Bamboo House of Dolls
Shaw Brothers takes on the WIP film. As strange a combination as it sounds.
reelscum catalogues 259 exploitation films from the 1970s. They were released between 1970 and 1979. The subgenres that appear most often are Blaxploitation (29 films), Giallo (28 films) and Martial arts (21 films).
The countries credited most often are USA (96), Italy (71) and France (24). Directors with more than one entry in the decade include Jean Rollin (8), Sergio Martino (7) and Umberto Lenzi (6).
Entries include Bamboo House of Dolls (1973), The Twilight People (1972) and Alvin Purple (1973). Each links to its own page with a verdict, rating axes and where to watch.
Shaw Brothers takes on the WIP film. As strange a combination as it sounds.
The cheapest Island of Doctor Moreau ever committed to film, and one of the most watchable.
The sex comedy that funded the entire boom. Historically important, hard going.
Prison-boxing blaxploitation that out-grossed every indie of its year and got forgotten anyway.
Rudy Ray Moore makes a deal with the Devil to come back from the dead. Deranged and delightful.
Meiko Kaji before Toei, leading a girl gang through Nikkatsu's coolest delinquent picture.
No plot. A stuntman and a prog band. Exists purely so Grant Page can work.
A Turkish barbarian, his wolf, and the most beloved rubber octopus in world cinema.
Cirio Santiago's Manila blaxploitation at full tilt, remembered for one fight staged in the dark.
Exactly what it says, at half the pace you want.
A couple who find that killing is the only thing that works, followed all the way down.
One of the most profitable independents ever made. Nastier than its reputation.
A young model is stalked after a nude shoot. A slow-burn Australian thriller with a real sense of dread.
A flamboyant pimp fights to stay on top as everything closes in. Sharper and sadder than most.
Fukasaku again, arguing the two categories in the title are the same.
Four men maimed by a tyrant learn to fight through their disabilities. Chang Cheh at his most inventive.
A biracial cop pairing hunts jewel thieves in Detroit. Tarantino re-released it for a reason.
Wakamatsu wires the pink film to a detonator and steps back.
Tomas Milian debuts Er Monnezza, the filthiest man in Italian crime cinema, and steals his own movie.
A decapitated warlock's head, still working. Naschy wrote it himself.
Pete Walker builds a secret prison to punish the censors who wanted one. Sheila Keith is the nightmare.
Zombie bikers, toad worship and George Sanders' last film. As English as horror gets.
The Canadian Deliverance, and grimmer than the nickname promises.
Every monster at once, all of them on a budget of nothing. Delightful.
Bunta Sugawara as pure appetite. The jitsuroku style arriving fully formed.
Late-cycle Castellari. Everyone is exhausted and it shows productively.
The girls-with-guns spy picture Tarantino keeps name-checking, and rightly.
Brown, Williamson and Kelly against a plot to poison the water supply.
Toei's red-coated killer cop, and the blueprint for every lone avenging woman after her.
Ito's second, and the most formally daring film in the whole category.
Norifumi Suzuki at full speed. Reiko Ike is the whole show.
Mykonos has never looked prettier or hosted anything uglier. Mastorakis dared himself to be banned and won.
Revenge via Haitian zombies. The best of the blaxploitation horror crossovers.
The most elegant film ever filed under sexploitation, and the reason Metzger belongs in the canon.
A Rhine myth relocated to Spain, with a monster that only works in long shot.
Half drama, half documentary of 1970s Oakland. The real players are in it.
Martino sends Luc Merenda undercover and off the leash. Prime cop-on-a-rampage stuff.
A secret society farms humans for blood. Ozploitation does vampires as corporate agribusiness.
Merli takes his no-mercy cop routine to Naples. Fast, brutal, and politically incoherent as ever.
Pam Grier as the sadist for once. Bleaker than its stablemates.
Jonathan Demme's first script, produced by Corman. Rashomon on bikes.
The Italian Exorcist. Warner sued. It made money anyway.
Ercoli's brighter, faster Death Walks. Nieves Navarro sees a murder and nobody buys it.
A prince and a thief, master and pupil in disguise. Lau Kar-leung's wittiest choreography.
Ito's last. Kaji drags a severed arm through Tokyo in the opening minutes.
An art film that was sold as a vampire picture. Recut and buried for decades.
A dead 1940s gangster possesses a mild law student. Blaxploitation crossed with the supernatural.
Made by the couple who then wrote American Graffiti. A nightmare that never explains itself.
Rollin at his purest. Two women in clown costume, a castle, almost no dialogue.
The Japanese entry, and formally the most accomplished of them.
The naked snow swordfight. Everyone remembers it; the rest is decent Meiji melodrama.
A DPP video nasty far better known for its poster than for anything in the film.
The title is the pitch. Delivers on it with unusual formal care.
Funnier and better than the first. Sid Haig is having an excellent time.
Herschell Gordon Lewis signs off with a meat tenderiser and a gag about chocolate milk.
Convent politics played as Renaissance power-drama. More Borgia than bondage.
A stage magician whose tricks are real. Lewis's most interesting idea.
The blaxploitation Exorcist. A minister's wife is possessed by a sex demon. Warner Bros sued.
Jess Franco's contribution to the cycle. Cheap, delirious and utterly shameless, even for him.
Borowczyk brings his erotic art-house eye to the convent. Beautiful, explicit and barely plotted.
Technically inept and completely irresistible. Boom mics in every other shot.
Lau Kar-leung's revenge epic. A survivor spends years learning the one style that can beat the villain.
Rollin's best, and the one where the pretty dream logic finally grows teeth.
Fukasaku's nastiest. A gangster too unstable for organised crime.
Rollin's most coherent, which is not saying a great deal. Gorgeous.
Two cops who are clearly the villains. Ruggero Deodato, before the jungle.
The best of the series. A pram, a snowfield, and a small army that should have stayed home.
A couple litter, and Australia decides to kill them. Excellent.
The Blind Dead ride out one last time. A quiet, sad closer to Spain's best monster series.
A man in a coma does telekinesis. Better than that sentence implies.
Maurizio Merli punches Rome for 100 minutes. Politics: incoherent.
The rare sequel that adds Pam Grier and a shred of dignity.
Di Leo's dirty-cop picture, and the rot goes all the way home.
Australia's outlaw-biker scripture. Mad Max drank from this tank.
Jack Hill doing Othello with teenage gangs. Much smarter than it needs to be.
Jack Hill and Pam Grier invent the modern formula in the Philippines.
Jimmy Wang Yu invents the empty-hand kung fu film. No swords.
The best-looking giallo nobody names, shot by Storaro between two Bertoluccis.
The Blind Dead put to sea on a model boat in a visible fish tank. The runt of the four.
Rollin with the vampires stripped out, and his best film for it.
The Arkansas Bigfoot docudrama that invented an entire regional-monster format on a hundred grand.
A secret society, a Paris chateau, and dream logic all the way down.
Barely a murder mystery. A slow psychological collapse, and superb.
Cool to the point of refrigeration, scored by Marvin Gaye the one time he ever bothered.
Isaac Hayes in front of the camera for once, and Nichelle Nichols swearing.
Tomas Milian as a repellent psychopath. Deeply unpleasant, very good.
A batch of ten-year-old LSD makes people go bald and homicidal. A great, paranoid premise.
Ercoli's best. Structurally cleverer than most of the cycle.
Sold as a women-in-prison quickie. Shot like an art film. Meiko Kaji barely blinks.
Chinese kung fu versus Japanese martial arts, as a marriage. Lau Kar-leung's most good-natured film.
Castellari's breakout in the genre, and Franco Nero furious for ninety minutes.
Naschy's grisliest, and the one where the rats were not an effect.
D'Amato's convent, where the theology is a coat-hook for the softcore.
The one that started it, by remaking A Man Called Horse in Thailand.
Blind Dead again, this time besieging a whole village. The best of the four.
West Germany's pseudo-documentary sex series. Thirteen entries, vast profits, zero shame.
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