Tag: revenge

Firecracker

  By

★★★
“Less a damp squib than expected.”

Admittedly, I did have to pause this five minutes in, because I had a strong sense that I’d seen it before. Turns out that wasn’t the case, I was just confusing it with another Cirio Santiago movie. There are quite a few candidates, but I think it was most likely Angel Fist. For both films feature blonde Americans, going to the Philippines in search of an errant sister, and have a kung-fu scene in which the heroine’s clothing proves optional, if you know what I mean and I think you do. So confusion is understandable.

The heroine here is Susanne Carter (Kesner, who ended up becoming well-known as an Orson Welles historian!), whose sister has vanished after getting too close to a criminal gang run by Erik (Metcalfe). They are nothing if not broad in their empire, which as well as the usual drugs, prostitution and gambling, also include martial arts death matches, put on in what appears to be a supper club. Dinner and a show, as they say. This is convenient, since whaddya know, Susanne has a sixth dan black belt in such things. She uses her skills to impress Erik’s similarly kung-fu able henchman, Chuck Donner (Hinton) and get close to the operation, seeking the truth about her sibling’s fate. However, turns out there is already a police operation investigating the gang, and Susanne’s presence puts that undercover case at risk.

The martial arts here are… not great. Kesner just about reaches decent on occasion, although there seems to be clear doubling going on for the more athletic moments. However, the film certainly has no shortage of action, and some of the supporting cast are good enough that the film passes muster as overall entertainment. Easily the greatest sequence is the one where Susanne is pursued on her way home by two street thugs, and through a series of misadventures, her costume is steadily reduced, going from an evening dress and high heels to, by the end of the fight, just a pair of panties. I can honestly say I have never previously seen anyone’s bra be cut open with a scythe in the middle of a fight.

That sequence, along with the villain’s demise – bamboo stakes get shoved into both his eyes simultaneously! – and the quite glorious poster (click on the image to see it full size), are sufficient to make me willing to overlook most of the film’s obvious flaws. This is very much the kind of thing  meant, when people talk about the eighties being a golden age of action movies on VHS. This is certainly not a good movie, fun though it is to see the likes of Diaz – an almost ever-present sidekick, who was to the Philippino film industry, what Michael Ripper was to Hammer Films. Yet if I’d stumbled across this for one of my all-night video sessions during the decade, it would have left me thoroughly satisfied, having given me everything I was looking for.

Dir: Cirio H. Santiago
Star: Jillian Kesner, Darby Hinton, Ken Metcalfe, Vic Diaz

Russia Girl by Kenneth Rosenberg

  By

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

Natalia Nicolaeva in a 19-year-old, living with her parents on a farm in Transnistria, which I imagine most people would be hard-pushed to find on a map. Per Wikipedia, “it is a breakaway de facto state in a narrow strip of land between the river Dniester and the Ukrainian border that is internationally recognized as part of Moldova.” Now you know. She lets her friend, Sonia, convince her into taking up a job offer overseas which – probably inevitably – turns out to be the gateway to them becoming the victims of sex traffickers, imprisoned in a Turkish brothel. Natalia manages to escape, though pays a heavy price, and the man in charge of the gang, Goran Zigic, has not forgotten her either.

When his revenge reaches back across the continent to Transnistria, Natalia has to defend her family. Fortunately, she has an ally in Gregor Multinovic, a shady individual who has taken up residence locally, and about whom any number of whispered rumours circulate. He knows of Zigic, and helps prepare Natalia for what she needs to do, as she takes the fight to her enemy. This is likely a necessary angle, in order to establish an ordinary farm girl as a plausible opponent to the Serbian mafia, and I felt Rosenberg handled this very well, without letting Gregor take over for his heroine. It does still require a bit of suspension of disbelief in some elements, e.g. Zigic not bother to hide or beef up security at his home after Natalia’s first attempt. But it’s no more of a problem than you’ll find in many films.

It does take quite a while to get to that point. The first third is concerned with her initial capture, abuse and eventual escape. It all seems almost scarily plausible; by and large, it likely reflects the sad fate of many Eastern European women every year. The middle portion covers the return to her village, training under her mentor (though this is largely skipped), and subsequent return to Istanbul. Again, however, considering this is intended to be an origin story, that’s fine, and the eventual payoff is solid and acceptable. While the first in a series, it wraps up neatly without a cliffhanger or loose ends, which is always nice.

In terms of its setting, I was reminded a little of how Killing Eve‘s Villanelle came to be, though it’s clear that Natalia does not have anything like the same psychopathic streak. There is something of the same sense of a butterfly emerging from a caterpillar, in Natalia’s transformation through the hand of fate, from someone whose life is the epitome of peace and quiet. By the time we reach the end, it’s clear that has gone forever, and it’s that sweeping character arc, along which the reader travels with her, that is perhaps this book’s most outstanding feature.

Author: Kenneth Rosenberg
Publisher: Amazon Digital Services, available through Amazon, both as a paperback and an e-book
Book 1 of 3 in the Natalia Nicolaeva Thriller series

Sentinelle

  By

★★★★
“Jane Wick, but it’s complicated.”

Klara (Kurylenko) is a French soldier who returns home after a tour of duty in the Middle East. But the homeland security mission to which she’s assigned – basically, patrolling sea-fronts and shopping malls – hardly seems like a credible use of her talents. However, she’s also suffering from PTSD, and it’s easy to see why the authorities decided she was better off kept away from the front lines. Then Klara’s sister, Tania (Lima), is found on the beach in a coma after having been raped. The evidence points to Yvan, the son of prominent Russian businessman, Leonod Kadnikov (Nabokoff). But the cops can do nothing, as the Kadnikov’s have diplomatic passports. Klara, needless to say, operates under no such restrictions and vows that if the justice system won’t make the perpetrator pay, then she will.

On the one hand, this is a straightforward revenge flick, though it’s revenge by proxy, with Klara not directly the victim. However, what I liked is that, while she obviously has the skill-set to pull off her mission, she’s far from invincible, even if the Kadnikov’s need to fire their security advisor. Indeed, there are points at which Karla’s straight-line approach to the problem, causes more problems than it solves. For instance, contrast the nightclub fight in John Wick with the one here. John breezed through the scenario virtually unscathed, dispatching victims with ease, in a plethora of headshots. Klara spends what seems like an eternity brawling against two opponents, and never even gets out of the bathroom. That said, the violence here packs a genuine wallop, with some startling moments which left me feeling certain someone was going home with a concussion that day. It’s definitely quality over quantity.

Former Bond girl Kurylenko has graced these pages before, in The Courier and The Assassin Next Door, but this is probably her best effort yet. She is in almost every scene, and does a solid job of holding the audience’s attention, with a sympathetic portrayal of a damaged, yet still extremely dangerous, heroine. She also demonstrates her flair for language, switching effortlessly between French, Russian and Arabic. In real life, she speaks English and Spanish too, as well as bits of others. In 2013 on Twitter, she said, “I want to speak ALL the languages.” [She also knows how to say “I love squirrels” in many of them…]

Coming in at a brisk 80 minutes, it does still take a little while to reach the meat of its topic, The assault at the core of the film (which, incidentally, we don’t see – and nor do we need to) takes place not far short of half-way in, though the pace never feels as if it’s dragging. I also have some questions about the ending, which out of nowhere seems to suggest a Nikita-like program of black ops assassins, created by the government out of captured murderers. Though to be honest, I’d not mind seeing such a sequel, and definitely would not want to be the one on whom Klara was unleashed.

Dir: Julien Leclercq
Star: Olga Kurylenko, Marilyn Lima, Michel Nabokoff, Carole Weyers

Jessi’s Girls

  By

★★★★
“And not a Rick Springfield in sight.”

It’s about the year 1880, and Jessica Hartwell (Currie) is heading out West in a wagon with her preacher husband. They encounter the gang of Frank Brock (Frank); they repeatedly rape Jessica, before shooting her husband fatally, and leaving her for dead. She survives, returning to health with the help of prospector Rufe, who sports an unfortunate, obviously fake beard, yet also teaches the young woman how to shoot. For Jessi has vengeance on her mind, and to assist her in this path, she liberates three other women from the custody of Sheriff Clay (Lund). There’s outlaw Rachel (Jennifer Bishop); saloon girl Claire (Regina Carrol); and Indian Kana (the not-exactly Indian Stern), who had been a part of Frank’s gang until he abandoned her.

While director Adamson was best known for his horror films, some of his work has been covered here before: The Female Bunch and I Spit on Your Corpse! This is his best entry yet, which is straightforward, short on pretension and all the better for it. It certainly doesn’t hang around; we’re barely a few minutes in before the reason for revenge is under way, and it’s not easy viewing. It sits particularly uncomfortably, since just a few minutes earlier, the audience was enjoying the sight of the lead actress (also seen in Mama’s Dirty Girls) skinny-dipping. For the film doesn’t forget the sex in exploitation. Jessi is surprisingly quick to forget her late husband and bed the Sheriff, with most of the other female cast similarly disrobing at some point.

On the other hand, there are occasionally surprising elements, such as Tana’s refusal to help a wounded Apache; often, films lump all native Americans together, forgetting that tribes were sometimes disparate groups, who hated each other. It’s a decision which causes conflict – of the muddy, cat-fight kind – between her and Claire, a diversion on the otherwise fairly straight arrow journey towards the expected and likely inevitable confrontation with Brock. This, along with other forms of more brutal attrition, do mean that by the time Jessica arrives at her target’s hideout, the film’s title is no longer accurate. Indeed, Jessi is back to ploughing an almost solitary furrow on her mission, made all the more hazardous by Frank knowing she’s on her way.

The supporting actresses are not exactly given more than simple sketches, yet manage to make them feel like actual people. The focus is firmly on Jessica, and I liked Currie in the role, with her managing to portray both a vulnerable side and a steely determination that will not be swayed from her intended path of retribution. Her coolest moment is probably at the end, lighting sticks of dynamite off her cheroot and tossing them to great effect. Admittedly, when it comes to the finale, Brock and his men tend to demonstrate all the shooting skills of Imperial Stormtroopers, and you wonder how they ever managed to rob anyone. A great ending though, with a twist I did not see coming, providing the icing on the cake of a unexpectedly pleasant surprise.

Dir: Al Adamson
Star: Sondra Currie, Ellyn Stern, Geoffrey Land, Ben Frank

Tomboys

  By

★★★½
“What happens in the barn, stays in the barn…”

Dark in literally every sense of the word, this Australian film unfolds in close to real-time. Five women, fed up with the abuse of a local sexual predator, kidnap him and take him to a building on a farm owned by one of them, to teach him a lesson. However, it’s not long before their revenge begins to go off the rails. Firstly, not everyone is quite as on board as with the plan. Kat (Day) is the most gung-ho, intent on exacting the most brutal flavour of retribution. But at the other end is Imogen (Hall): barely have things got under way, and she’s already having second thoughts, as the apparent weak link. Then, after the savagery has got under way, the women get a phone-call, from their intended target. Yep, they got the wrong victim. But is anyone really innocent? Or should they just do a twofer?

This certainly doesn’t feel it was made over a decade ago; its themes are right up there with a post-#MeToo world. On that basis, it was interesting to compare this to the woeful recent Black Christmas remake, watched the same weekend. which was also (at least in its early stages) about a group of women coming to terms with “rape culture”. Tomboys adopts a much more direct approach, yet is also rather more nuanced, offering a broader spectrum of opinions, even as it’s basically five chicks in a shed for an hour and a half. Which tells you a lot about the dismal failure of Christmas, I suspect. This, however, doesn’t shy from violence: not so much in an explicit depiction as in reactions and results, which are arguably just as horrific. You wonder how Cat could possibly justify the savagery in which she indulges. Then, towards the end, you hear her story, and it’s thoroughly ugly, repellent stuff. Never mind, Cat – please continue wielding that blow-torch…

However, I was irrationally annoyed by the cinematic style, with Hill pushing the camera in too close, and also keeping the lighting at the dimmest level. I get why he opted for this approach, to create a claustrophobic intensity. It doesn’t mean I have to like it, however. For some reason, I prefer being able to see what the hell is going on when watching a film, and there are times here when I simply can’t. [The still, top, is considerably more well-illuminated than 95% of the film] Not sure we necessarily needed five female characters, either; Cat, Imogen and one other would probably be enough. Yet this remains solid where it matters most, in the story and performances. There were sufficient twists to keep me engaged, and the main roles were well-differentiated, despite the limited setting. This could very easily be a stage play, albeit one harkening back to the days of Grand Guignol. It’s a production I wouldn’t mind going to see.

Dir: Nathan Hill
Star: Candice Day, Naomi Davis, Sash Milne, Allie Hall

Girls, Guns and Blood

  By

★½
“It’s trying. So very trying…”

Maybe I’m getting too old for this kind of thing. Perhaps there was a time in my callow youth when I would have been grateful for the light-to-moderate amount of gratuitous nudity which this contains. Now, though? Its flaws overwhelm any such merits. Or maybe it was the fact that I watched this while dozed up to the eyeballs on DayQuil, and frankly, coughing up phlegm proved to be a more satisfactory pursuit.

It takes place in a supposed “brothel” run by Monique (Love). Quotes used advisedly, since it looks considerably more like someone’s house. A party of high-rollers are scheduled to be coming in, dropping thousands of dollars: though quite why they want to, escapes me, since the staff here are no more than “somewhat attractive.” You could probably catch better fish with a bottle of Jager in your average night-club on a Friday evening. Anyway, doubts about this aside, it turns out this “party” is actually a robbery, who loot the place after abusing the women. 

Needless to say, they’re not standing for that, so Kitty (Nguyen), Trix (Amber), Beretta (Valentien) and the rest of the girls ride out in hot pursuit, intent on recovering the ill-gotten gains and punishing the perpetrators. Fortunately, the gang have gone their separate ways, which makes it easier for the women to take them down: the old “Let’s split up!” mistake. But perhaps things aren’t quite as cut and dried as they appear. Maybe there’s a snake in the grass, who is quite happy to let her fellow hookers thin out the herd on her behalf, because the fewer slices of the pie there end up being, the better it will be for the survivors.

It’s all tiresomely amateur. Not least, the feeble attempts at comic relief, such as the gangster kingpin, Kaiser, whose droning complaints about lost money to a ski-mask clad ninja, go on way past what could remotely be considered entertaining. The repeated us of Six Million Dollar Man sound effects also should also have been strangled at birth. The pacing in general is awful, and the lead performances generally reflect the fact that most of the actresses are better known for adult work than their Broadway resumes. Nguyen and Love are, at least relatively credible, capable of walking and delivering lines at the same time. Some of the others? Not so much. Let’s leave it at that.

There were a couple of moments in the action which did actually work. Though I’m not sure how much sense they could be said to make, e.g. one of the women suddenly pulling a flaming sword out of… well, I’m not even going to hazard a guess at that. But when you’re left yearning for the understated subtleties of an Andy Sidaris film, there’s clearly something wrong. It might have succeeded better with alcohol, but that would likely not have combined well with my medications. Not a risk I was prepared to take, at least.

Dir: Thegin German + Robert Rowland
Star: Christine Nguyen, Britney Amber, Kleio Valentien, Rebecca Love

Marie

  By

★½
“A not-so fair cop”

After an incident where she shoots dead a woman armed only with a toy gun, Marie (DeCianni) quite the police force to become a housewife. However, her husband, Barry (Spadaro), has some dodgy friends, in particular, Nadi (Regina, who also co-wrote this), a man with ties to organized crime. Barry falls behind on payments, and an unfortunate car “accident” befalls him: a recent large life-insurance policy named Nadi as the beneficiary. It’s all very shady, as Marie’s old police captain (Session) admits. However, there is just not enough evidence for the authorities to take action. That’s not an issue for Marie, however, who decides to take revenge for the loss of her husband, against Nadi and his associates.

This is almost entirely terrible, to the point that I have to wonder whether it was actually some bizarre project by actual organized crime to launder money. If so, I’m just hoping that enough years have elapsed since its release, that the statute of limitations has passed, and so me mentioning this won’t send them round to make me an offer I can’t refuse. It’s mostly a scripting issue, with far too many scenes that serve no purpose, and a heroine whose actions make little or no logical sense. Such as storming a mob birthday party, complete with gratuitous strippers (really, right from the opening, it feels like every bad boob-job in the Tri-State area got a callback for a role somewhere in this), and taking her shirt off in order to blend in, so she can whack one of them.

If DeCianni isn’t terrible, Marie seems to take a delight in announcing her moves, in a way which would, in the real world, simply make it painfully easy for her targets to take her out. Well, if they were halfway competent, at least. And the Captain seems perfectly happy for her to continue on her vigilante ways, showing absolutely no regard for law and order. About the only moment of interest sees her going above Nadi’s head to his boss, in order to suggest a partnership that would be to both of their advantages. However, this is rapidly discarded, in favour of a climactic “surprise” that a) is entirely unsurprising, and b) makes as little overall sense as anything else in this dog.

In lieu of writing anything more about this painful experience, I will instead note that a decade later, Carpenter and Regina would make Jesse, in which “Police detective Jesse turns vigilante as she investigates her brother’s murder and enters into a world of crime, corruption, and shocking deception.” Save swapping husband for brother, that seems perilously close to what we got here, not least because an IMDb review says the brother “got involved with a mafia loan shark and couldn’t repay the thousands that he owed.” Another review hints at the same twist we get here. Hmm… Maybe they did better second time around? I’m not inclined to bet on it.

Dir: Fred Carpenter
Star: Donna DeCianni, Paul Regina, Charles Sessions, John Spadaro

Kat, by K.L. McRae

  By

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

Firstly, I’m still trying to figure out the relevance of the cover (right). With a heroine named Kat, why is there a dog pictured? It’s not as if she even owns one at any point. The “size of the fight” line… well, tenuous at best. I should probably have listened to my instincts and skipped this frankly implausible tale, about a teenage girl who is smart, attractive and a black-belt martial artist with 34E breasts. Yet she ends up having to get work as a stripper, a job at which she is naturally brilliant (thanks to adopting a pseudo-Xena persona), in order to keep her alcoholic mother out of debt. She breaks the arm of a particularly unpleasant customer, Alex, an act which gets her the attention of Alex’s business partner. He runs McKenzie Personal Security, and offers Kat a job as a trainee bodyguard.

She and the boss, a black Scotsman who is terminally ill, end up falling in love, while Alex, who had been set to inherit the business until Kat showed up, plots against her with his cronies. This ends in a nightmare gang-rape, setting up Kat to take vengeance. Oh, and the all-powerful MPS has a “black” division, which kills pedophiles and the like for money. If you are not going, “Wait, what?” at multiple points during the above synopsis, you’re a more tolerant reader than I. So much of this sounded like dubious sexual fantasy, I was genuinely surprised to discover the author is a woman. I mean, it could still be dubious sexual fantasy; I just tend to expect that kind of thing more from male writers.

The structure is all over the place. After she is attacked, Kat’s actions seem completely bizarre and pointless, and the book fast-forwards through a couple of years, until a later explanation that falls some way short of convincing. Meanwhile, neither Alex nor his allies come over as any kind of credible threat: in particular, their assault on her rural farmhouse is portrayed as painfully inept. Which, I concede, may be part of the point. As the book says, “vile bullies…might have some skills but put them up against someone who really knows their stuff and the only chance they had was blind luck.” During this, Kat sits back in her stronghold and lets her allies take care of the threat, bringing the villains to her like a Christmas present for her amusement. She certainly spends more time training in martial arts, than actually putting her skills into practice. In fact, she probably spends more time attending karaoke nights than being an action heroine. I was somewhat surprised Kat did not turn out to be a classically-trained opera singer, while she was at it.

All told, sadly, this book turned out to be a bit of a dog. I guess the cover was representative enough, after all.

Author: K.L. McRae
Publisher: Little Silver Publishing Ltd, available through Amazon, both as a paperback and an e-book
1 of 2 in the Kat series.

Becky

  By

★★★½
“Dear diary: my teen angst bullshit has a body count.”

Becky (Wilson) is the quintessential troubled teenager. Since her mother died, she has become increasingly estranged from her father, Jeff (McHale, replacing the original choice, Simon Pegg, who had to drop out due to scheduling conflicts), not least because of his new girlfriend, Kayla. Dad arranges a weekend away for everyone at the family cabin to try and repair things. However, relationship problems rapidly become the least of everyone’s concerns. For a quartet of escaped Aryan Brotherhood convicts, led by Dominick (James, going completely and effectively against type), have turned up, seeking a key they had hid on the property. Not too happy to find an inter-racial family, they capture everyone except Becky, who had stormed off in one of her huffs.

But hell hath no fury like a pissed-off teenage girl. Especially once Dominick starts torturing her father, the one person about whom Becky truly cares. Naturally, you do need to be able to accept that a 13-year-old – even one as unquestionably highly-motivated and vindictive as Becky – can take out hardened criminals, especially largely without the equalizer of a firearm. Yet the script does a fairly good job of overcoming this, setting up scenarios that allow her to use the tools at hand to her advantage. It helps some of her adversaries aren’t exactly the sharpest tools in the box, stupidity being a significant factor in their deaths by impalement and outboard motor.

The script also does a good job with villains Dominick and the 7-foot tall Apex (former WWE wrestler Maillet), who are respectively smarter and given greater depth than the bad guys usually receive in this kind of film. The latter, in particular, gets more of a character arc than anyone else bar Becky, becoming a surprisingly sympathetic character for a neo-Nazi. This development definitely helps the movie, when Becky is not extracting her furious, bloody vengeance [For instance, we could have done without the flashbacks to Becky playing the ukulele for her terminally ill mother. No, really]. Though it’s Dominick who provides the film’s most insanely hardcore moment, involving a scissors and an eyeball.

However, there is a fatal mis-step by having the movie’s climax take place after dark. This leaves the audience peering into the gloom, trying to figure out what’s going on. I’m still not sure what was being pulled behind the ATV on which Becky rides into her final battle. Going by its effect, I’m guessing at some kind of industrial strength earth-tilling equipment… This shadowy coyness is at odds with the in-your-face energy the film had shown up to that point, and which had it contending for a spot in Top 10, of any genre, for 2020. In the end, it probably falls just short, yet is still an enjoyable slice of brutal, hormonal savagery. As the end credits rolled, my mind drifted off to visions of a Hanna vs. Becky crossover story. Hey, we can all dream, can’t we?

Dir: Jonathan Milott, Cary Murnion
Star: Lulu Wilson, Kevin James, Joel McHale, Robert Maillet

Don’t Cry Mommy

  By

★★½
“And the first shall be last”

I say that, since this Korean film appears to have been at least a partial inspiration for not one, but two Bollywood films which were recently reviewed here: Maatr and Mom. And, indeed, Thai telenovela Revenge also has something of the same theme: a mother who seeks vengeance against those who raped her daughter. If I’d seen this first, it would probably have had a greater impact. As is, even though not the film’s fault, it feels over-familiar. What is the film’s fault is a tone which appears engineered to be as depressing as possible, by any means possible. While fair enough in some aspects – you can’t argue it’s inappropriate for the material – this reaches its peak in an unforgivably melodramatic moment where a cake shows up with the title of the film on it. I’m fairly sure that eye-rolling and a derisive snort was not the intended reaction.

It does possess a couple of minor twists. When daughter Eun-Ah (Nam) is assaulted by a gang of fellow scholars, they videotape the attack. The threat of posting this is then used to blackmail her into further humiliating acts. It’s not really much of a surprise when this eventually triggers further tragedy. To the film’s credit, it’s not very interested in the assault, which is depicted in just a few seconds; it’s certainly not emphasized or stressed in the way some entries in the rape-revenge genre do. However, neither does it seem particularly interested in the revenge side, which is crammed into the last 20 minutes or so, in an almost perfunctory fashion. There’s no sense of catharsis to be found for Yoo-Lim (Yoo Sun), and by extension, not for the audience either. Which may be the point –  yet it doesn’t make for much… “fun”. Not that it’s impossible for a depressing film to be worthy, from Grave of the Fireflies through to Requiem For a Dream. However, it’s really not why I’m a fan of the girls with guns genre.

But the main problem is, it’s all too predictable, by no small measure. This was apparently based on a real Korean case, but in that, the perpetrator was herself raped at the age of nine, and waited twenty-one years before killing her attacker. I can’t help thinking that, while it might have been more difficult to turn into a screenplay, it would definitely have been a take with which I’m not familiar. Instead, this offers just another parade of predictable developments, ticking off boxes as it goes. If I’ve seen one scene in the courtroom where a group of smirking assailants get off with little or no punishment, I’ve seen half a dozen. It has gone beyond a trope, and the execution here does nothing to alleviate the severely cliched nature of the sequence. It is a pity, as I can’t fault either lead actress for their performance, which put over no shortage of emotional anguish. I just wish it had been in the service of a better story.

Dir: Yong-han Kim
Star: Yoo Sun, Nam Bo-ra, Shin Dongho, Yu Oh-seong