A pretty non-descriptive title, US audiences know iterations of “The Island” via a flop 1980 adaptation of a Peter Benchley novel as well as a not-especially-successful unrelated 2005 Michael Bay sci-fi flick. Also unconnected to those two, we go to Hong Kong for another flick called The Island.

School teacher Mr. Cheung (John Sham) takes a small contingent of students to explore the uninhabited island of Tung Ping Chao. However, they soon learn that the location doesn’t sit as unpopulated as he expected.

Instead, Mr. Cheung and the rest encounter three brothers (Lung Chan, Jing Chen and Billy Sau Yat Ching) who seem less than stable mentally. When their mother (Lap Ban Chan) passes, they go completely over the edge and use Mr. Cheung and his pupils as the objects of their violent misguided grief.

According to the publicity blurb that accompanied this Blu-ray, The Island “is Hong Kong’s answer to Deliverance, Texas Chain Saw Masscare, Hills Have Eyes and Motel Hell”. How could I resist?

Truth to tell, outside of Deliverance, I can’t claim to think all that highly of any of those movies. Still, the press release at least stirred curiosity.

To be sure, Island delivers a warped experience. If one wants a subtle and sympathetic portrait of mental illness, one needs to look elsewhere, as the movie paints the residents of Tung Ping Chao as cartoony nut cases.

Actually, as the ailing mother of the banana bonkers brothers, Lap Ban Chan manages a more subdued performance and that allows her to seem more overtly wicked. However, she dies early in the story so she exerts little active impact on the final product.

Though I assumed Island would start with Mr. Cheung and the kids, we instead go straight to Tung Ping Chao and meet the mentally ill family members. I guess the filmmakers felt this would increase tension.

This seems to follow the Hitchcock belief that viewers experience more anxiety when they know a ticking bomb threatens characters unaware of that threat. From that point of view, Island should unsettle viewers because they know Mr. Cheung and company will walk into a dangerous situation.

In this case, though, I think the decision to telegraph the risks that await the teacher and students becomes a bad choice. I feel Island would work better if seen totally from the protagonists’ POV and let us discover the dangers with them.

Less overtly bonkers antagonists would help as well. Though their personalities vary somewhat, the Fat brothers still come across as so consciously “off” that they don’t really work, especially since Mr. Cheung and the students initially mix and socialize with them.

Again, this becomes where a version of The Island that doesn’t come with the Fat-centered prologue would work better. In the opening, we see what happens to a woman who declines to marry one of the brothers, so this reveals their violent potential to us right off the bat.

As noted, this keeps the story in the Hitchcockian vein since the viewer knows what the Fat boys could do before the protagonists do. The approach simply doesn’t work for The Island, though that remains partly the case because the brothers seem so unstable when they mix with Mr. Cheung and the rest.

The “percolating tension” theme also flops because it takes so long for the plot to really go anywhere. Although the threat of the Fat clan escalates gradually, it fails to really feel dire until fairly late in the story.

Even then, the situation seems oddly inert because the Fat boys don’t come across as particularly powerful. They never seem like they enjoy an obvious upper hand over the protagonists in terms of lethal abilities or firepower.

Sure, they’re nuttier so that makes them more willing to create chaos. Nonetheless, they lack the real strength and menace they need for us to accept they could terrorize Mr. Cheung and the students the way they do.

All of this leaves The Island as a lackluster mix of action and horror. The basic story enjoys potential but as executed, it fails to connect.

The Island appears in an aspect ratio of 1.85:1 on this Blu-ray Disc. Expect a generally positive presentation.

Sharpness worked well. Softness crept in at times – primarily in wider shots - but the majority of the film felt accurate and well-defined.

I witnessed no issues with jaggies or shimmering, and edge haloes didn’t appear. Grain felt natural, while print flaws didn’t cause concerns.

Colors went for a largely natural impression. The tones felt well-rendered and full.

Blacks seemed deep and dark, while shadows offered nice clarity and delineation. This turned into a mostly fine transfer.

Even by 1980s standards, the LPCM monaural track for Island seemed iffy. The looped dialogue always sounded artificial and came with some moderate edginess.

Music and effects showed decent range but also came with a fair amount of roughness, and the whole package tended to seem somewhat shrill. All of this combined for a below-average mix.

Two audio commentaries appear here, the first of which comes from film historian Frank Djeng. He delivers a running, screen-specific look at crew, cast and performances, historical and social domains, sets and locations, genre domains and a few more production elements.

For the movie’s first half, Djeng gives us a pretty good overview of those topics. He tends to narrate the film too much in the second half, though, and that leaves this as an inconsistent track.

For the second commentary, we hear from film historians Mike Leeder and Arne Venema. Both sit together for their running, screen-specific discussion of essentially the same topics found in Djeng’s track.

This inevitably leads to a fair amount of repetition, though Venema and Leeder get into the subjects from a different POV enough of the time to make sure we get a decent number of new insights. That said, I wish Eureka asked Djeng, Leeder and Venema to all sit together rather than record separately, as the two tracks simply overlap too much.

Next we get a 22-minute, 34-second featurette called Surviving the Shoot. Taped in 2023, it features a live Q&A with director Po-chih Leong.

The chat looks at Leong’s memories of the Island shoot. He gives us a solid overview of various production domains.

In addition to the film’s trailer, we conclude with a 16-minute, 57-second piece called Tony Rayns on The Island. As implied by the title, this one brings an interview with film critic Tony Rayns.

He covers cast and crew, genre domains, Hong Kong cinema of the era and related topics. Though he inevitably repeats some info from the commentaries, Rayns makes this a tight little summary.

As a stab at action and horror, The Island comes with potential thrills. However, the end product lacks strong pacing and fails to become anything especially compelling. The Blu-ray brings generally positive visuals with flawed audio and a mix of bonus features. I wanted to like The Island but it just fails to gel.