In a key moment around the half-way mark in Toshio Matsumoto's Funeral Parade of Roses, the young protagonist Eddie, a transsexual working in Tokyo, stabs his mother's lover and then his mother himself. Matsumoto's film is full of Oedipal subtexts, but here Eddie kills his mother to (perhaps) get to his father, so it is the reverse of the Oedipus story. In fact, most of the film is 'backwards' in the traditional sense, full of narrative tricks, contrasting styles and shifts in tone, moving from melodrama to documentary to horror with each scene.
Eddie (played by real-life queen Pita) is a drag-queen working at a top Tokyo underground club ran by Gonda (Yoshio Tsuchiya). Eddie is the top attraction at the club, much to the envy of ageing madam Leda (Osamu Ogasawara). When Gonda starts a secret affair with Eddie, Leda finds out and plans to hurt and disfigure Eddie in her jealousy. Running alongside this fictional storyline are various interviews with the real-life queens who act in the film, who offer insights about life in Tokyo for queens and how the film will represent them.
There was a huge boom in Japan in the 1960's of films now known as Japanese New Wave. Funeral Parade of Roses is certainly one of the most daring and technically innovative, stripping back genre (and even cinematic) conventions to create one of the most important films in the history of Gay Cinema. This leads to an occasionally confusing and head-spinning film, that can switch quickly from a generic love scene to a moment of avant-garde (an argument between two queens have them shouting at each other with speech bubbles) to a bloody set-piece. One of the most inspirational films to come out of Japan, this was a favourite of Stanley Kubrick's, and no doubt the scenes that are played out in fast-forward were an influence on A Clockwork Orange (1971). Uncompromising, unapologetic cinema.
On June 12th, 2000, a young man named Sandro Rosa do Nascimento hijacked a bus in Rio de Janeiro with the intention of robbing the passengers inside. When one of the passengers notified a police car, the bus was intercepted and Sandro took all the passengers hostage, armed with a .38 caliber revolver. Soon enough, the bus - Omnibus 174 - was a media frenzy, with everything being broadcast live to the watching public. What ensued was not only a sign of the ineptitude of the Rio police force, but an insight into one of the most serious societal problems in Brazil - the invisible homeless.
Sandro's story began years before the events of Jose Padilha and Felipe Lacerda's documentary Bus 1974. Through friends and witnesses, we learn about Sandro's childhood as he witnessed several horrific acts, such as the murder of his mother in front of his very eyes, and the events of the Candelaria massacre which saw the murder of eight homeless children by men thought to be police officers. But we also learn how the homeless in Rio de Janeiro are simply ignored by citizens. This abandonment by your own society can cause serious psychological defects, that lead the homeless to feel they have no place in the world.
We get a real insight into how Rio de Janeiro treats their lowest of citizens (the prisoners) in a stand-out scene which I never wish to see again. Turning the image into negative to somehow try and shield us from the true horror, the camera pans alongside a tiny prison cell that holds between 40-50 prisoners. They each have their own unique story, which they rant to camera. They are forced to take turns to stand up and lie down, to piss and shit where they eat, causing disease to spread like wildfire, and all in 100 degree heat. This is not a place interested in rehabilitation.
This is documentary film-making at it's most thrilling and disheartening. The hostage situation plays out like a check-list of police malpractice and ill-preparation. At one point, Sandro shoots at the ground, feigning the execution of a hostage, and then hangs his head out of the window to tell the police what he has done. Many times this happens, still the police do not take him out. The same year saw the release of City of God, a super-stylised account of Brazil's ghettos, so it appears that Brazil was turning an big eye on itself and its societal problems. At 150 minutes, this is a long and detailed documentary that tends to repeat itself every so often or draw out an event in the hostage crisis, but Bus 174 will no doubt leave you moved and, more importantly, angry.
After garnering attention and acclaim from critics and art-house fans alike with his debut Festen (1998), things didn't pan out for Danish director Thomas Vinterberg as most people expected. He had a number of flops that passed by without anyone taking notice, and it seemed like the co-founder of the Dogme 95 movement was destined to be a one hit wonder. However, he hit back in 2012 with Jagten, or The Hunt, a powerful study of hysteria in a small town that was nominated for the Palme d'Or and took home Best Actor for lead Mads Mikkelsen.
It tells the story of teacher-by-trade Lucas (Mikkelsen) who is working for a local kindergarten school after the closure of his school. He is a quiet, lonely man living in the house he once lived in with his wife and son. He has his close friend Theo (Thomas Bo Larsen), the father of Klara (Annika Wedderkopp) who is in Lucas's kindergarten group, and the two regularly go on hunting expeditions with a circle of heavy-drinking friends. Things are looking good for Lucas when he begins to date co-worker Nadja (Alexandra Rapaport), until the confused Klara tells another teacher that Lucas exposed himself to her and possibly molested her.
To avoid falling into the did-he-or-didn't-he category, Vinterberg wisely cements Lucas's innocence from the off, making The Hunt less a thriller and more of a serious study of small-town mentality and the rapid spread of mass hysteria. People whom Lucas once shared drinks with as friends quickly turn a simple, albeit dangerous, lie, into paranoid and sheer panic. Pamphlets are handed out to parents detailing signs of sexual abuse - nightmares, crying - things you would generally expect children to do anyway, but when faced with leading questions, the children are understandably confused about the facts and are willing to go with what their parents obviously believe.
Nobody seems to confront the fact that sometimes children lie, and even when Lucas's case is dismissed by police due to an overwhelming lack of evidence, he is still a predatory paedophile in other people's eyes and is isolated by the townsfolk. Mikkelsen, who will be familiar to most English-speaking audiences as the bad guy from Casino Royale (2006) and as Hannibal Lecter in the TV series Hannibal, gives an excellent, nuanced performance, who is at first confused and outraged, and later full of anger and contempt. This is very much an actor's film, with Vinterberg using a calm, hand-held camera to avoid intruding on the story. This film will leave you uncomfortable and frustrated, no doubt, but this is an important and powerful film about the dangers of witch-hunt mentality and condemning people as guilty until proven innocent.
One of the most popular exploitation sub-genre's in the 1970's was the lesbian vampire flick. It was hinted at as far back as the 1930's, using Joseph Sheridan Le Fanu's novel Carmilla as their primary influence, but not fully embraced until the late 1960's by Hammer Studios. As censorship wavered and the grindhouse circuit was born, films became more exploitative and the European low-budget film industry became flooded with movies by film-makers like Jess Franco. Spanish director Jose Ramon Larraz's UK-set Vampyres is one of the most fondly remembered. But, as those familiar with grindhouse movies will be fully aware, that doesn't mean it's particularly good.
In an old mansion isolated in the woods, lesbian vampire couple Fran (Marianne Morris) and Miriam (Anulka Dziubinska) stalk the surrounding area in search of men to prey upon. They take the men back to their mansion, kill and feed on them, and then leave their bodies by the side of the road in their crashed car. A young couple, John (Brian Deacon) and Harriet (Sally Faulkner), park their camper on the mansion grounds. Harriet notices strange behaviour from the vampire couple and witnesses the physical deterioration of Ted (Murray Brown), a young man taken in by Fran.
Shot at Oakley Court, location of many a Hammer horror and Dr. Frank N. Furter's castle in The Rocky Horror Picture Show (1975), Vampyres has that lush British old-school horror feel about it. The problem is, it feels like a fifty-minute film stretched out into ninety minutes, full of endless walks, curious glances, inane conversations and dull erotic scenes. When the horror does come, it doesn't hold back on the blood, featuring a couple of quite unsettling scenes of violence. It just takes so long to get there that it hardly feels worth the wait.
There is also a gaping plot-hole in Fran and Miriam's approach of staging the murders as car accidents, which becomes ridiculous after we see Fran stab a victim in the back. They wait for their victims by hitch-hiking in broad daylight, and are even seen doing so by Harriet as the couple approach the castle. Just how long would it take for the police to put two and two together as the bodies quickly pile up? However, it's surprisingly well-acted, especially by the seductive Marianne Morris, whose scenes are all the more erotic when she keeps her clothes on, and the cinematography, reminiscent of Hammer, is lovely.
After one failed origin story with the dismal X-Men Origins: Wolverine (2009), Hugh Jackman's short-tempered Logan AKA Wolverine is given another chance at a stand alone movie. With the X-Men movies generally hit-and-miss, mainly due to an over-abundance of mutants, director James Mangold has taken the story into unfamiliar territory. There's no army of mutants baddies for the mutton-chopped hero to slice apart, nor is he held back and forced into the background by his fellow X-Men. The Wolverine takes us and Wolverine to a different continent entirely, only to find he even has enemies in Japan.
Tortured by the death of Jean Grey (Famke Janssen), Logan (Hugh Jackman) is long-haired and bearded and hiding out in Yukon, Canada. After an incident in a local bar, he is befriended by the samurai sword-wielding Yukio (Rila Fukushima) who has been sent by an old friend to recruit Wolverine. The old friend is Yashida (Hal Yamanouchi), a Japanese soldier rescued by Logan during the bombing of Nagasaki in 1945. Yashida is on the verge of death, and in his search for elongating his life, wants to transfer Logan's healing abilities into his own body. When Logan refuses, Yashida passes the following day, only for the funeral to be attacked by yakuza gangsters looking to kidnap Yashida's granddaughter Mariko (Tao Okamoto) and heir to his billion-dollar company.
It's a flimsy plot to say the least, and not one that successful, multi-million dollar blockbusters are founded on. And here lies the biggest problem for The Wolverine, as although a change of pace and setting is always welcome, there's not much happening on screen for Logan to sink his claws into. The decision to move the action to the neon-lit Japan is an interesting one, but doesn't seem to serve any other purpose than to allow for some admittedly gorgeous-looking set-pieces, and to introduce a giant samurai robot for Logan to bash around. Lightly comic scenes of cultural differences are amusing, but seem out of place considering that Logan is repeatedly told he is a ronin, a samurai without a master.
With Logan seemingly invinsible, The Wolverine does the thing that most superhero movies do nowadays which is to strip him of his powers. With Batman battered and imprisoned in The Dark Knight Rises (2012) and Tony Stark without his army of metallic suits in Iron Man 3 (2013), here Wolverine's healing abilities are drained by villain The Viper (Svetlana Khodchenkova), who infects his body with a parasite. This is successful in making a more reluctant, damaged hero, and therefore adding dimensions to his character, but (as sexy as she is), Viper is a pretty thin and non-threatening baddie, and resembles Uma Thurman's Posion Ivy from Joel Schumacher's Batman & Robin (1997) too much to be taken seriously.
However, Jackman is as compelling as ever in the role, which is the sole reason that there is still life in Wolverine's stand-alone franchise. This is now his sixth film, in a role he has played for 13 years, and this is probably his most dynamic performance. The Wolverine is heavily flawed, but manages to be a minor success thanks to Jackman's ferocity and more concentration on the hero everyone came to see. There's also a nice little tie-in at the end to the upcoming X-Men: Days of Future Past, adding yet another weave into Marvel's ever-expanding universe. But, with a weak climax and a strangely thin storyline, I would be surprised if The Wolverine lingers for very long in many people's minds.
In the year following the 9/11 attacks on New York and America, film-makers and producers were still tip-toeing around the subject, even going as far as digitally removing the World Trade Centre from Sam Raimi's Spider-Man trailer. Never one to shy away from confronting a controversial subject head-on, director Spike Lee made 25th Hour, a story of young Irish-American drug dealer Monty Brogan (Edward Norton) celebrating his last day of freedom before he gets banged up for 7 years. Brogan serves as a metaphor for the post-9/11 America - unsure, paranoid, angry, disillusioned. In the first scene, we see him younger, happier, and saving a dying dog with his Russian friend Kostya (Tony Siragusa), but this was before he got busted, and, presumably, before 9/11.
Lee is hardly subtle about his allegories, and the opening credits are shown over images of the beams of light shooting up in the air at Ground Zero, representing the fallen towers of the World Trade Centre. In another scene, Monty's two best friends Jacob (Philip Seymour Hoffman) and Frank (Barry Pepper) discuss Monty's future once he gets out of prison. Frank's apartment overlooks Ground Zero, and Frank explains how nothing can ever be the same, both for their relationship with Monty, and for America. The presence of Ground Zero looms like some unshakeable ghost, almost serving as a character itself. Jacob and Frank's lives are hitting a sort-of midlife crisis also. Jacob is channelling his "liberal guilt" into sexually obsessing over a young student of his (Anna Paquin) and Jacob's Red Bull and stock market-fuelled existence is reaching breaking point.
Of course, this being a Spike Lee 'joint' (how I wish he'd stop calling them that), the subject of race is never far away, and Lee confronts this in a standout scene that comes out of nowhere. Monty, after a dinner with his guilt-ridden father (Brian Cox), goes into the bathroom of his father's bar for his reflection to launch into a rant about his hatred for the many ethnic groups that reside in New York. "Fuck the Sikhs and Pakistanis bombing down the avenues in their decrepit cabs, fuck the Korean grocers, fuck the Russians and the Chassidim," he shouts. He also fucks the church, the Wall Street bankers and rich trophy wives. This is a man focusing his anger at anybody, and much like Lee's masterpiece Do the Right Thing (1989), the film manages to capture what many were feeling at the time.
All allegories aside, 25th Hour holds it's own as a drama. There's no twist and turns or gunfights, and the only real tension comes from people's suspicions of Monty's girlfriend Naturelle (Rosario Dawson) being possibly the one who fingered Monty. But there's no need for it, as Lee's aim here is to create something all the more sombre and reflective. The cast are superb, especially Norton and Pepper, the latter proving that his talents have gone unrecognised for far too long with a performance of self-destructive narcissism. The social messages can be heavy-handed at times, and it goes on for far too long, but the ending provides an outstanding fantasy prologue of blind optimism. One of the most honest depictions of America ever made.
Just two years after he took everyone's breath away playing eight characters in Kind Hearts and Coronets (1949), Alec Guinness continued his successful relationship with Ealing Studios with another iconic performance as eccentric inventor Sidney Stratton in The Man in the White Suit. After being fired from numerous mills throughout the north of England for his expensive research into an everlasting fibre, Sidney joins Birnley Mill. Posing as an unpaid researcher, he makes his breakthrough and creates a fibre that repels dirt and cannot be broken, and makes himself a white suit out of it. Seeing the potential collapse of their industry, capital and workers alike join forces to bring Sidney down.
While watching The Man in the White Suit, it would be easy to pose the question of what exactly is the point of this movie? Ealing had common themes of anti-establishment running through their films of this era, and here the big bosses are shown as pompous, cigar-smoking buffoons, clambering over each other in blind panic. Yet with the invention of Sidney's white suit, the industry will implode, taking down thousands of the working class with it. This is exemplified when Sidney, running through the streets in his luminous white suit to escape the mob, comes across his poor landlady who has been letting him live there rent-free. She sees Sidney's new invention and says "what about my bit of washing when there's no washing to do?" The working class will pay the biggest price if the white suit breaks out.
So, the point is not to make a point, it's to make you think about technological progression. The 40's saw the emergence of the H-bomb that almost single-handedly ended World War II. This was initially seen as a good thing and the ultimate protective weapon. Then other countries began manufacturing them, and the threat of nuclear war prevailed throughout the next few decades. It seems that following technological innovation blindly could have devastating consequences. Yet Sidney goes about his business with a demented determination, initially without a thought about the potential results of his actions. The fact that he is the film's protagonist and (anti?)hero does cause some confusion, but in Guinness's expert hands, Sidney is a delight to watch and even root for.
The supporting cast are strong too, especially Joan Greenwood as Daphne Birnley, the daughter of the tycoon that runs the mill (played by the also excellent Cecil Parker). Her voice is so sultry and her face so beautiful that it's hard to take your eyes off her. The scene in which she tries to seduce Sidney at the request of the united bosses is an acting lesson in subtle sexuality. However, in the context of Ealing's output of this era, The Man in the White Suit falls somewhat short. It's extremely slow-paced and talky, and isn't particularly funny. But it's a clever-clever satire that was way ahead of its time, expertly directed in an unfussy fashion by Alexander Mackendrick.
Of all the crazy films Cannon Films put out there between their emergence in 1967 to their demise in 1993, I doubt any are quite as out-there as Lifeforce, Tobe Hooper's half space-opera, half end-of-the-world thriller. Although it's far from his best film, Hooper clearly had big visions for Lifeforce and, with some confidant support from the film's producers, it looks visually impressive. Starting out as essentially an Alien (1979) rip-off (didn't they all around this era?), the film moves on to vampire movie, action movie, zombie movie and then disaster movie. It's an insane trip, but, if you can forgive its many, many flaws, this is actually a lot of fun.
The crew of space shuttle Churchill locate an alien craft inside the corona of Halley's Comet, and inside they find hundreds of dead alien bodies, as well as three humanoids, suspended and frozen inside glass pods. On their return journey, all contact is lost with mission control. The rescue mission find the entire crew dead from a fire, but the humanoids intact. The aliens are taken back to a research centre in London, watched over by Dr. Fallada (Frank Finlay). While there, the female alien awakens and sucks the 'life force' out of a guard, turning him into a shrivelled zombie. She escapes, and S.A.S. operative Col. Caine (Peter Firth) and Col. Carlsen (Steve Railsback) - whose escape pod from Churchill is found in Texas - start trying to track down the mysterious alien vampire.
If the movie has one trump card, it is in the form of Mathilda May, who plays the female vampire. She is a woman of such staggering beauty that you can understand Carlsen's relentless pursuit of her, and the storyline that she has placed a kind of a love spell on him seems that little bit less ridiculous. Special mention must also go to John Dykstra (winner of the Academy Award for Star Wars (1977)), whose special-effects are still impressive to this day. The problems are that the plot is too convoluted, the acting is awkward, and Tobe Hooper over-reaches himself. It seems like his vision was so big, that he forgot to make it small enough to fit into 116 minutes and make a coherent movie. Still, it's a million times better than most sci-fi B-pictures of its era, and if you let it simply wash over you, Lifeforce is a bonkers hoot.
Ginger Baker, that fire-haired, heroin-addicted, mentally unstable drummer of Cream and Blind Faith fame, is given a much deserved documentary here at the hands of Rolling Stone journalist Jay Bulger. For all his notorious genius - the guy single-handedly invented the drum solo and heavy metal owes a significant debt - the man is repulsively anti-social and, well, mad. We learn this from the opening scene, as Baker yells at Bulger, who is off-camera, that he doesn't want his friends and colleagues interviewed for the film, while Bulger protests. Cue a pause, then Baker stabs at Bulger with his cane, leaving the film-maker with a bloodied nose.
For the rest of the film, Baker is somewhat subdued, slumped in his reclining chair, never without a cigarette and his sunglasses, giving a reluctant commentary on his life and his career. It is Baker's discomfort at being an interviewee that slightly damages the film, as we never really get beneath those red locks and mad eyes of his to the soul (or lack of) beneath. So, Beware of Mr. Baker (the title comes from a warning sign outside Baker's South African ranch), becomes a mere birth-to-present biography of his career. It's still fascinating stuff, and Bulger has unearthed some excellent archive footage and photographs.
His colleague and family provide the more personal information on Baker, such as his estranged son, who recollects that he was briefly happy with his father, even drumming alongside him on-stage, before Baker verbally attacked him and sent him on his way. Baker, in simple terms, is a horrible man, but (as the annoying sell-out Johnny Rotten tells us), he is the type of man that true genius often produces. His affection for polo and heroin are not explored enough, and the real focus here is the music. The footage shown is outstanding, ranging from his superstar-creating time with Cream through to some mind-bending footage of drumming 'battles' with his peers and heroes. Yet Baker himself still remains a mystery, and perhaps it should stay that way.
There has always been a clear distinction between director Guillermo del Toro's art-house Mexican productions and his more audience-pandering Hollywood movies. Not just in quality, but also in tone. His native efforts have produced the haunting The Devil's Backbone (2001) and his masterpiece Pan's Labyrinth (2006), which both leaned towards the director's love of fantasy and folklore as well as meditations on war and childhood. Pacific Rim, his latest big-budget Hollywood production (following cancellations and delays on his work on The Hobbit and At the Mountains of Madness) is probably his most 'Hollywoody' to date. It's big, loud, stupid, but also quite fun, with del Toro harking back to his childhood days watching Japanese kaiju movies.
Earth is under attack from giant monsters dubbed as 'kaiju', who rise out of the Pacific Ocean from a portal to devastate anything in their path. Humanity fared well in their war against this new threat, building giant robots named 'Jaegers' to battle the kaiju's, until the attacks became more frequent, and the monsters larger and deadlier. The Jaeger's need to be powered by two pilots - one to represent the left side of the brain and the other the right. But the pilots are also required to be 'drift compatible', as once in the 'drift', they share each other memories, instincts and pain. We first meet ace pilot Raleigh (Charlie Hunnam) battling a kaiju with his brother. His brother is killed, and Raleigh is washed up on shore and helps in the construction of a giant wall to keep the creatures out.
Four years later, and the Jaeger programme is being shut down. Stacker Pentecost (Idris Elba), the commander of the Jaeger's, takes the programme underground. He persuades Raleigh to re-join the programme, and introduces him to Mako (Rinko Kikuchi), a beautiful woman who clearly shares a link to Stacker. Also working on the programme are comic relief characters Dr. Geiszler (Charlie Day) and Gottlieb (Burn Gorman), two bickering scientists who are studying the kaiju and their emergence in different ways. Raleigh demands to be teamed up with Mako, who he is clearly drift compatible with, and the two must learn to work together before the final assault.
It's a lot of plot to take in, but this has a hefty 131 minutes to explore it in. Del Toro manages to create a lot of back-story that is crammed in to the twenty minute prologue, but it's all a lot of twaddle to give the movie a reason to stage some gargantuan action scenes. With a movie like this, you come to see the action. We want to see giant robots smash the shit out of giant monsters, and del Toro certainly delivers on that front. There's no elegance in the fighting; they just pummel each other with giant fists and, every now and then, some acid and giant saws. Cities are devastated, thousands are (presumably) killed and tourist sites are made out of the results. The CGI is frankly astonishing, and watched in high definition especially, the film looks beautiful.
Yet as much genuine heart del Toro puts into the action scenes, he fails wholeheartedly in the moments in between. There is no character development and no original plot devices, just another messiah story with a heavy section in the middle dedicated to the preparation for the moment everyone is waiting for. This is as soulless as they come, and although its easy to say that the lack of plot and character is expected of a film like this, the movie doesn't have any star power to add any charisma to the proceedings. Independence Day (1996), as much as I detest the film, at least had Will Smith to keep us amused between the sickening lashings of cheddar, and Armageddon (1998) had Bruce Willis. Pacific Rim has Idris Elba, who certainly tries his best with his Henry V speeches and dashing suits, but he's second fiddle to Charlie Hunnam, who just doesn't cut the mustard.
There's also the distraction of Day and Gorman, who are undoubtedly the most annoying and unfunny comic-relief double-act since those twin racial stereotypes in Transformers: Revenge of the Fallen (2009). The reason for their existence points to giving del Toro's favourite actor Ron Perlman a reason to be in the film, and although Perlman's presence is always welcome, his sub-plot proves to be a distraction to the central storyline. Perhaps del Toro simply needed to make a movie after a few years of delayed and failed projects, so a little self-indulgence can certainly be forgiven, especially if the results are as entertaining as this. But it just begs the question of why del Toro doesn't put the same heart into his mainstream movies as he does his arthouse films.
Jonah Hex is a project that seemed doomed from the start. It has all the ingredients for a great movie - a too-cool-to-be-true premise, an extraordinary cast, a rarely seen (in the comic book universe) Wild West setting, and a cult following thanks to DC Comics' graphic novels. But if you look at other movies of its kind - Constantine (2005), Ghost Rider (2007) etc. - it was never going to work. The studio system or just plain bad writing always seems to get in the way. And Jonah Hex is quite possibly the most terrible of them all. Josh Brolin snarls and grunts his way through a solid performance, but he does not manage to save this absolute mess of a movie.
Jonah Hex served as a Confederate solider during the American Civil War. We learn through a fast-tracking prologue that shortly after the war, the evil Quentin Turnbull (John Malkovich) murdered Jonah's entire family, and branded his face with a terrible wound that leaves him disfigured. He is left for dead but nursed back to health by some native Americans, that somehow leave him with the ability to talk to the dead. Believing Turnbull burned to a crisp in a hotel fire, Jonah turns to bounty hunting to earn his living, proving highly efficient at the job. But when Turnbull re-emerges with his mad Irish cronie Burke (Michael Fassbender) and the threat of a terrorist attack, President Grant (Aidan Quinn) hires Jonah to take him out and save the day.
After the quick-fire introduction that zips through Jonah Hex's backstory so fast that you simply cannot care about him, we are introduced to the familiar hooker-with-a-heart Lilah (Megan Fox), who is inexplicably in love with Jonah. They share one scene together with no hint as to why these two characters even like each other (although I'm sure I know why Jonah enjoys visiting Lilah), and are not reunited until the climax when we are expected to give a damn about these two making it through the explosions and gunfire. Writers Brian Taylor and Mark Neveldine (who like to refer to themselves as simply Taylor/Neveldine - oh, please) don't seem to have heard of character-building or pacing, but when you look at their back catalogue then this can hardly be a surprise.
The most depressing thing is that the actors do their best and are largely successful with their cardboard characters, which makes it even more confusing as to how this was screwed up so badly. Nothing is explained properly - how did Turnbull escape the fire that apparently killed him/why do we only see Jonah revive the dead twice/why is Turnbull so pissed at the government? - and the fact that we are simply expected to accept this is offensive. I know, I know, this is a comic-book movie, but the action is so dull and ridiculous (dynamite guns!) that the aspect that we expect to be at least not bad is not there in order for us to forgive its many flaws. If there's one good thing to say about the film, it's that Jonah Hex's prosthetics are good, but the fact that I'm praising the make-up department shows how badly I'm clutching at straws.
Eddie (played by real-life queen Pita) is a drag-queen working at a top Tokyo underground club ran by Gonda (Yoshio Tsuchiya). Eddie is the top attraction at the club, much to the envy of ageing madam Leda (Osamu Ogasawara). When Gonda starts a secret affair with Eddie, Leda finds out and plans to hurt and disfigure Eddie in her jealousy. Running alongside this fictional storyline are various interviews with the real-life queens who act in the film, who offer insights about life in Tokyo for queens and how the film will represent them.
