Now On Blu-ray: CHRISTINA, DOLEMITE, DANGEROUS MEN

In all honesty, the only reason I was even a little bit curious about Christina, a film I'd never heard of before this release, was the fact that it starred Jewel Shepard. I know she's not exactly a household name, but she does appear in one of my favorite films, Dan O'Bannon's The Return of the Living Dead, and in all of the behind the scenes material I've seen of that film, Shepard seemed like kind of a pain in the ass. Not exactly the kind of actress I would've thought could carry a whole film, but here she is, a year before Living Dead as Christina, the titular woman about town, and what a strange little movie this is.

Christina Von Belle was the heroine of a series of erotic novels through the '70s and '80s, here brought to life by director Paco Lara in the form of Jewel Shepard. Christina was an heiress and one of the world's most popular supermodels – in the books – and wealthy beyond the need to do anything she didn't want to do. One day she is kidnapped by a terrorist organization bent on demonstrating the superiority of the female of the species through gymnastics, bikini wrestling, and lots of hot, nasty, Sapphic sex. You know, the usual.

As much as Christina is up for a bit of fun, she also wants to get back home, so she escapes and ends up being trailed by all and sundry as she seduces her way through Europe on a sensual adventure. She talks to whomever she pleases, she sexes whomever she pleases, and she does whatever she pleases, all the while wearing very little clothing and very rarely saying no.

Christina is a fun little movie with perhaps more plot than is necessary, but just enough to justify the lack of hardcore sex scenes. Jewel Shepard's performance mostly consists of pretending to be in ecstasy and running away, which is fine by me. Amusingly, her entire performance is dubbed in English, even though she is American, which lends a strange quality to the film. It was filmed in Europe, where shooting with synced sound was not common, so dubbing was required for all of the films, but the fact that she wasn't called to do her own is pretty funny.

In terms of where this fits into the catalogue of early '80s erotic travelogues, I'd probably go with the recently reviewed Felicity over Christina. Christina owes quite a bit to classics like Emmannuelle and The Story of O, but the execution is a bit lacking. I enjoyed it, but I suspect it'll be a while before I pull it back off the shelf.

The Disc:

Intervision Picture Corp's Blu-ray of Christina is, unusually, bare bones. However, the A/V presentation is definitely adequate, though it's not going to blow your socks off. The stereo audio track is clear and dialogue is easy to discern, there are no surround options, and the film doesn't really need any. There are no bonus features on the disc.

When I was a teenager the video store was my happy place. From the time I was thirteen I would hop on my bike and ride down to the local mom and pop shop to check out the latest releases and window shop in the sections I was too young to rent from. One tape always stood out as the baddest of the bad. It was all blue with nothing on the cover but a smooth looking black dude holding a rocket launcher, a fine lookin' woman by his side, and the title, Dolemite.

I was fifteen the first time I saw Dolemite, and after that first viewing I was hooked. All the way through high school I'd rent Dolemite at least once a week. When I was old enough to drive, I'd hop in my car and go to the Suncoast Video in the local mall and pour over the selection in the hopes that the blue tape I'd nearly worn out would magically appear on the shelves, but it never did. I must've paid for that rental tape a hundred times over by the time I moved out of my parents' house to go to college, and still I wanted more.

Skip forward twenty years and here we are, 2016, and the outstanding cult video label Vinegar Syndrome has partnered with Xenon Pictures to bring the films of Rudy Ray Moore to Blu-ray. It's a crazy world we live in. The first in the collection is Dolemite, Rudy Ray Moore's feature film debut and one hell of a crazy ride. Dolemite is not a good movie by any conventional standards, but I'll be damned if it isn't entertaining as hell, and that's good enough for me. Rewatching the film for the first time in at least ten years was kind of a trip, but the picture definitely holds up as one of the wackiest, most gonzo, most ridiculous black action films around.

Dolemite (Rudy Ray Moore) is a hustler, a pimp, and an all-around badass. One day he's sitting around playing some cards in his jail cell when he's plucked from confinement by the local cops to help them take down drug dealer, Mean Willie Green (D'Urville Martin). Dolemite could probably do this on his own, but thankfully he has the help of the baddest lady in town, Queen Bee (Lady Reed), and an army of hookers trained in the martial arts to help him. Together they'll take down Willie Green and regain control of Dolemite's beloved nightclub, The Total Experience, and they'll do it in style.

This movie is outstanding. Dolemite is based on a character popularized by Moore in his night club comedy act. Before he was a movie star, Rudy Ray Moore made a living as a DJ, a singer, and a comedy performer putting out several raunchy-as-hell albums of dirty raps that made him famous. He decided to take Dolemite to the big screen in 1975 as the first adaptation of his recorded work and it was a surprise hit.

There is nothing slick or polished about Dolemite the movie. The character, though, is about a slick as they come, has a way with the ladies, and is unbeatable in a fight. However, the film is choppy, poorly shot, largely nonsensical, and often downright incompetently directed. Many fans my age remember watching the old Xenon VHS and DVD releases in the 1.33:1 aspect ratio in which the boom mic was frequently visible in the shot, and we just accepted it. It wasn't until I rewatched the film on this Blu-ray, properly framed in 1.85:1 widescreen that I realized the boom wasn't supposed to be there.

What Dolemite lacks in sophistication, it more than makes up for in heart. Before the movie was even a twinkle in his eye, Moore had built a career around Dolemite, so it was definitely a persona he knew. The rest of his cast, including the lovely Lady Reed as Queen Bee, weren't nearly as comfortable in their skins, with the possible exception of D'Urville Martin. Of the black cast, it was really only Martin who'd had notable experience on screen.

Martin was one of the key players of the early Blaxploitation boom with key roles in films like Black Caesar, Sheba, Baby , Boss Ni**er, Hammer, Hell Up In Harlem, and Melvin Van Peebles legendary Watermelon Man. It only made sense to have a veteran of the genre come on board to give the production the kind of professional air it needed. Dolemite was his first film as a director, and by all accounts – as well as a cursory viewing of the final product – it could have been his last. It turns out that he just wasn't very good as a director, and as a result, the film's objective quality suffered. However, he didn't do a poor enough job to kill the project entirely, as the film became a hit as it toured around the US in 1975 and spawned a new career for Moore as a movie star.

Of course, it's Moore who is the real star, and his career didn't skip a beat after the breakout success of Dolemite. This film not only spawned a sequel, the completely gonzo The Human Tornado, but also Petey Wheatstraw: The Devil's Only Son-in-Law, and Disco Godfather. The latter pair are passable enough, though Disco Godfather holds a special place in my heart for its balls out weirdness and Moore's commitment to sequined Disco jumpsuits. But it would be Dolemite that cemented Moore's place in pop culture history, and thank heavens for that.

The Disc:

Vinegar Syndrome's Blu-ray release of Dolemite comes from a brand new 2K restoration from a 35mm negative. When I first put it in, I was genuinely stunned at how good it looked, I didn't think it was possible. What Vinegar Syndrome has accomplished with this release is nothing short of miraculous, and proof that they are doing the Lord's work. For the nostalgic among us, Dolemite is not only presented in the correct 1.85:1 aspect ratio, but also the VHS era 1.33:1 “boom mic” aspect ratio. The audio track gets similar spiffing up with an uncompressed mono track that provides solid dialogue and music/effects throughout.

Not content to simply present a reference quality A/V experience, Vinegar Syndrome have provided us with a wealth of bonus material that is sure to satisfy even the most well versed Dolemite fan. First up is I, Dolemite, a making-of documentary directed by Elijah Drenner that blends contemporary interviews with many of Moore's associates with numerous archival interviews from Moore and Reed, who have both sadly passed on. The documentary not only talks about the production and release of Dolemite, but also Moore's roots in R & B music and his rise to popularity as a party record king. It's definitely worth your time.

Next up is Lady Reed Uncut, an unabridged half hour interview with Lady Reed spanning her career before and after Dolemite. The interview was conducted late in her life and she needs a bit of prodding here and there to get her stories out, but she was hilarious right up until the end. There is also a location comparison featurette showing many of the original film's locations then and now and there is surprisingly little changed from forty years ago in many cases. Finally, we get a feature length commentary with Moore biographer Mark Jason Murray in which he's able to provide a lot of context for the film as well as leaving space to include clips from some of his many first person interviews with not only Moore, but also a lot of his compatriots from the time. It's very informative, if dry from time to time.

This really is one of the finest Blu-ray experiences I've had in a while. Vinegar Syndrome have managed to put together a package that finally gives Rudy Ray Moore the credit he is due, I only wish he could've lived to see it.

Dangerous Men is an objectively terrible film.

A passion project from director John S. Rad, an Iranian immigrant, it was filmed over the course of a decade and a half and took another ten years to make it to the big screen in a minuscule, blink-and-you'll-miss-it release in 2004. One of the few people who did see it was Cinefamily programmer Hadrian Belove, who immediately fell in love and began programming it on his own. Last year it was acquired by WTF stalwarts Drafthouse Films to add to their collection of bizarro repertory films and now it's on Blu-ray.

J Hurtado reviewed the film for its limited theatrical release late last year, and his feelings pretty much meet up with my own:

Trying to describe what Dangerous Men is about is a losing game; however, I'll give it a shot.

Mina is engaged to Daniel. One fateful day as they are frolicking along a beach, they are assaulted by a pair of unsavory bikers looking to start some trouble. The struggle leaves Daniel and one of the bikers dead. Mina survives and now has the taste of blood on her lips as she decides that it's her job to rid the greater Los Angeles area of these dangerous men. While she's busy leaving a trail of bodies all over Southern California, Daniel's cop brother David is on her trail, trying to bring this killer to justice. The trail leads to another beach, another assault, and another damsel in distress who then leads David to the notorious Black Pepper, a biker gang hotshot who has "killed more men than the 'Nam war," and then shit gets real.

For most casual viewers, Dangerous Men would be a torturous affair. Luckily, it is highly unlikely that they'll ever see the film. For those viewers who crave the abstract and the unexplainable, though, Dangerous Men is like manna from heaven. Pieced together over 20 years, the film feels like a Dadaist poem, or one of William S. Burrough's cut-up books. Each piece almost works on its own, but none of them connect in any satisfying way. The only overarching element of the film is the endearing incompetence of the piece, and its blissful unawareness thereof...

Technically incompetent, linguistically questionable, formless, and style free, Dangerous Men feels like film made by Andy Sidaris in a morphine haze. From the stilted dialogue written by a man whose first language was obviously not English, to the performances of actors who never stepped in front of a camera again, to the incomprehensible plot, the synth soundtrack that sounds like a Casio demo track, the body-blow foley effects that sound like they were ripped straight out of a Gauntlet arcade game, and the complete disregard for logic in any form, Dangerous Men is Hollywood action through the looking glass.

Having watched the film twice for this Blu-ray review, I can say that the above is a pretty accurate representation of my feelings about it. It's wacko, but oddly charming, and ultimately hard to hate because it's just trying so damned hard.

The Disc:

Dangerous Men comes to Blu-ray from Drafthouse Films and it looks better than it has any right to.The HD transfer is solid, though nothing fancy, in keeping with the film's utilitarian feel. The audio is spectacularly bad, though that's inherent to the production. Frequent overdubbing was used throughout the film, and much of is it done very poorly, but again, it adds to the DIY charm of the whole thing, so it's hard to place too much blame. Overall, the film looks and sounds better than it deserves, even if it isn't great.

Drafthouse Films has created some excellent bonus material for Dangerous Men that is probably more genuinely and intentionally entertaining than the film itself. First up is an audio commentary from Destroy All Movies co-authors Zack Carlson and Bryan Connolly. The pair work very well as a team with Connolly bringing a lot of enthusiasm to the commentary and genuine love for the film while Carlson is able to inject a few more scholarly note as he was on the team that worked on acquiring the film and contacting anyone involved. It's a team project that works really well and I learned a lot. Next up is a short documentary called That's So John Rad that recounts the film's notorious dumping into theaters in 2004 by attempting to speak to every person who saw it on that original run. It's a fun documentary that manages to talk not only to fans, but also Rad's family about some of the lesser known facts of Dangerous Men. The last two features are the least interesting to me, one is an interview with Dangerous Men's director of photography, Peter Palian, and the other is some archival footage of Rad on Canadian public access TV. He's a character, that's for sure, but the best of the footage is already in the That's So John Rad documentary, so it's mostly overlap.

I've now seen this film a couple of times since its theatrical re-release and it never gets less amazing to me that it exists in the same universe that I do. If you are a fan of crazy outsider art, they don't get much weirder than Dangerous Men and this Blu-ray is definitely the way to go.