Tuesday, August 31, 2010

Watch Dancing with the Stars Season 11

Dancing with the Stars Season 11

The reality TV show is back again on 11th season premiering on September 20, 2010. It was announced by Tom Bergeron at the conclusion of season 10. Fans get ready yourselves to groove with the coming of ABC Dancing with the Stars Season 11 on our television set again.

In 5 4 3 2 1. Are you ready for season 11?

I know your body is shaking and ready to get with the music. Our wait is over and we will be seeing new casts and member of this season. The all new season of Dancing with the Stars Season 11 is comprised of 12 episodes.

History of Porn Films

According to Patrick Robertson, Film Facts ,"the earliest pornographic motion picture which can definitely be dated is A L'Ecu d'Or ou la bonne auberge", made in France in 1908 . The story depicts a weary soldier who establish a relationship with a female servant in an inn. El Satario from Argentina maybe even older . The film was probably made between 1907 and 1912 .


Robertson noted that "the oldest surviving pornographic films are contained in America's Kinsey Collection." One film demonstrates how early pornographic conventions were established. The German film Am Abend (1910) is a ten-minute film which begins with a woman masturbating alone in her bedroom, and progresses to scenes of her with a man performing straight sex, fellatio and anal penetration.
Many porn movies like that are made in the next decades , but because of the nature of manufacture and distribution are usually secret, details of such films are often difficult to obtain.


Australian erotic movies made on 1906
Mona (also known as Mona the Virgin Nymph ) , a 59 - minute film in 1970 is generally recognized as an explicit porn film first and have the plot, which was released in cinemas in the U.S. . The film stars Bill Osco and Howard Ziehm , who then makes a porn movie heavy ( or light, depending on the version circulated ) , with a relatively high budget , the film Flesh Gordon.

1971 film The Boys in the Sand may be cited as the "first" in a number of matters relating to pornography . The film is generally regarded as the first film depicting gay porn scene . This film is also the first porn film to include the names of the cast and crew on the screen ( although generally use a pseudonym ) . This is also the first porn film to make a parody of the usual movie titles ( the title of this movie The Boys in the Band ) . And this is the first X -class porn film made by the New York Times review .

Deep Throat is an American pornographic movie released in 1972 , written and directed by Gerard Damiano and starring Linda Lovelace ( the pseudonym of Linda Susan Boreman ) .
Deep Throat short story begins when a woman is sexually frustrated ( Linda Lovelace ) asked for advice to his friend Helen ( Dolly Sharp) after a sex party did not help , Helen recommends Linda to go to a doctor ( Harry Reems ) . This doctor said that Linda's clitoris in her throa. 
In various places in the U.S. , this film was accused of spreading pornography. Actor Harry Reems was found guilty of disseminating indecent material to the outer limit states.

Since the beginning of film history , many people have appeared in various sex films in Europe and Asia . early porn films from the 1900s are usually rotated by hand , and the characters usually do not want to be known because of social pressure . The first of the U.S. porn star whose stage name is Linda Lovelace , famous for his film of the year 1972 Deep Throat . The film was produced hundreds of millions of dollars worldwide , and start the adult film industry with actresses like Marilyn Chambers ( Behind the Green Door ) , Gloria Leonard (The Opening of Misty Beethoven ) , Georgina Spelvin ( The Devil in Miss Jones ) , and Bambi Woods ( Debbie Does Dallas ) .
Mid to late 1980s called The Golden Age of Porn , when a lot of porn actors and actresses such as John Holmes , Ginger Lynn Allen , Traci Lords , Veronica Hart , Nina Hartley , Wipe , and Amber Lynn to fame . With the start of the DVD era in the late 1990s , appear the names like Jenna Jameson , July Ashton, Ashlyn Gere , Asia Carrera , Tera Patrick , Briana Banks, Stacy Valentine, Jill Kelly and Silvia Saint .

Regarding the term anal to mouth in the adult film industry

Ass to mouth , or more popular in the world of pornography in terms of ass to mouth is the act of depriving a penis or other object into the anus and mouth . Also known by the acronym A2M , ATM , or ass - to- Mouth . The penis is usually not cleaned before put into the mouth .

Ass to mouth became famous at around the year 2003 and 2004 by Max Hardcore in the movie series " Cherry Poppers " , and performed by Taylor Hayes , Alisha Klass and Samantha Stylle in the Seymore Butts movies .

Circulation of a movie called " Ass to Mouth " by Heatwave / Horizon in 2000 began making it famous in the world of pornography . Heatwave / Horizon and also distribute the series ' ATMs Girls " in the same year . In 2003 and 2004 A2M fame peaked with several series such as " A2M " ( 2003 , Anabolic ) and "The ATM Machine " ( 2003 , Digital Sin ) . Python also release another film titled " Ass to Mouth "in 2003 , starring adult film star amateur Mixdorf Pat . By 2005 , A2M fame began to fade with Heatwave / Horizon stop the series " Ass to Mouth "in 2005 after " Ass to Mouth # 15 . " Although not as famous as the first, A2M is still often found in a variety of porn movies .

Among the famous porn star , some have been doing in film

Another Moon Patrol


Monday, August 30, 2010

Watch Camp Rock 2 - The Final Jam Movie Online

Camp Rock 2 - Final Jam
Watch Camp Rock 2 The Final Jam on September 3, 2010 in US, Sept. 17 in UK, Oct. 2 in Australia. The group is back for their final act. Catch Demi Lovato and the Jonas Brothers (Joe, Nick & Kevin) in this Disney Channel upcoming film.

Camp Rock 2 The Final Jam is directed by Paul Hoen, produced Kevin Lafferty & Allan Sacks and film screenplay penned by Dan Berendsen, Karin Gist, Regina Y. Hicks, Paul Brown & Julie Brown.

Watch Camp Rock 2 The Final Jam Trailer



What do you think of Camp Rock final jam? The film as Mitchie returns back to the Camp Rock while Shane with his brothers Jason and Nate are stuck which forced them to used a way to to get back on camp. Mitchie changed the camp to a more intriguing camp wars.

Catch Camp Rock and see the showdown of musical talents as we Watch Camp Rock 2 - The Final Jam Movie. So excited!

Watch Covert Affairs Season 1 Episode 8

Covert Affairs Season 1

Watch Covert Affairs Season 1 Episode 8 on August 31, 2010. The new episode of USA Network Covert Affairs television series entitled "What Is and What Should Never Be".

The Covert Affairs TV series stars Piper Perabo, Christopher Gorham, Kari Matchett, Anne Dudek and Sendhil Ramamurthy. Don't miss the new episode of Covert Affairs this Tuesday!

Watch Covert Affairs Season 1 Episode 8 Preview




The Covert Affairs Season 1 Episode 8 plot follows Annie after she witnesses a suspicious purchase at an art auction, her follow-up brings a surprise visitor; Ben Mercer (Eion Bailey), back into her life.

Don't miss it and Watch Covert Affairs Season 1 Episode 8 on Tuesday. What do you think will happen?

Charlie Chan, No. 42 - The Chinese Ring (1947)


It sure took those Monogram mofos long enough to decide upon a new Charlie Chan, following star Sidney Toler’s violation of contract by way of death. I mean, it took ‘em a full three-quarters of a year! They could’ve made three whole Charlie Chan movies in that time! The latest obvious Caucasian the Mono majors happened upon to portray their increasingly-anachronistic Asian detective was career-challenged actor Roland Winters. In Roland we have the youngest actor to ever play Chan, at the juvenile age of forty-four. Hell, he’s younger even than Keye Luke, who would make his delayed, triumphant return as Chan’s son in one of Winters’ later films.


Here we have, even on one film’s evidence, a rather underwhelming non-thespian, doing an impersonation of Sidney Toler’s impersonation of Warner Oland’s racist parody of the Chinese. It doesn’t help that Roland has the whitest face of any Chan, and his attempt at Chan’s traditional halting English comes across more as a French accent than anything else. Really, it’s like a bad version of Claude Rains in Casablanca.

The artistic failure of Roland’s performance, coupled with the already-impoverished creativity of the Mono-Chans, coupled with unrelated company troubles…well, all this coupled to make Roland’s six-film run the absolute final chapter in the 47-film Charlie Chan saga. It’s amazing. They found the lowest note possible to bow on out.


The only film I can find from Roland’s tenure is his first, The Chinese Ring. It is mostly of a piece with the recent Monogram bores; indeed, Roland’s presence is the only unique element, the rest of Chan’s regular cast as present as ever (those being, at this point, Mantan Moreland as chauffeur and Chanservant Birmingham Brown, and Victor Sen Yung as…as…). Here I have to break off the parenthetical to address Yung. He had been reprising his old Fox role as “No. 2 Son” Jimmy, only now he’s playing…“No. 2 Son” Tommy. Even though “Tommy” previously had been the “No. 3 Son,” and was played by Benson Fong. Name aside, this Tommy is really Jimmy. It was apparently just Monogram’s illogical effort to avoid continuity “confusion,” as relates back to the lead actor switch. Really, they should have done as before, and gone to a new “No. 5 Son” (“No. 4” having previously been used). This is indicative of Monogram’s overall regard to film quality.

What’s interesting about Roland Winters (it sure ain’t his performance) is how his skills necessitate a new kind of Chan. Simply put, this is a Chan where Chan himself is functional (or as much so as Monogram can muster), and not struggling to remain alive through the present take. So the focus is back on Chan, with a reduction of screen time for Mantan. Jimmy – er, sorry, Tommy – has essentially nothing to do whatsoever, and a concurrent drop in screen time.


Let’s plow through this, and put an end to Chan once and for all! A Chinese princess of all things, Mei Ling, pays Charlie Chan a visit at his new home in San Francisco (his 14-strong brood in Honolulu apparently long ago abandoned to the elements). She says as few lines as Monogram was willing to pay for, then just drops dead. Of what, I’m at a loss to say, because things just happen now. But she’s helpfully sketched out the designated one-per-entry clue: “CAPT K.” What is that, a 1980s corporate superhero mascot for Konami?

It turns out the murdered Princess (this movie killed a princess) was (in)conveniently friends with two Captains K: Captain Kong (something else which reminds me of the 8-bit era) and Captain Kelso (um…“That '70s Show” now). I’d’ve just scrawled out the man’s name instead, in this scenario, and eschewed the life-wasting “Captain” thing entirely.


Chan’s so-called investigation leads him to a meeting with the barrel-lugging Kong (I’m serious – the man oversees a freighter full of barrels). It’s not until halfway through that Chan the genius is able to parse out Kelso’s existence…long after the audience has figured it out. Yeah, Chan’s pretty inconsequential in this thing. And (spoiler), the Captains K are indeed ko-konspirators. The obvious villains are the villains! So much for trick endings (even in the light of a “trick ending” with a third nogoodnik).

The Kaptain K konnection yet to kome, Chan idles away screen time at the Princess’ seedy Chinatown apartment – Just what sort of a princess was this?! He Chan-chats the landlady about the Princess’ movements – her whereabouts, that is. This leads to scenes I don’t intend to recap which reveal the “motive” today koncerns bank fraud. After Dangerous Money’s thrilling currency fraud motivations, no less!


Time having passed, and Kelso having been Chan-chatted, Chan returns to the apartment (limited sets), for a lengthy kreeping scene. This klimaxes with the unkovery of a korpse – the landlady. This was all to be expected. Then Chan heads to the rooftop, as the filmmakers toss another death our way – the brutal, violent death of a mute eight-year-old. Fun times! (All the victims in this movie have been Chinese, which somehow excuses the filmmakers from child murder, at least in 1940s terms.)


Charlie Chan just flat out isn’t going to solve the mystery this time, as he is apparently plagued with as much ennui regarding his own franchise as I am. The Kaptains konsent, though, by setting up a devious ambush for Chan. They call him on the phone and request a meeting, then take him hostage with a pistol. The Chan of even a few years ago would’ve easily sniffed out this ploy, but Roland’s ineffectual yellowface routine cannot. Either that, or he’s thoroughly genre aware, trusting he’ll come out okay regardless.

The Kaptains bind Chan, with intent of drowning, as he is hauled out to Kong’s kargo kraft. The only reason, and I mean only reason Chan is eventually saved is because koincidentally the kops have followed his trail – for reasons having nothing to do with the “mystery,” mind you. Just because. (It’s In the Script, other websites would say.) And when the kops korner the Kaptains, they resolve the plot in a decidedly period way: punching. I imagine most of Monogram’s output is phenomenally punch-happy, in a way the Chans never were, and The Chinese Ring seems to be a part of that philosophy. You could make a drinking game of it. It’s not exactly “action,” even in the Monogram sense of the matter, but apparently the sort of cheap, repeatable thrill 1940s exploitation could be built on – Scene can’t end? Punch a character in the face! Hell, even the women get punched!

Kaptains kaptured, the movie now just has to go out on a joke. And since WWII is over, the world’s ethnics well subdued, Monogram happens upon the new post-war enemy all right-thinking Americans should rally against: women. I’m serious, I’m almost sad to miss out on the burgeoning sexism The Trap parlayed to such extremes. And so Chan’s final aphorism is a supposedly humorous comment meant to disparage an entire gender: “A woman not made for heavy thinking, but should decorate scene like delicate plum.” And I do love how the series manages to fade from my life in a moment that is simultaneously anti-woman and anti-Chinese (and possibly anti-black too).

******************************************

That’s the end for me, but Roland would do five more Chan movies before the series’ lengthy death spasms would take it to the grave. Unable to waste another week of my live viewing these terminal wrecks, I am limited to doing research…

Docks of New Orleans (1948) – Charlie Chan takes his particular brand of ineffectual sleuthing to New Orleans, where a businessman named Lafontanne (all businessmen in New Orleans are so named) seeks Chan’s help, fearing for his own life. What Lafontanne doesn’t know is that Chan is of no use until you are already dead. And with the poor man murdered, Chan uncovers a chemical-stealing gang which is improbably killing people through a peculiar combination of radio signals, glass beakers, and mass-broadcasts of opera arias. It sounds equal parts The Scarlet Clue and Halloween III: Season of the Witch.

Shanghai Chest (1948) – A San Francisco judge is stabbed to death via stabbing. The blade’s fingerprints belong to a man long-dead, executed at the judge’s Texas-like behest. More deaths proceed to occur surrounding the sentenced man’s trial – in alphabetical order. How’s that? Another anal retentive San Francisco serial killer Charlie Chan movie to inspire the real life Zodiac Killer, along with Charlie Chan at Treasure Island! In the end, it is the dead man’s twin who’s doing the killing, because we all know twins have the exact same fingerprints.

The Golden Eye (1948) – Charlie Chan battles a Russian crime head who intends to use a space-based satellite to stage an attack on London. Oh wait…

In actuality, it’s closer to Goldfinger…with a bit of A View to a Kill, which was just a Goldfinger rip-off anyway. Basically, gold-smuggling gold-smugglers are smuggling gold in a devious gold smuggling operation. The precise same plot convolutions as usual apply.

The Feathered Serpent (1948) – In the Chan equivalent of King Kong vs. Godzilla, Keye Luke and Victor Sen Yung appear in the same film as Chan’s sons. Mantan Moreland is in there too. I can only assume about five minutes of screen time were reserved somewhere for Roland.

As for the plot, it – Whoa! Chan et al are involved in an archeological expedition through Mexico’s Predator-ridden jungles in search of Aztec treasure (and missing archeologists)! With all the awesome ancient curses and bamboo booby traps later co-opted wholesale by the Indiana Jones movies! Apparently, somewhere in all this they are able to squeeze in the standard murder investigation we don’t give two Chan shits about.

The Sky Dragon (1948) – The final Chan film sees Luke return, but not Yung. Things start promisingly, with all the crew and passengers on an airliner passing out from spiked coffee – save for Chan and his son. But what might’ve been Airplane!, only racist, instead turns into, well…Charlie Chan. That is, stultifying investigations on land, with things only becoming interesting again towards the end as Chan performs his usual climatic Chanquest – aboard another crippled airliner. ‘Cause you gotta replicate the initial murder conditions perfectly!

And that was it for the franchise, though it was not Monogram’s intention to end Chan’s run here. In 1949, Winters and Luke went to England, where Monogram had funds tied up, with the intent that the series would continue production in Europe. Franchise death came in the form of British currency devaluation – Monogram momentum now monetarily mummified. Chan took a pounding, so to speak. Artistically, the series had been a zombie for a great many years. It was a purely financial endeavor, and thus to die financially makes perfect sense.

******************************************

One could say Chan’s cinematic potential was gone due to television – this was surely the official statement lobbied about by Monogram at the time. Thus it makes sense that someone would foolishly decide to resuscitate the Chan character as a TV series (totally unconnected to the preceding films). Enter yet another undignified white man, J. Carrol Naish, to play Chan in 1956’s poorly-rated “The New Adventures of Charlie Chan.” Even while the medium may have been the place for Chan, the times surely weren’t. There was just nothing pertinent or contemporary that could be done then. History had passed Charlie Chan by.


Chan still makes the occasional pop cultural reappearance, each attempt a predestined failure. Take for instance his next filmed flop, Hanna-Barbera’s 1972 animated series, “The Amazing Charlie Chan and the Chan Clan.” For the first time ever, an American “Chan” production used a Chinese actor to portray the Chan man – Keye Luke himself. But the focus was no longer on the obese Oriental, but on Chan’s ten children (and their dog Chu Chu), who traveled the world solving mysteries – while also playing in a rock band. It was just like every other Hanna-Barbera cartoon ever produced, with special note being made of “Scooby Doo.” I mean, “Scooby” scrupulously employed the constricting formula pioneered by the cinematic Chan. And Hanna-Barbera, ever the prolific producer of animated atrocities, could only eke sixteen episodes out of this premise. They oughtn’t to have tried.

Then in 1980, Jerry Shylock (who?) proposed a multi-million dollar comedy to star Chan, Charlie Chan and the Dragon Lady. The times now weren’t merely apathetic towards Chan, but outright hostile. Rabble-rousers C.A.N. (Coalition of Asians to Nix) opposed the production for its obvious racist issues (not to mention Peter Ustinov, yet another cracker, was to play Chan long, long, long after this stupid yellowface routine ought to have bit the dust). No matter, the re-titled Charlie Chan and the Curse of the Dragon Queen came out in 1981, and was an “abysmal failure.” Meaning it fits right in with the old series.

One year later say the equally unimpressive spoof, Charlie Chan is Missing (link not found). I’m not sure who in 1982 would have cared.

Nothing more has come of the property since then. Miramax obtained the film rights (for surely way too much money), with intent to create an edgy and radical Chan for the ‘90s. (Pardon my ridiculous guffawing.) Chan was to be “hip, slim, cerebral, sexy and…a martial-arts master.” In other words, nothing like he’s ever been before. Of course, knowing how studios pre-talk their properties, had this actually happened, it would’ve sucked.

Lucy Liu is presently struggling to force another Charlie Chan reboot out of the development hell it is rightly mired in. I honestly doubt remotely anything will come of this. I mean, why re-imagine the Chan character now, when the only thing anyone knows of him is the unfortunate implications? There’s just not enough positive name recognition for the sort of reboot treatment recently given to Sherlock Holmes…via Sherlock Holmes.

Of course, none of what came after The Sky Dragon is in any way a part of the franchise our focus has been on. That series, which passed from Fox on to Monogram and saw a staggering 47 entries, had been dead and buried since 1948. Any necessary connections, via actor, writer, director or studio are irreparably severed now. And since Chan has his origin in literature, anything to come has its inspiration due to Earl Derr Biggers. Yes, the Charlie Chan franchise is irreparably done with, and even new Chan films (ha!) couldn’t undo that.

******************************************

I’m done with Chan for good! WHOOOOOOO!!!!!

Let the drunkenness begin! (I don’t care if it’s a Tuesday morning.)


Related posts:
• No. 3 Behind That Curtain (1929)
• No. 4 Charlie Chan Carries On (1931)
• No. 5 The Black Camel (1931)
• No. 9 Charlie Chan in London (1934)
• No. 10 Charlie Chan in Paris (1935)
• No. 11 Charlie Chan in Egypt (1935)
• No. 12 Charlie Chan in Shanghai (1935)
• No. 13 Charlie Chan’s Secret (1936)
• No. 14 Charlie Chan at the Circus (1936)
• No. 15 Charlie Chan at the Race Track (1936)
• No. 16 Charlie Chan at the Opera (1936)
• No. 17 Charlie Chan at the Olympics (1937)
• No. 18 Charlie Chan on Broadway (1937)
• No. 19 Charlie Chan at Monte Carlo (1938)
• No. 20 Charlie Chan in Honolulu (1938)
• No. 21 Charlie Chan in Reno (1939)
• No. 22 Charlie Chan at Treasure Island (1939)
• No. 23 City in Darkness (1939)
• No. 24 Charlie Chan in Panama (1940)
• No. 25 Charlie Chan at the Wax Museum (1940)
• No. 26 Charlie Chan’s Murder Cruise (1940)
• No. 27 Murder Over New York (1940)
• No. 28 Dead Men tell (1941)
• No. 29 Charlie Chan in Rio (1941)
• No. 30 Castle in the Desert (1942)
• No. 31 Charlie Chan in the Secret Service (1944)
• No. 32 The Chinese Cat (1944)
• No. 33 Meeting at Midnight (1944)
• No. 34 The Shanghai Cobra (1945)
• No. 35 The Red Dragon (1945)
• No. 36 The Scarlet Clue (1945)
• No. 37 The Jade Mask (1945)
• No. 38 Dark Alibi (1946)
• No. 40 Dangerous Money (1946)
• No. 41 The Trap (1946)

Charlie Chan, No. 42 - The Chinese Ring (1947)


It sure took those Monogram mofos long enough to decide upon a new Charlie Chan, following star Sidney Toler’s violation of contract by way of death. I mean, it took ‘em a full three-quarters of a year! They could’ve made three whole Charlie Chan movies in that time! The latest obvious Caucasian the Mono majors happened upon to portray their increasingly-anachronistic Asian detective was career-challenged actor Roland Winters. In Roland we have the youngest actor to ever play Chan, at the juvenile age of forty-four. Hell, he’s younger even than Keye Luke, who would make his delayed, triumphant return as Chan’s son in one of Winters’ later films.


Here we have, even on one film’s evidence, a rather underwhelming non-thespian, doing an impersonation of Sidney Toler’s impersonation of Warner Oland’s racist parody of the Chinese. It doesn’t help that Roland has the whitest face of any Chan, and his attempt at Chan’s traditional halting English comes across more as a French accent than anything else. Really, it’s like a bad version of Claude Rains in Casablanca.

The artistic failure of Roland’s performance, coupled with the already-impoverished creativity of the Mono-Chans, coupled with unrelated company troubles…well, all this coupled to make Roland’s six-film run the absolute final chapter in the 47-film Charlie Chan saga. It’s amazing. They found the lowest note possible to bow on out.


The only film I can find from Roland’s tenure is his first, The Chinese Ring. It is mostly of a piece with the recent Monogram bores; indeed, Roland’s presence is the only unique element, the rest of Chan’s regular cast as present as ever (those being, at this point, Mantan Moreland as chauffeur and Chanservant Birmingham Brown, and Victor Sen Yung as…as…). Here I have to break off the parenthetical to address Yung. He had been reprising his old Fox role as “No. 2 Son” Jimmy, only now he’s playing…“No. 2 Son” Tommy. Even though “Tommy” previously had been the “No. 3 Son,” and was played by Benson Fong. Name aside, this Tommy is really Jimmy. It was apparently just Monogram’s illogical effort to avoid continuity “confusion,” as relates back to the lead actor switch. Really, they should have done as before, and gone to a new “No. 5 Son” (“No. 4” having previously been used). This is indicative of Monogram’s overall regard to film quality.

What’s interesting about Roland Winters (it sure ain’t his performance) is how his skills necessitate a new kind of Chan. Simply put, this is a Chan where Chan himself is functional (or as much so as Monogram can muster), and not struggling to remain alive through the present take. So the focus is back on Chan, with a reduction of screen time for Mantan. Jimmy – er, sorry, Tommy – has essentially nothing to do whatsoever, and a concurrent drop in screen time.


Let’s plow through this, and put an end to Chan once and for all! A Chinese princess of all things, Mei Ling, pays Charlie Chan a visit at his new home in San Francisco (his 14-strong brood in Honolulu apparently long ago abandoned to the elements). She says as few lines as Monogram was willing to pay for, then just drops dead. Of what, I’m at a loss to say, because things just happen now. But she’s helpfully sketched out the designated one-per-entry clue: “CAPT K.” What is that, a 1980s corporate superhero mascot for Konami?

It turns out the murdered Princess (this movie killed a princess) was (in)conveniently friends with two Captains K: Captain Kong (something else which reminds me of the 8-bit era) and Captain Kelso (um…“That '70s Show” now). I’d’ve just scrawled out the man’s name instead, in this scenario, and eschewed the life-wasting “Captain” thing entirely.


Chan’s so-called investigation leads him to a meeting with the barrel-lugging Kong (I’m serious – the man oversees a freighter full of barrels). It’s not until halfway through that Chan the genius is able to parse out Kelso’s existence…long after the audience has figured it out. Yeah, Chan’s pretty inconsequential in this thing. And (spoiler), the Captains K are indeed ko-konspirators. The obvious villains are the villains! So much for trick endings (even in the light of a “trick ending” with a third nogoodnik).

The Kaptain K konnection yet to kome, Chan idles away screen time at the Princess’ seedy Chinatown apartment – Just what sort of a princess was this?! He Chan-chats the landlady about the Princess’ movements – her whereabouts, that is. This leads to scenes I don’t intend to recap which reveal the “motive” today koncerns bank fraud. After Dangerous Money’s thrilling currency fraud motivations, no less!


Time having passed, and Kelso having been Chan-chatted, Chan returns to the apartment (limited sets), for a lengthy kreeping scene. This klimaxes with the unkovery of a korpse – the landlady. This was all to be expected. Then Chan heads to the rooftop, as the filmmakers toss another death our way – the brutal, violent death of a mute eight-year-old. Fun times! (All the victims in this movie have been Chinese, which somehow excuses the filmmakers from child murder, at least in 1940s terms.)


Charlie Chan just flat out isn’t going to solve the mystery this time, as he is apparently plagued with as much ennui regarding his own franchise as I am. The Kaptains konsent, though, by setting up a devious ambush for Chan. They call him on the phone and request a meeting, then take him hostage with a pistol. The Chan of even a few years ago would’ve easily sniffed out this ploy, but Roland’s ineffectual yellowface routine cannot. Either that, or he’s thoroughly genre aware, trusting he’ll come out okay regardless.

The Kaptains bind Chan, with intent of drowning, as he is hauled out to Kong’s kargo kraft. The only reason, and I mean only reason Chan is eventually saved is because koincidentally the kops have followed his trail – for reasons having nothing to do with the “mystery,” mind you. Just because. (It’s In the Script, other websites would say.) And when the kops korner the Kaptains, they resolve the plot in a decidedly period way: punching. I imagine most of Monogram’s output is phenomenally punch-happy, in a way the Chans never were, and The Chinese Ring seems to be a part of that philosophy. You could make a drinking game of it. It’s not exactly “action,” even in the Monogram sense of the matter, but apparently the sort of cheap, repeatable thrill 1940s exploitation could be built on – Scene can’t end? Punch a character in the face! Hell, even the women get punched!

Kaptains kaptured, the movie now just has to go out on a joke. And since WWII is over, the world’s ethnics well subdued, Monogram happens upon the new post-war enemy all right-thinking Americans should rally against: women. I’m serious, I’m almost sad to miss out on the burgeoning sexism The Trap parlayed to such extremes. And so Chan’s final aphorism is a supposedly humorous comment meant to disparage an entire gender: “A woman not made for heavy thinking, but should decorate scene like delicate plum.” And I do love how the series manages to fade from my life in a moment that is simultaneously anti-woman and anti-Chinese (and possibly anti-black too).

******************************************

That’s the end for me, but Roland would do five more Chan movies before the series’ lengthy death spasms would take it to the grave. Unable to waste another week of my live viewing these terminal wrecks, I am limited to doing research…

Docks of New Orleans (1948) – Charlie Chan takes his particular brand of ineffectual sleuthing to New Orleans, where a businessman named Lafontanne (all businessmen in New Orleans are so named) seeks Chan’s help, fearing for his own life. What Lafontanne doesn’t know is that Chan is of no use until you are already dead. And with the poor man murdered, Chan uncovers a chemical-stealing gang which is improbably killing people through a peculiar combination of radio signals, glass beakers, and mass-broadcasts of opera arias. It sounds equal parts The Scarlet Clue and Halloween III: Season of the Witch.

Shanghai Chest (1948) – A San Francisco judge is stabbed to death via stabbing. The blade’s fingerprints belong to a man long-dead, executed at the judge’s Texas-like behest. More deaths proceed to occur surrounding the sentenced man’s trial – in alphabetical order. How’s that? Another anal retentive San Francisco serial killer Charlie Chan movie to inspire the real life Zodiac Killer, along with Charlie Chan at Treasure Island! In the end, it is the dead man’s twin who’s doing the killing, because we all know twins have the exact same fingerprints.

The Golden Eye (1948) – Charlie Chan battles a Russian crime head who intends to use a space-based satellite to stage an attack on London. Oh wait…

In actuality, it’s closer to Goldfinger…with a bit of A View to a Kill, which was just a Goldfinger rip-off anyway. Basically, gold-smuggling gold-smugglers are smuggling gold in a devious gold smuggling operation. The precise same plot convolutions as usual apply.

The Feathered Serpent (1948) – In the Chan equivalent of King Kong vs. Godzilla, Keye Luke and Victor Sen Yung appear in the same film as Chan’s sons. Mantan Moreland is in there too. I can only assume about five minutes of screen time were reserved somewhere for Roland.

As for the plot, it – Whoa! Chan et al are involved in an archeological expedition through Mexico’s Predator-ridden jungles in search of Aztec treasure (and missing archeologists)! With all the awesome ancient curses and bamboo booby traps later co-opted wholesale by the Indiana Jones movies! Apparently, somewhere in all this they are able to squeeze in the standard murder investigation we don’t give two Chan shits about.

The Sky Dragon (1948) – The final Chan film sees Luke return, but not Yung. Things start promisingly, with all the crew and passengers on an airliner passing out from spiked coffee – save for Chan and his son. But what might’ve been Airplane!, only racist, instead turns into, well…Charlie Chan. That is, stultifying investigations on land, with things only becoming interesting again towards the end as Chan performs his usual climatic Chanquest – aboard another crippled airliner. ‘Cause you gotta replicate the initial murder conditions perfectly!

And that was it for the franchise, though it was not Monogram’s intention to end Chan’s run here. In 1949, Winters and Luke went to England, where Monogram had funds tied up, with the intent that the series would continue production in Europe. Franchise death came in the form of British currency devaluation – Monogram momentum now monetarily mummified. Chan took a pounding, so to speak. Artistically, the series had been a zombie for a great many years. It was a purely financial endeavor, and thus to die financially makes perfect sense.

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One could say Chan’s cinematic potential was gone due to television – this was surely the official statement lobbied about by Monogram at the time. Thus it makes sense that someone would foolishly decide to resuscitate the Chan character as a TV series (totally unconnected to the preceding films). Enter yet another undignified white man, J. Carrol Naish, to play Chan in 1956’s poorly-rated “The New Adventures of Charlie Chan.” Even while the medium may have been the place for Chan, the times surely weren’t. There was just nothing pertinent or contemporary that could be done then. History had passed Charlie Chan by.


Chan still makes the occasional pop cultural reappearance, each attempt a predestined failure. Take for instance his next filmed flop, Hanna-Barbera’s 1972 animated series, “The Amazing Charlie Chan and the Chan Clan.” For the first time ever, an American “Chan” production used a Chinese actor to portray the Chan man – Keye Luke himself. But the focus was no longer on the obese Oriental, but on Chan’s ten children (and their dog Chu Chu), who traveled the world solving mysteries – while also playing in a rock band. It was just like every other Hanna-Barbera cartoon ever produced, with special note being made of “Scooby Doo.” I mean, “Scooby” scrupulously employed the constricting formula pioneered by the cinematic Chan. And Hanna-Barbera, ever the prolific producer of animated atrocities, could only eke sixteen episodes out of this premise. They oughtn’t to have tried.

Then in 1980, Jerry Shylock (who?) proposed a multi-million dollar comedy to star Chan, Charlie Chan and the Dragon Lady. The times now weren’t merely apathetic towards Chan, but outright hostile. Rabble-rousers C.A.N. (Coalition of Asians to Nix) opposed the production for its obvious racist issues (not to mention Peter Ustinov, yet another cracker, was to play Chan long, long, long after this stupid yellowface routine ought to have bit the dust). No matter, the re-titled Charlie Chan and the Curse of the Dragon Queen came out in 1981, and was an “abysmal failure.” Meaning it fits right in with the old series.

One year later say the equally unimpressive spoof, Charlie Chan is Missing (link not found). I’m not sure who in 1982 would have cared.

Nothing more has come of the property since then. Miramax obtained the film rights (for surely way too much money), with intent to create an edgy and radical Chan for the ‘90s. (Pardon my ridiculous guffawing.) Chan was to be “hip, slim, cerebral, sexy and…a martial-arts master.” In other words, nothing like he’s ever been before. Of course, knowing how studios pre-talk their properties, had this actually happened, it would’ve sucked.

Lucy Liu is presently struggling to force another Charlie Chan reboot out of the development hell it is rightly mired in. I honestly doubt remotely anything will come of this. I mean, why re-imagine the Chan character now, when the only thing anyone knows of him is the unfortunate implications? There’s just not enough positive name recognition for the sort of reboot treatment recently given to Sherlock Holmes…via Sherlock Holmes.

Of course, none of what came after The Sky Dragon is in any way a part of the franchise our focus has been on. That series, which passed from Fox on to Monogram and saw a staggering 47 entries, had been dead and buried since 1948. Any necessary connections, via actor, writer, director or studio are irreparably severed now. And since Chan has his origin in literature, anything to come has its inspiration due to Earl Derr Biggers. Yes, the Charlie Chan franchise is irreparably done with, and even new Chan films (ha!) couldn’t undo that.

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I’m done with Chan for good! WHOOOOOOO!!!!!

Let the drunkenness begin! (I don’t care if it’s a Tuesday morning.)


Related posts:
• No. 3 Behind That Curtain (1929)
• No. 4 Charlie Chan Carries On (1931)
• No. 5 The Black Camel (1931)
• No. 9 Charlie Chan in London (1934)
• No. 10 Charlie Chan in Paris (1935)
• No. 11 Charlie Chan in Egypt (1935)
• No. 12 Charlie Chan in Shanghai (1935)
• No. 13 Charlie Chan’s Secret (1936)
• No. 14 Charlie Chan at the Circus (1936)
• No. 15 Charlie Chan at the Race Track (1936)
• No. 16 Charlie Chan at the Opera (1936)
• No. 17 Charlie Chan at the Olympics (1937)
• No. 18 Charlie Chan on Broadway (1937)
• No. 19 Charlie Chan at Monte Carlo (1938)
• No. 20 Charlie Chan in Honolulu (1938)
• No. 21 Charlie Chan in Reno (1939)
• No. 22 Charlie Chan at Treasure Island (1939)
• No. 23 City in Darkness (1939)
• No. 24 Charlie Chan in Panama (1940)
• No. 25 Charlie Chan at the Wax Museum (1940)
• No. 26 Charlie Chan’s Murder Cruise (1940)
• No. 27 Murder Over New York (1940)
• No. 28 Dead Men tell (1941)
• No. 29 Charlie Chan in Rio (1941)
• No. 30 Castle in the Desert (1942)
• No. 31 Charlie Chan in the Secret Service (1944)
• No. 32 The Chinese Cat (1944)
• No. 33 Meeting at Midnight (1944)
• No. 34 The Shanghai Cobra (1945)
• No. 35 The Red Dragon (1945)
• No. 36 The Scarlet Clue (1945)
• No. 37 The Jade Mask (1945)
• No. 38 Dark Alibi (1946)
• No. 40 Dangerous Money (1946)
• No. 41 The Trap (1946)

Charlie Chan, No. 41 - The Trap (1946)


When the end came for former Chan man Warner “I’m Drunk” Oland, it gave me a certain perverse glee. Okay, fine, his performances as Charlie Chan remain beloved by the oddball online community that continues to worship these 75-year-old racist B-movies, but Oland himself was evidently a jerk. This is the guy who pioneered the cinematic form of Fu Manchu, let us not forget, and made a career out of a very specific form of anti-Chinese stereotyping. That his death resembled what Lindsey Lohan’s will someday merely solidifies this impression.

Sidney Toler’s final, pre-death Chans, however, carry the stench of tragedy about them. I’ll be honest, at the start of his Chan Toler tenure, Sid outdid Oland – for me. And he was a genuine actor before Charlie Chan, with real roles in real movies. It’s sad that a Caucasian actor in his late sixties could only find work because he had a vaguely Asianish face, and was fat. When Toler’s slow, steady descent into death became clear, we wasn’t even allowed a moment’s respite. No, not when a money-hungry Poverty Row studio could milk his existence and propped-up physical frame for a few more entries. It’s fortunate Monogram didn’t try to animate his dead corpse after the fact.

Here we are at The Trap, the end of the Toler era – it’s odd, how lead-driven franchises have “eras” in the James Bond sense, even while Sid’s personal output of 22 films equals the official EON Bond output. No matter, I bid you farewell, Sidney Toler. If only the last eleven films you did hadn’t been so astoundingly unenjoyable.


The Trap is racist, this we know, because A) it’s a Charlie Chan movie, B) it stars Mantan Moreland, and C) it’s from the 1940s. This is old hat now, but there’s more! The Trap is sexist too! Basically, The Trap posits that all females, or at least all young, attractive females, are skittish, prissy, incompetent and screechingly terrified of everything to the extent that they make Moreland’s negro stereotypes seem butch. It’s nice to see Sidney Toler bowed out with a touch of class.

The setup here – which is actually unique – sees roughly 8 or so showgirls wintering for a month at an isolated beachside mansion, where they shall be slowly picked off, one by one, by a sexually-crazed killer in the shadows. [Record screech.] Hold up! I thought this was a ‘40s murder mystery, not an ‘80s slasher flick! Indeed, even the final motive has the pungent reek of ‘80s exploitation, somehow. Even so, the proportions are all different here. Imagine it, a disposable slasher movie which focuses on the dialogue, the characters [sic], and the scenes in between the killings – while still being no better for it.


The setup takes a long time, not because this future stock plot is at all complex, but because they’re trying to buy screen time without Toler’s cancerous presence. Much of the movie makes feints towards being a genuine murder mystery (hah!), but all the soap opera nonsense between the showgirls (concerning jealousy, men, clothing, and a bunch of other stuff nobody cares about) is a simple red herring. To cut to the chase, the killer’s motive is such: To disgrace pornographer impresario extraordinaire “Maestro” Cole King (Howard Negley). Which, somehow, can only be done by the random, wanton murder of girls only nebulously connected to the man. It made more sense in the ‘80s, but at least then they had exploitative genre trappings to fall back on.

This thing really is a horror flick displaced by 35 years. Take for instance the first murder (some casual 12 minutes in – and these things are only 65 minutes long). Much like her inane sisters to come, underage ingénue Lois (all the characters – and their actresses – have names that sound like 1940s porn stars, if such a thing existed) holds no sense of self-preservation. Breaking out the shot clock, she simply stands and weeps uselessly for one minute as the gloved killer lurks ever nearer with a garrote. A garrote! I’m sorry, girl, but at least put up a fight! Yeesh!

The discovery of Lois’ body provokes quivering spasms of speaker-shattering screams from the remaining showgirl coterie. It is very, very, very irritating, meaning it is a trick The Trap will fall back on time and again. When Cole’s dogsbody Rick (Larry Blake) opines silk cord stranglings are an “old Chinese custom,” this provokes even louder shrieks from Cole’s harridans. “EEK! CHINESE!” Wow! Sexist and racist in one fell swoop. Charlie Chan movies, you make every hour feel like three, but I salute your efficiency when it comes to what truly matters.

The flock of brainless strippers – sorry, showgirls – putters around incomprehensibly like so many hens, as someone with a bit more sense (i.e., a man) proposes a solution. To call Charlie Chan, “the world’s greatest Chinese detective.” Cue showgirls: “AAH! CHINESE!” Okay, seriously movie, you can stop harping on that one note!


No, wait, the screaming continues, even into the next scene at Chan’s house – and the girls aren’t even here. They’re just that loud. “WE’LL ALL BE MURDERED! AAH!” And due to a series of farcical misunderstandings (read: the speech impediments of both black people and women), Birmingham Brown (Moreland) convinces Chan that his son Jimmy is dead. Quick, to the Chanmobile!...er, Birmingham’s coupe.

This confusion about Jimmy shall not last, as Victor Sen Yung’s quick arrival resolves it. Sadly, he does so by creeping about the exterior of the Malibu murder mansion. The harlots all see him. “CHINESE! WE’LL DIE!” Give – it – a – rest – already!


Charlie Chan languorously forces his decaying mortal husk up towards the murder room – “NO, NO, DON’T GO UP THERE! AAH!” Girls, please! Enough already! Seriously! Anyway, poor Chan is relegated to mostly being still and reciting lines. It’s no longer acting, but simply recitation. For Toler’s cancer was so far so far, all Monogram could hope for was that one take in fifteen in which Toler’s words were comprehensible – if even then. And when they’re not…well, that just sounds more “Chinese,” which works for ‘em too! “AAH! CHINESE!” Okay, girls, knock it off, or I won’t continue this review!



Okay…Okay, are we all settled down here?...Yes?...Good. I’ll get back to business.



Jimmy and Birmingham go on one of their usual bungling side investigations, to no effect. These are taking up more screen time than usual (that is, more uneventful creeping, lurking and shuffling), though they’re losing whatever spark they once had. All I can do is remark upon the latest thing that terrifies Birmingham, a negro – himself. Yes, he sees himself and screams. (Ugh, screaming!) “Aah, I’m corporeal!” it seems to suggest. [Sigh.]

Things calm down again briefly, as Chan takes statements from the coherent (male) suspects, all while he perches on the edge of a bed and visible struggles to control his failing heart rate. Poor Toler. His death almost happens ahead of schedule, then, as the girls’ O.S. screaming startles the living hell out of him. Oh, what is it this time? Mice in the wall! Not even anything to do with the “mystery,” simply mice. (Spoiler: It’s the caretaker cleaning up the old Prohibition chambers. Also mice.)


This portrayal of women must’ve been trying, even for ‘40s audiences, so next they throw us a bone (and a corpse), as footage that must’ve been the 1940 equivalent of Piranha 3D displays both buxom bathing beauties and mangled death. In a very ill-staged moment, one hussy runs after an errant beach ball (at a perfect 90 degree difference to its own trajectory) and thus “trips” over a poorly hidden seaweed carcass. It’s Marcia, whose strangulation wounds and nearby cord lead everyone to believe she committed suicide…by drowning. (The logic, is she not working for you too well?) Chan himself cannot mumble out an opposition, until Crime Lab™ can step in and explain otherwise.

Resolving a dangling “plot thread,” this proves Marcia wasn’t in the cabana – yes, this was an issue. And at the film’s repeated insistence, both “Marcia” and “cabana” are given very peculiar pronunciations – three syllables and a tilde, respectively.

Oh, and when Crime Lab™ does determine Marcia was strangled, Chan declares it was the sort of knot “only woman can tie.” That’s the extent of The Trap’s sexism: women have different powers! (Though Chan does imply, to the fullest extent possible under Hays, that homosexuals can also tie such a knot. Boy, these movies sure are tasteful.)


Having gotten everything he could from the men, Chan turns to the fairer and frightier sex. “OH NO! DON’T QUESTION ME, CHARLIE CHAN!”…Shut…up! So Chan questions one, somewhat more capable wench, who obtained womanly garroting skills when living out in Darkest Orient, and [discussion in regards to red herrings deleted].

Back to Birmingham (racism will be a nice break from sexism): He sleeps outside on top of the basement door. What sense does this make?! And when the door predictably opens, Birmingham comes to a bizarre conclusion: “Erfquakes! Erfquakes! What is you at?” Actually, do you think we could get back to the movie’s sexist content?


Charlie Chan is becoming increasingly more reliant on capturing murderers with traps (he actually hasn’t solved a mystery since 1938). This makes basically every movie a waiting game until the final 10 minutes. But here those minutes are! Things begin with a rehash of The Jimmy and Birmingham Show, as they run through their typical sub-Scooby routine yet again. Then they happen upon the shadowy killer in mid-choke, and chase the (admittedly stupid looking) killer away. Chan is suddenly here (editing masking Toler’s infirmities most unsuccessfully), claiming they have spoilt his latest trap…which was to…allow another murder to happen, apparently. (Chan’s actual dialogue: “Creeping around, ancient Chinese tradition.”)

No matter, it’s time for action, Monogram style! That is, through stock footage. Cranked-up police film of cars on PCH, combined with night filter and the same climactic music they play in every movie…well, all that combines to make a car chase. Then the killer’s car crashes. It turns out the dying killer is…Okay, I haven’t run through the characters here, and I’ve already explained the motive above. Let’s just say it’s Pamela Voorhees or someone, okay? She dies, and everyone laughs genially. The End. (Oh yes, the killer’s female…That’s kinda rare for these films.)

And as that ill-motivated archetype perishes, so too does, in a sense, Sidney Toler. This is the last we shall see of him, a far lesser man than when he began…

But it still isn’t the end of the Charlie Chan franchise! Oh Lordie no! For if they could already weather one actor’s death, why not another? Recasting is already on the table, meaning these Chan films shall continue on ad infinitum until some outside force (unpopularity, television, Monogram’s transformation into Allied Artists) forces it to stop. But while 1947 would see Monogram actually start to shed its B-model model and jettison most of its many, many B franchises, there was still a little more life left in Chan somehow. Enough for one more actor to essay the role, and six more films.


Related posts:
• No. 3 Behind That Curtain (1929)
• No. 4 Charlie Chan Carries On (1931)
• No. 5 The Black Camel (1931)
• No. 9 Charlie Chan in London (1934)
• No. 10 Charlie Chan in Paris (1935)
• No. 11 Charlie Chan in Egypt (1935)
• No. 12 Charlie Chan in Shanghai (1935)
• No. 13 Charlie Chan’s Secret (1936)
• No. 14 Charlie Chan at the Circus (1936)
• No. 15 Charlie Chan at the Race Track (1936)
• No. 16 Charlie Chan at the Opera (1936)
• No. 17 Charlie Chan at the Olympics (1937)
• No. 18 Charlie Chan on Broadway (1937)
• No. 19 Charlie Chan at Monte Carlo (1938)
• No. 20 Charlie Chan in Honolulu (1938)
• No. 21 Charlie Chan in Reno (1939)
• No. 22 Charlie Chan at Treasure Island (1939)
• No. 23 City in Darkness (1939)
• No. 24 Charlie Chan in Panama (1940)
• No. 25 Charlie Chan at the Wax Museum (1940)
• No. 26 Charlie Chan’s Murder Cruise (1940)
• No. 27 Murder Over New York (1940)
• No. 28 Dead Men tell (1941)
• No. 29 Charlie Chan in Rio (1941)
• No. 30 Castle in the Desert (1942)
• No. 31 Charlie Chan in the Secret Service (1944)
• No. 32 The Chinese Cat (1944)
• No. 33 Meeting at Midnight (1944)
• No. 34 The Shanghai Cobra (1945)
• No. 35 The Red Dragon (1945)
• No. 36 The Scarlet Clue (1945)
• No. 37 The Jade Mask (1945)
• No. 38 Dark Alibi (1946)
• No. 40 Dangerous Money (1946)
• No. 42 The Chinese Ring (1947)

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