Crime and Extreme Punishment

This week we’re delving into the early seventies underground to expose the controversial anti-establishment classic, Punishment Park.
Shown through the lenses of a fictitious British documentary crew, Punishment Park is set in a weird alternate reality seventies where the Nixon administration is taking protestors and draft dodgers off the street and offering them the choice between prison and running a hellish race across the desert in an attempt to earn their freedom.
The film skips between one group of prisoners running the race and another group facing the tribunal before sentencing. Instantly hitting you with a sense of powerlessness and oppression, anyone who has ever felt paranoid about what the government may be capable of should not watch this. The documentary style lends a gritty edge to the piece and the speeches given by the group standing trial are actually rather stirring, especially when they are confronted by the moronic middle class sensibilities of their persecutors.
Admittedly there is a certain lack of character development; each runner/prisoner is massive counter cultural cliché. You’ve got the political singer songwriter, the Ginberg-esque poet, the Black Panther, the feminist and the militant anarchists. I would say the police don’t fare much better, but given the political nature of this movie its fare to assume they were meant to be portrayed as mindless, jack-booted fascists.
The real bravery of this film was its timing. Made and released only a year after the Kent state shootings, in which a number of anti-war demonstrators were mercilessly gunned down by police, director Peter Watkins wasn’t pulling any punches. He accosts the establishment in a way that would be considered controversial even now, and does so with a kind of integrity that can be very rare.
In terms of movies from the counter culture this is better than Easy Rider, it’s just a shame it’s not required viewing.

Enter the Zombie

This week we take our first (of many) journeys into the murky underworld of Japanese cinema, specifically the ultra-kinetic mind-fuck that is Versus. The plot focuses on a nameless prison escapee who finds himself in an extremely sinister forest and having to rescue a young woman from a gang of yakuza mobsters. Oh, and zombies; lots and lots of zombies.
This is, off course, without consequence as the main aim of the film is string together a series of ultra-violent set pieces which assault your retina at cartoonish speed. The combination of gun fights and martial arts is nicely done with some extremely inventive choreography. Hell, I know I’m supposed to become more sophisticated as I get older, but if I ever get bored of seeing a guy shoot a zombie in the face and then karate kick his head clean off I’ll feel I’ve lost something in my life. There is a level of action here that you’re usually more likely to find in an anime, heavily stylised but undeniably fun. The actors are all smart enough to not take this movie even remotely seriously and have their tongues firmly in cheeks. The Yakuza in particular are so camp they make Eddie Izzard look like a rugby player.
Now admittedly there a few flaws with this kung-fu zombie epic. For example the whole thing looks like it was made on a budget of five pounds in conveniently located woods. Also despite the high quantity of zombies, the quality does suffer. Most of them look like they’ve just been slapped in the face with a bag of pancake mix and then been given ketchup to drink.
Regardless of a few little disappointments this new cult classic delivers on a number of levels. For one thing the pace is ludicrous, aided along by a soundtrack of pounding techno the action and gore doesn’t let up for a single second. Speaking of gore this film is up to its neck in. Seriously, the claret flows so free and so red you’d think you were at some kind of epileptic wine tasting. To sum up, this film takes all the best bits from Zatoichi, Highlander, The Matrix and Dawn of the Dead, feeds them some go-faster pills and sets it loose. A must see for the discerning gore-hound.