Throughout the 1960s and 1970s, however, Koreans were in no position to spend much money on a watch, and if they did, they tended to rely on something that looked expensive, but wasn’t. Like elsewhere, display backs — the ones where the back lid had a small hinge — disappeared. Orient benefited from that trend: its dials boasted “21 jewels” and most of its cases came in gold-plated steel (see ad). Seiko also tried hard to sell its watches in Korea, but until the 1990s, the lingering resentment felt towards Japan made it less desirable to have a Japanese product as an accessory, as opposed to a Taiwanese-made one, so advertising would not make unnecessary mention of the two brands’ origin. In the 1980s the quartz watch phenomenon ruined whatever culture brands like Orient could nurture; Koreans now began to wear quartz watches that looked (and sometimes undoubtedly were) made entirely of gold.

In the 1990s, Koreans consumers began to pick up on the “real watch” fad so popular elsewhere, but again, and much like everywhere else in the world except Europe, mostly as a fashion accessory and its association with wealth. Few Koreans were interested in what went on inside a watch. A small number of Korean connoisseurs had always had a passion for horology, but their number certainly did not grow as fast as the number of Koreans spending money on non-quartz-based watches. Rolex and Breitling did well, because they make gold-plated watches and are associated with wealth (and an embarrassment to pulp, but let’s not go there), but IWC did not and so you are hard pressed to find an IWC owner in Seoul these days (although they exist, of course). A slow stroll around Seoul’s downtown Tapshimni’s second-hand market or Chongno 4-ga’s jewellery shops is no longer worth the effort. Because of the long history of automatic watches, and the easy of use of quartz watches, hand-wound watches have not been popular in Korea. In the beginning of the 21st century, when even limited-edition brands like Panerai and Jaquet Droz came to Lotte’s Avenuel store in downtown Seoul, the fact that the former offered mostly hand-wound models did not serve its popularity. What is more, as the owner of the Avenuel store told Master Lee, customers were reluctant to wait for a specific model (빨리빨리…) to arrive, and as a result Panerai died a premature death. Master Lee, however, has no time for quartz watches. He hopes for an innovative Korean-made brand of watches, and he says there’s no time to waste.

The plot (yes, the Master knows, it’s a presumptuous word in this context) thickens when a group of baddies returns who then admit they’ve been beaten up by one man using… taekwondo. This gets the leader’s goat who immediately dispatches more men to bring the taekwondo character to him (presumably involving a fair amount of gratuitous violence). Han, who meanwhile has found a place to eat in a restaurant that cries out to be beaten and kicked to a smouldering ruin, is accosted by a bunch of unfriendlies. The Master is not entirely sure whether these are the men sent by the pissed-off leader of the men who had already gotten beaten up or by Fatty (뚱보), said leader’s main rival (or so it seems), because the Master was watching the plot take a hike and disappear through the window. It doesn’t really matter, because Han puts on a masterclass taekwondo or “how to look stylish while kicking people in the head who attack one by one.” The cool mustache Han is sporting certainly helps him looking cool in a decidedly 70s way. The action is textbook taekwondo demonstration stuff: lots of roundhouses aimed at the head (Chuck Norris eat your heart out!), spinning kicks and hooks to the head. For a moment it looked like it might get interesting when one tough guy introduced a metal chair (thank you WWE), but Han roundhouses and straight-punches his way out of trouble, which makes him look as if he’s giving a black belt examination demonstration. Masterly point of note: on second thought, that might not be a stripe of hair, but a scar. Video quality isn’t exactly great, so it is hard to tell.

There are definitely elements of a western in Manchurian Tiger. The stranger (Han) coming to town, the saloon (restaurant) fight and the best part: a coffin maker who is instructed by the bad guys to prepare some coffins (presumably for Han) and for himself if he doesn’t hurry up. Then there’s the obligatory Visit-To-The-Stranger’s-Hotelroom scene by the guy with the scar over his face (it’s a scar, because we get to see it real nice and close, just before his face is beaten to a pulp by the soles of Han). The fighting scenes look OK. Nothing special, the moves are good, but there’s a distinct lack of fluidity as if each move is a move unto it self and there is a pause between each move and the next. In between, everybody curses the Japanese to remind the viewer that we’re looking at a piece set in the colonial period.

Slowly but surely something resembling a plot became apparent to the Master: Yongcheol is a gangster with a deadly kick, who gets implicated in the killing of the brother of his lover. The actual murdere is Yamamoto, who has a Japanese name and thus is to be kicked to a bloody pulp according to the laws of the genre. Yongcheol drowns his sorrows in alcohol, but sobers up in time to find out that Yamamoto (who by the way is very good at smashing empty bottles with his bare hands) has kidnapped his lover. Yongcheol then joins the independent movement (which was very active in Manchuria in the 20s and 30s) and becomes a righteous man (which brings the added bonus of being able to smithe enemies with one’s righteous indignation). You can fill in the rest. Let’s put it this way: the Master knows what he would have rightly done to the likes of Yamamoto! And Han obliges…

This was one of the first really Korean action martial arts movies in this vein. As such, it’s easy to criticize the lack of sophisticated action moves, but at the same time these movies (Lee would go on to make a fair amount of them) provided a different view of martial arts, away from the fist-oriented, kung fu-dominated Hong Kong movies and paving the way for the Hong-Kong/South-Korea co-productions Master Lee is so fond of. So for the pioneering spirit of this movie (and for the last scene in which Yongcheol, accompanied by a Mexican-sounding trumpet diddy, rides off alone into the sunset in a cart with a coffin full of gold for the independence movement), Master Lee pronounces Manchurian Tiger masterly pulp.

As a preface, the storyline holds great promise, but unfortunately, the scenario  (by Choi Sŏkhwan) does not let us empathise much with any of the characters in the movie. Although Sun Ae does an excellent job at looking hurt and fragile even throughout performances, the viewer is left to figure out what keeps driving her, and how her feelings might change as a result of some of the shocking situations she finds herself in. Chŏng’s talent is also wasted as he is made to overreact throughout nearly the entire movie. He is a band leader who acts like a gangster and never shows any interest in communication, love, food, or humour. Instead, the scenario “entertains” us with lots of action, a few nostalgic songs, and rather comic book-like characters. Considering the topic of the Vietnam War has for so long been avoided, this particular scenario is a true let-down, especially as new generations of Koreans will form their judgement partly on the basis of movies like this. South Korea’s involvement in the Vietnam War is not questioned or reflected on once, and although most entertainers traveling to Vietnam to support the troops will undoubtedly have done so to earn money, it is hard to believe they didn’t also feel some sense of purpose or empathy with the young men. But not here. The only expressions of pro-South Korean army sentiment are perhaps those where the Americans and the Vietcong are shown committing war crimes. In fact, several war scenes left Master Lee with the impression that he was supposed to feel pity for the South Korean army, even though we all know that Master Lee does not do pity. The final scene, fortunately, was not too bad, partly because by this time viewers would have come to realise that the director really does not have much to tell us at all, but also because as an ending it is actually fairly realistic. Shame the bombastic soundtrack almost ruins it.

Vinyl/designer toys are limited edition collectible toys usually with humanoid shapes that are most commonly produced in sizes 2.5~3″ or 6~8″. They often constitute customized variations of a given standard, with a sense of pseudo-individualism that would make Adorno proud. In many ways all forms of art rely on conventions, of course, but one could argue that as with manga, in the realm of vinyl art creation through imitation is the rule. It seems that more than fifty percent of all production is based on variations on two major icons: Dunny and Qee. Dunny was created by Paul Budnitz and Tristan Eaton, and produced by the American Kidrobot company from around 2004. Qee was created by the Hong Kong-based company Toy2R, which was founded by Raymond Choy in 1995. Although some websites have suggested that Dunny is for the West what Qee is for the East, thankfully due to eBay and other online sales, these days vinyl art knows precious few regional boundaries. One very successful collaboration, is the American Meomi company’s Qee version known as Derby Cat (see picture).

Another excellent designer toy – and one that unlike the vast majority actually comes with a comic book, i.e. a storyline – is the Astrolapin series by the London-based Mr Clement. A special, extra-limited (to 40) 5″-edition of the socially troubled, space-traveling astronaut bunny was announced well ahead of its exclusive sale at the 2010 Comic Con to make sure fans would rush there to pick one up.

Presumably inspired by the success of Qee overseas, and the success of the Japanese Devilrobots company’s To-fu Oyako characters in Taiwan and Hong Kong, in 2008 Korea’s Delitoys began to create a canvas of its own, the Ouip. The Ouip is strengthening its iconic presence across Korea through collaborations with various artists and businesses and they clearly position its product as a platform (which is where the “p” in Ouip comes from; the remainder being the French soccer fans’ response to “do you dislike Raymond Domenech?”). It is interesting that vinyl toys are now fast becoming a new popular canvas for artists to work on. Although Master Lee finds the lightbulb shape of the original Ouip seriously lacking in attractiveness, some artists have already turned some of its other, more humanoid “platforms” into some very cool characters indeed (picture taken at a gallery in central Seoul in May 2010). Of course Master Lee does not play with toys, and in fact usually treats his opponents like canvases…, but he would like to know who designed these cool Ouips and would certainly welcome feedback.

Anyway, back to the movie. Evil Japanese karateka chase Korean independence fighter Carter Huang into a church, but inside they find Jhoon Rhee. Surpri-ise! And just when you think Jhoon Rhee is going to kick the shit out of the Japanese who fail to realize who they have before them, a young Western nun steps up and gives divine providence a hand (and a foot) by humiliating the leader of the Japanese thugs mano a mano. After a confrontation with the priest, Father Louis (played by producer Andre Morgan), who is startled to find out that his nun learned her ass-whooping martial arts skills from his gardener (yes, Jhoon Rhee of course), Jhoon Rhee, the nun and Carter Huang decide to leave. The priest decides to stay behind in his church, unwilling to believe the Japanese would actually hurt him. And then… Japanese ronin headed by Sammo Hung (with a five o’clock shadow) as the überronin! Just as they’re interrogating the priest by slapping him around, Jhoon Rhee (who by the way really resembles Fred Astaire when he smiles) returns, reveals he is the legendary resistance Leader Li Jundong and single-handedly chases the Japanese out of the church, ronin or not. Let the games begin!

In the ensuing mayhem, the mother of Angela Mao (who plays a Korean of Chinese extraction) is killed and the priest becomes a veritable martyr who suspiciously looks like Jesus (but then with hair painted gray and in the Far East) and our nun takes a bite out of ronin Sammo’s leg.. and then spits it out. The Master was impressed with the spunk of this girl. The plot thickens when Jhoon Rhee has to offer himself in exchange for Father Louis in the lion’s den: the Bansan karate dojo where the Japanese have their headquarters.

Now the others have to try and rescue their master and leader and have to go through Hwang Inshik (who has a beard here, so is doubly dangerous) to get there! So buckle down and enjoy the ride!

This is a great martial arts movie, surprisingly the only one the legendary Taekwondo master Jhoon Rhee ever made. Jhoon, who was close enough to Bruce Lee to tickle him under the chin and not get kicked senseless (which btw is what apparently did happen to a cocksure Hwang Inshik, so sayeth the grapevine). The storyline is quite simple. Koreans are good (as are the foreigners who help them), Japanese are bad, shit is going to happen when impetuous young independence fighters refuse to listen to the words of the patient master (who does know that long-term strategy consists of more than kicking the living daylights out of every Japanese one encounters). The fighting is great, old school action and Hwang Inshik in particular is impressive. Had he looked a little less bad-mooded, he just might have been the biggest star of them all.Granted, the nun isn’t very good and Carter Huang doesn’t impress, but the fight between Angela Mao and Hwang Inshik (who was her real-life teacher) and Jhoon Rhee fighting with shackled arms make up for that. And amply so.

Best one-liner (OK, stricty speaking its three lines. But do you want to argue with the Master about this? Well, do you, punk?)

“ Taekwondo? Damn it. So you’re anti-Japanese!”

Masterly pulp, so sayeth the Master!

While everybody plays along nicely in the inevitable unfolding of destiny in the shape of James Nam kicking butt, the musical director of this flick apparently also worked on The Man With The Golden Gun, Shaft and a host of other 70s movies, given the recycling the themes of these movies experience in the soundtrack of The Jaws Of The Dragon. Whenever the action gets too hot, there is the Theme From Shaft to cool things down! You’d think that the musical Meister in charge would have had the decency to at least hire his own musicians to play the plagiarized pieces of music, but it seems to have been a simple cut and paste job (although in the pre-computer era this can’t have been too easy. But the Master digresses…).

The movie starts nice enough with the opening track from The Man With The Golden Gun, inimitable 70s dresses, some nice fighting and one backstabbing femme fatale (or is that a tautology, the Master wonders). It then quickly develops in a schlocky drugs thriller in which James Nam gets the drugs (or money) and the girl, meanwhile leaving behind him a trail of warm bodies. Somewhere in the movie his brother also has a role (at least according to the credits), but the picture quality of the movie isn’t what you would call fabulous, so several times the Master wasn’t too sure whether it was James Nam or his brother Kenny he was looking at (not that it matters to the Master of course: faces have a reassuring way of all looking the same flattened under a fist). The action scenes are pretty good, the violence is gritty, even if the tortures scenes with the blowtorch and the slab of ice could have been left out (although the Master was surprised to see that the Chinese dripping water torture technique actually works on Korean tough guys, while hitting, kicking and blowtorching them only makes them laugh in your face). The action is more convincing than most other fight scenes in similar movies (although the big fight in the middle of the movie features some moves that are some lame and badly executed, even David Carradine wouldn’t have used them) and James Nam seems to derive a particular pleasure from hurting people. And he looks bad ass while doing it, such as when he ties a would-be assassin to the roof of his Volkswagen Beetle (you have to be truly bad ass to get away with driving a white Beetle and still be respected on the street) and drives off only to take the bad guy up an apartment building and dangle him from the roof in a pre-Commando interrogation technique Arnie would have approved of (not to mention Jack Bauer). And when he is really angry (they should have left his girl alone), he comes out with some nifty moves that would not be look bad in the WWF. There is to the detriment of the action also a love story going on in which James successfully convinces a way too naïve girl that, no, he never wanted to be a criminal and that he only busts up people if they are not reasonable. Or in the way. Not surprisingly, their Love Story-like romantic outings in Seoul (where the movie was shot), consists of the two love birds taking the tours, walking along boulevards, eating out and watching violent and bloody dogfights…

The finale takes place in an abandoned industrial park (sound familiar?) where Whitey, the boss of the gang that is unsuccessfully trying to kill James Nam, has stationed a bunch of foreign mercenaries, who “play it cool” as one of them says. Nonetheless, they get burned by Junior, of course.

In all a very enjoyable movie with some great action and great (if copied) music, that does not deserve its obscurity. It is a Korean 70s movies, so be prepared for a gritty and dark story. There are more 70s movies like this from Korea and the Master will check them out and let you know. The Master was satisfied. (BTW, like the hairdo, James.)

Excellent points of interest that drew the Master’s attention:

-shameless thieving of at least 10 70s soundtracks
-70s Seoul as the background of the story
-claw hammer alert (Old Boy reached back to a venerable South Korean tradition of smashing skulls and bones with claw hammers)
-ankle-high red leather boots and matching leather gloves worn by one of the baddies, who is dressed in black (except for the boots and gloves of course)
-everybody throwing sticks of dynamite at each other
-James Nam cleaning his wounds with soju (that’s Korean liquor, 25-30% proof, for those unfortunate enough not to have tasted it)
-foreign actors who do not suck at fighting

the black dragon going at it

Another internationally coproduced product of prolific Korean martial arts flick director Kim Si-Hyun 김시현. This one stars Dragon Lee 거룡, sidekick staple Choi Min-Kyu 최민규 and the Black Dragon himself, Ron Van Clief (respect from Master Lee for the Black Dragon!). And quite rarely, Ron Van Clief is the bad guy in this movie about a lost book with the secret finger techniques of Bruce Lee (“So well-suited to a woman,” coos pretty female lead Amy Chun with what hopefully is irony). Dragon Lee was burdened with the name of Ricky Chan (supposedly Bruce Lee’s best finger technique disciple. Ladies beware) and is credited as ‘Bruce Rhee’… Oh, come on! What’s wrong with Dragon Lee? Or is it because in Kung Fu Fever, Dragon goes totally overboard with his Bruce Lee-imitations? Bruce Rhee is just like Bruce Lee, only it isn’t. Just like Dragon Lee in this movie.

Let’s start with the good things: a groovy early 70s soundtrack (although the movie was made in the last months of the decade), pilot sunglasses for Dragon Lee (pardon, I mean Bruce Rhee), nice (if overly derivative) action scenes and a pretty lady (Amy Chun). And of course, Ron Van Clief, the Black Dragon, who starts off the movie by bullying one of Bruce Lee’s students into submission. This student, by the way, shows an eerie resemblance to Lee Chang-Dong 이창동, the famed Korean director of intellectual movies (and they are pretty good, the Master must admit, despite their lack of gangsters, fights and pretty girls) and former Minister of Culture nonetheless: mmmh, something you want to tell us, Director Lee, about a past that wasn’t so literary and arty-farty perhaps?). Ron Van Clief uses Bruce Lee’s recent death to steal Bruce’s secret finger techniques, recorded in a book he promised to pretty Amy at the beginning of the movie, when real Bruce Lee footage was spliced in to make Dragon Lee look authentic (as Ricky Chan) as a student of Bruce Lee and set up the story of lost techniques (and the place they can be found).

The bad things (well, no need to be harsh, the Master guesses, the less good things will do here): the print quality is bad to the extent of not being able to recognize all faces all of the time, which is kinda annoying when you realize the story is the kind of story one can expect from a low budget Korean-Hong Kong-Taiwan martial arts coproduction (OK, there you go: the Master should have known better than to purchase a cheap 10 DVD-pack called Urban Violence, which  included The Kung Fu Fever and 5 more of Ron Van Clief movies!). Dragon Lee is a bit too enthusiastic in imitating Bruce Lee’s facial expressions and sounds, but he packs a mean punch and that’s all that matters. And then there’s the matter of the bad guy getting his ass kicked quite literally and loosing his pants… Master Lee is not sure whether this scene is a plus for the movie (respect if you kick so hard, the guy on the receiving end looses his pants) or a minus (who wants to see the pasty bum of a bad guy anyway?). Judge for yourself. As long as the low print quality and the at times incomprehensible story line don’t put you off, Dragon and Ron will entertain you in this nicely made (for its budget then), run-off-the-mill late 70s punch-and-block flick. The Master was thrilled to see two of his esteemed colleagues going at it in Kung Fu Fever: Master Dragon and Master Ron. Thumbs up from the Master (and yes, Masters Dragon and Ron, despite the praise, Master Lee could open a can of whoop-ass on you if he choose to do so. But he’s in a generous mood today).

It is reported that Pokhŭi debuted at the age of five with the Nangnang Music Troupe at the Chungang Theatre. Three years later she joined the singer Hwang Chŏngja on stage. One year after the death of her mother in 1953, she recorded the song `I Miss You Mother’ (보고 싶은 엄마), which was  written by Son Mogin. An orphan at the age of thirteen, Pokhŭi decided she needed to make the best of her undeniable talent and successfully followed in her older brother’s footsteps.

At the age of seventeen, Yun performed at the opening of the Walker Hill in Seoul,where she performed on the same night as Louis Armstrong. Perhaps due to the success there (she is said to have made the audience laugh with her naughty imitation of Armstrong’s voice), she was asked to perform in the Phillippines and Singapore. In October 1964 the promotor Charles Owe asked her to join the vocal group called the “Korean Kittens”, which according to Sue Kim is likely to have been modelled after the Kim Sisters. Unlike the Sisters, however, the Korean Kittens did not play any instruments, and that is probably why their popularity only lasted a few years. After only one month of rehearsals, she joined the group on a tour to London where they performed on the BBC Tonight Show wearing a hanbok. When in January 1967 she returned to Korea and walked down the airplane’s frozen staircase wearing only a blouse and a mini skirt, the first worn by a public figure in Korea, it was such a noteworthy feat that the Shinsegye department store used the image in an advertisement in 1996. She has commented that she dressed up like that for her then husband, who she was separated from for long periods on end because of her overseas tours, and for that, dear Pokhŭi, Master Lee salutes you.

The Master was thoroughly entertained by this Charlie’s Angels rip off, that is much better than the original in all respects. Goofy effects (often unintended, but that’s what

Although essentially an attempt to piggyback on the success of Charlie’s Angels (that woefully overestimated, bland, gutless and predictable series, so sayeth the Master), Deadly Angels brings everything that the original couldn’t or wouldn’t. That being fights where people actually die, fights in which both parties get hurt, situations that get out of hand and breasts that get out of blouses. Yes, boys and girls, this is an (s)exploitation movie, albeit a very mild one, with nothing that would dull the senses or outrage the average viewer. As such, it is one of the earliest girls-with-guns flicks. And a very enjoyable one.

Three female agents (one from Hong Kong, one from Japan and one from South Korea, but all with Chinese names…) go undercover in a night club (yes, they were being set up by the scenario writer to show some flesh) to stop the nefarious activities of a diamond smuggling gang who are in the decidedly uneconomic habit of fatally slashing up the pretty young women that courier the merchandise around for them. The diamonds, btw, are hidden in the girls’ brassieres.

What our three female agents (and it hardly needs to be said very beautiful) lack in strategy, patience and investigative technique, they make more than up for with their enthusiasm, fighting skills and grit. Hence the pandemonium that quickly ensues, with our heroines being hit, shot at, sexually assaulted and having their clothes ripped from their bodies. But they always dole out more than they have to take. These women are for real. Far from being the smart-ass, koala-cuddly cuties of Charlie’s Angels, the three actresses (Chin Lan Chen, Nancy Yen and Dana/Tsen Shu-Yi) that star in this South-Korean/Hong Kong coproduction can actually pull a punch, kick an ass and expertly use cool weapons: a mini-crossbow, a belt buckle that turns into a modern-day mace and a high-heeled pump that also doubles as a catapult.

Fighting their way to the evil gang leader, they have to get past some pretty nasty characters, among whom bald actor Lee Hoi Sang 李海生. But this they do and the final fight is more than entertaining. Here are just a few memorable scenes.

1. When one of the diamond smuggling beauties arrives in Seoul, she goes to her hotel by cab. She is taking a shower when the telephone rings. She walks out of the bathroom with a towel that is too small ‘wrapped’ around her. Lying down seductively on the bed, she answers the phone, repeating ‘hello’ three times, each time with a more vacant and laboriously wrought look of not understanding on her pretty face. Priceless. The scene turns ugly when the knife-wielding chief bad guy pays her a visit and get so excited seeing her change clothes, he kills her with a three-bladed knife in a scene that resembles an orgiastic sex scene more than anything. Proving Freud right that a knife can function as a substitute penis penetrating the body (mmmh, the Master wonders, what about a three-bladed knife then?).

2. Also please notice the then still pretty ‘Yum Yum’ Shaw (Shaw Yin Yin 邵音音), one of the more formidable erotic actresses of Hong Kong in the 70s, star as a Korean gangster floozie pur sang and the Master must admit, she is convincing! She has a seductive yet nasty look in her eyes and more than fully deserves her death by komodo varan (just watch the movie).

3. The sunglasses of the love interest of one of the girls (the Hong Kong copper) and fellow kicker of criminal ass. Come on, even in 1977 this can’t exactly have been inconspicuous!

4. As if that isn’t enough, we get some nice scenes shot in Tokyo and Seoul in the late seventies! Groovy. But the best bonus is the presence of Evelyn Kraft (The Mighty Peking Man) as the police officer in charge. We don’t see much of her, but the Master was impressed. She kicks ass, smacks heads and jumps through windows (closed windows, that is) as it is daily fare (then again, maybe it is).

This early girls-with-guns film is very entertaining. The acting and the script aren’t exactly up to par (not to mention the editing: some very strange things must have happened in that editing room) and neither is the DVD edition (Greek subtitles that you can’t turn off?), but in the end that doesn’t matter. The three heroines plus one of Deadly Angels make this particular Shaw Brothers production masterly pulp in the eyes of the Master (and that’s all that matters now, is it not?). Master Lee has the sneaky suspicion that they are for real, unlike their counterparts in Charlie’s Angels. These girls don’t need a Charlie to tell them what to do or male stars to rescue them. They rescue themselves, take out 15 men in a fight single-handedly if necessary and look great while doing it. This movie may be from 1977 (and surely looks like it is), but it is considerably more fun than Charlie’s Angels: Full Throttle and the like. This is a seriously gritty movie in which the ketchup blood looks real, all too real, and the kicks and punches actually land. The Master was impressed.

PS Master Lee was somewhat mystified to notice that the English language  poster has what look like to be one blonde (that one’s easy, must be Evelyn Kraft, right), two white brunettes (?) and one afro-sporting black woman? What was going on there? Something wrong with the ethnicity of the three leading stars? Or a failed attempt to also tap into the blaxploitation movies of the early 70s? Strange, strange, strange.