Noriko's Dinner Table (5 Stars)

If "Suicide Club" was Sion Sono's cinematic hand grenade, "Noriko's Dinner Table" is the slow poison that lingers in your bloodstream long after the explosion. Marketed as a companion piece rather than a straightforward sequel, it revisits the same world from an entirely different angle. Forget the infamous opening train massacre and the barrage of shocking violence. This time Sono's weapon of choice is emotional devastation.

At first glance, the film appears almost restrained. Teenager Noriko (Kazue Fukiishi) runs away from her suffocating rural home after becoming obsessed with an online community, eventually falling under the spell of Kumiko, the mysterious "Ueno Station 54", played with eerie composure by Tsugumi. Kumiko operates one of Tokyo's strangest businesses: a rental family service where complete strangers are hired to become daughters, wives, husbands, parents or entire families. What sounds bizarre quickly becomes terrifying as every relationship dissolves into performance and every performance begins to feel more authentic than reality itself.

This is where "Noriko's Dinner Table" becomes even more disturbing than "Suicide Club". The earlier film shocked audiences with graphic deaths and surreal horror. Here, Sono suggests something far more frightening: that modern society has become so emotionally bankrupt that people are willing to pay complete strangers to pretend they love them. The film argues that identity itself has become a commodity, something to be bought, sold and performed until nobody remembers who they really are.

Sono's portrayal of rental families is a work of genius. Every encounter strips away another layer of authenticity until the audience is trapped in the same uncertainty as the characters. Are they acting? Have they become the roles they were hired to play? Was there ever a "real" person underneath? The film offers no comforting answers, only increasingly unsettling questions.

One of Sono's boldest decisions is his extensive use of voiceovers. Nearly every major character narrates their thoughts, revisiting the same events from conflicting perspectives. In lesser hands, this could have become repetitive or self-indulgent. Instead, it becomes hypnotic. Every new narration peels back another emotional layer, exposing guilt, loneliness, resentment and desperate longing that remain invisible on the surface. The result feels less like watching a film than listening to damaged souls desperately trying to explain themselves.

The slower pacing will undoubtedly divide audiences. Anyone expecting another frantic descent into horror like "Suicide Club" may initially wonder whether they're watching the right film. At nearly three hours, Sono deliberately allows scenes to breathe, conversations to linger and silences to become uncomfortable. Yet that patience is exactly what gives the film its crushing emotional weight. Rather than assaulting the audience with horror, it quietly suffocates them.

The links to "Suicide Club" gradually emerge like buried memories. Familiar characters return. Seemingly inexplicable events acquire heartbreaking new meaning. Instead of solving every mystery left behind by its predecessor, "Noriko's Dinner Table" reveals that the mass suicides were merely symptoms. The disease was already there: fractured families, emotional isolation and a generation that no longer knows how to distinguish genuine connection from manufactured affection.

Even the recurring references to Amaterasu, the Shinto Sun Goddess, become devastatingly appropriate. In mythology, Amaterasu hides herself away inside a cave, plunging the world into darkness until she is coaxed back into the light. Sono transforms that ancient story into a metaphor for modern alienation. His characters retreat into emotional caves of their own making, burying themselves beneath invented identities, borrowed personalities and carefully rehearsed roles. They don't simply lose each other; they lose themselves.

Where "Suicide Club" screamed its anger at a disconnected society, "Noriko's Dinner Table" whispers the same message with terrifying conviction. It abandons shock tactics in favour of psychological horror, and the result is arguably even more unsettling. The monsters aren't killers or ghosts. They're ordinary families who have forgotten how to speak to one another, teenagers who find more warmth from strangers than their own parents and adults so desperate for affection that they'll happily pay someone else to fake it.

This isn't simply one of the greatest companion films ever made. It's one of the bleakest examinations of identity, loneliness and modern Japan ever committed to cinema. "Suicide Club" leaves you stunned. "Noriko's Dinner Table" leaves you questioning every relationship in your own life. Long after the credits roll, that's the film that refuses to let go.

Suicide Club (5 Stars)

Time and time again the sky is blue,

And yet it's strange how people seem to always fall in love.

An unfamiliar yellow dog keeps grinning

As it tears us from the ones we love.

Because the dead,

Because the dead,

Because the dead shine all night long.

I want to die as beautifully as Joan of Arc

Inside a Bresson film.

Lesson one, apply the shaving cream and smile

As you slowly slice away the heart

Because the dead,

Because the dead,

Because the dead shine all night long.

Feel the warmth of the spring rain

As it gently moistens down a cheek

That's streaked with dried up tears.

A guileless boy of five years old stares blankly in the face of death

While his heart is cut and torn away.

Because the dead,

Because the dead,

Because the dead shine all night long.

Because the dead,

Because the dead,

Because the dead shine all night long.

Few films have ever announced themselves with such breath-taking audacity. "Suicide Club" opens with one of the most infamous scenes in horror history, as fifty-four smiling schoolgirls calmly join hands and throw themselves beneath an oncoming train. The resulting carnage is so extreme that it's almost surreal, immediately signalling that Sion Sono has no interest in making a conventional thriller.

As mass suicides sweep across Japan, weary detective Kuroda struggles to uncover the truth. Every lead only deepens the mystery. A bizarre website appears to predict the growing death toll, grotesque rolls of stitched human skin arrive at police stations and the relentlessly upbeat J-Pop group Dessert seems to cast an eerie shadow over every tragedy. Meanwhile, the flamboyant psychopath Genesis, played with unforgettable manic energy by Rolly, taunts the investigation while hinting that something far larger is unfolding.

Is Dessert secretly manipulating its fans through coded messages hidden in its posters and songs? Is there a suicide cult operating in the shadows? Or has modern society become so emotionally hollow that people no longer need anyone to persuade them to die? Sono deliberately refuses to provide simple answers, leaving viewers to wrestle with one haunting question: "Are you connected to yourself?"

Beneath the shocking violence lies a savage satire of celebrity culture, media obsession and the loneliness lurking beneath modern life. The unforgettable final concert by Dessert offers no comforting explanation, only the chilling suggestion that the machinery of pop culture will continue smiling long after the bodies have been cleared away.

Violent, provocative and deeply unsettling, Suicide Club remains one of the most original cult horror films of the twenty-first century. Its gruesome set pieces may grab your attention, but it's the questions it leaves behind that will haunt you long after the credits roll.

Baby Doll Strippers (3 Stars)

I read that the Blu-ray "Harlots of the Caribbean" contained an extra feature, a short film called "Strippers Inc". I had no idea what it is, but as soon as it started I recognised it as "Baby Doll Strippers" with a new name.

The film, if it can be called that, is about a strip club owner interviewing three girls who want to work for her. After the interviews she asks them to show their skills as private dancers. The girls take turns in pretending to be men, so that the potential strippers can show how they seduce them.

The interview sections were so realistic that they seemed like they were candid question and answer sessions, with the actresses giving honest answers from their own lives. The dancing sections were obviously rehearsed. I greatly enjoyed the interview sections, but the dances didn't live up to my expectations. I doubt I'll ever watch this film again.

Despicable Me (4 Stars)

Amazon Friday #43

Today I collected my granddaughter Evelyn from kindergarten. On the way home I asked her if she wanted to watch a film with me. That was an important question. She recently turned five, and she's never watched a film. She's happy watching videos on YouTube. Now it's time for her to move up to the next level. I picked the film "Despicable Me", better known as "the Minions film". Isn't that what everyone calls it?

I thought she might get bored, but she didn't. I'm sure she didn't understand everything. The film started with the Egyptian pyramids being stolen, but she doesn't know what the pyramids are. Nevertheless, she watched the whole film intently, bursting into laughter at any slapstick intervals. The film was a success, and there will be many more.

By the way, she drew this picture for me this morning. The two hearts are her heart and mine. Forever together. I love her so much.

Success Rate:  + 5.9

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Harlots of the Caribbean (4½ Stars)

It's taken a long time to get here. After 20 years, "Harlots of the Caribbean" has finally been released on Blu-ray. I was worried that Fred Olen Ray would only release his bikini films (as he likes to call them) if they starred Christine Nguyen, because she's his most popular actress, but here we have a film with the amazing Beverly Lynne, Rebecca Love, Nicole Sheridan and Beverly Lynne. Did I just say Beverly Lynne twice? It must be the echo out at sea.

That's not a harlot on the Blu-ray cover. It's the pirate queen Morgana, who used to have sex with every man before she made him walk the plank.

And those aren't harlots either. It's Beverly Lynne and Nicole Sheridan, modern day treasure hunters.

In fact, there aren't any harlots at all in the film. It's just a catchy title.

I bought two Blu-rays in the Medina collection that were released at the same time this month. I'll give a complete summary when I watch the other film.

Vier Fäuste für ein Hallelujah [comedy version] (4 Stars)

This is the comedy version of "Four Fists for a Hallelujah". Supposedly. I don't think it's any funnier than the version I watched yesterday. From what I've read the dubbing was more accurate in the theatrical version, but there's one significant exception: in the new version Terence Hill is called Trinity, as he should have been from the start.

Which version is better? I prefer this one. Trinity remains Trinity.

Vier Fäuste für ein Hallelujah (4 Stars)

I'm so frustrated with this film that I almost decided not to review it. It makes a mockery of my film blog and films in general. I reviewed it once before, using the English DVD title, "Trinity is still my name". That's the literal translation of the original Italian title. In Germany the film is called "Vier Fäuste für ein Hallelujah", i.e. "Four fists for a Hallelujah". That means absolutely nothing, but Germans like spectacular film titles. The title change doesn't bother me, except in the German dubbing Terence Hill isn't called Trinity, his name is Sleepy Joe. Why? The answer is only known to the super-intelligent boss of the German studio responsible for the dubbing when the film was released in 1971.

In 1982 the film was rereleased for video. For reasons also unknown to me the film was redubbed and called the "comedy version". That doesn't make sense either, because the original film was already a comedy. I just watched the original "theatrical" version, and I'll watch the comedy version tomorrow.

The Holy Virgin vs the Evil Dead (4 Stars)

There are cult films, there are cinematic oddities, and then there's "Holy Virgin vs the Evil Dead", a gloriously unhinged slice of Hong Kong supernatural cinema that seems determined to throw every outrageous idea at the screen. The result is a film that's messy, wildly inconsistent and almost impossible to forget.

The story combines Taoist magic, vampires, ghosts, zombies, black magic and martial arts into a single chaotic package. Logic is sacrificed in favour of spectacle, with one bizarre set piece following another at a relentless pace. The film rarely slows down long enough for the audience to question what's happening before introducing another monster, magical duel or outrageous plot twist.

What makes the film so entertaining is its refusal to play by any conventional rules. Horror, slapstick comedy and fantasy action collide throughout, creating the kind of manic energy that defined many low-budget Hong Kong productions of the late 1980's and early 1990's. The special effects are charmingly primitive by modern standards, relying on practical tricks, wire work and energetic performances rather than digital effects. The rough edges only add to the film's appeal.

The performances embrace the madness with complete sincerity. Nobody seems concerned about realism; every actor commits wholeheartedly to the increasingly absurd situations. That commitment helps transform what could have been an incoherent mess into something strangely infectious.

Viewed as a conventional horror film, "Holy Virgin vs the Evil Dead" has obvious flaws. The plot barely holds together, character development is minimal and tonal shifts can be dizzying. But those are also the qualities that have earned it a loyal cult following. Fans of Hong Kong genre cinema appreciate its fearless imagination and willingness to ignore every filmmaking rule in pursuit of entertainment.

It's not a polished classic, it's an unforgettable curiosity. If you enjoy supernatural martial arts films, over-the-top practical effects and wonderfully unpredictable storytelling, "Holy Virgin vs the Evil Dead" offers a delirious ride unlike almost anything else. It's exactly the kind of wonderfully eccentric film that rewards cult cinema enthusiasts willing to embrace its glorious insanity.

The Paperboy (5 Stars)

Quietly, practically unnoticed, "The Paperboy" delivered one of the creepiest evil child thrillers of the 1990's. Directed by Douglas Jackson, the Canadian film follows a lonely paperboy who becomes obsessed with creating the perfect family, eliminating anyone who stands in his way.

What makes "The Paperboy" memorable isn't graphic violence but the unsettling performance by Marc Marut. He gives Johnny an unnerving mix of childish innocence and cold-blooded manipulation, making him far more disturbing than many supernatural horror villains. The suburban setting and low-budget production give the film an everyday realism that makes his behaviour even more believable, while the script plays on the fear that true evil can hide behind the face of an apparently ordinary child.

Although it was released straight to video and largely overlooked by critics, "The Paperboy" has steadily built a reputation among horror fans. Much of that reputation can be traced to legendary horror host Joe Bob Briggs, who championed the film during his MonsterVision run, famously calling it "the most underrated horror film ever". That endorsement introduced countless genre fans to a film that many had never even heard of, and Briggs' enthusiasm helped cement its status as a hidden gem.

Its scarcity only added to the mystique. For many years "The Paperboy" was difficult to obtain in English-speaking countries, leading horror fans to seek out rare VHS tapes, imported DVDs and later online copies. Combined with its bizarre premise, memorable scenes and Marc Marut's unforgettable performance, that rarity transformed the film into exactly the kind of title that thrives through word of mouth. Rather than becoming famous through box office success, it earned its reputation through devoted fans recommending it to one another.

The Paperboy isn't a polished classic, but its creepy atmosphere, genuinely disturbing central performance and enduring reputation as an overlooked gem make it one of the most deserving cult horror discoveries of the 1990's. Even if Joe Bob Briggs' claim that it's "the most underrated horror film ever" is open to debate, the fact that people are still discovering and celebrating it more than three decades later suggests he wasn't exaggerating by very much.

There's a high probability that the film will one day be released on Blu-ray or even 4K. The reason for optimism is that "The Paperboy" has gone from being an obscure direct-to-video thriller to a genuine cult title. Over the last decade it's been rediscovered by horror fans, helped enormously by Joe Bob Briggs' enthusiastic endorsement and the rise of boutique labels that specialise in forgotten genre films. Companies such as Vinegar Syndrome, Severin Films, Arrow Video, Terror Vision and Unearthed Films have built their businesses on releasing exactly this kind of overlooked cult horror.

A new Blu-ray would make sense because:

• the film has never received a widely available, restored HD release in North America.

• its reputation has grown steadily through word of mouth.

• boutique labels are increasingly licensing direct-to-video horror from the 1980's and 1990's.

• Marc Marut's performance has become something of a cult talking point among horror fans.

A special edition could easily include:

• a new 2K or 4K scan of the original camera negative (if it still exists).

• an interview with Marc Marut.

• a retrospective with director Douglas Jackson.

• a commentary discussing the "evil child" subgenre.

• Joe Bob Briggs explaining why he considers it "the most underrated horror film ever".

If any forgotten 1990's horror film deserves this treatment, "The Paperboy" is one of the strongest candidates. Its cult reputation is still growing rather than diminishing, which is exactly the kind of trajectory that attracts boutique physical media labels.