Tag: b

Battlespace

  By

★½
“In space, no-one can hear you snore…”

This dates back to 2006, and was somewhat groundbreaking at the time, due to the very high volume of digital effects and CGI background work – it came out was three years before Avatar, as a yardstick. The key word here, however, is “volume”. For the effects make up for in quantity what they largely lack in quality, although you have to be impressed at the sheer ambition on view, especially when you don’t have a fraction of the resources which were available to James Cameron. More problematically, also missing is the skill necessary to handle a narrative, where there is simultaneously too much and not enough going on. The former is apparent in entire universe building which has to be accomplished in hard to digest expository chunks, and the latter makes itself known, courtesy of long stretches which are as devoid of interesting features as the Arizona landscapes in which they were shot.

I could spend a thousand words or more laying out the background here. Except, why bother, because it’s virtually irrelevant to what follows: it says a lot when a film is apparently so bored by its own mythology, it all but abandons it. There are instead, two basic chunks, with the first told mostly in voice-over flashback, Iva T. Stryyke recounting an adventure experienced by her mother, Colonel Mara Shrykke (both generations played by Connelly), centuries before, when she was trying to stop a weapon of mass destruction being readied for use in an ongoing inter-stellar conflict. At least, I think that’s what was going on. My will to live had largely been sucked out, by the endless scenes of her roaming a desert, followed by an enemy agent. It appears those were shot here in Arizona: I never knew we were located in America’s most boring state.

This fondness for using a gravel pit as a stand-in for an alien landscape will be recognized by anyone familiar with Doctor Who, and the second part of the story feels like it might have fitted in there too. Eventually, the daughter is stuck on a spaceship at the end of the universe – as in, its actual heat death. She’s the only thing standing between it, and a new Big Bang, which will start the cycle over again. Only, she has qualms about going into the void. It’s a very Whovian concept, and the debt clearly owed to BBC science-fiction extends to the voice of her computer, played by Paul Darrow, who was one of the stars in the iconic series, Blake’s 7. This is… not so iconic, though in Connelly’s defense, she does a half-decent job of looking the part (or parts), and there’s only so much anyone can do with lines like, “Never mess with a thirty-third century girl.” As a technical exercise, this has its moments, considering the era from which it dates. In virtually every other way, however, it’s a poor substitute for even eighties television.

Dir: Neil Johnson
Star: Eve Connelly, Blake Edgerton, Paul Darrow, Iva Franks Singer

Breakdown Lane

  By

★★
“In need of some roadside assistance.”

An initial twist on the zombie apocalypse and an appealing heroine aren’t enough to save this. By the end, while said heroine has transformed into a mayhem-dealing machine, any fresh elements have been discarded, for a low-budget rehash of ones which we’ve seen far too often already. It starts intriguingly, with Kirby Lane (Moore) “ambushed” by a woman in a camper with a sick man at a gas station, while on the way to meet her boyfriend (Cushing). When her car breaks down in the middle of absolutely nowhere, the only connection to the outside world is Max (Howell), the agent for her on-board emergency help provider. But things in the outside world are deteriorating rapidly, and the tow-truck Max dispatches… well, let’s just say, it might be a while. Meanwhile, Kirby has to handle the perils which threaten her, including humans both infected and cannibalistic, as she tries to fulfill her promise to link up with Max.

The combination of zombies and deserts reminded me of It Stains the Sands Red, which I’d recently seen. And, like there, the makers apparently realized half-way through that the remote setting they’d chosen couldn’t actually sustain a feature, and opted to revert back to over-familiar tropes. While ending with the same overall grade as Stains, it gets there in a rather different way. This clearly has a far smaller budget, and is significantly less technically-accomplished [if the faux comic-book interludes don’t annoy the hell out of you after ten minutes… Wait longer…] But unlike Stains, it has a heroine who comes over as genuine and likable. Courtesy of Moore’s performance, you want to see Kirby survive, and that goes some distance to help paper over the obvious cracks.

Some distance, however, remains short of enough. The contrivance of having Kirby push her car across the terrain, as shelter and so she can keep hanging out with Max, is flat-out ridiculous. And once she gets back to civilization, the film can do nothing except bang out the low-budget zombie notes with which any genre fan is already familiar. Kirby’s transition into a tooled-up bad-ass momentarily piqued interest here, except it comes out of nowhere – and serves no particular purpose either, since there isn’t enough time left for it to become a significant factor. By the end, it has largely dissolved into another cheap horror film, indistinguishable from the rest, and neither particularly good nor bad as such things are concerned.

Although, here’s something odd. The film makes much of its Canadian-ness in the end credits, but unless they’ve started growing saguaros up North, looks to me like it was largely filmed in an utterly uncredited Arizona. That applies both to the desert scenes and the later urban ones. In particular, there’s a garage which is located about three miles from GWG Towers here, and one of the post-apocalypse vehicles seems to belong to a cosplay group we’re familiar with, the Department of Zombie Defense. Sheesh, how’s a state supposed to grow its film industry?

Dir: Robert Conway, Bob Schultz
Star: Whitney Moore, Stephen Tyler Howell, Aric Cushing

Black Lagoon

  By

★★★½
“Black to basics.”

Thanks to Dieter for pointing me in the direction of this series, whose 24 episodes feel like a bit of a throwback to the days when watching anime felt hard-edged and dangerous, almost a subversive act. Mind you, this actually came out in 2006, so I guess it’s actually something of a throwback, full stop. [Random aside of no relevance to anything much: startled to realize today it’s more than eight years since Salt came out. Would have sworn it was only about three, tops] It’s hyper-violent, clearly for mature viewers only, and its multiple action heroines possess generally poor attitudes. Clearly up my street!

It takes place in what I’m going to assume is a somewhat alternate reality, where the Thai city of Roanapur has become a modern-day equivalent to Tortuga, the 17th-century pirate haven in the Caribbean. It’s a free-fire zone where organized crime operates with impunity, including Japanese, Chinese, Russian, Colombian and Italian groups, along with all the necessary “support services,” from gun-runners to brothels. Lagoon Company are one such, mostly specializing in smuggling goods, people or whatever needs to be moved quietly around. Into this setting falls the unfortunate Rock (Namikawa), a Japanese salaryman on business, whose ship is boarded by Lagoon, and he is taken hostage. After his company abandons him, to conceal the shady business they were doing, he joins Lagoon as an accountant-interpreter-negotiator-factotum. He’s in for a culture shock.

Leading the parade of counter-heroines is the Chinese-American Revy (Toyoguchi), who is Lagoon’s main enforcer, and loves her job, which she carries out enthusiastically, with the slightest provocation. She’s a fascinating character: Revy has absolutely no scruples about blowing away anybody who gets in her way, and in “normal” society would be far beyond the pale. However, in Roanapur, she’s just one among a myriad of similar types – there, scruples are likely to get you killed – and her unswerving loyalty to the rest of Lagoon, and Rock in particular, are a redeeming quality. She prefers to wield, with extreme prejudice and skill, a pair of modified Beretta 92FS’s, and Revy’s ambidextrous skill has earned her the nickname “Two Hand” around town.

If she were the only candidate, this might end up being a bit of a borderline entry, but over the 24 episodes in the two series (there’s another five-episode arc I haven’t seen, Roberta’s Blood Trail, which came out in 2010), Revy is joined by a number of other, morally ambiguous women, all of whom are more than comfortable with firearms:

  • “Balalaika” – the pseudonymous head of Hotel Moscow, the Russian crime group under whom Lagoon frequently operate. She’s a veteran of the Soviet occupation of Afghanistan, which left her with serious burns. She got her name from the sniper rifle which was her weapon of choice, and often calls upon her ex-Army colleagues when reinforcements are needed.
  • Eda – a drinking buddy of Revy, she’s a nun in the Church of Violence a.k.a. the Rip-off Church. They are perhaps the premier gun-running outfit in Roanapur, who count Lagoon among their customers, and you interfere with the Church or its leader Yolanda, at your own peril.
  • Roberta – the maid of the Lovelace family, one of the leading South American cartels. When its scion, Garcia, is kidnapped, Roberta goes on the hunt. Turns out she’s actually a former FARC guerrilla, who had been trained as an assassin in Cuba, and proves capable of fighting Revy to a time-limit draw.
  • Gretel – one of two Romanian orphans, who may be the most screwed-up characters in the whole show, due to their background in child porn and worse. [‘Snuff said, shall we say…] While life is generally cheap in this series, she and her brother Gretel take sadistic and visceral pleasure in torturing their victims, extreme even for this show.
  • Yukio Washimine – daughter of a yakuza boss. She takes over the group after the incumbent is killed by Balalaika, despite Rock’s efforts to prevent this.

There are all, in their own way, interesting (if largely damaged, in some cases severely) characters, who have enough potential that they could each merit their own series. Add them to Revy, and its an impressive line-up, even if some only appear for a couple of parts. The structure of the series generally has each arc occupying two episodes, though the Washimine storyline occupies the final six. It’s a good approach, allowing for a bit more expansion than the 25-minute format usually permits. My main gripe is the near-total lack of character development over the two seasons. Revy, Dutch and just about everyone else are the same at the end of the show as at the beginning. There’s no sense they’ve learned anything from their experiences, and even Rock has simply settled into his new life with barely a ripple. The show seems more interested in their past, than their future.

It is still a lot of fun to watch – admittedly, you need to suspend your disbelief in the way gun battles work. But if, like me, you’re a fan of John Woo films like A Better Tomorrow (an obvious and admitted influence), then the remarkable invulnerability to bullets shown by Revy, etc. will not be an issue. Having cut my anime fandom teeth on the likes of Wicked City and Vampire Hunter D, this plays like the organized crime equivalent, and provides an enjoyable blast from the past.

Dir: Sunao Katabuchi
Star (voice): Megumi Toyoguchi, Daisuke Namikawa, Tsutomu Isobe, Mami Koyama

Burned, by A. Blythe

  By

Literary rating: ★★★
Kick-butt quotient: ☆☆½

My name is Alyse Winters. I used to be a powerful djinni until…
   “We’ve got a burn notice on you – you’re blacklisted.”
When you’re burned, you’ve got nothing. No cash, no credit, no job history. You’re stuck in whatever city they decide to dump you in.
   “Where am I?”
   “Philadelphia”.
You do whatever work comes your way. You rely on anyone who’s still talking to you. A sleazy ex-boyfriend. A friend who runs a sex-shop/illegal weapons depot. Bottom line? Until you figure out who burned you… You’re not going anywhere.

Yeah, it’s kinda like that: a paranormal version of long-running series, Burn Notice. Heroine Winters is an agent for the Shadow Elite, tasked with keeping order across the six different castes of djinni, a shape-shifter also capable of summoning virtually anything she needs with a snap of her fingers. She gets knocked out, and wakes to find herself in Phillie, sporting a fetching pair of copper bracelets that have robbed her of all supernatural skills, and entirely disavowed by her employers.

She needs to get herself back on her feet, figure out who was responsible and why, before some of the many people with good cause to bear a grudge against her, discover where the powerless ex-agent is now located. Doing so will require her to come to to terms with being locked in a single human form with very human limitations, as well as working for some questionable types who might be able to help Alyse. She also needs to figure out who is behind a series of brutal murders which are affecting even the most powerful members of her community – not least because the finger of suspicion there is pointing at her.

The “catch the real killer to prove you’re not guilty” reminded me of Fugitive of Magic, and even the cover looks a bit similar. Between that and the Burn Notice comparisons, this does feel over-familiar, even with the supernatural angles. But I did very much like the heroine, who is thrown back onto her wits, due to the lack of her paranormal talents, and refreshingly, simply doesn’t have time for the usual romantic dalliances. As she says, “When you’re a covert agent, stopping to process gets you killed. Feelings get you killed. I was trained to handle intense and dangerous situations without breaking a sweat… That’s how I survived every encounter so far, and that’s how I intended to survive my current predicament.”

On the other hand, this is a slightly thin storyline: can’t help suspecting, the original Michael Westen would likely have got everything here handled in 42 minutes, plus commercials. And the end collapses into sub-Bondian nonsense, the villain actually saying, “How about I show you our great achievement? I hate for you to die without knowing what your contribution will be. It wouldn’t be fair.” Really? It’s a poor and clichéd misstep, after which an otherwise half-decent book limps across the finish line.

Author: A. Blythe
Publisher: Red Palm Press LLC, available through Amazon, as both an e-book and paperback.
Book 1 of 3 in the Magic Bullet series.

La Banda de los Bikinis Rosas vs Cobras Negras

  By

★★
“Banda on the run.”

It has been a while since I’ve scraped the bottom of the barrel of Mexploitation cinema: all those telenovelas don’t count, generally being well-produced and with reasonable production values. Just how reasonable is brought home by comparing them to this… Admittedly, I had to cope with it being entirely in Spanish with no subtitles. I kinda hoped that watching north of four hundred episodes of Hispanic TV would magically instill in me the ability to speak Spanish. Turns out, this is not the case. Who knew? But I think I am on fairly safe ground in declaring this a bargain basement comedy-action cross, which exists to provide PG-rated titillation as much as thrills or laughs. 

I’m informed this is the second in a series, which has reached at least three entries (though only this one can be found in the IMDb), so there appears to be sufficient of a local market to justify its existence. It seems to start with the good girls – Los Bikinis Rosas, who do indeed wear pink bikinis – celebrating with their boss after another successful mission. But it’s not long before they are called into action again, going up against the bad-girl gang, the Cobras Negras, for possession of a microchip which… presumably can do something or other of importance. That bit was lost in translation (or lack thereof). No prizes for guessing what shade of bikinis are preferred by the Negras.

This colour co-ordination is probably a good thing, since the four women on each side are almost entirely interchangeable in appearance. The Rosas have a token blonde, while the Negras have a girl in glasses, who is presumably the evil nerd of the bunch or something. [I was basically making up my own plot there.] As appears semi-customary, a masked wrestler shows up, in this case the Rosas getting their training from Huracán Ramírez. Which is impressive, since he died seven years prior to this film’s 2013 release. This would not have fazed the Mexican audience. Luchadors, particularly the masked ones, tend to be near immortal, with characters being passed down the generations, sometimes as “el Hijo de” (the son of), or simply by taking over the mask, as appears the case here.

It’s not very interesting, and has horrible pacing. For example, the Negras seem to have their headquarters located in a basement below a food court at the back of a mall. So, we get to see them – apparently in real time – going through the mall… taking the elevator to the basement… and walking from there to the room in question. It’s a sequence even more gratuitously padded than the characters’ bras. The same goes for the lengthy aerobic exercise training sequence, during which the camera appears fixed, with dedication that’s border-line impressive, on the actresses’ chests and butts. The action is not great either, though is likely stellar in comparison to the stabs at comedy, which appear mostly to consist of a flamboyant homosexual.

Half a star of this is credit for my shortcomings in Spanish, which are likely responsible for some of the issues. While her translation skills may have been helpful, I just couldn’t bring myself to inflict this one on Chris, even though her derisive snorts would have been truly epic to behold.

Dir: Julio Aldama Jr.
Star: Julio Aldama Jr., America Ramírez, Julio Zaizar, Coco Rojo

Blaze, by Krista D. Ball

  By

Literary rating: ★★★
Kick-butt quotient: ☆☆½

“Kiner and I have fought many battles together. All of us knights have seen our closest friends cut down in front of us. Some of us have seen family killed before our eyes. Even the most battle-hardened soldier can lose their minds when the blood flows. Always concentrate on staying alive. Focus on your target. Mourn your friends later. Honor them by staying alive.”

The half-elven Lady Bethany has shattered the glass ceiling for women in the military forces, rising to third in command, a position she has achieved on her own merit. Of course, it probably didn’t hurt that she is daughter of the goddess Apaxia, although her ancestry causes as many problems as it solves. This is due partly to some pesky secret prophecies which outline – in typically vague prophetic ways, with references to the “Diamond” and the “Viper” – Bethany’s very important place in future events, and partly her estranged twin sister, Sarissa. For she has turned to the dark side of magic, insanely jealous of her sister’s success, with the emphasis squarely on “insanely” there…

Meanwhile, Bethany feels a strange attraction to one of the new soldiers she is supposed to be training, the human Arrago, who seems to have a role to fulfill in prophecy as well. Yet what will happen when he finds out about Bethany’s divine origins? This makes for a solid enough bit of fantasy, though I am not certain it stands up to scrutiny. For instance, it’s well into the book before we discover Bethany actually had another sister, Drea, one who was not quite so gloriously barking mad. This was a “Wait, what?” moment, and something you think might have been mentioned when discussing her twin.

The other demerit is for Sarissa. Not that she’s a bad villainess. Quite the contrary: she’s so good at being bad, she’s an amazing scene-stealer. I’d rather have read more about her…ah, interesting world-view, rather than the Bethany-Arrago romance, which never manages to be convincing [I’ve always felt any human/elven romance is going to be on shaky ground, due to the difference in lifespans]. At the risk of treading on spoilers, it’s a real shame it turns out Sarissa isn’t quite the big bad she’s initially painted. That’s a pity, and significantly decreases the odds of me going back for subsequent volumes.

What I did like was Bethany’s interactions with colleagues such as fellow lords Jovan and Kiner: there’s a familiarity in these which rings true (and a crudeness to their humour which is not quite what I’ve experienced from fantasy elves). I just wish we’d been given more evidence of the heroine’s skills. It’s well past the half-way point before we see anything more than the literary equivalent of training montages. When they show up, they’re undeniably impressive – even before she has tapped into her full, literally god-given “power” – and I’d love to see a feature version of this, with Gwendoline Christie playing both sisters. But I do have to wonder how the long, red-haired Bethany mutated into the woman shown on the cover…

Author: Krista D. Ball
Publisher: Amazon Digital Services, available through Amazon, both as an e-book and a paperback
a.k.a. Tranqulity’s Blaze
Book 1 of 5 in the Tranqulity series.

Bancroft: season one

  By

★★★½
“The thin grey line.”

When young detective Katherine Stevens (Marsay) gets assigned a batch of cold cases by her boss, Clifford Walker (Edmondson), it seems a task of little interest. The batch includes the brutal stabbing murder of a young woman, 27 years previously – coincidentally, the first cop on the scene, Elizabeth Bancroft (Parish), is now a senior officer. Indeed, she’s competing with Walker for the job of soon-to-retire Detective Chief Superintendent, and bringing down local crime boss Athif Kamara would all but guarantee her the job. So, nothing will be allowed to stand in Bancroft’s way. Not Walker, and certainly not a rookie detective, poking her nose into cases which should stay closed. Because three decades of forensic advances mean that the murder Stevens has re-opened may no longer be quite as insoluble as it was…

The fact that the show’s title is Bancroft, and not “Stevens”, tells you where the focus is here, on the villainess – or, you could perhaps argue, anti-heroine. Perhaps the closest comparable show I can think of is Dexter, particularly in that both shows have a central character who hides their true nature in the police force. In Bancroft’s case, the murderous tendencies have also been very deeply buried; however, it comes out again when her position is threatened by Stevens’s investigation. Yet there’s plenty of evidence of her generally “flexible” morality, shall we say. For instance, she brokers an agreement with Athif’s younger brother, letting him take over, in exchange for information on his sibling and a tacit agreement to co-operate with her in future. The logic is pure pragmatism: someone you know, and can control, is better than a wild-card. It makes for fascinating viewing.

Bancroft is also very manipulative, as can be seen in her relationship with the impressionable Stevens. At least initially, the younger police officer looks up to her as a role-model, and that makes it easy for Bancroft to twist Stevens to her ends, such as withholding evidence discovered from Walker. But over the arc of the four 45-minute episodes which form the first series, Stevens shows dogged persistence and determination as well, and gets a crash course in maturity. As well, perhaps, as one in striking a balance between your career and your personal life, something with which Bancroft appears always to have struggled.

The main thing preventing this from getting a higher rating, and likely our seal of approval, is the unsatisfactory final episode, which simply leaves too many loose ends dangling – not least the one resulting from the picture above. The show has been renewed for a second series: fortunate, because if it hadn’t, the inadequate conclusion offered would have caused us to join the large mob with torches, marching on the producers’ building.  To be honest, the four-part arc was likely too short to tell the story they wanted to, and it might be fairer to judge this after the next batch of episodes. But in its title character, there’s plenty to appreciate, offering the kind of woman still rarely seen on television, and is alone enough to ensure we’ll be tuning back in.

Creator: Kate Brooke
Star: Sarah Parish, Faye Marsay, Amara Karan, Adrian Edmondson

BloodLust, by Auryn Hadley

  By

Literary rating: ★★
Kick-butt quotient: ☆☆☆½

Three millennia previously, the Terrans landed on the planet of Ogun, and took it over. The native Iliri, though in many ways superior to the new arrivals in both mental and physical ability, ended up subjugated. They are now very definitely second-class citizens, only remembering vague legends of their once-proud past. One such is Salryc Luxx, a rare pure-bred Iliri who is a private in the army. Despite the fierce prejudice against “her kind”, she gets a try-out for the Black Blades, the military’s elite special forces. Which, it turns out, is a haven for Iliri and their supporters. Sal becomes the first woman in the unit, and her talents – including the ability to shape shift – quickly become an essential part of the team, allowing her to become one of their top covert assassins. However, her presence also causes significant static, not least her relationship with the Black Blades’ commanding officer, Blaec.

Oh, dear. Who knew there was a market for thinly-veiled identity politics crossed with soft porn? But let’s start with the positives, such as the well-considered setting – I liked the way that metal is an extremely rare commodity, helping explain the lack of both firearms and vehicles (though it’s not yet quite clear how the Terrans got to Ogun? Wooden spaceships?). Hadley also has a good hand on the action aspects, with Sal’s missions being tense and bloody. However, Sal is a bit of a Mary Sue, being stronger, faster and just downright better than any man, even including the hand-picked soldiers of the Black Blades. It’s all a bit too obviously author wish-fulfillment.

Still, it is considerably less problematic than the relationships here, not least the idiocy of Blaec. For a commanding officer, he’s as dumb as a log, right from when he has a one-night stand with a woman, and lets her dictate a key element of the test Sal and her two rivals will go through the next day. For the woman is Sal, using her shape-shifting talents. Well played, it has to be said. But he then starts an actual relationship with her, in defiance of all (very sensible) military orders of officers bedding subordinates. And my eye-rolling reached epic levels when it turns out that Sal’s post-operation reaction is to go full-on nympho – hence the title, I guess – in particular, getting sweaty with colleague and fellow assassin, Cyno. Which makes Blaec go all sad puppy.

Everything about these aspects feel just… wrong, on so many levels. From the Goodreads reviews, it appears this is an entry from the “reverse harem” fiction genre, in which, according to UrbanDictionary.com, a single girl is liked and followed by a bunch of handsome men. You learn something new every day, I guess. If this had been mentioned a bit more in the Amazon blurb, rather than being described as, “a powerful and intriguing female lead, the likes of which the fantasy genre hasn’t yet seen,” I might well have skipped it.

Author: Ella Summers
Publisher: Spotted Horse Productions, available through Amazon as both an e-book and paperback.
Book #1 of 7 in the ‘Rise of the Iliri’ series.

Blue Line

  By

★★½
“Behind the masks”

Small world. Well, small-ish. I used to work for the same online media company as one of the scriptwriters of this, though our paths there never crossed in any meaningful sense. That’s probably about as interesting a factoid i.e. “not very”, as this film. Indeed, outside of some gratuitous strip-club breasts, it feels like it could have strayed in from a slow weekend on Hallmark. Battered wife Lindsay (Ladd) teams up with longtime stripper friend Nicole (Moore), and commit a string of armed robberies around their local area in Connecticut, their identities hidden with Halloween masks and voice-changers. They’re building up towards a big score, which will involve relieving Lindsay’s abusive husband, Seth (DeNucci) of a crisp $1.8 million dollars in cash. But increasingly, sniffing around the robberies is Detective Broza (Sizemore), a city cop who has recently been transferred to the town: Nicole starts a relationship with him, ostensibly to see how the investigation is going. But is that her real motive?

There’s not very much logic to the script here. If the women are going to get away with $1.8 million, why are they bothering to hold-up convenience stores, especially since they torch the loot. Is this supposed to be some kind of practice? It’s entirely counter-productive, since all it does it bring down the full force of local law enforcement (which admittedly, is not much!), and puts potential targets on their guard. From the get-go, beginning with the raid on the store, and progressing through their  robbery of a private poker game (one of whose participants is, amusingly, former WWE and nWo star, Kevin Nash!), these appear to be there simply to try and enliven the cinematic proceedings, rather than because they make sense. Much the same goes for Nicole’s day-job as a stripper. This exists, purely for titillation (and not very much titillation at that; if Moore herself actually got naked at any point, I must have blinked and missed it).

I can, at least, see where the makers were trying to go with the relationship between Lindsay and Nicole: aiming for a twisted version on the “Thelma & Louise” partnership, with two contrasting personalities which have bonded, in part through common adversity. Ladd plays the quieter and more cautious member of the pair, clearly wounded by the dysfunctional relationship in which she’s trapped. Moore is, however, a bit more fun to watch, clearly perfectly willing to manipulate anyone necessary, including both her partner and Det. Broza. But the two items never quite gel with that T&L synergy, this duo eventually ending up as rather less than the sum of their parts. It might have been better if they’d concentrated on one or the other, combining the effective aspects of each character into one truly captivating person, rather than the slightly interesting ones, who struggle to hold the viewer’s attention, especially fighting to escape the gravitational pull of the more doubtful plot elements.

Dir: Jacob Cooney
Star: Jordan Ladd, Nikki Moore, Tom Sizemore, Tom DeNucci
a.k.a. The Assault

Maniac Nurses

  By

★★½
“Nurse! The screens!”

That this Belgian flick starts off with a dedication to Ilona Staller (a.k.a. Italian porn star, Cicciolina), artist provocateur Jeff Koons, and Traci Lorde, likely tells you it should not be taken too seriously. Certainly, the amusement to be found largely requires the viewer to be aware of the genres to which this is a homage. This is best exemplified by the Ilsa trilogy, yet there are also aspects borrowed from women-in-prison and Naziploitation in general. The more you’re familiar with those, the more you’ll get out of this: if you’re not, this will seem just a bad movie. A really bad movie.

The plot, such as it is, takes place in a facility of indeterminate, yet likely medical, purpose overseen by the evil and sadistic Ilsa (Brown) – actually, let’s just take “evil and sadistic” as read for the rest of the characters, since it applies to pretty much everyone. There’s her second-in-command, Greta (Farago), who is increasingly jealous of the attention Ilsa pays to the younger, prettier Sabrina (Makay), who spends her time reading poorly-drawn comic books when not engaging in random acts of carnage.

Thinking about it, the latter element also applies equally to everyone else here. As does Sabrina’s fondness for lingerie. Anyway, when not hijacking cars on the nearby roads, or hunting those unfortunate enough to camp in the woods, these maniac nurses are torturing their victims. Yet Greta’s jealousy eventually leads her to reveal the (not very) shocking truth about Sabrina’s origins. This triggers the most casual of rampages by the latter, in which she wanders round the facility at a moderate pace, gunning down everyone in her path.

The most notable artistic element here though, is the narration – something which may have been added by distributor Troma, since he is not mentioned in the film’s credits. If you’ve seen the opening of Faster Pussycat, this is basically that kind of over-ripe exposition, yet goes on for virtually the entire duration. It’s surreal, borderline insane and likely further evidence this is intended as a thoroughly self-aware pastiche of cult, B-movies, whose incoherent narrative is a deliberate stylistic choice. As such, it’s almost bulletproof, critically speaking. When a film is intended to be terrible, saying it is, doesn’t have much impact.

While the actresses here are certainly easy on the eye, their performances are virtually non-existent – although in their defense, they could have been Meryl Streep, and would still probably not have survived the dubbing. Again: this is quite possibly intentional. Yet, even as I certainly got the joke, it was one which out-stayed its welcome. The genres in question are ripe for parody – and I speak as a fan of them, more or less. If done right, you get the glory of something like Reform School Girls, which had energy, invention and Sybil Danning. This needs more of all three. Particularly Sybil Danning.

Dir: Leon Paul De Bruyn [as “Harry M. Love”]
Star: Susanna Makay, Hajni Brown, Celia Farago, Nicole A. Gyony
a.k.a. Maniac Nurses Find Ecstacy