A brand-new groom strangles himself to death with his tie at his own wedding reception. A young woman running track experiences such a sudden jolt of speed that she literally can’t slow or stop until the bones snap out of her legs. On his wife’s 70th birthday, a man leaps through the window of their apartment building. Just before these acts, all three mention a “green monkey.” Call me crazy, but I think they just might be related.
Poison? No. Drugs? No. The Hypnotist? Hmmm … we may be on to something.
And for a while, this Japanese thriller is as well, as authorities attempt to draw the line that connects the three tragedies. What director Masayuki Ochiai does wrong is then steer the story from a procedural mystery to the supernatural element of the “creepy young girl” then so prevalent and in vogue among Asian cinema — and soon in American remakes. Even with accompanying surreal set design that suggests hiring Dr. Caligari as a contractor, what was interesting becomes unimaginative and tiresome. —Rod Lott
Phillipe is a creepy fool who drunkenly hits on Cousin Lorena; Harriet is a timid housemaid who sees visions of death. Lorena and Andrew quickly form a relationship that may or may not be romantic (I choose “not,” because it allows me to continue judging Phillipe while still liking the two leads), giving this House some appeal that it probably doesn’t deserve. There’s nothing overtly sexual in the way they act around each other; they’re just extremely comfortable in one another’s company and encourage each other in more ways than simply trying to stay alive. There’s a particularly sweet scene where Andrew complains about not knowing anything about himself: “I don’t even know what color I am.”
Nine times out of 10, when you pick up an obscure movie you know nothing about based solely on its poster, you’re going to get burned. I expected as much when I bought a copy of Dom DeLuise’s 1979 directorial debut, 
With just over a month to save their unit, they decide (with the blessing of their captain, Ossie Davis) to take over a local fencing warehouse and buy stolen goods while filming the perps through a two-way mirror. The mob soon gets involved, causing some amusing mayhem, but the majority of the running time is spent on the amusing array of criminals who come in to unload their stolen goods.
The cover of Ted V. Mikels’ 
Roughly halfway in, 10 Violent Women switches gears into WIP territory when the chicks get thrown in the clink. It has all the elements one expects from the subgenre — nude showers, lesbian warden — but none of the punch. The flick’s initial energy peters out right after the heist.