LITTLE DRAGON MAIDEN (1983) ***

A noble household takes in a reckless beggar they find poisoned in the streets.  The lady of the house feels responsible for his father’s death, so she urges her father to teach him Kung Fu.  During his training, the beggar is beaten senseless and leaves the house with debilitating injuries.  He is nursed back to health by the magical “Dragon Girl” who eventually agrees to train him.  This causes friction with her clan, who forbid handing down their teachings to men.

For the first hour or so, you’ll swear Little Dragon Maiden is just like every other Shaw Brothers Kung Fu movie you’ve ever seen.  It’s got guys in flowing robes punching each other, old beggars doing stupid comic relief shtick, training montages, beautiful women getting into fights in restaurants, and scenes of people flying around on wires.  The action is well done for the most part.  The choreography is decent, although it pales in comparison to some of the Shaw Brothers’ best stuff.  The scenes with the cool weaponry, like the spinning boomerang buzz saw, is more fun than the hand to hand stuff.  

Then, after about an hour, the acid starts to kick in and Little Dragon Maiden turns into an entirely different sort of animal.  Speaking of animals, this is probably the first movie I’ve ever seen that has a Kung Fu Chicken in it.  Yes, you read that right.  A Kung Fu Chicken.  It might come a little late in the game, but when the bodies start dropping, the Kung Fu Chicken starts tossing swords, heads get decapitated, people are cut in half lengthwise, and enemies start exploding, insanity rules.  I guess the fact that it was directed by Hua (The Super Infra-Man) Shan should’ve told me this wasn’t going to be just an ordinary Kung Fu flick.

Much of this is out of whack.  The term “Uneven” doesn’t even begin to do it justice.  The fantasy elements are ill-fitting with the more traditional Kung Fu scenes.  While the stuff with the Dragon Girl is handled well enough, her story is just no match for the hero’s run-ins with the six-foot Kung Fu Chicken in the third act.  If you have any problems making it through the first hour or so, trust me, hang in there.  Those Kung Fu Chicken scenes are something to see.  I’m not saying the Kung Fu Chicken saves the movie or anything, it’s just… okay… it saves the movie.

You know, just when I think I’ve seen it all… I haven’t.  

I don’t even know why they bothered to call this Little Dragon Maiden.  They should’ve called it Kung Fu Chicken.  It would’ve made a billion dollars domestic.  Easily.  Heck, the little dragon maiden isn’t even a real dragon lady.  The Kung Fu Chicken is a literal chicken who knows Kung Fu… and a six-foot tall one at that.

SHOCK CINEMA VOLUME 2 (1991) ***

The second installment in Scream Queen Brinke Stevens’ Shock Cinema series is even better than the first.  The format varies slightly from the template of its predecessor.  This time, Brinke interviews an eclectic pool of subjects known for their work in front of and behind the camera.  The range of talent runs from Scream Queens (Melissa Moore) to screenwriters (Ted Newsom) and special effects artists (Michael Burnett).  

Brinke gets more screen time in this volume, which is always a good thing.  I especially liked her intro, which takes place in a video store (where several of her films are prominently displayed).  The highlight is her face to face interview with Forrest J. Ackerman in his Ackermansion.  Some might be disappointed that Ackerman talks more about his film appearances than the creation of his Famous Monsters of Filmland magazine, but I’m sure he got a kick out of it.  Not only is the interview (which occurs about halfway through) fun, it also helps to break up the talking head format a bit.

There is a wealth of interesting stories here.  Director Gary Graver talks about getting cheated out of money from distributors, Robert Quarry has some good anecdotes about the making of Count Yorga, and Deanna Lund bemoans the use of body doubles.  (She doesn’t mention the title by name, but I can only assume she was talking about her role in the immortal Elves.)  The most flabbergasting tidbit:  Hearing Newsom being touted as the screenwriter for “the upcoming Spider-Man movie” (although he claims he blew all his Spider-Man money making his own film). 

DIABOLIK (1968) ** ½

Mario Bava’s eye-popping, colorful, mod, but frustratingly uneven psychedelic adventure plays like a mash-up of Batman and James Bond.  Both franchises were ultra-hip at the time, and fans of their respective series will probably have fun spotting how Bava liberally sprinkles their influences about the screen.  It’s nowhere near as good as some of Bava’s horror films of the decade, however, it’s neat to see what he could accomplish with a broader canvas and a bigger budget.

John Philip Law (who appeared in producer Dino De Laurentiis’ other big budget comic book movie of 1968, Barbarella) stars as Diabolik, a daring thief who lives in an underground lair with his sexy girlfriend/assistant (Marisa Mell).  The cops try to entrap him by putting a valuable emerald necklace on display.  Diabolik easily snatches it but finds himself behind a rock and a hard place when the leader of a criminal syndicate (Adolfo Celi) kidnaps his girlfriend, hoping to make a switch for the necklace.

Diabolik is fun in fits and starts.  It’s at its best during the sequences when Law dons a skintight outfit and dangles perilously from rooftops and castle walls.  I also dug the parts that shamelessly rip off Batman, such as the scene where Diabolik sabotages a press conference by using “Exhilarating Gas”, as well as his Batcave-inspired hideout (where he makes love to Mell in a pile full of money).

The biggest stumbling block is the character of Diabolik himself.  As portrayed by Law, he’s more or less an emotionless cypher that draws no sympathy from the audience.  I guess they were trying to make him into a badass antihero, but Law’s wooden performance does very little to make you root for him.  

AKA:  Danger:  Diabolik.  

SHOCK CINEMA VOLUME 1 (1991) ***

Scream Queen Brinke Stevens produced and hosts this entertaining look at low budget horror filmmaking.  Some of the hardest working horror directors of the '80s and '90s are interviewed and they all give informative and insight commentary on the perils and pitfalls of low budget moviemaking.  Some of the interviewees have more prominent credits than others, but nearly all of them have entertaining stories to tell.  

Fred Olen (Hollywood Chainsaw Hookers) Ray is the most fun to listen to.  He’s very forthright about his career and makes several interesting points about the logistics of low budget filmmaking.  He probably deserves his own documentary.  Some directors, like Jeff (Leatherface:  The Texas Chainsaw Massacre 3) Burr have experience working with bigger budgets and high-profile studios and mostly hate it.  The more DIY type of directors like J.R. (The Dead Next Door) Bookwalter are engaging too, mostly because they’re working with even less time and money.

One thing connects them, and that’s their passion for film.  They are all uniform on their advice to young filmmakers:  Grab a camera and make your own movie, which is heartening.  

If there is a fault, it’s that Brinke pretty much disappears after her intro.  While I do wish shee had more of a presence throughout the documentary (which only runs about an hour), the directors are entertaining enough on their own to sustain your interest.  

Other volumes in the series followed.

JAILBAIT BABYSITTER (1977) **

Therese Pare stars as a teenager who likes to do a lot of heavy petting with her boyfriend while babysitting.  Naturally, he gets steamed when she doesn’t go all the way.  One night while babysitting, her friends crash the place and throw an impromptu toga party.  When her employers find out, she runs off into the night and stumbles upon a high-priced hooker (Lydia Wagner) who lets her stay with her in her luxurious mansion.  She then tries to take Therese under her wing and turn her into a prostitute, much to the chagrin of her boyfriend.

Directed by John (Grave of the Vampire) Hayes, Jailbait Babysitter is one of those ‘70s sexploitation films that offers up more tease than please.  The nude scenes and sensual depictions of the sexual acts are few and far between, and when they do occur, they aren't especially scintillating.  Despite the lurid title, it rarely, if ever delivers on the promise of lowbrow drive-in thrills.  I mean her first john winds up having a heart attack before he can even ball her.  

The pacing is lethargic to say the least.  The stuff in between the bumping and grinding is unevenly acted and mostly boring.  It also doesn’t help that just when you think the film’s wrapping itself up, it continues on for another unnecessary reel with a disco Halloween party sequence and a needless attempted rape.

As a fan of Hayes’ previous work, I was sort of hoping Jailbait Babysitter would be some sort of minor classic.  Maybe that’s what I get for raising my expectations hopelessly too high.  At least you can enjoy it for its time capsule qualities.  I mean, it’s hard to completely hate any movie with this many detailed vans.

Frequent Hayes leading man Michael Pataki appears briefly in the uncredited role of Pare’s employer.

SHADOW OF THE THIN MAN (1941) ** ½

Lush married detectives Nick and Nora Charles (William Powell and Myrna Loy) go to the race track to play the ponies and wind up investigating the death of a jockey.  A young reporter named Paul (Barry Nelson from The Shining making his screen debut), eager for a scoop, sticks his nose in the matter and winds up getting framed for another murder.  Mr. and Mrs. Charles then set out to clear Paul’s name and nab the killer.

The fourth Thin Man mystery is a slight improvement over the last one, Another Thin Man.  The scenes of the Charles’ domestic bliss, wrangling their dog Asta, and rearing their son Nick Jr. (Dickie Hall) are a lot of fun (I liked the part where Nick reads his son a racing form he has hidden inside a storybook), but the mystery itself is considerably less involving.  While it’s a little more interesting than the previous entries, the pacing has a tendency to drag whenever Powell is sleuthing.  Luckily, his charm helps keep these overwritten scenes afloat. 

Powell and Loy’s breezy chemistry is as entertaining as ever and their banter is snappier than the previous entries.  The supporting cast is fine too.  We have Donna Reed as Nelson’s loyal girlfriend who helps him in his quest for a story, famed acting teacher Stella Adler plays a socialite with a motive for murder, and Sam Levene has some good moments the investigator on the case.  In addition to Nelson, Ava Gardner and Sid Melton were also making their film debuts.

It’s Loy who gets the best line of the movie when she tells Powell, “I’ll be with you in two shakes of a cocktail.”

THE STING (1973) ****

The Sting is simply one of the greatest films of all time.  It is the product of the best talent in all areas of the medium at that time coming together and creating one of the finest masterpieces in movie history.  It was director George Roy Hill’s love letter to the early days of cinema.  Using various old school techniques to echo the Golden Age of Hollywood, he gave The Sting’s ‘30s period detail an authentic feel, while simultaneously giving audiences something new and refreshing.  Everything from the acting of Paul Newman and Robert Redford (both of whom have never been better) to the superior set design, and impeccable costumes represents the best talent in their particular field firing on all cylinders.  

The script by David S. Ward is the blueprint for all con men movies.  It is one of the most intricately plotted scripts ever written and Hill, not to mention the actors, do it justice at every turn.  The use of Scott Joplin’s ragtime music (arranged by Marvin Hamlisch) adds to the lightweight tone of the movie and is a perfect cherry on top.

Redford plays Johnny Hooker, a small-time grifter who unknowingly heists a bunch of money from feared gangster Lonnegan (Robert Shaw).  He retaliates by killing one of Redford’s associates, which sends him out for revenge.  He looks up master con man Henry Gondorff (Newman) and together they plot a major scam to bilk Lonnegan out of a half a million dollars. 

I’ve seen The Sting several times over the years, but I was lucky enough to see it for the first time in a theater on the big screen, where it was meant to be seen.  It plays just fine on the small screen, but when you see the film in a theater with a mostly full house, it really pops.  Seeing Newman and Redford in their prime, projected larger than life, you can fully appreciate their talents and effortless chemistry together.  

That’s really the word that best describes The Sting, effortless.  There are a lot of moving parts, many vital supporting characters, schemes within schemes, and twists within twists.  Together, Hill and Ward pull it off with style, charm, and élan, making the whole thing look easy.  Likewise, Newman and Redford are a tailor-made team who never once break a sweat.  As good as they were in Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid (which was also directed by Hill), they’re even better here.