Female Prisoner Scorpion: Beast Stable (1973)

The Female Prisoner Scorpion series are a quartet of Japanese exploitation action thrillers centred around the explosive character of Nami Matsushima aka “Scorpion”, unforgettably portrayed by Meiko Kaji in an indomitable performance. Arrow Video remastered and released the movies in a box-set, and they are available to stream on Tubi – though bizarrely the second film (Jailhouse 41) is missing. Definitely falls in the category of “movies Quentin Tarantino paid homage to aka ripped off” with strong shades of Kill Bill Vol. 1 + 2. And warning, the series is sicko 1970s exploitation genre fare, with lots of ugly moments, so not for the faint of heart. What shines through is Kaji’s star presence, who is given little dialogue but speaks volumes with her eyes, and creates a mythical angel of vengeance. In Female Prisoner Scorpion: Beast Stable (1973), Scorpion has broken out of prison (again) and rather than a women-in-prison movie, this entry follows her hiding out in the slums and experiencing the ways in which the criminal underworld and lower class areas have their own “prisons”. There is a brilliant pre-title opening sequence that shows Scorpion slipping the net from a detective (Mikio Narita) on her trail, and incidentally taking one of his arms as a parting gift. The other strength to the series is director Shunya Ito (who directed three out of the four movies) who provides a snappy sense of style, with certain sequences on the border of pop art and surrealism in their colour, composition and conception. The murder of a sloppy, mob-backed doctor, for example, is not witnessed, but the aftermath is rendered as blood splatters on white hospital curtains and Scorpion’s face obscured behind speckled glass of a door. Between different sub-plots and characters, Ito’s Scorpion works her way through a world of abused sex workers, rotten gangsters and brutal police. The main connection Scorpion has is with the kind sex worker Yuki (Yayoi Watanbe) who lives in a shack with her mentally ill brother who she is in an incestous relationship with (again, grubby exploitation genre stuff). Meanwhile, a villain from Scorpion’s past is Katsu (Reisen Ri) has a cage of ravens and is part of a criminal gang, and will inevitably cross paths with Scorpion. While not as strong as the first film, with its stop-start structure, Beast Stable is still very good; highlights being Scorpion’s revenge montage and the haunting imagery of lit matches dropped into a darkened sewer as Yuki calls out for “Scorpion” as our hero hides out in there from the cops. Recommended (if you have the stomach).

Deadbeat By Dawn (1988)

Deadbeat By Dawn (1988) is a splatter-punk symphony on a beer can budget. Directed, written, and starring Jim Van Bebber, a film school drop-out who put everything into this low-budget action flick, even choreographing the fights and stunts. With gang members in ripped denim and head-bands, sporting switch-blades and nunchaka, this movie has been compared to Streets Of Rage, but rather than an 1980s neon arcade game, there’s something more grimy and grungy here; the synth score is crunchy, the blood is like red paint, and it’s clear that Bebber is putting his body on the line with each hectic stunt. That, and you can just feel that when they drive a car into a river for one scene, they don’t have any back-ups to spare; everything piece of action or violence has a consequence in this shoe-string production. Shot on the streets of Dayton, Ohio, there’s a primal reality to everything, even with it following a familiar exploitation plot. Bebber plays Goose, leader of the Ravens, who are in a gang war with the Spiders, led by the sadistic Danny (Paul Harper). When Goose’s girlfriend Christie (Megan Murphy), who dabbles in mysticism, and physic readings, asks him to leave the gang life behind for the straight-and-narrow, Goose obliges. After tragedy strikes due to Danny’s violent machinations, the scene will be eventually set for a showdown of revenge. Clearly feeding off the scuzzy punk vibes of The Warriors and Death Wish, there’s also a sense that Bebber is carrying off his own Taxi Driver intensity in certain scenes, like when he stays with his heroin-addicted father in a rundown apartment, or when he walks the streets with bloody soaked fists (clearly shooting on the fly to the gawking background passerbys). The violence hits hard and fast, even when the guns look like toys; Bebber gets enough visceral energy from his handling of nunchucks or the gory body blows. A triumph of cheap, passionate genre filmmaking, with energy coursing in the moving camera and editing in of the cityscape, all eventually escalating into a satisfyingly bloody fight across a train station platform. Marc Pitman is also a scene-stealer as the spaced-out nihilist gang member named Bonecrusher (it’s that type of flick!). Available to stream on Tubi. Recommended.

The Iron Rose (1973)

The Iron Rose (1973; La Rose de Fer) is the third film I’ve seen from French director Jean Rollin, and along with Spanish filmmaker Jess Franco, their names represent a quintessential arty Euro-horror milieu. Rollin is known for low-budget genre flicks, usually concerning vampires, where there’s nudity and blood, and actors wandering around castles and shorelines. While offering some exploitation thrills with the sex and violence (and are often marred by dodgy moments), the films I’ve seen of Rollin’s are also marked by a dreamy atmosphere, usually generated by long takes and a static pace; even though his films never clock past 90 minutes, and are usually under that, they always lull me into a narcoleptic state. Some would argue that’s a flaw, but for me, and many of his fans, that’s part of the experience. That these films feel like a waking dream, accentuated by the locations and misty weather, and the potential for blood, poetic reverie and off-kilter theatrics. There’s something innately compelling about watching figures emerge slowly out of a foggy mist. The Iron Rose is apparently a rarity in Rollin’s work in that it doesn’t involve vampires. The plot is quite simple: a man (Hugues Quester) meets a woman (Francoise Pascal) at a wedding. They agree on a date. Wandering a deserted train track, they look for a more quiet location for their picnic and the man suggests visiting a graveyard. A morbid site for a date, and they pay the price for wanting to make it in a crypt, becoming lost and delirious as night comes and they cannot seem to find their way out amidst the graves. Yet there’s a deeper pull to the unfolding fear and panic, as the young lovers become tense and argumentative, and the woman becomes possessed with the dead and the beyond. There’s symbolism and portent, particularly in the title object of an iron rose, and Pascal is fantastic in conveying their character’s fateful transformation. The use of primary colours in the costuming – the man’s red sweater, the woman’s yellow top – stand out within the darkened landscapes, the gravestones and (purportedly real) bones. Self-financed, a strange passion project for Rollin that was not a critical or commercial success, but has now become a cult object within his overall output of erotic horror films. Available to stream on Kanopy. Recommended.

Eaten Alive (1976)

Look, I really liked Ti West’s 1970s horror throwback X, but when you catch up with something like Tobe Hooper’s Eaten Alive (1976; also known as Death Trap), I couldn’t help but think a little less of X. No doubt Eaten Alive is an acknowledged influence, but when it comes to exploitation hicksville horror, there’s something about an original, bona fide B movie from the 1970s. It’s made on the cheap, it has no pretensions or slick marketing machine to back it up, and it serves up what horror freaks, at that time, no doubt wanted: gnarly kills, frequent nudity, and degenerate villains. And gives that to you in around 90 minutes and with more style to boot! Eaten Alive was Hooper’s follow-up film after Texas Chainsaw Massacre, and rather than the porous, blunt-force, documentary feel of that classic shocker, here, the director leans into the artificiality, as he was shooting everything on a studio backlot with a pool doubling as a swamp. A number of scenes are blasted with red lighting, as if the afternoon sundown was beamed from Mars, and the pet crocodile that demented Judd (Neville Brand) owns and feeds unsuspecting victims to, doesn’t look that real. The genius of Eaten Alive is that it doesn’t matter, everything is heightened and festering with chaotic energy. While the maniac of this movie, Judd is a ragged-looking dirt-bag who can’t help muttering to himself or killing anyone unlucky enough to stop by his dilapidated place, the Starlight Hotel, the atmosphere of this East Texas setting is that most other people seem to be off their rocker as well. Aside from the straight-arrow sheriff (Stuart Whitman) and the square father and daughter duo (Mel Ferrer and Crystin Sinclaire) searching for their missing daughter/sister (Roberta Collins), there are some absolute weirdos including the sleazy young Buck (a young Robert Englund), the grey pancake-faced brothel madam Miss Hattie (Carolyn Jones from The Addams Family!), and the tightly wound husband (William Finley from Phantom Of The Paradise). You’ve also got scream queen legend Marilyn Burns from Texas Chainsaw Massacre giving another bravura meltdown performance, and a young Kyle Richards as the young kid in danger from the scythe-wielding Judd and his pet crocodile. If you want what Eaten Alive is cooking up, you’ll be partaking in a grimy, bloody, messed-up stew, with helpings of visual flair and southern fried atmosphere (despite it being shot in a Hollywood backlot). Much better than I was expecting and another gem in Hooper’s back catalogue. Available to stream on Tubi in Australia. Also, Wayne Bell and Hooper’s sound design style score is quite underrated. Recommended.

Friday Foster (1975)

While it has violence and nudity, there’s something lighter and frothier about the blaxploitation film, Friday Foster (1975); it’s almost ready to be a crowd-pleasing TV movie pilot, maybe because the film is being based on a comic strip (comparable to Modesty Blaise in terms of syndicated newspaper comics). A vehicle for the great Pam Grier who proves her star power here as the title character, a photo journalist for Glance magazine who has ties to the fashion industry, and is assigned to cover the airport arrival of Blake Tarr (Thalmus Rasulala), a black billionaire Howard Hughes type. When there’s an assassination attempt (one of the shooters is a young Carl Weathers) and Friday gets the scoop, the stage is set for her to be an amateur sleuth that continually gets into The Perils Of Pauline type sticky situations; this gives Grier the chance to alternate between earnest sincerity and charming goofiness. There’s a murder mystery and a political conspiracy, and multiple location shots of Washington DC, and a whispered figure at the centre of it all, the “Black Widow”. It’s also refreshing to see Yaphet Kotto in a wise-cracking hero role, playing Colt Hawkins, a private detective on the case and a foil to Friday; their partnership feels like a nice spin on The Thin Man or Bogey-and-Bacall Hollywood detective dynamic. There’s a great cast including Godfrey Cambridge, Julius Harris, Scatman Crothers, and Eartha Kitt as fashion designer Madame Rena, delightfully tearing through their scenes without even a glance in the rear-view mirror. There’s a sunny neo-noir vibe and screwball comedy throwback gags and patter, just with more casual sex. Music by Luchi De Jesus who also contributes the very catchy title track. As with most 1970s blaxploitation, this was directed by a white guy, Arthur Marks, who also made other classics of the genre that I haven’t seen like Detroit 9000, Bucktown and JD’s Revenge. Streamed on Criterion Channel but also available to rent on iTunes. Recommended.