Whenever I’ve told people about the film RAW FORCE, I tend to mention its alternate title: KUNG FU CANNIBALS. “Oh, that’s a much better title” they usually say. Sure, it does a far better job of grabbing your attention, but I disagree that it’s a better name than “Raw Force.” “Kung Fu Cannibals” doesn’t sum up a film where awkward sex is interrupted by a neo-nazi busting the door down and dousing the room with gasoline. It doesn’t represent a film where the heroes are led by a feisty cruise ship owner with a thick Jersey accent. And it certainly doesn’t prepare you for a story where the villain is an Asian Hitler look-a-like who uses a haunted island to operate his slave trading ring. The name RAW FORCE does. It cuts right to the heart of this supernatural, kung fu, sexploitation comedy and sums it up in the only two words that are able to do this psychotic Grindhouse flick justice. It’s primal and in your face, firing straight from the id.