search.noResults

search.searching

dataCollection.invalidEmail
note.createNoteMessage

search.noResults

search.searching

orderForm.title

orderForm.productCode
orderForm.description
orderForm.quantity
orderForm.itemPrice
orderForm.price
orderForm.totalPrice
orderForm.deliveryDetails.billingAddress
orderForm.deliveryDetails.deliveryAddress
orderForm.noItems
THE BOOTH Buusu


2006, Tartan Video, DD-5.1 & 2.0/16:9/LB/ST/+, $14.95, 74m 15s, DVD-1 By David Kalat


Like the taut film noir thrill- ers of RKO Radio Pictures in the 1940s, Yoshihiro Nakamura’s tough little no-budget picture of modest aims and limited scope reaps the full reward of its self- imposed claustrophobia. Pretty- boy Ryuta Sato plays radio DJ Shingo Katsumata, host of the late night call-in program “To- kyo Love Connection” (al- though he says this title very clearly in English, the subtitles mysteriously rename it “Tokyo Love Lines”). Tonight’s broad- cast has an ominous mood since Shingo’s crew has been temporarily relocated to an an- tique, disused studio while their usual digs are renovated—and the place is said to be haunted by the ghost of a DJ who killed himself there years earlier. En- couraging his listeners to phone in stories of “unpardonable words,” he finds that every caller’s tale picks at his own se- cret psychological scabs, re- proaching his own misdeeds and cruel actions. Distracted by his guilty conscience, he is a poor help to his callers, who become increasingly hostile in response to his indifference. Technical difficulties add to his woes, and he lashes out in fury


Ryuta Sato hosts a radio call-in show whose subject is his own total destruction, live on-air, in THE BOOTH.


Dontcha hate it when your ex visits you at work, especially after you've killed her? Hijiri Kojima makes a killer entrance in THE BOOTH.


at his staff, who can only watch helplessly as Shingo melts down live on air.


Aside from Shingo’s various flashbacks, the story never leaves the studio, and never permits Shingo to leave his hotseat at the mic. This artistic choice creates a tension that enhances Sato’s edgy, nervous performance (the actor was anx- ious about playing such an unsympathetic role).


Nakamura cut his eyeteeth on a cycle of made-for-video rip-offs of Norio Tsuruta’s SCARY TRUE STORIES, graduat- ing in 2002 to writing duties for Hideo Nakata’s DARK WATER. His producer, Hirofumi Ogoshi, spearheaded the mid-1990s run of “toilet ghost” flicks, in- cluding 1998’s unsung gem SCHOOL MYSTERY, one of the few true J-Horror treasures still MIA on DVD. These guys know the tricks of the trade and use their knowledge to manipulate the audience masterfully here. The stakes are low, the 74m shot- on-DV feature cost little more to make than it does to take home a copy on DVD, but it’s as tight a B-picture as any being made to- day. When Nakamura pulls his one big shock sequence, the at- mosphere is already so tense that the effect is powerful—and a glorious con on the viewer. Tartan’s disc looks as good as the DV-sourced original probably can, has acceptable English and Spanish subtitle options, and is accompanied by some amiably useless bonus features. A bland 18m “making- of” piece, an 8m interview with the filmmakers from the pre- miere (yup, DTV movies get the- atrical outings in Japan), and a 2½ minute radio promotional appearance cover more than enough about a film whose pro- duction history was perfunctorily professional.


CRYPT OF TERROR: HORROR FROM SOUTH OF THE BORDER, VOL. 1


BCI, DD-2.0/ST, $24.95, DVD-1


VACATION OF TERROR Vacaciones de Terror 1988, 80m 30s


VACATION OF TERROR 2 Vacaciones de Terror 2: Cumpleanos Diabolico “VdT2: Diabolical Birthday” aka Pesadilla Sangrienta “Bloody Nightmare” 1989, 85m 10s


HELL’S TRAP Trampa Infernal 1990, 76m


CEMETERY OF TERROR Cementerio del Terror 1985, 91m 3s


GRAVE ROBBERS Ladrones de Tumbas 1989, 78m 5s


THE DEMON RAT La Rata Maldita aka Mutantes del ano 2000 “Mutants of the Year 2000” 1991, 95m 6s


DON’T PANIC Dimensiones Ocultas “Occult Dimensions” aka SATAN’S BLOOD 1987, 86m/89m 23s By Shane M. Dallmann


American patrons of ethnic video stores have long been en- ticed by oversized tape boxes and garish, colorful cover art trumpet- ing grisly Mexican goods that promise to rival their US coun- terparts in their depictions of possessed dolls, avenging zom- bies and various and sundry forms of supernatural comeup- pance. On occasion, adventur- ous souls lacking fluency in the


47

Page 1  |  Page 2  |  Page 3  |  Page 4  |  Page 5  |  Page 6  |  Page 7  |  Page 8  |  Page 9  |  Page 10  |  Page 11  |  Page 12  |  Page 13  |  Page 14  |  Page 15  |  Page 16  |  Page 17  |  Page 18  |  Page 19  |  Page 20  |  Page 21  |  Page 22  |  Page 23  |  Page 24  |  Page 25  |  Page 26  |  Page 27  |  Page 28  |  Page 29  |  Page 30  |  Page 31  |  Page 32  |  Page 33  |  Page 34  |  Page 35  |  Page 36  |  Page 37  |  Page 38  |  Page 39  |  Page 40  |  Page 41  |  Page 42  |  Page 43  |  Page 44  |  Page 45  |  Page 46  |  Page 47  |  Page 48  |  Page 49  |  Page 50  |  Page 51  |  Page 52  |  Page 53  |  Page 54  |  Page 55  |  Page 56  |  Page 57  |  Page 58  |  Page 59  |  Page 60  |  Page 61  |  Page 62  |  Page 63  |  Page 64  |  Page 65  |  Page 66  |  Page 67  |  Page 68  |  Page 69  |  Page 70  |  Page 71  |  Page 72  |  Page 73  |  Page 74  |  Page 75  |  Page 76  |  Page 77  |  Page 78  |  Page 79  |  Page 80  |  Page 81  |  Page 82  |  Page 83  |  Page 84