Sweet Meats – Troma Films (Blu-ray)

Theatrical Release Date: USA, 2025
Director: Ricky Glore
Writer: Ricky Glore
Cast: Andrew Gordon, Eileen Earnest, Timmy H. Barron, Ricky Glore

Release Date: September 8th, 2026
Approximate Running Time: 100 Minutes 59 Seconds
Aspect Ratio: 1.85:1 Widescreen / 1.33:1 Aspect Ratio / 1080 Progressive / MPEG-4 AVCC
Rating: NR
Sound: Dolby Digital Stereo English
Subtitles: English SDH
Region Coding: Region Free
Retail Price: $19.95

"Bobby Sweet is a country music legend and has been the world-renowned face of "Sweet Meats" since establishing his first restaurant with his wife. Sometimes a "secret ingredient" should stay that way." - synopsis provided by the distributor

Video: 4/5

Sweet Meats comes on a 50 GB dual layer Blu-ray.

Disc Size: 41.7 GB

Feature: 18.9 GB

Flesh tones and colors look correct, image clarity and black levels are strong, and there are no issues with compression.

Audio: 3.75/5

This release comes with one audio option, a Dolby Digital mono mix in English with removable English SDH. The audio sounds clear, balanced, and robust when it should.

Extras:

Extras for this release include a proof-of-concept trailer (4 minutes 14 seconds, Dolby Digital stereo English, no subtitles), the original theatrical trailer (2 minutes 6 seconds, Dolby Digital stereo English, no subtitles), an audio extra titled Sweet Meats Q&A (90 minutes 58 seconds, Dolby Digital stereo English, no subtitles), three featurettes about music from the film titled Evolution of a Song (2 minutes 29 seconds, Dolby Digital stereo English, no subtitles), (4 minutes 24 seconds, Dolby Digital stereo English, no subtitles), and (6 minutes 21 seconds, Dolby Digital stereo English, no subtitles), Lloyd Kaufman Helps Independent Cinema (7 minutes, Dolby Digital stereo English, no subtitles), a featurette titled The Making of Sweet Meats (21 minutes 40 seconds, Dolby Digital stereo English, no subtitles), Sweet Meats Make the News clip #1 (5 minutes 17 seconds, Dolby Digital stereo English, no subtitles), Sweet Meats Make the News clip #2 (4 minutes 31 seconds, Dolby Digital stereo English, no subtitles), Lloyd Kaufman Digs Those Sweet Meats (1 minute 10 seconds, Dolby Digital stereo English, no subtitles), an audio commentary with director, cast, and crew, Innards! music video (1 minute 50 seconds, Dolby Digital stereo English, no subtitles), Radiation March (54 seconds, Dolby Digital stereo English, no subtitles), TA in 4K (1 minute 10 seconds, Dolby Digital stereo English, no subtitles), Troma in Times Square (1 minute 1 second, Dolby Digital stereo English, no subtitles), and trailers for Shakespeare’s Shitstorm, Eating Miss Campbell, Curse of the Werewolf, Sweet Meats, Kill Dolly Doll, Divide & Conquer, The Toxic Avenger, Class of Nume ‘Em High, Sgt. Kabukiman N.Y.P.D., and Tromeo & Juliet.

Summary:

A struggling restaurant becomes an overnight sensation when it introduces a burger made from a special ingredient.

Troma Films is an established brand and when a film bears Troma Films, there is a certain expectation from audiences. Troma Films are known for their politically incorrect humor and over-the-top gore set pieces, and Sweet Meats delivers these two elements in spades.

The main focal point of the narrative is a 40+-year-old named Booby Sweet whose stage fright gets in the way of him being a country music star. Unable to live his dream, he works at a second-rate restaurant that is run by a father who’s looking to retire. The father decides not to give the restaurant to his children because he believes his son Jerry is not intelligent and that his daughter Laddie should not inherit it due to her gender, so he gives the restaurant to Bobby Sweet instead. Before the father leaves for retirement, he accidentally falls into an organ grinder bought by Laddie. From there Laddie convinces Booby Sweet to use her father's flesh as the main ingredient of a new burger.

While Sweet Meats more than delivers when it comes to subversive humor and gory carnage, it is not a film without shortcomings. At 101 minutes in length, the narrative often lags, and pacing would greatly benefit from trimming redundant moments. When it comes to the performances, they are overflowing with enthusiasm. However, Troma Films' recent releases have been more unsuccessful than successful, with Sweet Meats falling into the former category.

Sweet Meats gets a solid release from Troma Films that comes with a strong audio/video presentation and a wealth of extras.

Written by Michael Den Boer

Scars of the Sun / Blow the Night – Third Window Films (Blu-ray)

Theatrical Release Dates: Japan, 1981 (Scars of the Sun), Japan, 1983 (Blow the Night)
Director: Chūsei Sone (Both Films)
Cast: Kenichi Kaneda, Hayashi Mirai, Ken Ogata, Satoshi Sadanaga, Kôji Tanaka, Emi Yokoyama (Scars of the Sun), Moeko Ezawa, Kazumi Kawai, Eiji Kobayashi, Namie Takada, Yūsuke Takita (Blow the Night)

Release Date: July 27th, 2026
Approximate Running Times: 99 Minutes 6 Seconds (Scars of the Sun), 109 Minutes 12 Seconds (Blow the Night)
Aspect Ratio: 1.85:1 Widescreen / 1080 Progressive / MPEG-4 AVC (Both Films)
Rating: 15 (UK)
Sound: LPCM Mono Japanese (Both Films)
Subtitles: English (Both Films)
Region Coding: Region B
Retail Price: £34.99

"Chusei Sone's 1981 film Scars of the Sun departs from the director's previous works in the field of Roman Porno, with this Toei youth-drama starring Kenichi Kaneda. Kenichi plays Shuhei, a member of a rough-and-tumble gang whose customs are broken apart when Kenichi is reunited with his estranged brother whose girlfriend's entry into the group starts to cause friction between its members and the traditions they follow. Starring Kenichi Kaneda, Kôji Tanaka, Ken Ogata, Kyôko Enami, and Satoshi Sadanaga.

The first film from Chusei Sone's production company "Filmworkers" is a hard-hitting Docu-drama based on the stories of Namie Takada: a 15 year old thinner-sniffing, girl-gang member. Namie stars in the film as herself to tell a brutal tale of wild youth in early 80s Japanese society. Starring Yuka Komatsu, Shûichirô Moriyama, Moeko Ezawa, Eiji Kobayashi, Kazumi Kawai, and Eiji Kobayashi." - synopsis provided by the distributor

Video: 4/5 (Scars of the Sun), 3.75/5 (Blow the Night)

Scars of the Sun comes on a 50 GB dual layer Blu-ray.

Disc Size: 32 GB

Feature: 27.6 GB

Blow the Night comes on a 50 GB dual layer Blu-ray.

Disc Size: 31.3 GB

Feature: 25.7 GB

Blow the Night has some source debris that fortunately is never intrusive. Scars of the Sun’s source are in better shape. Flesh tones and colors look correct, image clarity and black levels are strong, and there are no issues with compression or digital noise reduction.

Audio: 4/5 (Scars of the Sun - LPCM Mono Japanese, Blow the Night - LPCM Mono Japanese)

Each film comes with one audio option, a LPCM mono mix in Japanese with removable English subtitles. Both tracks sound clean, clear, and balanced, and ambient sounds are well-represented.

Extras:

Extras for Scars of the Sun include a theatrical trailer (2 minutes 47 seconds, Dolby Digital mono Japanese with removable English subtitles), a video essay titled Dakota Noot titled The Sun Sets on Chusei Sone (17 minutes 52 seconds, Dolby Digital stereo English, no subtitles), and an audio commentary with Japanese film expert Jasper Sharp.

Extras for Blow the Night include a theatrical trailer (2 minutes 21 seconds, Dolby Digital mono Japanese with removable English subtitles), a video essay by James Balmont titled Juvenile Deliquency in '80s Japan (19 minutes 53 seconds, Dolby Digital stereo English, no subtitles), an interview with producer Kunihiko Ukai (21 minutes 11 seconds, Dolby Digital stereo Japanese with removable English subtitles), and an audio commentary with Japanese film expert Tom Mes.

Other extras include reversible cover art, an O-ring slipcover (limited to the first pressing), and a 12-page booklet with an essay titled ‘Stupid rules don’t apply here’: The punk melodies of Blow the Night and Scars of the Sun written by Miriam Balanescu.

Summary:

Scars of the Sun and Blow the Night were directed by Chūsei Sone, known mostly for directing Nikkatsu romantic pornography films. Notable films he’s directed are Love Bandit Rat Man, Hellish Love, Naked Rashomon, Case of the Disjointed Murder, Angel Guts: High School Coed, and Angel Guts: Red Classroom.

Scars of the Sun: A young man’s reunion with his estranged brother puts him at odds with a gang of juvenile delinquents that he’s part of.

While the brief synopsis provides a distilled overview of Scars of the Sun, it just covers the surface of what unfolds. The protagonist, a young man named Shuhei, comes from a broken home. His parents separated when he was very young, and he has not seen his mother since the separation. He lives with his father, an author whose major success is a book loosely based on his son. Instead of providing guidance, his father lacks morals and has no boundaries when it comes to raising his son. Shuhei, unlike most teenagers who would be ecstatic to have such freedom, harbors intense resentment for his father.

1970s delinquent youth films were populated with characters who let violence do all of the talking, while Scars of the Sun is a film deep with emotion that goes beneath the surface with its characters. Throughout, Shuhei lets his anger get the better of him, and yet the issues that are plaguing him remain unsolved. It is not until he lets go of his anger that he finally frees himself of scars from his past.

All around, the performances are excellent. Anchoring the cast is Kenichi Kaneda in the Shuhei; he delivers an authentic performance that perfectly captures his character's state of mind. Other performances of note are Ken Ogata (Vengeance Is Mine) and Kyoko Enami (The Fall of Ako Castle), who portray Shuhei’s father and mother. In the case of the latter, despite her limited screentime, her character's moments with her estranged son are the most powerful.

While there is a looseness to the story that unfolds, there are no throwaway moments. The opening setup does an excellent job pulling you in and from there the narrative effectively builds to a heartfelt, bittersweet finale. Although the visuals mostly let the character be the focal point, there are a few striking moments that greatly heighten the mood. The most striking moment is a scene where Shuhie finally loses control of his anger, and in a jealous rage he uses a boat to run over his friend who was surfing. Ultimately, Scars of the Sun is a well-crafted melodrama whose emotionally charged finale stays with you.

Blow the Night: A teenage girl becomes entangled with an all-girl gang at her new school after recently moving to a rural city.

Reportedly, Blow the Night is based on stories of events from the life of Namie Takada, who portrays a character named Namie. That said, there is an authenticity to her performance since she is essentially portraying herself. While based on Namie Takada’s life experiences, Blow the Night is reminiscent of Toei’s Pinky Violence films. Another clear influence is Yankii, a Japanese subculture characterized by its rebellion against societal norms.

While the narrative weaves between several characters, Namie and Natsuko (sisters) are the focal point. The opening setup does a superb job laying the foundation and a punk rock soundtrack perfectly sets the tone. That said, the narrative retains a cohesiveness despite its free form, and it is very effective at building and maintaining momentum.

There is rampant drug use and sexual promiscuity and a general disregard for authority. The characters in Blow the Night come from dysfunctional families whose parents are absent or avoid confrontation. The visuals are shot in a documentary-like style that uses long takes that greatly enhance the realism. The most memorable moment visually is a rage-filled riot at the school where all hell breaks loose. Ultimately, Blow the Night is an angst-fueled melodrama whose relentless momentum never gives you a chance to catch your breath.

Where most home media companies try to play it safe, Third Window Films is one of the few companies that constantly surprise me. Third Window Films gives Scars of the Sun and Blow the Night a solid release, making it a must-see for fans of Japanese cinema and one of the forerunners for the best releases of 2026. Highly recommended.

Written by Michael Den Boer

Two Boxes: Televised Terror in Franco's Spain: Limited Edition – Transmission Video Distribution (Blu-ray)

Release Dates: Spain, 1972 (La cabina), Spain, 1974 (El televisor)
Directors: Antonio Mercero (La cabina), Narciso Ibáñez Serrador (El televisor)
Cast: José Luis López Vázquez, Agustín González, Goyo Lebrero, Tito García (La cabina), Narciso Ibáñez Menta, María Fernanda D'Ocón, Kiti Mánver, José Miguel Aguado, Rafael Navarro, Sergio Doré, Estanis González (El televisor)

Release Date: August 3rd, 2026
Approximate Running Times: 35 Minutes 54 Seconds (La cabina), 67 Minutes 57 Seconds (El televisor)
Aspect Ratio: 1.33:1 Aspect Ratio / 1080 Progressive / MPEG-4 AVC (Both Films)
Rating: 12 (UK)
Sound: LPCM Mono Spanish (Both Films)
Subtitles: English (Both Films)
Region Coding: Region Free
Retail Price: £19.99 (UK)

"Spain in the early 1970s was a country in transition, with increasing economic prosperity and the expectations of a growing middle class in direct conflict with the dying Francoist regime, where state surveillance, media censorship, and social control were still the norm. Inspired by mystery-horror anthology series such as Alfred Hitchcock Presents and The Twilight Zone, this unique period in history is depicted with terrifying clarity and dark humor in these two infamous television films: La cabina and El televisor. 

In Antonio Mercero’s La cabina, a group of officials install a telephone box outside a block of flats. After a man enters to make a phone call, he finds himself unable to leave, attracting the attention of fascinated locals as he grows increasingly desperate to escape. A sensation upon release, La cabina also developed a huge cult following in the UK after regularly screening on late-night TV.

In Narcisco Ibáñez Serrandor’s El televisor, a man living a dreary suburban life has a simple dream: to possess his own television. When he finally gets his wish, the dream soon becomes a dangerous, all-consuming obsession. Originally a special episode of Serrandor’s hugely popular series Tales to Keep You Awake, El televisor’s escalating dread and shocking conclusion still retains its power to shock over 50 years later." - synopsis provided by the distributor

Video: 4.25/5 (La cabina), 3.75/5 (El televisor)

Here’s the information provided about the transfer, "La cabina was supplied to Radiance Films as a high-definition digital file by Televisión Española.

El televisor was supplied to Radiance Films as a high-definition digital file by Televisión Española. Additional clean-up was performed by Radiance Films."

La cabina and El televisor come on a 50 GB dual layer Blu-ray.

Disc Size: 43.1 GB

Feature: 9.6 GB (La cabina), 18.3 GB (El televisor)

La cabina is in better shape than El televisor, which exhibits more noticeable source-related debris. Flesh tones and colors look correct, image clarity and black levels are strong, and there are no issues with compression.

Audio: 4/5 (La cabina - LPCM Mono Spanish, El televisor - LPCM Mono Spanish)

Each film comes with one audio option, a LPCM mono mix in Spanish with removable English subtitles. Both tracks sound clean, clear, and balanced.

Extras:

Extras for this release include an interview with Spanish film expert Antonio Lazaro-Reboll on horror in Francoist Spain (37 minutes 34 seconds, Dolby Digital stereo English, no subtitles), an archival interview with co-screenwriter of La cabina Jose Luis Garci (18 minutes 19 seconds, Dolby Digital stereo Spanish with removable English subtitles), an archival La cabina location featurette with Antonio Mercero Santos (13 minutes 6 seconds, Dolby Digital stereo Spanish with removable English subtitles), an archival press conference from 1999 with director Narciso Ibanez Serrandor promoting El televisor (6 minutes 47 seconds, Dolby Digital stereo Spanish with removable English subtitles), an audio commentary with writers and filmmakers Reece Shearsmith and Steve Pemberton for La cabina, an audio commentary with film critics and horror experts Jonathan Rigby and Kevin Lyons for El televisor, a removable OBI strip leaving packaging free of certificates and markings, an O-card slipcover (limited to 5,000 copies), a 36-page booklet (limited to 5,000 copies) with cast & crew information, an essay titled Two Boxes: Televised Terror in Franco's Spain written by Alex Mendibil, an essay titled Fear of the Box: The Late Night Legend of La cabina on British TV written by Paul Martinovic, and information about the transfer.

Summary:

La cabina: A man goes inside a recently installed telephone box; when he tries to make a call, the phone does not work. When he tries to leave the telephone box, it has become sealed and impenetrable. From there, a crowd gathers and quickly grows in size, and any attempt to free is unsuccessful.

For a film that only clocks in at 36 minutes, La cabina conveys so much in regard to social commentary and subtext. Themes explored bureaucratic inefficiency, psychological distancing, and isolation. La cabina is a film overflowing with psychological horror, which is mostly conveyed through the use of black humor. That said, what is happening to the protagonist is no laughing matter.

While there are several people who try to help the protagonist and an abundance of spectators enjoying his plight, there is really only one actor who stands out: José Luis López Vázquez in the role of the protagonist. He delivers a remarkable performance that perfectly conveys his character's fright and hopelessness. Confined in a small space, so much of his performance relies on his body language.

The most striking aspect of La Cabina is the visuals and how they constantly come up with interesting compositions despite its confined space. Another area where the visuals excel is their ability to create and sustain a forbidding mood. The narrative masterfully builds tension, culminating in the revelation of the protagonist's fate. Its finale is an exclamation mark on the dangers of institutional inefficiency with the cycle of events starting over. Ultimately, La cabina is a surrealist nightmare that explores universal themes that are all too real.

El televisor: Narciso Ibáñez Serrador directed El televisor. He’s most known for The House That Screamed, Who Can Kill a Child, and Twilight Zone-like television series Historias para no dormir.

A man who has spent his life doing what is right, always going to work, and providing for his family finally has enough money to buy the television he’s longed for. What starts off as a moment of escapism turns into a waking nightmare when he’s unable to distinguish between reality and fantasy.  

El Televisor is best described as a psychological melodrama with horror and fantasy elements. A common trend in early 1970s Spanish cinema is to use horror elements to convey social commentary, because any other genre would have censored said content. The most notable themes explored in El Televisor are consumerism and media consumption. While the themes being explored veer into dark territories, they are laced with a subversive humor.

All around, the cast are outstanding in their roles, especially Narciso Ibáñez Menta (the director’s father) in the role of the protagonist, a bank employee named Enrique. He delivers an utterly convincing performance of a man who loses sight of what is really important and gets overwhelmed by his obsession. María Fernanda D'Ocón gives an equally compelling performance in the role of Susana, Enrique’s wife.

The visuals, while not overly stylish, mostly let the performances be the focal point. The narrative does an excellent job drawing you in, and from there it effectively builds upon a series of tense moments that culminate with a carnage-filled finale. Another strength of El Televisor is how well it taps into elements that are universal and highlight their sinister undertones. Ultimately, El Televisor is an extraordinary film that’s overflowing with imagination and foreboding atmosphere.

The best part of cinema is venturing outside of your comfort zone and discovering something unexpected. While I am familiar with 1970s Spanish cinema, La cabina and El televisor were two genuine surprises. That said, Transmission Video Distribution’s Two Boxes: Televised Terror in Franco's Spain is a must-have purchase for fans of 1970s Spanish cinema, and I regard it as one of 2026’s best home media releases. Highly recommended.

Written by Michael Den Boer

Visitor Q: Limited Edition – New Wave Video (Blu-ray)

Theatrical Release Date: Japan, 2001
Director: Takashi Miike
Writer: Itaru Era
Cast: Kenichi Endō, Shungicu Uchida, Kazushi Watanabe, Fujiko, Jun Mutō, Shōko Nakahara

Release Date: June 22nd, 2026
Approximate Running Time: 84 Minutes 11 Seconds
Aspect Ratio: 1.33:1 Aspect Ratio / 1080 Progressive / MPEG-4 AVC
Rating: NR (Australia)
Sound: LPCM stereo Japanese
Subtitles: English
Region Coding: Region Free
Retail Price: $34.95 AUD (Australia)

"A deeply dysfunctional family is pushed to the brink when a mysterious stranger enters their home, unleashing long-suppressed tensions and laying bare their most disturbing taboos. His silent presence sets off a series of shocking transformations, compelling each member to confront their darkest impulses." - synopsis provided by the distributor

Video: 3.75/5

Here’s the information provided about this release's transfer, "Visitor Q is presented in its original aspect ratio of 1.33:1. The film was shot on a Sony DCR-VX1000 MiniDV digital camera.

For this release, the original MiniDV master tape was scanned in 2025 by TRUSTECH JAPAN CO., LTD. This new scan presents the film in the highest possible quality while preserving the inherent limitations of the original source format."

Visitor Q comes on a 50 GB dual layer Blu-ray.

Disc Size: 39.2 GB

Feature: 22.2 GB

Knowing the limitations of the source and my previous experiences of watching Blu-rays of films shot on video, I went in with low expectations. That said, the result is easily the best-looking Blu-ray release of a shot on video that I have seen to date.

Audio: 4.25/5

This release comes with one audio option, a LPCM stereo mix in Japanese with removable English subtitles. The audio is clean, clear, and balanced, and range-wise, ambient sounds are well-represented.

Extras:

Extras for this release include a theatrical trailer (1 minute 37 seconds, LPCM stereo Japanese with non-removable English subtitles), an introduction by filmmaker and film historian Andrew Leavold (8 minutes 59 seconds, LPCM stereo English, no subtitles), an appreciation by film critic Ron Pettersson titled Descent in Digital Hell: Visitor Q Then and Now (22 minutes 14 seconds, LPCM stereo English, no subtitles), a video essay by Japanese cinema expert Joe Hickinbottom titled Distorted Disturbances: The Radical Digital Aesthetics of Visitor Q (23 minutes 5 seconds, LPCM stereo English, no subtitles), an interview with director Takashi Miike (31 minutes 28 seconds, LPCM stereo Japanese with non-removable English subtitles), reversible cover art, a slipcover, and a 24-page booklet with an essay titled Broadcast Lives: Voyeurism and Family Deconstruction in Visitor Q written by Michelle Kisner, an essay titled Father’s Blood, Mother’s Milk: Dissecting the Politics of Visitor Q’s Fucked Up Family written by Amber T, and information about the transfer.

Summary:

Takashi Miike directed Visitor Q. His filmography stretches over 45 years and encompasses over 120 entries, including notable films like The Bird People of China, Agitator, Ichi the Killer, Audition, The Happiness of the Katakuris, Gozu, and Lesson of the Evil. Visitor Q was the sixth and final installment of six straight video films known as the Love Cinema series. 

A mysterious stranger forces his way into a dysfunctional family life and unleashes their libidos.

Takashi Miike never shies away from controversial subject matter. Whether it is taboo subject matter or extreme moments of carnage, his films have no boundaries. That brings us to Visitor Q, who is arguably his most provocative and boundary-pushing film. Before any characters are introduced, Visitor Q begins with a character saying, "Have you ever done it with your dad?” Not only does that one line of dialogue set the stage for what follows, it perfectly encapsulates the essence of Visitor Q, a film that provokes and has no limits to where it might go.

Visitor Q’s premise bears a strong resemblance to Pier Paolo Pasolini's Teorema. Both films revolve around a mysterious stranger who works their way into a family's lives and corrupts them morally. The family in Visitor Q is already dysfunctional before the stranger arrives. The father, a news reporter, has sex with his prostitute daughter, and a bullied son turns his aggression on his mother. While the strangers' intervention accelerates their perversions, he does not introduce something that was not already deep inside of them.

Takashi Miike really leans into elements that make you feel uneasy. Besides the father-daughter sexual encounter that opens with Visitor Q, there is a scene where the father trying to do a news report is sodomized with his microphone by juvenile delinquents and a scene where the stranger milks the mother's breasts. Visitor Q saves its most shocking moment for its finale, where the father kills a co-worker, keeps her corpse, and repeatedly has sex with it. That said, there is an escalation of perversion and carnage that builds to the fever-pitch climax.

Shot in 7 days with a digital camera for 8 million yen ($50,000), it is astonishing what Visitor Q accomplishes. Although there was a basic framework for the narrative, there was a considerable amount of improvising, which allowed the cast and crew a tremendous amount of freedom to create. When it comes to the performances, the cast go all in and their enthusiasm is infectious. Ultimately, Visitor Q is an arthouse film masquerading as an exploitation film.

Visitor Q gets an exceptional release from New Wave Video that comes with a strong audio/video presentation and insightful extras. Highly recommended.

Written by Michael Den Boer