EUROCRIME RARITIES: VOLUME 1 - BLU-RAY REVIEW

Following the runaway success of William Friedkin’s THE FRENCH CONNECTION (1971) and Don Siegel’s DIRTY HARRY (1971), it didn’t take long for Italy to begin producing countless imitations. With their distinctly anarchic tone and scenes of gritty violence, many of these homegrown pictures also reflected the societal ills and political climate in Italy at the time (a timeframe that became known as anni di piombo or the Years of Lead) while blazing a trail towards a new kind of filmmaking during the ’70s. Commonly referred to as polizieschi, landmark films such as Stefano Vanzina’s THE EXECUTION SQUAD (1971), Enzo G. Castellari’s HIGH CRIME (1973) and Umberto Lenzi’s undisputed action classic THE TOUGH ONES (1976) are just a few of the titles that, if mentioned today, are usually synonymous with briskly-paced action and some effectively disturbing violence. But, as with any filmmaking trend in Italy, this surge in popularity quickly resulted in several films which were wildly diverse in genre and tone, not unlike the films included in Vinegar Syndrome Labs’ first volume of EUROCRIME RARITIES.

 

In the noir-inspired DAY OF THE COBRA (1980), the film marked the sixth time director Enzo G. Castellari had the satisfaction of working with Franco Nero. Better known under his serpentine namesake, “The Cobra,” Nero plays Larry Stanziani, a disgraced narcotics agent who was framed by powerful bureaucrats and jailed for three years. While struggling to earn his keep as a second-rate PI in San Francisco, Stanziani is approached by his old narcotics bureau chief Goldschmidt (Willam Berger) with an offer to crack an important case in Genoa, Italy involving his old nemesis Serge Kandinsky, a club-footed international drug-smuggler with a stiletto swordstick and shadowy identity (“He’s a homosexual. The worst kind. Violent.”). But when Kandinsky is murdered, Stanziani must track down the bigshots behind the lucrative heroin syndicate, which includes locating a key to an elusive safety deposit box containing a list of all the dealers’ top-level dope connections.

 

Incessantly chewing gum in his perpetually rumpled fedora and trenchcoat, the “incorruptible” Nero is first seen driving an AMC Gremlin around the Frisco streets, while trying to relieve his daily stress by squeezing on a black rubber ball. Nero, as quirkily charismatic as ever, kicks impressive butt as the outwardly mild-mannered but durable lead who weaves his way through the film’s numerous plot twists. The somewhat messy scenario also embraces Castellari’s stock-in-trade with several top-notch if no-frills stunt choreography. Highlights include a dockland footchase / shootout that ends with exploding gasoline drums, a smackhead Kungfu vixen puts the foot to Nero in a nightclub only to be unwigged as Kandinsky’s draghag gay lover, and a climatic shootout at an abandoned warehouse, which sees Castellari regulars Romano Puppo and Massimo Vanni going through the rounds. 

 

Thanks to Media Home Entertainment’s widely distributed VHS and Beta videocassettes, Castellari’s film was available in just about every video store during the ’80s and ’90s. However, it wasn’t so fortunate during the DVD era with Televista’s unauthorized bootleg (which was nothing more than a VHS rip ported to DVD) being the sole option, at least here in North America. With the advent of Blu-ray, DAY OF THE COBRA was released on several English-friendly discs in Germany from the likes of FilmArt, Media Target and Cinestrange. Featuring a nicely detailed restoration, Vinegar Syndrome’s Blu-ray is noticeably more colourful and better balanced than FilmArt’s release, which does appear more faithful to its original presentation highlighting many of the gritty textures of the Genoa docklands and abandoned warehouses. Audio options are available in both English and Italian, both of which are DTS-HD MA 2.0 mono with the latter option having proper English translated subtitles. Both audio tracks are effective with Paolo Vasile’s rugged score perfectly accenting the film’s hard-hitting veneer. SDH subtitles are also included. 

 

Included on the disc are a nice selection of special features beginning with an audio commentary from the always welcome trio of authors and film historians Nathaniel Thompson, Troy Howarth and Eugenio Ercolani. In this immersive discussion, they explore the film’s place within the world of polizieschi (or if the film qualifies as such) and its place within Franco Nero’s filmography, Enzo G. Castellari’s fondness for stunt-laden films, the film’s colourful cast and crew, and plenty more besides. It’s an engaging, must listen, which covers a wide spectrum of topics that offers plenty of insight and valuable information into Castellari’s working methods and the peculiarities of the genre itself. In The Director Who Looked Like a Stuntman (24m16s), Castellari sits down for an on-camera interview, which has him discuss his enthusiasm for action scenes and the “supportive” collaboration he had with stuntmen. He also charts the genesis of the film and how co-writer Aldo Lado was originally slated to direct, his choice of setting the film in the port city of Genoa, “the Humphrey Bogart and Jennifer Jones kind of vibe” he added to the film, his first rocky meeting with “actor on the rise” Nero prior to making HIGH CRIME, and the casting for said film, which usually required finding actors that were “highly expressive physically as well as agile on their feet.” In the second featurette Henchman with a Heart of Gold (21m57s), prolific actor / stuntman Massimo Vanni (who would later adopt the Alex McBride alias for his string of Philippine-lensed action / horror films such as Claudio Fragasso’s AFTER DEATH [1989]) goes over his work in the ’70s, which required a lot of physical action alongside the acting, the spontaneous nature of the action scenes, his work with mentor and friend Castellari who always “enjoyed a great relationship with his stuntmen,” working in San Francisco, and so much more. 

 

In DIRTY GANG, the second film on Vinegar Syndrome’s set, trigger-happy robbers hole-up in a fancy residence with a number of hostages. To stall for time, District Attorney Alberti (Mario Brega) agrees to their increasingly agitated demands for safe transportation elsewhere, but as they impatiently await their promised car, determined Inspector Ghini (Luc Merenda) leads his Special Squad on a surprise raid. No sooner has Ghini mopped up his mess – except for the paperwork – than he is dispatched to the scene of Chief Inspector Taddei’s homicide by masked bandits, making this the sixth policeman murdered in less than a year. This latest murder has armed robbery specialist Antonio Lanza’s name written all over it, even though Lanza (Franco Citti) has recently been locked up in a Sardinian prison. Obviously not convinced, Ghini then has the unenviable task of proving otherwise…

 

Providing added comic relief, Tomas Milian reprises his role as “Monnezza” or “Err Monnezza, if one chooses to replicate the Roman dialect (usually referred to on English prints as either “Trashy” or “Garbage Can”), a character that was first introduced in Umberto Lenzi’s FREE HAND FOR A TOUGH COP (1976). Essentially a cross between his “Cuchillo” character from his two Sergio Sollima westerns and a far less sociopathic variation of Aldo Caponi’s “Blade” in Mario Bava’s RABID DOGS (1974), Milian once again sports a resplendent yet laughable ‘Afro’ wig and an increasing amount of eyeliner, and this time maintains his shaky cover by running a pasta restaurant. An underworld player who has a heart of gold underneath his coarse exterior, he also plays Fagin to a motley mob of petty street crooks giving seminars on the creative art of theft via his Free Independent Gangsters’ Academy. But when one of Monnezza’s ‘graduates’ (Paolo Bonetti) takes a job as a getaway driver on a diamond robbery for slick Sicilian bandit Belli (Elio Zamuto), Belli considers a dead accomplice way less of hindrance than a live one. Needless to say, Trashy’s gang – though avowed pacifists all – are determined to see their friend avenged.

 

Thanks to Milian’s performance as the casually lawless Monnezza, DIRTY GANG is more personable and generally less mean-spirited than some of Umberto Lenzi’s work within the genre. Outside of his cartoonish appearance, Milian invests his character with some depth and pathos (here wonderfully dubbed on Italian prints by Milian’s dubber of choice Ferruccio Amendola), which is an interesting contrast to Merenda’s unorthodox conduct punishing criminals in his own inimitable style. That said, DIRTY GANG attains a nice middle ground, balancing its comedic elements with sufficient straight-ahead action, which should easily satisfy Eurocrime enthusiasts. 

 

Also referred to as THE RASCAL’S GANG on Vinegar Syndrome’s box set, this consistently watchable crossover was also released on U.K. videotape as DESTRUCTION FORCE (it’s most common title), which showed up in several grey-market editions throughout the ’90s from outfits such as Luminous Film & Video Wurks. In 2021, it surfaced in Germany as a limited edition Blu-ray/DVD mediabook (with variant covers), which finally allowed English-language viewers to see the film in its intended 2.35:1 aspect ratio, even if it was only 1080i. Three DTS-HD MA 2.0 mono audio tracks in German, Italian and English were also included with optional German and English subtitles, but the English subs were taken from the German dub track, so watching the film in its native Italian didn’t work at all. The shorter German theatrical version (84m34s) was also included, alongside an archival featurette produced by Nocturno with Merenda Milian and Massi (19m59s), the film’s German trailer (3m02s) alongside additional Italocrime trailers, and a 24-page booklet in German and English with writing from Giorgio Navarro.

 

As expected, Vinegar Syndrome’s new restoration offers a very pleasing experience with excellent detail, stronger colours, and a more film-like appearance. Aside from a few instances of brief instability due to some inherent damage on the film, this new presentation is a huge improvement, which goes the same for the DTS-HD MA 2.0 mono audio options in English and Italian. Thanks to the inclusion of properly translated English subtitles for the latter track (and SDH subtitles), this Italian dub adds tremendously to the film’s overall enjoyment. While it’s always nice to have multiple audio options included, the film is severely compromised in its crummy English-language variant, which includes the most cartoonish succession of post-synched voices ever heard. Most amusing is the thick ethnic drawl given to Milian, while Mario Brega is dubbed with a comically shrill rasp that sounds like gravel-throated actor Lionel Stander after inhaling helium. One dubbing artist (the best of the lot, but that ain’t sayin’ much!) with a pompous uppercrust English accent also modulates his tones and dubs several characters throughout the film! This notorious group of English dubbing artists also worked on several Eurociné productions as well as other Italocrime pictures that include Segri & Ferrara’s VIOLENCE FOR KICKS (1977) and Stelvio Massi’s otherwise entertaining HUNTED CITY (1979). 

 

As for extras, both Eugenio Ercolani and Troy Howarth return for another excellent audio commentary with observations on Stelvio Massi’s entire career, Milian’s numerous crime films and the “fierce debate” over the creation of “Err Monnezza,” Merenda’s contributions to the genre and the animosity between the two lead actors, the odd “schizophrenic” nature of said film, the re-purposed music of Bruno Canfora, the very “complex world of producers in Italy,” and their final thoughts on Massi’s cop films. Complimenting this informative and thoughtful discussion, the VS disc also offers a pair of on-camera interviews beginning with The Nonviolent Professional (20m01s), which has Merenda going over his career and his attempt to make films that were “a little different,” his respect for Milian, even though Milian wanted “nothing to do with him,” and his lasting relationship with director Massi. In A Beautiful Ugly Face (23m50s), actor Corrado Solari talks about his work in the theatre during the late ’60s, his fortuitous casting in Sergio Leone’s DUCK, YOU SUCKER (a.k.a. A FISTFUL OF DYNAMITE, 1971), his many crime pictures which he did with “great enthusiasm,” and the improvisational acting style of Tomas Milian in this well-edited piece that turns out to be a very enjoyable career overview of the man’s work.

 

Having already collaborated with Massi on the stunt-laden car crash spectacular HIGHWAY RACER (1977), which starred Merli in a rare appearance sans his trademark ’70s-style ’stache – THE IRON COMMISSIONER (1978) is far more restrained than your usual Merli headliner. This time the iconic lead stars as Maurizio “Mauro” Mariani, an overconfident (“I always luck out!”) police detective who, at the start of the film, thwarts a group of kidnappers and rescues a rich industrialist’s daughter at the behest of his superior Crivelli (Chris Avram). Urged by his colleagues to go visit his son Claudio (Walter Di Santo) on his birthday, Mauro also meets up with his estranged wife Vera (Janet Agren), who still resents him for putting his job before she and their son. Meanwhile, back at the station, Sergio Conforti (Massimo Mirani), an unstable young man who blames Mauro for killing his father, takes a group of people hostage, but when Vera and Claudio accidentally stumble into the precinct, Claudio is snatched for added security, and Mauro will stop at nothing to get him back…

 

Written by prolific writer Roberto Gianviti, THE IRON COMMISSIONER was most likely more ambitious in its conception than what actually transpires on screen. A subplot involving a kidnapping ring run by the “Moroccan” (amusingly played by Italian typecast ‘lowlife’ performer Franco Garofalo) and his main squeeze Rita (Mariangela Giordano who would later become immortalized in the Italian trash horror classics BURIAL GROUND [1980] and GIALLO A VENEZIA [1980]) accounts for much of the film’s compulsory action scenes (including a stylishly-realized shootout at a bottling factory). That said, a sizeable portion of the ‘action’ unfolds within the dreary confines of a police precinct, a fact which only further substantiates the film’s quickie status. As the title suggests, Mauro never wavers in his fight to uphold the law… even when he himself is breaking it! Mauro’s almost habitual dissention is, for the most part, reluctantly accepted (“…you gamble with your life as if you were playing cards!”), but when Mauro’s son is kidnapped, even his CO Crivelli doesn’t hesitate to stop him. As with many of the subsequent Massi / Merli collaborations, THE IRON COMMISSIONER is at times actually quite introspective, not only waxing philosophical on the futility of the thankless job of law enforcement (a typical observation of most Italocrime films), but also the sheer loneliness of it; which, in this case, is further exacerbated by the possibility of Mauro losing everything (i.e., his son). This situation not only pushes him right to the very brink, but just about breaks his ‘iron-clad’ persona in the process.

 

Announced in advance trade press notices as both THE IRON INSPECTOR and COP OF IRON, the Italian version has been released numerous times on Italian VHS videocassette by the likes of Avo Film, Cine International and Video 7. In 2004, Avo Film debuted the film on DVD and their bare bones disc featured a solid 16x9 transfer, but as expected, the only audio option was a Dolby Digital Italian track. In 2018, Cinestrange released this long-dormant Italocrime film on Blu-ray in its very first English-friendly edition under the German title KOMMISSAR MARIANI – ZUM TODE VERURTEILT (trans: “Commissioner Mariani – Sentenced to Death”) as part of their ‘Violenza All’ Italiana’ collection. Once again, Cinestrange’s transfer is middling at best, which appears to have succumbed to a fair amount of unnecessary noise reduction. Both German and Italian audio options are offered in DTS-HD Master Audio 2.0, with a choice of either German or English subtitles, and while many of the subs do include a fair amount of grammatical errors, they’re intelligible enough and are greatly appreciated indeed during much of the film’s talky stretches. Extras include a newly created trailer, and an extensive still gallery (33m02s) playing over Lallo Gori’s uncharacteristic electronic score, which was originally issued by Beat Records on CD with Gori’s score for Giuseppe Vari’s GANGSTERS (1977). Bonus trailers for Sergio Martino’s completely bonkers AMERICAN RICKSHAW (1990) and Karim Hussein’s experimental shocker SUBCONSCIOUS CRUELTY (2000) conclude the extras. Also housed within the Mediabook is a nicely-illustrated 12-page booklet with an essay by Leonhard Elias Lemke entitled “The Iron Detective and the Years of Lead”, but unfortunately, the article’s text is in German only.

 

While not the most vibrantly photographed film, the VS restoration of THE IRON COMMISSIONER is miles better in terms of detail and overall sharpness, even if it sports some brief water damage and mild imperfections here and there; it’s a very faithful, film-like presentation that respects DOP Sergio Rubini’s deliberately muted palette. As with their DIRTY GANG disc, VS include DTS-HD MA 2.0 mono audio options in both English and Italian once again, the latter with properly translated English subtitles. As for the special features, film critic Nanni Cobretti joins Ercolani for another insightful audio commentary which has the pair discuss Merli’s career at length (commonly regarded as “the face of the genre”) and how this little-seen film remains one of Merli’s most “representative” titles in his filmography. They regard the film as a “nice change of pace,” and offer some particularly interesting comments about Massi’s directorial style and how most of his crime films rely heavily on Merli’s persona, while further discussions include their thoughts on the derisive poliziotteschi moniker, which was originally coined by Italian film critics, most of the cast and crew, and plenty more besides in this relaxed and well-researched listen. In the fittingly titled Free Hand for a Tough DOP (23m36s), Rubini sits down for a chat about his start as a camera operator, his “work experiences” with Pier Paolo Pasolini, his dislike working on westerns which were unavoidable at the time, his eventually transition to becoming a DOP, working with the “unstoppable Massi” who was always up for a challenge, and how Merli was a “real pain in the neck” and obsessed with highlighting his hair and pearly blues. Stelvio’s son Danilo also has plenty to say about Merli’s “swashbuckling personality” in The Purest Form of Poliziesco (20m09s) while also discussing his work as an assistant director on his father’s films where he learned “the basics of the craft” and to “tell stories in a measured way.”

 

Housed in a beautifully designed rigid slipbox, VS have also included a thick booklet with informative essays from James Oliver, Adrian Smith and Francesco Massaccesi, all of which add further context to these once underseen films. Offering great restorations and a wealth of informative special features, this highly-pleasing set is an easy recommendation for anyone invested in Italian polizieschi or for those viewers wishing to expand their knowledge beyond the works of Umberto Lenzi or Fernando Di Leo. Order EUROCRIME RARITIES: VOLUME 1 from Vinegar Syndrome. 

GARDENIA - BLU-RAY REVIEW

Arguably best known for directing a pair of rather prestigious nudie nunsploitation pictures, director Domenico Paolella also made the action-packed poliziesco STUNT SQUAD (1977) for Produzioni Atlas Consorziate (P.A.C.), the same production company who also produced the present title. Essentially a contemporized spaghetti western set amidst the shadow world of the Roman malavita, GARDENIA (1979) is a sufficiently engaging gangster picture, yet despite the presence of yank guest stars Martin Balsam and Robert Webber, it was doomed to remain a real obscurity prior to 88 Films’ excellent Blu-ray.

Here making his big screen acting debut, Italo pop singer Franco Califano (a.k.a. Il Califfo) stars as Gardenia, a charming restaurateur and owner of the trendy Mayfair eatery. As described in the English export press synopsis in La Produzione Italiana 1978-79, Gardenia is “one of the best loved rogues in the business, perhaps because he uses his brain and his imagination, more than arms or violence in his dealings.” When underworld bigwigs Salluzzo (Martin Balsam) and Caruso (Robert Webber) propose to consolidate the local syndicates to try and increase the flow of illicit drugs into the country via some of their legitimate business ventures (including Gardenia’s restaurant), Gardenia stubbornly resists buckling under the pressure. Later, when a group of thugs disrespect his establishment, Gardenia responds by serving their meal completely uncooked, but as predicted, the rabble-rousers – actually local gangsters in the employ of Salluzzo and Caruso – subsequently ambush Gardenia and break his arms. Seeking revenge, Gardenia returns to bludgeon his attackers with his hefty plaster casts, but when one of Saluzzo’s men lob a hand grenade into a giant pot of pasta in the Mayfair’s kitchen, they not only destroy his restaurant, but kill his prized chef in the process, which instigates the expected gang war…

 

Despite his unconventional looks, complete with a pinched, hooked nose, Califano makes for a charismatic enough hero. A real flashy dresser, he appears in an all-new dapper suit with a fresh white gardenia for practically every scene. Gardenia also has a fondness for both cats and pussy, though not necessarily in that order, which include love interests Eleanora Vallone as Regina, Lory Del Santo as Laura, and the always welcome Lorraine De Selle as Caruso’s main squeeze Consuelo. In between hopping in and out of bed, he seeks wholesale revenge against the underworld, and with a little help from his friends (including frequent character actor Franco Diogene), he inaugurates his vendetta with the capture of a junior Mafioso who he ties to a pillar and then drops a live grenade into his breast pocket with the pin pulled. Further counter-retaliations occur soon thereafter with Gardenia donning a death-black outfit with ever-present blossom, which he leaves at the scenes of his crimes as a sort of signature. 

 

Even at a lengthy 100 minutes, Paolella’s picture is consistently paced thanks to Amedeo Giomini’s effective cutting, and while it does remain slim on action, it makes up for this shortage with engaging principal performances. Califano seems relaxed, into his character (which may just be an extension of his real – and rather troubled - persona), and actually acts, which is a credit to Paolella’s directorial control, while American guest stars Balsam and Webber put in an easy few days of work as the rival gangsters (both of whom post-synch their dialogue), but still add immeasurably to the overall film. Another big bonus is Califano’s and Willy Brezza’s joint score that mixes together traditional Italian folk music and ’70s pseudo-funk, while the star even uses many motifs favoured by spaghetti western antiheroes. In the final scene, Gardenia even strolls off into the sunset.

 

Never released onto domestic home video, GARDENIA did show up at a number of ethnic Italian video stores in many North American cities, but of course, this VHS videocassette (distributed in Canada by Ital Video Disco) was in Italian only. The film eventually surfaced in English on South Korean VHS courtesy of NVC Video, but their print was a drab-looking mess with burned-in Korean subtitles. In Italy, the film made the jump to DVD in 2006 thanks to Cecchi Gori, but again, no English-language option was offered. Twenty-years later, 88 Films debuted the film on Blu-ray in a “brand new 4K scan,” which benefits Sergio Rubini’s photography a great deal. Emphasizing far greater detail in the film’s dimly-lit nightclubs and dingy billiardi halls, Rubini also exploits the beautiful, and at times, gritty Roman streets lending the film plenty of authenticity. Overall, this is a handsome new restoration and far better than any previous release. As is now customary, 88 Films offers both English and Italian LPCM 2.0 audio options, which sound clean and free of any noticeable distortion, and while some of the Roman dialect is lost on English audiences, the English track is still preferable with Balsam and Webber dubbing their own performances. And for those that care about such minutiae, Califano is well dubbed by seasoned voice talent artist Edward Mannix. 

 

88 Films’ Blu-ray also delivers a wealth of interesting special features beginning with a valuable audio commentary from author and film historian Eugenio Ercolani and film critic Nanni Cobretti who delve into this “strange, anomalous crime film.” They appreciate Califano’s attempt to try something different with his career, even if this “Italian Frank Sinatra” had “no real rapport with cinema” in terms of the long work days. They also discuss the history of P.A.C., and the company’s prolific output, the true definition of a “poliziesco,” Califano’s known friendship with camorra bosses and how the film “ticks all the boxes” when it comes the actor’s persona, P.A.C.’s proposed three picture deal with Califano and its eventual cancellation due to his run-in with the law, which leads into a further discussion of his larger-than-life personality. Functioning as both an overview of the film itself and the “changing landscape” of Italian crime films in the late-’70s, this is an enthusiastic and very worthwhile listen.

 

Additional extras include several on-camera interviews (again from Ercolani) beginning with prolific writer Gino Capone in Gino of All Trades (15m17s) wherein he discusses his career working on mostly commedia all’italiana, how he got involved on GARDENIA, Califano’s subsequent arrest following the release of the film, his thoughts on director Paolella whom he refers to as a “gentleman,” and his eventual involvement with producer Giovanni Di Clemente during the ’80s. In Who Framed the Caliph? (24m55s), Sergio Rubini talks about his early work as a camera operator alongside veteran DOP and future director Stelvio Massi, as well as his subsequent collaborations as a DOP on several of Massi’s police actioners such as HIGHWAY RACER (1977). He goes on to discuss the present film with fond memories (“It was smooth sailing.”), his friendly relationship with Califano, and his dedication to each production, even if some of the films are “undeniable B-movies.” Lastly, Ercolani sits down for a nicely-detailed on-camera interview in Pac Men (32m56s), which has him talking about the film and its place in the crime film landscape, the use of the word “poliziottesco” (a “belittling” term which he feels doesn’t really mean anything) and how most Italian crime films are erroneously lumped into this same category, the genesis of the present film and Califano’s “recurring face and name in gossip magazines for his high-profile love affairs and scandals,” a detailed history of P.A.C., and how the film is a “romanticized, hyperbolic version of what Califano was famous for being - a melancholic, bitterly ironic figure.”

 

As Ercolani points out in one of his many featurettes, GARDENIA is an “anomaly,” but it still emerges as a consistently entertaining picture that should please Eurocrime fans, which is made extra watchable thanks to 88 Films’ quality, extras-filled presentation. Order it directly from 88 Films or DiabolikDVD.

THE CHILDREN OF VIOLENT ROME - BLU-RAY REVIEW

Quote from a translated Italian newspaper ad, which promises “the shocking truth” and “an indictment against society.” Given the film’s brutal subject matter, it’s no surprise Renato Savino’s THE CHILDREN OF VIOLENT ROME (1976) was “prohibited to minors under 18-years of age.”

 

One of the more obscure “youths run wild” films, this is yet another urban crime story ripped directly from blood-soaked Italian headlines during the turbulent Years of Lead (1968 – 1982), a period characterized by numerous terrorist attacks and unprecedented acts of violence from across the political spectrum. One such case, which took place in 1975 between the 29^th and 30^th of September in Circeo, a beach resort town outside Rome, involved a trio of affluent youngsters from Parioli (a northern suburb of Rome) who abducted, tortured and raped two women, Donatella Colasanti and Rosaria Lopez. Although Colasanti survived her ordeal, this crime of brutal violence sent shock waves of outrage throughout the country and media. As with the present title, Sergio Grieco’s and Massimo Felisatti’s VIOLENCE FOR KICKS (1976) and Marino Girolami’s ROMA, L’ALTRA FACCIA DELLA VIOLENZA (1976) were likewise derived from the same shocking news story. 

 

Although Savino’s film is a fictional account of said factual incident, the film attempts to gain some authenticity by employing a documentary-like pre-credits sequence. Reporting on juvenile delinquency through a series of on-the-spot interviews with real-life citizens, Savino accurately reflects on the current dilemma plaguing Italy at the time. “We have reached a point of no return.” Remarks one frustrated citizen, while another surmises that tougher laws need to be implemented. 

 

Using the above headline as a prime motivator, Savino’s film chiefly focuses on a band of Neo-fascist, bourgeois punks led by Marco Garroni (Gino Milli), a true sociopath who represents the extreme far-right in its most negative incarnation. Huddling together in their spacious Nazi-themed subterranean hideout, this group of Pariolini teens (one of the film’s few authentic details to the real-life events) either talk politics (“I cannot be fascist because fascism is just pseudo-socialism.”) or plan their next anarchic crime spree in the hopes of subverting the prevailing political order. While their headquarters seem almost comically over-the-top with swastikas and giant posters of Adolf Hitler adorning each and every wall, Savino does however, emphasize the bitter contrasts between the Haves and Have-Nots, which is constantly reiterated throughout the film. Although occasionally forced by circumstance to join forces, Schizzo (Emilio Locurio) and his gang of proletarian hooligans must eke out a living as scippatori stealing whatever they can, including sandwiches or roast chickens for their next meal, whereas Marco dines on wine and gnocchi at a swish restaurant. A by-product of wealthy, but emotionally loveless parents who either trade-off genuinely demonstrative familial affection with either material possessions or protection from the law (“You’ve done a robbery… You know what it cost to get you out of that?”), Marco and his gang are very much at odds amidst the working-class Roman neighbourhoods driving around in his father’s classy Jaguar XJ, which does come in handy following an attempted robbery, where he and his gang test the limits of their power knowing full well they are beyond the law and above suspicion. 

 

Exceedingly cynical in its general tone and outlook, which seems to revel in the very sex and violence it’s purportedly condemning, THE CHILDREN OF VIOLENT ROME is a picture so exploitative and so unlikable (which doesn’t mean you shouldn’t watch it!), it’s impossible to root for any of the characters in the film. Although Schizzo’s gang subsists as petty thieves, which even includes the spontaneous theft of a motorcycle, Savino’s does instill some depth of character and pathos when Schizzo is seen scrounging for food, but then quickly shatters that illusion when he and his gang rape a woman and beat-up her boyfriend in lover’s lane. As if answering some unspoken desire of the director himself, even one of the film’s many rape victims (Cristina Businari) begins to enjoy her ordeal, after which she vehemently extols the virtues of being forcibly taken, “It’s violence which excites us to the most extreme limits!” In essence, Savino merely gives us his take on the events leading up to that fateful act of violence or “extreme limit,” which involves the brutal re-enactment of the Circeo Massacre that is difficult to forget. Ultimately, the film offers no solutions to a complex sociological problem other than a quick afterthought flashed across the screen by film’s end, “We’ve shown you what could happen. What are you going to do to stop it?” which, if anything else, plainly reveals Savino’s right-wing sympathies.  

 

Despite large doses of sex and violence, THE CHILDREN OF VIOLENT ROME was mainly intended for domestic consumption whose very Italian perspective must have seemed like a real handicap for foreign exporters, so it should come as no surprise that even on home video, the film never made it out of Italy. Released on Italian VHS by PCX Home Video, which included a decent widescreen transfer of the film, it eventually made the jump to DVD in 2005 courtesy of Italy’s Surf Video as part of their “Serie Z” sub-label, but this nice-looking edition was once again not English-friendly. Skipping forward 20-years, boutique label Terror Vision decided to issue this “problematic” film on Blu-ray, in what is easily the film’s definitive release. “Scanned and restored in 2K from its original camera negative,” TV’s region free Blu looks immaculate, delivering a solid, detailed image that really brings out the film’s heretofore unseen colour palette, while accurately depicting the grim surroundings of the eternally divided Eternal City. The Italian DTS-HD Master Audio 2.0 mono track is also consistently clear without any issues to report, while the optional English subtitles provided by Eugenio Ercolani and Francesco Massaccesi, no doubt replicate the Roman dialect as precisely as possible. 

 

In view of the film’s tricky nature, Terror Vision have put together several interesting extras to help put everything in context beginning with an audio commentary from Italian cinema experts Eugenio Ercolani and Nanni Cobretti where they discuss everything from the film’s “broad-term” English translation of the film’s title, the “watershed moment in Italian culture” that inspired the film and Renato Savino’s short career as a production manager, writer and director working in the “underbelly of the industry.” Of course, they also talk about the Circeo Massacre (“One of the most heinous and despicable events to ever occur in Italy.”) and how Savino’s “instant movie” is a “kaleidoscope of what Italy was and will become” at the time, the film’s many troubling elements, the many different dialects used in the film, which are lost on North American English-speaking audiences, and some of the similarities to Romolo Guerrieri’s superior YOUNG, VIOLENT, DANGEROUS (1976). It’s a very good, fact-filled conversion, which not only helps reveal Italy’s political turmoil at the time of the film’s production, but a great deal about low-budget filmmaking, and Savino’s unique place in the lower-echelons of the Italian film industry. TV’s Blu-ray also includes another commentary track with Rachael Nisbet who provides a more scholarly observation into the film’s many “sociological subtexts,” Savino’s “directorial intentions,” the headlines of the era and similar confrontations between Neo-fascists and anarchist communists in the piazza San Babila in Milan, which was also extensively covered in Carlo Lizzani’s remarkable but equally-shocking SAN BABILA 8.P.M. (1976). She also goes over much of Savino’s background, details on the cast and crew, the film’s poor critical reception, which was described by some reviewers as “so crude and superficial that it borders on the laughable” and the “contentious attitudes of the time,” in what is yet another in-depth and well-researched listen for this “provocative” film.

 

Eugenio Ercolani also produces a few must-see featurettes beginning with Cutting a Violent Rome (24m), an on-camera interview with editor Roberto Colangeli who goes over much of his career including his early stints working with his father Otello Colangeli who was difficult to work with, but at the same time, he learned much of his trade from his father and veteran cutter. As for the film at hand, he thought it was a “very cheap and bad film, but does admit it also has “a very rough and natural” feel which works in its favour. He also chats about some of his working relationships with other directors such as Renato Polselli and Mario Gariazzo. In The Lawless Breed (27m25s), character actor Marco Zuanelli, best remembered for his role as Wobbles in Sergio Leone’s masterpiece ONCE UPON A TIME IN THE WEST (1969), talks extensively about his time working with Savino who was “very humane despite being meticulous and strict on set,” and a “fascist from head-to-toe!” Eventually, he fell out of acting (he is an architect by trade) because from a “human standpoint,” he didn’t like the environment. He also gets a chuckle at the Americans who are “wasting their time over this flick!” Gino Milli (a.k.a. Luigi Miglietta) is interviewed next in Baby Face Gino (32m24s) where he talks about his start in the film business including a number of small parts in prestigious films from the likes of Pietro Germi and Mauro Bolognini alongside several exploitation films (“I accepted those parts mostly to survive.”), which, if anything, allowed him to extend his acting capabilities. As expected, he also discusses working with Savino and said film, which he found “tough to make” due to its subject matter, and how he became “disenchanted” after losing a major role to Michele Placido in Alberto Negrin’s mini-series IL PICIOTTO (1973). The disc also comes with an informative booklet with a “collection of essays” from Pier Maria Bocchi, Sam Dunkley, Sam Cohen, and Alexandra Heller-Nicholas.

 

While it lacks many of the genre’s traditional trappings such as pyrotechnics, Renato Savino’s THE CHILDREN OF VIOLENT ROME is definitely a watchable enough crossover with enough deviant delinquency to keep fans of more straight-ahead polizieschi consistently entertained.  

THE GAME OF CLONES - BRUCEPLOITATION COLLECTION VOL. 1 - BLU-RAY REVIEW PART 2

For the second part of our detailed look at Severin Films’ THE GAME OF CLONES – BRUCEPLOITATION COLLECTION VOL. 1, disc three kicks-off with Joseph Velasco’s thoroughly engaging ENTER THE GAME OF DEATH (1978), one of the best-loved rip-offs of Robert Clouse’s and Bruce Lee’s GAME OF DEATH (1978). Under its U.S. title of THE KING OF KUNG FU, promotional copy not surprisingly touted it as being “Already an all-time classic! This is the film that others will be judged by!” Set against a bright red background and an assortment of stolen music from the likes of Lalo Schifrin’s ENTER THE DRAGON (1973) and Marvin Hamlisch’s THE SPY WHO LOVED ME (1977), Bruce Le is first seen (in a yellow track suit, of course!) demonstrating his kung fu skills with lots of rapid-fire punches and kicks, and nunchaku expertise. Here, he stars as Chang who is hired by Blue Robe, “a secret organization set up to fight the Japanese” in pre-WWII China. After a highly confidential security document goes missing, which is deemed “vitally important, and in the wrong hands, most dangerous”, Chang must fend off both Mr. Wang and Mr. Kawasaki and their seemingly endless assortment of flunkies. As they squabble over this elusive document, it is eventually “hidden on the top floor in a tower”, which Chang must retrieve, but not before facing a group of skilled fighters on each level…

 

Although topical in its references to Chinese and Japanese tensions, the pencil-thin plot serves merely as an excuse for Bruce Le to come to blows with a number of fighters, with the standout being his ascension up the tower (“Out of my way! I’m going upstairs!”) as he battles a variety of unconventional opponents. Some of the highlights include an auburn-haired baddie who not only practices “snake style” kung fu, but is surrounded by writhing clusters of snakes, which he proceeds to throw at Chang, and in one particularly outlandish moment, he bites the head off a real snake, and then proceeds to shower its blood at our hero! Pre-empting – or perhaps stealing! – the as-yet-unfilmed “red room” sequence from the GAME OF DEATH script, Chang must also fight a crazed warrior (Chiu Chi-Ling) who can only fight in a red-lit room before battling the man dressed in white (Nam Seok-Hoon), who also proves to be no match for Chang. In a rather bizarre turn of events, this extended sequence occurs only in the second act (!), but a succession of endless punch-ups with a whole army of combatants (including Samuel Walls, and of course, Bolo Yeung), reaches its kung fu fighting crescendo, which is reinforced by Bruce’s flashbacks to his cousin’s rape at the hands of Kawasaki. 

 

Taken from a German 35mm print, ENTER THE GAME OF DEATH has the usual inconsistencies such as occasional print damage and some softness in the image, but this is still quite the revelation when compared to Best Film & Video’s heavily-cropped VHS videocassette from the ’80s. Retaining the film’s original 2.35:1 aspect ratio, this colourful print still has a measure of clarity not seen in past analogue editions, which should keep most fans very, very happy. The DTS-HD Master Audio 2.0 English audio is also on par with the film’s image quality, but for the most part, all of the over-amplified kung fu fights and wonky dialogue sound just fine. Given the film’s solid following, Severin have included a number of special features beginning with a partial audio commentary from Michael Worth (42m43s) wherein he discusses his first time seeing the film at the Lux Theater in Oakland, California, the film’s director Joseph Velasco, the cutting of various fight scenes to help “string together a plot of very little importance”, the various copied elements from GAME OF DEATH(including the infamous “red room” sequence), its TV airings on KTLA in Los Angeles, and Bruce Le’s “rise through the ranks.” It’s short but very entertaining.

 

Other special features include a scene specific audio commentary with actor Chiu Chi-Ling (4m26s) wherein the exuberant actor talks about shooting his brief scene in the film, but mostly has a good chuckle seeing himself on screen. Actor Chiu Chi-Ling returns in Kung Fu Movie Hustle (14m49s), an on-camera interview where he discusses his family history, his martial arts schools, his film appearances, and how most of his colleagues “became actors to make a living.” In Talking a Good Game (11m22s), martial artists John Kreng, Tatevik Hunanyan, Ron Strong, and Michael Worth sit down at Jim Kunz’s studios to discuss their first experiences of seeing GAME OF DEATH (and other Bruce Lee films), how the “red room” sequence was “stolen” from Bruce’s original shooting script, and their thoughts on many of the subsequent Bruceploitation films. Finally, Michael Worth returns for another brief but enjoyable intro for the film in Severin’s Kung Fu Theater (1m23s), and then the film’s U.S. release trailer (“The King of Kung Fu is back and he’s up to his old tricks!”, 3m00s) draws the special features to a close.

 

The second feature on disc three is Lin Pin’s and Harold B. Swartz’s GOODBYE BRUCE LEE, HIS LAST GAME OF DEATH (1975), yet another GAME OF DEATH cash-in which is noteworthy for being released 3-years prior to Bruce Lee’s picture. Ripped directly from the still potent headlines about Lee’s death, the filmmakers cheekily attempt to wholeheartedly endorse this picture as the real thing. In fact, according to the audio commentary found elsewhere on this disc, when the film was released by Terry Levene’s Aquarius Releasing, a “State wide injunction” was filed in Pennsylvania against the picture after theater patrons were fooled by its deceptive marketing and demanded their money back! Opening as a quasi-documentary with narration by the great Adolph Caesar, the film chronicles Bruce Lee’s “one burning ambition”, which was to “master the martial arts of the orient.” Through a variety of magazine covers, newsreel footage, and even an interview with Kareem Abdul-Jabbar, Bruce’s co-star from GAME OF DEATH, the picture goes on to clumsily introduce Bruce Li as the “ideal stand-in” to finish Bruce’s final film. Following some vigorous gymnastics training set to Candy’s insanely catchy theme song “The King of Kung Fu”, Lee is then caught up in an altercation in a back alley, which eventually leads to a box of missing cash and confrontations with Mr. K (Lung Fei), the leader of a vast syndicate. Digging himself ever deeper into the thick of Mr. K’s omnipotent organization, plenty of large-scale fights ensue, but when Bruce’s fiancé (Mung Ping) is kidnapped, he must fight his way up the tower of death where she is being held.

 

Li’s ever-resourceful character (“You crooks are always weaklings and cowards!”) gets into punch-ups as casually as changing his underwear, and although this is one of Bruce Li’s first Bruceploitation efforts, he comes off quite well and is completely believable as the “tough yet likable character Bruce Lee brought to the screen.” Settings and costumes provide plenty of ’70s retro kitsch, while some of the gangsters – including big boss man Mr. K and his Elvis-style bouffant hair – seem to have stepped in from the pages of Cracked magazine. Action is economical but effective with loads of mindless fight scenes (including a terrific pole-fighting clash in a city square), which keep things moving along briskly. Despite its occasionally indecipherable continuity (the film’s intended “film-within-a film” aspect is completely spoiled in the current edit), the unusual structure definitely helped the film become a notable commercial success, which was no doubt helped along by Candy’s ever-reliable theme song that conveniently plays whenever the film threatens to slow down. 

 

Although released on DVD by Anchor Bay in 2004, Severin’s new 2K restoration taken from Aquarius Releasing’s CRI looks very solid, even with the film’s newsreel-styled opening and generally undistinguished photography. Once more, the English DTS-HD 2.0 mono audio sounds fine, but gains plenty of energy during the lengthy kung fu battles and Candy’s funky title tune. As for special features, the big one here is an audio commentary from Frank Djeng who provides tons of material beginning with the documentary-styled opening, which attempts to “legitimize this film”, how the filmmakers “based their assumption” on the unfinished GAME OF DEATH through still photos, the film’s memorable theme song and it’s very interesting genesis which involves future Hollywood actor Rebecca De Mornay (!), the film’s “mafia gangster plot” which was taken from Bruce Lee’s THE WAY OF THE DRAGON (1972), Terry Levene’s “interesting ways to promote some of his films”, background info on many of the Taiwan actors who are “not very well archived”, and plenty of additional facts about Bruce Li. At the 56-minute mark, Mr. Djeng is joined by These Fists Break Bricks co-author Chris Poggiali who goes into even more detail about Terry Levene and his company Aquarius Releasing, and how said film was “just kinda winging it” with “ideas stretched beyond the technical proficiencies of the filmmakers.” This is another strong commentary, and the two men make a solid pairing. 

 

Additional extras include several deleted scenes (11m46s), which includes the aforementioned “film-within-a-film” aspect lost in the U.S. theatrical cut, and The Last Kung Fu Picture Show (12m28s) hosted by Worth and Djeng who reminiscence about seeing many of these films on the big screen in San Francisco and Los Angeles, where they not only gained “respect for the theater experience” but inspiration and motivation for their own subsequent careers. Michael Worth pops up again in Severin’s Kung Fu Theater (2m08s) where he briefly comments on the various GAME OF DEATH mockups and how audiences missed the “creative bait and switch” plot point. The film’s radio spot (“He’s more than a memory to his millions of brothers of all colors!”, 1m04s) and lengthy trailer (4m07s) complete the extras for disc three. 

 

In what is positively the most insane and outright bizarro entry in the entire Bruceploitation realm, Lo Ke’s THE DRAGON LIVES AGAIN (1977) is a mind-boggling crowd pleaser unlike any other, and a perfect start to disc four. To at least try and establish what viewers are in for, a lengthy opening credits sequence has our Bruce Lee lookalike (this time played by Bruce Liang [a.k.a. Leung Siu-Lung] or Bruce Leong, as he is credited here) squares off against a variety of popular cinematic characters including James Bond (Alexander Grand) and The Godfather (Shin Il Lung) as Frankie Chan’s lively cut-and-paste soundtrack plays havoc with your eardrums. Following his death, Bruce ends up in the Underworld where he must fight the Godfather’s many associates including James Bond, The Man with No Name (Bobby Canavarro, complete with poncho and cigarillo), Zatoichi (Mei Wong), Dracula (Hsi Chang), and even Emmanuelle (Jenny), all of whom are in cahoots to try and overthrow the King of the Underworld (Tong Ching). With the help of Popeye (Eric Tsang), The One-Armed Swordsman (Lik Cheung), and other underworld underlings, Bruce launches an all-out assault on this treasure trove of film celebrities, but the King has other plans as well…

 

Essentially a fusion of kung fu with over-the-top retarded slapschtick, THE DRAGON LIVES AGAIN is more ludicrous than anything ever seen in another Bruceploitation flick. In this zany clash of pop culture references, Bruce Leong is well up to the demands of his role and runs a virtual damn marathon during the course of the picture, moving through a relentless melody of kinetic comedy set-pieces including a protracted – and very entertaining – slugfest with Zatoichi (who demonstrates a kung fu style called the “Blind Dog Pisses[!]”), and a later run-in with Dracula (who doesn’t seem to be affected by sunlight one iota) and his cadre of skeleton men. Amid this machinegun barrage of stupidity, Bruce is first seen in the Underworld laid out on a slab with a bedsheet covering his posthumous erection, a subject the film continues to play on with further phallic outbursts and double-entendres (“Beat me hard with that terrible weapon!” Exclaims one of the King’s concubines), which reaches its zenith when Emanuelle refers to herself as “such a silly little pussy.” Surprisingly, most of the actresses doff their semi-formal dragon-robes during plentiful T&A (which also includes a lengthy group bath with the King’s concubines where they discuss Bruce’s endowment, and later cocktease the King), while Emanuelle attempts to kill the King the only way she knows how (“If he goes on, he’ll have a heart attack!”) in a scene which was edited out of most prints. Needless to say, this highly-energetic and irresistibly daft confection has the arguable distinction of being one of the craziest Bruceploitation films ever made.

 

A victim of shoddy VHS tapes and even shoddier DVDs from bootleg specialists like Videoasia, THE DRAGON LIVES AGAIN also received an extremely limited edition BD-R from Gold Ninja Video a few years back, which featured the same ho-hum fullscreen print, but more importantly, the disc also included an enjoyable audio commentary from The Important Cinema Club’s Justin Decloux and Will Sloan, a beginner’s guide to Bruceploitation, an 80-minute reel of Bruceploitation trailers, and Matthew Mallinson’s FIST OF FEAR TOUCH OF DEATH (1980) as a bonus feature. Scanned in 2K from AGFA’s suitably battered, but no less watchable 35mm print, this widely-held bargain bin favourite finally looks really good, despite all the debris, emulsion scratches, and some occasional fading. Given the source material, the DTS-HD 2.0 English mono audio has some intermittent cracks and other artifacts, but nothing too distracting at all. Michael Worth and Frank Djeng return for another audio commentary wherein they shed light on a number of interesting facets beginning with the origin of Bruce Lee’s “three legs” nickname, which is used for a very different effect in said film, the film’s many bits of “clever humour”, it’s many phallic references, the limited sets and single outdoor location, some of the different fighting techniques Bruce Leong uses in the film and his impressive use of nunchakus, details on most of the film’s cast and crew, the protracted sex scene, the film’s many references to Bruce Lee’s pictures which many viewers may miss, it’s interesting parallels to Victor Fleming’s THE WIZARD OF OZ (1939), and of course, the film’s many pop culture characters. Although labeled as an audio essay, “Cult Cinema Critic” Lovely Jon provides another audio commentary (40m51s), where he considers himself “a complete and utter kung fu film freak fanatic” and “an old schooler who looks at the film differently.” At first, he reminisces about the early days of the UK video rental scene and the “makeshift back rooms at the news agents”, which stood for video stores, his first time renting the film, which remains (via a post millennial label) “the all-time most lunatic, demented, fucking out-there entry in the whole Bruceploitation universe.” He goes on to discuss the film’s production history and its production company Goldig Films, the “micro-detailed proficiency” of Ming Ho’s photography, and its “crude array of library cues” and composer Frankie Chan. Lastly, he gives props to Bill Bennett, an “ahead of his time legend” who first discovered many of these obscurities in the pre-internet days. It’s another excellent listen full of great facts and analysis. 

 

Other additional special features include a nice selection of deleted scenes (6m53s) taken from a French 35mm print, which helps “fill in a few of the gaps” to help explain why Bruce died, and why he was sent to the Underworld in the first place. Another installment of Severin’s Kung Fu Theater (2m02s) is included where Michael Worth talks about the “over-the-top premise” and how some of the martial arts sequences are as “original as the story.” The film’s U.S. theatrical trailer (“Bruce challenges the evil forces of the Underworld!”, 1m37s) from Cineworld Pictures concludes the special features. 

 

Although Bruce Li is the star of Dao Lo Pao’s (a.k.a. To Man-Bo) BRUCE AND THE IRON FINGER (1979), the second feature on disc four, Bruce Liang also figures prominently in this action-filled kung fu film, which has all the convolutions and complications of a murder mystery. Detective Bruce Chen (Li) is about to take a much-needed vacation even as his superior reveals that the city has “less robberies, but an increase in murders”, but when nightclub entertainer and kung fu expert Wang Kai (Yukio Someno) is found dead by a type of kung fu better known as the “iron finger technique”, Chen takes it upon himself to solve the murder. Infiltrating various martial arts schools, his investigation eventually leads him to Hu Pao (Ku Feng) and Ling Sao Lung (Leung Siu-Lung / a.k.a. Bruce Liang), both of whom practice the dreaded iron finger technique…

 

In the interests of furthering his investigation, Li launches unyielding determination as the utterly inexhaustible detective Chen, who fights first and asks questions later. Boasting some absolutely terrific martial arts choreography thanks to Leung Siu-Lung and his brother Leung Siu-Hung, which includes an extraordinary, no-holds barred fight between Li and Liang (“I’ll give you one more chance or I’ll take you in!” Exclaims Chen), the film allows most of the players to show off their considerable skills, which culminates with an epic dockside brawl with just about the entire cast. Liang comes off exceptionally well as Ling Sao, who often punctuates his appearances with smiles… or a punch, and adds plenty of ‘star’ presence, which also includes Shaw Brothers alumnus Ku Feng as the raving mad Hu Pao who has a deadly secret. As Hu Pao’s equally unstable, but favourite girl, Lulu (Lee Hoi Gei) who hams it up in nothing more than her underwear or see-thru negligee, is memorable in just about every scene she appears in, which includes a hilarious bout of S&M byplay (“Get on the floor and make like a horse. I’ll ride you!”) as Curtis Mayfield’s Pusherman rattles on the soundtrack. Judging by its threadbare sets and meagerly-costumed extras, BRUCE AND THE IRON FINGER was obviously shot on a lower-than-usual budget for this kind of film, and while the plot becomes too elaborate for its own good (the film even throws in some half-hearted sub-plots about a Vietnamese slave ring), it still makes for plenty of entertainment with Leung Siu-Lung’s fight choreography being the definite standout.

 

Released during the fading years of the VHS boom as BRUCE AGAINST THE IRON HAND via Xenon Entertainment’s 1999 videocassette, this heavily-cropped affair never gave the film a fair shake, but Severin Films’ new scan taken from a 35mm print “held by a private collector” is substantially better in every way. Although it still contains plenty of speckles in the form of dirt and debris, some occasional missing frames, and a bit of irreparable damage around the 43-minutes mark, detail is reasonably sharp for the most part and the film’s scope framing helps tremendously during many of the film’s high-energy fight scenes. The DTS-HD 2.0 English mono audio sounds fine enough, but viewers should expect a few jumps in the audio and some occasional inconsistencies. For the most part though, all of the post-dubbed dialogue and embellished sound effects are clear and hilariously effective. 

 

As for extras, Michael Worth returns for a solo audio commentary wherein he enthusiastically discusses the “awesome choreography”, director To Man-Bo’s early career as an actor who eventually transitioned to directing (Worth regards him as a producer’s director who “gets the film done”), the sexual oppression of men in the film, some of the real-life fighting styles which possibly inspired the “iron finger technique” used in the film, Bruce Li’s impressive fighting skills and the overall “well-done rhythms of the fights”, and plenty more besides. Martial artists John Kreng, Tatevik Hunanyan, Ron Strong, and Michael Worth return for My First Bruceploitation (10m38s), another roundtable discussion where each of them talk about seeing their first Bruceploitation film, and their inevitable disappointments at the time, some of the “less discriminating” audience members, and their favourite Bruce Lee clones, which to a large extent seems to be Bruce Li. Worth also returns for another installment of Severin’s Kung Fu Theater (1m38s) in which he cites how Bruce Li “tried to pave a path for himself as an original action actor” and his prolific output in 1979. The film’s U.S. theatrical trailer narrated by Adolph Caesar (“Bruce Li is back in his most exciting role!”, 1m40s) and the film’s original Hong Kong trailer (4m04s) wrap things up rather nicely on disc four. 

 

Moving on to disc five, Dick Randall returns with CHALLENGE OF THE TIGER (1980), his companion film to THE CLONES OF BRUCE LEE, which again features Bruce Le in the title role, and who also assumes the director’s chair for the occasion. When a couple of scientists develop a new formula that sterilizes men (!), they are immediately killed by a pair of assassins, and this “priceless formula” becomes the primary objective of the CIA who put their best men on the case: Huang Lung (Bruce Le), a Chinese brought up in Europe, and his womanizing partner, Richard ‘Dick” Cannon (Richard Harrison). To clearly establish just what a lady-killer our lovable Dick is, he is first seen playing a game of tennis with a bevy of topless, jiggly women (all captured in slow-motion, to the sounds of Jon Stevens’ Montego Bay, no less!), which is soon followed by more nude swimming, sunbathing, and one particular woman’s fascination with a water-spouting statue! As a result of a tip-off, our over-confident agents arrive in Spain at a bullfighting ring where Huang, attempting to seize the elusive formula, ends up in the ring where he must square off with the angry longhorn! Meanwhile, the eager Dick seduces Maria (Nadiuska) and gets to nuzzle her photogenic bosoms in a bubbly hot tub, all in the hopes of obtaining the formula. But when this turns out to be a ruse, our pair of secret agents are sent to Hong Kong where they must fight other goons in the employ of the terrorist boss (Tito Garcia) and Vietcong communists led by Comrade Yang (Hwang Jeong-Lee)… 

 

The basic ridiculousness of the present scenario is apparent right from the get-go, and it’s inevitable you’ll laugh spasmodically at a few of the preposterous sequences, which are made extra watchable with the inclusion of veteran Euro players Harrison and Brad Harris (here credited as Bradford Harris) as a grinning sadist muscleboy, who even gets to fight Yang Sze (a.k.a. Bolo Yeung) in an all too brief sequence. The extremely prolific Tao Chiang also appears as a smiley-faced killer, who also partakes in an exhilarating mano-a-mano battle with Hwang Jeong-Lee. And for you Jess Franco fanatics, keep your eyes peeled for a small but revealing role for Alicia Principe, future star of THE NIGHT HAS A THOUSANDDESIRES (1984) and THE SEXUAL STORY OF O (1984). Throughout the film, our quirkily charismatic agents frequently suspect that every person they meet along the way just might be a mob assassin or double-agent… which often actually proves to be the case and results in a sloppy slugfest or shootout. Although messily plotted, Bruce Le packs his globetrotting film with every exploitation draw he can muster, and when all is said and done you can’t find too much fault with a movie that includes topless women playing tennis!

 

First issued on U.S. home video in the ’80s as GYMKATA KILLER via All American Video, CHALLENGE OF THE TIGER eventually landed on DVD in 2005 thanks to Mondo Macabro, who released it as part of a lunatic double feature with Eddie Nicart’s FOR YOUR HEIGHT ONLY (1981). Although MM’s 20-year old DVD still looks really good, Severin’s new 4K scan taken from the original camera negative is definitely superior with well-defined detail and vibrant colours, save for a few odd horizontal scratches, which may be an in-camera or feeding issue at the time of the film’s production. In view of the excellent source material, the DTS-HD 2.0 English mono audio is in good shape without any discernible issues to speak of, other than the usual cacophony of dubbed-in sound effects. In terms of special features, Michael Worth returns for another engaging audio commentary and is this time joined by writer, filmmaker, and film historian C. Courtney Joyner, both of whom have plenty to discuss about this “bizarre movie” beginning with Dick Randall (“He was quite a character!”) and how the film was financed, his “checkered background”, the international co-productions which became more prevalent in the latter years of the genre, all of the actors in the films with lots of info on ex-peplum stars Harrison and Harris, some of the film’s “plot issues”, many of the film’s more outrageous scenes including the bullfighting showdown, the film’s sexuality, the lack of permits used throughout the production, and the “many advantages of shooting low-budget movies.” For this installment of Severin’s Kung Fu Theater (1m27s), Worth applauds Bruce Le’s no-holds barred direction for not being “afraid to wink at the camera or even flash at the camera” and the film’s “odd cameos.” Lastly, the film’s original theatrical trailer (3m52s) finishes off the special features, which promises, “A cast of international stars in an arena of death and destruction that spans three continents!” That’s some pretty accurate ballyhoo! 

 

Alfonso Beni’s CAMEROON CONNECTION (1984), the second feature on disc five, might more technically be described as a crime film, but it contains enough Bruce Le action to warrant its inclusion here. A co-production between France and Cameroon, Beni was a bit of a renaissance man who began his career in France during the ’70s appearing in various low-budget – and mostly erotic – films like Pierre Chevalier’s Eurocine funded LADIES HOUSE OF PLEASURE (1974). Coaxed to return to Cameroon by his mentor-of-sorts, the prolific DP Roger Fellous (best known for his work on France’s first X-rated film PUSSY TALK [1975]), Beni embarked on a long career in his home country, of which CAMEROON CONNECTION is probably his most recognized work. When singer Lise Bella (France Lise) is found murdered, Inspector Baïko (Alfonse Beni) is assigned to the case, only to realize that Bella actually has a twin sister who is mixed-up with the local sex trade circuit. His investigation eventually takes him to Paris, where, by chance, he meets Bruce (Bruce Le) after getting into a scuffle at an African-themed nightclub (“There are racists everywhere! Even in African nightclubs!” Declares Bruce). It just so happens that Bruce also has business interests in Cameroon, so when Baïko begins to unravel a drug operation back home, Bruce decides to help his fellow ‘brother’ out…

 

Upon his return to Cameroon, Alfonse Beni became a minor action ‘superstar’ following the success of said film, a low-budget throwback to the Eurocrime action pictures of the ’70s. Beni’s central Baïko character is an appropriately tough cop (“I do like danger and work!”) who likes to do things his own way, but given the film’s main impetus, much of it is tastefully restrained, even as it adds calculated allusions about political corruption, which is usually resolved with far too much ease and too little suspense. Although indifferently directed and edited, the narrative appears disjointed to say the least as numerous subplots are briefly alighted upon, only to have Beni suddenly whisk us away to another situation. Scenery jumps from Douala to Paris to Yaoundé, and back to Douala, meaning tons of mandatory travelogue footage hyping each new location, which lends considerable authenticity to such action genre staples as a pseudo-kung fu punchup (the Cameroonian actors stand out like sore thumbs trying to keep up with Bruce Le’s lightning-fast fists) at a warehouse and a lengthy car / motorbike pursuit throughout the city of Yaoundé. Invigorated by Roger Fellous’ slick and glossy photography, CAMEROON CONNECTION is unusual enough structurally and compelling enough at the same time to warrant a look-see by devotees of both Bruceploitation and Eurocrime genres. 

 

Sporting a beautiful 4K scan taken from the original camera negative, CAMEROON CONNECTION looks quite flawless with most of the outdoor scenes looking magnificent, which is especially impressive given the film’s low-budget origins. Shot in French, the DTS-HD 2.0 French mono audio (with English subtitles) also sounds particularly good, with most of Daniel J. White’s re-cycled cues from Jess Franco films and the Eurociné vaults sounding nice and clean; White’s scores for Jess Franco’s BARBED WIRE DOLLS (1975) and Eurociné’s aqua-snoozer ZOMBIE LAKE (1980) get solid workouts herein. Severin Films commissioned another audio commentary for this rarely-seen film, this time from Criterion Reflections’ David Blakeslee who freely admits at the start that “some of the dots don’t always connect so well as far as the plot is concerned.” He goes on to talk about Alfonse Beni’s unique career, the film’s locations and the “Cameroonian working class”, Bruce Le’s involvement in the project, the film’s many product placements, and some of the “ham-handed and clunky performances.” 

 

In Lights… Cameroon… Action! (48m18s), Beni’s assistant and friend Jean Roke Patoudem and B-movie specialist Richard Tribouilloy offer a remembrance of sorts to this “mysterious and fascinating man” who discuss his unusual career with great detail and affection. From his early start in Paris appearing in softcore films to his work in Cameroon, and later in Hong Kong, Beni was Cameroon’s “first independent filmmaker” whose passion for cinema was unending right up until his death in March of 2023. Next up, Beni appears at a Q&A session (shot in 2022) at the Cine Club N’Kah (11m05s) and reveals that CAMEROON CONNECTION was the “first film shot in Cinemascope 35mm in Cameroon”, the difficulties of shooting sync sound, the film’s worldwide distribution, and how he got Bruce Le to appear in the film. Last but not least, Michael Worth returns for another segment of Severin’s Kung Fu Theater (1m08s) where he talks about this film being the most unique co-production in Bruce Le’s entire career and its “different textures” when compared to Bruce’s other films, and its lengthy chase sequence. 

For our third part of this review, visit here.