Word: cats
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Dates: during 2000-2009
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...Welcome, latecomers, to the world of Hong Kong?s Category III movies. In 1990 the local censor board established this rating for films that could be seen only by those 18 and older. Cat III films came in two main flavors. One was the luridly violent melodrama: ?The Untold Story,? for example, with Anthony Wong as a restaurateur who kills people and serves them up dumpling-style. The other was period fantasy with lots of simulated sex. In epics such as ?Erotic Ghost Story? and ?Liu Jai: Home for the Intimate Ghosts,? horny demons and succubi preyed on innocent maidens...
...Supposedly one film provoked the Cat III rating: the Mainland-shot ?Squadron 731,? a/k/a ?Man Behind the Sun.? In this 1988 mondo-docudrama from Taiwanese director Mou Tunfei (T.R. Mous), Japanese scientists experiment sadistically on animals and humans. What gave the picture pariah status was its four-minute sequence of a live cat being thrown to and devoured by a swarm of rats. No stunt doubles were used in the making of this feline Chinese torture-chamber story. Even for a culture whose cuisine embraces dog, monkey and ants, and whose calendar pays homage to the rat every 12 years...
...street that ran West to East. Hollywood or Paris would disgorge some spiffy hit, and before you could say call my lawyer, an unofficial Asian remake would be in the theaters. So Hong Kong ripped off Luc Besson's Nikita in a homage called Black Cat. Plot theft is as common a factor in the Indian film industry as doleful, dancing heroines. Just this year, the U.S. thriller What Lies Beneath was turned into Raaz, and the Polish art film A Short Film About Love became the scandalous Ek Chhotisi Love Story. As a Bollywood character notes in the London...
...bassist Tony Levin, as well as a solid rock riff. However, “My Head Sounds Like That” is a self-indulgent dirge summed up by its appalling lyrics: “The oil is spitting in the saucepan / I squeeze the sponge and let the cat out / Oh, my head sounds like that.” Gabriel is never boring to listen to, but when none of the songs is much shorter than seven minutes, the burden of listening to an entire rendition of how his head sounds is more pain than it?...
...Tokyo as one can get. And yet, perhaps because of its special history, Shimoda is no Japanese hick town. There are English and Portuguese buttons on the atms. No one yelled "gaijin!" at me as I walked down the streets. There are funky bars like JaJah and Cheshire Cat that play soul and jazz. Indeed, the mongrel past is a source of pride for some inhabitants. "I'm happy I live in the town where (foreign) culture came to Japan," said Jiro Shoda, who was tending bar at the Cat as Miles Davis blew softly over the speakers...