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Reviews
Joshû sasori: Dai-41 zakkyo-bô (1972)
The CITIZEN KANE of crypto-post-feminist splatter movies
Meiko Kaji plays the title role, a stone-faced badass in the Man With No Name mode, in this bizarrely stylized adaptation of a popular _manga_, brimming over with gore, nudity, gratuitous sadism, bad-trip fantasy scenes, chain-fu, spoon-fu, dog-fu, bus-fu, anything-they-can-get-their-hands-on-fu, and more castration imagery than one can -- pardon the expression -- shake a stick at.
And I'm not even going to TRY to describe the musical numbers.
Truly this has to be seen to be believed, and even then it's going to take some effort.
Rose Hobart (1936)
Strangely haunting.
An odd, dreamlike film cobbled together from bits and pieces of a 30s jungle-set melodrama (EAST OF BORNEO, I think) featuring the title actress. Like collage boxes that Cornell was famous for, it has a strangely haunting, yet elusive quality. Cornell strips away the original film's plot and dialogue, turning it into a fever-dream of hothouse exoticism, making even its obviously fake sets seem beautiful and mysterious.