| Who can resist a film with a title like Oily Maniac (1976)? Not me, that’s for damn sure. Throw in a DVD cover featuring a close-up of a rampaging sludge beast, à la Swamp Thing, and my viewing plans for the evening are set.
What we’ve got here is a sort of ludicrous superhero movie in which the protagonist is an unstoppable serial killer. Sound like an ethically questionable premise? You bet! Danny Lee (John Woo’s The Killer, 1989) stars as a polio-afflicted legal assistant who becomes the titular avenger/menace. Whenever he drenches himself in oil, the mild-mannered Sheng Yung (Lee) transforms into a dripping, glistening monster that can ooze through tight spaces, is immune to knives and bullets and can regenerate amputated limbs in the blink of an eye. He uses this transformative ability to kill people he doesn’t like, which this film supplies plenty of.
The onscreen text that introduces Oily Maniac informs us that the story is based on traditional folklore, and that it carries the message that justice will always prevail. Disregard this message. The movie certainly does. In fact, it tries to distract you from reading it, by having the Oily Maniac jump out of a black puddle and go "Raawwrr!" From there, the film goes to a coconut-oil factory, where a business-related argument gets way out of hand, to the point where opposing sides are brandishing knives and monkey wrenches. The meanies who start the fight even try to rape sweet young virgin Little Yue (Chen Ping) right there in the factory, in front of dozens of witnesses. Her daddy comes to the rescue and accidentally kills one of the assailants in the ensuing melee.
Half an hour before Yue’s dad is to be executed for murder, he calls in Sheng and shows him an elaborate tattoo on his back. It’s a magic incantation for turning yourself into the Oily Maniac, y’see, and Sheng feverishly copies it down before the condemned man is led away. Following the tattoo’s instructions, Sheng digs a hole in the floor of his house, gets in it, and chants. Black oil seeps in from the ground, filling the hole and submerging Sheng completely. He emerges as the Oily Maniac, ready to pound evildoers to death with his slippery, petroleum-based fists.
The OM’s first attack is against the sleazy would-be rapists who break into Little Yue’s house in order to finish what they started. After that, he’s a little less picky about choosing his victims. After each act of squelchy justice/murder, the OM stomps home and transforms back into Sheng on crutches. Whenever he wants to squish another bad guy, he dives into an oil drum or sprays diesel all over himself and changes back into the sludgy avenger. Grrrrr.
In addition to some laughably confused morality and a truly goofy monster costume, (you can see where the sleeves end), Oily Maniac also offers a surprising plethora of bare breasts. The appearance of topless actresses isn’t really frequent so much as it is unexpected. Them titties just seem to pop up in the weirdest places. Director Ho Meng-Hua (Flying Guillotine, 1974) apparently thinks that no scene is either too mundane or too outré to include a pair of jiggling boobs. This adds an extra dash of what-the-hell?! to the proceedings, as if any more of such were necessary.
Oily Maniac may be a terrible movie, but it’s the type of terrible movie I can have a lot of fun with. If you’re the sort of person who’s prepared to scour Chinatown for a DVD copy based solely on the description above, you’ll probably have fun with it, too.
Want to read more? Then check out Andrew Grossman’s brilliant and mind-boggling article "What we talk about when we talk about Ho Meng-Hua" on the subject of Oily Maniac, morality, exploitation, art, philosophy and pretty much everything else at www.brightlightsfilm.com/43/oily.htm. Grossman starts out by reluctantly explaining his disappointment with the film before flying off the rails completely, splitting into two contrasting but astonishingly intellectual viewpoints, and then arguing with himself over increasingly off-topic subjects for almost 22,000 words! Here’s an excerpt, halfway through the mammoth novel-length film review and about 12 pages after last mentioning the film:
"Okay, now you’ve really made me lose my place. What were we talking about before?
– Science and religion, the depersonalization of charisma, the form of celebrities…?
Yes, the form of celebrities. We must stop digressing."
Even if you don’t finish reading it, and even if you never watch Oily Maniac, you owe it to yourself to take a look at this article – it’s like nothing you’ve ever read. Better yet, plagiarize it for your master’s thesis! |
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