Skip to content

Plot: cyborg flees into the desert after ignoring his programming.

Hands Of Steel (released domestically as Vendetta dal Futuro, and in France as Atomic Cyborg) answers the question that nobody asked: what if The Terminator (1984) ignored his programming, fled into the Arizona desert and took up armwrestling in some remote divebar instead? It’s the kind of movie that only the Italians could and would make. Who else could come up with a cross between The Terminator (1984) and Over the Top (1987) on the budget of the average Filipino action movie? Hands Of Steel often feels as if it’s three movies mashed crudely into one. It bounces between a pedestrian sports movie, a dystopian science-fiction thriller low on intelligence and production values, and a brass-knuckles actioner without crunch. It’s emblematic of mid-to-late 1980s Italian action. The concept and ideas are far too ambitious for the meager budget it was alotted. 6 credited screenwriters, a seventh for additional dialog. Not a coherent line anywhere – and Swedish minx Janet Ågren, sadly, keeps her clothes on. Never before were Blade Runner (1982) and The Terminator (1984) pilfered so expertly. At least not until Bruno Mattei’s craptacular Shocking Dark (1989) and the 2010 Mainland China exploitation boom almost twenty years later.

The Italian shlock movie industry took a heavy blow in the eighties when wide theatrical releases for cheap, imported titles in North America, once their biggest market and sure-fire way to turn a profit, became scarce. The nascent home video market became the new home of exploitation and shlock of various stripe. This unfortunately also meant that belts were tightened and producers/directors no longer were able to commandeer the kind of budgets and resources that they once had in prior decades. Hands Of Steel is not 2019 – After the Fall Of New York (1983), it’s barely above Giuseppe Vari’s post-nuke swansong Urban Warriors (1987), where bit players Bruno Bilotta and Alex Vitale would land their own feature, but that is faint praise. Hands Of Steel wishes it was half as good and action-packed as The Raiders Of Atlantis (1983). Unfortunately it is anything but. Not even John Saxon and Janet Ågren can save it from relentless drudgery. Hands Of Steel is painfully glorious and gloriously painful.

Sergio Martino was a director who dabbled in every genre under the sun. Among other things, he launched the career of French model-turned-actress Edwige Fenech through a series of bubbly commedia sexy all’italiana and stylish gialli. Fenech had just completed a string of German comedies, including the bubbly The Sweet Pussycats (1969). Earlier in the year Top Sensation (1969) had launched Edy as the hottest and most in-demand starlet in Italian genre cinema. In his storied four decade career Martino directed offerings as diverse as Arizona Colt, Hired Gun (1970), The Strange Vice of Mrs Wardh (1970), All Colors Of the Dark (1972), Torso (1973), Mountain Of the Cannibal God (1978), Cream Puffs (1981), 2019 – After the Fall Of New York (1983), and Beyond Kilimanjaro, Across the River of Blood (1990). Whoever thought it was a good idea to let comedy specialist Martino direct a sci-fi/action romp clearly had no clue what his forté was. It’s probably the same skewed and random decisionmaking that led to Marino Girolami directing Zombie Holocaust (1980). Hands Of Steel isn’t Martino’s finest moment, but it’s more or less on the same level as the action-adventure dross Antonio Margheriti and Enzo G. Castellari were churning out around this time.

In the far-flung future past of 1997 pollution has ravaged the Earth and made it nigh on uninhabitable. Turner Corporation CEO Francis Turner (John Saxon) sees his bottom line threatened by the preachings of blind wheelchair-bound environmentalist guru Reverend Arthur Moseley (Franco Fantasia). He sends out cyborg soldier Paco Queruak (Daniel Greene), the most efficient and reliable in his product line, to quell the rebellion by taking out its leader. Upon reaching his target Queruak is plagued by memories of the past, only wounding the Reverend and fleeing into the nearby Arizona desert. At the local motel he meets Linda (Janet Ågren), who is in need of a handyman. Linda’s abode is the gathering spot for local armwrestlers, truckers and general troublemakers. Linda’s tavern is decorated with pictures from wrestlers Bruno Sammartino, Hillbilly Jim, Magnum TA and Dory Funk, Jr. One day working for Linda, Queruak draws the ire of perrennally sweaty Méxican no-good trucker Raul Morales (Luigi Montefiori, as George Eastman) and Tri-State arm-wrestling champion Anatolo Blanco (Darwyn Swalve). Queruak’s creator Professor Olster (Donald O’Brien) is paid a visit by Turner’s mercenaries Peter Howell (Claudio Cassinelli) and Hunt (Sergio Testori) – and when he fails to stop them, Linda is threatened at gunpoint by cyborg assassins Eddie (Andrea Coppola, as Andrew Louis Coppola) and Susie (Daria Nicolodi). Paco intervenes and things come to a violent, fiery clash. The fate of mankind will not be decided by some apocalyptic nuclear war, but in a fierce close-quarters confrontation.

The main portion of Hands Of Steel concerns itself with Queruak’s travails in and around the desert motel, his conflict with Raul Morales and his relationship with Janet Ågren’s Linda. Janet Ågren had come off Eaten Alive! (1980), City Of the Living Dead (1981) and Red Sonja (1985) and apparently this wasn’t enough to forward her starpower beyond redundant impoverished genre exercises like this. Hands Of Steel also features that other Italian low-budget action star of the 80s, Bruno Bilotta (popularly known as Karl Landgren) as one of the Reverend’s security detail. Other notables include the late, great John Saxon and an uncredited Daria Nicolodi as a rival cyborg assassin. Hands Of Steel is a typical example of the genre were it not that it anticipates Paul Verhoeven’s RoboCop (1987), Universal Soldier (1992), and Albert Pyun’s Nemesis (1992) as its conflicted cyborg protagonist struggles with his programming and what is left of his humanity. Likewise does it pre-date the Sylvester Stallone arm-wrestling epic Over the Top (1987) by a single year. Martino films the whole with detached bemused disinterest as this is clearly not his wheelhouse. Hands Of Steel would’ve been blissfully forgotten were it not that Claudio Cassinelli was killed in an on-set helicopter crash during filming, necessitating the third-act disposing of his character. In between there’s enough techno-babble and arm-wrestling for everybody.

The nominal star of Hands Of Steel is Daniel Greene. Greene was an American television actor that somehow ended up in Italian exploitation trash as Hammerhead (1987), Soldier of Fortune (1990), and Condor (1990). In the late nineties he had his scenes deleted in the Farrelly brothers comedy There's Something About Mary (1998). Greene later had parts in other Farrelly brothers comedies as Me, Myself & Irene (2000), Shallow Hall (2001), and Stuck On You (2003). Janet Ågren was a Swedish model whose Nordic beauty sparked a quarter-century long career. Ågren debuted in The Two Crusaders (1968) and was a fixture in commedia sexy all’Italiana for several years. Somehow she escaped the fate that befell Christina Lindberg, Solveig Andersson, and Marie Forså. In the eighties Janet found herself in Eaten Alive! (1980), City Of the Living Dead (1980) and the considerably more high-profile Red Sonja (1985), but also in a Filipino The Karate Kid (1984) knockoff called The Boy With the Golden Kimono (1987). Suffice to say Ågren was no Gloria Guida, Barbara Bouchet, Sabrina Siani, Mónica Zanchi, or Cinzia Monreale. No, Ågren was far too classy and much too pretty for grubby exploitation and she never allowed herself to suffer the sordid degradation and assorted indignities that some of her contemporaries subjected themselves to.

The odds were certainly stacked against Hands Of Steel. Elisa Briganti (as Elisabeth Parker Jr.), Dardano Sacchetti, and Ernesto Gastaldi all contributed to the script – but 6 writers do not a decent script make. Production designer Massimo Antonello Geleng had worked on Eaten Alive! (1980), City Of the Living Dead (1981), 2019 - After the Fall Of New York (1983), Hercules (1983) and its sequel The Adventures Of Hercules (1985) as well as The Ark Of the Sun God (1984) and Dellamorte Dellamore (1994). Clearly Geleng couldn’t make more of what little he had been given. Director of photography Giancarlo Ferrando (as John McFerrand) lensed a lot of commedia sexy all’Italiana and he’s clearly out of his element here. Sadly, he would go on to work with Alfonso Brescia on Cross Mission (1988) where the only ray of light was one-time wonder Brigitte Porsche.

Spaghetti western and peplum monument Franco Fantasia is wasted as Reverend Arthur Moseley, a role that gives him nothing to do. He clearly was a long way from Kriminal (1966), Seven Blood-Stained Orchids (1972), Murder Mansion (1972), Mountain Of the Cannibal God (1978), Zombie (1979), and Eaten Alive! (1980). Decades prior he was in big budget Hollywood peplums as Ben-Hur (1959), and Quo Vadis (1951). Donald O’Brien was a regular in Italian schlock and can be seen in Emanuelle and the Last Cannibals (1977), the original The Inglorious Bastards (1978), Zombie Holocaust (1980), 2020 Texas Gladiators (1983), and Warriors of the Year 2072 (1984). In short, Hands Of Steel is nobody’s finest hour. Except maybe that of George Eastman, whose excursions seldom ventured beyond trash auteur Joe D’Amato and his assorted ilk. Sadly, it never gets quite as absurd as The Raiders Of Atlantis (1983).

Hands Of Steel is one of those cynical pastiches from the once-flourishing Italian exploitation industry that were becoming a dying breed at that point. Over the course of the same decade were birthed Contamination (1980), Nightmare City (1980), and Alien 2: On Earth (1980) to name some of the most infamous. Hands Of Steel dared answer the question that James Cameron’s Terminator 2: Judgment Day (1991) never asked: what if the Terminator struggled with his programming and instead of protecting his target took up menial work and armwrestling instead?

It’s the sort of question that Mainland China would provide plenty of possible answers for in the 2010s, but Italy got there first. Hands Of Steel might not be Sergio Martino’s best work, or anybody's for that matter, really. The Terminator (1984) spawned exactly one good sequel that did not dilute from its original vision. It did begat a slew of canonical sequels that have done irreparable harm to the brand. It’s difficult to hold a grudge against something innocent as this when the Hollywood machine does so much damage all by itself.

Plot: archeology students unleash spirit of cursed mummy.

Isis Rising: Curse Of the Lady Mummy (hereafter Isis Rising) is probably the worst mummy movie this side of Dawn Of the Mummy (1981) and Paul Naschy’s veritably insane The Mummy’s Revenge (1975) (which at least had the good grace of having both Helga Liné and María Silva in its cast). Indo-American adult star Priya Anjali Rai headlines this genderswapped riff on Karl Freund’s classic Universal horror feature The Mummy (1932) (with Boris Karloff) along with fellow adult star James Bartholet and an array of regular TomCat Films warm bodies. Written, produced, and directed by platinum blonde one-woman-industry Lisa Palenica and filmed at Mesa Museum in Scottsdale, Arizona Isis Rising is fairly typical TomCat Films fodder that could have been a whole lot worse, but also a whole lot better. As a debut outing Isis Rising is none too shabby an effort and Palenica has enough potential as a filmmaker to carve out a decent career for herself if she ever lands a project with a good script and decent funding. We sincerely hope that Lisa Palenica will be able to exchange TomCat Films and The Asylum productions for greener pastures. Supposedly those that are artistically more fulfilling than this drab.

Everybody has to start somewhere. In case of director Lisa Palenica that was Isis Rising. Not only did she direct; she wrote, produced, and starred in it as well. The only other recognizable name is Priya Anjali Rai who both played the title role and served as an associate producer. In her solitary non-porn production Priya Rai hardly fares half as good as her colleague Veronica Ricci. It makes you wonder when the inevitable TomCat Films production with Xev Bellringer, Bella Brookz, or Kayla Kiss as the female lead is bound to turn up. Isis Rising is one part a contemporary take on The Mummy (1932) and Herschell Gordon Lewis’ Blood Feast (1963) with a dash of Blood From the Mummy’s Tomb (1971) and a resurrection spell straight ouf of Sam Raimi’s The Evil Dead (1981). It’s the Osiris myth from the Pyramid Texts, a collection of ancient Egyptian religious texts dating to the Old Kingdom, reimagined as a low-budget slasher horror with poster art that probably served better as a Nile or Septicflesh album cover. It’s one of the better TomCat Films production of recent memory, although that bar isn’t exactly high to begin with. Maybe TomCat Films is the new Troma, only time will tell…

In a time before time the glorious kingdom of ancient Egypt was ruled over by primeval god Osiris (Cameron Tevis) and his queen Isis (Priya Anjali Rai, as Priya Rai). His jealous brother Set (Wilman Vergara Jr.) has his sights set upon the throne and murders Osiris in cold blood to crown himself the new ruler of the kingdom. Isis’ attempts to resurrect Osiris with her ritual black magic come to naught when Set catches her in the act and scatters the remains of Osiris across the land. Isis vows to avenge the slaying of Osiris, the true monarch of Egypt, and that promises she and her king will rule over the land once more. In present day Egyptologist Dr. Nasir (Seth Gandrud) has been given the opportunity by curator Nancy Reginald (Judith Eisenberg) to catalog a cache of artifacts recently donated to the museum. To that end he has invited his good friend Professor Robert Shields (Randy Oppenheimer) and the current graduating archeology class – bookworm Amy (Aria Song, as Jing Song), stoner Jay (Michael C. Alvarez, as Michael Alvarez) and his girlfriend Felicia (Lisa Palenica), as well as airheaded jock Dustin (Joshua DuMond) and his girlfriend Serrena (Shellie Ulrich) - to assist him in that task. As Nasir and Amy study The Book of the Undead and set to translate the tablet containing The Lament of Isis, the others fool around in the basement and smoke an ancient herb used in Isis’ resurrection ceremonies. As Isis comes to life in her sarcophagus and vows to slay the descendants of her betrayers, the students one by one fall victim to the curse of the lady mummy…

It goes without saying that Isis Rising, even by the most forgiving slasher standards, is pretty damn tedious and aggravating. The screenplay jumps from one cliché plot contrivance to the next and not one stereotype is avoided. The “spam in a cabin” is the oldest of cheap horror archetypes and Isis Rising conforms to the worst conventions of its American variant. Palenica certainly has done an admirable job under what must have been far from optimal circumstances but that doesn’t remove how boorish Isis Rising is most of the time. There isn’t a whole lot to redeem what little value Isis Rising might have. The digital special effects work is tolerable but isn’t going to win anybody any prices, the cast is what charitably can be called a ragtag bunch of enthusiastic nobodies.

Aria Song and Lisa Palenica are, by far, the best among these assembled warm bodies. Aria Song and her TomCat colleague Ginny You definitely deserve something better than low-hanging cinematic fruit like this. Song and You could hold their own a Netflix, Hallmark, or LifeTime feature. That Veronica Ricci made to the jump to regular cinema is at least understandable as she could reasonably act a bit. Priya Rai on the other hand can’t and doesn’t. Perhaps with a different leading lady Isis Rising could have been something. This clearly isn’t it. Rai is a lot of things but a Valerie Leon, or Helga Liné she most definitely is not. Apparently what little budget there was was spent on bodypainting Rai’s oversized breasts rather than on important things like props, a good writer, or a decent cast.

What mostly kills Isis Rising is how unbelievably turgid and belabored it is. By the 2010s the American slasher had a history spanning three decades (with its European cousin pre-dating it by one or two more) and the mummy had been a staple at least since the old Universal Horrors in the 1930s. In other words, there was plenty of precendent and countless of avenues to take the material in. This has neither the production value of The Mummy’s Revenge (1975) nor the sheer gore of Dawn Of the Mummy (1981) and falls somewhere in that maligned shadowy region of nineties “horror” that was neither sexy nor scary. Obviously the budget was limited as Isis Rising is restricted to about one or two locations with very sparse special effects work. Most effects work is of the reviled digital variety as the budget probably didn’t allow for old fashioned practical – and prosthetic effects. All the usual low-budget criticisms apply: the cinematography from Webb Pickersgill is shoddy at best; nobody except Palenica, and Song can really act; the score is fairly typical of TomCat fodder. Short on both carnage and nudity (some versions optically fog out Raj’s exposed breasts) Isis Rising is horror for people who don’t watch horror. In her defense at least Lisa Palenica knows her horror classics. If only she could prove her directorial prowess with a decently funded production.

Most insulting perhaps is that Isis Rising could have been a halfway tolerable slasher had it been produced by anyone else than TomCat Films. Isis Rising is both torturously overwrought and horrendously undercooked at the same time. As such it is tediously predictable and predictably tedious. By the most forgiving and lowliest of slasher standards Isis Rising has both underwhelming kills and a severe lack of sleaze – and Rai’s massive mammaries alone hardly are enough to keep the viewers’ attention. In hindsight it’s understandable that Priya Rai chose to return to porn after Isis Rising as it’s even more difficult to make it as a mainstream actress (even in the margin and the dregs of Hollywood) than as an adult performer. More damning is that Isis Rising never comes around to fulfilling what little potential it had. A slasher is the easiest, most cost-effective horror subgenre known to man yet somehow Isis Rising manages to make a bodycount movie terminally uninteresting. The brunt of the blame shouldn’t be heaped upon Lisa Palenica. She made the best of what little she was given. The blame falls squarely on TomCat Films for this one. Not even The Asylum would be caught redhanded with dross like this. It makes you wonder what Palenica could do for Arrowstorm Entertainment – or what she could conjure up when paired with Rene Perez or Neil Johnson.