Man Is Foolishly Oblivious To Danger: Goke, Body Snatcher From Hell (1968)

I have seen a lot of Japanese films in my day.  Indeed, before I decided to focus primarily on South Korean cinema I considered throwing my hat into the ring of Japanese film scholarship, which has come quite a long way since the labor intensive work of Donald Richie and the many off shoots that followed.  While I certainly still incorporate Japanese cinema into my research when possible, it has now become more a labor of love to engage with the country's cinema in all its glorious forms whether samurai or kaiju related, even stepping into the lush and evocative world of Kurosawa on occasion.  I say all this with reference to one of my particularly adored genres within Japanese cinema, the shoe string budget horror films that were released throughout the sixties and well into the late seventies, including the wonderfully wacky House and the schlock heavy, but well-regarded Matango.  Indeed, I am, as such, always on the look out for a new film in this bizarre cannon to consume, realizing that in the space of these non-traditional, low-budget films exist some of the most pointed and scathing critiques of the many facets of Japanese society and the manner with which it relates to a larger global context.  The delightfully eerie Goke, Body Snatcher from Hell is certainly a case of this, right down to its use of a white European (perhaps American?) character and her lost Vietnam soldier as an extension of larger post-colonial woes in a country that was then still finding its footing on a global scale.  At times some of the special effects in the film could give the worst of the b-movie nonsense a run for its money, but given the clear admiration and care for the filmic out come of his product, director Hajime Sato manages to make a shoe-string budget into something spectacular, through heavy use of red tones, a healthy does of fake blood and enough hand drawn animation to make even the most stern of film viewers smile in disbelief.  Goke, Body Snatcher from Hell will never exist in a world of perfect cinematic output, but it is also far from being incurably bad, in fact, it is precisely in its willingness to not take itself seriously that the very critiques and condemnations it spouts become almost prophetic, even if only in a satirical sense.

Goke, Body Snatcher from Hell begins with a group of individuals flying on an airplane from Tokyo to  Osaka, wherein the flight stewardess Kuzumi Asakura (Tomomi Sato) attempts to layout a general flight plan only to be repeatedly interrupted by birds killing themselves by flying directly into the plane. Paired with a disturbingly red sky the other members of the crew and the passengers begin to grow anxious of their safety on the plane.  When information suggests that their might be a man on board with a bomb, the captains order an immediate search of all the persons present, including the somewhat befuddled Neal (Kathy Horan) an American widow, as well as a prestigious senator named Mano (Eizo Kitamura).  When a sudden light floats above the ship, the captains lose control of the plane's computers and the aircraft spirals downward, landing damaged on a desert like area, assumedly between the two cities.  It is at this point that the crew becomes suspicious of a particular man on the ship known only as The Hijacker (Hideo Ko), whose possession of a rifle makes him a prime suspect for a political assassination that happened prior to the flight.  Noting the inherent survival nature of the situation, a psychiatrist in the group named Momotake (Kazuo Kato) suggests that the group be incredibly aware of each action they commit as the wrong phrase or move could send the entire group into a frenzy, a warning that proves futile when it is revealed that not only is The Hijacker dangerous on purely an assassin level, but that he is indeed a creature that consists entirely in blob form, using the human body as a vessel to transport itself and destroy the other members on the plane in a manner quite similar to a vampire.  Nonetheless, figures like Mano in a foolish quest to quench their thirst drink large amounts of whisky, only worsening his suffering, while Neal, already reeling from the trauma of her loss, begins to act in bouts of hysteria bemoaning the war in Vietnam and the general downfall of humanity.  Matters come to their worst point when it is revealed that the aliens, who refer to themselves as Gokemidoro, show that they are capable of transferring between bodies at a quick rate, consuming the life force of all those they encounter.  The closing shots depict two remaining survivors traveling about the streets of Japan in a quest for survivors, only to be told by the spectral voice of a Gokemidoro that no human will be spared, as the camera then pans out to show the true destruction wrought not only on Japan, but the entire world.

While a well-argued case for this not really being a horror movie, but more so a science fiction thriller could be made, I would like to instead say that the survival aspects of the work are precisely what make it fall within the framework of a horror movie, as deemed so by Criterion who released it as part of their stellar and repeatedly rewarding Eclipse box set When Horror Came to Shochiku.  In fact, the psychiatrists speech during the film notes that in times of survival one can see humanity turn to its most inhumane, tapping into base animal instincts and maliciously seeking their own survival over that of others.  The narrative in Goke certainly evokes this sort of sensibility, but manages to take it even a step further, using this moment of survival to allow characters to challenge deeply entrenched notions of oppression, privilege and accessibility.  This is absolutely the case when Tokiyasue (Nobuo Koneko) exploits the well-being of Mano by offering him the initial drink of whisky, thus affording his increasing suffering and drunkenness as a point to show the horrors and injustices he has condoned while in office.  Similarly, there are multiple through lines between the figure of Neal's dead husband and his oppressive behavior both in regards to how he navigates as a continued colonial identity in Japan, while also proving quite hazardous to Neal who appears to be at a complete lack without the privilege attached to a white male in society.  Of course, the horror does not extend at these oppression, one can certainly look closer and note the manners with which Japanese women become a doubly othered figure in the narrative, neither possessing the whiteness or the maleness to be taken completely seriously, despite, at times being the most rational in a situation.  As such, Goke, in its low-budget ways becomes a wonderful look at the spectrum of intersectionality and the ways this oppression occurs even in the face of a near fatal accident, suggesting that as long as oppressors exist in the framework of a society, hegemony will exist and perhaps that is where a real horror lies, if not in this realization the purposeful juxtaposition of the Gokemidoro with the violence occurring in reality (Vietnam, political assassinations and riots) certainly drives the point deeply in a viewers psyche.

Key Scene:  The airplane crash!

This particular film is part of an Eclipse series that is full of great Japanese horror films, in which this piece of brilliance is not even its best offering.

To Look Ordinary, Not Beautiful, Just Ordinary: Frankenstein Created Woman (1967)

My consumption of Hammer films has always been of considerable lack, particularly since I have decided to take upon yet another prospective project involving solely an analysis of the films within this unique franchise.  Upon inquiring from a friend as to some viewing recommendations from the storied company's catalog, I was amazed to find that there are quite a few films, indeed, even various eras of Hammer studio output.  Needless to say, I now have a considerable stack of Hammer films to undertake, having only seen Horror of Dracula, The Legend of the Seven Golden Vampires and the more recent, and considerably underwhelming The Woman in Black (My review at the time was far more positive).  A suggestion to begin my journey with Frankenstein Created Woman proved quite fruitful, particularly since it is a decidedly watchable work by Terence Fisher, one that manages to pull in the wonderful gothic horror elements I have come to appreciate from the few Hammer films I have seen, while also incorporating a storyline that stretches a considerable temporal length without exhausting itself or seeming a bit too haphazard.  In fact, between some of the wonderful scowling put on by Hammer veteran Peter Cushing and an overall sense of fun being exuded by all involved, Frankenstein Created Woman gives the sense of being a fully fleshed out genre film that manages to take itself lightly, thus making some of the more subtle social commentaries that emerge seem that much more realized, even decidedly intentional. I would even go so far as to suggest that Frankenstein Created Woman works primarily because it does have such a focused critique on issues of gender and class and how projections of privilege from either group can, ultimately, hinder and even harm the individuals whose bodies are othered and subsequently silenced, never mind a consideration of all the ways in which gender and identity are subverted and undermined throughout the films, pointing to the distinct yet seemingly inextricable entities of the body and the soul.  Packed into an hour and a half movie, Frankenstein Created Woman is precisely what I want from a genre piece and while I have high hopes, I know that not all of the Hammer films I will encounter later are likely to carry his same sense of brilliance and wonder.

Frankenstein Created Woman begins in a pre-title sequence, wherein an unnamed man is depicted being brought to the guillotine for an unexplained crime, only to have a small child looking on during the entire ordeal, it is revealed in the closing moments of this sequence that the boy is apparently the son of the man.  This then begins the film proper, showing Hans Werner (Robert Morris) a goofy, albeit likable guy who works for the more creepy and generally less genial Victor Frankenstein (Peter Cushing) whose stoic demeanor seems only concerned with pushing beyond the limits of science into a new degree of living, particularly so considering his fascination with the moments after death where the soul has yet to leave the body.  Aside from his work with Frankenstein, Hans also possesses romantic ties to the local barmaid Christina (Susan Denberg) who for all intents and purposes is an attractive girl, save for scarring on the left side of her face, a point of ridicule for her via a group of aristocratic youth who take much joy is throwing their money around and mocking all those worse of than they are, particularly the scarred Christina, as well as Hans for his romantic relationship with the woman they deem monstrous.  When the three reprobates return to the bar later that night to wreak more havoc, the bar owner beats the young men to death, an act that is immediately blamed on Hans who is assumed to share a genetic line with his murderous father, thus proving enough for a conviction.  Falling victim to the guillotine himself, Christina becomes distraught and throws herself into a river dying.  Realizing the moment of science possible in this, Frankenstein is able to transfer the soul of Hans into the body of Christina who returns to the living world blond and void of any of her scarring.  However, she now possesses the vengeful soul of Hans, thus using her new level of sexuality to pick off the three members of the gang, all the while Frankenstein flails to reign in his destructive creation, only to meet her at the cliff  of a river, wherein she jumps to her demise a second time, however, now as a more sacrificial act, acknowledging her body as a surrogate for Hans and his vindictive soul.

There is a ton of stuff at play in this film, much to my surprise, although I cannot be entirely thrown off by this occurring, since I had an equal if not greater reaction to The Legend of the Seven Golden Vampires.  However, I was of the assumption that much of the brilliance in that film was directly a result of The Shaw Brothers' involvement, yet it appears equally that of Hammer, if not entirely so.  I say all this because Frankenstein Created Woman manages to be a film that is deeply concerned with the process of othering and the oppression which occurs in such acts.  Take, for example, Hans who is impoverished and the son of a murdered criminal.  Society, it would appear, has all but written him off as a productive individual, leading to his being able to only find work within the space of Frankenstein's lab, a place that has been othered primarily because of a figure whose quest for scientific truth runs counter to the assumption that all power or privilege is either pre-ordained through God or can be accrued through wealth.  Indeed, when one needs to find a victim the blame falls directly on Hans and his lower class body, one could only imaging what Angela Davis might think of this particular moment in the film.  Even greater is the oppression on the body of Christina who is also lower class and that of a woman, becoming a thing of assumed exploitation for the aristocratic men, something they believe they can use freely without concern.  When the factor of her scarring is added, one could make the case for her being disabled, in so much as her scarring makes her somewhat immobile through a society that predicates women's bodies as things to be looked at and deemed attractive, something that is not entirely possible when one is maimed.  When the body of Christina is then melded with Hans' soul something intriguing happens, wherein the newly risen Christina becomes hyper-mobile in the space of the narrative, perhaps a statement on the layers of class and gender performance occurring before become futile upon death, more so a consideration though of their fluidity and how easily they can be leapt over once a person decides that following the foolish rules is not only a waste of time, but perhaps severely limiting.

Key Scene:  The matter-of-fact ending to this film made me chuckle a bit, although it was quite well-executed.

This is available in a box set with The Legend of the Seven Golden Vampires and Dracula: Prince of Darkness.  This is your best bet for viewing the film, as it is cheaper to get these three together than it is to get any of them on their own.

Who Is The Drug Dealer? Your Or Me?: Red Hook Summer (2012)

Here I come again as the seeming sole defender of the films offered by Spike Lee, while he is certainly not void of some less than stellar films, it appears as though his antics detached from filmmaking prove so off-putting that people purposefully avoid his films and even actively advocate against them without even viewing their entirety.  Now to be fair, Lee helmed a campaign against Django Unchained and its latent racism, without of course viewing the film, so in this aspect he cannot be saved.  Yet the people who dismiss Lee assuming that he has completely moved away from the cinematic reflection and activisim latent in his earlier works are the individuals I hope to inspire to pursue a viewing of this film, because while it is certainly not on the level of Do The Right Thing (my favorite film ever), it manages to touch upon some of its themes and tropes and certainly does not shy away from suggesting that film is a follow-up to the world of Lee's seminal classic, going so far as to incorporate a tragically older, yet equally ill-guided Mookie, played off course by the much older Lee.  Another surprise with this vision of Lee's New York is how admittedly it lacks a black influence, the music in the film is not fueled by political activist oriented rap groups like Public Enemy, but the smoother and more melodic offerings of indie folk music and a heavy dose of world music, not to mention a ton of gospel songs.  While one could read this as Lee's consideration of the role of religion in a technologically oriented younger black community that is only a very thin veil in the larger picture.  While I am not sure of Lee's entire intent as it relates to this film, but it is clear that he seems to be drawing from his own life, particularly in that the main character is a burgeoning filmmaker struggling to form his craft, as well as his identity.  Lee takes a considerable amount of risk with this film, some of them are pulled off with great zeal, particularly the choice to go with a low budget cinematic style, while others are a bit iffy, mostly the varied acting of the film's child actors.  Regardless, this film, despite its dismissal proves to be one of Lee's most successful and engaging films since Do The Right Thing and some of its moments of internal struggle within characters have me quite excited about this remake of Oldboy coming out sometime this year.

Red Hook Summer focuses on the travel of Flik (Jules Brown) to Red Hook in New York as he is scheduled to spend the summer with his preacher grandfather Enoch Rouse (Clarke Peters), whose admittedly "old school" and demands that Flik constantly consider his own relationship with salvation via Jesus Christ.  Flik, coming from the well-to-do upper middle class world of Atlanta, rejects the simplicity and uneducated world of Enoch, arguing the hypocrisies and contradictions within religion, while also continuing with his attachment to technology.  It is instead through a burgeoning relationship with another girl from Red Hook closer to his age named Chazz (Toni Lysaith) that Flick seems to find an evolving dialogue on both his identity and the issues raised within church contradictions. Of course, like some of Lee's other films, the world of Red Hook is not occupied by a few characters, but instead a constant deluge of varied persons whose affects either progress or digress Flik's evolution, in some cases a character does both.  Perhaps the most relevant secondary character in Flik's journey comes via Deacon Zee, an elderly drunkard whose diatribes on the state of the economy and African-American's own  failure to engage with the monetary woes of a nation, both suggest a call for action politically, while also deconstructing the "woe is me" attitude blatant in Zee's lifestyle.  Yet, it is Zee who helps Flik and Chazz out of trouble when accused of eating food that belongs to the church's Sunday School program.  Of course, the largest matter in the narrative proves to be Flik's problematic relationship with Enoch who becomes more and more demanding that he seek salvation, yet when it is revealed that Enoch suffers from the guilt of a terrible act earlier in his life, it is Flik who provides forgiveness and understanding, while a majority of the community shuns Enoch for his past indiscretions, an issue which he has dealt with emotionally, spiritually and even physically.  In the end, Flik returns home from a summer of unexpected learning and evolution, in which he has met a broken man attempting to turn his life around, as well as a young and burgeoning romantic friendship that helps remind him that his struggle for identity is far from singular.

I cannot deny the role that religion plays into Lee's narrative, it is of course a piece engaged within black cinema, in which spirituality and salvation are prominent tropes.  Yet, Lee is quick to villify certain aspects of religion, particularly its problematic influence via money, as well as the means with which individuals will exploit those with lesser power under the guise of scriptural evidence.  This considered, I would argue that Lee's film is far more concerned with dealing with guilt and its affects on generations.  Enoch clearly suffers for his terrible action, but at no point seems to justify its occurrence, even when he is beaten to a pulp by a group of local thugs and called Satan to his face by a fellow pastor.  Enoch is fully aware of his actions affects on one man's loss of faith and decides not to dwell on his wrongdoings, but instead, attempts to save the faith of the individuals he encounters in the future.  While the given information causes viewers to instantly question his relationship with Flik it is clear that he serves only as a paternal figure, one who wants to provide guidance for a child who has lost his father to the war in Afghanistan, a timely political message that reminds me of how socially conscious Lee can be when focused.  In fact, I would argue that even with his past brought forward that Enoch serves as a better role model for Flick than many of the individuals he encounters throughout the rest of the narrative, whether they be is somewhat distancing mother, the drunken Deacon Zee or the handful of white characters whose presents is either a means of guilt-oriented outreach or profit oriented gentrification.  The world of Red Hook Summer, much like that of Do The Right Thing exists in a simulacrum of urban minority experiences, yet where his earlier film focused on the trouble of a communities inability to "do the right thing," this film, in a surprisingly reflective moment by Lee asks viewers to consider how they navigate their own life, especially if they are struggling with having chosen to do the wrong thing in the past.

Key Scene: While all of Enoch's sermons prove vibrant and profusely cinematic, it is the grainy closing shots of the film that one can assume come from Flik's Ipad filming that really add resonance to the film and make it well worth watching and reflecting upon.

This film, more so than anything else out this year, needs to be reconsidered.  I am appalled by how dismissed this film has become and suggest you drop everything you are doing to watch it on Netflix immediately.