Showing posts with label Teddy Page. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Teddy Page. Show all posts

Wednesday, January 24, 2018

Phantom Soldiers (1989)



The My Lai Massacre is, arguably, the most infamous occurrence of the Vietnam War, a conflict that was unpopular in America to start off (and, certainly, I would imagine in Vietnam, as well).  On March 16, 1968, between three-hundred-and-forty-seven and five-hundred-and-four civilians were killed in two hamlets of the Quang Ngai Province, including infants, children, and women.  The massacre was set off, at least in part, by a bloodlust the soldiers of Charlie Company felt due to recent, heavy casualties of their brothers in arms.  These losses were perpetrated largely by booby-traps set by the Viet Cong, engendering a hatred for the enemy and their guerilla tactics.  Using specious reasoning and sketchy intelligence, the soldiers performed some of the most inhuman acts possible, partly in the name of vengeance/payback.  Despite protests from certain of the men and reporting of the extent of the carnage to superior officers, the My Lai Massacre was covered up for roughly a year before it was exposed to the world.  Of all the soldiers charged with criminal offenses, only one was convicted, and he wound up serving about three-and-a-half years under house arrest (that doesn’t feel balanced, now does it?).  At any rate, the massacre is the jumping off point for Teddy Chiu’s (under the alias Irvin Johnson) Phantom Soldiers (aka Commando Phantom).  In fact, a character is even named Barker after Lieutenant Colonel Frank Barker, the officer in command of the My Lai operation.  Once this set up is done, however, the film essentially becomes a Missing in Action film, for better or worse.

A platoon of silent, black-clad, gasmask-wearing soldiers march into a small Vietnamese village, leveling the place and murdering everyone in sight with everything from bullets to nerve gas.  Investigating the titular troopers, Lieutenant Mike Custer (Corwin Sperry) and his men are captured behind enemy lines.  Meanwhile, back in the States, Mike’s brother Dan (Max Thayer) is a Texas Ranger, busting up drug cartels on the border.  He receives news of his brother’s disappearance and decides to go to Nam incognito and get his brother back.

It’s a little startling, though just a little, that American war films from the Seventies through the Eighties that were set in Vietnam very often focused on going back and winning the war.  Barring the righting of a perceived wrong in the minds of the more jingoistic, many of these films also centered on rescuing those soldiers who were MIA and forgotten about by all but their family members.  The two are not entirely mutually exclusive, both being seen as slights against the young men and women who gave their lives (literally and figuratively) in an “unwinnable” war.  Those who came back were not universally hailed like those who served in World War Two, and this only compounded the sour resentment of the veterans.  Likewise, this sort of film plays to the viewers who didn’t serve but still had strong feelings about America’s defeat.  Dan, then, is both a veteran and a patriot.  When not wearing his Stetson, he wears baseball caps, one that’s camouflaged and a blazing white number with the NFL logo on it.  He’s an all-American in every way.  He dislikes injustice, and he asserts at least twice that, “Nobody’s above the law” (I cannot imagine from whence this bit of dialogue came).  Dan has no real feelings about the rightness or wrongness of the Vietnam War, except in that his brother is involved in it.  Once he gets in-country, Dan winds up machine-gunning a slew of Viet Cong from a helicopter.  They are, after all, the enemy.  Yet, Dan’s first priority is his brother, so this bit of violence can be looked upon as survival rather than as any sort of soldierly duty.

Importantly, the American soldiers in the film are clearly distinguished from the Phantom Soldiers.  They do not fire on unarmed noncombatants.  They play by the rules.  They get irritated that the villains are making them look bad (and, y’know, that they’re blatant murderers).  Conversely, the Phantom Soldiers are ruthless, sadistic, and quasi-superhuman.  In their first scene, the Phantoms are shot and beaten with gun butts, but these things have no effect on them, shrugging them off like gnats a-buzzing.  Their uniforms are meant to inspire fear and call back to several reference points.  First, the gas masks are reminiscent of those creepy ones we’ve all seen in photos of the soldiers in the trenches and the civilians at home during both World Wars.  Two, the masks evoke images of death in their implacable brutality and lifeless visages.  Three, they recall memories of Star Wars in the audience with their similarity to Darth Vader and his stormtroopers, not only in the skull-like faces but also in the Nazi-esque helmets.  Their actions in the film, and the explanation behind it all is a way for Americans to say, “See?  We were the good guys here!”  It’s the sort of exculpation of America and some its soldiers that, I would suggest, they needed to have in order to deal with their involvement in Vietnam and to vindicate themselves to those who hated them for it.  Naturally, it’s also a power fantasy to reinforce that America is the best ever.

Phantom Soldiers excels in the action department.  The scenes of carnage are exciting, well-shot and edited, and impactful.  They are also overlong (and, I’m sure, fans of action films will argue that this is impossible) to the point of stopping the story dead in its tracks.  Some would say that’s just fine and dandy in this sort of movie (and to some degree, it is), but for my money, it also winds up becoming a vague blur and, ultimately, pretty boring.  It’s simply too much of a good thing, which I hate to say, because of the insane amount of talent involved in these sequences.  The actual plot, then, just meanders along, bopping from action beat to action beat, barely holding together just to fill the spaces between explosions and gunfire.  Thayer does a solid job as the good ol’ boy maverick, but even what charisma he musters isn’t quite enough to compel an audience along through the whole of the film.  He does blow things up real good, though.

MVT:  The action.

Make or Break:  The opening sequence is rock solid across the board, despite the remainder of the film not quite paying off on this potential.

Score:  6/10    

Wednesday, December 24, 2014

Blackfire (1985)

On a bright, shiny day during the Vietnam War (let’s assume it’s set during the Vietnam War for the sake of sanity), an elderly fisherman is accosted by the Viet Cong.  Luckily, Sergeant Frank Johnson (Romano Kristoff aka Ron Kristoff) and his elite team of commandos are hiding in the water, and they rescue the old man (who also happens to be working with the U.S.).  After destroying a probable P.O.W. camp (without actually checking for P.O.W.s beforehand), Frank’s team is decimated with the exception of Frank and Jim (Jim Gaines).  The two buddies are sent in an advisory (read: training) capacity to the fictitious (as far as I know) South American Island of San Sebastian, and aside from running afoul of their new commanding officer, Captain Fidel Salcedo (played by Ray Vernall, and the character is seemingly named at least partially after Juan de Salcedo, one of the conquistadors who helped colonize the Philippines for Spain in 1565; of course, this is strictly guess work on my part), Frank also finds out that there are some shady dealings happening most nights on the base.

One thing that stands out almost immediately in Teddy Page’s (aka Teddy Chiu) Blackfire is this concept of outsiders (like, say, Americans and Spaniards) intruding on/invading a small territory (like, say, the Philippines) and exploiting the local people and resources for their own ends.  So, we have Captain Salcedo and Luis Sanchez (Tony Carreon), the older plantation owner who also just happens to be a criminal kingpin.  Not only does Sanchez ostensibly harm the local folks (plantations not being known for great working conditions, though I believe his is no longer operating strictly as one), but his nefarious business dealings hurt the world outside (people looking to get heavy ordnance on the sly not being known for their good intentions toward their fellow man).  But this idea of invaders extends to the “good guys” in the film as proverbial “ugly Americans,” too.  Within the first few minutes of the film, the term “gook” Is dropped several times.  Now, this is something expected in films dealing at all with the Vietnam War from a soldier’s perspective, but the word really stands out here for some reason.  It doesn’t feel casual.  It feels pointed.  Maybe it’s the post-dubbing.  Later, Jim muscles in on a woman at a local watering hole, brushing off the man she’s sitting with (who is not her actual boyfriend, I might add) as a yokel and therefore beneath him.  Again, we expect horny guys in bar scenes to do dumb things, but Gaines carries himself with (what I thought was) a sense of arrogance that makes Jim (and by association the American troops) stand out in an unsavory way.

Another theme running parallel to this notion is one of power and corruption.  Sanchez has money (whether he earned it via the plantation or the smuggling is unclear [and immaterial]).  Money buys power.  Power corrupts.  But this is a two-way street.  Salcedo has power by outranking everyone else on his base.  Once one reaches a position like that, it only takes the temptation of money for flawed men to become evil men (we can discuss nature versus nurture some other time).  Jim and Frank are lower in rank, so they are powerless in terms of what they can accomplish within this closed system.  They can try to reach someone higher up than Salcedo, but first they would have to get past Salcedo and Sanchez’s minions, who are (assumedly) lesser in rank than Frank and Jim but corrupted by the same money and power which corrupted those above them.  Then they would have to convince whomever they can get to that their allegations are on the level (it’s easier than one might think, if this movie is any indication, but still…).  Salcedo and Sanchez’s immorality reaches further into the roots of San Sebastian, where even the prison system is set up only for purposes of torture and problem disposal (we can guess at the behest of people like Sanchez and Salcedo).  It’s the sort of prison where the warden wears an eyepatch, and the guards laugh maniacally whilst dispensing pain and degradation.  One would almost think only sociopaths work in prisons.      

Interestingly, Blackfire sets up Frank to be a sort of spiritual warrior.  He has “dreams” (read: flashbacks) to his time as a youth with his ninja master grandfather (yes, really).  Set up in the classic, cinematic pattern, his Ninjitsu skills come to the fore as Frank finds himself in physical peril.  What’s more, he must be at the critical moment of said peril in order to activate his expertise.  It’s kind of like how special branches of the military are trained.  It’s not that they have so many seemingly insurmountable things thrown at them in order for them to know how to deal with each situation, because that would be impossible to accomplish.  No, they are pushed the way that they are so that when they find themselves in a crisis situation, they don’t pause to think, only to act and/or react (or at least that’s what I learned from watching The Unit).  Because Frank has these special abilities that his fellow soldiers don’t possess, he is alone even in a group.  He may lead a crack team of fighters into combat, but he is separate from them (he even uses a crossbow in the opening sequence).  This is why he lone wolf’s it while trying to get information about Salcedo’s scheme.  Even Jim is ultimately kept separate from Frank.  First, when Jim suspects his friend of being a villain (Frank is inherently untrustworthy despite what feelings of camaraderie Jim may feel for him and because of his oddness), and second, when Frank goes off solo to the final confrontation with Salcedo.  Frank opened this can of worms.  Frank has to close it back up.  Or shoot it full of lead.

This film is as simple as simple gets, in case you missed it, and like a great deal of films that came out of the Philippines, it’s dearth of scriptwriting and thespian skills shines through.  As Nancy (Chantal Mansfield aka Charlotte Maine) tries to break a computer code, she flings her head into her hands after each failed attempt, as if her dog has just been killed.  Every line of dialogue is delivered in the flattest, most declarative fashion possible.  Our hunky star is basically a slab of meat who bellows several times like Reb Brown in the classic Strike Commando.  A major plot point could never be revealed in real life, because it would bring massive repercussions down on all the major characters.  But there’s the thing.  The other half of what Blackfire is composed of (action scenes, in case you needed to guess) delivers surprisingly well.  The explosions are huge, the fire fights are tense and clearly blocked, and Kristoff is not afraid to tackle the role’s physicality; something he does quite well.  Obviously, this is no Full Metal Jacket, and Kristoff is no Gielgud, but for a straight ahead Action film, this one hits the spot just enough.  And then blows that spot up real good.

MVT:  The action is what it’s all about, and the action is about all you’ll get.

Make or Break:  The opening siege of the P.O.W. camp brings enough spectacle to keep almost any Action film fan in their seat. 

Score:  6.25/10   

Monday, December 23, 2013

Episode #267: Hong Kong Blood Hands

Welcome to another episode of the GGtMC!!!

This week Sammy and Will are joined by Mattsuzaka (chucknorrisatemybaby.com) and Karl Brezdin (fistofblist.com) for a Christmas episode we think you will really enjoy!!! The gents cover Blood Hands (1990) directed by Teddy Page and starring Sean P. Donahue and Hong Kong Godfather (1985) directed by Lung Wei Wang!!! We wasnt to thank Karl and Matt for coming on the show, we had an absolute blast!!!

Direct download: ggtmc_267.mp3
 
Emails to midnitecinema@gmail.com

Voicemails to 206-666-5207

Adios!!!