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“Bakeneko: A Vengeful Spirit” * (1968, Severin Films) Power-mad Ryohei Uchida spots young Kyoko Mikage and immediately demands that she join his harem; this does not sit well with her fiance (Kotaro Satomi), who fights Uchida’s thugs and dies, with Mikage, in a swamp where, years before, another woman – the wife of the previous town leader, whom Uchida murdered – drowned herself and her cat rather than submit to his brutish demands. The cat emerges from the swamp, licks their wounds, and helps transform “Bakeneko” from a melancholy examination of power and privilege into a blood-soaked story of supernatural revenge, complete with half-cat ghost women, demonic possession, dessicated corpses, and gallons of spilled blood and severed limbs. One of many Japanese films based on kaibyo, or supernatural cats, “Bakeneko” benefits greatly from writer/director Yoshihiro Ishikawa’s carefully measured pace and painterly aesthetic, which makes the explosion of horror and violence in its final third all the more striking. Part of Severin’s 13-disc folk horror set “All the Haunts Be Ours Vol. 2,” “Bakeneko” features a 4K transfer from the film negative, detailed commentary by Japanese film historian Jasper Sharp, an extensive overview of ghost cat lore, a reading of the folk tale “The Vampire Cat,” and a 2010 animated short, “Man-Eater Mountain,” which, like “Bakeneko,” begins quietly as a crime investigation before blooming into horror, though the imagery is far more nightmarish and explicit.
“Barbarella” * (1968, Arrow Video) Wide-eyed “astro-navigatrix” Barbarella is dispatched to stop scientist Durand Durand (Milo O’Shea, and yes, the origin for the band’s name) from unleashing the destructive powers of his positronic ray and in doing so, finds herself caught in a power struggle for the decadent planet Sogo between Durand, a rebel army led by David Hemmings and Marcel Marceau, and the fearsome Black Queen (Anita Pallenberg). If that sounds like nonsense, it is, but entirely intentional nonsense based on the French comic strip by Jean-Claude Forest and brought to the screen by Fonda’s then-husband, Roger Vadim, producer Dino De Laurentiis, and a flotilla of scripters, including Terry Southern (“Easy Rider”). Its tone – a mix of affectionate tribute to early space operas like “Flash Gordon,” bachelor pad sexual aesthetics (man as Big Dame Hunter, woman as energetic carnal child), and flirtations with the counterculture via the presence of Pallenberg, Hemmings (“Blow-Out”) and the nods to revolution – has aged well in some places and less so than others. But what remains enjoyable is Fonda’s deliberately guileless and funny performance, Bob Crewe’s swinging score, and the remarkable production design, costumes (by Jacques Fonteray) and photography by Claude (grandson of Pierre-Auguste) Renoir, which have enjoyed lasting influence on pop culture. Arrow’s 4k/Blu-ray combo offers a stellar 2160p transfer that gives an exceptional shine to the visuals, as well as English and French audio (Fonda provides her own vocals in the latter) and an isolated score track for Crewe’s music; Tim Lucas, who has extensively covered the various video iterations of “Barbarella” in his Video Watchdog mag, provides a highly informative commentary track, and joins comics legend/film historian Stephen R. Bissette for an equally detailed Zoom conversation about the film. Critic Glenn Kenney discusses the production and its star, while the film’s fashions and visuals get their own featurettes. Interviews with Ricky Tognazzi, whose father Ugo (“La Cage aux Folles”) plays the tricky Mark Hand in “Barbarella,” is interviewed, as is Italian action star Fabio Testi, who served as stunt double for John Phillip Law as Pygar the angel, and a fun vintage behind-the-scene short rounds out this excellent Blu-ray presentation.
“Underworld Beauty” * (1958, Radiance Films) Having served three years for a jewelry theft, laconic tough Michitaro Mizushima retrieves the goods in order to settle the score with former partner Toru Abe, who was left disabled after the heist. The reunion is quickly upended by the third partner (Shinsuke Ashida), now a mob boss with designs on the diamonds – which Abe swallows before taking a fatal dive off a building. What follows is a noirish game of capture the flag with two distinct variations: a blackly comic-ghoulish streak in the attempts ot retrieve the jewels from Abe’s corpse, and the presence of Abe’s hellion sister, played at full throttle by Mari Shiraki, who becomes Mizushima’s unwilling partner. The hard-drinking, acid-tongued Shiraki (whom, it should be noted, is not the sex kitten inferred by the cheesecake image on the disc’s cover) injects a welcome punk brashness into the tight-lipped jockeying between Mizushuma and Ashida, and underscores director Seijun Suzuki’s subtle attempt to upend the rigid laws of crime drama, a pursuit furthered by his experiments with framing within the widescreen format – an aesthetic he would develop to occasionally surreal heights in films like “Branded to Kill,” which established his “outlaw” reputation. Radiance’s all-region Blu-ray features a 4K restoration (which lends midnight luster to the film’s inky black palette) and Suzuki’s 1959 short “Love Letter,” which features remarkable locations in the Japanese Alps and a terrific final twist; an interview with critic Mizuki Kodama and liner notes by critic Claudia Seifen-Leitich are also included.
“Revenge of the Zombies” * (1943, Kino Lorber) Bayou-based mad scientist John Carradine creates zombies with the help of housekeeper/voodoo doyenne Madame Sul-Te-Wan, with the intent of providing reanimated corpses as indestructible soldiers for the Axis; his brother-in-law (Mauritz Hugo) and a detective (future screen Batman Robert Lowery) investigate, while Mantan Moreland and Gale Storm offer various forms of support. Enjoyable low-budget fare from Monogram Pictures, and a semi-sequel/remake of 1941’s “King of the Zombies” rejiggered for the wartime effort (Kino’s version ends with the original plug for War Bonds); Carradine lends his usual theatrical polish to the proceedings, and Moreland is amusing, but the film’s highlight is the wonderfully monikered Veda Ann Borg as Carradine’s wife, who upends his zombification process by retaining not only free will but also the titular need for revenge and an arch sense of humor. Kino’s remastered Blu-ray looks exceptionally good and features commentary by Tom Weaver and Gary D. Rhodes, who discuss, among other topics, the unusual career of director Steve Sekeley, which included noir, war dramas, and “The Day of the Triffids.”
