Hello folks, and welcome back to Wrong Every Time! Today I am typing this up in my running shorts, as spring has finally decided to grace us with its presence, and bless us with something more hospitable than sub-fifty temperatures. As much as I am loath to admit that every doctor and gym teacher I’ve ever had was right, it is undeniable that regular jogging improves how I feel both physically and mentally, and so I’ll soon be off rambling my way around the neighborhood. But before that, I’ve got a fresh collection of films for you all, with this week’s selections offering an even split of horror and martial arts cinema. Look, I know I’m predictable, but after a long day in the anime mines I frequently just want to sit back and watch something terrible happen to somebody else. Let’s see what we’ve got!
First up this week was Barbarian, a recent horror feature about a seemingly abandoned Detroit house with a terrible secret. The film has a fairly unique narrative structure, essentially ratcheting up to one explosion across its first third, reducing to a simmer to build again across its second, and finally colliding all of its characters and concerns in the final act. Across these segmented pressure cookers, the film’s overriding concerns remain clear: the casual threat of male violence overhanging every woman’s interaction with an unknown man, and the unspeakable evil some can commit without hesitation or regret.
The film’s first act is an effective study in lighting and implication, as a young woman named Tess discovers that her AirBnB has been double-booked, with a stranger named Keith already waiting inside. Across the first act of the film, Tess is forced to cross one threshold of safety and personal comfort after another, attempting to negotiate the situation while the camera hangs a personal shadow on her unwanted companion. Tess’ bubbling feelings of fear, entrapment, and self-recrimination come through with perfect clarity, and things only get worse when she finds a secret room in the basement.
Barbarian’s second act essentially repeats the dramatic progression of its first, except this time starring the AirBnB’s owner AJ (a perfectly cast and utterly contemptible Justin Long). AJ’s Hollywood career is on the skids in the wake of a rape allegation, and thus he travels to Detroit to unload the old house, paying no mind to the thousand warning signs of potential trouble ahead. In the film’s funniest moment, AJ’s response to finding the house’s secret murder basement is to google “can I include basement space in house sale ads,” and then dutifully tramp down to the murder basement with measuring tape in hand.
The film’s ultimate threats serve as horrifying markers of this dichotomy: the confidence and casual violence of man, and the scars their actions inflict on their victims. I felt the film was perhaps a bit too loud in terms of its thematic intent, with the story at times seeming to bend awkwardly towards further support for the themes, but Barbarian is an absolute success in terms of its horror setpieces, and ends on a fantastic one-two punch of righteous victory and melancholy reflection. There are no winners in this film, only those more or less capable of fleeing the evil of mankind.
Our next viewing was The Last Dragon, an ‘85 martial arts comedy about a young martial artist named Leroy Green (also called “Bruce Leroy”), who dreams of becoming a great warrior like his idol Bruce Lee. Unfortunately, Leroy’s skills attract the attention of local heavy Sho’nuff, who sees this boy as the final obstacle to being acknowledged as the true master of martial arts. Then a local VJ gets involved with some bad company, Leroy is hired as her bodyguard, and a variety of battles transpire, all leading to a final confrontation between Bruce Leroy and Sho’nuff, the Shogun of Harlem.
The Last Dragon is a proudly campy mix of martial arts and blaxploitation influences, a film that succeeds through its genuine reverence for martial arts action and film convention. Protagonist Leroy is played by genuine black belt Taimak, who actually learned acting on the set of the film. This proves no problem for his character, as Taimak is essentially playing the young prodigy who knows nothing but martial arts convention, making his stiffness in all social situations a dramatic virtue. In contrast, his brother Richie (Leo O’Brien) provides the same role that you might normally see occupied by Sammo Hung, the street-smart accomplice who helps guide his awkward companion.
The Last Dragon’s structure demonstrates a keen study of martial arts cinema history, while the contrast of Taimak’s excellent skills and Sho’nuff’s inherent physicality make for genuinely satisfying fight scenes. The film is not a parody – it loves both of its component genres earnestly, and mostly just transposes a classic Shaw Bros structure to a Harlem venue, with some fun music numbers thrown in for spice. A breezy and altogether delightful watch.
Watching The Last Dragon got the whole house hungry for more martial arts, so we followed that with a viewing of Bruce Lee’s Enter the Dragon. I’ve seen Enter the Dragon several times now, and it never fails to impress with its absolute purity of intent and appeal. There is not an inch of fat on this whole picture; we get an efficient call to action, an enticing gathering of all the tournament contenders, a brief flurry of thrilling matches, and then a finale that mixes all-out martial arts war with a James Bond climax, complete with a hall of mirrors straight from The Man With the Golden Gun.
To be honest, “Dr. No plus the Man With the Golden Gun and also Bruce Lee is there” describes Enter the Dragon pretty much exactly, but obviously “also Bruce Lee is there” is carrying a whole lot of weight in that description. His fights are balletic, ferocious, and dazzling, demonstrating the peak of both martial arts physicality, and also martial arts as designed for cinematic spectacle. For all the man’s athletic talents, Lee also possesses that ineffable leading man glow, a personal charisma that makes his every gesture seem purposeful and iconic. Enter the Dragon is undoubtedly one of the best examples of “a great time at the movies” that there ever was or will be.
Our final viewing of the week was Tetsuo: The Iron Man, a gleefully grotesque splash of exploitation theater. Tetsuo barely has characters or narrative events; it’s pretty much full-on vibes, detailing one man’s horrific transformation into a being of tubes and metal. The film is about as crunchy and visceral as body horror can get, with its black and white photography further serving to diminish the visual distance between flesh and chrome, blood and oil. Audiences are assaulted by one terrifying synthesis of man and machine after another; from the gory consequences of our “hero’s” drill-dick to the cacophonous fusion battle at the end, Tetsuo never lets up on its imagery or intensity.
There’s theoretically a narrative you could draw out of it, as well as some themes regarding violation in the era of technology, but Tetsuo is most fundamentally attempting to provide a visceral, felt experience, and it absolutely succeeds at that. I was consistently impressed by the film’s distinct use of stop motion technology – not only is stop motion effectively used for the sequences of technology physically consuming its characters’ bodies, it’s also deployed to convey the terrifying speed and power of technology-infused humans, presenting their wild journeys across town as a series of staggered yet breakneck-fast still images. In this, as well as its fundamental concepts, Tetsuo seems much like an anime brought to life, with more loyalty to the outsider art sensibilities of grungy manga than any general audience adaptation could afford. The film demands a willing audience, but if you’re game for chaotic and explicit body horror, there’s little else like Tetsuo out there.
