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Satanic Panic (2019)
Surprisingly genuine
The film title "Satanic Panic" carries both an older meaning and newer relevance. Originally it was a reference to the paranoia that gripped the US in the 1980s, springing from the McMartin child abuse trial, which bled into popular culture and blamed horror movies/metal music for negatively influencing or corrupting the youth. Now it could be seen as a premonition of a new dawn of Satanism in the 21st century. The font used in this film's title is that of the 1980s 'video nasty' style and calls to mind the art for other horror movies of the era like Pumpkinhead, Friday the 13th Part 2 and They Live. In fact, one could almost be forgiven for thinking that Satanic Panic is set in the 1980s if it weren't for its inclusion of smartphones, even though in parts it feels as if that's where it really wants to be.
And like those other home video rent-outs of the day, Satanic Panic wears its heart on its sleeve (almost literally): it's very much a tongue-in-cheek, fun, post-college-party dark comedy which veils a serious subject matter, being that the rich and powerful people in the world only get rich and powerful through allegiance to Satan, mammon, or whatever the viewer's frame of reference is. The plot is simple - Sam Craft is a middle class American girl desperate for money and working at a pizza delivery company which she finds below her comfort level. She gets sent to deliver to a large mansion of a well-to-do family and finds herself forced to chase after the main customer when he doesn't give her a tip. Making her way inside the house, she stumbles upon a Satanic ritual and finds herself on the run after the coven decide that she'll make an ideal virgin sacrifice. It's hardly difficult to follow, being a linear story line with no other locations or subplots apart from what's happening to Sam, her aides and the devotees.
Sam is perpetually the outsider caught in between class divides whilst seeking to get out of her social, societal and financial situation - she represents the type of independent free-thinker most disliked by the 'powers that be'. Even though Sam often shows herself to be naive and gullible, the one serious scene in the film where she talks about her love life shows her potential for true inner strength and power, something that continually benefits her throughout the course of the film and leads her to be the eventual victor. However, the fact that she literally 'chases after money' rather than just turning her back is what initially gets her into trouble, and within that there's a warning for us all, it's like the prospector digging furiously deeper for more gold before the mine ceiling collapses in on him. Fortunately though, Sam has the gumption to extract herself from her own situation.
The film markets itself as a horror comedy, a difficult line to tread, and it succeeds in being humorous through its spoken lines rather than its action whilst delivering on the gore quite frequently. One would think that the director could have easily pulled off a non-literary Satanic parody with amusing visual references, but the reality is quite the opposite: the costumes, settings, imagery and Satanic symbolism are quite seriously done, even the details on Danica's headdress (the coven leader) are quite beautiful. One gets the impression that more than one person on the production team knew a little about the topic. The comedy elements come from the one-liners, some of which are quite clever, and there are thankfully no cheap-shots. It's not high-class comedic writing but it is entertaining.
What makes the film watchable apart from the sets and costuming is the performance of three of the actresses - Hayley Griffith as the pizza delivery girl Sam Craft; Rebecca Romijn who does a fantastic job as the sultry, sassy head of the coven Danica Ross; and Arden Myrin, who plays the second-in-command Gypsy. All three have their own unique personalities to bring to the play, though it is arguably Romijn's performance which is a cut above the rest as she channels the suave, cunning nature of a host of femme fatales from Cruella de Vil to Princess Langwidere.
The film makes repeated reference to the influence of Satanism on the modern world, with Jerry O'Connell's character's line "ever wonder why the rich get richer and you stay screwed" echoing Pollack's in Eyes Wide Shut with regard to how those involved in high-brow dark religious rituals are more well-known than one would think. Indeed, the film makes a reference to Eyes Wide Shut more than once, with the masked orgy scene at the end of Satanic Panic seeming to intentionally link to Kubrick's last masterpiece. Additionally, the scene when Sam gets attacked by a sheet in the bedroom is an unexpected reference to the classic 1900s MR James ghost story, "Oh Whistle, and I'll Come to You, My Lad", as well as there being another surprise reference to the Japanese '80s classic Tetsuo: The Iron Man earlier on. As stated, someone on the crew seemed to know their stuff.
Where the film trips up is in the infrequency of the better humour - the good lines do exist, but they're rather few and far between. Additionally, it's all too simple to warrant much thought from the viewer, being little more than a Satanic soap opera, though it doesn't really pretend to be anything more. Furthermore, even though the Satanic ritual brings to a head the ridiculousness of the customer base that Sam has to deliver to (or just humanity overall), it's rather bemusing as to why a serious Satanic Walpurgisnacht/Beltane ritual, replete with quality-looking robes, artefacts, well-researched incantations and ritual sacrifices would get pizzas delivered rather than more traditional seasonal variants, indeed, after the food is delivered that particular plot line goes out the window. One could think that these are casual Satanists, but they're clearly not, for Ross and Gypsy it's a lifelong passion - or maybe the length of time spent in the game has just led them to become increasingly flippant, hence why both their leaderships fall over at various times throughout.
Even though the film is a short, fun, 90 min long romp though a post-80s hangover, there is a seriousness to it which makes it worth considering on another level. Its implication that the rich are only rich through exploitation and 'pulling the hearts out' of the more innocent people is an age-old theme but one that's becoming increasingly more relevant. Since 2019 there has been an insidious increase in the quantity of Satanic references making their way back into popular culture from Avril Lavigne's "I Fell in Love with the Devil" to Billie Eilish's video for "All the Good Girls Go to Hell" and various other links dotted throughout late 2010's advertising. Hip hop and sex culture were the corporate gravy trains of the decade just gone - one that has now run its course - but films like Satanic Panic seem to be hinting at a public grooming for a resurgence of mainstream Satanism and horror of one form or another in the 2020s.
Climax (2018)
Control is an illusion
Climax doesn't deviate from the standards that Noé has set himself since his feature-length début Seul Contre Tous in 1998. A typically extreme, harrowing and depressing affair, Climax, on the surface, tells the story of a troupe of young French dance students who party overnight in their studio and fall prey to one of their number who spikes the punch with LSD. This results in a number of shockingly horrific situations for the students and what starts out as a fun, innocent evening celebrating their craft and achievements turns into an irreversible catastrophe involving rape, abuse, self-harm and death. But beyond that, like many of Noé's films, Climax is a warning of the transient brevity of life's gifts and of not falling prey to the dark temptations of unchecked hedonism.
Climax is directed in a typically disorienting style both in its chronology and its camerawork. The film starts at the end point, rolling the end credits at the start and showing the agonised death of one of the students before going back to the beginning of the evening to present how things got to this point. In this film, as with many others of Noé's, there is a strong focus on camera motion and long takes. After the audition tapes for the troupe, in which we are shown the promising, excited interviewees on a CRT set literally bookended by various tomes and VHS tapes relating to psychosis/psychopathy, the film cuts to the dance hall showing the students practicing their impressive new dance act in its entirety before running on to the start of the party itself all in the same take. In between the interview tapes and the dance routine Noé flashes onscreen one of his trademark blocks of text, this one telling us that EXISTENCE IS A FLEETING ILLUSION. This is a time-honoured warning (for example, in Hinduism the universe itself is thought to be an illusion/maya) but Noé's focus here is on the word 'fleeting'. The good things in life can be short-lived and worth treasuring, and the long dance sequence, which is stunningly choreographed, seems to end too quickly in spite of being a technically and temporally long take. It's so well done that as an audience we don't want it to end.
Noé presents multiple themes in the films and this 'bookending' is just one of them, likely alluding to the bookending of life with birth and death. The dance sequence at the start is long but enjoyable whereas, at the end of the film, when the LSD has taken its full toll and the students all 'freak out' in a bad trip, the sequence is painfully long, but this is a sequence which we do want to end but which drags on. Noé often concentrates on the victims' situation and here, just like the dance students, we experience their mania along with them, wanting the scene to end as it draws itself out with the swirling camera movements showing that everything is 'out of step' - as an audience we have as little control over the film's grip as the students have over their situation. But control is also an illusion, and sometimes terrible unforeseen things happen to us, further reminding us that we should make the most of life's benefits.
The film is split into several sections of long takes, each one with their own distinct camera style. In the opening dance scene the camerawork is as 'controlled' as the dance students themselves, moving with them, allowing them to display their form fully, not missing a moment, it's almost as if the camera has its own choreography. As the situation in the party deteriorates the camera style changes, and at one point, after a few drinks, when the students have an impromptu dance-off, the camera shows the scene from above, constantly rotating, warning us of the chaos soon to come. By the end of the film, the camera cannot hold a straight shot, rotating upside down, tumbling back and forth, with all order, planning and organisation at the whim of the tragedy we see unfolding.
Like with many of his films, Noé uses the significance of colour to full effect. As with Love, he is particularly fond of using red and green, red being of special import in Climax. Whether it's the red of the dance studio floor, the red of the sangria or the red of the emergency lighting, this colour seems to represent a start and end point (motionlessness), the precious blood of life and death, whereas he uses green to show points of transition (motion) between physical and psychological locales. Blue seems to represent a rare environment of safety, like the blue room where two of the girl students make out and calmly fall asleep within, locking out the madness of the dance hall and their partners. When the power in the hall trips out, the lights flash green-blue-green, again representing a transitional state and the end of any safe point where the evening could have been salvaged. White is the bringer of death, and this can come in the form of the snow of the winter outside which slowly envelops and kills a number of the students, or Psyche who spikes the LSD, a tall blonde wearing a short white dress who effectively acts as the orchestrating angel of death. Indeed, as we see her dropping liquid LSD into the whites of her own eyes at the end of the film (which in her interview she mentions her 'flatmate' doing. and the kind of thing which she wants to "get away" from), Noé reminds us that DEATH IS AN EXTRAORDINARY EXPERIENCE before the screens 'whites out' and the movie ends. White, a colour often associated with madness, has fully taken control of and put to rest the events of the film. But it's no mercy kill.
One of the most important aspects of Climax is the emphasis on the choices we make in life. Emmanuelle is the only member of the troupe to have a child who goes everywhere with her, mentioning early in the film that her dancing life has changed as a result of his existence (another theme in Love). Her son Tito ends up representing her own failing to make the right choices, and signifies her self-resentment. Later in the film when she locks Tito in the transformer room she is fully aware of the danger she is putting him in, and when she loses the key (ambiguously intentionally) she has sealed his death warrant. When he electrocutes himself, wearing the significant red of a situational victim, Emmanuelle can't live with her guilt any longer and slits her wrists, but this is not just the guilt of killing her son, but the guilt of not being true to herself. Locking her self-resentment away doesn't work, and it comes back to kill her because she refuses to face it in spite of her earlier protestations that with Tito in tow, she is trying to make the best of a bad situation. Her words are noble, but they are betrayed by her actions which reflect what she really feels. This is where 'pro choice' and 'pro life' come to have equal significance beyond just having kids. Noé tells us that BIRTH IS A UNIQUE OPPORTUNITY and it's one that Emmanuelle has squandered both for herself and her child. We cannot escape ourselves or our true nature and this is just as applicable for Emmanuelle as it is for Psyche, who escaped from Berlin but was ultimately unable to escape from herself.
For those who are well versed in the works of Noé, Climax doesn't offer anything that new: it's Noé in typically extreme fashion exploring themes of life death, pain, suffering and all the ways in which these influence our lives. What's most important is the storytelling and symbolism which Noé injects into the film, showing us that there are signs and warnings all around us in our daily lives telling us to enjoy and savour the positivity of existence. The long dance take at the beginning is similarly savoured by the camera, and us as viewers, and in giving us this indulgence Noé shows us both how fantastic and impressive life can be, but also how much there is to waste if we're not careful or thankful enough.
Love (2015)
A warning on the power of intimacy
Noé has never been one for making upbeat, happy films and Love is no different. It is, in essence, a love story, but moreover a lust story about how we can become imprisoned by our emotions via our need for validation and fulfilment. We can become captive physically, emotionally, situationally, psychologically.
Love is told in typical Noé fashion: starting with the most recent events, it draws us rearward in time through a series of flashbacks before simultaneously presenting us with the root cause of the dire consequences the past has wrecked for the main character, Murphy. Murphy is an American in Paris in film school. One day he meets the beautiful artist Electra at a party and the two find that they have similar views on love, life and a shared need for intensity. They quickly form a relationship and their sex life is very healthy: they have sex frequently, intimately, closely, Electra at one point challenging Murphy to show her just "how tender" he can be. Unfortunately, acting out their sexual fantasies ends up proving the demise of both their relationship and their freedom when they have a threesome with Omi, a slim, pretty 16 year old blonde who moves in next door. Murphy continues a relationship with Omi behind Electra's back and Omi falls pregnant, deciding to keep the baby since she is "pro life" in contrast to Murphy who is "pro choice". Electra and Murphy split, leaving him to bring up the child in his own flat with Omi, a situation with damages his freedom and his creativity, eventually leading to depression. Electra disappears and becomes uncontactable, most likely committing suicide, as she threatens to do if the relationship between her and Murphy collapses.
The film heavily centres on the duality of the past and the present. Within Murphy's Paris flat, the past is usually lit in red, emphasising excitement, sexuality, passion, danger, risk. The present, on the other hand, is lit in green, a safe, benign, calm, but slightly sickly colour being the opposite of the libidinous red. The 'red' scenes are mostly at night whereas the 'green' scenes are in daylight with rain pouring down outside, signifying the sadness of Murphy's inescapable situation. When Murphy is with Electra in the flat the flat is a mess: it is full of film posters, books everywhere, it is a very much an artist's flat. With Omi it is stark, organised, clean, controlled. It is the flat of a family man disciplined by his situation and his female. Murphy feels constantly trapped, keeping one shelf of his 'old life' tucked away in the corner, his old life made entirely of memories of Electra. On the shelf is a VHS (not a DVD, again signifying age and format change) of Noé's first film I Stand Alone, a nod to times gone by, personal development and the fact that, in the end, we are indeed all by ourselves. Murphy remarks in his mind that when one invites a female to live with them it's like "getting in bed with the CIA", absolutely everything is known, there is no privacy, no identity and little freedom.
Of particular note is the sex in the film, which is explicit and frequent. This is typical of Noé, he presents real-life situations unglossed by some ultimative veneer. The sex in the film is not only meant to titillate but to show intensity and intimacy and the beauty of closeness between couples. It draws us into the moment, as it does the featured characters. But it also shows us the difference between types of sex (and types of love): when Murphy and Electra are alone enjoying each other it is beautiful, close, almost enviable, but when they have their threesome with Omi it feels awkward at times, forced, maybe not how they imagined. At one point in the long sex scene with Omi Murphy penetrates Omi from behind with Electra enjoying her on the other side: in this way it is the start of Omi 'getting between' the two of them.
In essence, as with so much of Noé's work, Love is a warning. It is a warning about the consequences of making bad choices. The backwards-style storytelling shows how Murphy gets himself trapped in a situation through nothing but his own lust for Omi – it is entirely his fault after all – and as he says the only thing he is good at is "f---ing things up". In the process of following his emotions, his own lust and need for intimacy, he throws away his relationship with Electra, his creativity, his old life, whereas Omi also falls prey to her emotions by deciding to keep her child (her reasons for being pro-life whilst also being a meat-eater appear emotional rather than rational too, when challenged by Murphy on this point she has no reason other than "well, it's different").
At the end of the film Murphy fantasies/reminisces about holding Electra in the bathtub of his flat, where in reality he is now holding Gaspar, his child, with Omi outside in the hall, outside of his subconscious. The borders of the screen shrink to a square to emphasise the captivity of his situation, the white tiled walls of the bathroom, where his happy memories of Electra began, appearing now like the walls of an asylum or a concentration camp. As is told so many times in the film, love is the greatest thing in life... but with great power comes great responsibility. Love of any kind can be beautiful, exciting, passionate and fulfilling, but it carries risks, and mistreated and unchecked, it can bring unwanted results. Love is more powerful than we often care to admit to ourselves, and with this film Noé is showing us the largely negative consequences of love on freedom. As Murphy is told by one of his ex girlfriends: when you fall in love, you ultimately lose out.
Habitación en Roma (2010)
What we all want
I arrived at this film expecting little but a fleshed-out - pun intended - simple-minded lesbian drama. How wrong, I am pleased to say, I was. Room in Rome is not only the story of two girls who meet one evening and then stay together for one night only, never to see each other again, but it is the story of what each one of us truly wants in our love and sex lives. Something new, fresh, exciting and personal.
Room in Rome presents the story of two girls who share their life stories and physical intimacies one night before realising, against their fantasies, that the cruel fate of reality means they must go back to their partners and real lives the next day. But what makes the film so special, so tangible, is the sense of honesty it awakens in each of us. Those in long-term relationships know all too well that the more time goes on, the less there is to discover. This film is all about discovery: discovery of each other, discovery of sensuality, discovery of oneself. In long-term relationships, discovery is the ultimate fantasy, and one which is so often lacking. In Room in Rome, the two girls discover an attraction for one another which is based on the longings and lackings in their own lives.
The film is split into two physical and psychological areas - the bedroom and the bathroom - and the balcony which acts as a transition area between the two rooms and the two mental states. The bedroom is where the magic happens. It is close, low-lit and sensual. It is where both girls open up to each other personally and sexually. It is all about them, no room for anyone else, as exemplified by the close-up shots, their consistent closeness and nakedness. When the good-looking (objectively) room servicer Max asks for a threesome, he gets refused. There is literally no room for him. This is all about them.
When the morning light hits, the two breakfast outside before moving into the white clinical area of the bathroom, which cleanses the fantasy from their bodies and minds. Indeed, when either enter this area, it's as if they come to their senses and the fantasy is left elsewhere. In the morning, they realise they must go to their respective lives. They hold each other in the bath longingly against the sterile white of the tiles as the camera indulges in long shots, few of which we see in the bedroom, emphasising the foreshadowing of emotional and physical distance. Natasha talks of dressing in white, like the dressing gown she often dons, and white becomes a signifier for wiping clean her experiences, but also denying herself. She spends the entire film in denial whereas Alba spends it mostly being true to herself, but mostly wanting.
Room in Rome is not so much of a sexual film - or an erotic film - but a sensual one. It explores the depth of the senses in a physical and emotional way, and emphasises the necessities of listening to one's emotions in spite of the routines that one finds oneself in and the pits of long-term relationships that solidify our lives. It is up to us to make the latter more like the former and the former less like the latter. For those of us who HAVE spent nights in hotels like those in Room in Rome, we know how special they were. But did they endure - and did those relationships endure? Most of them didn't. What Room in Rome shows us, or reminds us, is what we really want in our sex/sense lives: newness, discovery, excitement, intimacy. But we still want stability - and therein lies the challenge of our relationships, to balance the two. And maybe if we can balance these, then we can have something which endures - unlike that which these two girls unfortunately, and so commonly, left behind.
Año bisiesto (2010)
Extreme.... happiness
Judging by the reviews here, there seems to be a lot of animosity, a lot of grief and lot of misunderstanding about this film. Leap Year, is by it's very nature, exactly that. It's a film about a desperately sad and lonely woman who, through her own sex drive, ends up making a massive jump forward in her life. Emotionally and temporally. It is a film for everyone who has felt the extremities of sexual pleasure and pain, the extremities of desperation, the extremities of loneliness and the extremities of depression.
Laura is a lonely woman with a job as a writer. She spends her time alone doing journalism and fantasising about personal relationships. Compulsively lying to her family to show herself as more interesting than she thinks she is. Needing positive emotional intensity. She lives emotionally vicariously off the young couple opposite her flat - she masturbates while watching them doing everyday tasks, feeding off the closeness they have but that she has never experienced. Closeness and understanding turn her on, they fuel her. She goes out most evenings and pulls random men back to her flat, sleeping with them but gaining nothing. They all leave in the morning with barely a word. She has no idea how to snare men any other way than through sex. To her, sex is the portal to emotional fulfillment. Here is her main failing.
She ends up meeting Arturo who has quite advanced sexual tastes. He likes spanking, he likes asphyxiation, he likes knife play and urolagnia. Because she is desperate to be close to him and because he shows a constant interest in her, she goes along with everything. And here is an important point. She does not go along with him because she is forced to but because she finds she enjoys it. There is no point in the film where she is forced to do anything beyond her will. Every time he buzzes her flat she knows what's coming. She runs to the window, throws the keys out, undresses and waits. The intensity, the vibe between them, the emotional extremity turns her on so much and gives her the emotional closeness she always fantasised about that she wants more. When Arturo urinates on her, and asks her afterwards what it was like, she smiles and says "it was warm". It felt good to her because it was personal, because it was private, taboo, shunned by many, but something explicit to them (a point clearly understood by the BBFC who did not cut this scene even though they are normally outspoken again urinating on women in pornography).
This brings me to the next point - this is not porn. Laura is a plain girl. She is not a porn actress or model. She is plump, she is normal, she is a lonely girl going through depressive motions desperately looking for understanding. This film is not meant to titillate, which is the point of pornography. It is not meant for the viewer. It is about Laura. It is her film. It is a snapshot of her existence. Nothing is glossy or embellished. The flat, her, her sex life, her job. Everything is matte, plain and wanting.
The film's pièce de résistance is the final scene. Laura has been marking days off her calendar to her decided day of suicide, 29th February, the same day her father died. Arturo asks her "what kind of person dies on February 29th?" to which she answers "those that have to". She is convinced she cannot - will not - live beyond this day. She marks it in a big red block on her calendar. A stop, an end point, unseeable beyond. She agrees with Arturo on the ultimate close sexual high - she will be killed by him during sex that night when she outlines to him in a highly erotic scene exactly what she wants him to do to her while she masturbates him. When the evening comes and her brother invades her space because he has broken up with his boyfriend, she wakes up the next day alive and in the same white dress as the night before. She looks at the calendar, realising February has ended, and turns over to March. A new month. A month she thought she'd never see. Each day blank and for her to fill with what she chooses. She is in control once again - maybe more than ever.
If you've ever been depressed, felt extreme loneliness or understand the highs and lows of sexual experimentation and intensity, this is a film for you. It ticks so many boxes so beautifully..... but for everyone else it will likely just seem exploitative. It is far more than that indeed: a very beautiful, dark and emotive piece of film-making.
Yeuk saat (1994)
A surreal piece of Asian exploitation
I'm just recovering from seeing one of the strangest category III releases I've yet clapped eyes on. Red To Kill is an unusual film about a man who rapes a girl from the retarded children home that he runs. Apparently the colour red sets him off and one night, when she comes to his room wearing red after a dance competition, he finally cracks and rapes her in the work area among the toy footballs. Later on he becomes slowly more insane, attempting to rape another co-worker and becomes stronger against the forces that try to smother him like some maddened shaven-headed hulk. He finally meets his demise at the hands of his co-worker while the retarded girl is left with a brain haemorrhage and eventually dies.
Red To Kill really is a strange piece of work. The storyline is unrelentingly bleak and the film's pessimistic conclusion with Ming Ming lying dead on her hospital bed actually had me laughing through disbelief. This film start scarily, climaxes through a grim and gory fight scene and ends on an extremely depressing note. I have to hand it to the director for not pulling any punches with this one.
It really needs some work on a couple of points though - firstly the soundtrack, which is dreadful. The film is filled with pseudo-poignant Asian songs which seem to go down a treat over there but here in Europe come across as awfully naff. Some of these sound so dated and out of place that it's almost impossible to take the 'sad' scenes seriously. As well as that, something must have gone wrong on the transcription from master tape to DVD since the music drops pitch occasionally, which sounds like someone messing about with an old record player, and it really is very amusing.
The second point that needs work it the 'retard' acting which is similarly risible in places. Some of Ming Ming's friends - also retarded - are just bad actors flailing their arms about and making silly faces. Especially in the final scene when Ming Ming dies I noticed one attacking a hospital screen out of grief - retard grief apparently. It really is quite silly.
Overall Red To Kill is a good piece of exploitation though miles below other rape films like Irreversible. If you think the first hour is bad then stick with it - the last 20 mins are definitely worth waiting for. If you're a fan of these kind of films I'd certainly recommend taking a look at this, even though you may not be able to keep a straight face all the way through.
Gwai wik (2006)
Starts fantastically but descends into cringeworthy clichés
The only other Pang Brothers film I had the misfortune of watching was The Eye, which I was told was a must for Asian horror fans, being bewitching and suspenseful. However, one hour into the film I was so bored I couldn't have cared less about where it was going that I turned if off.
So I approached Re-Cyle with caution. In the first half an hour I was pleasantly surprised - the direction wasn't uninteresting like The Eye at all. There was some good cinematography, effective subtle use of suggestion to employ chills and uncertainty, and even the soundtrack was well used.
However, from the point where our heroine goes into the 'other world' the whole thing collapses. The imagery is too reminiscent of Silent Hill to be original, there are more Ringu-like girls with long hair creeping around, and the undead zombies have such laughable makeup they could have walked off a Romero set.
The main problem with this film is not its ideas but their execution. It's a great idea that for every killed or abandoned creature there is a world that they go to to live out their uncared-for lives, but the way the Pang Brother put this across is so cheap and naff that I was laughing and cringing in my seat. Scary babies, zombies, and following a map to get 'out' made the whole thing turn into some 90s computer game. As well as this, the end sequence with its poignant and tearjerky flashbacks and cutesy music was so cheesy I'm surprised my DVD player didn't turn into a wheel of Stilton.
Overall Re-Cycle is not a bad film, but it's certainly not a good one either. If you prefer the classier and more subtle Asian films like Uzumaki, Sorum and The Isle, this won't be for you. It's far too heavy and stodged down by pseudo-meaning, cliché and over the top visuals. However, if you happen to own several Lord of The Rings box sets, some Star Wars costumes and never miss a Stratovarius gig this may be for you.
Inbaku: niku ningyô gyakutai zukan 1 (1991)
Totally plot less, but not totally shocking
Kudos to the makers of Flesh Meat Doll for crafting what is possibly the thinnest film I've ever had the fortune of watching. No characters, no themes, tones or development, the whole thing is just one drawn-out linear act. Two guys kidnap a girl, dismember her, rape her and kill her. In that order.
The thing is, if you're sitting down to watch this, you must have some idea what you're in for. You can't watch a film called Flesh Meat Doll, all in Japanese with no subtitles (at least the version I saw) and not have some clue as to what's coming. On that level, this film isn't as shocking as it could be, probably to do with the poor budget and special effects. Still, it's mildly entertaining if you have an hour to kill or if you're into extreme cinema. And don't get excited by the porn aspect because most things are pixellated, and if you did find this kind of stuff arousing then should be concerned about yourself.
Embrace of the Vampire (1995)
Fails at being erotic, fails at being much at all
I saw this since I had been looking for some more decent vampire movies and this had been recommended to me as having a good story and being erotic. Neither could be further from the truth.
I had no previous knowledge of Alyssa Milano and I don't think I'll have much more after this. Her role as the coy, sheltered convent girl coming of age in a college after the forced desires of her otherwordly vampire lover is hackneyed and boring. It could have been good if it had been at all done well but every part is played with such flatness and lack of conviction that it's embarrassing. And then you have the vampire himself, Martin Kemp - from EastBenders and Spandau Ballet fame... the combination is just too cringeworthy for me to recall.
As for the erotic moments, well, Alyssa does get some of her kit off and then the focus goes soft, the music starts and the whole thing is about as sexy as watching Carry On Camping slowed down. Just when things start to get slightly steamy, such as the only mildly erotic moment between her and a female photographer, the scene ends and we have another long shot of the college the next day. The most laughable bit is the 'orgy' at the end when most of the girls and guys are still clothed, Alyssa does a bit of ogling, bites her lip for the thousandth time and leaves.
All in all, if you're looking for an erotic vampire film or a vampire film of any decent sorts - avoid this one. It's 'late night Dawsons Creek' style of photography and insipid story - not to mention emotional content - makes it a thorough waste of 90 minutes. If you want a really quality vampire film watch Valerie And Her Week Of Wonders or Daughters Of Darkness, but steer clear of this tripe.
Shin akai misshitsu (heya): Kowareta ningyô-tachi (2000)
A shamelessly gratuitous shock-fest
After Red Room 1, the director clearly thought that he hadn't repulsed enough people or gone over the line enough. There were still boundaries to be tampered with and unchartered taboos to explore.
Cue Red Room 2, a rather sick experiment in just how far cinema can go before losing all of its artistic merit and becoming purely an experiment in how thoroughly we can sicken ourselves. Unfortunately all our 'loved' characters bar one from the last installment are next to dead, so we're now presented with four fresh hopefuls.
The drill is exactly the same as the last film - four contenders sit in a room and draw cards. The outcome of the draws decides who will receive a certain 'punishment' as part of the game, who will administer it, who will just watch, and who will decide what it is. The one left alive at the end of all the rounds wins the game. The punishments themselves are all the more intense and immoral than in Red Room 1, involving toothbrushes, hammers, a bowl of vomit [which looks too much like porridge] and one particular scene involving a pregnant girl which is totally over the mark.
The only problem with this film is that it tries so hard to shock its audience that it's very easy to see it for exactly what it is, an exercise in violence and bad taste, so labeling it as 'horror' is giving it too much credit. As well as this, the budget is so obviously low and the effects so unconvincing that we are more sickened by the concepts of the actions taking place than by their physical representations, which at times are laughably fake. Still, the only reason anyone would watch this film is out of some form of twisted curiosity. It nevertheless succeeds in what it sets out to do - to thoughtlessly repulse and to sicken - making it a totally shallow and merit less piece of filming, although it doesn't pretend to be anything else.