Run and Kill (Billy Tang, 1993)

You just know something terrible is going to happen to the rotund protagonist at the centre of Billy Tang's excessively grim Run and Kill, yet another entry in my veiled, and some might say, misguided, attempt to seem less lame by watching a shitload of Category III films. Well, for starters, you used the word "grim" to describe it right out of the gate. Yeah, but remember, Billy Tang directed Red to Kill, one of the grimmest movies ever made. In other words, you shouldn't be that surprised that a film he made might come off as a little grim. Oh, man. How should I put this? This film is more than "a little grim." It's bleak, it's disturbing, it's violent, and it's dark as hell. Anyway, since I got sidetracked, I'd like to finish my original point. And, if memory serves me correctly, the point I was trying to make went something like this: I knew a terrible tragedy was about to befall this film's tubby lead judging by the overly good mood he seemed be in when he wakes up. You can just tell that this isn't going to be his day. Wait, "isn't going to be his day"? You make it sound like he's about to get the mother of all parking tickets. I would like to think that someone who is forced to watch their daughter burnt to a crisp would use stronger language than that to describe their day. How about being forced to watch a man get stabbed in the leg with a piece of bamboo? What kind of language would that entail? I don't know, but it sounds like this guy's being forced to watch a lot heinous stuff over the course of a single day. Actually, a lot of it occurs over the period of a couple of days, maybe even a week. Either way, every horrible thing you can imagine happening to a chubby Chinese man takes place in this film. And, yes, at one point he even accidentally knocks off the charred head that was once attached to the equally charred body of his recently flame-broiled daughter.
 

 

As I let that mental image sink in a bit; which, I'll admit, it's definitely something you don't see transpire that often. I'm going to try to piece together the events that led up to that shockingly awful incident–shockingly awful even by Category III standards–by walking us through the series of unfortunate decisions made by Cheng Ng (Kent Cheng), or "Fatty," as he is more widely known.
 

 

In case we had any doubts whether or not Fatty was living the good life, the films opens with a shot of a framed photo taken on the day Fatty and his wife (Lily Lee) got married. Smiling from ear to ear, the photo is a reminder of the martial bliss Fatty and his wife experienced on that day. Are things still as blissful? Well, judging by the cheerful demenour Fatty displays as he wakes up, things couldn't better. After taking his daughter, Pinky(!), to school, he heads to work. The owner of a successful petrol station, Fatty would appear to have it all: a leggy wife, a daughter who is too adorable for words, and the respect of the community (his jaunt down the street reminded me of the opening credits of The King of Kensingston). 
 

 

Informed by his mother that today is his wedding anniversary, Fatty grabs a wad of cash out of a drawer. Before heading out to buy a present or some shit, Fatty drops by the apartment to wish his happy anniversary. As he enters, Fatty hears the sound of moaning. In typical Fatty fashion, Fatty begins to mimic the moaning sounds. However, the mimicry comes to screeching halt when he realizes that his wife is the one doing the moaning, and the moans are being caused by another man's cock.
 

 

Obviously depressed by what he just saw, Fatty wanders the nightclub district of Kowloon City in the mopiest manner possible. Stopped on the street by a childhood friend, scratch that, a classmate from school that he barely remembers, Fatty and the former classmate, a bi-curious ladies man, grab a tequila at the '97 Bar. (Quirky fun-fact: Tequila is the nickname of Chow Yun-Fat's character in Hard Boiled.)
 

 

I don't know how to put this, but one of the unexpected pleasures that come from watching Category III films, and Hong Kong cinema in general, are those rare moments when a white person appears onscreen. Spotting a white person standing in the background is one thing, but if they start speaking Cantonese, I lose it. White people who speak Cantonese are awesome. Don't tell anyone, but one of my favourite past times is searching the internet for videos that feature white people speaking Cantonese.

 

After about a dozen or so tequilas, Fatty is clearly drunk out of his mind. Since the former classmate has long since left, Fatty is reduced to mumbling to himself like an imbecile. Enter the alluring Fanny (Esther Kwan), a vision of loveliness in a saucy headband. Sitting on the stool next to Fatty, Fanny humours him by letting him pay for her drinks. Her attitude, however, changes immediately when she spots the wad of cash in his wallet (a wad he was supposed to use to pay for his wife's anniversary gift). Telling him that he should get back at his wife, Fanny grabs 5,000 from his wallet and instructs Fatty to wait here while she summons a friend who knows a thing or two about revenge.
 

 

It turns out that the friend Fanny summons is a low level gangster. And when he approaches Fatty near the john, all he can make out are the words "wife" and "dead." Putting two and two together, the low level gangster assumes that Fatty wants to put a hit out on his wife. Of course, we all know he didn't say that. Nonetheless, the low level gangster grabs 100,000 from his wallet as a down payment, and leaves Fatty in a heap.
 

 

Eventually making his way home, Fatty finds that his wife and her lover are still going at it. Unaware that assassins are about to come crashing through the door, Fatty tries to come an understanding with his wife; one that involves her not using their flat for adultery purposes. In typical Billy Tang fashion, the violence that comes through Fatty's door is swift and merciless. Knocked unconscious by the assassins during the attack, Fatty lies on the floor as his wife and her lover are murdered.
 

 

After being questioned by Inspector Man (Danny Lee) down at police headquarters, Fatty comes home to an empty apartment; oh, and, don't worry, Pinky is staying with his mother. Still oblivious to the fact that he was the one who ordered the hit on his wife, Fatty receives a phone call instructing him to come to the '97 Bar. Slowly but surely, Fatty begins to learn the truth.
 

 

Arson, blood drinking, torture, children set ablaze, impromptu puppet shows that boast puppets that are made from the corpses of charred children, hostage standoffs, porno theatre kung-fu fights (could you guys go kick each other in the face somewhere else, I'm trying to watch The Second Coming of Eva up in this Guangdong smut palace), crazy shootouts, and slit throats (complete with arterial spray) are what Fatty has in his future. Now, I don't know exactly who's to blame for Fatty's unique dilemma. But I do know one thing, a psychotic veteran of the Sino-Vietnamese War named Ching Fung (Simon Yam) is determined to make Fatty's life more of a living hell than it already is. If you doubt his life can't get any worse, than it's obvious you don't know Ching Fung. Blaming him for the death of his brother, Ching Fung does things to Fatty that will leave certain audience members aghast. Luckily, I'm not one of those "certain audience members." That being said, what occurs during the film's final third will shock even the most jaded fans of Hong Kong cinema.

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Naked Killer (Clarence Ford, 1992)

If you don't have a fetish for women's gloves. May I ask, why the hell not? Seriously, what's wrong with you? They're gloves. What's not to like? I tell you what, I'm going to leave the room for a second, and when I get back, I wanna see a fully-developed fetish for women's gloves sitting on my proverbial desk. If not, then, well, this isn't gonna work at all. See you in, oh, let's say, ten seconds. Okay, I'm back. Do you get sexually aroused by the sight of an attractive woman who is wearing gloves? I'll interpret your sheepish silence to mean, yes, you have in fact acquired a fetish for dainty hands sheathed in gloves. I won't lie, it's good to have you on board. How you were able to obtain the attributes necessary to convincingly exhibit the wide array of symptoms that come front-loaded with this particular fetish so quickly is nothing short of a miracle. Nevertheless, now we can proceed to talk about Naked Killer (a.k.a. Chik loh go yeung) in a calm and rational manner. Just kidding, nothing I've ever done could ever be construed as "calm" or "rational." We're going to analyze the hyper-stylized fashions that are worn  throughout this violent, Category III film about lethal lesbians and genital distress in early 1990s Hong Kong using the most exaggerated language possible. You don't have to ask yourself, but I'm going to make you ask anyway, when the female assassin that is eventually going to kill us all comes knocking at your door, what kind of gloves do want her to be wearing when she pulls the trigger on the gun aimed at your precious genitals? ("Precious" because they're the genitals you use to masturbate and occasionally use to have sex with.) Since you're not saying anything (this sheepish schtick is yours is starting to get tiresome), I'll step forward and say that I want my junk blown off with a gun that is fired by a hand that is encased in a glove that doesn't stray too far past the wrist, that is, of course, tight, very tight, and feminine. And as for the colour? Put me down for tiger print. 
 

 

I'm surprised you didn't want to be castrated by a gun that was being wielded by a hands that were wearing fingerless gloves or even opera gloves, as they're usually the type of glove in your glove fetish wheelhouse. What can I say? No fooling, what can I say? I'm at a lose for words. No, wait. I just got some. What can I say? I'm sucker for animal print. And, the last time I checked, a tiger is an animal. 
 

 

Eloquent as always, but what about the pantyhose?!? There's pantyhose in this film? Again, just kidding. I always notice pantyhose, and like the gloves, Naked Killer (赤裸羔羊) is stuffed with the sheer stuff your eyeballs crave.
 

 

In fact, a couple of shapely legs poured into a pair of fishnet pantyhose and a pair of gloved hands working a compact disc player are some the first images thrown at us in the bizarre mishmash of genres. Let's see if I can recall the sequence of the images that greet us during the film's ultra-stylish opening montage. There were definitely three women in silver masquerade masks. What else? Oh yeah, a string of pearls, red curtains, legs in fishnet pantyhose kicking up a storm, a woman performing a hair flip, a lesbian kiss, some topless stabbing, and, yeah, that's all I remember. Either way, as far as first impressions go, Naked Killer is pushing all the right buttons.
 

 

The correct buttons continue to be pushed as we follow a woman in red walking the rain-soaked streets of Hong Kong after dark. Apparently being pursued by a man wearing fingerless gloves, the woman, whose face is partially obscured by a red and yellow hat, fumbles with her keys, but eventually enters her apartment safe and sound (seconds later, her black glove-adorned hands can be seen putting on a CD). But wait, are we sure that it's her apartment. What?!? Yeah, it would seem that guy in the fingerless gloves is the one who is danger tonight. Finding a naked woman, one who will soon be known to us as Princess (Carrie Ng), taking a shower in his bathroom, the man is about to ask what she is doing in there, I mean, it's his shower, when, all of a sudden, she shoots his kneecaps out with a gun, smashes his head with a dumbbell, and shoots him in the balls.
 

 

Even though the scene where the cops investigate the scene of the crime failed to push any of the buttons I alluded to earlier, it does introduce us Tinam (Simon Yam), a cop on the edge. Actually, I don't think Tinam was on the edge. Oh, sure, he's definitely near an edge, all right. I just don't think he's on the edge. Anyway, still traumatized by the fact that he accidentally shot and killed his brother some time last year, Tinam is thrown off the case after insisting that the killer of the guy with the fingerless gloves and the killer behind a series of other murders that involved testicular perforation were carried out by a female assassin; his commanding officer thinks his theory is pure poppycock.
 

 

It's true, we saw her during the film's opening montage, but the hair salon scene is our first chance to see the gorgeous Chingmy Yau up close. Getting her hair done, Chingmy, who plays Kitty, takes exception with the way a male customer treats her black fishnet pantyhose-wearing friend (he kicks her in the stomach), and shows her displeasure by thrusting the pointy end of a pair of scissors into his crotch multiple times. Whether her frenzied stabbing motions managed to snag any Hong Kong cock is unclear. But either way, this Kitty chick is not someone to be trifled with. Of course, Tinam just happened to be getting a haircut when all this went down.
 

 

Running after Kitty, who is wearing black boots, black shorts (the kind that help foster legginess), and a red blouse, Tinam tries to persuade her to press against charges against the stomach kicking guy. As you might expect, this conversation doesn't go exactly as planned, as Tinam almost vomits and loses his pager. Finding his pager, Kitty uses it to track down Tinam, and shows up at his work (wearing fishnet pantyhose). Telling his commanding officer how helpful he was in doing something that was...obviously helpful, Tinam finds himself back on the case; he was briefly assigned to the forces anti-porn squad.
 

 

The next thing you know, Tinam is dry humping Kitty against a parked car. On a date together, Kitty, who is wearing red booty-gripping short shorts with black thigh-high boots, and Tinam seem to getting along swimmingly. And why wouldn't they? Her thighs are spectacular! And he, well, he's got that whole Chow Yun-Fat in A Better Tomorrow thing going for him. Unfortunately, Kitty's stepmother's lover murders her father. Wait, that doesn't sound right. Let me double check that. No, that's right. At any rate, angry over the fact some yuppie scumbag killed her father, Kitty shows up at the offices of Bee (Ken Lo) wielding two guns. (Who looks like Chow Yun-Fat now?) She may look like Chow Yun-Fat, but her aim isn't as true. After being kicked in the cunt multiple times by Bee, Kitty eventually gets the better of him, blasting him to kingdom come.
 

 

Stumbling out the office, her cunt no doubt black and blue from the stomping it just received, Kitty must now contend with Bee's henchmen. And since this is film was made in Hong Kong, the number of henchmen is off the charts. In no condition to battle hundreds of henchmen, Kitty looks like a goner.
 

 

Or is she? Hello, I'm Sister Cindy. And I'm 50! That's right, 50! I'm 50 years-old. And I can kick...and stretch...and kick! And I'm here to help. And boy, does she ever. Taking care of the henchmen that had  Kitty cornered in the building's parking garage with a milfy aplomb, Sister Cindy (Wai Yu), the tight grip of her age appropriate pantyhose pressing tightly against her resilient labia like an elastic band, ushers the amateur assassin to safety.
 

 

Waking up in nothing but a sports bra and panties, Kitty doesn't know it yet, but she's on the fast track to becoming a professional assassin. I don't know, I guess Sister Cindy, a professional assassin herself, saw potential in Kitty when she happened upon her misguided attempt to take out her father's killer.  Giving her a new identity, Sister Cindy starts to train Kitty to be a hit woman. At first, Sister Cindy has her practice on the limitless supply of child rapists she keeps locked in her basement. And then she teaches her an important lesson. "It doesn't matter whether your tits are big or small." In other words, a woman doesn't need a weapon when she has her body. This causes Kitty to wonder if she's being trained to be a killer or a prostitute.
 

 

What about Kitty and Tinam? Oh yeah. I completely forgot about them. How will Kitty's new lifestyle effect their relationship? It pretty much kills it, no pun intended. Which is sad, when you think about it, as I thought Kitty and Tinam had a good thing going. Nonetheless, that doesn't mean Tinam is going to give up on Kitty, or whatever she is calling herself now. Their love is too strong to be destroyed by a middle-aged hit woman who uses her shapely legs to get men to let their guard down or a deadly lesbian assassin who wears tiger print gloves and smokes fat cigars.
 

 

You really get a sense of the influence Basic Instinct had on this film during the scene where Kitty, who is pretending to be Vivian Shang, crosses her legs while being questioned by police. It's true, people cross their legs in movies all the time. But there was something extra deliberate about this particular leg cross. It was almost as if Kitty/Vivian was trying to say to the world, Hey, look at me. I'm crossing my legs. I'm crossing my legs. Which, I'll admit, was totally justified, as it's a pretty awesome leg cross.
 

 

Fighting with Sister Cindy, who wants her to kill Tinam, and doing battle with Princess (a former student of Sister Cindy), who wants to fuck her, it's clear that Kitty is in one sticky pickle of a situation. And, not to mention, she has to contend with the jealous glares emanating from Baby (Madoka Sugawara), Princess' adorable apprentice. How adorable is Baby, you ask? Well, she wears pink stockings over black pantyhose at one point. Wow, you're right. That is adorable.
 

 

Blending high octane Hong Kong-style action with eroticism, Naked Killer should technically be the blueprint for every movie in existence. That's not to say that the film is perfect. Take for instance, the club scene. Look, I love early '90s rave culture as much as the next guy, but even I was slightly embarrassed by the scene where Kitty and Sister Cindy go to a nightclub to kill a Japanese gangster (the whole thing is too cheesy for words). But other than that, the film's sexy babes in nylons to chaotic shootouts ratio was surprisingly well-balanced. And I don't think I have to mention how impressed I was by the amount of gloves seen throughout this movie.
 

 

You can tell a lot about a person by the way they describe the plot of Naked Killer. If they put an emphasis on the action, they're usually straight men between the ages of 13-105. If they seemed obsessed with the film's erotic flavour, they're usually straight men between the ages of 13-105. If they go on bizarre tangents about gloves and hosiery, they're, well, they're usually me. I give Naked Killer five taupe opera gloves out of five.

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