loosely constructed, visually rich and 
highly explicit meditation on man's relation to himself and the world around him, Subconscious Cruelty further blurs that already shaky line between art house pretension and unrepentant sleaze. Though the framework revolves around three (or arguably four) stories, this Canadian time bomb concealed in celluloid is definitely way beyond the land of Amicus and EC Comics. Best known to the film festival crowd at the time for their involvement in the annual Fantasia film festival, director Karim Hussain (who later went on to shoot Hobo with a Shotgun and multiple Hannibal episodes) and producer Mitch Davis (who previously collaborated on Davis' directorial debut, Divided into Zero) had to endure an obscenity bust and the near loss of the film's negative due to legal entanglements, finally completing this opus after years of work. The final result is so odd, aggressive, and perpetually vicious, one has to admire the spirit of the piece even if it can't be termed "enjoyable" in the traditional sense.
between a young man and his pregnant sister; his obsessive, sexualized need to control her leads to a particularly nasty birthing scene that no doubt sent 
unprepared viewers scrambling for the exits. Things take a turn for the lighter in the nonlinear second act, "Rebirth," a sort of nature worship bacchanal in which naked free spirits form a bloody communion with the earth, trees, and each other. It's quite upbeat and funny in a particularly bent way; pagans in particular should find this one enjoyable. The harshest of the bunch, "Right Brain/Martyrdom," is saved for last; s a man indulging in some mechanical self-gratification is suddenly transported into a nightmarish landscape of genital mutilation, clawed female demons, and a mock crucifixion tableau with a particularly nasty punchline. Don't say you weren't warned!
Men behind the Sun gets through unscathed. The film is transferred in its original 4:3 aspect ratio and looks quite detailed and colorful; grain inherent in the 
picture is due to the original materials. Though light on dialogue, the film can be played either dubbed in Japanese or in its original English with non-removable Japanese subtitles. The audio is more immediately impressive; a great deal of work went into the disturbing, heavily layered soundtrack, and the oppressive surround mix featuring Teruhiko Suzuki's score often equals or even overwhelms the already extreme visuals. Extras include the festival and Japanese trailers and a delirious making-of featurette, which includes some handy tips on how to create living, writhing maggots for the budget-conscious filmmaker. 
the arduous 
process of bringing this nightmarish vision to the screen. Both director and producer are heavily featured, along with plenty of behind the scenes anecdotes and a framing device connected to... Christmas? Davis' Divided into Zero (34m14s), which presents a harrowing look at one male persona through the prism of three different ages, turns up here as well, completely uncensored, along with a making-of featurette, a trailer, and a frank, down to earth Davis intro. Not enough? You also get text interviews with Hussain and Davis, the short film "La Derniere Voix" by Hussain and Julien Fonfrede, snippets of Davis' early short films, unreleased audio tracks by David Kristian, a photo gallery, and Rick Trembles' appropriately over-the-top comic strip rendition of the main feature. The whole thing comes packaged in a nifty fold-out (and very brown) cardboard case with an insert booklet containing notes by Marcus Stiglegger, in both English and German depending on which way you start reading it.
scenes in particular faring better as those hot, intense reds don't bleed anymore. DTS-HD 5.1 English and German audio options 
are both strong for a low-budget '90s mix, with optional subtitles in both languages also provided. The full making-of doc is included along with Divided into Zero (both from the usual preexisting SD masters), while a new interview with Hussain (16m17s) takes a look back at the long process (over six years) of getting the film to completion, the 16mm lensing, the reason the credits look so rough, and the logistics of doing the new HD transfer for this "fun, charming time capsule." Also included are an image gallery and the bonus Davis short, "God's Little Girl" (15m54s), which is visually stunning and very, very grim. Also included are an image gallery, couple of trailers, German liner notes by Marcus Alexander Stiglegger, and bonus trailers for Stelvio Massi's Il commissario di ferro and Sergio Martino's insane American Tiger. 