THEY CALL HER…CLEOPATRA WONG
There are certain films that become associated with one indelible image. For example, it’s hard to think of North by Northwest without conjuring a mental picture of Cary Grant being chased by that crop-duster, or of Singin’ in the Rain without immediately seeing Gene Kelly hanging off of that lamppost. In the case of the Filipino action film They Call Her… Cleopatra Wong, the image that invariably comes to mind – for those familiar with the film, at least – is that of comely star Marrie Lee brandishing an imposing looking, quadruple-barreled, sawed-off shotgun while dressed in a nun’s habit and wimple (thanks, El Santo).

Also lined up in Shrimp Chips: Primeval, Chopper.

And in Jet Set Tramp: Japan Nite Concert, Part One.

With all the stuff I have to do at my place of employment, and all the time I have been putting into maintaining my web site, by now I really need a vacation. But not wanting to put this site on hiatus again, I (not really relucatantly) continue to throw B-grade movies into my VCR and DVD player to review. I decided to pick Race With The Devil for my latest review, not just because of its cast and premise, but as a reminder that vacations can turn deadly. I got the message, even though I didn’t think the movie completely worked. And it’s fortunate I got the message after one movie – I had the more deadly movie Fraternity Vacation waiting on the side just in case the message didn’t get through the first time.

GUMNAM QATIL
As with Sahitani Dracula, this is less a movie in the conventional sense than it is a seemingly random assemblage of images that, were Singh to have the benefit of a pretentious film studies student to defend his art, could be justified as a true cinematic representation of the non-linear, nonsensical, and sometimes completely incomprehensible structure of a nightmare. Unfortunately for Singh, though, he has yet to assemble the cadre of defenders that rally to the defense of European directors like Jean Rollin, Jess Franco, and Lucio Fulci (each of whom I myself fervently defend). So it’s left to me, and perhaps you, to build the cult around Harinam Singh and get his movies identified not as cheap crap slapped together by a guy who didn’t really give a damn, but instead as brilliant, surrealist deconstructions of the subconscious state. Go forth now, and turn this man into a genius!

The term “entertainment” takes on bizarre new meaning in Rene Cardona Jr’s entry in the post-Jaws shark film cycle. Graphic and protracted bouts of all-but-unmotivated animal slaughter are puntuated with scenes featuring drinking, drug-taking, nudity, sex, attempted rape, prostitution, partner-swapping, threesomes and, believe it or not, a few things they weren’t so explicit about; and occasionally, just occasionally, someone remembers that this film WAS SUPPOSED TO BE ABOUT A SHARK.

TINTORERA (1977)

[Warning: many of the screenshots in this review are very definitely NSFW…so click at your own risk.]

KING KONG
To tell the truth, the most shorthand way for me to paint a word picture of King Kong in your mind is to say that he looks almost exactly like Ken Davitian, the guy who naked wrestled with Sacha Baron Cohen in the Borat movie — which means that, shirtless, he displays varieties of male cleavage that you previously could never have imagined possible. This resemblance furthermore has the unwelcome result of me feeling, whenever I see King Kong on screen — and he is a fairly ubiquitous presence in Dara Singh’s movies — that I have a pretty good idea of what he looks like naked. Of course, this doesn’t take much imagination, since these movies, following the peplum model, tend to dress their male stars in as little as possible. This practice offers little trouble in the case of the handsome and well sculpted Dara Singh, who spends much of King Kong in an outfit that consists of little more than some furry leopard print hot pants and what look to be Ugg boots, but when it forces one to contemplate the hairy and mountainous topography of Emile Czaja’s torso in all its fleshy reality, it can be a bit of a challenge.

How’s this for pathetic?  Not only am I late to the roundtable, I’m so late that Will even beat me to the good late joke.  Here’s what’s new:

Last House on the Beach (1978), which bears a striking resemblance to several other movies about “last houses” that you might have seen…

Mars Attacks! (1996), in which the title pretty much says it all…

Suspiria (1977), in which we learn that American tourists can’t even study ballet abroad in peace…

and…

Zontar, the Thing from Venus (1966), in which John Agar is no Peter Graves, Tony Huston is no Lee Van Cleef, Susan Bjurman is no Beverly Garland, and Larry Buchanan is no Roger Corman.

One of those’ll be coming along in a day or two, though, so you can just hold your horses on that one.  No, this post is about SHAMELESS SELF-PROMOTION!  Specifically, I’m here to tout the much-belated release of Thrilling Wonder Stories, Volume 2.  You might find that odd at first brush, but if you look closely in among all the gloriously unapologetic wiz-bangy short fiction, both old and new, you’ll find a little column called “The Televisualizer.”  That’s my column, wherein you’ll find a trio of DVD reviews that have never appeared at 1000 Misspent Hours and Counting, nor ever will in this exact form.  The Thrilling Wonder Stories web-store is selling the book for a substantial discount under the intended retail price, so you should all click over and buy one.  If enough people do that, there might even be a volume 3 one of these days…

No full reviews this week (or last, right?), but TC did crank out a few Shrimp Chips for y’alls amusement.

Ypotron — Psychedelic Eurospy adventure!
Con Licencia Para Matar – Catsuits and bikinis, go-go dancing and espionage from Mexico
Dead Space: Downfall – animated film prequel to a video game. Zombies in space.
Love and Murder -Another Bollywood addition to our growing “Guys Dressed Up As Skeletons” collection.

In the Hoopla category…
All the old Leisure, Music, and book review material from Teleport City has found (or will) a new home of its own: Jet Set Tramp is the new place for what I’m looking at as a site about travel, adventure, food, spirits, and entertainment written about from the point of view of nerds who don’t have a whole lot of money. It seems every travel site is either for rich people, crusty hippies, or families, so with any luck, Jet Set Tramp will be an alternative.

I hope you’ve all been saving your pennies. This weekend in Dallas, an extraordinary collection of horror movie memorabilia will be auctioned, including an original one-sheet for the Lon Chaney version of The Hunchback Of Notre Dame, an Argentinian poster for London After Midnight, and the jewel in the crown, an original one-sheet for Dracula that was obviously produced before the film was completed and released, as it features a scene aboard the Demeter. There is a serious chance that the standing record for a poster sale, US$443,000 for an original one-sheet for The Mummy, will be broken: the opening bid for the Dracula poster stands at US$100,000. The London After Midnight poster, conversely, starts at a mere US$17,500.

What global economic crisis?

The same auction also carries a series of posters for Mickey Mouse cartoons (including one for The Mad Doctor that I really want), an insert for Freaks (speaking of great taglines: Can a full-grown woman really love a midget – ? Classy, MGM, classy), and a lobby card set for Mad Love. Oh, and there’s also an original one-sheet for Citizen Kane, but who cares about that, right?

[Edited to add: ooh, and an original poster for The Adventures Of Robin Hood, at just US$7,500. Want!]