Wednesday, September 2, 2009

Ka-Fai Wai's Too Many Ways to Be No. 1 (1997)

Fate. Karma. Destiny. If you don't believe in any of those, then that's cool and good for you. Kau (Ching Wan Lau) is getting a palm reading, while he's staring at his faux Rolex, and by the look on his face, he's either confused or didn't like what was said. Kau's a crime boss of a little crew, definitely of the t-shirts and jeans variety, and he sells flowers and funeral wreaths to get by. Little weasel Bo meets him on the street and how to you get to be No.1? How do you get yourself some Rolex, Armani, Cartier, and some Calvin Klein underwear? Pull a heist and land in the big times. Ka-Fai Wai shows that there are Too Many Ways to be No. 1 (1997), which becomes two stories about one man who gets into a lot of No. 2.Kau sits with a makeshift crew, including Matt (Francis Ng), while weasel Bo relates the gig: steal five Mercedes Benz with delivery to a crime syndicate in mainland China for a big payout. Not only will it put some cash in their pockets, the score will up their rep in Hong Kong. Kau gets stuck with the bill, and since they're all going to be big men, they go to the local massage parlor for some primping. When the hefty bill comes his way, Kau refuses to pay it and he and his crew begin a brawl within, ending with Kau grabbing the loot from the parlor and Matt inadvertently running over little weasel Bo. Back at their hideout, in a very nasty and silly sequence, the crew tries to revive little Bo with disastrous results. The money from the parlor heist is lost in a ball of flames. Bo's death means that their contact in mainland China is cut off, and then there's the messy problem with his corpse.


The rest of the first story plays out unexpectedly yet predictably in Too Many Ways to Be No. 1, primarily because of Kau's fortune. Dejected and angry, his journey to mainland China plays out like a punishment for his actions in an escalating series of bad choices with disastrous results. Along the way, Kau becomes angrier and impulsive, really angry at himself. Kau eventually loses control over his crew, and the crew eventually loses control of itself to an outsider and eventually, to outside forces.Cut to the second story, and Kau's faux Rolex is broken on the street. Little weasel Bo is taking a beating by Kau and there's a heist to be had. Over dinner, with Matt again in company, Bo relates the gig, and Kau gets stuck again with the bill. Off to the massage parlor, and the boys run up quite the bill, again. The manager comes over and Kau gets stuck with the bill: calm and collected, with integrity and honor, Kau pays what he can and gives up his watch as payment. Kau calmly walks out of the parlor alone, while one of the local parlor girls follows him home. She's off to Taiwan tomorrow and wants a man to see her off at the airport. She's leaving Hong Kong, because she has no one there who cares about her. Kau goes with her and sees her off. Matt shows up at the airport and begs for his help. Matt's got a hit to perform in Taiwan and wants Kau to help him. Both stories are meditations on fate, karma, destiny, and the like. The only thing that separates the two stories is Kau's attitudes and outlook on life. Too Many Ways to Be No. 1 shows that one cannot control his/her feelings but only his/her actions. The consequences of those actions are also not within control. Too Many Ways to Be No. 1 ain't a poetic mediation either: often violent and bloody, nonsensical and silly, harsh and unforgiving, and seriously kinetic. Wai's camera flies all over the place and shows some especially bold compositions. He completely turns the camera one hundred and eighty degrees during the initial massage parlor brawl. Few filmmakers would go there: it's nearly unwatchable, because the action is not discernible. Just chaos. A interesting stylistic approach which is also a big risk that pays off big. Wai's imagery within the frames is really a balance of nastiness and silliness. A jarring blend. Ka-Fai Wai is Johnnie To's creative partner at Milkway Productions (who produced here). Wai often shares a directorial credit on To's films, and you can see where his creative talent resides with Too Many Ways to Be No. 1. Wai, also co-writer here, is very adept at creating multi-faceted characters in films with very rich themes. Wai never goes for the safe move in his films: his characters will take action with serious consequences. Wai also directed one of my favorites from HK and one of Yun-fat Chow's last HK films before he went to Hollywood, Peace Hotel (1995), a fun riff on Django (1966) that is also unexpected and stylish. Written By (2009) is one of my most-anticipated films from Hong Kong this year, and if anything, I can rely on Wai delivering something offbeat and unexpected. It also stars Milkyway's main man and currently one of the best actors working period, Ching Wan Lau.Lau's fantastic. His heartfelt appearance in Derek Yee's C'est la vie, mon chéri (1994) seriously raised some eyebrows and gained the actor quite a following. Lau, like Jack Nicholson, has an amazingly expressionistic face and convey a wide range of emotions, seemingly effortlessly just with glances and looks. He's quite magnetic, and I'll see anything that he's in. Too Many Ways to Be No. 1 is Kau's story, and Lau owns this role. Lau's performance is up to the energy level of Wai's creative input: Lau has to play the same character who evolves with two different character arcs. Taxing for most actors, Lau executes brilliantly. It's really hard not to fall in love with Lau's Kau in Too Many Ways to Be No. 1, and it's one of my favorite performances by him.Too Many Ways to Be No. 1 was made at a time when eyes were off Hong Kong cinema. Most of its stars and big-time directors moved away, and the majority of the films were lacking in excitement. However, the flame never died, and Too Many Ways to Be No. 1 shines brightly.

Tuesday, September 1, 2009

Greg Mottola's Adventureland (2009)

In 1987, I would have turned twelve before its summer and beginning adolescence. Adolescence is sometimes painful and wonderful transitional period, and so is early adulthood, especially the early twenties. Greg Mottola, director of Adventureland (2009), would have been in his early twenties in 1987, the same as the characters in his film. Now, as a grown man, Mottola's made a film from a more experienced view, taking a look backwards with a very observant eye for detail of early adulthood. Indeed, I don't think I would have been affected by Adventureland nearly as much as when I was twenty-four as I have found it today at thirty-four. Not only is Adventureland a detailed and rich portrait of its twenty-something characters, it's easily one of the best films of 2009.
James Brennan is graduating college with a recently-broken heart from an eleven-day relationship but with high hopes that his summer trip to Europe will be eventful and also the exciting times at Columbia University graduate school in the fall. Back in Pittsburgh, his hometown, his parents have some sad news: Brennan's father has been demoted, and the family is making considerably less money. No trip to Europe and any plans of moving to NYC in the fall will mean that Brennan has to do the unthinkable: get a summer job. Overqualified for just about every job for which he applies or under qualified for having no job experience, per se, Brennan bites the bullet and takes a job with old buddy Frigo at the local amusement park, Adventureland.
Adventureland is run by quirky couple, Bobby and Paulette. Brennan meets almost his doppelganger in Joel who shows him the ropes of the "Games" booths. Brennan puts on a show at the horserace game and away in a captive audience is Em. Good-looking musician, Connell, moonlights as the maintenance guy. Then, there's also Lisa P.
At its heart, Adventureland is a love story between Brennan and Em. Both are attracted to each other at first glance. Brennan's attracted to her beauty and her seeming self-confidence. Em's attracted to Brennan's cute and goofy antics and his ridiculously sweet way of stepping on his feet as he talks. At a party at Em's house, ("I'm invited?" asks Brennan. "Yeah," says Em. "That's why I told you.") Em makes a playful play for Brennan in the pool. Brennan, as he is want to do, opts really for talking. Brennan is amazingly candid with his feelings when he speaks to Em, and she's initially taken aback, especially when she learns he's really a romantic and a virgin. Em finds his openness attractive and she's later able to come from behind her seeming shield of confidence and open up to him. There's a real genuineness to the performances, the scenes with these two characters, the development of their relationship, and the little touches, here and there, that's very attractive in Adventureland. The intimacy within the scenes with these two characters never feels forced or trite, and their relationship flows at a leisurely pace. The backdrop of long summer days and nights is a perfect setting for such a love story, and it's quite moving.
Mottola's most interesting thematic touch is the relationship of the parents to their children. Seemingly collateral, it gives the most insight into the characters' makeup, beyond their own words and actions. Em's recently lost her mother to cancer; and while her mother was dying, her father met another woman, who he has now married and she doesn't really care for Em. Connell's mother is a little needy and dramatic, ever since his father split from her. Connell doesn't even know where he went. Lisa P.'s old man lays up at the house injured and is unable to work. She doesn't mention having a mother, so her working at Adventureland seems the only financial help her father is getting. Brennan's mom is the proverbial glue holding her family together: Brennan's father is secretly drinking, while Brennan's watching his future dreams fold, one by one. Kudos to Mottola: it's a masterful touch to his screenplay: it's an extra small step to give his already rich film some depth, and it just goes to show how detailed and well-crafted Adventureland really is.
As for detail, I can speak from experience that in 1987, just about everyone got sick of "Rock Me Amadeus" after the first couple of times hearing it. When Brennan asks Joel do they have to play it twenty times a day? Virtually everyone, including the viewer, is in agreement that it's torturous. The music of the period is perfect in Adventureland, as it's filled with nostalgic tunes, not necessarily of the period's biggest artists. It's the only music played in Adventureland, whether it's on the speaker at the theme park or in Em's car from Brennan's mix tape that he made for her. Mottola's film is shot in contemporary style: natural lighting, arbitrary or contrived compositions, and realistic costumes and make-up. No one personifies the eighties better in Adventureland than Lisa P., from her wardrobe, to her make-up, to her dance moves. A gorgeous film to look at as it is engrossing to watch.
Adventureland is not a completely romantic film nor is it really representative of early adulthood. Absent are some of the very real issues affecting twenty-somethings, such as those who had children and had to grow up really fast. They didn't have a period to find themselves spiritually. Absent also are the ones who struggled with addiction, sexual abuse, and real poverty. Adventureland is a personal and intimate film about love and the awkwardness of early adulthood which will certainly affect everyone on some level. Perhaps, I'm just getting softer with old age, with real life fairly intense most of the time, and I can watch Adventureland and think back that my early twenties was a really magical period, not one that I wish to revisit necessarily, but glad that I experienced what I did and with whom I was with. Adventureland captures that spirit perfectly. See it.

Saturday, August 29, 2009

Mark Neveldine & Brian Taylor's Crank (2006)

Mark Neveldine and Brian Taylor's Crank (2006) is my favorite superhero-cum-antihero film of recent years. Villian Ricky Verona (Jose Pablo Cantillo), often decked out in Joker-ish purple, has left our antihero, Chev Chelios (Jason Statham), a sweet gift: a dvd labeled "Fuck You." As Chev grabs his heart, he watches himself incapacitated on the tube while Verona is giving him an injection of poison of the Chinese-synthetic type, guaranteed to deliver a slow painful death. Shit-talking Verona smirks and wishes our antihero "good-bye," while Chelios summons about every ounce of anger in his body. He hits the streets in his vintage wheels off to kill Verona in the most heart-racingly fashion as possible.
Mark Neveldine and Brian Taylor, a talented writing and directing duo, create a film in video-game, comic-book fashion, which others have tried unsuccessfully, that has all of the alluring aspects of the styles' aesthetics combined with an extremely literate script. The duo wrote an excellent script for the dark thriller, Pathology (2008), directed by Marc Schölermann, which was hampered slightly by a stiff leading actor but was nonetheless a terrific film. Crank, their debut film as writers and directors, initially appears as the type of film geared towards the ADD crowd but it's too focused to be written off as such. The visuals and audio are cutting-edge quality and technology, and the duo integrates myriad styles into the film. Crank has enough retro qualities to prevent the film from being too glossy; and of course, its humor, which is dark and often nasty and very funny, is Crank's biggest allure. Most of the humor is delivered by antihero Chelios in a stellar performance by Statham.
A man on a mission, Chelios is off to look for Verona. At a nearby club, one of Verona's would-be accomplices doesn't know where Verona is but is able to give Chelios some coke and with a little angry attitude, Chelios picks a fight with the club's patrons. The coke and the aggression give our antihero some pep, and when shady Doc Miles (Dwight Yoakam) gives him his cell-phone diagnosis that the poison will kill him if he slows down, Chelios knows that he has to keep a furious pace up in order to exact his revenge. Doc recommends epinephrine, so it's off to the hospital.
Crank opens with a first-person p.o.v., hits the streets for the quick cuts and fast pace in Chelios's vintage wheels (or on foot), which include a trip through the mall Blues Brothers-style, goes underwater for a quick underworld meeting, saturated colors litter interiors, on-screen text beyond subtitles (does Chelios look like he has what written on his forehead), and of course, a bit of blood is going to spray and stream, including the best use of a body shield since Governor Schwarzenegger's stint in Paul Verhoeven's Total Recall (1990). This is just a sample of Neveldine and Taylor's visuals, and their use of audio is both a superior accompaniment and an accomplishment on its own. Some of the fun stuff is watching Chelio's heart slow down before he bursts back into action. With a nifty dissolve, the camera x-rays his chest to show a couple slow pumps but its the heartbeats which ring in the viewer's ears. The audio of the heartbeats throughout Crank are not only a signal of Chelios's mortality but a nifty cue for the next exciting action sequence which often tops the preceding one. The music is a fantastic mix of odd and old jingles from Quiet Riot, an extremely humorous use of Billy Ray Cyrus's "Achy Breaky Heart," Loverboy, and NOFX, for example. Mixed into the soundtrack are little audio touches that break the "fourth wall," such as the use of reverb, cd-skipping sounds on some audio, and classic video game blips. Not least of all, the sound design and construction of the duration of the film would give any mixing board or speakers a work out and it's an impressive display of sound.
Most of the offbeat humor and detail of specific sequences in Crank should really be experienced by its viewer and not related here. I will say however, that Statham gives a tour-de-force performance in Neveldine and Taylor's true coup d'etat of cinema. Statham gives Chelios a sharp and sardonic edge combined with a ferocious intensity and feeling. His soft bits come with his girlfriend, Eve (Amy Smart), and the two actors have an immediate on-screen chemistry. The lighter humor, still punctuated by some nasty bits, comes with these two characters who also deliver one of Crank's most audacious scenes. The dialogue between Chelios and Verona is priceless, as each manages to push the right button to infuriate the other. Their trash talking becomes a version of boys in the schoolyard armed with machine-gun wit. In between all of the fun stuff in Crank, Neveldine and Taylor litter the scenery and random shots with some truly odd compositions. The action sequences are phenomenal, and Crank's overall dark and perverse edge is extremely intriguing and attractive.Neveldine and Taylor delivered a sequel to Crank in 2009 and their forthcoming Gamer (2009) is one of my most-anticipated cinema trips this year. Crank is punk rock cinema played at high volume. I absolutely love this film. See it.

Wednesday, August 26, 2009

Mario Caiano's Bloody Payroll (1976)

Claudio Cassinelli is Raul "The Cat" Montalbani in Mario Caiano's Bloody Payroll (1976). As its English-language title suggests, Montalbani and his crew (including a drug-addicted psycho, Fausto (John Steiner)) head to a local corporation to rob its payroll money, and also as its English-title suggests, the heist doesn't go well. The crew of four manage to smack the employees around a little bit while collecting the dough. The police arrive and two of the crew get away, leaving Montalbani and Fausto inside. The police give chase to the fleeing two, while a hostage standoff happens at the corporation. The two make a successful getaway, along with all of the cash from the heist. Montalbani convinces the police to exchange the hostages for a getaway car and safe passage. The police agree, even though Montalbani's killed one of the hostages and thrown his corpse out the window. With two hostages in tow, Montalbani and Fausto exit, only to inadvertently get spotted by patrolling officers at a gas station. Fausto and Montalbani split. Fausto dies and Montalbani's pissed. This is just the beginning: Bloody Payroll is about get bloodier, as Montalbani's out to get his cash and more importantly, revenge.
Along with Weapons of Death (1977), Mario Caiano delivers with Bloody Payroll, two of the best films of the Italian Eurocrime genre in the 70s. Claudio Cassinelli is one bad motherfu**er as "The Cat," who doesn't care about anybody or anything, except getting his money. Anyone who has seen him play cops, such as in Massimo Dallamano's What Have They Done to Your Daughters? (1974) or little-seen and underrated Umberto Lenzi's Free Hand for a Tough Cop (1976), knows that good-looking and unassuming Cassinelli can play intense and focused. However, when he's on the other side of the law, his character becomes downright nasty. The two thugs that's he's after aren't angels, either; they're going around killing the ones who knew about the heist and their current whereabouts. If Raul manages to find them, they plan on killing him, too. Fortunately for Raul, he finds the getaway-car supplier's girlfriend before his cohorts do. Her name is Leila, played by Silvia Dionisio. She's a pro, and Raul picks her up while she's working. Thinking he's a john, she takes Raul back to her apartment and Raul roughs her up. She gives up the location of the hiding two heisters. Raul's off to confront them, but still, Bloody Payroll has much more to play out.The score is by Gianfranco Plenizio and it's a swinging jazzy score, almost dated by a decade. Save Silvia Dionisio's performance, it's about the only sweet thing in this production. Bloody Payroll is gritty and violent. Even the police scenes, as they track Raul, are played without theatrics: the cops move with an intense investigative focus (also totally credible), because they know how dangerous the criminals are. Caiano drops in some cold compositions that really stick with the viewer:
Caiano also really shows a command of the action sequences of which there are several. The car chase scene after the heist is phenomenal: he uses multiple shots with some crafty editing to make this one (and I've seen a bunch) one of the most exciting that I've ever seen. The violence is hard-hitting and Raul's character (and Cassinelli's performance) is a perfect vehicle for it: one way or the other, he's going to get what he wants. Dionisio's Leila is also an interesting character: she latches on to Raul because she believes he's strong enough to take her out of her current life and into a better one. She's truly incredulous that someone could be so cold and uncaring, even after she plays loving nursemaid and on-call lover to him. Dionisio is a fine actress with some of my favorite performances in Paul Morrissey's Blood for Dracula (1974), and Ruggero Deodato's Wave of Lust (1975), alongside Al Cliver and John Steiner. Bloody Payroll doesn't really roll on what's unexpected: its execution is just done unexpectedly well. See it.

Tuesday, August 25, 2009

Herman Yau's Gong Tau (2007)

Four different opening visual sequences at the beginning:
1. Black and white credit sequences intercut between:

2. A sexy nude woman doing a seductive dance for an unknown onlooker.
3. An intruder in a home, shot partially from the intruder's p.o.v., who disturbingly looks in upon a sleeping baby and then upon a sleeping adult.
4. The beautiful and ominous image of rain at night with a police officer descending the stairs with a title card which reads "Seven Days Later."

These are:

1. Eerie foreshadowing of the visceral and atmospheric horror to come, both disturbing and compelling;
2. A primer of the themes of HK Category III films;
3. The beginning of Gong Tau (2007) by Herman Yau, one of HK's most exciting film makers; and
4. All of the above.

Gong Tau is Chinese black magic. Here we go:

At the police station, Fat Wah is being interrogated by officer Rockman Cheung (Mark Cheng) about a criminal from Malaysia named Lam Chiu (Tak-bun Wong), who thirteen years previously, Cheung shot and arrested for bank robbery. Lam Chiu was released a year ago after a twelve-year sentence, and the police think that Lam Chiu is currently up to no good. Lam Chiu could be pissed about Cheung's shooting him: Lam Chiu's injury left him without the ability to feel physical pain. Cheung gets a cell-phone call from his frantic wife, while Cheung's superior, Sum (Suet Lam) is about to spring Fat Wah for lack of evidence. Cheung's wife is afraid of being alone in the rain, while their newborn baby sleeps in his crib. Cheung should go home, but Sum says that it's Uncle Bill's last night on the job. He's currently standing in the rain, on patrol, at a call box, while Sum and the fellas at the police station have him on speaker phone. Quick cuts show disturbing imagery of chanting and altar-worshipping. Cheung's wife becomes overcome by pain; his baby dies; and Uncle Bill meets an hooded stranger in the rain. Sum and company hear gunshots from Uncle Bill's end of the cell phone. Bill's found strung up in a tree, and Cheung goes home to find his wife in hysterics and an extreme amount of pain and his child dead. Cheung thinks the cop-killing is the work of Lam Chiu, and while Sum doesn't disagree with him, Sum also believes the child murder is the work of black magic. Cheung's wife, Karpi (Maggie Siu) is hexed, and Lam Chiu is targeting Cheung in an act of revenge.This is the initial set up for Gong Tau, and for the viewer who is willing to go further, an exciting thriller plays out with truly horrific and unexpected elements. Be forewarned: the act of infanticide is truly disturbing and is not hidden away from the camera. About every bodily fluid produced by the human body is released, spilled, and cooked and rendered in Gong Tau, and at times, the imagery is truly repellent. However, Gong Tau is an amazingly well-scripted thriller also which is as compelling to watch as it is, at times, disturbingly repellent. The visuals are often brilliant, as well as the pacing and performances. Cheung is a character torn: his wife needs him both emotionally and physically but his anger is propelling him towards finding the killer. Sum puts his hand on his shoulder at the window in a fraternal quiet scene at the police station. Sum begins to tell Cheung about the Gong Tau, and then BAM! a cop comes from atop the stairs and says Lam Chiu is on the phone asking for Cheung. With a nifty audio cue and quick camera follow up the stairs, within seconds Yau changes the tone and ups the excitement. Not only is Cheung's character torn emotionally, it is later revealed that he has quite the interesting recent past. This revelation moves the film in an entirely different direction and was unexpected and quite welcomed.Yau's talent visually is apparent. Still in demand as a cinematographer for others' productions (for example, Dennis Law's Fatal Contact (2006) and Fatal Move (2008), who also executive-produced, here), Yau demonstrates with Gong Tau his mastery of the use of light and dark, effectively at the foreshadowing at the beginning and in the very intense final act. The lighting is so well-done in Gong Tau that it looks as if Yau pointed at the shadows and said, "You sit there," and to the light, "You stay there." His camera movement appropriately captures the emotion of a scene: true visual storytelling. When the goings on in Gong Tau are quiet, I was never prepared for any of the shifts in tone and was literally at the edge of my seat. Finally, there are some scenes that I can't describe why they are so effective. One scene stands out: a drug deal of two men both in hoodies. What the two are dealing ain't the typical street ones (at least not on my block). The hoodies are common attire, but the overwhelming feeling of the exchange is extremely creepy. Superficially, it's just two guys talking in a dark alley in a static shot: I don't know, but maybe, Yau's got his own visual mojo working.Maggie Siu is really vulnerable as Cheung's wife, Karpi: her character has to experience the majority of the terror and also bear the strongest pain and emotions. In a fantastic scene with Cheng, the two parents let their emotions out about the death of their child. It's raw and genuine and it's a scene which takes Gong Tau completely out of the sensational and exploitative arena. Johnnie To-regular, Suet Lam is one of the best actors working in Hong Kong today: Lam has a true command of the entire dramatic range of emotions and is entirely charismatic on screen. He's phenomenal. Tak-bun Wong's performance as Lam Chiu deserves praise as well: his character is appropriately sleazy but has some real depth as well.Once again, with Gong Tau, Herman Yau proves he's one of the most talented working in Hong Kong today. No matter what the subject matter or the budget, Yau cannot hide his talent, and I'll be damned if his films aren't exciting.

Monday, August 24, 2009

Ferdinando Baldi's War Bus (1985)

The little yellow school bus. It inspires images of happy and laughing children, going to and coming from school, and LeVar Burton and Reading Rainbow. It's truly jarring to imagine one in the middle of the jungle, during the Vietnam War, specifically its end with the withdrawal of U.S. troops. The little yellow school bus is filled with missionaries and mercenaries and a South Vietnamese major: their mission and school has been overrun by North Vietnamese forces, shown in an exciting firefight at the beginning. With a little fuel, some wire mesh on the windows, and few bullets, the motley crew escapes the clutches of the North Vietnamese. A few twists and turns and the bus stops. Three marines emerge from the jungle led by Sgt. Dixie (Daniel Stephen) and they are going to commandeer the bus. The marines have been separated from their platoon and desperately need to find a friendly base to withdraw from the combat zone. Major, says Sgt. Dixie, since there's no more joint command, we're taking this bus. And going to get into some adventures, too, in Ferdinando Baldi's War Bus (1985).War Bus runs on emotion and simplicity: the thinnest of plotlines to tie together the action sequences, with some very clever touches however, and characters, dialogue, and imagery to inspire empathy/sympathy to all of the film's participants (save the North Vietnamese Army). After successfully commandeering the bus, the marines turn the bus south, away from enemy territory. The trio has a tip that there's still a friendly base nearby and want to check it out. Major Kutran (Ernie Zarate) wants to help the marines make a quick exit, so he can get himself and the others to safety. The bus has little fuel and really cannot make it anywhere far like Da Nang. After a botched crossing at a river bank, lined with landmines, the marine trio splits on foot to explore the nearby base, while the bus coasts on fumes going nowhere fast. The marines discover after nightfall, that the base is now in the hands of the enemy, and completely desperate, the three attack the base in an exciting sequence filled with stealthy kills, gunfire, and grenade explosions to get another vehicle. The little yellow school bus arrives to rescue the marines when the fight becomes too heavy. The marines escape on the bus, having also gained some drums of fuel and some friends: realizing that the terrain is too uncertain with unexpected hostility nearly everywhere, all have to unite to survive.
Veteran Italian genre director, Ferdinando Baldi creates a real Italian 80s action classic with War Bus. Baldi like his contemporaries cut his teeth on Westerns and made some great ones: Texas, addio (1966) with Franco Nero, Hate Thy Neighbor (1968) with George Eastman, and perhaps his most well-known, the strange and unique Blindman (1971) with Tony Anthony, for example. One of his most notorious films is the George Eastman-scripted Terror Express (1979), a Last House on the Left-ish sleaze picture set on a train, starring lovely Silvia Dionisio. Indisputably, Baldi can craft action and bring strong emotion and delivers with War Bus. In one of the best sequences of the film, the bus stops at a mountainside and notices dead marines tied to stakes, littered on the mountainside. Unfortunately, the marines cannot free their dead comrades, because the corpses have all been filled with explosives as a trap. Angered and inspired, they decide to ignite the traps to free their comrades' souls, and this emotional scene segues into another exciting fire fight with the North Vietnamese.With the little downtime from the action sequences in the approximately eighty-minute film, Baldi fills War Bus with scenes of sexual tension between the females and males on the bus, blossoming romance between some, and moments of pure emotion, such as when a missionary tells her story about why she became who she is. While the characters' emotions are not really complex, they are certainly pure; and when the conclusion builds to its crescendo, in another exciting firefight, the emotions of camaraderie fuel the exciting final explosive action. Setting the film during the withdrawal of U.S. troops during the Vietnam War is a nice creative touch: none of the characters know what is lurking around any of the jungle, so every encounter is unexpected. The setting also makes all of the characters desperate: since the War is nearly over, there are no two sides fighting a war: "it's every man for himself." The characters' union isn't inherently born from the plot, it's actually created from their actions. Exciting and action-packed, War Bus is fantastic 80s action from Italy. Well worth seeking out for fans of the genre. See it.

Sunday, August 23, 2009

Fernando di Leo's The Violent Breed (1984)

"Children, don't be frightened...I'm here to take you home," says CIA operative, Kirk Cooper (Henry Silva). Cooper's leading a secret mission to free some hostage children, smack during the middle of the Vietnam War, along with his operative buddies, Mike Martin (Harrison Muller) and Polo (Woody Strode). Surreptitiously, the crew gets in successfully, rescues the children, and takes out the enemy. Unfortunately, Silva's Cooper takes a bullet in the chest. Mike and Polo stop to do some roadside surgery on Cooper on the way to the rendez-vous. Before exiting, Polo takes Mike and Cooper's rifles and tells them that he's staying in Vietnam. Mike and Cooper split. "Why didn't he kill us?" asks Mike. "That was a mistake," answers Cooper.
Cut to modern times, e.g. 1984, in New York for Fernando di Leo's The Violent Breed (1984), one of the last films from one of the finest Italian directors of his time. The opening war sequence set up a very intriguing story, at least on paper: Silva's Cooper has risen to the top of the CIA, while Strode's Polo has become very successful in Southeast Asia. Polo runs a ring located near the Cambodia/Thailand/Laos borders, where he buys arms from the KGB to sell to Cambodian guerrillas who use the arms against Chinese-trained Vietnamese. Polo takes his profits to buy drugs in Thailand and sells them to the mafia, who distribute the drugs in the US. Muller's Mike is in the middle and is the typical di Leo protagonist: happy-go-lucky by nature but caught in between the exertion of power from both sides (here Cooper and Polo). When the pressure of the powers comes upon him, Mike, in di Leo fashion is going to play a bit: be evasive when confronted, confrontational when it's unexpected, violent and/or loving when necessary, and live life as if it's his last day. So when Silva summons Mike in for a game of handball and shop talk, Mike asks Cooper: so what do you want me to do about Polo? Deliver a message for me, says Cooper.Mike is sleeping with sexy Sharon Morris (Carole André) and doesn't tell her what he does for a living. Sharon's sunbathing when Mike tells her that he's going to be gone for a while, can't tell her where he is going, or when he is coming back. Expectedly mad, Sharon tells Mike that she won't be here when he gets back. Mike flies off to Bangkok to meet with his contact, Madame Fra (Danika La Loggia) of the local whorehouse which supplies Polo's camp with ladies; and isn't Mike surprised when down in the lobby of his hotel, Sharon meets Mike for a beer. Mike's expectedly mad and takes out for his mission. While at the whorehouse, Mike meets a pretty local prostitute and takes a bath. The next morning, on foot and in his jeans and t-shirt, Mike walks to Polo's camp, only to get ambushed and captured. Polo walks in on Mike and asks him as if he's seen him just yesterday, "What are you doing here Mike?" Mike wants to make an offer.
During the 1980s action films with political and social themes were nothing new (e.g. Ted Kotcheff's First Blood (1982) or Joseph Zito's Missing in Action (1984)). Di Leo's cinema is full of his unique socio-political views, not least of all, his total disdain for conformity and authority. Silva's always shown smiling and on the phone and well-dressed, while Polo's always with a machine gun, often in a hurry, and a man of few words: in one scene, a henchman picks up Polo from a business meeting with the Russians en route to meet the captured Mike. In the jeep, Polo spies some locals on the side of the road and the two have this exchange:
Polo: Who are they?
Henchman: Oh, farmers who don't like working in the fields or try to sell their own or just don't produce much.
Polo: Well?
Henchman: They're supposed to be shot.
Polo: What are you waiting for?
Henchman: Your order.
Strode's Polo stands from the passenger seat of the jeep and guns down the locals. It's a defining scene for his character, but you can also get the sense of how di Leo views those in power (also it's a two to three shot take showing di Leo's mastery of a low budget). Mike, with his murder eminent by Polo and/or the Russians, asks for a beer, preferably a cold one. He also asks Polo, unequivocally and sincerely, you want to untie me? Mike doesn't question Polo or Cooper's motive: they're two sides of power of the same coin. Mike's really like everyone else just caught in the middle of the two's struggle and it's typically meaningless to try to win. The offer that Mike wants to make is unknown as to whether its genuine. Even if the offer's genuine, it probably is not going to matter. Mike's acceptance and/or rejection of his role in this power struggle can be seen by the viewer in the film's final scene.
Not only did the 1980s bring socially- and politically-minded action films, the cinema also did and was expected to, bring the action sequences. The bigger the better the explosions and more bullets, the merrier. The Violent Breed falls short in this area and is probably why it is one of the least regarded in di Leo's canon. Save the opening rescue sequence, where the characters are wearing the local threads from the army surplus store and playing soldiers, a brief martial arts exhibition by Mike on some unexpected guests outside his Bangkok hotel room, and the final sequence, where Mike takes on Polo and company, the action sequences lack the money for the big explosions. The action of The Violent Breed can't quite compare to its Italian or American contemporaries.Silva and Strode are reunited from their earlier di Leo collaboration, Manhunt (1972), where they played a pair of nasty hitmen. Muller and Strode made two films together in 1984, this one and one of the better films to come out of the Italian post-apocalyptic wasteland, Romolo Guerrieri's The Final Executioner. The Violent Breed is only for the diehard di Leo fans.