All the Colors of Lady Avengers

Abstract

This project sheds light on the seemingly repressed, culturally lowbrow, ob/scene cinema viewing experience in Taiwan’s martial law period (1949-1987). Etymologically, the word “obscene” literarily means “off-stage.” I survey two alluring “sexy goddesses” in the so-called ob/scene films: Edwige Fenech, in the Italian Giallo film All the Colors of the Dark (Sergio Martino, 1972); and Shao-feng Lu 陸小芬, in the Taiwan Pulp film Lady Avenger 瘋狂女煞星 (Chia-Yun Yan 楊家雲, 1981). To be sure, I do not intend to reveal or represent a historical past in an educational manner. Nor do I require my audience to have in-depth knowledge of Taiwanese film history. The goal is to playfully reappropriate the ob/scene content, the spontaneous spectacles, and address (invisible) female viewers like me.

Bio

Birdy Wei-ting Hung is a M.F.A. candidate in School of Cinema at San Francisco State University. Her research interests include: body genres (i.e., horror, melodrama and pornography), affect theory, and the abject. She values both film production and critical theories. Birdy is a recipient of The Bill Nichols Scholarship for 2020 from the School of Cinema at SFSU. She has recently published in the online journal cinemedia. Her documentary, Dear Commuter (2020), was selected in the 23rd San Francisco Independent Film Festival.  

 

 

Introduction

Following World War II, Taiwan endured a 38 year-long martial law period (1949-1987). Throughout this period, female pleasure onscreen was deemed “obscene,” thus repressed by the nationalist government. However, if we take a look at the etymological root, as film scholar Linda Williams reminds us, the word “obscene” literally means “off-stage.” Indeed, the film history that is peddled in film history textbooks presents a sanitized version of Taiwanese film history, which was (and continues to be) overshadowed by the auteurism of the Taiwanese New Wave films on the international stage. While ob/scene cinema was rendered illegal, and thus kept “off-stage,” this material nevertheless found its way to the side, or in the spaces in-between. The allure of ob/scene material is potent, and audiences could find this material on Taiwanese big screens with surreptitious screenings.

In the denouement of Edward Yang’s 楊德昌 A Brighter Summer Day 牯嶺街少年殺人事件 (1991), our female adolescent protagonist, Ming 小明, was tragically killed by a teenage boy Sier 四兒. Prior to this incident, Sier was a well-mannered boy. Sier “punished” Ming with a tanto—a short, sharp knife often used for Japanese ritualistic disembowelment (seppuku)—because Ming had multiple affairs with boys in different gangs. A Brighter Summer Day, among other Taiwanese New Wave films, is internationally acclaimed for its realist aesthetic, long takes, and sympathetic portrayal of life.

By contrast, in Chia-Yun Yang’s 楊家雲 Lady Avenger 瘋狂女煞星 (1981), our female protagonist, Wan-Ching 婉清, executes her well-planned revenge with a long katana against the men who have wronged her. But not without final “punishment”—Wan-Ching was handcuffed and put in jail, restoring law and order. Lady Avenger was released a decade before Brighter. And, in fact, more than 117 lowbrow, sensational films lured Taiwanese audience to the big screens between 1979 to 1983. Suffused with brutal violence and alluring female bodies, film scholar Ting-Wu Cho 卓庭伍 termed these popular yet understudied films: “Taiwan Pulp films.”†

† Ting-Wu Cho 卓庭伍, “From Avengers to Desperate Wives: Women’s Movement, Taiwan Pulp, and the Transformation of Female Star Image (1979-1985)” 女性復仇與母性回歸: 1970年代後期臺灣新女性主義與社會寫實女星的形象轉變, Journal of Art Studies 藝術學研究 23 (December 2018): 53. Cho has coined the term “Taiwan Pulp film” to invoke the resonance between the Taiwanese exploitation films and pulp culture. For this reason, among many different terms such as “Taiwan Black Movies 臺灣黑電影,” “Social Realism films 社會寫實片,” and “Taiwan B-movies,” I follow Cho’s terms of “Taiwan Pulp film” to connote pulp culture and emphasize the low cultural status of these deemed ob/scene films.

††

These two contrasted female characters—Ming and Wan-Ching—arouse my curiosity. On the one hand, Ming was killed for her promiscuity, yet Ming’s the-girl-next-door image has had longevity on international screens (and was digitally restored in 4K); while, on the other hand, Wan-Ching, alone with all the other seductive lady avengers in Taiwan Pulp films, are often described as a “dark page” of Taiwanese film history, and thus disposable. Although no explicit content was allowed to be displayed due to the censorship laws, it is readily assumed that female bodies onscreen served a male-based audience and their pleasure: Ming and Wan-Ching, as doomed tragic characters, were destined to be “punished” for their supposed transgressions. Ming and Wan-Ching’s pleasures are literally kept off-scene—female pleasures are disavowed. (Part of my interest here is to “reclaim” female pleasure, and to highlight the ways that women, as spectators, have had to glean pleasures from problematic representations.)

Cinema historically has not offered progressive representations of female pleasures. In her landmark essay, “Visual Pleasure and Narrative Cinema,” Laura Mulvey has exposed the mechanism of privileging the male gaze.† However, while Mulvey proclaims an aim to “[destroy] the satisfaction, pleasure and privilege of the ‘invisible guest’ [i.e., the voyeuristic male spectator],” female pleasures are paradoxically disavowed. The apparatus theory in the 1970s has not offered satisfactory answers to these questions: Onscreen, where are the female pleasures to be found? Off-stage, further, what about the (invisible) female viewers like me, our/my fantasies, and our/my pleasures?

† Laura Mulvey, “Visual Pleasure and Narrative Cinema,” Visual and Other Pleasures (Bloomington: Indiana University Press, 1989), 26.

 

 

 

 

 

If cinema is about seeing, it also fundamentally depends on a rhythm of not seeing, a pattern of recurrent obscurity that we could call flicker.†

 

 Tom Gunning, “Flicker and Shutter: Exploring Cinema’s Shuddering Shadow,” Indefinite Visions: Cinema and the Attractions of Uncertainty, ed. Martine Beugnet, Allan Cameron and Arild Fetveit. Edinburgh: Edinburgh University Press: 53-68.

Arnulf Rainer (Peter Kubelka, 1960).

Funeral Parade of Roses 薔薇の葬列 (Toshio Matsumoto 松本俊夫, 1969)

I adore Toshio Matsumoto, the Japanese avant-garde artist and scholar, whose feature film Funeral Parade of Roses playfully switches between multiple points in time. Aesthetically, Matsumoto is keen to craft a dialectic and affective relationship between cinema and the viewer with cinematic techniques. For instance, in a sex scene in Roses, the protagonist’s haunting memories, his fantasies, and the intimate sex acts are interwoven via flickering effects. Some of the images only last a few frames of screen time, yet they are strongly affective—we sense them before they register into our cognitive process. Locating affect in Matsumoto’s works thus largely influences my creative process. Furthermore, Matsumoto brings the viewer’s awareness to the materiality of cinema: image onscreen is not the representation of historical past, but always a re-presentation of reality. In a similar fashion, my project should not be treated as a revealing of the “off-stage,” historical past, but a re-imagination, a fantasy of Taiwan’s ob/scene film history.

Ob/scene Film Screening in Martial Law Period’s Taiwan (1949-1987)

Following WWII and lasting until almost the end of the Cold War, Taiwan’s martial law period (1949-1987) is one of the longest in modern history. While the nationalist government implemented film censorship laws, it would be incorrect to say that adult cinema was never screened for the public. In her dissertation, “Analysis of Erotic Film Viewing (1968-1988): From Social, Cultural and Gender Perspective,” Hsuan-En Chan offers a Foucauldian framework to investigate the complex power dynamic beyond the so-called sexually repressive past.† Although rendered off-screen, Chan argues, the relationship between the governmental surveillance system and adult film theaters is best described as a never-ending “cat and mouse” game. Chan interviews not only adult film audiences, but also a domestic adult film performer, as well as a former owner of an adult film theater in its heyday. According to Chan’s research, starting from the 1950s, theaters would pretend to screen a regular film, yet insert ob/scene sequences that were not related to the film content whatsoever. The timing of the insertion of these “bonus” sequences depended on surveillance schedules: ob/scene scenes could, for example, take center stage during the interim when the commissioner from the Government Information Office (GIO) handed over shifts or simply was not present. Besides staying abreast of governmental staff schedules, adult cinema theaters also adopted their own watch-guard system: electric bells were installed in the projecting room so that the ticket counter staff (usually the theater owner) could warn the projectionist when the police arrived. Some theaters simply prepared two sets of projecting systems in order to conveniently switch between the regular film and the ob/scene sequences.

One might consider this viewing experience to be similar to how Tyler Durden (Brad Pitt) shocked the middle-class audience in Fight Club (David Fincher, 1999) by inserting “single frames of pornography into a family film,”†† yet this is not exactly an accurate comparison. The adult cinema audiences, according to Chan’s research, were not middle-class families, nor did they expect a regular family movie. For the male-dominated, middle-age audience base, these inserted ob/scene sequences were the flesh, the excitement. In fact, as Chan’s interviewees recall, this unique mode of adult film screening had arguably become an alternative norm: even if the police disrupted the screening, the moviegoers with know-how would stay in their seats, as the ob/scene spectacles would be screened again “against” the (ob/) scene of police departure.

Notably, despite the fact that ob/scene films targeted male adult audiences, female viewers did exist. Moreover, adolescent viewers also made up a share of the market, arguably due to the lack of a film rating system until the late 1980s.

What obsessed the adult cinema audiences was not so much the narrative, which was, on the one hand, heavily edited by the film censorship bureau, and, on the other, constantly interrupted by the ob/scene inserts during screening. Instead, it seems that Gunning’s “cinema of attractions” was at work: “the attraction invokes an exhibitionist rather than a voyeuristic regime. The attraction directly addresses the spectator, acknowledging the viewer’s presence and seeking to quickly satisfy a curiosity.”†††

† Hsuan-En Chan 詹璇恩, “Analysis of Erotic Film Viewing (1968-1988): From Social, Cultural and Gender Perspective” 怎能看到!為何要看?色情觀影的社會文化與性別分析(1968~1988), Master’s thesis, Kaohsiung Medical University Graduate Institute of Gender Studies 高雄醫學大學性別研究所碩士論文, 2019. NTLTD. https://hdl.handle.net/11296/v3gm67. I thank Chan for generously sharing her thesis with me.

†† For this particular sequence in David Fincher’s Fight Club (1999), see YouTube video: “Fight Club movie brad pitt jobs scene,” uploaded by Curious stuff, Dec.13, 2014. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wS_pYyWp6I8&ab_channel=Curiousstuff.

†† Tom Gunning, “‘Now You See It, Now You Don’t’: The Temporality of the Cinema of Attractions,” in The Silent Cinema Reader, edited by Lee Grieveson and Peter Krämer (London: Routledge, 2004), 45.

 

 

Italian Giallo Films:

All the Colors of the Dark (Tutti i colori del buio, Sergio Martino, 1972)

Giallo means yellow in Italian. Connoting the yellow-covered pulp fiction novels, giallo films were largely produced in the 1960s-1970s. Common themes in giallo include: mysterious crime, detective elements, psychological thriller, and sexplotation. The murderer often remains unknown—typical whodunit structure.

With its lowbrow cultural status, giallo was not only popular in the domestic market, but reached to a wide range of international audiences. Edwige Fenech, for example, was one of the sexy Goddesses of giallo even in the martial law period of Taiwan. Fenech’s seductive figure openly lured the adult film fans in newspaper advertisement: “Pleasure is here!”

 

 

Upper: I peccati di Madame Bovary (The Sins of Madame Bovary, Hans Schott-Schöbinger, 1969), starring Italian Giallo film actress Edwige Fenech. Taiwanese newspaper movie ads, likely in the 1970s.

Lower: On the Society File of Shanghai 上海社會檔案 (Chu-Chin Wang 王菊金, 1981), starring Taiwanese sexy goddess Shiao-Feng Lu 陸小芬.

Echoing the “golden age” of adult cinema in the U.S., Chan frames the late 60s through the late 80s as the “theater stage” of adult cinema history in Taiwan, until VHS turned public events into private pleasures in the late 80s. In this period, while film censorship law heavily edited any imported film and forbade domestic adult film production, screen quota policy indirectly supported the smuggling and circulation of foreign adult films. As Chan insists, repressive governance can be approached as (indirectly) productive. The paradoxical status of these ob/scene films was revealed in newspaper movie ads: On the one hand, any films containing ob/scene content were illegal; on the other, the seductive “foreign” figures openly allured audiences with highly exaggerated slogans.† Although usually years after their domestic screening date, American exploitation films, Japanese Pinku eiga, West-Germany softcore sex-educational films, Italian Giallo films and Nazi sexploitation films were smuggled into Taiwan. Notably, the aforementioned “inserts” continued. In accordance with film censorship, adult film theaters developed several methods to display the ob/scene spectacle: they could put back the original, cut-out sequences; insert ob/scene sequences of smuggled foreign films; insert domestically produced ob/scene sequences, which roughly matched the plot of the regular film. Even the newspaper movie ads openly declared: “Pleasure is here!” The “cat and mouse” game continued: an unlucky film buff might fail to anticipate or ascertain when the theater was under police surveillance. Sometimes you see it, sometimes you don’t.

† Hsuan-En Chan 詹璇恩, “Analysis of Erotic Film Viewing (1968-1988): From Social, Cultural and Gender Perspective” 怎能看到!為何要看?色情觀影的社會文化與性別分析(1968~1988), Master’s thesis, Kaohsiung Medical University Graduate Institute of Gender Studies 高雄醫學大學性別研究所碩士論文, 2019. NTLTD: 79-95.

Taiwan Pulp films:

Lady Avengers 瘋狂女煞星 (Chia-Yun Yang 楊家雲, 1981)

In the five years from 1979 to 1983, more than 117 exploitation films were domestically produced in Taiwan. Suffused with alluring female bodies and brutal violence—corrupt bureaucrats turned a blind-eye to illicit material and rebellious outlaws skirted censorship regulations—these sensational works were popular and held successful box office records. Film scholar Ting-Wu Cho coined the term, “Taiwan Pulp films,” to invoke connections between these lowbrow and cheaply produced films and the American pulp tradition.†

On the one hand, Taiwan Pulp films carefully danced around film censorship, legally attracting its audience to the big screen; on the other hand, their true-crime reenactments and spectacular displays of sexual violence were deemed “obscene” by the nationalist government, and many film scholars have sidelined them as abject—an unwanted piece of a national film history that should be kept off-stage.

 

Ting-Wu Cho 卓庭伍, “From Avengers to Desperate Wives: Women’s Movement, Taiwan Pulp, and the Transformation of Female Star Image (1979-1985)” 女性復仇與母性回歸: 1970年代後期臺灣新女性主義與社會寫實女星的形象轉變, Journal of Art Studies 藝術學研究 23 (December 2018): 53.

The off-stage, instant pleasure is embedded with political meaning. In the Taiwan case, social activists in the late 70s and 80s who urged abolishing martial law were harassed, jailed, and even possibly murdered by the despotic Kuomintang party (國民黨). The act of attending an illegal adult cinema screening could satisfy a rebellious curiosity without punishments. Not to mention the gender aspect: (in)visible female viewers and adolescent audiences did exist. †

Let us recall what Gunning coined “the temporality of attractions.” Compared to narrative-dominant films, Gunning observes,

Attractions, on the other hand, work with time in a very different manner. They basically do not build up incidents into the configuration with which a story makes its individual moment cohere. In effect, attractions have one basic temporality, that of the alternation of presence/absence that is embodied in the act of display. In this intense form of present tense, the attraction is displayed with the immediacy of a “Here it is! Look at it.”††

Interestingly, in his book Disposable Passions, David Church observes similar patterns of adult film screening in the U.S.: 

Since the early 1970s, exploitation film distributors might include hard-core inserts (typically filmed with stand-ins for the original actors) depending on the distribution region. After the emergence of theatrically exhibited hard-core material, limited pornographic content could be thus included as yet another source of spectacle in some exploitation films.†††

Despite the tremendously different political situations between Taiwan and the U.S., the (pornographic) spectacle, as Church notes, is at stake here, attracting its audience to satisfy their curiosity with instant pleasure. The “inserts”—more often than not featuring the spectacle of the female body—disrupted conventional narrative storytelling. And in quite literal terms. While scholars and critics often talk about the musical number or the sexual number interrupting narrative progression, these ob/scene inserts, which had no relation to the “officially” programmed screening, literally interrupted the publicly billed film. In accordance with film censorship, adult film theaters in Taiwan had developed several methods to display the ob/scene spectacles: they could put back the original material that Taiwanese censors cut-out; insert ob/scene sequences of smuggled foreign films; insert domestically produced ob/scene sequences, which roughly matched the plot of the regular film.

This never-ending “cat and mouse” game between the Taiwanese nationalist government and theater owners necessitated creative solutions to deliver adult content, exposing how repressive governance might productively generate an exciting off/scene viewing experience.

Hsuan-En Chan 詹璇恩, “Analysis of Erotic Film Viewing (1968-1988): From Social, Cultural and Gender Perspective” 怎能看到!為何要看?色情觀影的社會文化與性別分析(1968~1988), Master’s thesis, Kaohsiung Medical University Graduate Institute of Gender Studies 高雄醫學大學性別研究所碩士論文, 2019. NTLTD: 115.

†† Tom Gunning, “‘Now You See It, Now You Don’t’: The Temporality of the Cinema of Attractions,” in The Silent Cinema Reader, edited by Lee Grieveson and Peter Krämer (London: Routledge, 2004), 44.

††† David Church, “Introduction,” Disposable Passions: Vintage Pornography and the Material Legacies of Adult Cinema (Bloomsbury: London and New York, 2016), 20-21.

 

All the Colors of Lady Avengers

Italian Giallo Films and Taiwan Pulp Films

Different from the U.S. market, adult cinema in Taiwan fostered a fandom/stardom phenomenon. According to Chan’s research, among popular Italian Giallo film actresses such as Barbara Bouchet, Susan Scott, Femi Benussi, and others, Edwige Fenech had become the “sexy goddess” for adult cinema audiences in 1970s Taiwan.† In newspaper movie ads, the alluring figure of Edwige Fenech, or sometimes even just her name (愛雲芬芝), functioned as a “hint,” a trademark of sensationalism for the adult moviegoer. Promising a profitable box office, Fenech was so popular that theater owners would rename a formerly-screened Fenech film and screen it again without any modifications whatsoever. Distributors would also insert ob/scene sequences from other films starring Edwige Fenech, as Chan notes, to serve this alternative fandom market.††

Taiwan Pulp films were legally screened. However, even at their heyday in the late 70s and early 80s, the cultural status of Taiwan Pulp films, particularly the “woman takes revenge” sub-genre, remain ambiguous: somewhat restrained by self-surveillance of the filmmakers, these films passed the film censorship, but were still labelled as ob/scene entertainment. Inspired by the true crimes reported in newspapers, the stories unfold from the “dark corners” of society: suburbs, abandoned building sites, casinos, brothels, slaughterhouses, nightclubs, and other seedy establishments. Our protagonists are gangsters, prostitutes, gamblers, prisoners: in short, those that straddle the border of law and order. Dancing with the film censorship, filmmakers would locate the crime to take place in neighboring East Asian countries—somewhere other than Taiwan. For example, On the Society File of Shanghai starts at the borderline station in communist China; Woman Revenger 女性的復仇 (Chun Auyeung 歐陽俊, 1981) opens by displaying how a Taiwanese woman was murdered, found naked, in a Tokyo hot-spring hotel.†† An exception might be Lady Avenger 瘋狂女煞星 (Chia-Yun Yang 楊家雲, 1981), which situates the crimes in suburban areas in Taiwan, but it is implied that our protagonist came from Singapore. 

 

 

 

The alluring female figures in Taiwan Pulp films created a similar phenomenon as this alternative fandom among Giallo film actresses. Three prolific actresses—Yi-Chan Lu (陸一嬋), Shiao-Feng Lu (陸小芬), and Hui-Shan Yang (楊惠姍)—the so-called “two Lu’s and one Yang” (二陸一楊), occupied the newspaper movie ads of Taiwan Pulp films since the late 70s. A stardom mode of film production was adopted, after On the Society File of Shanghai 上海社會檔案 (Chu-Chin Wang 王菊金, 1981, starring Shiao-Feng Lu) hit the box office. Among 117 Taiwan Pulp films produced between 1979-1983, there were more than seventy films starring Shiao-Feng Lu and Hui-Shan Yang.††† With their seductive body figures, spicy outfits, and exaggerated slogans—Taiwan Pulp films invoked the collective memory of the Giallo sexy goddesses in adult cinema.

The “foreignness” in Taiwan Pulp films not only functions as a disclaimer for the filmmakers to avoid film censorship, but also keeps a buffering distance for the audience to stay safe from crime. To add to this, Taiwan Pulp films typically end with the arrival of the police force at a crime scene: with blood on their hands, the women who murder for revenge are handcuffed and put in jail—a physical and symbolic return to law and order.††††

 

† Ting-Wu Cho 卓庭伍, “From Avengers to Desperate Wives: Women’s Movement, Taiwan Pulp, and the Transformation of Female Star Image (1979-1985)” 女性復仇與母性回歸: 1970年代後期臺灣新女性主義與社會寫實女星的形象轉變, Journal of Art Studies 藝術學研究 23 (December 2018): 63.

†† Ibid, 86.

††† Kelly Y.L. Yang 楊元鈴, the producer of documentary Taiwan Black Movies 臺灣黑電影 (Chi-Jan Hou 侯季然, 2005), first pointed this out in an introductory video for the online showcase “Taiwan B-Movies.” See “TAIWAN B-MOVIES Introduced by HOU Chi-jan and Kelly Y.L. Yang,” Vimeo Showcase, post by Anthology Film Archives December 2, 2020. Accessed December 3, 2020. https://vimeo.com/showcase/taiwanbmovies.

†††† Cho, “From Avengers to Desperate Wives,” 54.

The emotional and physiological responses elicited by the Taiwan Pulp films are not triggered by the release of accumulative tension, which can be found in classical, realistic narrative films. However, the editing style is still ruled by continuity. Therefore, wherever the film censorship section or a self-surveillance editor cut out the ob/scene shots, a “jump” can be sensed, even as it is quickly effaced by another spectacle. The materialized traces of film censorship law during the martial law period in Taiwan can thus be felt, uncannily, through the absence of the “cut-out” shots. The discontinuity of soundscape also betrays the invisible hands of governmental power. According to film censorship law, the cut-outs are removed due to their ability to arouse ob/scene pleasure. For example, comparing the two extant versions of Lady Avenger, the recognizable cut-outs include: a close-up of a bloody slaughter hook penetrating a human breast, close-ups of pig organs, sequences of shots displaying up-hanging, penetrated dead bodies, and more. The traces of cut-outs do not exclusively apply to Taiwan Pulp films, but many films screened throughout Taiwan’s martial period. The feelings of these “jumps” signifies the surveillance of film censorship, interrupting the narratives. In a way, these “cut-outs” reverberate with the aforementioned “inserts” in earlier adult cinema viewing experiences, yet they do not stop the curiosity to be satisfied by the next spectacle.

Works Cited

Chan, Hsuan-En 詹璇恩. “Analysis of Erotic Film Viewing (1968-1988): From Social, Cultural and Gender Perspective” 怎能看到!為何要看?色情觀影的社會文化與性別分析(1968~1988). Master’s thesis, Kaohsiung Medical University, Graduate Institute of Gender Studies 高雄醫學大學性別研究所碩士論文, 2019. NTLTD. https://hdl.handle.net/11296/v3gm67.  

Cho, Ting-Wu 卓庭伍. “From Avengers to Desperate Wives: Women’s Movement, Taiwan Pulp, and the Transformation of Female Star Image (1979-1985)” 女性復仇與母性回歸: 1970年代後期臺灣新女性主義與社會寫實女星的形象轉變.  Journal of Art Studies 藝術學研究 23 (December 2018): 51-98.

Church, David. Disposable Passions: Vintage Pornography and the Material Legacies of Adult Cinema. Bloomsbury: London and New York, 2016.

Gunning, Tom. “Cinema of Attraction[s]: Early Film, Its Spectator and the Avant-Garde.” In The Cinema of Attractions Reloaded, edited by Wanda Strauven, 381-388. Amsterdam: Amsterdam University Press, 2006.

Gunning, Tom. “Flicker and Shutter: Exploring Cinema’s Shuddering Shadow,” Indefinite Visions: Cinema and the Attractions of Uncertainty, ed. Martine Beugnet, Allan Cameron and Arild Fetveit. Edinburgh: Edinburgh University Press: 53-68.

Gunning, Tom “‘Now You See It, Now You Don’t’: The Temporality of the Cinema of Attractions.” In The Silent Cinema Reader, edited by Lee Grieveson and Peter Krämer, 41-50. London: Routledge, 2004. 

Hou, Chi-Jan 侯季然. “‘Taiwan Black Movies’—The Making and Meaning of a Documentary” 「台灣黑電影」紀錄片之創作與意義. Master thesis, National Chengchi University, Department of Radio and Television, 2006. 

Mulvey, Laura. “Visual Pleasure and Narrative Cinema,” Visual and Other Pleasures. Bloomington: Indiana University Press, 1989.

 

Filmography

All the Colors of the Dark, dir. Sergio Martino, 1972, 97 mins.

Arnulf Rainer, dir. Peter Kubelka, 1960, 7 mins.

Fight Club, dir. David Fincher, 1999, 151 mins.

“Fight Club movie brad pitt jobs scene,” YouTube video, post by Curious stuff Dec.13, 2014. Accessed December 18, 2020. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wS_pYyWp6I8&ab_channel=Curiousstuff.

Funeral Parade of Roses 薔薇の葬列, Toshio Matsumoto 松本俊夫, 1969, 105 mins.

Lady Avenger 瘋狂女煞星, dir. Chia-Yun Yang 楊家雲, 1981, 91 mins.

On the Society File of Shanghai 上海社會檔案:少女初夜權, dir. Chu-Ching Wang 王菊金, 1981, 99 mins.

Taiwan Black Movies 台灣黑電影, dir. Chi-Jan Hou 侯季然, 2005, 60 mins.

 “TAIWAN B-MOVIES Introduced by HOU Chi-jan and Kelly Y.L. Yang,” Vimeo Showcase, post by Anthology Film Archives December 2, 2020. Accessed December 3, 2020. https://vimeo.com/showcase/taiwanbmovies.

 

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