In its decade-long prime (mid-80s to mid-90s), Hong Kong’s pop cinema prized energy over subtlety. Movies were fast, bold and crazy; that’s how they became cult items for Western fanboys. Hong Kong’s Category III (adults-only) movies had a vigorous, rigorous notion of violence: if a man is to be bad, make him unspeakably, all-but-unwatchably baaaad. That surely applies to the killer in director Herman Yau’s rancid, notorious melodrama, supposedly based on fact. The English title means nothing; the original, which translates as “The Eight Immortals Restaurant Barbecue: Human Pork Buns,” gives some flavor of the savor. Wong plays a psycho who has come to Macao, killed a local restaurateur and his family, and garnishes his cuisine with their severed body parts. This explicitly grotesque movie is not to be seen on a full stomach — maybe not to be seen at all — but it’s the most forthright depiction I know of the soullessness of sadism; there’s nothing romantic or Lecter-like about this cannibal. The loopiest thing about Wong’s dead-eyed performance is that its daring was recognized by the colony’s film establishment; Wong won the Hong Kong Film Award for best actor of 1993.
The role of Goeth, commandant of the Plaszow death camp in Steven Spielberg’s Oscar-winning film, seems to allow for little subtlety; the man shoots Jews for target practice. But now this capricious monster strides into the basement of his barracks mansion and sees his maid, the lovely Jewish internee Helen Hirsch (Embeth Davidtz). Though he had chosen her as window dressing for the mausoleum he runs, her strength and grace have touched him. For a crucial moment, as we see on Fiennes’ face, evil pauses to consider itself. Could I have a decent feeling? Could I love this base creature, this beautiful thing, this Jewess? Just as quickly, and subtly, Fiennes’ face tells us no. Goeth’s fists flail out, not so much at Hirsch as at the recognition that he is doomed to solitude by his wickedness.
In light of the Material Girl performing at Super Bowl XLVI, TIME takes a look at her life and career, both of which have been lived firmly in the public eye.