunts down these lovely ladies in a series of vignettes stitched together by the killer’s overarching lust to “help” these young ladies out of their state of fallen grace and into everlasting peace through the use of a lethally sharp straight razor. Jackie (Jamie Lyn Bauer), Charly (Jennifer Ashley) and Vera (Tiffany Bolling) must evade Clement’s foul interest if they are to stay in one piece and not end up sliced to ribbons.

THE CENTERFOLD GIRLS was one of the guiltier pleasures of many exploitation film enthusiasts back in the days when all kinds of wicked flicks made their way to the corner video store and were readily available. The problem was that the joy was moderated by the knowledge of the cost at which it had been purchased, an exceedingly low quality visual experience due to poor film transfers onto muddy-looking video tape. While the story and the content of movies like THE CENTERFOLD GIRLS was enticing and those flicks delivered the goods, the multitudinous moments of cinematic confusion due to the dark and washed out appearance of the vast majority of sequences made many a viewing a mixed bag, and THE CENTERFOLD GIRLS was once no exception. That is no longer the case thanks to Dark Sky Films. While their restoration of THE CENTERFOLD GIRLS is not the near miracle of their other recent release, THE SHE-BEAST, the improvement of the video elements of THE CENTERFOLD GIRLS is a measurable step upwards and for that we should be thankful. The colors are clearly brighter and sharper and that is of great benefit when one considers how stylishly shot and set THE CENTERFOLD GIRLS was for being a low-budget effort. All of the images are crisper and lighter, allowing the knowledgeable viewer to bask in the salacious grandeur of this film. However, there are still problems with the visual aspects of THE CENTERFOLD GIRLS. There is a graininess to the imagery and an aura that feels as if a soft-focus filter had been utilized throughout much of the first half of the picture. The opening credits and initial frames evidence some print damage and the hues are not as blazing as some restorations I have seen. Whether this is due to the restorers not being able to go back to the negative as a source, the source print having some damage or maybe THE CENTERFOLD GIRLS was shot using some inferior technology and materials, is not entirely clear. What is evident is that THE CENTERFOLD GIRLS looks better than it once did, it sounds good and is a strong step up from its former days of faded glory.

The improved condition of the visual elements of THE CENTERFOLD GIRLS allows the exploitation connoisseur to revel in a seemingly incompatible split-personality in this motion picture. On the one hand, from the opening frames until almost the closing credits, THE CENTERFOLD GIRLS is filled to the brim with beautiful, naked young actresses in all manner of disrobed splendor. Whether you are looking for trim and athletic, curvaceous and comely or angular and austere, the fabulous figures of the female cast are fleshed out in miles of coppery-toned swaths of skin. In the case of Jamie Lyn Bauer’s character Jackie, she spends a series of scenes pulling her clothes off and then putting them back on as if the director kept saying out loud, “thank you, that was an excellent take” and then the devil sitting on his shoulder whispered “make her do it again and keep that damn camera rolling every second you sackless weenie!” Back Miss Bauer went for another nude scene and it is the viewer who won that exchange hands down. At the same time that we are treated to scads of scantily-clad sex objects, there is a surprisingly impressive pair of visual strengths to THE CENTERFOLD GIRLS that one might not expect seeing that it is an American exploitation film. European sex-epochs like THE SISTER OF URSULA were well-known for their brazen mix of sin and style, but THE CENTERFOLD GIRLS is nearly able to match the glorious beauty of some of its European cousins. Shot in and around the coast and islands of southern and central California, the exterior settings and the colors of earth, surf and sky are quite impressive and only matched by the modish and seductive beauty of the interior scenery that was so very typical of the free and easy lifestyle of 1970s coastal California. Using compelling camera angles and lighting techniques, the cinematography is competent and even occasionally impressive. There is even more. When added to the sexy, chic and creative fashions that dominated the costume choices for THE CENTERFOLD GIRLS, there is a lot to please the eye beyond the lascivious loveliness of the starlets of this film.

It is hard to imagine that THE CENTERFOLD GIRLS would also work on an intellectual or artistic level, but it does. The tripartite story line held together by Andrew Prine’s character and dark and dastardly performance is both novel in its conception and effective in its execution. By moving from the tale of one girl to the next and shifting setting ever so slightly, a brisk pace is maintained and what could have been a tedious and repetitive slasher film narrative structure was avoided. Liberally mixed with the general account of a sadistic murderer stalking delicious young lovelies are dollops of the “now generation” and their excesses of drinking, sex and the swinging lifestyle so very filled with paltry pleasure, obnoxious ostentation and cynical self-indulgence. What emerges is a startling abstract painting of why the early and mid-70s was, like cotton candy, a lot of fun to experience briefly but a fairly vacuous delight that brought no real benefit and some clearly deleterious after effects. Adding to the depth of this film is a cast of performers that are non-t00-well-known to most young people today, but for those of us who remember the skilled thespians of yesteryear, their presence is one of the many reasons to relish THE CENTERFOLD GIRLS’ dvd release. Andrew Prine steals the show with his somber garb, understated portrayal and yet horrifically threatening and disturbingly efficient dispatch of the sinful sluts he wishes he could despoil. Only a few ticks down on the deplorable meter is the character played by the venerable Aldo Ray, a sneering and ogling Neanderthal wrapped in an all-American father gauze that makes him even more miserably misogynistic. Francine York and Ray Danton give excellent supporting performances as the warring couple whose wealth and influence have lead them to heights of success and are in the path of a slayer who would just as soon send them to oblivion for their calculating and corrupt misuse of their positions. There aren’t a lot of exploitation films worth watching where you can say that an extensive and impressive cast of experienced actors were brought together to create a motion picture that is lurid as well as likable in a manner most people would never dare admit.

THE CENTERFOLD GIRLS has a moderately sized bonus features menu that has some unexpected splendors waiting to be unearthed. In lieu of an audio commentary, there is a 15 minute mini-documentary called “Making the Cut” which is a retrospective of THE CENTERFOLD GIRLS. Including a very short clip with producer Arthur Marks and much more sizable interviews and anecdotes with Andrew Prine, Francine York and Jennifer Ashley, this featurette is thoroughly pleasant for its frank recollections, thoughtfully earnest reminiscences and eclectic blend of film clips, voice-overs and modern footage. It is the brightest jewel in the treasure chest, but the other precious stones are worthy of your attention. There is an exhaustive musical supplement called “Select Music Cues” that is a series of 18 film score tracks, forever documenting the often overlooked strength of THE CENTERFOLD GIRLS, it hypnotic soundtrack, which is very diverse in style and substance. Finally, there are two trailers (red band and green band), two TV spots and a radio spot, all of which are startlingly different from each other, which was rarely typical when it came to 1970s promotional advertising. Overall, the extras section of THE CENTERFOLD GIRLS was like the makeup on a nude model, you don’t often realize how essential it really is since your eyes are drawn elsewhere, but you are very glad that it was included.

THE CENTERFOLD GIRLS is not the finest release of a sordid classic of yore, nor is it the most impressive, but I am exceptionally glad that it exists. Just as when Dark Sky Films brought out SIMON, KING OF THE WITCHES last year, this is a splendid little gem that looks back on a vanished time and THE CENTERFOLD GIRLS is a film that is just not being made anymore today. The mix of taboo sleaziness and sophisticated squalor is a guilty pleasure for those of us who watched the hordes of imbeciles who tried to dismember sincerity during the height of political correctness movement of the 1990s. There is nothing diplomatic about THE CENTERFOLD GIRLS, neither is it illuminating or uplifting. It is sheer naughtiness for naughtiness sake.

www.darkskyfilms.com

THE HAIRDRESSER’S HUSBAND (1990) d. Patrice Leconte

Reviewed by Rick Trottier

We have many powerful memories of our youthful years, some of which revolve around family, the holidays, special occasions and occasionally frightening experiences. There are few people who aren’t willing to admit that love and passion are certainly some of the strongest of our distant recollections. The first time you fall in love absolutely, surrender yourself to all-consuming passion and realize that you have been changed irrevocably must rank as one of the most deeply-seeded impressions in both the mind and the heart. When the memory of childhood first love and attraction is also exceedingly similar to the adult incident of finding the “love of your life”, even if the two are not the same person, then the reminiscences must then be especially poignant. THE HAIRDRESSER’S HUSBAND (LE MARI DE LA COIFFEUSE) is a deeply atypical offering from the fine people at Severin Films that instead of focusing on wildly exotic sex and beautiful naked female forms, it puts erotic attraction in the most appropriate of contexts, that of the beauty of simple but overwhelming passionate love for a person with whom you are best suited to create happiness for as long as God provides the opportunity. A tale that mirrors so many of the quirks, charms, joys and sorrows of life, THE HAIRDRESSER’S HUSBAND is the kind of movie that should touch anyone who knows the all-consuming elation of falling in love, the incandescent flame of passion and the briefness of happiness and life here on this Mortal Plane of Existence.

THE HAIRDRESSER’S HUSBAND is the story of Antoine, a middle-aged man looking back on a life that has been shaped by a desire to get exactly what he most wants, love and ardent physical pleasure at the hands of a striking female hairdresser. At the tender age of 12, Antoine first experiences intense infatuation for a buxom and redheaded hairdresser, whom Antoine eventually becomes obsessed with and goes to for haircut after haircut, even when there is no need. The incredible delight and emotional satisfaction that Antoine experiences helps to crystallize in his soul the need to have just such a woman when he is a grown man. Many years later, a lovely young woman named Mathilde takes over Isidore’s barbershop and Antoine makes a dedicated but somewhat awkward effort to woo her. Despite his affectionate clumsiness, Antoine succeeds and what follows is ten years of wedded bliss as Mathilde and Antoine’s lives twine about the most beautiful of simplicities, the need of one person for another and the ability of each to fulfill the deepest of those needs, both spiritual and physical.

THE HAIRDRESSER’S HUSBAND is that best of French cinema that combines a light-hearted sense of fun, exceedingly simplistic and yet engaging story lines, appealing characters, some moments of serious reflection and societal criticism as well as fine performances and attractive to photography, to end up as an entertaining, thoughtful and surprisingly intricate short tale of romance, friendship and the inescapability of sadness and the ending of joy. What sets THE HAIRDRESSER’S HUSBAND apart to some degree from most French films I have seen is its relatively short runtime of 82 minutes, a pace that, while not brisk, is not the curvilinear path that most Gallic cinema takes and its absolutely marvelous mix of charisma, eccentric moments and portrayals mixed with some superbly melancholy punctuations to its overall statement. Much like another French favorite of mine, BETTY BLUE, THE HAIRDRESSER’S HUSBAND takes a couple, puts them into situations where we see the growth of their emotional and physical attraction and later commitment to each other, but then that is juxtaposed with the overmastering cruelties of life like aging, tragedy and change. What makes THE HAIRDRESSER’S HUSBAND that much better is the untroubled beauty of the love of Antoine and Mathilde for each other, the exquisiteness of their uncomplicated existence as they move through their daily routines and yet make each person the pinnacle of existence and the reason for their continued happiness. Both Antoine and Mathilde are portrayed in a down-to-earth and yet adorably sophisticated manner by Jean Rochefort and Anna Galiena. From their facial expressions to their gentle caresses to the gleam in each others’ eyes, THE HAIRDRESSER’S HUSBAND captures the very essence of what the most rewarding love should be like.

Throughout THE HAIRDRESSER’S HUSBAND, there is a mix of visual and auditory beauty that also leaves the viewer with the knowledge that they are watching something special. There is a softly modulated sense of color that feels like the entire film is seen through the filter of memory which adds an entire layer of emotional impact. All of the colors are bright and striking, but they do not blaze. It is as if we are seeing this film though a gentle midsummer’s haze that mimics the mistiness of the mind’s eye. In addition, THE HAIRDRESSER’S HUSBAND is attractive in many other fashions, like how marvelously wide and patiently photographed each seen is. We linger on images just long enough to allow them to sink into our psyche and be captured by our eyes forever. There is a fascinating dichotomy that I have experienced in European film many times over the years that is thickly strewn over the visual elements of THE HAIRDRESSER’S HUSBAND. The women in this film are lovingly shot in such a way as to pay lasting tribute to the glory of the female face and figure, but it is done without licentiousness or frivolity. Just as the Baroque and Rococo painters of long ago created paeans to the rich landscapes of the womanly form, director Patrice Leconte allows us to bask in the heady comeliness of the faces and figures of the actresses of THE HAIRDRESSER’S HUSBAND. When coupled with the deeply amorous “sex” scenes and the frank and boldly erotic voice-overs of Antoine as a man, the result is quite potent, especially when one considers there is no nudity in this movie. Typical of so many European films, THE HAIRDRESSER’S HUSBAND does not have to have a lot of skin to be incredibly sexy. It is all about playing on our emotions, tugging at the heart strings and making the brow just a bit damp with perspiration after your internal temperature has climbed. THE HAIRDRESSER’S HUSBAND takes you on a ride that is just as intense as the first time you rode a bike. Even though that first dash across the street was relatively short, all of the shapes and colors of that day became etched in your brain along with the exhilarating feelings of speed and freedom that have never been equaled since. Like BETTY BLUE, THE HAIRDRESSER’S HUSBAND starts one way, develops along some lines that suggest one direction for the film, it goes another way much to our satisfaction and then it ends at a place we really didn’t want to go, but that’s tough because that is life. Even though the romance of these two characters is idealized and straight out of fantasy, the pattern of their days is a mirror for what our existence often is and this is all presented in a visual form and with delightful musical accompaniment that feels like a daydream or a memory turned loose one lazy summer’s afternoon when you are tripping down the avenues of your mind and let one of those recollections free that has been deeply buried for a long time. Those moments don’t happen often, but like a fine film they are deeply intoxicating when they do.

THE HAIRDRESSER’S HUSBAND has a small but splendid set of Bonus Features. In addition, to the Theatrical Trailer, there is a 36 minute mini-feature called “Leconte on Leconte-Part 1” (Part 2 is to be found on the Severin dvd PERFUME OF YVONNE) which is a fabulous conversation with the director about his film making past and his remembrances of THE HAIRDRESSER’S HUSBAND. After that, there is a 17 minute featurette called “The Hairdresser’s Recollections” which sits down with Italian actress Anna Galiena and explores how she came to be connected with this project and her memories of THE HAIRDRESSER’S HUSBAND. Beyond doing a fabulous job bringing this film to us looking outstanding even though it isn’t “that old”, Severin Films did its usual yeoman work of creating compelling and contemplative supplements that a film-lover can just revel in and appreciate greatly. To hear a director and an actress express their deepest feeling about THE HAIRDRESSER’S HUSBAND, both of whom were emotionally attached to the making of this movie, is supremely enjoyable. Great praise must once again be given to Severin Films for their impressive efforts.

One of the few pleasant aspects of aging is the ability to look back over the years and truly understand what you have done right, what decisions were mistakes, how you should have shaped your course and what the impact of your actions has been on the days through which you pass at that moment. THE HAIRDRESSER’S HUSBAND is the kind of film that all kinds of movie-goers may enjoy if they are over the age of 18, but that you will truly appreciate if you are much older than that. It is a film that speaks to the timeless allure of romance, the power of desire and the ineffable sorrow of the ending of joy. While most people picking up Severin Films discs might be expecting a Jess Franco film or something along those lines, I am impressed with the people at Severin for distributing something a little out of their usual field of dreams. One can’t always watch horror and exploitation fare and branching out can bring rewards, just as this did for me.

www.severin-films.com

A POLICEWOMAN IN NEW YORK (1981) d. Michele Massimo Tarantini

Reviewed by Rick Trottier

Male movie enthusiasts may enjoy watching action, war and/or horror films and delight to the exploits of masculine cinematic icons like John Wayne, Steve McQueen and Lee Marvin, but almost every man will admit a profound appreciation for the mesmeric faces and even more enthralling figures of actresses spanning decades of motion picture history. As a boy, I was transfixed by the loveliness of Susan Hayward and Debra Paget and as I got older I grew to esteem the undeniable appeal of Luciana Paluzzi and Barbara Steele. While these women are still the pinnacle of glamour and beauty in my opinion, as all men should, we allow our tastes to evolve and sharpen as we age. One of the more uncommon and yet just as exciting beauties I have come to appreciate over the past fifteen years has been that of the French actress Edwige Fenech, best known for her seductive and ethereal roles in giallo films like ALL THE COLORS OF THE DARK, THE STRANGE VICE OF MRS. WARDH and FIVE DOLLS FOR AN AUGUST MOON. Throughout her long and splendid career, Ms. Fenech made a name for herself by becoming a very capable actress able to project otherworldliness and vulnerability in her dramas, fun and frolic in her comedies and wildly engaging sensuality in her sexcapades, while all the while having one of the most beautiful faces and stunning figures in the record of the Silver Screen. A striking brunette with long and luxuriant locks who often affected auburn hair too, Ms. Fenech could wear just about any garment and with that set of dazzling measurements make herself look outrageously desirable. A POLICEWOMAN IN NEW YORK (LA POLIZIOTTA a NEW YORK) was one of Edwige Fenech’s wacky comedies made toward the end of her greatest run of success before she took some time off from movie making in the mid-1980s. While not the wild ride of a Terence Hill and Bud Spencer flick or even as entertaining as her mid-1970s romp GIOVANNA LONG THIGH, A POLICEWOMAN IN NEW YORK is still an Italian slapstick lover’s dream made all the more interesting by one of the world’s most enduring icons of allure.

A POLICEWOMAN IN NEW YORK is the story of Italian detective Gianna and her partner Alvaro, who are recruited for a special mission. New York Mob Boss “Big John” has a girlfriend named “Pupa” and a thug named “Don’t Tread on Me” who look suspiciously like Gianna and Alvaro. The plan is to replace Pupa and her bodyguard with the police operatives in an attempt to infiltrate “Big John’s” house and find incontestable evidence that will incriminate him so that he can be locked up permanently. What ensues is a comedy of errors as warring crime lords and their henchmen stumble over police officers working with Gianna and Alvaro in the attempt to emerge ludicrously supreme. As Gianna and Alvaro snake their way through “Big John’s” daily routine, Gianna comes to learn how to blend her brassy and big-fisted style with hypnotic feminine wiles to get her man. By the end, a series of airplane antics and car chases are needed to bring the criminals to justice and Gianna ends up being the heroine.

Overall, there is a lot to like about A POLICEWOMAN IN NEW YORK. The only true detracting issues that I found was that the dialogue is only accessible in either an English dubbed language track or Italian version WITHOUT English subtitles. While I always prefer to hear that original tongue of a film and read the subtitles, my Italian is rather poor and since I wanted to know what was happening in the story, I suffered through the dubbed language track. In addition, the film print and/or the transfer was generally pretty good, but I did detect a small amount of graininess at the very beginning and the end of the film. Most of the rest of the time, the only reason the picture was not as sharp and crisp as it could have been was the use of somewhat soft focus as a directorial strategy, which was not uncommon in the early 1980s or in dealing with any icon of female beauty throughout cinema’s glorious past. Other than these two problems, A POLICEWOMAN IN NEW YORK was a joy to experience.

Loaded to the brim with silly expressions, dynamic overacting, rapid fire dialogue and piles of physical and sexual humor, A POLICEWOMAN IN NEW YORK is truly a throwback to another time in film making. I saw more faces slapped and other punches or pugilistic comedy in A POLICEWOMAN IN NEW YORK than I have in some time. The absolutely foolish facial contortions of many of the characters was deeply reminiscent of old Vaudeville acts and when blended with the “Big-Band” inspired title music, it made A POLICEWOMAN IN NEW YORK feel older than it really was. That illusion was deepened by the good-natured and light-hearted elements of the sexual humor. As a policewoman undercover, Edwige Fenech’s character Gianna is constantly exposed to the randy and amorous attentions of the competing mob bosses who fall victim to her vibrant female charms and who she must consistently fend off to preserve her professional integrity and personal honor. The antics of the mob bosses themselves and their ridiculous clowning feels like a European version of The Three Stooges at times and when blended with the overblown foley effects, there is a delightfully cartoonish quality to A POLICEWOMAN IN NEW YORK that is reminiscent of an old TerryToons cartoon short. The plot itself is not terribly creative but it doesn’t have to be. A POLICEWOMAN IN NEW YORK is about hi-jinks and is also a vehicle for selling the most desirable commodity there has ever been, a spectacularly beautiful actress.

At the same time that the fantasy of Golden Age Film is being created, there is plenty of modern glamor and sex appeal layered onto this flick. The incidental music has a video game parlor feel to it and when combined with the gaudy, goofy and occasionally tacky early 1980s attire, there is a lot of sprightly silliness to A POLICEWOMAN IN NEW YORK. What adds an entire level of adolescent appeal is that for the duration of the film, Edwige Fenech is paraded about in form fitting fashions that are wonderfully revealing, supremely saucy and are also the best eye candy that a self-respecting gentleman can find. Sprinkled like sesame seeds over rice balls, there are delectable leg shots, deep-breath inducing cleavage peeks and collar stretching derriere doings of the lovely Ms. Fenech that will simply captivate any of her devotees. Known for her legendary proclivity to take her clothes off in the vast majority of her movies, Ms. Fenech is a little more circumspect in A POLICEWOMAN IN NEW YORK. There is only one topless scene where her curvaceous glory is displayed for all to enjoy. In A POLICEWOMAN IN NEW YORK, the rest of the thrills are a little more “old school” and do not need the permission of your parents. Instead, this feels like an Italian version of a Benny Hill sketch and with Edwige Fenech’s vastly underrated acting skills, you actually get a slightly more impressive product. You may not have the consummate talents of Mr. Benny Hill, but you have the enigmatic charm and sex appeal of Ms. Edwige Fenech.

There is a small extras menu on the dvd of A POLICEWOMAN IN NEW YORK, which was a bit of a surprise for this none-too-well-known Italian comedy. There is the original Italian trailer, and like the feature film it does not have subtitles. However, it is in its original condition, which allows the viewer to bask in the yeoman efforts of MYA Communications when it comes to restoring the main feature. There is also a pleasantly stocked image Gallery that contains a series of foreign film poster jpegs and a larger collection of German promotional images. For fans of Edwige Fenech, this small but enjoyable collection of supplements is a boon that was totally unexpected.

As we age, one of the most enduring joys is the ability to take pleasure in great beauty. Not only is A POLICEWOMAN IN NEW YORK simply dripping in the loveliness of Edwige Fenech, it is also a wacky comedy that has its heart in the right place and should bring forth some smiles and laughs from most ages and stations in life. If you’ve been hungering for a comedy that has its roots the deeper past and that stars an actress who I would have bought every pinup poster I could have laid hands on had they available, then A POLICEWOMAN IN NEW YORK is what should go into your dvd player next time you have a chance. Make sure you’ve taken your heart medication and have a window open to cool off the room and get some much needed fresh air. Ms. Fenech will cause your internal temperature to rise a few points and simultaneously make you feel like a teenager all over again.

http://www.rykodistribution.com/genericq.asp?module_map_id=1234&view=albumprofile&item_number=MYA 201009 DV

STREET WARRIOR (2008) d. David Jackson

Reviewed by Rick Trottier

Something doesn’t have to be new or even look all that pretty in appearance to be pleasurable. Not too far from where I grew up was an old, somewhat rundown amusement park that had all kinds of aged, rather battered-looking rides, a lot of tired and used but still enjoyably kitschy games and contests and a venerable and rickety-looking, but still thrilling wooden roller coaster. While Whalom Park may not have been as large and diverse as Riverside or as glamorous as Canobie Lake, I still loved it, for the entertainment value of a day spent there was still high despite the fact that it appeared as if Whalom Park had seen better days, as indeed it had. While I have little but absolute contempt for the way many modern action films are shot and edited, they can still be a thrill ride even when the high-octane scenes don’t deliver on the visual appeal in the fashion that they should. STREET WARRIOR, starring Max Martini, Nick Chinlund and Valerie Cruz does not look like ENTER THE DRAGON, but it doesn’t have to when it provides the joy of a story, some eccentric performances and steady, high intensity pacing that feels like you’ve crossed Jackie Chan’s WHEELS ON MEALS with Hulk Hogan’s NO HOLDS BARRED.

STREET WARRIOR is the story of Jack Campbell (played by Max Martini), a tough and principled war hero whose high ideals landed him in military prison and disgrace. After his release, Jack returns home to find his younger brother in a coma after battling for his life in a squalid and brutal fight club called The Gauntlet. Jack begins a violent and bloody search for the people who maimed his brother, but on each step along his path, Jack is outmaneuvered by Mr. Pope (played by Nick Chinlund) and his lovely assistant, Ms. Lee (Jane Park Smith). Mr. Pope, the showman and manager of The Gauntlet, manipulates Jack into fighting in his gory sideshow using the safety of Jack’s abducted and pregnant sister-in-law Sarah as insurance. With the help of attractive convenience store owner Maggie Kuerner (played by Valerie Cruz) and the sleazy nightclub owner George Bautista (Max Perlich), Jack is able to muster enough strength and guts to take on Mr. Pope and his legion of fighters in an attempt to exact vengeance and get justice for all.

There is absolutely nothing original about STREET WARRIOR when it comes to the plot, the character sketches, the action scenes and all the other components of this film except for the modern methods of cinematography and editing, and in the end it is those original elements that are the one and only failure. STREET WARRIOR borrows ideas from just about every single “good man takes on the corrupt monsters” story that has ever been created and then grafts those narrative ideas to professional wrestling and REVENGE OF THE NINJA-inspired fighter caricatures to create a very cartoon-ish but still wildly entertaining yarn about an archetype of good battling for his life and those of the people he cares for against an archetype of evil who is as crooked and loathsome as he can possibly get. The story is almost perfectly paced for there are long stretches of high testosterone fight sequences in the arena, in bars, in offices and in mini-marts. While those moments of intense fisticuffs dominate the storyline, there are also well-crafted and skillfully sculpted dramatic moments that trade on some of the oldest takes on the “hero saga” that exist like “people being used by a powerful and abusive Money Man”, “the inner strength of the hero is sustained by helping others and the love of a good woman”, “the turns of conscience of The Controlled occur after hearing The Word of Our Hero” and SO MANY others. Throughout this already clichéd and yet still smile-inducing lineup are frequent doses of lovely, scantily clad and/or nude and incredibly sexy women as well as trite, witty and wonderful one-liners from each and every character. There are times that STREET FIGHTER feels so very much like all the Bruce Willis, Arnold Schwarzenegger, Michael Dudikoff and Jean-Claude Van Damme films I’ve ever seen that I felt like it almost could have been a retrospective, but that is where the acting and character development pieces come in.

The people who cast STREET WARRIOR should be given a medal, only to be surpassed by the screen writers who created the characters who deserve a Loving Cup. The principal actors, Max Martini, Nick Chinlund and Valerie Cruz were perfectly chosen for their roles, their portrayals of their characters who dead-on perfect and it doesn’t hurt to notice that these three are veteran performers with long resumes of TV episodes, small films and other TV Movies in their acting past that helped prepare them for roles that would need some skill to make them work. Mr. Martini plays the part of Jack exactly like every 80s tough guy that ever clenched a fist. Jack is whispery and gravel-voiced, stone faced and implacably tough as well as a man with a silver lining so spotless that he would do ANYTHING to do the right thing. He faces off against Nick Chinlund’s Mr. Pope who is played like an even more sinister Vince McMahon of the WWE, but with so much over over-the-top panache and all kinds of carnival barker glitz and snake oil salesman grotesqueness that he comes close to over doing it, but not quite. There is a fine line between over-acting and putting on a show that is just wonderfully silly and more fun than a barrel of monkeys. Nick Chinlund gives us a man to hate, a sleaze-ball who you half-way cheer for since he is so very amusing. Then there is Valerie Cruz, whose character of Maggie is in some ways the most difficult to play because she can’t steal the thunder of either of the men, but she still has to radiate toughness, exude caring and concern and just ooze sweetness AND sex appeal but without overshadowing Jane Park Smith’s Ms. Lee or all the other luscious beauties paraded about STREET WARRIOR. Somehow, Ms. Cruz hits the gold in the bulls-eye without fail and she completes the triad of main characters brilliantly. When added to the Michael Vick-inspired betting and adrenaline machine of Omar, the skuzzy and yet lovable George and the nefarious tub of lard known as Sheriff Watkins, every character archetype imaginable is dredged up and used flawlessly in STREET WARRIOR. Then, there is the ace in the hole, the fighters themselves, like Roland Kickinger’s “The Showman”, Gary Kaspar’s maniacal neo-Nazi “Baldus”, Danny Arroyo’s high-flying Latino battler known as “Santo” (possibly the closest we’ll ever get to the live-action version of the DC dorky-villain Batroc the Leaper), and a colorful and ridiculous array of others replete with silly and serious fighting techniques, foolish faces and buffoon-ish battle cries, as well as kooky costumes. There is a lot to like about the way this film was scripted, structured and set down for our enjoyment. Even the music was mostly high-energy but not overwhelming, but often interspersed with emotive and soul-stirring strains, all of which were able to add layers of simple “stimulus-response” to this classic brand of cinematic beef stew.

The only problem with STREET WARRIOR was how it was shot during most of the fight sequences, how those fight scenes were edited and occasionally augmented with “effects” and how even here and there those baleful influences could be seen during dramatic stretches of the film, but fortunately not too often. Even then though, there were times when close-ups were too close and stitched together in awkward and ineffective ways. I am sure that the film makers would have said a great deal on a commentary (had there BEEN a commentary) about how “this is the way to do things for the movie lovers of today” and I am sure that they may be right or at least have a point. So many of the younger set have been raised on video games, music television and all kinds of other confusion-inducing visual chicanery that they are thoroughly fooled by these kinds of film-making techniques, but not me. I wanted to really be able to see the action and have it shot like the Hong Kong films of yore or the Thai films of today. Had STREET WARRIOR had maintained its comic-book charming story and looked like CHOCOLATE or ONG-BAK, this could have become an instant classic of the “big, dumb action” film genre and taken its idiotic place alongside COBRA or COMMANDO, even though they are different kinds of films. The spirit of STREET WARRIOR is still the same. Sadly, it was not to be and the poor choices of the director and his photography crew keep this movie from being as much fun as it should have been.

The other major deficiency of STREET WARRRIOR is just that, it is lacking something, BONUS FEATURES! I suppose I should be thankful that I got to see stereotypical fighters battling each other surrounded by a bevy of beauties, many of which were naked throughout their scenes, but I still feel like I have been robbed to a small degree. When you’ve got a director like David Jackson who has worked on TV Shows like “Swamp Thing”, “Lois & Clark”, “Nash Bridges” and “Smallville” as well as many other projects of the television and movie kind, he must have some things to say. There is a veteran cast of actors who would have also been worthwhile to interview or hit up for a commentary. There is a smorgasbord of unsettlingly attractive women who would have been perfect for some kind of wacky extra like “strip cinema-trivial pursuit” or something like that. Make something up folks! I recently watched a disc with a “faux-extra” that was a great way to end my viewing experience. Since my eyes were not fully satisfied with the action scenes in STREET WARRIOR, the best way to “bait and switch” is do something salaciously gratuitous in the supplements. Why RHI-TV still doesn’t get that is totally beyond me. All I got for “extras” on this DVD were three auto-play trailers I had already seen. Not smart guys!

If you can look past the way STREET WARRIOR was shot and you hunger for the action flicks of yesterday that had a “feel good” ending that you can see coming miles away as well as loads of caricatures and comics/cartoon-inspired goodies and baddies, you’ll probably like STREET WARRIOR a lot. I know that I went into this film expecting almost nothing and got a pleasant surprise. However, on reflection, I shouldn’t have been shocked or even startled. There is something about fighting that we can’t give up as a species no matter how hard we try civilizing ourselves. There is something about “the hero tale” that never gets old no matter how many times we’ve seen it. Just like Whalom Park, which changed very little over the nearly thirty years that I went back to it again and again, there is something about a comfortably entertaining option that may not be the most glamorous of thrills, but we’ll take it. If that is the kind of Saturday afternoon viewing experience you want to have, then STREET WARRIOR is probably your cup of tea.

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