lolotehe I was only in the bar for a quick drink. It was hot outside and I figured a cold beer might knock off the oppressive stillness of it all.As promised, the Shiner hit the back of my throat like an alpine breeze. I clutched the bottle to my brow, letting the cool condensation roll over my eyebrows. Luckily, the bar had no windows, so the dark inside was a fine respite from the tenacious sun outside. No windows allowed that surly teen of a star force his rays inside.And then I saw him.He was sitting in a corner, holding his gin and tonic with both hands. For a moment, he raised his hand to his mouth, maybe questioning something? Then, as swiftly as it happened, the thought escaped him and he waved away the lingering memory.I recognized it immediately. I had to talk to him. He was one of the few who had slogged through the same terrible adventure as I. Maybe, by speaking with him, I could alleviate his pain.He didn't even look at me as I approached his well-padded booth."If you had heard I were killed," I asked him. "Would you still be afraid?" "That's when I would be afraid the most," he muttered to his drink.There it was, a shared connection. I had been correct in my assumption about this broken man. He was just like me and had seen the same horrors.He had seen "The Yin and Yang of Mr. Go." We sat in silence, each nursing our own drinks, our own chance at forgetting.He shook his head. "Did you know that lesbian rape scene is the opening credits?" I had to admit I didn't. The scene in question had been so shocking, so unexpected when it happened. The opening credits, I had blissfully ejected from memory."I didn't catch it the first time," he confessed."You watched it a second time?" I asked. "Why?" He closed his eyes and lowered his head. With his chin resting on his chest, he whispered, "I don't know... I don't know...." A deep, ragged breath and sigh. He looked at me, a fellow victim. "If tomorrow is in question..." he started."And your meditation is interpreted by what lies ahead," I answered.Yes, his pain was deep. Seeing it brought back my own pain: the stilted dialog, the terrible soundtrack, the gratuitous breasts that made us both (I am sure) feel skeevy because they looked they they belonged to a 14-year-old. I shuddered and reached for my cigarettes.Not missing a beat, my companion lit a match and held it out. "Puff the magic dragon," he sighed.I was afraid to accept, but only did so to oblige him. We sat in the still of the room, smoke and nightmares swirling around us.And when he cried, I only held out my arm to comfort him. Like our connection in the bar, it was brief and disturbing. We had both seen the horror. It was not something we could share with others.We both knew our warning would fall on deaf ears. "But Jeff Bridges is in it!" our companions would say. "What about that narration by Christopher Lee?" Oh, what of it? Of all the things that should have made it right, there was only so much wrong a man could bear. James Mason is a fine actor, yes, but playing a half-Chinese\half-Mexican crime lord is too great a burden. And the script, written by Burgess Meredith? No finer form of torture has been devised, even if directed by the man himself. No. It was too great a passion that burned in that idea and all involved were singed by its efforts."You know that Peter Lind Hayes played Mr. Zabladowski in "The 5000 Fingers of Dr. T?" I asked. I hoped to lift the mood."Very atomic," my companion said, and then laughed. "I guess he got to lay some pipe!" We both laughed until tears covered our faces. Then we cried and held each other. We had been there. We had seen it. We had both been through "The Yin and Yang of Mr. Go".

mjrkong I picked this up at the Dollar Tree along with a bottle of Ajax dishwash liquid, a box of Fiddle Faddle and some Tums. All are gone except for Mr. Go (facilitating my consumption of the Tums) which still remains.Now, not all $1 discs suck. I've picked up old Sherlock Holmes flicks w/ Basil Rathbone for a buck and enjoyed them thoroughly. But Mr. Go? Ach du lieber! I really can't add anything to the madness. Worst of all, I can't get that bizarre song out of my head, when Jeff & Jack go zipping around Hong Kong in a couple of rikshaws. "Got to be free... Freee.. weee!". WTF!?!

crankscorner I love dollar store DVDs, and this one was a bargain, 2/$1.00, a double feature of "Mr. Go" and "Winterset", so I actually paid 25 cents for this flick. Considering that we don't have cable or satellite, I'll take cheesy old spy films over crap "reality" shows any day.The cover of the DVD doesn't mention James Mason at all, nor Broderick Crawford (although he has a tiny, ignorable part)...and it's a true hoot to see a very young Jeff Bridges doing many things I'm sure he'd like to forget...if ever I have the chance, I want him to autograph this DVD.For its time, some of the stuff in here is very overt; there's the Commie lesbian a la the Madchen in Uniform/Lotte Lenya character in From Russia With Love, but in this she actually gets close to down and dirty with the cute female lead. The male/male homosexual scenes were, for the time it was made, quite graphic; I'd be surprised if this ever saw the big screen, uncensored, in the USA, unless it made the drive-in circuit late in the 1990s.Younger viewers must understand, there were many, many more spy/espionage films made during the 60s and 70s than the classic James Bond and notable Flint movies. I haven't looked it up yet, but I'd put this movie in there with The Balearic Caper, something I saw on channel 9 in So Cal during the 60s. Spy spoof, sorta, but somewhat serious, too. You must keep in mind, we'd been doing duck-and-cover drills in grade school; good, bad, and ridiculous spy films, along with TV shows like The Man From U.N.C.L.E., were the pop culture way of dealing with a persistent and real fear.Yeah, it's not a great movie, and it might be better watched while high, because trying to make much sense of it is futile or brain-cramping. My husband wants a copy of the soundtrack just because it is so 1970s TV movie chipper and incongruous; a close listen to the lyrics might be quite...trippingly disturbing.Don't try to watch this as "Art" or "cinema", just appreciate it as a product of its time, no better or worse than it should be, considering what might have happened to it between inception and release. Watch it as a double feature with "Blacula", and keep part of your mind tuned to What We Were Afraid Of during the time these movies were made.Sheesh...it's just a cheap DVD. But I'm bummed that my copy of Mad Dog Morgan, starring Dennis Hopper as an Australian outlaw, got digital hiccups during the last 1/4 or so, and I doubt that any of the other copies at the buck store wouldn't have the same defect.

JasparLamarCrabb It's impossible to tell what Burgess Meredith was thinking when he directed (and co-wrote) this idiotic mix of intrigue, comedy, zen, action, and whatever else you can think of. NONE of it works...it's sloppy, deadly dull and full of the most bizarre directorial touches imaginable (and not in a good way!) Slow motion, endless dissolves, jerky editing...and unbelievably intrusive music conspire to make this one of the worst films ever made. James Mason is a Chinese espionage broker who gets student Jeff Bridges mixed up in some blackmailing shenanigans in Hong Kong. Meredith appears as Mason's acupuncturist and the great Jack MacGowran appears as a CIA operative. There's a lot of fighting, a lot of smoking of one thing or another and a really nasty lesbian. It adds up to nothing. Broderick Crawford is in it too, but aside from appearing toothless, offers nothing.