Calamity (1976)

I have always meant to try my hand at sculpting.  I still might.  The closest I ever came would likely have been either assembling monster models as a kid or painting tiny Dungeons and Dragons miniatures with a toothpick (a paintbrush just seemed too unwieldy for my chubby, little fingers), and, yes, I know that neither of these comes even close to the orbit of actual sculpture.  I think I would like to try doing mini-maquettes or mini-busts of different characters or maybe just full-size busts.  Stuff like the Creature from the Black Lagoon or the Hulk or something.  Stuff that’s in my wheelhouse.  None of that enigmatic modern art sculpture for me (maybe if I’m feeling lazy).  There will be growing pains, to be sure.  After all, I have zero experience sculpting anything, unless you count using Play Doh, but that was some time ago and nothing to write home about.  Time would also be a huge factor, since I don’t have enough of it to do the things I like to do now (like sleep, eat, and so forth, and you should see the hoops that have to be jumped through to get these reviews done on the regular), but I’m sure there are those who would also say that the time should be made for it (like time is a sheet cake or something).  I think I would likely stick to clay, as sculpting in mediums like stone or wood is (A) less forgiving/fixable, and (B) I would be less likely to inflict grievous bodily injury to myself with chisels, etcetera.  Who knows?  Maybe I’ll sculpt the most perfect statue of General Guan Yu, like Uncle Chao (Yu-Hsin Chen) does in Hung Min Chen’s Calamity (aka Zhan Shen aka War God aka Kuan Yu Battles with the Aliens), and it will come to life and defend the Earth.  But in all likelihood, I’ll just wind up throwing out stuff I think turned out like crap.

Martians land in Hong Kong and give humanity an ultimatum: Die on your feet or live on your knees.  No human steps up, so Uncle Chao’s statue takes matters into his own hands.

Calamity is a film whose existence was ineluctable.  By that same token, that it exists at all is nothing short of miraculous.  Considering the levels of insanity to which the Japanese Tokusatsu genre climbed by this point (and, it can be argued, all of Japanese genre cinema), it was only a question of time before someone came up with this idea of giant gods battling Brobdingnagian Martians (and very well may have much earlier than this).  This is the sort of film where “space scientists” work in science fiction labs and call themselves “space scientists.”  Where Martians come in trios like the Three Stooges.  Where nothing is impossible, including Guan Yu inhabiting a wooden statue and becoming a real god, like Pinocchio (or Jet Jaguar, take your pick), because nothing in this world is improbable.  For example, Chao-Chun (Ming Lun Ku) creates a laser/heat gun that can melt steel, but no one ever thinks to use it on the aliens (or if they did, they either dismissed this idea straightaway or I just missed it).  Yes, this is a world of fantastic imagination, but it’s more like the cover version of a Tokusatsu film than one in its own right.  Is it in the realm of reason to criticize Calamity for this photocopy quality when so many of its Japanese counterparts do the exact same thing?  I would suggest yes, because those Japanese fantasy films of the Moiré Pattern Effect variety are just as bland and characterless.  What’s good for the goose…

The film also deals with science versus religion.  Uncle Chao believes with all his heart (bolstered by the imaginary, remembered voice he hears from the photo of his dead wife) that Guan Yu will possess his statue if the god deems it perfect.  Bear in mind, this is before the Martians land, so one has to wonder what Uncle Chao’s end game is prior to the invasion?  Maybe he feels that too many people have turned away from the gods, like his son Chao-Chun.  Maybe he’s just fulfilling the promise he made to his wife, and that’s all.  Either way, it’s science-minded Chao-Chun who is forced to accept a deity into his mode of thinking.  Chao-Chun even says, “There is no power of god in the world,” so you can see the lines of demarcation drawn clearly (sort of).  Likewise, the Martians belong to the realm of science or, to be more precise, science fiction.  They are technology and machinery incarnate.  They even have electronic BEM eyes that light up.  Guan Yu must teach them the lesson that gods are no laughing matter (take that how you will in this context).  

By that same token, this conflict reflects the struggle between traditionalism and modernity.  Uncle Chao carves wooden statues using nothing but his chisels, his hands, and some elbow grease (by the way, he is functionally blind with Glaucoma, making his efforts even more preternatural).  He knows that there is value in taking the time to do things by hand and do them right.  Apparently, his whole life has been a progression toward the perfection of his craft, a quasi-Nirvana.  Chao-Chun uses scientific tools, largely automated, and he even adds in the science fiction go-to of radiation (in another experiment [this one involving bees] which goes nowhere).  He laments the hard path scientists have to trod (“If everyone was like you, we’d still be primitive”), because it has to be worth it.  According to this film, however, not so much.  Guan Yu is, naturally, the most traditional of traditional symbols, and the Martians the ultimate symbol of contemporary man (even though they’re not human).  They, like Chao-Chun, have a hard time grasping how tradition can be so powerful when it’s so archaic.  And this is why they fail or are useless to the film’s narrative, such as it is.

It’s not unfair to ask how the special effects in a special effects film fare.  So, how do they fare in Calamity?  Sadly, not so well.  Aside from a handful of decent matte shots, they’re pretty threadbare across the board.  The miniatures are as simplistic and undetailed as it’s possible to be.  The Martians look bad (in an Irwin Allen television show sort of way, but cheaper), especially when compared to the rather ornate Guan Yu costume.  But these things could be forgiven if the action worked or if the story had some interesting ideas or tension or characters.  But it doesn’t.  The Guan Yu versus aliens scenes are essentially the same moves repeated ad nauseum.  Further, the human characters contribute nothing (the exception, of course, being Uncle Chao).  There is even a hellion biker girl character who has nothing to do other than ride through tunnels and dance to Carl Douglas’ “Kung Fu Fighting” (I’m almost positive the song rights were procured for its use here), and that’s just wasteful.  The most calamitous thing about Calamity is that it’s entirely constructed of window dressings without the windows.  The filmmakers knew the notes but not the tune.

MVT:  the giant monster battles, though they are repetitive to the point of lethargy.  

Make or Break:  By the middle of the final battle of the giants, you’ll just want it to be over.

Score:  6/10    

Invincible Space Streaker (1977)

I have never been skinny-dipping.  I never fully understood some people’s fascination with it, but different strokes and all that.  I have, however, streaked.  Let me set the scene for you.  I was young (I’m guessing less than ten years old), and I was taking my nightly bath.  If I remember correctly, my parents had some friends over, and my calls to my parents were going unheeded (why, I don’t recall).  For some inexplicable reason, I got it into my head that the best way to fix my parents’ wagon was to leap out of the tub and hustle my bare ass down the street.  Which I did.  At that time, we lived on 11^th Street.  I made it to 15^th Street before I was finally nabbed by a couple of my siblings.  I’m surprised I didn’t incur any injuries like slicing my foot open (even more surprising since I used to walk around barefooted a lot back then).  At any rate, I didn’t do it because of any sort of exhibitionism on my part, no desire to show off the goods, such as they were.  It was just an impulse borne of a child’s frustration (one that was repeated once more to much less fanfare a short time later).  But the boys in Chi-Lien Yu’s Invincible Space Streaker (aka Fei Tian Dun Di Jin Gang Ren) love to skinny-dip.  In fact, I could imagine these kids being perfectly at home in a Turkish bath house.  You could notch it up to simply being a cultural difference, but seeing a bunch of naked boys on film is a bit jarring to me and more than a little creepy, considering this film’s plot and despite its innocent attitude.

Dr. Mou appears from a frothing lake in his golden-helmeted, supervillain persona and quickly transforms into his human form, which comes with a snazzy black dressing gown.  He conjures up two red-shirted henchmen, one of whom I believe was supposed to be Scottish.  Why?  Why not?  Meanwhile, pre-teen Hsiao Po is almost singlehandedly losing his team’s soccer match by being the world’s worst, most distractible goalie (primarily centered on reining in his brother/cousin/something-or-other Hsiao Wen who has a penchant for pissing in public [seriously, this kid has one of the weakest and/or smallest bladders in the world]).  Post-game, the boys frolic in the aforementioned skinny-dipping hole, where Dr. Mou finds them and lures them to his secret lair with the promise of turning them into superheroes (but actually just turns them into monkeys, pigs, and more henchmen).  Nevertheless, the joke’s on Mou, because he does actually manage to change Po into his nemesis, the titular Streaker.  Fights and things ensue.

In the grand tradition of the Japanese Tokusatsu genre and the insanity of films like The Super Inframan, Invincible Space Streaker is aimed squarely at children and their desire to see shit blow up and monsters fight each other (who doesn’t?).  This, then, is why the film focuses so strongly on a threat from a child predator.  Dr. Mou is absolutely shudder-inducing in the way he entices these kids.  He’s the Pied Piper, but instead of a flute, he uses a poster of a superhero to lead the kids into danger.  Of course, there’s no actual sexual molestation involved (but, man, is it heavily suggested as a strong possibility), and I do believe that the filmmakers approached the story earnestly (plus, I’m sure there are culture gaps shading my impressions).  Instead, the children are tortured and transformed into animals.  The children all get along with each other, more or less.  It’s adults who are threats and/or just incompetent (including, but not limited to, Mrs. Lin, the school teacher who barely keeps track of her wards and gets a slingshot to the ass for her trouble [don’t worry, she returns the favor]).  In films like this, children are front and center, and what’s more worrisome to children than adults who intend them harm or can’t properly protect them?  

Naturally, since the kids are the focal point of the story, they are the ones who are empowered in this world.  Even while in the clutches of Dr. Mou, the children do just about as they please.  Wen even gets to take a whiz over Mou’s shoulder due to a breakdown in communication (a classic metaphor for the disparity between the ways adults and children view the world as well as another excuse to have a kid flash his bird at the camera).  The Space Streaker (I don’t recall if they ever call him anything other than “superman” in the film, and he never makes it into space, anyway) is the ultimate encapsulation of child empowerment.  That the superhero in this movie is actually a child is interesting, unlike in other shows and films of this ilk where they’re teens or young adults.  In costume, the Streaker is actually the height of a young boy (though for the more dangerous/experience-required stunts, he’s played quite obviously by an adult).  His costume most resembles one of the famous Kamen Rider characters from Japan, just much, much cheaper and less colorful.  Many a young boy dreams of being a superhero, and in this film, Po gets his wish without being matured into adulthood.  In this way, it’s somehow more satisfying from the perspective of youth, because the superhero is still a kid.  In other words, you don’t have to be a grownup to be powerful.

Why, then, is this film so incredibly dull?  Well, several reasons.  First and foremost is the fact that, even for all of the lunacy packed into this thing, it’s still extraordinarily incoherent.  Even if you view the film as a childhood fantasy/nightmare, it just makes no sense.  None of this is assisted in any way by the camerawork and editing.  The shots are always uncomfortably close to characters, jittery, and cut together like they were just thrown into a blender.  It’s what was once dubbed “MTV style” before MTV.  I’m a fan of camera zooms, something for which Asian cinema is known (and sometimes ridiculed). Nevertheless, not only are there simply way too many of them in Invincible Space Streaker (if you made a drinking game out of their frequency, you would be obliterated within five minutes), but they’re also almost completely unmotivated.  They’re zooms for the sake of zooms, and they make an already bizarre film into a muddled one.  Most egregious of all, the action scenes, the one thing we hope will actually gratify in a film like this, are boring.  They are one note repeated constantly, and like everything else in the movie, they leave the viewer scratching his head rather than grinning.  All things considered, I suppose that the final (recycled) shot of the boys skinny-dipping with the title “Thank you for coming” rather than “The End” just about says it all.

MVT:  The costumes are fun in a goofy, threadbare way (including a wolfman who looks like an escapee from a grade school production of Little Red Riding Hood), but they’re underutilized to the point of frustration.

Make or Break:  The opening soccer game outlines the tenor of the film, for better or worse.  Mostly worse.

Score:  4/10