Daughter of Darkness (1993)

Ah, Category III Hong Kong cinema; How does one sell this onscreen depravity to the uninitiated?  Perhaps, determining if you’re already a fan of trash cinema from other regions of the world is the best place to start.  Specifically, films from Italy and Japan during the 1970’s & 80’s.  If you’re a fan of films such as The New York Ripper, Night Train Murders, White Rose Campus, and Rape! 13^th Hour then Category III films are the next logical step in your education of trashy world cinema.

The Category III film Daughter of Darkness from 1993 is not a bad place to start, but probably not as infamous as say Red to Kill or Ebola Syndrome.  Daughter of Darkness may not reach the heights, or depths depending on your perspective, of those films but it certainly delivers the violence and debauchery that they’re known for.

Viewers going into Daughter of Darkness for the first time expecting extreme sex and violence right from the jump may be confused for the first half an hour or so, as it kind of plays out like a twisted, slapstick sex-comedy.  We are introduced to an overly animated and extremely pervy police detective played by the always entertaining Anthony Wong.  Right from the start, Wong is giving a completely over-the-top performance with extremely animated facial expressions that would make Jim Carrey blush.  When a young girl named Fong enters the police station claiming that she has discovered her entire family murdered in their home, our story is set in motion and it’s going to be a wild and shocking ride to the end.

It's during the beginning of Wong’s murder investigation where we get the majority of the comedic bits.  Wong’s character is a Chinese Mainland detective and there’s some less than subtle commentary going on with his very goofy performance.  He enters the crime scene like a bull in a china shop; walking directly through blood, posing for pictures with the bodies, and just generally disrupting the crime scene and destroying evidence.  We also get to see what an absolute pervert Wong’s character is and his fascination with breasts during these opening scenes!  The character of Officer Lui is setup as a morally corrupt buffoon but he eventually shows that he’s a fairly effective investigator and a somewhat likable character by the end.

Once Officer Lui gets around to questioning Fong about the massacre of her family, he quickly realizes that her story doesn’t add up.  At this point in the film it becomes kind of a wacky procedural with Lui getting himself into some silly situations as he interviews the locals about Fong and her family.  Lui eventually learns that a fellow police officer named Kin is somehow involved in this crime and that’s when the story starts to turn dark.  It’s discovered that Kin and Fong are romantically linked and that they had planned to run off to Hong Kong to get married and escape the abusive home life that Fong was experiencing with her family.  When Lui presses Kin on his involvement and the fact that the bullets used in the murders come from a police issued gun, Kin confesses to the crimes.  This, however, doesn’t sit well with Lui.  So, he decides to once again interrogate Fong to find out what really happened that fateful night.

Like other Category III films, such as Dr. Lamb and The Untold Story, the horrific details are told through flashback, and boy are they horrific!  Fong’s home life with her family is a living nightmare!  She is verbally and emotionally abused by her mother and siblings and physically harmed by her father (possibly step-father (?)).  Rape, incest, and torture playout on screen before we reach the ultra-violent demise of this foul family.  One can never hear the song “Row, Row, Row Your Boat” the same after witnessing this shocking and appalling scene.  This entire sequence is definitely where the film earns its Category III status.  The whole thing ends tragically and will leave you with a feeling of hopelessness.  No doubt, this is an exploitation film, first and foremost, but there is a halfhearted attempt towards social commentary concerning Mainland China, specifically their judicial system and the way everything concludes with the case at the very end of the film.

Daughter of Darkness is a very solid exploitation film and a prime example of what some of the more infamous Category III films have to offer.  It’s a bit uneven in terms of the tonal shift that the film makes about a third of the way through, but that’s also what makes the film interesting.  I would probably recommend something like Run and Kill or The Untold Story to those looking to dip their toe into the cesspool of Category III, but this isn’t a bad place to start either.

MVT: Anthony Wong and William Ho as the sadistic father are both entertaining to watch, but both characters are a bit one note.  Lily Chung as Fong shows a bit more diversity and really earns the MVT.  A brave performance that isn’t simply a victim in this film.

Make or Break Scene: Opening – Anthony Wong’s entrance to the crime scene.  Goofy antics amongst a bloodbath of a murder scene.

Score: 7/10

Dark Waters (1993)

Directed by Mariano Baino
Run Time: 94 minutes


The word that's used a lot describe this movie is Lovecraftian and it does check just about every box on themes found in the works of H.P. Lovecraft. There's a creepy forgotten island, a cultish group hiding a secret, something evil and menacing just lurking out of sight, and the always necessary book of occult knowledge. However this movie has more in common with Argento's Suspiria and Inferno and Fulci's The Beyond and The House by the Cemetery than any of Lovecraft's works. As the overall feel and look of this film has more in common with a supernatural gaillo with Lovecraft elements than a film about horror and terror beyond human understanding.




The movie opens in the early 1970's with a group of nuns standing on a cliff holding crosses. These are nuns belong to the order of the artist nuns and will be found through out the film holding crosses in scenic locations. The focus of the scene is on a nun who's a fan of upside down crosses and a priest who looks like a low budget young stand in for Harvey Keitel. The nun is given a creepy mcguffin plate (like the one in the image at the top of the page) by a young girl and the priest is reading a book of forbidden lore during a violent rain storm. These actions cause a point of view killer to hunt down the nun and the priest in quite beautiful and grim ways to die. The room where the priest is in becomes flooded due to the violence of the rain storm and dies either from the point of view killer or a floating cross.

The nun, being the smarter of the two character, waits until the rain stops and then becomes point of view killer bait. Hoping that high cliffs may scare off the pov killer, the nun holds the evil mcguffin disk and shows it to the ocean. However the pov killer is a quick climber and shoves the nun off the cliff to her death.

Jump twenty years later and we are introduced to Elizabeth. A young woman who grew up on this strange island but after her mother's death left with her father to live in London. Upon her father's death she discovered that her father had been making payments to the order of the artist nuns. So Elizabeth decides to kill two cliches with one action by ignoring her father dying wish and visit the island where she was born. This sends her on the path to pull apart the mystery of the nuns and the terrible secret they hide.

On one hand this is a beautiful and dark film to watch. From the first to last frame this movie is full of memorable moving imagery. Along the lines of Salvator Rosa's Witches that are alive. Then there is the other side of this movie which is made of bullet riddled scraps of paper that masquerades as the plot. Mariano Baino clearly was inspired by Lovecraft and Argento but the narrative is all over the place. The nuns are a menacing force through out the film but it is never clear why. The point of view killer has nothing to do with the plot and just seems to be there to kill people at random. Which leads to the most unforgivable part of this movie, Lovecraft threats are at their best when they are not seen. I can't go into detail without spoiling it but this movie would have been better if the nameless evil was seen less.

That being said it is a solid rental movie and enjoyable dark gothic visual ride with a few bumps here and there.

MVT: The location and (I assume) the residents in the area were the movie was shot. It went a long way to selling feel and atmosphere.

Make or Break: The scene with Elizabeth in her bright red raincoat climbing up a rain swept stairs towards the monastery went a long way to selling me on this movie.

Score: 5.8 out of 10

8 Man After (1993)

It’s been a while since the original 8 Man disappeared.  Now, psychotic criminals dubbed Cyber Junkies are grafting cybernetic parts and weapons onto their bodies and running amok.  Private dick Hazama (Jurota Kosugi) finds himself embroiled in this conflict between humans and cyborgs while searching for a missing scientist.  And just in the nick of time, 8 Man returns, but is he the same man he was before?

8 Man was created in 1963 by Kazumasa Hirai and Jiro Kuwata.  It jumped from manga to anime to live action and back again.  Originally aimed at kids, the character moved more and more into violent vigilante territory, and that’s where 8 Man After lands.  The first thing that pops out to the viewer while watching this movie (actually a collection of four OVA episodes edited together) is that it hews very closely to Paul Verhoeven’s Robocop (other hyperviolent cyborg anime, notwithstanding).  The initial 8 Man was a cop like Murphy.  Mr. Daigo fills the Dick Jones spot, and his Bio Techno company mirrors OCP, in presence, if not specificity.  He even has a scale model of the utopian city he wants to build on top of the scummy city that currently surrounds him.  After Hazama is killed in a violent altercation with a criminal (the film’s Clarence Boddicker), he is transformed into the new 8 Man.  The violence itself is incredibly bloody, and the villains are all out of their minds (though here there is no sense of humor about any of it).  8 Man has flashbacks to his past life as a normal human and the trauma that he suffered.  There are a handful of 8 Man POV shots in Heads-Up-Display style that waver as he fights against his urge to kill.  Sachiko (Mika Doi) is the Officer Lewis character but only in the sense that she’s female.  She was the wife of the first 8 Man and is the ostensible romantic interest for Hazama, but, oddly enough, both of these roles are hardly explored at all in the story.  In fact, most of the elements that make this interesting (those that are different from Robocop) are barely touched on.  

Directors Sumiyoshi Furakawa and Yoriyasu Kogawa and company felt it more important to focus on the livelier aspects of the premise (read: the violence), though there are still things here to talk about other than its mimic origins.  One of the biggest, for me, is the idea of violence as a way of life.  This is a world steeped in violence on both sides of the law.  The first time we meet Hazama, he is causing a ruckus at Bio Techno and leading the company’s security guys on a merry chase through the streets (which ends abruptly).  There is a shootout between the cops and a Cyber Junkie at a market, and the bodies of innocent bystanders lie around the scene in pools of blood.  Tony, 8 Man’s nemesis, rips open Sachiko’s blouse and pokes her throat with his arm blade, causing a trickle of blood to flow down between her breasts and soak into her bra.  8 Man doesn’t just defeat or incapacitate his enemies.  He literally tears them apart.  With his super speed, he slashes at their arms and legs, disabling them.  Then, he squeezes their cybernetic extremities until they explode in geysers of blood and metal.  Intriguingly, this concept of ingrained cultural violence is best exemplified in the football sequence (ironically, the part I like the least because the subplot that it follows up on is superfluous and a little irritating, and I just don’t care about sports, anyway).  The local team is loaded up with cybernetics and drugs (an anti-rejection number that has the unintended/intended consequence of making its users go batshit).  They not only destroy their opposition but also turn on the audience, tearing into them.  They are inflicting violence on the people who came to watch violence, turning the spectators into unwilling participants.  There is no escape from violence in the world of 8 Man After, directly or indirectly.

There is also the concept of the corruption or failure of good intentions.  The cybernetic parts were originally developed to help people.  They were meant to be prosthetic replacements for amputees.  But instead of new limbs for misfortunates, they became a go-to enhancement for violent criminals so they could rule the streets.  Now, they can shoot bullets from their palms, missiles from their backs, and rockets from their knees, and the drugs they have to take to maintain their grafts only enhance their madness.  O’Connor, the missing father that young Sam hired Hazama to find, is one of the cyber-football players.  He sees this as a last chance to make it big and provide for his boy.  Instead, he becomes a demented cyber-thug, even striking his own flesh and blood.  Though Hazama doesn’t exactly volunteer to become 8 Man, he wants to do good as the cyborg.  However, his emotions are a drawback for him.  According to the Professor who created him, Hazama’s feelings “contaminated” the 8 Man cybernetics, and Hazama himself is considered a “system failure” that makes 8 Man go berserk, the same as those he opposes.  He is the anti-rejection drug with the horrible side effects.  To be more efficient, more obedient, he must lose his identity to the 8 Man, become a synthesis of the two rather than one who changes into the other.  The road to Hell is paved with good intentions and robotic body parts.

The animation in 8 Man After looks very good, and the action sequences shine.  The central conflict of the story is compelling, and there are more than enough crazy things to maintain interest (like a talking brain in a jar, say).  The main problem is that the narrative is overly convoluted.  This is compounded, I’m assuming, by its original episodic nature.  By that, I mean that it is too willing to develop various subplots that don’t tie into the main story strongly enough, are dismissed before being satisfyingly tied up, or are poorly integrated in terms of pacing, forgetting what the core story is about.  In my opinion, this would have worked better as a tightened down, ninety-minute feature rather than a sprawling, four-episode series.  Still, it’s entertaining, and I enjoy watching it from time to time.  You might, too.

MVT:  The 8 Man is nicely designed and animated, and it’s fun seeing him do his thing.

Make or Break:  The introduction of hip, young Sam may push some folks over the edge.

Score:  6.75/10       

Wilder Napalm (1993)

I used to frequent a pizza place that, to this day, has never been topped, and no one I ever talk to is even aware of its existence.  The place is called Mama’s Pizzeria, and it is located on Belmont Avenue in Philadelphia.  It’s in an inconspicuous building with limited parking.  The hours of operation are also odd (hey, maybe the joint is a front; Considering the quality of the eats, who am I to judge?).  Inside, there is a small room for takeout orders and a couple of tables for people to dine.  Up a narrow stairway is the main dining room.  I never once ordered a pizza from Mama’s, but I also never needed to.  Rather, they make what is, in my opinion, the single best cheesesteak in the universe.  This delicacy was a little over a foot long, and for around ten dollars, it had more meat and cheese than you can comfortably fit into a human stomach (and colon).  I used to order these things, and it was all I would eat for a weekend.  I don’t know if the caliber of their cheesesteaks has held up some twenty-odd years later, but just the thought of one of those things makes me hungry even now (and I just ate).  The reason I’m promoting cheesesteaks from Mama’s in a review of Glenn Gordon Caron’s Wilder Napalm is because the restaurant had nothing but clown art decorating its walls, and in this film, one of the characters is a clown by profession (a thin connection, sure, but that’s expected from me).  That, and I miss Mama’s cheesesteaks and wanted to extoll their virtues.

Wilder and Wallace Foudroyant (adjective – Striking as with lightning; sudden and overwhelming in effect; stunning; dazzling) haven’t seen each other in five years.  Wilder (Arliss Howard) has a crummy job, but he is also a volunteer firefighter.  His wife Vida (Debra Winger) is a firebug who is due up for release from her house arrest in a few days.  Brother Wallace (Dennis Quaid) is a circus clown who rolls into town on his way to The Big Time and stirs up old resentments and tensions.  And both brothers are pyrokinetic.

Aside from the basic idea of sibling rivalry, the film deals with the dueling desires for normality and notoriety.  Wilder craves a quiet life.  He wears a tie and jacket to work at a Fotomat knockoff in an empty parking lot (guess where the circus sets up shop).  He volunteers to call BINGO at the local rec center (the film is set in Midlothian, and I assume it’s the one in Virginia, not Scotland).  When he is paged to a fire, he stops to hang his jacket on a hanger and lock the work booth door behind him.  To lose control is unacceptable because it irresponsible.  The exception to that rule is when he has sex with Vida, which can get pretty wild, apparently.  Wallace, of course, is the antithesis of Wilder.  He uses his power freely, zapping flies, melting air conditioners, and so forth.  He wants to be famous, to be “somebody.”  His big dream is to appear on Late Night with David Letterman and get rich.  Wallace likes to have fun.  When Vida’s house arrest is over, it’s Wallace who takes her out on the town.  Vida, being the tether between the two, responds to both positively.  She has genuine affection for Wilder and appreciates that he’s a solid guy (he lost a decent job because of her but never resented her for it), though she also feels constrained in their relationship to some degree.  By that same token, she’s attracted to the wild side of Wallace, who knows what she likes.  She is a musician (a cellist, not a rock ‘n roller), and she loves hanging out on top of her and Wilder’s trailer home.  She sets fires just to get the fire crew to come to her house, so she can see Wilder (she’s also an arsonist, thus explaining why she’s enthralled by the Brothers Foudroyant).  The thing about the brothers’ antagonism is that neither is one hundred percent wrong.  Wilder thinks that exposing their powers will only bring harm to them both (“You read Firestarter, didn’t ya?!”) on top of the physical dangers of it (there is a very good reason for this).  Wallace realizes that he and his brother are unique, and, if done correctly, his gift can be used to benefit himself.  The two are so dug in on their positions, that they can’t see the value of the other’s perspective.

For my money, Wilder Napalm could easily have been one of the first Marvel Comics theatrical releases (you know, if it had anything whatsoever to do with Marvel).  Screenwriter Vince Gilligan (who would write quite a few episodes of The X-Files but is far better known for creating and executive producing Breaking Bad and Better Call Saul) and director Caron (also a television alumnus, having created Moonlighting and Medium) understand what makes Marvel’s characters work so well, even if they don’t refer directly to them.  That is, they are people who have real problems to deal with on a daily basis who also just so happen to be superheroes (Wallace has a costume for his Dr. Napalm alter ego, and Wilder sort of gets one by the end).  The most interesting things in Marvel comic books are usually not the obligatory slugfests but the interactions between the characters as they wend their way through their melodramatic lives (true to fashion, this movie contains both).  Borrowing heavily from the famous Stan Lee wisdom of “…in this world, with great power there must also come - - great responsibility,” the filmmakers use the brothers as foils to illustrate this point.  Further, their powers are secondary to their interrelationships while also representing the core of what is between all three of them (when the brothers get worked up, things tend to melt and boil). 

The film is quirky in both good and bad ways.  Four firemen are also an acapella group who provide a chorus for Wilder (they sing a nice version of The Ink Spots’ “I Don’t Want to Set the World on Fire”). Character actors Stuart Varney and M Emmett Walsh both turn up in small but effective roles as the circus owner and the fire chief, respectively.    There is the dry humor of Wilder’s character as he paces through his days (Arliss Howard has always excelled at this).  Winger is genuinely charming as the earnest free spirit.  Wallace, while in his clown persona of Biff, is both unsettling and a tad menacing.  That said, the fighting between the boys turns a little too slapstick at times (there is not only a bonk on the head from a pipe but also a fire extinguisher to the face).  Further, Quaid really overdoes the histrionics most of the time in an attempt to act funny, something which never works.  He even jumps up and down like Yosemite Sam at one point.  Still, the film is breezy, the pyrotechnics are truly impressive, and overall, it’s a very satisfying experience when it’s firing on all cylinders.

MVT:  The originality going on in the script (remember, this was 1993) is admirable.

Make or Break:  The finale cuts loose emotionally and physically, and even though, we know how it will turn out, it still works a treat.

Score:  7.25/10