Almost twenty years of being a Netflix DVD rental customer has come to an end. When we subscribed in 2004, we kicked it off with all six Lone Wolf and Cub movies. I quickly formed a queue of all the best B-grade through Z-grade midnight movies, cult classics, sleaze, horror, and wuxia, periodically elevated by artsy independent and international films that only played in big cities and never made it to the mall cinemas of Podunk. Once we had our fill of those, I turned to more popular classics reaching all the way back to the dirty thirties before the Hays Code went into effect. I soon found that my appetite for pre-code entertainment was limitless, but Netflix’s selection was not.
Over the years, our queue ballooned to nearly five-hundred titles. International movies in their native language with English subtitles were a big hit with me, especially during our apartment dwelling years when I needed something I could watch with the sound down low. I still turn to them late at night. I will always be convinced that they are one of the best ways to learn about a culture short of actual travel.
When Netflix announced that they were ending DVD rentals, I was devasted. By my estimate, about seventy percent of our queue consisted of difficult if not impossible to obtain titles. Many had gone out of print. Others were exorbitantly priced imports. I was able to snag a few precious titles in the final shipment. The one that I wanted the most had a “Very long wait” all the way to the end. I was hopeful that Netflix would send us the ten free bonus discs that they had teased back in August. After twenty years of throwing money at them, it was the least they could have done, but they sent us jack shit and fuck all.
All those cinematic rarities, some not available for purchase or streaming anywhere, are now lost and gone. Maybe they were thrown in a dumpster, perhaps even shredded. Copyright deserves much of the blame. I’m glad I wallowed in trash when I did. Those more prurient selections were among the first to disappear from their inventory either due to breakage or subscribers simply keeping them. We had close to two hundred movies in the “Unknown” section of our queue. Many of them had been languishing there for years since Netflix gave up buying replacements. Whoever got their hands on La Muerte Enamorada (1951): Please take good care of it. It’s irreplaceable.
I have yet to decide what comes next. Maybe I’ll try Criterion’s streaming service. Netflix was getting over thirty dollars a month from us. Maybe I’ll buy a DVD or two per month with that money instead.
I didn’t do a list in September because I wanted to go through as much of our queue as I could. From my birthday in mid-August to the bitter end, I watched twenty-three discs. This is the first of three lists. I have divided them into groups of seven. Vermilion Pleasure Night spanned three discs, but I gave it one listing. With few exceptions, we bid farewell to dvd.com with a return to our midnight movie roots. My write-up of Pink Flamingos on the August list was a warning to the squeamish and the prudish:
Ashes to ashes,
Funk to funky,
Schlock thou art, and unto schlock thou shall return…
Flame and Citron (Flammen & Citronen — 2008):
Welcome to the only smut-free entry on this list! This is my favorite solution to the Nazi problem movie. I make a point of watching it every other year or more often. It’s based upon the true history of Danish resistance fighters Bent Faurschou Hviid (Flammen) and Jørgen Haagen Schmith (Citronen). They are portrayed here by Thure Lindhardt and Mads Mikkelsen. Whenever I watch this, I have a crush on all four of them, but I also like it for its spy versus spy versus assassin action.
The Devil’s Sword (Golok Setan — 1984):
In this supernatural horror from Indonesia, forces of good and evil vie for posession of an all-powerful magical sword. Four ruthless villains, Gravedigger, Witchiepoo, Hat Man, and an ill-tempered badass named Banyujaga (Advent Bangun) get a running head start over the heroic, Mandala (Barry Prima). The cast credits for this movie suck, so yes, those first three names are made up.
Banyujaga is a former student of the same fighting master as Mandala. They were friends until Banyujaga chose evil and went to work for the insatiable sorceress, Crocodile Queen (Gudhi Sintara). His job consists of abducting hot young single men to entertain her majesty in her crocodile lair.
She goes through men so fast that her henchman is forced snatch a groom in the middle of a wedding. The enraged and astonishingly strong bride sets off on a quest to kick the Crocodile Queen’s ass and rescue her man. She encounters and teams up with Mandala along the way. The heroes must first fight their way through the Crocodile Queen’s defenses, including but not limited to fire-breathing statues, and a bevy of scantily clad young women, whom I’ll refer to as The Crocquettes.
The fights scenes are a blend of martial arts and magic powers. Magic powers are indicated by cheesy laser effects, which were popular at the time. Another fine example of this genre from the same time period is The Killing of Satan (1983). That particular title from the Philippines goes heavy on the Catholicism, but the overall story is similar. However, the gender roles are reversed. Instead of a man-stealing, reptilian sorceress, it has a woman-stealing, devil-worshipping sorcerer. Instead of a cage full of half-naked men, it has a cage full of half-naked women. I happen to have it on VHS. I bought it back when all I had to go on was the title, a synopsis, and a thumbnail image printed in a mail-order catalog.
I recommend watching both titles as a fun double feature. The DVD extras for The Devil’s Sword include an interview with a reluctant, and by the look of him, very high Barry Prima.
Black Magic (Jiang tou — 1975):
An evil magician causes chaos in this Shaw Brothers Studio production. Shan Jianmi (Ku Feng) is a mage for hire who specializes in performing seduction spells and death spells for a variety of clients with dubious motives. All his male clients have to do is collect some mud from the target’s footprint and bring it to him along with lots of money or gold jewelry. Female clients are required to supply him with breast milk. Those that can’t are given a lactation inducing herbal concoction. He then has them strip naked and puts some rice in their crotch to seal the deal. The ladies also have to pay him money or hand over their jewelry. It’s kind of like how men and women are charged different prices for haircuts but with a horny evil mage with a lactation fetish. Shan Jianmi’s sinister shenanigans are brought to the attention of a local shaman (Ku Wen-chung), who then tries his best to undo all the evil spells and put an end to the problem for good.
This was my birthday movie selection because of its funky mid-1970s aesthetic, plus I’m a Shaw Brothers fan.
The Pinky Violence Collection: Girl Boss Guerilla (Sukeban gerira — 1972):
This could be the pinnacle of its genre. I watched a string of these movies back in the early aughts. Netflix either lost or discontinued many of the titles that I saw back then, and this one was the only remaining Pinky Violence Collection disc.
Typical of Sukeban stories, this gang of ladies is forced to operate in the shadow of the Yakuza. They are regularly bullied and shaken down for any profits they reap. Failure to comply is met with violence, often sexual, committed by middle-aged men wearing the tackiest outfits imaginable. The ladies make fashion statements of their own. Tits, tattoos, and motorcycle mayhem are unleashed as they fight for their independence.
Kamikaze Girls (Shimotsuma monogatari — 2004) is a wacky comedy that borrowed much of its plot from Girl Boss Guerilla. It could be even described as a parody of it. I recommend both.
Vermilion Pleasure Night 1–2–3 (2006):
For me, it’s no contest; the first volume is the best. When it comes to individual components, my favorites are the animated shorts and musical numbers. Among the musical performances, Six Singing Girls can’t be beat.
Much has changed over twenty years in terms of what is considered appropriate humor. There is a lot more cringe to the viewing experience now. I still like One Point English Lesson. Sorry not sorry. That actress is fantastic. I also like Midnight Cooking but only the segments with the singers.
Every episode is a visual banquet. It’s sexy, funny, inappropriate, and occasionally gross. The extras on the disc for the third volume include the feature The Color of Life (2002), which is a compendium of the best bits of the series woven together by wild bumpers narrated by a sadistic, and flamboyantly dressed host.
Under the Carp Banner (Chikan waisetsu nozoki — 1992):
A neurodivergent young man from a rural village is radicalized by fast food, rock and roll, and a large quantity of cocaine on his first visit to Tokyo. His drastic change in personality and way of thinking incites tragedy. Also, there are a bunch of bizarre sex scenes that have little to do with him.
I learned two things:
1) Always be hospitable toward refugees.
2) If your dad thinks he is a kappa (yōkai), bring him cucumbers when you visit.
Flower and Snake II (Hana to hebi 2–2005):
This is a pale imitation of the original replete with queasy cam. It delivers shibari and suspension without suspense in scenes that are slapdash, rapid-fire, and without heart. Much of the cast is the same, but their roles are different. Aya Sugimoto plays Shizuko Tôyama once again, but this time she is the wife of a world-famous art critic. She gets into pretty much the same predicament as she does in the first movie. Makes a major plot point of pornographic deepfakes before the technology and techniques were as sophisticated and convincing as they are today.
