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

“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!

Is Deceptional Fraud More EVIL Than Psychopathy? “Paranoiac” reviewed! (Scream Factory / Blu-ray)

Get “Paranoiac” on the Collector’s Edition Scream Factory Blu-ray!

The parents of siblings Tony, Simon, and Eleanor Ashby die in a tragic plane crash. Two years later, Tony commits suicide by plunging himself off a cliff into a watery grave with his body never having been recovered from the ebb and flow of crashing waves upon the oceanic rocks. Eleven years later, the long thought dead Tony suddenly and unexpectedly returns to what’s left of his family: an overprotectively cold and matriarchal substitute in Aunt Harriet, a narcissistic and alcoholic brother Simon, and a sister, Eleanor, on the precipice of losing her mind from grief over Tony’s death. Shocked by this return, the surviving Ashby siblings split their concerns regarding Tony’s authenticity. Eleanor believes her brother is alive and has come back to rebuild the happy relationship between them whereas Simon denounces Tony’s validity and works underhandedly to either expose Tony as a fraud or to get rid of the imposter by any means necessary, especially when the conditions of receiving the Ashby family fortune have nearly come to an end and a hefty inheritance awaits his opulent tastes. Tony’s arrival causes complications with the inheritance, opens up old wounds, evokes new romantic sensations, and regresses transgressional guilt toward a fiery conclusion to the Ashby family mystery.

A ravishingly dark, mystery thriller inspired by Scottish author Josephine Tey’s crime novel “Brat Farrar” from 1949, the 1963 “Paranoiac” works from off of Tey’s dysfunctional and deceptional family building blocks and extending it into a gothic framework of demented greed in a brand-new of-shooting avenue of psychological thrillers from Hammer Films, hoping to branch off the traditional horror trunk and piggyback success off of the American released, 1960 Alfred Hitchcock film, “Psycho.” “Paranoiac” is the junior film of Freddie Francis (“The Skull,” “Torture Garden”) and penned by the longtime Hammer writer, who basically wrote all of Hammer’s classics, Jimmy Sangster (“Horror of Dracula,” “The Revenge of Frankenstein”). Anthony Hinds and Basil Keys served as producers.

“Paranoiac’s” ensemble cast is quite brilliant in their respective roles.  Oliver Reed (“Curse of the Werewolf,” “Gladiator”) stands out immensely with a flamboyantly cruel and warped performance as the erratic Simon Ashby constantly under the influence of Brandy, Champagne, or whatever alcoholic beverage he can get his organ-playing hands on.  Reed puts out this hateful energy that can’t be ignored and outlines Simon with defined truth about where the character stands with his own flesh and blood – a callously cold and calculating black sheep.  Simon becomes fascinating in every scene, every scenario, and continues to unravel as a wild card that always leave us wondering what he’s going to do next.  Then there’s sweet and innocent but overly distraught Eleanor from Janette Scott in complete sibling behavioral polarity that sinks Eleanor further and further into madness designed by those close to her.  Scott, who also had a starring role in “The Old Dark House” that was released the same year, came aboard relatively new to Hammer but equates her status against Reed, who Hammer was grooming to be a prominent leading man for more of their productions, by selling Eleanor’s despair and the deep-seeded craving for her other, more sweeter, brother, Tony.  Encompassing the thought dead younger brother is Alexander Davion, another newbie to Hammers’ brand with, in my opinion, a neutral and bland face that doesn’t fit the Bray Studio’s swarthy and distinguished lot of male actors.  Davion’s also doesn’t do terribly much with Tony’s sudden resurrection as he folds himself back into Ashby manor.  While this could be Freddie Francis’s shrouding display of truth upon Tony’s legitimacy, there is literally no life or passion behind Alexander Davion’s eyes as he stares blankly at accusations and even Eleanor’s incestuous flirtations.  Yes, incest becomes a rummaged theme that walks a tightrope between more than just two family members.  “Alone in the Dark’s” Sheila Burrell is the stern protector in Aunt Harriet, “Blood Beast from Outer Space’s” Maurice Denham ruffles Simon’s feathers as the Ashby estate treasurer holding all of his inheritance, “The Maniac’s Liliane Brousse nurses a façade over the well-being of Eleanor and the love interests of Simon, and the cast wraps up with John Bonney as the treasurer’s fraudulent son.

Hammer had by 1963 already established itself as a horror powerhouse with the success of colorfully bold, violently stout, and sexually-saturated innuendo classic monster features, such as with “Horrors of Dracula,” “The Curse of Frankenstein,” and “The Mummy.”  Capitalizing on the coattails of Hitchcock’s “Psycho” and sitting on the adaptational rights for Josephine Tey’s “Brat Farrar,” Hammer decided to pivot into the crime and suspense thriller direction that alluded to the aftereffects of cerebral breaking blended into elements of collusion, creating an endless tense-filled turbine revolving around the whodunit particles and the who’s veneer is covertly smeared by corruption.  In a way other than the similar one word title and an unhinged theme, “Paranoiac” could be mistaken as a Hitchcockian-shot production with the larger than life and depth rich landscapes; the vast wide shots of Isle of Purbeck’s peaks and cliff steeps are engulfed oxymoronically as an idyllically menacing key peninsula landscape centric to Tony’s long thought demise as well as a place of hopelessness as the natural English Channel waves crash relentlessly onto the rocks below.  Francis and Sangster hinge the film success on the colossal subtext of brittle strength, guilt, and a vague but prominent suggestion of incest between sister and brother and brother and aunt that, in all honestly, was a personal surprise to myself that it passed the British Board of Film Certification (BBFC).  Yet, the insinuation did and paved a real pothole plague path for viewers in a good way that the story kept evolving, kept us on our toes, and when it spiraled, it spiraled quickly and sharp in a descent onto those very hopeless rocks below waiting for our emotions to be swept away lost in a mobile, violent current. 

Paranoia runs rampant like an epidemic in this Freddie Francis aptly entitled sullen celluloid “Paranoiac,” the next Hammer film receiving a collector’s edition Blu-ray treatment from Scream Factory, the horror sublabel from Shout Factory! The region A locked encoded Blu-ray features a new 2K scan from the interpositive. By 1963, Hammer was well versed in technicolor, especially for Stateside releases of UK films, but “Paranoic” opts for the black and white picture in another subtle nod to “Psycho.” Under veteran Hammer Film’s cinematographer Arthur Grant, that famous gothic-cladded manor house is aesthetically fetching with in every detail captured by Grant’s 35mm camera as well as the broad wide shots in the bird’s eye view of Isle of Purbeck. Scream Factory releases the film in 1080p, full high definition of the original aspect ratio 2.35:1 with sterling results in extracting details and balancing the contrast without brightening or darkening where not needed or intended. There were no real damage spots to point out nor were any crops or enhancements made to touch up possible problematic or stylistic areas. The release comes with a single audio option in a DTS-HD Master Audio monaural track with slight static in the background. Dialogue is clean and mostly clear with an occasion hiss during more boisterous moments, but the range and depth of a faultless ambience and Elisabeth Lutyens brassy and bass soundtrack comes through symmetrically balanced. English SHD Subtitles are also optional. The special features include a new audio commentary with Film Historian Bruce Hallenbeck, two new interviews with author and critic Kim Newman in Drink of Deception and with film historian Jonathan Rigby in A Toast to Terror – two familiar faces seen in recent Scream Factory’s restorations of Hammer productions, a making-of segment that dives archive interviews with Jimmy Sangster and others going over the genesis of the story and into Hammer’s aspirations at the time, and a theatrical trailer. “Paranoiac” is more than just its creepy, bulbous mask that graces the Mark Maddox gorgeously green illustrated slipcover and snapper case cover art. Rarely does a film evolve from one narrative into another without crisscrossing the stitchwork, becoming overly convoluted beyond repair, yet “Paranoiac” digs in and dilates the already volatile chemistry with integrated and powerful performances from Oliver Reed and Janette Scott that makes this film high on the Hammer watch list.

Get “Paranoiac” on the Collector’s Edition Scream Factory Blu-ray!