Ebola Syndrome (Herman Yau, 1996)

Bloodied and battered, a haggard-looking, pee-stained Anthony Wong stands over his victims in triumph. Shortly after removing the tongue of his lover with a pair of scissors, Anthony Wong turns his attention to his lover's young daughter (who's hiding in a nearby closet). Interrupted just as he was about to set her on fire, Anthony Wong decides to take off, leaving the little girl covered in gasoline. If you're wondering who this Ebola stricken psychopath is going to kill next, do yourself a favour and stop... wondering about that. Are you sitting down? He doesn't have the Ebola virus. Well, not yet at least. But that's just the thing, if this is how Anthony Wong behaves when he doesn't have the Ebola virus, imagine what he's going to do when he does. Trust me, it's not going to be pretty. Oh, and I know for a fact that he's going to contract the Ebola virus. You wanna know why? It's simple, really, he's the star of Herman Yau's wonderfully vile Ebola Syndrome, yet another Category III sex and gore extravaganza that manages to make all other attempts at "cinema" seem totally lame by comparison.

If Anthony Wong didn't contract the Ebola virus in this movie, I would have (Yeah, yeah, you would have thrown a major hissy-fit.) You're goddamn right I would have thrown a major hissy-fit.

That being said, Ebola or no Ebola, Anthony Wong's Kai is someone you don't want to have on your bad side. On the surface, he might seem like a harmless goofball with a soft spot for shapely whores. But the second you hand him, oh, let's say, a pair of scissors, he's going to use them in a manner they weren't intended.

Seriously, though, don't ever hand Anthony Wong a pair of scissors. Now, I would love to tell Shing Fui-On (The Blue Jean Monster) this, but I'm afraid I can't, as Anthony Wong just killed him using the legs of a mahjong table. As the legs of the mahjong table began to crush his larynx, he probably thought to himself: Why, oh, why did I hand Anthony Wong those motherflippin' scissors?

You see, Anthony Wong is having an affair with Shing Fui-On's wife (Tsang Yin). And when Shing Fui-On (who is Anthony Wong's boss) and a friend catch them in the act, Shing threatens to cut off his penis. A blubbering Wong pleads with Fui-On on the behalf of his still attached penis. When that fails, Anthony asks if he can cut off his penis. This request clearly confused Fui-On, because he proceeds to hand over the scissors. I don't think I need to tell you what happens next.

Leaving Shing Fui-On's young daughter crying and covered in gasoline in her parent's Hong Kong apartment (in the mid-1980s), we jump forward ten years to find Kai working at a Chinese restaurant in Johannesburg, South Africa.

Hired by the owners, Kei (Lo Meng) and his wife (Cheung Lau), as a waiter (a low paid one at that), they obviously never saw Herman Yau and Anthony Wong's previous collaboration, The Untold Story. If they had, there's no way they would have hired him. But then again, it's implied that Kei and his wife know about Kai's murderous past in Hong Kong. Meaning, they shouldn't act surprised if they suddenly find their genitals on the menu.

I am surprised, however, that the Association of Chinese Restaurants didn't try to have The Untold Story and Ebola Syndrome banned, as they both manage to tarnish the Chinese dining experience.

Anyway, remember that little girl that Kai left covered in gasoline back in the '80s? Well, she's a flight attendant now. And guess where her next flight is headed? That's right, Johannesburg, South Africa.

The second the flight attendant enters the restaurant Kai works, she starts to feel sick. She can't quite put her finger on it, but something about this place causes her relive the day a crazed man killed her father with a mahjong table and cut off her mother's tongue with a pair of scissors. Though, it's obvious that she doesn't remember what Kai looked like, as she just asked him to direct her to the restaurant's washroom.

Even though she goes back to her hotel room, the flight attendant knows something sinister is afoot (she has nightmares about the place). Meanwhile, Kai is horny. After his attempt to pick up a prostitute ends in failure (Kai: "Fifty for a fondling?" Prostitute: "I only fuck white dudes... no yellow trash."), Kai masturbates into a hunk of pork (he uses a knife to create a makeshift vagina) while listening Kei have sex with his wife.

As expected, Kai puts the jizz-laden pork back in the fridge and serves it to customers the very next day. Oh, Kai, you're the most unpleasant character in film history.

Since the the local butcher shop refuses to give Kei a fair deal on pork, he and Kai drive into the bush to buy a pig from a nearby tribe of cannibals. Despite the fact the tribe's camp is littered with lesion-covered corpses, Kei and Kai buy a pig. On the way back, they experience some car trouble. While Kei works on the engine, Kai wanders off.

Noticing a woman collapse by a river, Kai approaches her. You won't believe what happens next. Oh, you do know what happens next. Well, aren't we demented today. Yep, Kai licks his hand and penetrates the unconscious woman with his penis.

Holy crap, how many orgasm faces is Anthony Wong going to make in this movie? I mean, he's already made three. Whatever, the unconscious woman starts to convulse and spits a milky substance in Kai's face.

To the surprise of no-one, Kai develops a fever. While out of commission, Kei and his wife argue about what to do with him. As they're doing this, Kai wakes up and kills them both; a third employee is killed after he starts snooping around.

If Kai didn't have Ebola, do you think he would have murdered them? It's hard to say. What's not hard to say is, Kai is a scumbag.

Chopping up Kei, his wife and the nameless employee, Kai turns them into "African pork buns" and serves them at the restaurant the very next day. Yum. And in doing so, gives everyone Ebola. Pretty soon people are collapsing and twitching all over Johannesburg.

Finding Kei's hidden stash of cash, Kai decides to go back to Hong Kong to cause more havoc. An Ebola carrier (he has the disease, but doesn't display the symptoms), Kai has no qualms whatsoever about spreading the virus. Did I mention he's a scumbag?

While living it up in the penthouse suite of a fancy hotel, Kai gets a hankering for some whores.

When room service fails to deliver him the whores he desires, Kai goes elsewhere for his whore-related needs.

Oh. My. God. Check out the whore in the tight red dress. Her shape is sublime. I'm guessing the "actress" who plays the thick whore in the tight red dress is Lori Shannon, as she's the only cast member who looks like a "Lori Shannon," if you get my drift.

When the prostitutes develop Ebola symptoms, the local authorities begin to search the city for the person responsible for knocking one of Hong Kong's shapeliest whores out of commission. But they shouldn't bother looking for Kai at that fancy hotel, as he has since moved in with old flame.

I don't know what's more disgusting, the South African autopsy scene or the sequence where Kai spreads the virus willy-nilly (the scene at the ice cream store is beyond gross). I'm gonna go with the latter. I know, it doesn't sound all that nasty on paper, but I nearly lost it when the band-aid on the finger of the ice cream store waitress comes loose while touching a spoon that had been in Kai's mouth.

One of the last Cat III movies to be made before the handover (all Hong Kong films made after 1997, if they want to play on Mainland, need to be approved by Chinese censors), Ebola Syndrome is distasteful, loathsome, hateful, nauseating, and sickening. In other words, it's one of the best Cat III movies ever made.

Friday the 13th Part III (Steve Miner, 1982)

Just a second, I want to listen to the theme song from this movie one more time before I begin. And... done. As usual, I was in a foul mood before I sat down to watch Friday the 13th Part III, the third film in the inexplicably popular horror franchise about a... well, you know what. And the opening scene, an extended recap detailing the events that occurred at the end of Part II, did nothing but exacerbate the foul nature of my mood (the most annoying thing about watching the Friday the 13th movies in reverse is the recap scenes pretty much ruin the endings of the previous chapters). Mildly irritated over the fact that yet another ending of a Friday the 13th was spoiled, I tried to put on a brave face as I prepared myself for the mediocrity that was surely to follow. To my surprise, however, this one unleashes the disco-tinged awesomeness that is this movies' theme music. Playing over the opening and closing credits (it's also heard briefly during the grocery store scene), the theme, by composer Harry Manfredini, managed to lift my spirits.

I know, you're thinking to yourself: Sure, the music that bookends the film is great and all, but there's still ninety-something minutes of "movie" to endure. In other words, I don't care how amazing the film's theme is, you're still going to have wade through what looks like a pretty formulaic teens in peril slasher movie.

You might be right, it does look like a "formulaic teens in peril slasher movie." But let's get one thing straight: There's nothing formulaic, or teenage, for that matter, about Cheri Maugans' knees.

(Most people when talking about Friday the 13th Part III will usually mention the fact this is the film where Jason Voorhees first dons his famous hockey mask, or the fact that this chapter is in 3-D before they inevitably start talking about Cheri Maugans' knees, but you played the Cheri Maugans knee card right away.)

First of all, I didn't play the Cheri Maugans knee card right away. As you can clearly see, I talked about the dangers of watching the Friday the 13th movies in reverse and Harry Manfredini's theme music before I breathed a perverted breath about Cheri Maugans' knees.

And secondly, who in their right mind wouldn't talk about Cheri Maugans' knees before all that other junk? Unless, of course, you have an aversion to sexy babes with agreeable knees. And judging by the cut of most of your jibs, I'd say you're totally down with the trajectory this review is currently taking.

Don't worry, I'll get to the foursome of slinky brunettes who vie for our attention during the bulk of this film's running time. I just want to bask in the sonic bouquet that is Harry Manfredini's theme music and revel in the irregular attractiveness that is Cheri Maugans a little while longer before I'm dragged–no doubt kicking and screaming–back into the ho-hum realm that is this uninspired franchise.

Since the aforementioned slinky brunettes and their male companions can't be killed by Jason right away, the film introduces what I like to call "bit part machete fodder." Characters, usually non-teens, who are introduced merely to be murdered in order to keep the audience's bloodlust satisfied until the second act mayhem gets underway.

Most of the time, the machete fodder aren't that interesting as far as characters goes. But sometimes the bit part machete fodder can surprise us. And that's exactly what Cheri Maugans does as "Edna," a woman who runs a market with her husband Harold (Steve Susskind). Now, the average Friday the 13th fan will take one look at Edna and think: "What a hosebeast." Not me, I saw Edna as a forthright go-getter with, yes, terrific gams.

Constantly nagging her husband to be less of a fuck up, Edna hurls a barrage of emasculating put-downs at him while bringing in the laundry (she can multitask like nobody's business). It's at around this time that Edna learns about the slaughter that took place nearby in the previous film on the news. Even though she's disturbed by what she hears, that doesn't stop her from berating Harold, who she finds trying to find solace with a bunny rabbit in the snack cake aisle.

The cool thing about the demise of Edna and Harold is that they're stalked and killed by a mask-less Jason; no hood either.

It's true, I was sad to see Edna go, but she served her purpose. If I ever do a Top 10 Friday the 13th Hotties list, I won't forget you Edna.

Arriving right on time, a van filled with slinky brunettes and their male companions appears onscreen. But wait, I thought there were four slinky brunettes, I only see three. What gives? Never mind, they're picking up the fourth slinky brunette at her house as we speak.

Don't get me wrong, I love slinky brunettes. But don't you think having four onscreen at the same time will confuse the audience? You would think that having one of the slinky brunettes, Vera Sanchez (Catherine Parks), be Latino would help alleviate some of the confusion. But it doesn't, as she's not that Latino, if you know what I mean. No, we're pretty much stuck with four dark-haired white chicks with indistinguishable personalities. *sigh*

It would seem that SCTV's parody of 3-D wasn't that far off in terms of accuracy, as Chili (Rachel Howard), the stoner brunette, just shoved a lit joint toward the camera, giving us our first taste of 3-D. Other items shoved in our faces over the course of the film include: Yo-yo's, eyeballs, spears, pitchforks and blood.

Okay, let's see, so far I've mentioned Vera, the Latino brunette, and Chili, the stoner brunette, who am I forgetting?  All right, so, there's Chris Higgins (Dana Kimmell) and Debbie (Tracie Savage). Now, how should I sum up their characters? Well, Debbie's easy, she's obviously the blue bikini brunette, as she famously dons a blue bikini shortly after the teen arrive at "Higgins Haven." But what about Chris? How 'bout, the brunette brunette? Nah. The buzzkill brunette? That's a bit better. The axe-wielding brunette?

How do you denote someone a brunette-themed nickname based on their appearance or persona when they don't give you anything to work with?

Anyway, when we notice that Shelly (Larry Zerner), the group's resident prankster, has brought along with him a bag filled with horror props, we can't help but wonder if he has an old-timey hockey goalie mask tucked away somewhere in there. But before we can find out, Shelly and Vera must contend with a trio of unruly bikers. And just like Edna and Harold, the bikers, Ali (Nick Savage), Fox (Gloria Charles) and Loco (Kevin O'Brien), are nothing but bit part machete fodder. Though, at least they're somewhat interesting to look at; except for Debbie's blue bikini, none of the teens bring anything to the table in terms of fashion.

When Jason (Richard Brooker) finally does get around to targeting the film's leads, I had lost all interest in finding out who will live and who will die. And the prospect of watching one ratings board neutered kill after another wasn't that appealing either. The only things make Friday the 13th Part III worth watching are Cheri Maugans as Edna (putting rollers in her hair and having her wear a ratty-looking housecoat can't undermine her innate sex appeal), the film's theme song, and the 3-D spear-gun kill (a definite candidate for the best kill of the entire series).

The Untold Story (Herman Yau, 1993)

It's official, Anthony Wong is my new favourite actor. Sure, I've only seen him in Herman Yau's The Untold Story (the film I'm currently writing about), and Herman Yau's Taxi Hunter, but based on the sheer intensity he displays in both these movies, I think I can safely declare that he in fact rules. Now, a lot of you are probably wondering why I didn't open with a bit about the insane amount of leggy floozies that appear in this film, or why I didn't open with a snarky remark about Parkman Wong Pak-Man's San Antonio Spurs baseball hat. First of all, I don't make snarky remarks. In fact, my remarks are, for the most part, completely snark-free. And secondly, why would a gruesome tale about a psychotic restaurant owner who murders men, women and children, chops up their bodies into tiny little pieces and then serves them to his customers have leggy floozies? I'm just messing with you, this film is filled with leggy floozies. And I don't feel guilty at all for calling them leggy floozies. They're leggy, they're floozies and they're ready to party.
 

  
All kidding aside, the inclusion of so many leggy floozies just goes to show why I consider pre-handover Hong Kong cinema to be superior to all other types of cinema. Filled with bizarre shifts in tone, kooky subplots, chopstick rape, unaware cannibalism, highly inappropriate humour and grisly violence (the kind that would make Lucio Fulci stop and say, "Mamma Mia, dat iz, uh, how you say? some really fucked up shit), The Untold Story was able to earn the fullness of my attention with a breathtaking ease.
  

  
I've noticed that my interest in films has been gradually waning over the past few months. Itching for most films to hurry up and finish already, I've been wading through  a lot of dreck that's not even worth reviewing. Some of you might be thinking to yourself: Aren't the majority of the films you review not worth reviewing? Ah, just because a film is awful, doesn't mean it's not worth reviewing. No, the film's I'm talking about are neither good or bad, they're just plain bland.
  

  
Well, long story short, The Untold Story managed to briefly rekindle my love of cinema, as, like I said earlier, it contains everything I like. Of course, I don't mean to imply that I "like" watching little kids brutally murdered with a meat clever. What I think I meant to say is, I like it when movies aren't afraid to show the gory unpleasantness of close quarter child homicide. Yet, as much as I appreciate arterial spray, even I had to wonder if showing a crying five year-old spew neck blood all over his assailant's face was a little too much.
  

  
(Hey, enough about dead children...) Aw, man, some of the kids are doing cadaveric spasms. (What did I just say? Let's get back to discussing what's important, and that is the pantyhose-adorned plethora of leggy floozies Danny Lee hooks up with in this movie.)
  

  
Okay, I'll do that. But first, I'd like to inquire as to why Bo (Emily Kwan), a desperate to please female lady cop who works for the Macau police department, is dressed in army fatigues. I think I just answered my inquiry when I described Bo as "desperate to please." In other words, I think the reason Bo dresses the way she does is because she wants to be taken seriously as a female lady cop.
  

  
You could also say the reason Bo wears men's clothes is because if she didn't, her male co-workers would be hitting on her around the clock.
  

  
Don't believe me? Just ask the armada of leggy floozies who accompany Danny Lee's Officer Lee to the office, as they're inundated with untoward advances. Except, they're not really "untoward advances," are they? Leggy floozies want you to hit on them, it's what they're there for.
  

  
Anyway, Danny Lee's Officer Lee doesn't just bring leggy floozies to the office, he brings them to crime scenes too.
  

  
After some kids discover a bag of severed human limbs washed up on a beach, a group of detectives, the aforementioned Bo (who is wearing, like I said, army fatigues), Robert (Eric Kei Ka-Fat), King Kong (Lam King-Kong) and Bull (Parkman Wong Pak-Man), get in an argument over who's going remove the severed limbs from the beach.
 

  
As their argument is about to come to blows, Danny Lee's Officer Lee shows up, with a leggy floozie in yellow hot pants on his arm, and gets the investigative ball rolling by ordering them to take the body parts back to the lab.
  

  
Meanwhile, at a nearby restaurant, the establishment's new owner, Wong Chi-Hang (Anthony Wong), is cutting up a pig with a meat clever. Hmmm, I wonder if he's connected to the body parts from the beach? What am I saying? Of course he's connected.
  

  
Identifying the people who used to be attached to the severed limbs is proving difficult for the detectives (the limbs are rotten).
  

  
Even if they could get usable fingerprints from the severed hand, it would be impossible for the detectives to concentrate on their work. (Don't tell me, Danny Lee's Officer Lee has brought another leggy floozy to the office?) That's right, he has. And get this, she's a white chick. (All right, it's official, Danny Lee's Officer Lee is a pimp.)
  

  
Noticing that Robert, Bull and King Kong are salivating over the leggy floozy's large tits, Bo starts to feel self-conscious about her lack heft in the bra department.
  

  
Perfectly encapsulating the film's twisted sense of humour, one of the male detectives tells Bo that even if the leggy floozy currently skanking up a storm in the office got breast cancer and had to have half her tits surgically removed, Bo's tiny boobs would still be inferior to that of the mammarily reduced leggy floozy.
  

 
Getting nowhere fast, Bo gets an idea. No, this idea has nothing with tracking down a lead, she gets an idea after watching Danny Lee's Officer Lee leave the office with yet another leggy floozy, a slinky whore in a floral-style mini-dress.
  

  
While Bo is busy noodling with her idea, Wong Chi-Hang is cutting up another pig. Wait, that's not a pig, that's the cook he just hired. After the new cook accuses him of cheating at mahjong, Wong Chi-Hang decides to kill him. However, instead of dumping his body in the ocean (like a normal person), Wong Chi-Hang uses the cook's body to make cha siu bao (buns filled with barbecue-flavoured cha siu pork). Except instead of being filled with barbecue-flavoured cha siu pork, they're filled with barbecue-flavoured cha siu people.
  

  
Seriously, Danny Lee's Officer Lee should really think about leaving the leggy floozies at home. I mean, how is anyone supposed to get any work done? Hold up, that's no leggy floozy, that's Bo!!!
  

  
Wearing a tight mini-dress (covered in a black and purple diamond pattern), Bo wields her black nylon-adorned gams like a pair of shapely batons. Beating the men over the head with said gams (metaphorically, of course), Bo seems to be enjoying her new-found status as a leggy floozy.
  

  
Her enjoyment, however, is short-lived when the detectives get a break in the case. It would seem that the family that used to own Wong Chi-Hang's restaurant have relatives on the mainland. And these relatives are constantly sending letters to Macau inquiring about their whereabouts. Well, this leads the detectives to Wong Chi-Hang's restaurant.
  

  
Told to stop being a leggy floozy, Bo and her co-workers head over to have a "chat" with Wong Chi-Hang.

  
You would think that Danny Lee's Officer Lee would have put a moratorium on parading leggy floozies through the office–you know, since they're this close to catching a serial killer. But no, Danny Lee's Officer Lee brings another leggy floozy to work. Not counting Bo's brief stint as a leggy floozy, he brings a total of four leggy floozies to the workplace.
  

  
Fake bemoaning aside, it's a good thing the film had leggy floozies. Think about it, imagine if it didn't. That's right, if it didn't, we'd be talking about one of the sickest movies of all-time. Don't get me wrong, the film is still sick. It's just that the leggy floozies, and a couple of other factors, managed to mollify some of the film's more grisly aspects.
  

  
Of course, there's no way to mollify the scene where Wong Chi-Hang murders five small children. This sequence has to be the most heinous act ever to be captured on film. I don't know what it is about the Hong Kong sensibility that allows such barbarism to be shown, but there's nothing I think of that comes to topping the gruesomeness of the child murder scene in The Untold Story. I feel bad about ending this on such a dour note, but the last thirty minutes are brutal. Let me put it this way, it makes Red to Kill and Run and Kill look like walks in the motherhumpin' park compared to this.