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Month: April 2020

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Plot: everything is not well in casa Gustafsson. Hilarity ensues!

In what is either Sweden’s biggest cult classic or the ultimate kalkonklassiker Rötmånad (or Dog Days, rated X and released in specialized blue-film grindhouses across North America as the more poetic What Are You Doing After the Orgy?) Christina Lindberg, the biggest domestic export and soon-to-be sexploitation queen, can be seen giving her best performance ever and often with very little in the way of clothes (although not always in that order necessarily) in what is her best offering by a wide margin. Rötmånad (Dog Days hereafter) is a comedy in tune with the times, and something that could’ve just as easily have been made in Great Britain, Germany, or Italy. There isn’t much worth recommending in the early Lindberg canon but Dog Days is the exception. Indicative of where la Lindberg’s career was heading, Dog Days is rife with the blackest of humour and there’s plenty of naked Christina for everybody to go around.

Christina Lindberg was a former archeology student that took to nude modelling, and was a Penthouse Pet (June, 1970). Like Leena Skoog before her Lindberg and her voluptuous figure were bound to attract the attention of producers, and she debuted in the inauspicious Dog Days in 1970. In 1973 she released her photo book This Is Christina Lindberg by her photographer and soon-to-be husband Bo Sehlberg. By the end of the decade Lindberg had to make a choice; stay employed and graduate into hardcore (the way Marie Forså and Marina Hedman did) or change careers. Christina chose the latter, retrained herself to become a journalist and now is the driving force behind the n° 1 aviation magazine in Sweden.

The men behind Dog Days were the duo of Bengt Forslund and Olle Nordemar. Forslund gave Lasse Hallström his first directorial features after his music video work with/for ABBA and Nordemar was a specialist in family/kids movies. In the late sixties he introduced Inger Nilsson and her iconic Pippi Longstocking to the world with a television series based on the Astrid Lindgren novels, followed almost immediately by a threatrical movie, and no less than three sequels. Forslund and Nordemar chose Jan Halldoff to direct as he had a knack for social realist comedies and dramas, often (but not always) involving youth culture of the day. Very much like Skoog in her Laila (17 år) (1969) reels there’s something very cinema verité the way Halldorf photograps Lindberg, and there didn’t seem to be much acting, or anything, involved. Even without the benefit of subtitling or English dubbing Dog Days is a pretty funny affair – and the title becomes crystal clear when its Darwinistic streak kicks in…

Somewhere in the rural environs of Sandhamn in Värmdö Municipality on the Stockholm Archipelago barber Assar Gustafsson (Carl-Gustaf Lindstedt) has been spending the summer with his 17-year old daughter Anna-Bella (Christina Lindberg) and family dog Ludde at their vacation home. They experience a rude awakening from their quiet, idyllic life in the country far away from civilization when Assar’s wife and Anna-Bella’s mother Sally (Ulla Sjöblom) – the town prostitute, believed missing (and presumed dead) for the last 5 years – makes a sudden and unexpected return. When Sally discovers that Anna-Bella has blossomed into beautiful young woman she promptly announces her plan to start a brothel out of the bathhouse. She immediately starts grooming the uninhibited Anna-Bella who’s prone to walking around the house semi-nude, so Sally arranges an assessing man (Curt L. Malmsten) and a photographer (Jan Blomberg) to make the most out of the situation. She uses Anna-Bella to attract customers to her cathouse and Assar is blackmailed into working as a waiter. The brothel becomes an overnight success thanks to Anna-Bella’s silent presence.

The brothel, and the coming and going of various guests (Gunnar 'Knas' Lindkvist and Christer Jonsson), and the naked shenanigans of the mostly mute Anna-Bella attract the attention not only of their neighbour Jansson (Ernst Günther), and a Finlander in a rowboat (Frej Lindqvist) but also that of Jan (Eddie Axberg). Almost immediately sparks fly between Jan and Anna-Bella. Having had enough Sally murders Jan in cold blood on the grounds that as a prostitute Anna-Bella can’t afford the luxury of emotions and that Jan was a nuisance. Assar is none too happy when he gets wind what Sally has done, and rigs her love-nest explode to ensure her permanent absence and a return to their quiet country life from before. Learning of Jan’s death Anna-Bella metes out retribution by killing her mother. One day a tortured Assar is installing a lightning rod Sally had continually bugged him about, and is electrocuted in doing so. Memorial arrangements are made with the priest (Carl-Axel Elfving), and the only way Anna-Bella knows how of repaying friendly mortician Ivar Frid (Bo Halldoff) is by offering her body. They retreat to Sally’s dynamite-rigged love-nest and everything explodes. In the aftermath of this series of unfortunate events only family dog Ludde remains….

Scandinavia has always had a far more liberated, relaxed, and not nearly as repressed attitude towards nudity and sexuality compared to the rest of Europe and the North American continent. Denmark and Sweden were considered the Mecca of hedonism and both took an active role as a pioneer in the bridging the gap between soft – and hardcore pornography. They welcomed Joe Sarno when he was exiled from America in the late sixties and graced the world with the likes of Solveig Andersson, Marie Forså, Leena Skoog, Margareta Sjödin, Marina Hedman, and Marie Liljedahl. Canada had the maple syrup porn of Valérie (1968) (with Danielle Ouimet) and Sweden had Inga (1968) and the two Laila (17 år) (1969) one-reels. The rise of Christina Lindberg coincided with the halcyon days of the bawdy sex comedy in such places as France, Germany, Great Britain, and Italy. So, it’s no wonder that miss Lindberg ended up in one of the many Schoolgirl Report (1970) sequels years later. Denmark was one of the first countries to legalize hardcore pornography in 1969, but the sexploitation genre took a blow only when the rest of Europe followed suit about ten years later. There was a brief revival of the genre during the early-to-mid 1980s with the Cine-S in Spain and the Brazilian pornochanchada, but they were quickly made redundant with the wide availability of the harder format in the then-booming home video market.

And what other reason to seek out Dog Days than to see Christina Lindberg in her prime? Compared to her sometime colleague and contemporary Leena Skoog, Lindberg is something of a boorish bore. Whereas Skoog illuminated the two Laila (17 år) (1969) one-reels with her radiant sensuality, carefree uninhibitness, and considerable girlish charm Lindberg doesn’t generate so much as a pulse at the best of times. Skoog would go on to star in Britain’s first 3-D film Four Dimensions of Greta (1972) from Pete Walker whereas Lindberg would star in ugly and kinda nihilistic sexploitationers as Exponerad (1971), Maid In Sweden (1971), Thriller - A Cruel Picture (1973), Anita Swedish Nymphet (1973), and Wide Open (1974). The things Christina appeared in make you wish she found a footing in Germany, Great Britain, or Italy, who at least made their sex comedies lighthearted, full of slapstick and, well, fun. There’s more than plenty of naked Christina for anyone to go around in all of her movies, but none of them are particularly worth revisiting after an initial viewing. Gloria Guida also consistently made churlish sex comedies – but at least they were fun, and for every more melodramatic one there was a lighthearted romp with Lino Banfi in return. No such thing was the case with Lindberg’s career that went from bad to worse in the span of just a few years. No wonder Christina called it a day at the dawn of the eighties, alhough she would have found a home in Spain’s shortlived Cine-S circuit. Oh well, at least it’s good to see her get reappraised in recent years thanks to Quentin Tarantino.

It’s a question for the ages why Dog Days was released with an X rating in North America. Outside of Lindberg’s near-constant state of undress there’s nothing particularly explicit about it. Next to that, this wasn’t a case of The Devil’s Wedding Night (1973), Malabimba (1979), or Satan’s Baby Doll (1982) either where the presence of hardcore inserts would condemn it automatically to a universally fatal X-rating and thus to a release exclusively in the sex cinemas on 42nd street and practically no marketing campaign worthy of the name. Nor did it have to compete for attention on the home video market (as that was still a decade away) or see only limited threatrical release and distribution across the Atlantic as many Italian titles had to a decade later. Dog Days is an anomaly of sorts in the early Christina Lindberg canon and it was indicative of exactly in what type of movies she would make a name for herself. Which sorts of begs an additional question: what would have become of Christina had Tinto Brass discovered her at the dawn of the eighties? Would she have become the Swedish Serena Grandi, Luciana Ottoviani, or Debora Caprioglio? One thing is certain: Dog Days is Christina’s best film… and you should really see it, if you can.

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Plot: tough cop investigates the disappearance of her reporter sister.

Cirio H. Santiago was a visionary. He produced 82 movies in 50 years, and directed a good hundred himself up to his passing in 2008. Santiago was the man behind the first color horror feature in the Philippines with The Blood Drinkers (1964) (with Amalia Fuentes) and the inventor of the topless kickboxing movie. First he had Playboy Playmate of the Month (October, 1969) Jean Bell in the blaxploitation martial arts sub-classic TNT Jackson (1974). At the dawn of the eighties he reimagined his classic in the form of the self-proclaimed “erotic kung fu classic” Naked Fist (1981) with Jillian Kessner. Proving both that bigger isn't necessarily better and that third time isn't always the charm, the Roger Corman produced Angelfist has lousy dialog, stilted fights that make Albert Pyun look exciting, and one of the worst cases of miscasting that no amount of skin can possibly save...

The nominal star of Angelfist is Catya Sassoon, the daughter of shampoo magnate and hair stylist Vidal and sister of director Oley Sassoon and who bad movie connoisseur Joe Bob Briggs once poetically described as, “the fist of an angel and the face of a fist.” . Cat was a model that lived fast and died young, and somehow parlayed her '80s sass into an acting career, or what should pass for it. Angelfist was her big break and Cat threw herself into the role with zest. Allegedly Sassoon studied tae kwon do and arnis de mano in preparation, and if her acting was nothing to particularly write home about - her martial arts would make up for it. Santiago had a habit of fabricating titles and Sassoon supposedly was the "World Karate Association North American Champion" (never mind that neither of his two former stars had any formal martial arts training either). By 1991, at age 21, Cat was addicted to drugs and alcohol and a regular at detox clinics. A year later Cat attended the 1992 Cannes Film Festival to promote Angelfist. Less than ten years later Cat died of a drug-induced heart-attack in late 2001.

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Kristie Lang (Sibel Birzag) is a photo journalist who clandestinely captures a political assassination on film in Manila. When she tries to hand over evidence to the official channels she's brick walled at American Embassy who not only are lost in never-ending bureaucracy but also have to deal with the more pressing matter of constant protests against more US military bases in the Philippines. Distraught she hands over the incriminating evidence to Sulu (Sheila Lintan), an exotic dancer at a gentlemen’s club. For this transgression Lang is murdered by the Black Brigades terrorist cell. Back in the good ol' US of A tough-as-nails cop Katara ‘Kat’ D. Lang (K.D. Lang? Really?) (Catya Sassoon) catches wind of the circumstances surrounding her sister’s passing books the next flight to Manila. Told by Bayani (Roland Dantes), Kirstie’s erstwhile trainer, that “vengeance is not an acceptable motive for entering the kumite!” she bests the man in arnis de mano impressing corrupt event promoter Mr. Carrion (Tony Carreon). Suddenly Kat is allowed to partake in the Kubate.

The only caveat is that Carrion insists that she proves her worth in a qualifying match. In the audience of said match is Nordic blonde Lorda (Melissa Moore) and the closest thing to an ally that Kat will have next to conman Alcatraz (Michael Shaner) who has all the underworld connections but whose alliances and motives are sketchy at best. The Black Brigade, a cell of revolutionary insurgents seeking to destabilize political relations between the Philippines and the US, see Kat as their latest threat. Their leader Cirio Quirino (Henry Strzalkowski) dispatches highly organized, disciplined and patient assassin with an affinity for classic arts Bontoc or Gold Tooth (Christina Portugal) to neutralize the problem. In an incredibly groan-inducing explosive finale killer Kat thwarts an assassination attempt on ambassador Franklin (Ken Metcalfe), rescues her proxy girlfriend Lorda from the Black Brigades, and manages to bring her sister's murderer to justice.

For those who thought Bloodmatch (1991) and Heatseeker (1995) were as interesting as watching paint dry, old Cirio offers ample evidence that boobs alone not a good movie make. There's hardly any complaints on that end as neither Santiago nor Angelfist waste any time in getting to that what everybody's here for. And that's where the horrible case of miscasting comes in. Melissa Moore (sometime Playboy Playmate in 1991) was, by far, the better actress. In a just world this would have been a Moore starring vehicle with Sassoon in a supporting role. Moore was the star of the Jim Wynorski boobfest Hard to Die (1990), and the insane Samurai Cop (1991). The late Cat Sassoon was horribly, tragically miscast here and while Angelfist exceeds Naked Fist (1981) both in terms of violence and nudity it never becomes more than a sum of its parts. It's one of those instances where you actively wish the lead would keep her top on for once. It almost makes you wonder why Sassoon’s plastic pair didn't get their own credit.

This has more leotards than Nightmare City (1980) and just about looks what a martial arts movie by Zalman King or Andy Sidaris would look like. If Lorda's pick-up line (“you ever had a blonde?”) rings familiar that because Andy Sidaris used it earlier and better. Angelfist is Bloodsport (1988) or Kickboxer (1989) with boobs but without talent. No wonder that Heatseeker (1995) ended up stealing some of its best scenes from this. Angelfist etches dangerously close to late night cable soft erotica with its abundance of communal shower scenes. There's obvious chemistry and mutual attraction between the Kat and Lorda characters but it never results in extensive mutual groping nor is there an equivalent of the warehouse scene from Naked Fist (1981). In retrospect Cirio H. Santiago's Naked trilogy more or less is a parallel franchise to Wong's Naked series. While Santiago's is more transparently exploitative for all the obvious reasons the law of diminishing returns struck hard and swift in both.

And this really brings us to the crux of this review: why was the world forever denied a standalone spinoff with Melissa Moore's Lorda as the central character? Even Chingmy Yau Suk-Ching was given her own (albeit cheaper) sub-franchise with Raped By an Angel (1993-1999) after the runaway success of Naked Killer (1992). Santiago specialized in everything from exploding bamboo-hut Vietnam yarns, to post-nuke Mad Max (1979) rip-offs, and topless kickboxing features. Above all, though, Cirio was the master of the female-centric action romp. His shadow looms long over the Filipino movie industry, and in recent memory only Maria (2019) has come close to recapturing that what Santiago once made an industry out of. Like The Expendables (1988) at the end of the prior decade Angelfist might not have been old Cirio's finest hour but for every dud there's a Stryker (1983), Wheels of Fire (1985), Silk (1986), or The Sisterhood (1988). Santiago never bet on one horse, and with Angelfist he clearly missed the race...