Euronymous, an Oslo teenager hellbent on launching true Norwegian Black Metal, shapes his band Mayhem with edgy publicity stunts that invokes the calling of Satan and being an anarchist against the moral norm to make his brand renowned around the underground music world in the late 1980s. As his fame flourishes with creating ungodly music, owning and running a music store, and helming his own record label, Euronymous continues his crusade agasint the establishment, but the lines blur when his messages of hellfire become unforeseen reality. Suicide, arson, violence, and coldblooded murder push Euronymous to the limits of his own soapbox inactions, leaving him open for the possibility of being overthrown by his own acolyte metalheads.
To prepare myself for Jonas Åkerlund’s biographical thriller, “Lords of Chaos,” I immersed myself into Jason Lei Howden’s 2015 black metal horror film “Deathgasm” as precursor preparation into the intense and unforgiving metal macabre genre. Whereas “Deathgasm” is a balls to the weed whacker splatter film of the pissed off demonia kind, “Lords of Chaos” is a polar horror feature with factual roots. Åkerlund’s, who directed Mads Mikkelson in Netflix’s “Polar” and has an extensive history in directing music videos for various artists, draws inspiration for the 2018 film from his own experience in a Swedish Black Metal band, Bathroy, from the late 80’s. The Grammy award winning music video director creates beauty out of the horrific true life event, unidealized nearly entirely without much speculation that faithfully puts to picture a misanthropic tragedy in a bone-chilling manner.
From “Signs” to “Scream 4,” Rory Culkin has remained on the actors-to-watch radar and is most certainly, our favorite Culkin to watch on the screen. In “Lords of Chaos,” Rory plays and narrates the story as Øystein “Euronymous” Aarseth, the guitarist and creator of Norwegian Black Metal band, Mayhem. As if written stars, Euronymous surrendered to Rory Culkin’s performance and Rory Culkin became Euronymous. The eerie synonymous blurred identities that catapults Culkin to be admired amongst his peers and his worked beloved. Opposite Culkin is Emory Cohen as Kristian ‘Varg’ Vikernes, former Mayhem bandmate and convicted murdered of Euronymous. Cohen is bitterly intense with a historical figure whose committed arson and homicide and the New York City born actor uncomplicated approach to a complicated character had a natural phenomena about that would spook your soul from your body. Culkin and Cohen fed off each other’s energy to an explosive dynamic too good to be stagecraft. Another highlight from “Lords of Chaos,” though rather story line brief, is Val Kilmer’s son, Jack Kilmer, as Per Yngve Ohlin aka Dead. Kilmer tackles a depressed introvert and, in one opinion, nails the mental deficiency metalhead who was ordained to take his own life with great savagary showmanship. The film also costars Sky Ferreira (“Green Inferno”), Valter Skarsgård, Anthony De La Torre (“Johnny Gruesome”), Jonathan Barnwell, Sam Coleman (“Leatherface”), and Lucian Charles Collier.
If not paying attention, “Lords of Chaos” will slip under the radar since most audiences are conditioned to subsidize shiny cinema productions that make you feel all warm and cozy inside and spark wander and induce marvel and amazement. Åkerlund’s film will not send those sorts of puppy dog tingles down your spine. Many biopic films about ill-fated tragedy don’t do well with the general population; “Auto Focus” comes to mind with Greg Kinnear and Willem Dafoe. Critics eat up the inherent black dramas like Cookie Crunch and “Lords of Chaos” exudes madness and misery through deep seeded vigor for fame and principle. Åkerlund deserves nothing but our admirable applause for delivering an unadulterated visualization of literal mayhem from soup to nuts.
Umbrella Entertainment releases onto DVD home video “Lords of Chaos,” a co-production from Gunpowder & Sky, 20th Century Fox, Vice Films, and Insurgent Media. Presented in a widescreen, 1.85:1 aspect ratio, Umbrella Entertainment’s picture quality is exemplary in it’s natural, yet supernatural-like surrealistic manner in a clean digital presentation. Pär M. Ekberg’s depiction is hard-edge elegant and haunting with recreations of and the intertwinement of actual photos of Euronymous, Varg, and Dead. If you’ve seen “Polar,” you know Åkerlund and Ekberg brush stroke a fine line between reality and graphic novel much the same as “Lords of Chaos'” allegory. The English language Dolby Digital 5.1 surround sound mix has high level attributes with clean and perceptible dialogue, a vast range of ambient noise, and a killer black metal soundtrack worth banging your head to. No bonus features accompany this title. “Lords of Chaos” is a heavy story that needed to be told and feels very much like a part of Åkerlund, an extension of himself through his past brought forward to illuminate the blackness in us all derived from the power of metal with a psycho-psychology that’s industrial-built.
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Two Undisciplined Girls Do EVIL in the Netherlands! “My Nights With Susan, Sandra, Olga, & Julie” review!
After years with struggling with fame, Susan finds solace in an idyllic and solitude Netherlands’ farmhouse near the waterfront. Her peaceful lodging transforms in a youth hostel as she welcomes three refuge women – Sandra, Olga, and Julie – and one man – Albert – into her life and in exchange for a place to stay, Susan embraces the company after her entanglement with loneliness. Despite Sandra and Olga’s sex-crazed psychopathy and an unhinged Albert’s voyeuristic habits, Susan has been able to maintain an even keel quality of life. That’s until the handsome Anton shows up. His arrival stirs the nest of sexual desires and has Susan questioning her reclusive lifestyle. Anton’s presence also riles up Piet, a crazed women living in a shed on the outskirts of the farmhouse. To make matters more complex, Anton becomes mixed into a murder mystery involving a dead American. Was it the mischievous sexual delinquents Sandra and Olga? Or did the wild Piet finally snap her moral conscious?
During the height of the 70’s sexual revolution, the Dutch seize the opportunity to piggyback their own free love films. Pim de la Parra’s 1978 “My Nights with Susan, Sandra, Olga, & Julie is an epitome example of the Dutch sex wave genre that shares the tantalizing groping, succulent squeezing, fornicating spooning, and …well, you get the idea. Originally titled as the longwinded My Nights with Susan, Olga, Albert, Julie, Piet, & Sandra (whew), this film is the last production of Pim de la Parra’s Scorpio Films from a script co-authored between Parra, Harry Kumel from Belgium, David Kaufman from America, Charles Gormley from Scotland, and Carel Donck from the Netherlands in a melting pot of cultural creativity. “My Nights with Susan, Sandra, Olga, & Julie” sizzles the screen with nudity in characters just walking around or riding on a child’s rocking horse stark naked that’s ostensibly organic for a story beginning with cold blooded, arbitrary murder.
Before partying the circumstantial matron of a youth hostel, Netherlands’ Willeke van Ammelrooy was Eva in “Frank & Eva,” another film by Pim de la Parra. She was also Alicia in “Blue Movie” director Wim Verstappen’s “Alicia” and also played Mira in Fons Rademakers’ “Mira.” As the evidence provides, Ammelrooy is very experienced as the leading lady role, portraying three titular characters from 1971-1974 by post-humorously acclaimed Netherland directors. Yet again, Ammelrooy plays a titular character in Susan, a country cloistered luminary seeking to be a forgotten face, but Ammelrooy steely performance of a woman pretending not to be hiding secrets is a fascinating insight into a character’s personal shielding; however, when Anton, “Wet Dreams’” Hans van der Gragt, their hot and cold dynamic creates a formidable hard love rigidity influenced by forces internal to Susan and external forces from those her immediate life at the farmhouse. Olga and Sandra have more intoxicating behaviors that run the story amok and what’s more interesting about the actresses, Franulka Heyermans and Marja de Heer, is that they’re amateur actresses according to Pim de la Parra. Cold and, yet, lively, Heyermans and Heer have mountainous ration and serve Parra genuinely. Marieke van Leeuwen, Serge-Henri Valcke, Jerry Brouer, and Nelly Frijda round out the small cast.
Pim de la Parra’s influences stem heavily from Alfred Hitchcock. The filmmaker implements voyeurism and the wrongfully accused that are essential to the Hitchcockian style. I also find it hard to believe that on the first day of shooting on Hitchcock’s birthday, August 13, that Pim de la Parra’s first scenes are that of birds on a beach. Coincidence or a little salute to the master of suspense, either way, the now retired filmmaker unifies a harrowing score with birds and a beach to not only by respects to Hitchcock, but also sets the tone of the film of an erotic thriller with blotches of dark comedy strewn in.
Cult Epics proudly releases “My Nights with Susan, Sandra, Olga, & Julie” onto a new high definition two-disc Blu-ray/DVD combo set. Presented in a widescreen, 2.35:1 aspect ratio, in a 1080p transfer from the original 35mm print, preserved by the Eye Film Institute in Amsterdam. The original print is nearly pristine with a palatable amount of stock grain and with only a minor amount of film wear. No observations of border enhancing or sharpening that would dilute the bona fide quality. The Dutch DTS-HD 2.0 Master Audio track nicely accompaniments the film with depth and range and the Dutch dialogue upfront and present and the very Hitchcock-esque soundtrack by Elisabeth Lutyens (“The Skull”) provided a perfect suspense drive score in her last composer post. Supplements includes an introduction by Pim de la Parra, poster and photo video gallery, Scorpio Films’ shorts that includes “Heart Beat Fresco,” “Joop,” and “Joop Strikes Again,” and Scorpio Films’ theatrical trailers. Cult Epic’s region 1 DVD and the all region Blu-ray release favors another Dutch sex wave cinema flavor with just modernization of an intertwinement of erotically charged lust and lives with repulsive and deadly temperaments and with Pim de la Parra at the helm, you’re going to get primo framing and angles sure to captivate.
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Bikini-Cladded Revenge on a Small Time EVIL Crime Syndicate! “Rondo” review!
Disturbed and dishonorably discharged Paul finds solace at the bottom of a glass bottle. As Paul falls deeper into dire depression with drugs, the drink, and cigarettes, Jill, his sister, lays down some ground rules while he crashes on her couch. At her advice and insistence, Jill schedules a psychological appointment for him and the doctor recommends sex as a release and not just any old sex, but the behind-the-doors, underground, Freak-a-leak kind of kinky encounters. Paul joins two other men in a high rise condominium, receiving instructions on how to treat and mistreat an affluent man’s wife, but Paul becomes the witness to an organized murder party and flees for his life, barely escaping the clutches of his captors, and returning home to his sister Jill to tell her everything. The only problem is, the killers know his address and now their business becomes a family affair loaded with straight razor slashing, crowbar bashing, and automatic weapon firing mayhem.
“Rondo” is an icy revenge thriller with bullets and blood galore from writer-director Drew Barnhardt. The “Murder Loves Killers Too” director reinvigorates a pulp noir approach into the independent film market that invokes woman power through all sorts of masculinity muck. Breanna Otts and Gena Shaw flourish as the anti-leading lady by wielding large assault rifles and being the kingpin of killers amongst a bunch of kneeling and broken men. “Rondo” is also about family, believe it or not. Whether bound in endless love or broken beyond repair,the theme of taking care of your own blood comes to the forefront, but before you go showing your kids, “Rondo” takes family to hell and back and then back to hell again for a rough ride of riveting vileness and hard-on revenge.
“Rondo” doesn’t necessarily have a lead character. In act one, the voice over utters over the pitiful existence that is Paul (“Galaxy of Horror’s Luke Sorge) who, at the persistence of his sister, tries to step outside the path of destruction by stepping into a sex den at the advice of a radical, and very pregnant, psychologist. The voice over is curiously used since pertaining to the fact that the narration, provided by Steve Van Beckum, becomes nearly Paul’s inner monologue by the end of his tenure. Act two transitions into a father and daughter reunion and then revenge plotters. No voice overs accompany the two, but Jill (“Westworld” and “SWAT” actress Breanna Otts) and her father Sam (“Rage of the Mummy’s Michael Vasicek) have an exposition fest involving what ifs and to dos. Sam felt to be a wasted character; an escaped VA patient returning to his children for revenge that doesn’t quite grow from there. On the other hand, Jill extends into act three as the sole protagonist and her thirst for vengeance is clunky and clanky, stirring up a halfcocked plan in the belly of the beast that happens to work in her favor and in our favor too as Otts ends up in lacy underwear in an episode of boobs and bullets. “Rondo” rounds out with Ketrick ‘Jazz’ Copeland, Reggie De Morton, Gena Shaw, Kevin Sean Ryan, Grant Benjamin Leibowitz and introducing Iva Nora in her first role and first nude scene.
Conceptually, Barnhardt’s tale of ravage savagery rouses out from the cobwebbed conventional anecdotal pathways and while “Rondo” might be a tale that’s rarely been told, apprising the plot into maturity bid Barnhardt with a far more difficulty, leaving to squash the answers to far more questions at the roll of the end credits. One of the more puzzling questions is why does the voice over only narrate for Paul? Kicking off with a voice over that explains Paul’s downtrodden life, then transitioning quietly into Paul’s inner thoughts, and then disconnected completely that literally leaves a punctuation question mark hover just over our scalps. There’s also the question of how deep this criminal organization roots in society? How did Cassie, wife of the barbaric boss Lurdell, get to assimilate herself into positions of power to influence poor souls to become meat for the grinder.
Artsploitation Films distributes an American bloodbath with “Rondo” onto DVD home video. The not rated release is presented in a widescreen, 1.77:1 aspect ratio, and despite some banding, the picture quality spruces a fine package with natural lighting and little-to-no filter use. The Dolby Digital 5.1 Surround Sound pitches perfectly without some much of a hiccup. Range and depth are fine, though the film isn’t necessarily a heavy hitter with action, and the channels are level amongst the LFE gun blasts in the cap your ass finale. Bonus features include a director’s commentary, deleted scenes, selected music commentaries with composer Ryan Franks, and an exhibition of the gritty pulp cover art and lobby cards set to a musical score. “Rondo” is a cult indie classic through the venomous teeth of white-collar Americanisms and a torrent of human immoral inclination that relentlessly shows no mercy scene after scene.
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Its Just Not Any Evil Film. Its “A Serbian Film” review!
Milos, an aging porn star, struggles to provide for his wife and son. Though still working here and there with mediocre gigs, Milos longs for the glory days as the stud every starlet desires for a scene with, but for Milos, his family comes first and foremost. When an admiring former colleague offers him a meet and greet with a provocative director presenting a contract that would set his family stable for life, Milos assures himself doing the right thing along with the permission from his wife. He meets with Vukmir who captivates with progress pornography art, a new age of adult material, that will be novel and exciting that’s enshrouded with obscurities about who exactly the seasoned star is performing with and what exactly he is supposed to do in this project. What unravels before him is Vukmir’s mad vision that not only breaks every law and moral fiber know to mankind’s sexual nature, it completely obliterates the rules toward sexual deviances in an underground criminal industry that banks on the wealthy’s sordid tastes.
A long time has this reviewer been patiently waiting for the opportunity to screen Srdan Spasojevic’s written and directed multi-country banned film, “A Serbian Film.” Also known as “Srpski Film” in Serbia, the 2010 exploitation that features substantially graphic material with themes of necrophilia, pedophilia, and snuff rarely finds a suitable medium for an uncut presentation as Spasojevic’s feature consistently, and perhaps rightfully so, goes under the governing censorship board’s scalpel to selectively trim the excessive violence, the crude depiction of children, and all the other shocking material that’s rammed unwillingly into your backside. Fortunately, or unfortunately depending on how one perceives artful censorship, the most accessible copy of “A Serbian Film” has limited cuts that total approximately one minute worth of footage left on the cutting room floor to just eek one out from the ratings’ club. Though listed on the DVD back cover as unrated, this cut will be the one reviewed below from U.S. distributors Invincible Pictures and MVDVisual.
How does an actor run with a performance that incorporates vile and degrading perversive qualities and circumstances upon a character? I don’t know and I don’t know how, but somehow Srdjan Todorovic killed the performance as Milos. Todorovic’s veteran filmography credits establish him as a natural switch between characterizations and choking up on the reigns of each facet to achieve maximum reaction. Milos is a physically challenging role with many difficult scenes and Todorovic found inspiration out of thin air; I’m sure the Yugoslavian born actor needed a months’ worth of showers to remove the disgust from off his flesh when the film wrapped. Another complex character is Marko, Milos’ dangerously envious cop brother who chomps at the bit for Milos’ sexual longevity, stellar porn career, and his gorgeous wife. Slobodan Bestic could have passed for a Serbian Hugh Jackman from “Swordfish,” complete with little dangly earring. Bestic’s performance is unnerving, haunting, and downright salacious that waves in and out of a potentially dangerous man with a hankering for carnal informalities. Speaking of which, Vikmur epitomizes the very definition of being a lunatic. The lavish filmmaker has grandeur style with repugnant tastes in content. Sergej Trifunovic puts on the shiny shoes and fancy suits to become the venomous underground kingpin with a torrent of tasteless videos and the “Next” actor really plays the bad guy well, really does a showmanship disenfranchising Milos and those that love him their ability to enjoy free will. The remaining cast include Jelena Gavrilovic, Katarina Zutic, Luka Mijatovic, Miodrag Krcmarik, and Andela Nenadovic.
A unforeseen aspect of “A Serbian Film” that rings surprising is the engrained story of an extremely fallible hero. Srdan Spasojevic proved shocking, exploitation horror doesn’t have to be completely allegorically benign and the filmmaker has even mentioned that his film is a composite piece of abusive power from authoritative figures forcing people against their will, as if spellbound, to do atrocious acts and while these acts might not be atrocious as rape, sexual assault on children, or using an erect penis to kill someone, Spasojevic creates moments where his statements are affirmed. The transition between act 2 and act 3 backs Vukmir against a wall, trying to salvage his star’s contract by debating material that’s good for all. Spasojevic hones in on Vukmir’s raving soapbox speech to Milos about how he and his company govern the country and how they are the backbone of his of the sovereign Sebrian nation, the true delusion of power and the wool over the sheep’s eyes as the action point.
Invincible Pictures, the same folks who distributed Kevin Smith’s “Yoga Hosers,” and MVDVisual present “A Serbian Film” as a re-release onto DVD home video. Presented in a widescreen, 16:9 aspect ratio, the image warrants no mention of issues as a clean picture in a dry-yellowish tint while still maintaining some natural lighting and depth in the gruesome details pop every sensory nodes. Banding problems are faint at best and the edits are what they are sense the film is slightly trimmed anyway. The Serbian language 2.0 stereo mix pounds with a pulsating electronic-rock score and shows the ranging with the screaming, whimpering, crying, and the sloshing of blood and semen fluids. The English subtitles are error-free and have hardline text that make reading them more easily. Though usually bonus features are preferred, in this case, just having “A Serbian Film” alone on this DVD release didn’t feel necessary to have the share the film with the bonus features, creating an intimate moment between viewer and feature. “A Serbian Film” sears a glowing hot lasting impression right into the mind and soul, twisted and perverse in an unfathomable immoral compass too messed up beyond the most descriptive of descriptions. “A Serbian Film” is best viewed alone, without food, and with your sensitivity left outside.
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Going to the Country, Gonna Find Me Some EVIL! “Countrycide” review!
Big sister is getting married and Abby, forking over big money for a bridesmaid dress, can’t scrape together enough dough to afford a flight across country and to scratch off another option, Abby never learned how to drive a car dwindling Abby out of travel possibilities. In steps Mike, Abby’s tall and handsome close friend who does happen to know how to drive and, coincidently, has a car. Mike offers her a trip across the country as her plus one at the wedding. About 1/3 into the drive, exhaustion catches up with them, especially in Mike being behind the wheel 100% of the time, and without much money to spend on a motel room, the traveling duo think it best to set up camp in a stretch of wilderness. After speaking with a local government ranger, they set off to set up camp deep within the woods and as night approaches and the couple finally declare themselves hot for each other, Mike decides to return to the car for some supplies. Abby wakes up next morning realizing Mike has yet to return and in almost the same instance, she forgets where they parked the car. Wandering aimlessly through the thicket, a bear trap sinks its steely teeth into the fleshy siding of her ankle, leaving Abby hobbling alone through the woods with a hungry wolf on her trail to make matters worse. Miraculously, She’s saved by three men on a hunter’s retreat, but as they return with her to their isolated cabin, their suspicious behavior with an unwillingness to take the severely injured Abby straight to the hospital forces her to exit next morning while they stilled slumber and into an adjacent cabin where she discovers horror on a whole new level.
If the word homicide, or maybe even genocide, made sweet, sweet, angry love to the unwilling and scared word countryside, the abdominal “Countrycide” would be birthed into existence on this Earth and our congressional leadership would have legally prohibited it’s understandable abortion. Shepherding as a game foster parent is Canadian born, writer-director Brett Kelly and “Countrycide” will mark filmmaker’s third genre film through the criticism daycare of horror, following the cuddly-campy, Sci-Fi endearing “Ghastlies” and the diaper-shitting disaster that is the “Rise of the Black Cat.” A Gremlins-esques versus a super hero mess have come and gone to deliver “Countrycide” to our chop block that’s totally a horror-survival subgenre with a smidgen of exploitation and a complete lark even if unintentional.
Looking from an outward perspective, Abby is quite useless. Doesn’t know how to drive, doesn’t know where the car is, doesn’t know how to re-trace her steps out of the woods, and, yet, stammers into being a nucleus-downspout of magnetic chaos. Abby finds nothing but pure bad luck and Robin Hodge, inducted into her inaugural credited performance, bounces her saccharine chops off of various personas to become a disenchanted transfiguration character. Along for the ride is Joel Elliott as Abby’s quasi-boyfriend Mike whose emotional connection to Abby becomes decimated in a blink of an eye concluding no conclusive reason to care about his charming mug. He drives a car, cavalierly verbalizes his feelings for Abby, and then is erased from the pages as if a giant erasers literally came down and rubbed him out. Elliott has had roles in other Kelly films and so have these fellow co-stars that round out of the film: Peter Whittaker (“Raiders of the Lost Shark”), Andrew Galligan (“Ghastlies”), Trevor Payer (“My Fair Zombie”), and Lee Cyr (“Jesse James: Lawman”).
Kelly has a knack for campy-saturation and “Countrycide” splits the proverbial seams so much so that the film implodes into self-destruction, laughing manically at itself all the way to the end – funny, I didn’t initially categorize Kelly’s film was a horror-comedy, but therein lies the rub. Even textbook details, such as Abby sweaty and dirty in a fit of shock when a bear trap snaps onto her ankle, need to be illuminated. Another point to discuss is the overall pacing of the dialogue that drowns in over exposition of each event through the casts’ lips that often has a dubbed sensation. It’s like watching a giallo film from the 1970’s but where the synchronization designates more as a clumsy redneck slasher rather than an attractive murder mystery with a colorfully psychopathic adversary. Granted, swift gratuitous gore make the ushered in cut, a rock repeatedly bashed over a head or an giant log spear impalement, and that will please those gore hounds who sing the blood and violence anthem. As for the rough storytelling, characters, such as supposed hunters who hunt with single six-shooter revolver between the three of them, and the across the board acting by either unknowns or Brett Kelly staples, bad doesn’t quite describe “Countrycide’s” banal and bland vitality and must be watched, with a handle of Wild Turkey and a pack of smokes, to fully comprehend where the filmmaker was heading with his survival horror.
Wild Eye Releasing and MVDVisual go bumpkin hunting with “Countrycide” onto DVD home video. Presented in a widescreen format, “Countrycide’s” image condition is good, par for the course when considering other Wild Eye Releasing. Slight aliasing in more ariel shots, but the coloring is fine that’s perhaps on the denser contrast. The stereo sound mix, again, has that dub-like design that makes the actors sound like they’re in a studio recording their dialogue and thus isolates the vocals. Ambient track has foley written all over it with discernible focus on the twigs cracking and the birds chirping. Lets also no forget to mention to stock audio tracks of a wolf howl. There are no bonus features with this release. “Countrycide” woefully deserves a low end score, reeking up on an exploitation-survival horror by slapping together a poorly written script that cliche and trope-riddled, but being the Devil’s advocate enthusiast, “Countrycide” hit the next level in his carer even though that level might be still on the lower end of a split level, below grade.
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