The Many Faces of Tura Satana

Tuesday to Scared to Watch It Twice: Week Three

I think that instead of "Tuesday Too Scared to Watch It Twice", we should've called this feature "Tuesday Too Disgusted to Watch It Twice." But, be that as it may, Missy Yearian of Chickapin Parish and myself are back after a couple weeks with two more horror flicks that have creeped us out to the point that we avoid them (though we may admire them, nonetheless.) So jump right in, and let us know what you think of our squeamishness...

House on the Edge of the Park (1980)

Make no mistake, this is not a movie for everyone. It took a full five years for it to be released in the U.S. Banned in Singapore, Finland, the U.K., Canada and Norway; denied ratings classification in Australia and also released unrated in America. One of Britain's notorious "video nasties". Chock full of rape, torture and sadism.

I cannot deny that this movie enthralled me. I found it distasteful at times, but nevertheless I was fascinated by it, and also cannot deny that it is a fine little piece of filmmaking, for what it is. But there can be no question that it was designed to titillate, and to do so using some very questionable means. More than most of the movies today that get labeled "torture porn", this is a movie I would certainly classify as such.

The main problem I have with it is in the depiction of rape. This is the kind of story in which the rape victims actually start to "enjoy" themselves and give in willingly to their rapists. In other words, at times it feels like some guy's warped sexual fantasy, and I found it pretty damn uncomfortable in parts. There's a certain hypocrisy here--on the surface the film is condemning the callousness of these characters, but truth be told, you're intended to get off on watching what they do.

It walks a dangerous moral line, that's for sure. And yet, I'd rather have a horror flick like this which challenges me and makes me uncomfortable than most of the cookie-cutter, soul-numbing drek we get spoonfed these days.

While I'm not sure what it says about me, I admittedly eat stuff like this up. Maybe it's because it disturbs me--maybe I find it somehow cathartic to deal with material like this in a relatively safe way. It's the kind of movie that definitely provokes strong emotion.

Stepping back from it, I can certainly see how people would have problems with it. Much of the movie is simply one tense, gut-wrenching rape or near-rape after another. And when you watch a rape scene in which the supposed victim begins to "get into it", there's no denying it leaves a bad taste in your mouth. And yet, I somehow relish the power the movie has to provoke strong emotion, even if that emotion is disgust.



...Now on to Missy, with a look at an HGL "classic"...

The Gore Gore Girls (1972)

I love Herschell Gordon Lewis. Never in my life have I encountered a director so uninterested in making a quality film. What can I say? I love the arrogance required to make his kind of films. The man has got cajones.

I sat down to take in The Gore Gore Girls as my first HGL film. That’s right. I hadn’t seen Blood Feast or The Wizard of Gore or anything else before sitting down to what has rightly been called an “unwatchably offensive” film.

Reading the description of the film (strippers are being hunted and murdered one by one in a grisly fashion) confirmed for me a deep-down belief that this would either be the best film of all time or the worst. I was getting excited to see this Gore Gore Girls movie. Unfortunately, it is neither of those things. Oh, it’s bad. It’s terrible, in fact. But it’s not the worst, and as such, it sort of falls into that netherworld of “Meh” that bums me out so much.

Why then, you must ask, am I writing about this for the Tuesday Too Scared to Watch It Twice? It’s quite simple, really. This movie is filled with a gleeful hatred and a series of images one can never be prepared to see. From the first murder, we realize that the French have nothing on bodily mutilation. Our first stripper’s face is all but obliterated with the most aggressive facial stabbing I have ever seen. I’m pretty sure Lewis was just chopping up chicken parts. Another stripper is… how shall I say this? Tenderized? And, you know, that’s all well and good, and if the murders from then on were of the average stab-bleed-dead variety, then I likely wouldn’t think anything of it.

But then comes the boob-abuse. During a particularly brutal scene, our killer decides to cut off the nipples of a woman. Out of one nipple spills white milk. Out of the other spills chocolate milk.

I’ll just let that sink in for a moment.

The murders in this film are done with such wanton glee that it’s hard to notice the underlying tone of hatred. But this film does hate women. There is no way around it. To make a joke of not just the sex industry but also the ways in which the female body can be mutilated and destroyed is a dangerous choice and one that Lewis failed in making.

Still, try as I might, I can’t quite dismiss it. It’s quite a picture. And as much as I am sure it’s never going to be put in my DVD player again (even though I own it), I am also sure I will always be talking about it. And that’s worth something, right? Right?

Tuesday Too Scared to Watch It Twice: Week Two

After a week's hiatus, the stars have once again aligned, and Missy Yearian of Chickapin Parish and myself are in your face at last with more examples of horror flicks we're too chickenshit to ever sit down and watch again. Gape in amazement at our weak-heartedness this week, as we bemoan how deeply traumatized we were by two of the true standouts of exploitation cinema, past and present...

Inside (2007)

I actually reviewed this bit of French depravity right here in the Vault, not long after it first came out. And if memory served, I described it as a film which "challenges the definition of entertainment." And now, a couple of years later, I stand by that assertion. Yes, Inside is an excellent movie, and yes it deserve recognition as one of the must-see horror flicks of the past decade. Nevertheless, after that first must-see experience, I can honestly say I have no plans of ever putting it in my DVD player again.

Maybe it hits a little too close to home. Maybe being a parent is what makes it difficult to get through. Perhaps it's the brutal realism of all the gore, and how far removed it is from the cartoonishness that usually makes extreme violence in film more palatable. Simply put, Inside packs one hell of a punch and doesn't let up. It's far from what anyone would describe as a fun bit of recreation.

Alexandre Bustillo and Julien Maury are no doubt to be commending for crafting a superior thriller. In fact, they've done their job so well that I still get chills thinking about the things I saw as their movie washed over me in the dark that night. It took me to places I didn't want to go, and held me there far longer than I was comfortable staying. Yes, this is in some ways the mark of great art, and I'd be hard pressed to say that Inside isn't great art. It probably is. I just can't stomach that much unpleasantness. Call me what you want. I've heard worse.

Ironically, despite my trepidations, I will say that it's a film that should be seen, even if it's only that one time. It's raw, powerful, and never anything less than completely gripping. Just prepare to be disturbed. The subject matter is certainly beyond the pale for anyone who is merely a casual genre viewer. And I'm sure there are plenty of hardcore fanatics more than equipped to sit through repeated viewings of a film about a stalker trying to rip an unborn fetus from a woman's belly. I'm just not one of them.



...And now, I pass the mic to Missy, who shares her aversion to Meir Zarchi's nasty ode to rape revenge...

I Spit on Your Grave (a.k.a. Day of the Woman) (1978)

It took me about twenty-eight years to have the courage to watch this movie. No, really, I thought about it for years before I finally queued it up and had the courage to sit down and watch it. For the first ten or fifteen minutes, I was really okay. I thought, “Gee. This isn’t so bad. I’m sure it can’t get much worse.”

And then there’s that rape scene. Twenty-six minutes of sexual violence and four moments of penetration is more than I can handle and keep my sanity intact. It should be more than anyone can handle. While viewing Jenny Hill’s abuse, I had the though that I must be implicated in the proceedings because I sat there complacently and watched. It’s a very Kitty Genovese situation, no? Of course, this idea of implicating the viewer is nothing new, and in fact, it’s been used to much greater effect by directors from Wes Craven (The Last House on the Left) to Michael Haneke (Funny Games). But the complicity in I Spit on Your Grave is different than the other films that employ this technique. I Spit on Your Grave covers your very skin in its filth. Never before have I felt so compelled to shower after seeing a film.

Ultimately, what makes the difference in Meir Zarchi’s film is that it is filled with hate and misogyny. No matter how hard people try to defend it, you just can’t get away from the fact that it murders its own believability in the service of its own misogynistic impulses. This becomes clear in the two scenes in which Jenny seduces her abusers. There is no excuse for such blatant woman-hating, and I myself find myself sickened just thinking about the scene in which Jenny climbs into a bathtub with Johnny and gives him a handjob—even though that handjob is followed by a castration.

Many people hold this film up as a perfect example of Grindhouse exploitation cinema, and they wouldn’t be wrong to do so. However, that descriptor (I think we can all agree here) certainly doesn’t mean the film is good or that’s it’s worth a moment of your time. And while I fully admit to seeing rape revenge films due to a sadistic revenge fantasy I myself harbor, the justice in this film is not worth the abuses you’ll endure to witness it.

When Jenny stumbles through the woods thinking she’s escaped her rapists, she finds herself once again in their clutches. This happens again and again, and as an audience member, you’ll feel what Jenny feels. You’ll beg for the scene to end. You’ll beg to be set free. And when you are, it’ll be much too late. This film will have gained power over you, and it’s something from which you might never recover.

Tuesday Too Scared to Watch It Twice: Week One

As if there isn't enough goodness already going on in the month of October, I'm excited to kick off a new series tonight that I'll be undertaking along with the stupendous Missy Yearian of Chickapin Parish. I've been invited by Missy to select, for each Tuesday of the month, a film that I've seen only once, and can't seem to bring myself to ever go near again (on Thursdays this month, we'll be selecting our "Guilty Pleasure" horror movies, so stay tuned for that, as well)...

Cannibal Holocaust (1985)

For me, the choice for the very first week was beyond easy. If you read the Vault regularly, you may be aware that a while back, I finally decided to check out Ruggero Deodato's Cannibal Holocaust for the very first time. Not only did I see it for the first time, but I actually live-tweeted the hellacious experience, and then even posted the transcript of that live-tweet right here. Talk about being a trooper--the things I do for you people!

Watching CH was, for me, an intensely odious experience which I would have no desire to ever revisit, if I should live 100 years. I enjoy a good old-fashioned disturbing horror flick as much as the next maniac, but this thing was just a different breed altogether. I felt like I needed to take a shower after seeing it, and in a lot of ways, it really has never left my psyche since. There are times I wish I could "unwatch" it, to tell you the truth. It was that disturbing.

I don't mean disturbing in a "Wow, isn't this so cool! We're being so rebellious and subversive by watching this!" kind of way. This was disturbing in the true sense of the word. I was upset at the very fact that the movie had been made. Particularly this was due to the graphic and very real animal torture and murder that occurs in the film, which had me on the verge of becoming sick, as a result of both physical and moral revulsion. The rape and torture that peppers the film is gratuitous in the worst way, and makes the viewer feel like something has been taken from him for having watched it. And then there's the sad, cynical attempt to sell me on some kind of important message being conveyed here about man's inhumanity to man. Spare me.

As I watched, I took turns getting angry, disgusted and depressed. Not exactly what I'd call an ideal viewing experience. Hell, if I wanted to go through that emotional range, I'd jump on the subway. I suppose in a way, one could argue that this makes it an effective film, by virtue of the fact that it provoked such a strong reaction. Normally, I'd agree, but in this case I make an exception. Because it's not really all that well-made or constructed; it just deals in gravely upsetting subject matter, making it easy to conjure those reactions. I might get strong emotional reactions watching 1940s concentration camp footage; this does not make the documentary I'm watching an effective film per se--it simply means I'm being shown some pretty messed up stuff.

I'm honestly not sure if I'm glad I at least put myself through the experience of watching it once, or if I regret ever doing that to my brain. In any event, one thing I am totally sure of is that I will never be watching Cannibal Holocaust again.



And now, Ms. Yearian's pick for Week 1 of Tuesday Too Scared to Watch It Twice...

Irreversible (2002)

First a confession: I have not seen all of Irreversible. I will never see all of this film. It was—to be reductive—upsetting. I have never seen a film that had as visceral an effect on me as Irreversible. It’s a film I would never recommend, and in fact, I often actively discourage people from seeing it. What is it, you ask? Why it’s only a bunch of sensationalism wrapped in a pseudo-art package.

Irreversible is a rape revenge film played in reverse. The beautiful Alex is brutally raped and beaten in a Paris underpass, and her boyfriend and ex-lover enlist the help of criminals to help them find the perpetrator to exact revenge.

Yes, it seems rather par for the course for a rape revenge film, but what this film lacks in originality, it makes up for in brutality. Watching this film is like doing a tour of ‘Nam. From the fire extinguisher face-bashing to the anal rape scene, this film is the very definition of “too much.” While it pretends to be an art film with the content of a Grindhouse film, it’s really a series of visual assaults pretending to contain a message.

One walks away from Irreversible feeling… well, feeling traumatized. In fact, after walking out during a particularly awful scene, I got into my Chevy Corsica (her name was Ellie) and drove in the wrong direction on the interstate for a solid hour before realizing what I’d done and finally turning around and heading back from Boone’s Lick, Missouri.

While I think the film is an overrated mess, there’s at least one thing I can say for it. It had a stronger effect on me that any other film I’d seen. And yes, I know it supposedly got better as the film went on, but I’d seen enough. I don’t need to see the rest of the film to understand the horror of the film’s events. Hell, I didn’t need the first third of the movie either. But one thing’s for sure, the film managed to shake me, and I’ve never seen another like it.

VAULTCAST: Talking with Meir Zarchi, Steven Monroe & Sarah Butler of I SPIT ON YOUR GRAVE!

One of the privileges I've been afforded since launching The Vault of Horror is being able to interact with those individuals directly involved with the films that have affected me over the years. I had just such an experience earlier this week when, after catching the remake of I Spit on Your Grave at a screening in Manhattan, I was afforded the opportunity to speak about it with the film's director, Steven Monroe; the star, Sarah Butler, who plays Jennifer Hill; and of course, the one and only Meir Zarchi himself--both producer of the remake and director of the still-controversial 1978 original.

It's my distinct pleasure to be able to share this with you, and I'm grateful to all participants for pulling no punches and expecting nothing less in return, especially Mr. Zarchi in our discussion of the much-debated issues of misogyny. Also, thanks to Alexis Hoyt and the rest of the fine people at Falco Ink for reaching out and making these interviews possible. You can listen in on the embedded player below, or proceed to the official Vaultcast page for download...

I Spit on Your Grave, Version 2.0: All the Depravity, with Half the Misogyny!

If you were one of those who were concerned that Cinetel Films' remake of Meir Zarchi's infamous grindhouse "classic" I Spit on Your Grave was going to be a tame, watered-down, "safe" affair--well, allow me to inform you that you need not be concerned. Steven R. Monroe's much-debated new version, I'm here to announce, is not at all afraid to shock, disturb, and thoroughly get inside your head. In a time when horror film seems to be devolving more and more into self-parody, I Spit on Your Grave is a raw, unflinching, grueling experience, lacking even an ounce of post-ironic camp. And dare I say it, a superior film to the original.

Granted, many might point out that this isn't really saying much, considering that the original I Spit on Your Grave isn't exactly Suspiria or The Shining. What it did have going for it, however, was that raw power to deeply disturb, and I can honestly say that, despite a few choices that reflect a different mindset at work than 30 years ago, on the whole the film manages to pack a similar punch to the original, while at the same time giving us a better-made and more engaging motion picture.

One of the biggest problems I always had about the original was the way in which it was angled as some sort of pro-feminist ode to the empowerment of women, when if you come down to it, it is more a shamelessly misogynistic attempt to titillate through the gratuitous depiction of rape and dehumanization of women. This time around, Monroe and company manage to create a work that doesn't cop out, yet chooses to take a higher moral ground, if that makes any sense at all. Don't get me wrong, the film isn't without a certain element of sordid titillation, but one never gets the sense of over-the-top sleaziness one gets from the original.

For those not aware, I Spit on Your Grave (or ISOYG) tells the story of one Jennifer Hill (played here by Sarah Butler), a beautiful young writer who is brutally raped by a gang of backwoods hooligans while staying at a secluded cabin, only to escape and later wreak a bloody vengeance upon all of them. This time around, those same basic elements are still in place, and in fact there is even a certain attempt to duplicate the gritty, washed out look of '70s-era grindhouse cinema, for which kudos go to British cinematographer Neil Lisk. This technical aspect is just another area in which this remake trumps the original.

I would be loathe to say that I "enjoyed" the film more than I "enjoyed" the original, since I can't feel comfortable using that word in relation whatsoever to either version. This is grim, cringe-inducing film-making of the highest order, and rest assured that there were more than a few hoity-toity reviewers at the sneak preview I attended uttering exclamations of disgust and glancing around the room in disbelief that we were all actually witnessing what was happening on screen. Nevertheless, what I will say is that I was able to appreciate the quality of the finished product, and the way it took me back to my younger days, in which my ironic, angsty self would actively push the envelope to seek out the most disturbing cinematic experiences possible. I don't do that so much anymore, and I admit a movie like ISOYG is no longer really my cup of tea. But one cannot help but be impressed with the chances it takes, and the bold manner in which Stuart Morse's script embraces the material head-on.

I'm happy to report that the film-makers did make the decision to somewhat truncate the original's infamous 30-minute rape scene (nearly one third of the entire running time of the movie). Nevertheless, just because it is cut short from the longest rape scene in movie history, doesn't exactly make it a walk in the park, or anything short of thoroughly unsettling. And frankly, if you're the kind of person who's going to find fault with less rapiness in your I Spit on Your Grave, well, I don't feel a really compelling need to know you. Also, Morse's script makes the wise choice of removing all the contemptible nonsense about Jennifer seducing the man who raped her just so she could punish him. That little bit of high-grade woman-hating was thankfully excised, but make no mistake--retribution is still handily meted out.

Which brings me to my next observation, having very much to do with the revenge aspect of the film. In general, I'm all about revenge movies. Give me Death Wish, Braveheart, or any number of cheesy Steven Segal flicks, and I'm instantly and perversely happy. Hell, you're listening to someone who watched Mel Gibson's Payback on his wedding night, while eating from a gigantic bowl of hot wings. There's just something that appeals to me deep inside about watching despicable wrong-doers get what they have coming to them, in gratuitous fashion.

And yet, this movie seemed to taunt me, to toy with the fascination many seem to have with that kind of movie. Because although I may be tarred and feathered for saying it, I couldn't help but feel that in the context of the story, there's no way these guys deserved what she did to them, heinous though their crime was. And that's not to say they didn't deserve death, which they most assuredly did; just not the biblically epic series of elaborate, sadistic tortures visited upon them by Jennifer. It is almost as if the film-makers are glutting us with the notion of vengeance, testing us to see how much we can handle--"Oh yeah, you want to see some payback. Want these guys to get what they have coming to them? OK, well how about this? Can you handle this? What's wrong, too much for you?"

The feeling of grim satisfaction that usually attends these kinds of films here quickly evaporates, due to the simple fact that Jennifer has become a far worse monster than any of her attackers ever were. This is even more the case than in the original; here, Jennifer has several weeks to plot her revenge, and comes up with a series of horrific set-pieces that make much of the Camille Keaton's revenge in the original seem like Elmo's World.

The influence of the torture porn movement, and Saw in particular, is evident in the manner in which Jennifer exacts her cold and calculated vengeance, depicted in far more elaborate and sadistic fashion than in the Camille Keaton original. Aside from one unforgivably bad CGI shot, this stuff is about as rough to sit through as anything witnessed in the heyday of grindhouse horror.

Granted, much of it is far-fetched in its overly choreographed nature, but that's simply one of the feats of suspension of disbelief expected of the viewer, much like the mysterious ability of this waifish girl to physically overpower her attackers. I could've also done without the endless stream of corny one-liners that pour from Sarah Butler's lips during the film's final act. Her character's descent into lame Schwarzenegger-style quips really took me out of it, and felt out of place in a movie like this.

From a dramatic standpoint, matters are salvaged via the efforts of our gang of thugs, led by Jeff Branson in the role of Johnny. Unlike anyone portrayed in the original, Branson takes us on an emotional journey here; we can see the wheels turning in his head, the processes that lead him to such dark places. It's a very strong performance, as is that of Chad Lindberg as the mentally handicapped Matthew, a highly controversial character from the original that was thankfully not sacrificed at the altar of political correctness this time out. Also impressive is Welsh actor Andrew Howard in a downright chilling turn as the morally bankrupt Sheriff Storch.

The addition of this character, in fact, is one of the ways the films actually ups the ante from the original in terms of head games it seeks to play with the viewer. Even those thoroughly familiar with the original will be pretty much caught off guard by this new character, an addition to the which brings along with it quite a bit of baggage. Unlike his young and dumb cohorts, the Sherrif is an authority figure and family man, making his actions all the more unthinkably reprehensible. As a family man myself, there were certain moments in this film that nearly made me physically ill. A dear friend of mine, who had the privilege of being shown the script before filming even began, let me know all about this fresh, warped twist, yet it still did nothing prepare me for it.

I have a lot of respect for the always on-point Anchor Bay Films for having the gumption to theatrically release the unrated cut of this film--the version I witnessed Wednesday night--despite the fact that an R-rated cut does exist. In the age of PG-13 slasher films, and cop-out unrated DVD releases, that truly is a rarity. Much like the Last House on the Left remake, which I also thought was quite good, though not as good as this, this is a movie that bucks the trend of much of modern horror, which is to either go the route of tongue-in-cheek or give us a stylized, "isn't this cool" version of horror violence. I Spit on Your Grave is like a kick to the gut, and impressively derives its shock value without going the easier route of traditional exploitation cinema.

TRAILER TRASH: Cannibal Edition!

VAULTCAST: Conversations in the Dark... w/Marc Patterson

In keeping with last weekend's kick-off of The Lucky 13 in tandem with Brutal as Hell, this time around I invited Brutal as Hell's managing editor and founder Marc Patterson to join me on Conversations in the Dark. And since our first Lucky 13 installment featured discussions of our favorite horror films in the sub-genre of grindhouse/exploitation, we took this opportunity to really get in-depth and talk about exactly what defines grindhouse and exploitation in the first place.

Join us as we get into which grindhouse and exploitation flicks we love, which ones we don't love, and why, from the seedy days of Last House on the Left and I Spit on Your Grave, through the present-day era of homages like Death Proof and Hostel. And hang tight for the second installment of The Lucky 13 coming up next, with the spotlight on monsters movies and creature features!

Listen to the embedded player below, proceed to the Vaultcast homepage, or download it directly here.

Conversations in the Dark: Marc Patterson

The Vaultcast!

Brutal as Hell: http://www.brutalashell.com
Twitter: http://twitter.com/BAHHorror

The Lucky 13: Week One: Exploitation and Grindhouse

Greetings and welcome to the momentous kick-off of The Lucky 13, a summer-long conspiracy of terror between The Vault of Horror and Brutal as Hell. Over the next 13 weeks, we will be waxing rhapsodic on our very favorite horror movies, broken up into, you guessed it, 13 specially selected subgenres.

To begin things, this week we take a guilty peek at horror's seedy, rank underbelly with a look at exploitation and grindhouse cinema. Whether they're from those unapologetically grimy 42nd Street days, or movies of today that carry on the tradition, these are the flicks that give us a sick little thrill, and make our non-horror-fan friends question our moral upbringing for watching...

B-Sol on The House by the Cemetery

I love Lucio Fulci. Not everyone does. This is an argument that can never be won one way or another. Some love him, some hate him. But there can be no question that Fulci was one of the true kings of the grindhouse--hell, Quentin Tarantino himself counts The Beyond as one of his favorite films. But it's The House by the Cemetery that does it for me. It's my favorite Fulci film, and my favorite grindhouse film of any kind. One of the most underrated of the films of Lucio Fulci, it's part haunted house movie, part gore flick, and all Italian horror.

Maybe I enjoy it because it's one the more conventional, linear and plot-oriented of Fulci's works, since the Italian director is not typically known for the coherency of his narratives. The might make me a "conventional" filmgoer, but I can't help getting a major kick out of seeing Fulci's take on the traditional haunted house movie--I've always seen the movie as his take-off on The Shining. Of course, with healthy doses of shocking gore and gross-out gags added, because, well, he's Lucio Fulci.

It's got the finest of all the scores for Fulci's films, and that's saying quite a bit. The excellent performance of Catriona MacColl conveys so much of the horror. And what a monster we have in Dr. Freudstein (great name!!), the bizarre, ghoulish undead basement-dweller. And despite its more linear nature, the film certainly has its fair share of surreal Fulci-ness, all playing into his ultimate goal of throwing you off your guard in his not-quite-right version of reality. Few brought the grue like Senior Fulci, and for some reason, I care more about the victims this time around than in most of Fulci's other movies, which makes it all the more harrowing to sit through.



Gothic Beauty Magazine's Jessie "Nos" Seitz on Ms. 45

Ms. 45 was first brought to my attention when I was 17 years old. I had just begun to embrace the exploitation genre and had already seen Nekromantik, Cannibal Holocaust, and Last House on the Left. A friend of mine handed me a VHS bootleg of Ms. 45, which turned out to be the coveted unrated version of the film. I couldn’t believe my eyes… this film was so beautiful and so true to my own heart. The revenge exorcised in this story still satisfies me every time I watch it.

Set in NYC during the early '80s, Ms .45 follows the story of a mute seamstress named Thana. After being raped twice in a single day, Thana decides to take revenge on a perverted world. This film’s climax is truly one for the history books. If you haven’t seen this one yet, I highly recommend you seek out the unrated copy, which still floats around on VHS but has not made it to DVD. The DVD version put out by Image Entertainment is a censored version, or such was the case last time I checked. This picture still holds so much relevance that it’s a shame it doesn’t get brought up more in film conversation.



Cinema Suicide's Bryan White on The Exterminator

I feel like when it comes to the grindhouse, you have a real narrow band of about 20 years between 1960 and 1980 to pick a favorite, and narrowing that spectrum down to one movie is tough business because grindhouse is a sort of exploitation umbrella term. Are we talking sexploitation? Car chases? Good ol' boy movies? Kung fu? How do you make your decision? I'll tell you. Pick your favorite genre. Pick your favorite movie in that genre. Easy peasy. For me, there is no contest. The only answer is The Exterminator.

Revenge movies, for reasons that I suspect are strongly unhealthy from a mental health point of view, appeal to me like few others. Why is that? I don't know. If there's one thing I'm not, it's violent, so I don't know where my love affair with revenge movies comes from. In particular, I love vigilante movies, and The Exterminator used to call to me from the video store shelves. A rugged dude in a motorcycle helmet wielding a flamethrower caught my eye like nothing else in the store and, man, was I happy to finally catch up with this nasty piece of cinema.

James Glickenhaus directs Robert "The Paperchase Guy" Ginty in one of his better trashy flicks. Ginty plays John Eastland, a vietnam vet living the blue-collar life, working in a beer cannery. When thugs attack and cripple his war buddy-turned-BFF, he loads up on arms and hits the street for revenge. After a couple of hits on small-time crooks puts him in the paper, he buffs his game and takes on bigger crooks while the NYPD searches high and low for him.

Death Wish made a huge cultural impact in 1974 when it was released, and the Bernie Goetz murder that mirrored the Paul Kersey subway attack in Death Wish only cemented its place in the public consciousness. People feeling powerless in the city were empowered by vigilante movies and it took no time for exploitation filmmakers to latch on to the public sentiment. What came of that was a wave of vigilante flicks, some good, some not so good. At the top of the heap is the criminally unseen picture, The Exterminator, which plays out a lot like Death Wish with strong overtones from Taxi Driver thrown in for good measure. It is a nasty, angry movie full of murder and torture. The overall narrative is fragmented and doesn't exactly fit together at times, as most of Eastland's killings share no common thread and seem like filler. But obvious grindhouse flaws aside, it's among the top vigilante pictures out there, easily edging out William Lustig's nasty street justice picture, Vigilante.



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Head over to Brutal as Hell to see what Marc Patterson and his crew have come up with. And if you're interested in taking part in the future, just give Marc or myself a holler.

Join us next week for The Lucky 13, as we cast our gaze upon Creature Features and Monster Movies...

The Many Faces of David Hess

* Thanks to Marilyn Merlot for this week's "The Many Faces of..." suggestion! Feel free to send me yours...

Hump-Day Harangue: Cannibal Holocaust--What's the Big Deal?

Going along with the Cannibal Holocaust theme today, I bring you a special guest HDH from Vault contributor Marilyn Merlot, who was less than impressed with the notorious film, and clearly has a much stronger constitution than poor little me (except when it comes to turtles)...

So, after so much hype surrounding this movie, and so many people asking me if I’d ever seen it, I really felt like Cannibal Holocaust must be the movie to see. I was also hoping it was going to leave a lasting impression on me. I guess in some ways it did, because I still can't get over what a letdown it was!

The movie is concerned with a documentary team of three young men and a young woman. They are heading for the South American jungle to search for real cannibals. But did anybody else feel this movie was more about torturing and killing animals than humans? Cannibalism is the act or practice of humans eating the flesh of other human beings. Granted, don’t get me wrong, this movie did have its graphic, violent rape and torture scenes (though not nearly enough).

I felt like for the most part these people were running around lost in the rain forest and killing animals. Maybe this is why I was let down. When you have the word CANNIBAL in the title, I’m thinking the movie is going to have more to do with violence against humans than animals. Also--and this has happened to me before--I think I may have watched it way past its prime. Maybe it would have had more of an effect on me if I had watched it when it was first released in the U.S. in 1985, when I was only 10 years old.

Anyway, to end my little rant, for those of you who may have not seen it yet, I will leave you with the one thing that really got to me. I’m all for something gruesome and a little gory, but Holy Ninja Turtle, that scene with the giant river tortoise can almost make anyone vomit. So please watch with caution, and with a bucket or toilet nearby...

Hey Kids, It's the Cannibal Holocaust Live-Tweet!

There are some things in life that you don't really want to do, but you have to do. I've been called to task in the past for never having seen Ruggero Deodato's sleaze opus Cannibal Holocaust--although I had glimpsed some of the nastier bits on YouTube to satisfy my morbid curiosity, I had never seen the film all the way through from beginning to end.

I knew I had to eventually change that, but I wasn't thrilled about it. I can easily devote an entire post to my moral opinion on the movie, but suffice it to say that I had a serious problem with the notion of killing animals on film, for one thing. Yes, I know I like to eat meat; yes, I know this stuff happens all the time without cameras rolling. But that's far different from cruelly murdering living things in order to make a movie. There are reasons things like this are prohibited, and I don't care what the "artistic purpose" was, to be quite frank. I mean, if you're gonna off six exotic jungle beasts, it should at least be for a movie that's better than Cannibal Holocaust.

But I digress. Needless to say, I was not relishing the idea of sitting through 90 minutes of real gore, and gratuitous simulated violence and rape. Not my idea of a pleasant evening. And, in fact, the DVD had been bouncing around on my Netflix queue for almost two years before it finally found its insidious way to my doorstep last week. Then, it sat on my kitchen counter for eight days.

Finally, I could stall no longer. The time had come to face the film I had long dreaded. But I wasn't going on the ride alone. Oh, no--thanks to the wonderful Twitter phenomenon, I was given the opportunity to invite others to join me on an odyssey of growing disgust and revulsion. And so, the Cannibal Holocaust live-tweet was born. For those not familiar with the practice, what I basically did was tweet my live reactions to the movie as I was watching it. Followers could choose to watch along with me, or simply read bemusedly as I streamed my train of thought online.

All in all, it was a pretty fun experience, which is ironic considering the movie I was watching was about as far from fun as it is possible for a movie to be. Lots of people responded, and I even gained some new followers in the process. Now, for those of you who actually had better things to do Monday night, I present the full transcript of the live-tweet--keep it handy for the next time you sit down to enjoy Ruggero Deodato's light-hearted South American romp!

Cannibal Holocaust has been placed in the player. Let the live-tweet begin... #CHlivetweet

#CHlivetweet 00:25 Thomas Jefferson and Santayana have been quoted. Let the phony self-righteousness begin!

#CHlivetweet 1:49 Riz Ortolani's haunting theme....so astoundingly inappropriate, yet so beautiful

#CHlivetweet 3:34 "Today we are on the verge of conquering our galaxy...." ????

#CHlivetweet 6:55 First glimpse of cannibalistic hyjinks..... Yummy.

#CHlivetweet 10:42 I'll say this is already about 20 times more ambitious than House by the Edge of Park, the other Deodato flick I've seen

#CHlivetweet 14:22 These cannibals have lovely bob hairdos. Very Clara Bow...

#CHlivetweet 16:28 Leeches! I've been freaked out by them ever since The African Queen....

#CHlivetweet 18:33 Worm filled skull! I like where this is going.....

#CHlivetweet 19:49 OK the dude just cut the throat of that weird little rodent
thing......Reprehensible. Yet couldn't stop watching. Mouth aghast.

#CHlivetweet 21:44 Aaaaaand mudrape. How pleasant.

#CHlivetweet 23:03 My first "why am I watching this again?" moment.....

#CHlivetweet 28:59 I think this particular cannibal went to the Lee Strasberg school....

#CHlivetweet 31:32 God I haven't seen an Ellesse track suit since my days growing up in Bensonhurst...

#CHlivetweet 34:23 More wanton rapiness and mutilation. I'm guessing there is no musical number imminent.

#CHlivetweet 37:04 This is just SO bizarre. Naked ppl in the river...Ortolani's sweeping theme.... What the holy hell....

#CHlivetweet 38:36 Bodies of the filmmakers discovered. I will say, this quasi-documentary style was pretty ahead of its time.

#CHlivetweet 41:22 "They just invited us to dinner." Lovely.

#CHlivetweet 43:31 This TV newscaster's cardigan is disturbing me more than almost anything I've seen thus far

#CHlivetweet 45:05 And the faux documentary film begins....

#CHlivetweet 48:47 '70s bush sighting

#CHlivetweet 51:32 Brooklyn! Wow, didn't expect this. Ah, the accents of my homeland....

#CHlivetweet 54:17 Oh no. Turtle.........

#CHlivetweet 55:03 Jesus H. Christ.

#CHlivetweet 55:53 How the hell much did they pay these actors to get them to do this shit? Good god in heaven.

speechless

#CHlivetweet 1:00:00 I have to finish this, right?

#CHlivetweet 1:04:04 Monkey's head chopped off. That leaves only the pig-shooting to get through..... lalalalalala

#CHlivetweet OK, pig shenanigans coming up 1:05:47

#CHlivetweet 1:06:55 The little pig is screaming and quivering. Delightful. These people should've been incarcerated.

#CHlivetweet 1:08:44 Tribal massacre. I can totally understand now how people might've thought this scene was real.

#CHlivetweet 1:10:39 And now, a sex scene. Yeah, cause nothing puts one in the mood like animal slaughter and the immolation of natives.

#CHlivetweet 1:14:10 Ah, heavy-handed moralizing. Look dude, you're making an exploitation movie. Own up to it.

#CHlivetweet 1:16:01 I am angry at this movie.

#CHlivetweet 1:20:52 Again with the rape.

#CHlivetweet 1:22:51 CHICK ON A STICK! CHICK ON A STICK!

#CHlivetweet 1:25:23 Looks like the cannibals are about to get some payback....

#CHlivetweet 1:26:38 O_O

#CHlivetweet 1:20:06 Wow. This is some full-on cannibal nastiness. Feel bad for the girl, though. She wanted no part of it.

#CHlivetweet 1:32:41 Apparently these were real natives?? I wonder what the hell they thought of all this....

#CHlivetweet 1:34:19 "I want this material burned. All of it." Agreed.

#CHlivetweet 1:35:01 Is that the World Trade Center in the final shot? If so... yeesh.

#CHlivetweet Yo Adrian, I DID IT!! .....*whew*

Thanks 2 all who diligently followed my Cannibal Holocaust live-tweet! I made it. OK, who's got some shrimp w/ lobster sauce, I'm hungry!

There you have it. Might have to do something like this again sometime. If you're not yet on board the B-Sol Twitter train, feel free to follow me here.