Category Archives: Death

Is Your Disturbing Library This EVIL? “Reality Killer” review! (Treasured Films / Blu-ray)

Posted by Steven Lewis on

“Reality Killers” Entering the U.S. Torture Porn Market! Buy it Here!

Serial killer known as “The Sculptor” narrates his obsession and love with documenting the stalking, capturing, torturing, raping, and killing of his victims.  As he watches and video tapes his next target, Mary, from afar, a woman he’s chatted with online extensively about recording home snuff movies, The Sculptor opens up his personal library of snuff movies, labeled and numbered dark web bought tape cassettes exhibiting the videoed brutal deaths of strangers by strangers for their pure sordid joy of taking another life.  An adventurous couple lure a promiscuous young girl on the promise of a threesome, a group of three masked teens take pleasure in the torture of a young woman, a couple enticement a child to their backyard pool, father and son roam the streets for call girl action and a little home invasion, and an underground, all-female rock band’s music video takes male fans to new extremes.

A title and a film unabashed and fully accepting the phrase torture porn, as if it’s a pithy elucidative to be proud of, “Reality Killers” is a shot-on-video, found footage anthology and snuff horror from 2005 helmed by “Witch Story” director and “Body Count” writer Alessandro Capone.  The Italian production contains shorts and a wraparound story that connects them together in an ugly tale of sadism, written by four aspiring, young filmmakers in Pablo Dammicco (“A Deadly Compromise”), Francesco Maria Dominedò (“Dedalus”), Volfango de Biasi (“Help!  My In-Laws Are Vampires”), and a writer simply known as Zedd with Alessandro Capone also contributing with his own screenplay while project managing filmic newcomers as they shoot mostly in Los Angeles using American actors.  Alternatively known under the title of “Project K,” the 2005 film of nihilistic sadism is produced by Eagles Pictures’ Ciro Dammicco and Pablo Dammicco and executively produced by Luca Dammicco and Fabrizio Manzollino.

“Reality Killers” is one of those rare breed films that shares a connection with pictures 70+ years it’s senior with having no after credits.  With no before or after cast credits, acknowledging the cast and their ignoble roles is a challenge to say the least.  If fact, it’s impossible.  The wraparound segment with The Sculptor has some clarifying character elucidation online connected to one of the more well-known Italian extreme violence and horror filmmakers in modern times with Domiziano Cristopharo, director of the surrealistic yet broad-stroked with intense visceral “Confessions of a Necrophile Girl” and “House of Flesh Mannequins,” in a role credited as The Monk.  However, there seems to be some melding overlap between The Monk and the large, oiled-up, and masked concentrated sadist on screen in the wraparound story, played by Valter D’Errico, in a disturbing show of vain and perverse expression.  Alongside D’Errico, in a handful of scenes of being stalked around a metropolitan city and in a naked position of vulnerability on D’Errico’s slab of slaughter, is Cristina Puccinelli (“Phantasmagoria”) playing as the aspiring snuffer enthusiast and killer as well as the online conversationalist Mary who turns prey to her own betrayal going against and essentially humiliating a masterclass maniac like the oily and masked maniac.  After that and within the shorts, none of the other actors are repeated or credited for their work that waver between being exaggeratedly overacted and staged to the point of disingenuous means and the thought of the inflicted violence that spur a subtle creepiness.

The trouble with “Reality Killers” is the inherent topsy-turvy post-production that revamped the anthological storyline with a linear outer story with an anthological storyline connected with a threadbare connected wraparound.  Initially story structured with a sheriff unearthing a library of snuff films and going through selected VHS examples of the killer’s cache with a journalist to explicate the rare breed of butcher.  The videos were also lengthier, more narratively in depth of character and plotline, and have digestible connective tissue with the main shell story that’s redesigned for a body round and glistening, conventionally narcissistic, masked chatterbox, “The Sculptor,” who’s just a physical and commanding orb of a presence in a dark and grimy setting, spouting a deluge of devilish details about his devotion to snuff filmmaking and his own contribution to the perversion.  The told tales vary in degree of both explicit violence as well as story structure as some become more glimpses than a perusal of a three act analog anecdotes to which, in all fairness, found footage, especially pulled from VHS, are only short-lived windows into the lives of others, literally short-lived.  The vignettes are mostly hyper concentrated on the gore, leaving little room for a yard to build, lengthen, and become deeper to invest audiences when the decisive moment comes to take a life with sociopathic heartlessness.  However, “Reality Killers” pales in comparison to the likes of others, such as Fred Vogel’s “August Underground” features that really hammer down on violence and gore with sickening special effects and concentrated shock.  Capone’s entry into the niche subgenre feels reversed at times, never really going for gold in the gutting of precious human life, but the film still evokes a visceral response to the extreme content. 

“Reality Killers” arrives into the U.S. market hailing from the UK label Treasured Films, squeezing itself into the ever tightening commerce of boutique distributors.  Treasured Films’ debut special edition Blu-ray is MPEG-2 AVC encoded, 1080p high-definition resolution, BD50 is presented in a 1.33:1 aspect ratio and either scanned through a VHS record or implements a VHS or commercial handheld camera filer to achieve that passé effect that’s slowly making an aesthetic comeback.  There’s not a ton of other stylistic options used in the vignettes to instill a realism effect and result while the wraparound ups the contrast and grades darkly into its grim substance, leaving attenuated tones of yellows, greens, and reds to be coloring that seep through the oily voids.  The featured presentation carries more of the filtered aspects but in the special features’ Original Production Scenes, the alternate telling of “Reality Killers” embarks on a cleaner, conventional approach in the different outer story with the vignettes either slightly less boxed in by a matte or are outright more defined.  The audio track is an English DTS-HD stereo.  Though an Italian production, the vignette actors are primarily American and the wraparound story is voiced over.  Dialogue coincides with an onboard camera mic that picks up every little detail but also captures varying degrees of volume.  Discerning clarity is, must I say, pretty excellent for the differing sub-productions without an overbearing lopsidedness that usually stems with some who don’t have the technical knowhow to engineer audio precision; each episode achieves what’s strived for without interference, or even with the physical release, compression issues.  English subtitles are available.  Special features include a new interview with director-producer Alessandro Capone From Witch Lore to Snuff Gore in Italian only with English subtitles, a new interview with coproducer Gabriele Pacitto A Killing Reality in Italian only with English subtitles, a new English language essay by Giacomo Calzoni Cutting Deep :  Mapping the Origin of Torture Porn which takes a look at films like “Saw” and “Hostel” that generated the coining of descriptor torture porn and how it influenced horror pop culture, a teaser trailer, storyboards, and an image gallery.  The Original Production Scenes I’ve mentioned previously tells a completely different story and, in my opinion, is more interesting with longer story sequences, more nudity and gore, and the first vignette is scored with music from Nine Inch Nails, specifically “Dead Souls” from The Crow soundtrack, which adds another element to the coarse-riddled subject matter.  Treasured Films standard special edition set comes in a rigid slip box with a hazed face of the masked Sculptor.  The clear Amaray case houses new Ilan Sheady illustrative, compilation cover art in all its explicit detail with the same art pressed onto the disc.  Inserted is a 31-page color booklet with film stills, Blu-ray acknowledgments, and a David Flint essay “The Forbidden Films of the 21st Century” that discusses the films banned in Britian, which includes “Reality Killers’ rejected by the BBFC.  The all-region release has a runtime of 75-minuts and is, obviously, not rated.

Last Rites: Torture porn snuff films are, for a lack of a better world, repetitive in their controversial narrative and “Reality Killers” is no exception but it’s the style choices that and effects that entertain us or makes the sweat run down our brow. Alessandro Capone’s entry to torture porn has a visceral bite but isn’t the repulsive best-of-the-worst. Yet, Treasured Films’ entry into U.S. market is remarkably unforgettable.

“Reality Killers” Entering the U.S. Torture Porn Market! Buy it Here!

Fulci Turns Back Time to Bring EVIL Back from the Dead! “The House of Clocks” reviewed! (Cauldron Films / Blu-ray)

Posted by Steven Lewis on

“The House of Clocks” Delivers Time as an Illusion. Blu-ray now available!

An isolated Italian villa becomes the looting target for three thieves looking for an easy score.  Villa residents, an elderly couple, are tricked into letting them into their estate adorned with elegant clocks of all shapes and sizes but as the plane unfolds it goes awry when the imposing grounds man arrives and both homeowners are killed.  Yet, the villa owners were no saints and no ordinary couple as soon as the husband’s heart stops, the clocks begin to move counterclockwise and that’s when the peaceful villa turns into a strange nightmare where time goes in reverse and those short and long dead come back to life with wounds miraculously healed as if it never happened.  As time continues to reverse, the thieves find themselves trapped inside the house and on estate grounds being hunted down by the merciless grounds man, but the skeletons in the elderly couple’s closet will soon resurrect and be thirsty for vengeance.

“The House of Clocks” is the Lucio Fulci made-for-TV movie that never saw the light of television programing.  Deemed too gory and violent for public broadcast, Fulci’s 1989 Italian film, to which he created the concept for and the screenplay treated by the duo team of Gianfranco Clerici  of “Cannibal Holocaust” and Daniele Stroppa of “Delirium,” was shelved for many years until it’s eventual home video release because, as you can tell just from the high-powered Italian horror names attached to the project, the finished film would certainly frighten those general audiences with easy turn-of-the-knob and bunny ear-antenna access.  Also known natively as “La casa nel Tempo,” was a part of a four-film horror special surrounding a theme of the houses of doom and was a production of Dania Film and Reteitalia production companies with “You’ll Die at Midnight” and “Delirium” producers Massimo Manasse and Marco Grillo Spina serving as executive producers.

The film initially opens with Maria, the nosy for her own good housemaid, discovering two rotting corpses ostentatiously displayed in the villa’s chapel.  Why Maria (Carla Cassola, “Demonia” and “The Sect”) decides to snoop around is not explained but the act does start a chain events, leading up to elder Villa owners in Sara Corsini and her clock obsessed husband Vittorio, played by the role age appropriate Bettine Milne (“The King’s Whore”) and Paolo Paoloni (“Cannibal Holocaust”) in a lot more makeup and prosthetics to make him appear as an older man.  As mysterious senior citizens go, Milne and Paoloni are the malevolently cryptic under a façade of geniality, possessing and maintaining the corpses of their niece and nephew they’ve murdered in order to keep their wealth.  The backstory between the two pairs has vague clarity but there’s enough to keep the pistons pumping toward the crux of why the uncanny time about-face.  While, again, no sense of explanation on why time reverses, we’re under the assumption Paolo is essentially Father Time, a personification of the time concept represented as an old, bearded man with an hour glass and a scythe to represent a span from life to death.  When thieves Paul (Peter Hintz, “Zone Troopers”), Tony (Keith Van Hoven, “Black Demons”), and Sandra (Karina Huff, “Voices from Beyond”) put an end to the Corsinis, that is when time stops and reverses itself, affecting the once dead to return back to life, and creating a nightmare scenario for now three trapped thieves under the chase of not only the Corsinis but those also killed by the Corsinis as their deteriorating bodies rejuvenate into active flesh and bone as well as flesh and blood.  “The Beyond” and “Zombie’s” Al Cliver rounds out the principal cast and the overall cast with his menacingly evil, Corsini’s jack-of-all-trades grounds man with a scarred over eye and a double barrel shotgun to hunt down the thieves.

“The House of Clock’s” is quite an interesting concept without a durably designed reason for all the madnesses.  At its core, three thieves home invade an older couple for their valuable objects and accidently kill them in the process when the standoff goes bad.  With that oversimplified version of events, a hellish cog in the pocket watch gearbox links the old man’s ticker with the tons of tickers that adorn his villa home, causing a chain reaction of turn back the clock proportions to which audiences never receive a proper understanding and while this may bother a sample size few, most will find the story too weird, gory, and trepidatious tense to care in what becomes a fair-game free-for-all against all characters who don’t have an ounce of virtue.  The lot of thieves, schemers, and murders are all trapped inside time’s ill-reverse affect without a sign of slowing down and while it might seem advantageous at first for some, as time continues to revert, the worse the situation becomes as old adversaries emerge from their graves and tombs.  Fulci’s visualized gore also emerges through with the fantastic effects by Guiseppe Ferranti, including a high right through the crotch impalement.  Ferranti would also be behind the effects for two other the house of doom television movies.

“The House of Clocks” may not have been safe for television but for a new Cauldron Films Blu-ray, the Lucio Fulci film fits right in and comes in the nick of time!  Restored from a 2K scan of the 35mm film negative, the AVC encoded, 1080p high-definition, BD50 offers a visually invigorated, audibly astounding, and special features saturated release that presents Fulci’s lesser known and once previously shelved work!  Presented in a European widescreen 1.66:1, color saturation is beyond reproach with a beautifully natural grading that pops textures and objects right off the screen, adding density and tangibility to each.  Disc capacity affords the codec compression with no artefact issues in the reproducing of the encoded image that nearly replicates an ideal exhibition and appearance of a made-for-TV movie, especially in the macabre moment where extra slimy ooziness of the decaying corpses or the perforation of the servant’s crotch area is as clear as clear can get without misinterpretation.  Skin tones aren’t flared and are naturally set within a healthy, though smoother, grain layer.  The release comes with two audio mixes – a PCM English 2.0 mono and a PCM Italian 2.0 mono.  Both tracks are produced from ADR and have been scrubbed with no issues of hissing or crackling.  There’s a brilliant touch of echoing within the estate to create reverberations and a range, open quality to the exterior dialogue.  Vince Tempera’s synth piano is a ticking measure of modified vocals and integrated milieu elements with a organ tone like quality that’s ghoulishly soft.  English subtitles are optional on both mixes.  Special features include a handful of new interviews from behind-the-camera with cinematographer Nino Celeste Lighting the House of Time, composer Vince Tempera Time and Music, first assistant director Michele De Angelis Working with a Master, FX artist Elio Terribili Time with Fulci, as well as unmentioned archival interviews with actors Paolo Paoloni, Al Cliver, and Carla Cassola.  There’s a parallel audio commentary with film historians and critics Eugenio Ercolani, Nathaniel Thompson, and Troy Howarth who regularly step in to commentate on Italian horror.  Graphic artist Matthew Therrien designs an illustrative composition artwork, pulling inspiration from the film’s most iconic and chaotic moments, while Eric Lee designs the titular logo sitting pretty dead center.  The reverse side of the cover art displays a rotting hand still from the movie.  The 19th title has a clear Amaray that houses a cropped version of the front cover image pressed onto the disc, which is region free, uncut, and has an 83-minute runtime.

Last Rites: Most people wish they could turn back time. For Lucio Fulci and his penchant for beyond death, going counterclockwise in “The House of Clocks” is more frightening and deadly as time can’t be owned and controlled. Simply put, there’s just no stopping the sands of time, forwards or backwards, for the past will catch up to you and the future is mercilessly uncertain.

“The House of Clocks” Delivers Time as an Illusion. Blu-ray now available!

EVIL Chews Through Its Own Loved Ones as “The Vourdalak” reviewed! (Oscilloscope Laboratories / Blu-ray)

Posted by Steven Lewis on

“The Vourdalak” Available Now at Amazon.com!

The special emissary of the King of France is ambushed by Turks in an isolated Slovic countryside.  With his carriage and clothes stolen and his driver-servant dead, Monseigneur Marquis Jacques Antoine Saturnin d’Urfé has nothing more than the clothes on his back.  He finds himself in the home of Gorcha, an enemy of the Turks, who resides with his three adult children, a daughter in law, and a grandson, but Gorcha was not presently there to greet his hapless visitor until his returns later that day from fighting the Turkish raiders.  Yet, aside from the oldest son Jegor, the family’s superstitious beliefs lead them to doubt Gorcha returning home human and instead has returned as vourdalak, or a blood hungry vampiric creature who feeds on his own loving family to turn them all into the same unnatural ilk.  From an outsider’s point of view, what Marquis d’Urfé witnesses initially is a strange peasant family’s irritational fear turn into a harrowing horror as one-by-one the family members reach an unfortunate end after the return of Gorcha.

Based off the gothic novella “La Famille du Vourdalak. Fragment inedit des Memoires d’un inconnu” from Russian author Aleksey Konstantinovic Tolstoy, a story that plays on the etymology of the Slavic folklore word Wurdulac, or a vampire-like creature, that exacts a similar transpiring fate as described in the above plotline of Adrien Beau’s “The Vourdalak.”   The writer-director fleshes out the 1839 Tolstoy story, one that’s predates Bram Stoker’s “Dracula” by nearly 60 years, for his own period set rendition created for modern times almost two centuries later in 2023 as his debut feature-length film.  The French film is cowritten alongside Hadrien Bouvier who doesn’t depict the vampiric creature as a nobleman, or even a man of wealth, but rather as a likely lowly serf of the countryside under a noble or lord.  Yet, the script, very much like Tolstoy’s novella, is contained within the family and their home rather than expanding across continents and seas, as in Stoker’s “Dracula.”  “The Vourdalak” is produced by “Alone in Berlin’s” Marco and Lola Pacchnioni and Judith Lou Lévy (“Zombie Child”) under the production banners of Les Films du Ball, Master Movies and, in association with, Cinemage 17 and Amazon. 

A period piece with an intimate cast brings closer together the targeted era of late 18th century to early 19th century costuming, articles, and, to extent, performances that sell the monarchial times of French aristocracy and Slavic provincials living humbly on the fringes of an everlasting Russo-Turkish war that spanned decades.  Leading the charge is the only French aristocrat portrayed character in the story played by Kacey Mottet Klein (“The Suicide Shop”).  Dressed in traditional Empiric style high collar shirt, petty coat, and a white wig and garishly garnished with white pale-looking makeup with mouche, an adhesive mole, to reflect their wealth and status, Klein’s prim-and-proper, yet prudish and prissy, Marquis Jacques Antoine Saturnin d’Urfé is finely out of his element with a satisfiable character arc that has the Monseigneur go from a squeamish snob to finding compassion, sympathy, and courage amongst darkness aimed to swallow a family whole as d’Urfé’s high society and fantastical life clashes with the real world with war, necessity, death, natural beauty, unconventionalities, and consideration through another type of fantasy lens, a troubling, insidious darkness that plagues and feeds on the blood from within a domestic design that’s ruthless as it is unfathomable.  Jegor (Grégoire Colin, “Bastards”) is the loyal eldest son, Piotr (Vassili Schneider, “The Demons”) is the sexual orient ambiguous second son with external emotions unlike his other brother, Sdenka (Ariane Labed, “The Brutalist”) is the free-spirited but melancholic beauty, Anja (Claire Duburcq, “She is Conann”) as Jegor’s more than practical and realistic wife and young Vlad (Gabriel Pavie) is Jegor and Anje’s preadolescent boy.  The aforenoted characters are all embodied by a physical, living person to play the role but Gorcha is a horse of another color.  In fact, Gorcha’s not a living thing at all and is actually a puppet personified by two puppeteers and voiced by director Adrien Beau.  The puppet has an emaciated appearance, resembling closely to those used in “Return of the Living Dead, and with the power of green screen, the animating arms and bodies are overlayed out and Gorcha lives and breathes with an animatism spirit that’s creepy as all Hell with an underscoring tow of vampirism. 

In its essence, “The Vourdalak” embraces the simplicity with a less-is-more atmosphere, a self-assured reliance in the palpable and practical, and a confidence in its cast to extract the drama and horror of a longstanding folklore and deliver its poignant potency with eccentric diversity and steady anxiety.  Beau drenches dread into every crevice that sticks like humidity to its subdued black comedy attire.  Yes, “The Vourdalak,” though grim and dark, has a sliver of comedy course through its bloodlet and lapped up veins from the main character’s perspective who, at first, is quite out of his comfortable, aristocracy element being wiggled into a lower-class family’s unusual dysfunctionality.  There’s also the puppet aspect integrated into living, breathing actors as if one of their own and that certainly as a basic layer of absurd surrealism, the French know a thing or two about liberal arts absurdism.  Beau’s shooting style resembles a blend between the fixed camera and low-key lit silent films, also implementing throwback spyglass shots that were widely used in the early cinematic period, and the Euro-horror movement of the 1960s to early 1980s with an ominous romanticism, a dark and creepy-fog environment, and tinged to cooler shades of soft blues and greens all the while lightly touching upon themes of sexuality, homosexuality, and family structures that often collide with one another to stir the pot and overshadows the imminent danger in front of them. 

“The Vourdalak” is unpredictably grotesque in the most amusingly macabre way and is now on a region free Blu-ray release from our friends at Oscilloscope Laboratories.  AVC encoded onto the BD50, the high definition, 1080p resolution, might throw audiences and purveyors of physical media for a loop when the picture isn’t as fine as expected for a modern released picture.  That’s because Adrien Beau shot “The Dourdalak” in Super 16mm that enlivens a grainy and soft toned picture that can appear slightly blurry, resembling the ilk of European horror from the 1960s-1980s  Presented in an anamorphic widescreen 2.35:1 aspect ratio, Beau is very committed the coldness of bleak grays, blues, reds and the variant fused shades of purple, pink, and teals that sparingly envelope the entire frame with a lens tint in surreal moments, such as fever dreams or emulated night shots.  Though unfocused at times, plenty of distinction can still be rendered, such as the very stooge features and qualities of the Gorcha puppet.  The French DTS-HD Master Audio stereo track is an audio sensory mini-triumph.  In its modest sound design, minor qualitative sounds instill creepy atmospherics, especially the sound prominence of a raw chewing theme associated with the vourdalak creature’s folklore.  Adrien Beau also better animates and personifies his Gorcha puppet with a wheezy and struggling voice over for who is supposed to be a very elderly father-grandfather in an undernourished and skeletal appearance with sunken, bulging eyes and a near fully exposed teeth. The special features include two of Adrien Beau’s short films “Les Condiments Irreguliers” and “La Petite Sirene” as well as a behind-the-scenes featurette that’s more of the raw footage of animating and acting the Gorcha puppet without the visual effects removing the puppeteers. The Oscilloscope Laboratories Blu-ray comes in a clear Amaray case with soft, airbrushed quality composition artwork of a calm Marquis Jacques Antoine Saturnin d’Urfé being feasted upon around his neck by the vourdalak. The reverse side contains a still image of a medium-far shot of one of the more powerful images in the film of a graveyard d’Urfé passes through as if it was a revolving doorway in and out of death. A simple yellow title and label name are splayed across the disc, consistent and normal per the company’s design, and the film is not rated with a runtime of 90 minutes.

Last Rites: Rarely do I give a five-star review for a film but Adrien Beau’s “The Vourdalak” is a fascinating and frightening visualization of Aleksey Konstantinovic Tolstoy story that trades visceral images for palpable ones in a folkloric entrancement of unnatural beings disrupting the natural world, a concept worth chewing on the nape of the neck for.

“The Vourdalak” Available Now at Amazon.com!

Who is This EVIL Named “Dariuss” reviewed! (SRS Cinema / DVD – Extreme and Unrated)

Posted by Steven Lewis on

Find Out Who “Dariuss” Is With this SRS Release!

An experimental vision quest of loss, grief, and death takes refuge in a small English town, inside an old and quaint English house.  A mother grieves for the loss of her child, sobbing uncontrollably and mindlessly wanders with distant stares as the heart pains for her child.  The grandmother, doing what she can, comforts her daughter’s newfangled distraught nature while the husband, grieving in his own isolated way, stays out late at night to drink himself into a stupor.  When madness lurks about their home and intrudes upon their privacy, a vile and heinous loss of life bathes a depraved lunatic in their fluids.  Neither mother, father, nor grandmother is safe from terrific travesty in corporeal form.  A sickness has arrived to cure the inconsolable, eradicating them slowly of the pain in the most painful of ways imaginable, and doing it all with a bloodstained maniacal grin stretching from ear-to-ear.

A hellish loop of defeating pessimism, “Dariuss” fringes the black void areas around reality and escapism that evoke the uncomfortable nature of people and the unpredictable tides that turn for the worst when already at rock bottom.  “Dariuss’s” brackish, brainsick narrative is the brainchild of Guerrilla Metropolitana, an Italian artist crafting his underground and dark cinemaverse of misanthropic mayhem and esoteric eroticism.  The writer-director Metropolitana lives and creates out of London, UK and “Dariuss” is his 2023, debut feature-length film behind an oeuvre of distressing shorts of human imperfection and immortality encroached by a constant line of madness.  Metropolitana not only self-funds and produces his film, where he achieves total control to push back against not only major studio norms but also conventional independent stratagem, but provides the avant-garde cinematography, unorthodox editing, an experimental score and sound design, and even costars the trench coat covered naked body of the antagonistic killer. 

One element to not forget to mention before going through the cast is that “Dariuss” is completely without dialogue.  Metropolitana’s sound design manipulates and repeats many sound clips, such as the plops of water droplets or the high-pitch lip trilling, to fashion an uncomfortable audio sensation sporadically strung throughout that parallel’s the coupled low tumbling score and baby laughter, the later more so when referring to child loss or the abhorrent reincarnation of the child.  Ila Argento holds the majority screen time, especially since the pregnant woman credited as Sarah Isabèl is also Argento as well in some sort of meta crafting or illusion, and she plays the grieving, depressed wife wailing, screaming, and just distantly starring in vast quantities and in a daze of mirrored or painted inversions about the English home.  “Dariuss” is more than just extreme performance art as it embodies interval wretchedness associated with trauma, or in this case more specifically, loss through a reverse world looking glass.  As the wife is tended to by the grandmother, played with apneic conditions and posturing concern is Marie Antoinette de Robespierre, Archibald Kane’s the husband role is scantily around for a father who just lost a child and when the father is in frame, he’s idling in his car drinking, or rather gulping, from a bottle.  Both the grandmother and father roles are a part of Metropolitana’s message of a shattered family structure of insincerity and disconnect. Feeding on that dysfunction is the childlike maniac, played by Metropolitana himself, with rapacious amusement off the back of the household’s suffering.  Almost as if the maniac is a reincarnation of the lost child, perceived by play like antics in a nearly naked and hairless state and audible by the babylike, post-introduced laughter, returning home to exact horrific horseplay on his family involving rape and murder and cannibalism alongside the frolicking and breast milk chugging.  

Let’s preface with an important fact that “Dariuss” will not be everybody’s cup of tea; in fact, Metropolitana’s film is more like bitter black coffee with a pungent, sour smell as a narrative series of images, like a splayed, taped together string of polaroids, giving godawful glimpses of grief and gore.  Sounds and images repeat that beg for madness to emerge out of the nouvelle vague filming style, experimenting with various inverted images, mirrored and angled shots, different types of aged filters and strange lighting, various camera speeds, and oddly framed shots will subject audiences to pricklier sensory sensations than the depicted violence and gore, which is graphically ghastly and extreme with necrophilia and cannibalism.  Story structure also veers into non-linear territory but the gist of the acts is present, if not loose and equivocal for open interpretation and choice cinema characteristics that stray from normal convention, to mold a beginning, middle, and end in only a way Metropolitana can construct by contrasting melancholic grief with stagnating indifference, with a maniacal pleasure of a sandbox of sinew, and, in way, comical by way of the insanity with disturbing imagery mixed with playful mischievousness. 

Just who is Dariuss?  That’s the obstruse person perhaps at the centermost of this ghastly, grisly story that’s now on DVD from SRS Cinema as a part of their Extreme and Uncut label.  The DVD comes MPEG2 encoded, 480p standard definition, 5-gigabyte DVDR that showcases a wide-range of filters, inversions, lighting designs, grading, and you name it, “Dariuss” likely did it of cinematography techniques that stay in the rough patches of eccentricity rather than being comfortable in the fairways.  Picture quality fluctuates and varies depending on the aesthetic chaos methods being deployed, leaving behind not the sharpest looking picture with noticeable pixelation on anything above a 32″ television but not enough of an eyesore to be an imperceptibly deterrent.  Depth has fair spatial qualities but range and saturation is pretty limited to an anemic neutral palette to only when the monochrome or higher contrasts are not in play. The LPCM 2.0 stereo contains no organic matter, meaning that none of the sound is captured within the scenes, as Metropolitana modulates, manipulates, and modifies singular notes and tones for creepy and ear-splicing effect. This also pertains to the soundtrack being completely devoid of dialogue to give the auteur complete authority of how his film she be heard and every bit of that sound design is front loaded and high-powered but to an intended unrefined audio art. English captioning for the deaf and hard of hearing is available. Special features encoded are a behind-the-scenes still gallery and SRS trailers while the standard Amaray comes with an SRS illustration of the film’s original one-sheet, transposed to the disc pressing. There are no inserts included nor slipcover. SRS Cinema’s release is region free and has a runtime of 62, ideal, or even a tad bit too long, for this type of experimentation.

Last Rites: Not to be confused as a nail-biting, popcorn thriller, “Dariuss” will only speak to a select few able to bend the mind to impressionistic, dark eroticism and savagery, both qualities of which Guerrilla Metropolitana has and depicts in droves.

Find Out Who “Dariuss” Is With this SRS Release!

EVIL Doesn’t Take Rejection Well. “Village of Doom” reviewed! (Unearthed Films / Collector’s Edition Blu-ray)

Posted by Steven Lewis on

“Village of Doom” now on Unearthed Film’s Collector’s Edition Blu-ray!

Tsugio Inumaru is considered the smartest young man in his village.  Illness took the life of his parents, and he raised by his grandmother and lives off her land’s income, looking after him and dreading the day Tsugio becomes drafted as a soldier in war service, which bestows great honor from the villagers.  While husbands are away serving their country, bored and lonely housewives and bachelorettes desire the carnal company of the men remaining and with Tsugio’s youth and his own sexual yearnings bubbling to the surface, he’s prime Kobe beef for the hungry village women.  When Tsugio’s health examination reveals a tuberculosis diagnosis, he’s acutely shunned by the villagers, drying up his sexual escapades, as well as potential betrotheds.  Rejection by his village, and even his country, sends the young man into plotting a massive killing spree, targeting all of those who’ve forsaken or scorned him to a life not worth living. 

In the Tsuyama outskirt village of Kamo of 1938, 21-year-old Mutsuo Toi cut the village’s electricity, strapped flashlights to the side of his head, and took a mini arsenal that included a Browning shotgun, a katana, and an axe to 30 villagers, including his grandmother, in an act to revenge killing for being rejected socially and sexually because of his tuberculosis diagnosis.  What is known as the Tsuyama Massacre, Mutsuo Toi’s cold and merciless act of carnage was the basis for Noboru Tanaka’s “Village of Doom.”  The pinkupsloitation director of “Rape and Death of a Housewife” and “Angel Guts:  Nami” helms the Japanese, semi-biographical tale, penned by Takuya Nishioka (“Tattoo,” “Female Teacher:  Chain and Bondage”), that follows closely the bullet point events of Mustuo Toi but with different named characters and a strong pink eiga touch.  “Village of Doom” is one of Kazuyoshi Okuyama’s (“R100,” “Self-Bondage:  All Tied Up with My Own Rope”) first produced ventures and is a production of the Fuji Eiga and Shochiku Eizo Companies. 

While Mutsuo Toi is not directly portrayed, his downward spiraling steps are indirectly followed by Tsugio Inumaru, played by the late Nikkatsu actor Masato Furuoya.  Furuoya’s relationship with director Noboru Tanaka is well established within their director-actor collaborating context with Furuoya having roles in Tanaka’s previous credits of “Rape and Death of a Housewife” and “Angel Guts:  Nami.”  There’s a blanket of comfortability within Furuoya who must treat his character as one-part pink paramour and one-part biographical massacrer, seducing with a tantamount tease of fantasy and authenticity.  Furuoya’s beleaguered performance is a jagged mountainous range of emotions from confidence and compassion to hormonal desires, to the stressed misgivings from cold shoulders and bad fortune mishandled by Tsugio’s own sense of worth to his himself and the village that has turned its back on him.  In keeping with the simulated practice of Yobai, the night crawling sexual escapades amongst young men and women, typically unmarried men and women, Tanaka portions heavily toward Tsugio’s internal grievances with the suddenly thrusted into the primitive and stimulated needs of a young man’s novice sex drive awaken with a morsel nude photograph.  Furuoya’s costars are the collective antagonist from the perspective of Tsugio with their geniality turned hostility of the TB diagnosis.  Sexualized warmth and freedom run rampant, peppered in between with subdued duty to village and country, that cradles an shy Tsugio’s into his manhood but when his manhood is threatened and the village neglects and rejects his contributions, Tsugio’s acute ostracization from within the only community circle he’s ever known disfigures his rationality into revenge.  The cast is surprisingly pink vet lite with the actors coming from other Japanese oriented popular subgenres like samurai films, erotic but tasteful comedies and romance, and horror with Misako Tanaka, Isao Natsuyagi (“Female Prisoner #701: Scorpion,” Kumiko Ôba (“Hausu”), Shino Ikenami (“Evil Dead Trap 2”), Midori Satsuki, Yashiro Arai, Renji Ishibashi, and Izumi Hara (“Island of the Evil Spirits”).

“Village of the Doom” is a two-toned down spiral to build up only to crash down the hopes of an impressionable young person.  Similarly seen in later works like Gus Van Sant’s “Elephant” where the visually intense, raw, and viscerally slicing culmination of enough-is-enough points back to the series of occurrences that significantly mile mark every step lead to the slaughter.  Set inside a valley surrounded by green mountains, the idyllic and rural riverside village impresses more backdrop tranquility than doom with slower pace and dutiful lifestyles but like most cutoff societies, the slow, insidious corruption of morality courses with infectious infidelity under the guise of Yobai, upends rightful justice and trades in for lynch mobs, and wanes promises for easy streets and exploitation run out dates that run its course for one but not the other.  All these aspects have relevant translatability to today’s cliques and inner circles that oust the unusual to where a sense of belonging feels hopelessly frustrating.  The isolation is so engrained that it highlights, in a very matter-of-fact way but does speak to it quite a bit, is the incestuous relationships between related villagers with the instances of Tsugio and cousin Kazuko’s flirtatious meetups and talk of marriage as well as Tsugio accidental arousal around his cousin’s aunt.  This adds to the tension and the corruption of that old idiom of don’t shit where you eat and the evident sourness spoils relationship ties when family is important to lessen the blows of life’s subsidiary problems.  For Tsugio, who is already dealt a bad hand with both parents deceased and his illness, the whole village rots what’s left of his innocence and ambitions and, in turn, aims to exterminate those who’ve foiled his purity.

A wicked, notorious true crime story now for the rest of the world to visual in “Village of Doom” on Blu-ray, courtesy of Unearthed Films on their Unearthed Classics sublabel.  The new Collector’s Edition Blu-ray is format encoded onto an AVC encoded, 1080p high-definition, BD50.  The picture is tempered with the muted colors, or rather the scaled grays, of an archaic Japanese village coupled by the browns and straw hued housing set amongst in and surrounded by a sea of green foliaged valley, and while objects are delineated nicely without any saturation bleeding or compression issues, the colors don’t necessary pop.  What does pop are the textures of the same articles mentioned above.  The groves of thatched wooden abodes are remarkable deep, the greens, though seamless, are nicely touched upon in the foreground, and skin consistencies vary person-be-person within idiosyncratic personal brackets with dynamic sweatiness and emotion-delivery contouring to accentuate.  The Japanese LPCM 1.0 mono has no problem discerning elements.  Though all funneling through a single channel, the dialogue and ambience works together thanks to the clean, more immersive ADR.  Mashanori Sasaji’s tests the soundscapes of traditional Japanese drum rhythms of Oo-daiko with then modernized synthesized notes to create a forebodingly, entrancing composition.  With any post-production voiceover work, dialogue is very robust, and the synchronized English subtitles offer an error-free and organic translation.  The original audio file is compressed cleanly with no issues with crackling, hissing, or any other damage for noting. Unearthed Film’s 17th spined Classics title supplements with an audio commentary by Asian film experts Arne Venema and Mike Leeder, a look at the Tsuyama Massacre in Dark Asia with Megan: Case #57 Japan’s Darkest Night, a promotional gallery, and the theatrical trailer. The Amary Blu-ray case is housed in a cardboard O-slipcover featuring Mutsuo’s iconic night-crawlin’ getup on Masato Furuoya’s Tsugio in colorless black-and-white. The case has the same image used for the cover with no reversible sleeve and the inside does not contain any tangible inserts or materials. The disc is pressed with not the same image but the same head flashlight Tsugio, this time looking right at you in unison with his shotgun barrel. The not rated feature has a runtime of 106 minutes and is region A locked.

Last Rites: “Village of Doom” depicts the same sad story that strikes the hearts of today’s mass shootings, spurred by the dispel from those in proximity, intimate, and friendly. “Village of Doom” is a true classic of casted out carnage relit by Unearthed Films to retell the notorious narrative of Japan’s deadliest mass killing ever.

“Village of Doom” now on Unearthed Film’s Collector’s Edition Blu-ray!