Ratman

Ratman

Original Title: Quella villa in fondo al parco

Directed by: Guiliano Carnimeo

Italy, 1988

Horror, 82min

Distributed by: Shamless Films

Guliano Carnemo – perhaps most known for the magnificent Giallo Perché quelle strane gocce di sangue sul corpe di Jennifer? (The Strange Case of the Bloody Iris) 1972, get’s to work with Italian Genre cinema royalty, David Warbeck, Janet Agren - well kinda – a sultry Eva Grimaldi, and Nelson de la Rosa, who at the time was the smallest man in the world.

A photo model, is savagely killed by an unknown creature – at least within the movie’s universe, the audience know what it is – leading her sister Terry [Janet Agren] to venture to the same remote island so she can identify the corpse. At the airport trying to grab a cab, she meet’s Fred Williams [David Warbeck], a somewhat assertive writer of mystery novels, who tags along for the ride. At the morgue it turns out that it’s not Terry’s sister Marilyn on the slab after all, she’s taken off to the deep jungle with photographer Mark [Werner Pochath]. So Terry starts to search for her sister with the aid of Fred, but deep in the jungle lurks the Ratman!

The introduction of the tiny antagonist, is shot in a “documentary style” giving a scientific tone to the rats and the rat boy “Mousey” in his cage on the corner of the cellar  … moments later the camera spins around and crash zooms on the now, bust and empty cage. The threat has been set and the creature is on the prowl. But don’t worry, the serious tone is wrecked straight after the credits with a really sappy photo shoot where Eva Grimaldi strikes a few silly poses and flashes some skin for the audience before setting us up for the second shocker of the first act… after all this is an exploitation flick and what better to follow up a deliberate accidental nip slip with the discovery of bloodied skeleton! Ratman does have a kind of cheesy but delightful playfulness to it where it goes from one extreme to the next within the same scene. But it’s what we come for and that’s what makes this movie such a good time.

The narrative lurks on, setting up as something of an investigation plot where Agren several times is lured to the morgue to see the cold flesh of some unfortunate woman who’s fallen victim to the Ratman. Slowly, slowly, the two - who actually have pretty small parts in the movie compared to Grimaldi – start closing in on Marilyn who is out there in the jungle with the littlest, but deadliest threat of them all…

Despite being in the middle of he jungle, Marilyn and photographer Mark manage to find a shack, belonging to Dr Olman [Pepito Guerra], who observant viewers will notice being the doctor from the opening, and possibly keeper of Mousey. Where Marilyn obviously gets her kit off and takes a shower. It’s ironically bang in the middle of the film and in the off-screen space, an eye peeps upon the naked Marilyn…  

Part Island of Dr. Moreau, part Frankenstein, the movie plays along the familiar “don’t play god, or you will pay” device. “Mousey” – which is revealed to be a hybrid of Simian and rodent with a lethal poison without an antidote – is a marvellously paradoxical antagonist, but Nelson de la Rosa does what he can, and at the end of the day, it’s the cult value of Ratman which makes it all work. As per usual, the mad scientist, Dr Olman that is, refuses to let his creature be destroyed – as he believes he’s to be awarded a Noble Prize for his research! Don’t you just love mad scientists – and eventually, as in every good “Modern Prometheus” tale man playing god is often slain by his creation.

Ratman is a charming oddity, and a fine piece of late eighties Italian trash cinema. There’s some scares, there’s some nudity, there’s a pretty original and interesting monster and there’s some great Italian style effects in the shape of grubby gore and cheap puppetry – you just check out Monique’s [Anna Silvia Grullon] death scene, it’s brilliant with the small puppet Mousey hands that claw their way out of the bog. A magic moment to say the least.

Compared to the other classics they penned, I wouldn’t say that Ratman was the best piece of work legendary screenwriter Dardano Sacchetti, and the un-credited Elisia Briganti wrote. But despite being something of a straight up horror movie with a classic monster narrative, there are also a couple of Gialli traits spread throughout the movie. The monster being seen on a photograph early on, if the photographer only had taken the time to blow up the image, we’d have had a full blown homage to Antonioni’s Blow-Up. Gialli aesthetics are noted when Peggy [Louisa Menon] hides away from an unseen assailant grinding a big knife against the wall in an intimidating way as he stalks her. Large areas of the screen are kept in the dark, and flashes of light reflect off the knife. Warbeck, being a “crime novelist” takes on the role of amateur sleuth, and can pinpoint the exact series of events leading up to the first characters death (not counting the peeping tom in the jungle, during the first photo shoot.) I like this playing with other genre traits and it’s a good trick to get the ball rolling before going back into full horror mode.

Although I find it curious as to why the movie is set up with Eva Grimaldi’s Marilyn, the monster is introduced, and then a load of time is wasted on Agren and Warbeck, before returning to a huge portion of the plot focusing on Grimaldi. Agren and Warbeck never really come to any use in the movie, and I would have liked to see them do a lot more than merely bee filler material, then again, Warbeck plays if for real. Never mind what he was playing, Warbeck always played for keeps, and I can never get enough of that.

The movie really takes off after Grimaldi’s exploitation film trait, the obligatory pleasurable shower scene, and the nightmare she endures during the last half of the movie is pure horror, one by one everyone around her is killed by mousey and eventually she has to take him on all by herself. Fred and Terry eventually find Eva and the movie comes to a pretty anticlimactic closure, which leads to a rather cheap and silly last twist, but it will leave you with a smile on your face.

Edited by Fulci regular, Vincenzo Tomassi, and produced by Fabrizio De Angelis – who hadn’t produced a horror flick since Fulci’s Manhattan Baby 1982, and then only ever returned twice again after Ratman - the Sacchetti/Briganti scripted movie has plot holes the size of Mousey. But at the same time this is a movie that is filled with some great images and delightful scenes that will stay with you forever. As the above mentioned toilet attack, you will never forget the freezer scare or the scene where Nelson de la Rosa chases Grimaldi. Wildly psychotronic stuff, the stuff cult legend is made of

Rare titles like this are what make it all worthwhile - if only someone could release Gianfranco Giagni's Il nido del ragno (Spider Labyrinth) 1988 now, that'd be great! Credit has to be given to Shameless Films, not only for carrying a hard to find anywhere else title, but also for the painstaking restoration they have given Ratman. A variation of sources have been used to make this the most complete version of Ratman available, and unlike other hybrid releases, Ratman never looses that much in quality when going from one source material to another, and Warbeck speaks english all the way through, although there's one scene where it's an obvious american dub. Ratman definitely is a testament to the last breathes of the Italian exploitation genres, and one you shouldn’t be missing out on any more!

Panic

Panic
Original title/Aka: Bakterion
Directed by: Tonino Ricci
Italy/Spain, 1982
Horror, 90min

One of my oldest mates here in Stockholm gave me an advanced VCR player some six-seven years back, when he cleared out his warehouse of stuff he’d had in storage since the video racket died out some ten – fifteen years before that. A few weeks ago he found a big cardboard box of old Japanese video tape originals amongst his junk, and invited me to come look at the newly discovered treasure, which I obviously did. I borrowed a bunch of stuff I haven’t seen in ages, or missed the first time around, and again I find myself reflecting other the fact that these old horror flicks, despite how great they look re-mastered, in HD, great clean crisp sound, never really looked better and more enchanting than they did on shoddy video with blurry colours, buzzy sound and grainy images. I’m all for re-mastered re-issues filled to the brim with new interviews and nostalgic retrospect’s, but I can still feel that addiction to VHS like there’ never been S-Video, Laserdisc, VCD, DVD or Blu-ray. It’s an unexplainable kind of magic.

Through a freak accident at a chemical lab, Professor Adams [Roberto Ricci - son of director Tonini] becomes a contagious bloodthirsty monster. Adams colleague and assistant, Jane [Janet Ågren] and Captain Kirk [David Warbeck] are assigned to find out what happened to the professor – as it all starts out as a mystery venture, only the audience know of the monster. But pretty soon the monster is slaying young lovers, roaming the underground sewer system of Newton and spreading panic along his way.

Wasting no time at all, the movie opens with a suggestive shot of some very familiar footage of a place that could be none other than eighties UK. The suggestive footage presents the viewer with an awe of pending threat. Moments later following some shots of Janet Ågren posing with the science props and concluding that there experiment is going wrong, the lab rats are becoming insane and then the genesis of the movies antagonist – Professor Adams - is presented, well at least his boiling, melting blistering face is. The world they live in is established, the monster is presented, the table is set, now let’s rock.

An early attack is used to show the fury and destruction in the monsters wake, when two young lovers get it on inside a small car and get interrupted mid coitus as a disfigured being yanks the bloke out of the car, smashing him into the bonnet before chasing the semi nude chick into a warehouse corner and gutting her. Even the cops are disgusted with the remains when they find her tattered body later on.

If you want to see totally out-dated computer screens, spontaneous nudity punished by violent death, panic in the streets of England – well we never really see it, but they talk about it a lot - and David Warbeck magnificently sneering his way towards yet another pay check, then you will want to check Panic out.

Oh, and I forgot to tell you about a delicate picante minor subplot concerning a perhaps a tad too friendly and sleazy priest [Eugenio Benito] who initially awards the children of the quire with sweets and later is seen walking at night with a flock of them… hiding themselves from the monster they take to locking themselves in the Church… I love the subtle paradox of children hiding from one horror with a one possibly even larger than the monster. Also, you can’t go wrong using children in threatening situations, as it’s one of the most effective tricks in the world. Amusingly I hold a theory that the Spanish genre writers and directors are the filmmakers who predominately use children as a driving force, an emotional tool and a dramatic instrument in their movies. Almost every Spanish flick these past years concerns orphanages, unfortunate children, kiddie ghosts or something that poses threats to children in one way or another – just look at the movies of the Spanish new wave these past years and you’ll see what I’m talking about. So it’s entertaining to see that screenwriters Víctor Andrés Catena and Jaime Comas Gil where aware of that whilst penning this little oddity way back in the day.

Overall this movie get’s somewhat slayed in reviews, but I can only take this as being critique delivered by people who don’t really appreciate the fine art of European exploitation flicks shot on minuscule budget. Panic does have a pretty decent drive forth throughout, split up between three sub plots. The detective plot of Ågren and Warbeck searching for Adams, the horror plot of the Monster on the prowl and the political subplot of Sir Charles (i.e. Government) setting Plan Q in action – A plan that concerns the total destruction of the village of Newton. Several subplots come together rather early on, as we move into act two where Warbeck questions Sir Charles decision of setting Plan Q in action, is ordered to eliminate the contagion and also told that he’s allowed to use his gun. Warbeck never lets his audience down and once the threat is revealed, this movie get’s going. Exposition is over, now let the fun begin. Yeah so it may not be completely logic why the monster kills, or for what reason, certain questions are never answered and the script is kind of all over the place. But at the same time, I’m here for some cheap thrills, a non-intellectual stimuli and a good time with some cheap European trash cinema. Panic delivers by the bucket full up to the rather bland climax. Oh, the monster, Ågren and Warbeck arcs do culminate, but there’s more to follow that…

The grisly effects and fleshy monster makeup by Rino Carboni and Cataldo Galliano do what they are supposed to – for the time effective and no lesser that other effects at the time. The movie keeps Dr. Adams off screen for as long as possible as to build to that inevitable last minute reveal. See, it's not all wrong, there's a lot of stuff working in favor of Panic. Cinematographer Giovanni Bergamini – who also shot Lenzi’s Cannibal Ferox 1981 and several movies for Enzo G Castellari, Quel maledetto treno blindato (The Inglorious Bastards) 1978, amongst them, sets and composes shots in a way that never really sands out. Although take note of the way Fulci regular Vincenzo Tomassi edits the first gore sequences, it’s fascinating, but unfortunately never repeated again in the movie. This is unfortunately as this is a splendid way of getting the most out of a tension reliever! Finally one should say something of Marcello Giombini’s score, as it is pretty neat and get’s the job done, at times it’s catchy, works with the action on screen and does add to the eighties feel of the movie.

According to rumour – or video folklore if you like – the movie was actually shot in 1976 under the name Bakterion, but was deemed so terrible by the producers – kind of unjust if you ask me as there’s certainly worse shite been released that Panic – that it was shelved until the early eighties when hard core gore movies where in demand. Sounds bogus, but an interesting story as there’s a small chance the movie could have been innovative more than a knock off of a knock off, as the movie ends with a somewhat time typical “pending doom prophecy” text-plate to simmer in the audiences minds as they walk away from the movie, much like the ones seen in Bruno Mattei’s Virus (Hell of the Living Dead) 1980, Andrea Bianchi’s Le notti del terrore (Burial Ground : Nights of Terror) 1981 and Umberto Lenzi’s Incubo sulla città contaminate (Nightmare City) 1981 to name a few.

A fun note is that Production designer on the flick, Javier Fernández would later go on to be a highly acclaimed art director and receive Goya nominations for several of the movies he worked on during the mid-late nineties… such as Almodóvar's Kika 1994.

Director, Tonino Ricci – who worked second unit on movies for Mario Bava and both of Lucio Fulci’s White Fang flicks - had a pretty decent run going at the time, under the pseudonym Anthony Richmond, and churned out a fistful of entertaining low budget lookalikes of other successful genre flicks at the time. I can’t really say why this one still is something of a lost movie. It certainly doesn’t move slower than others still being hailed as epic works. The grand formula of Panic is Boy and girl get into some heavy petting, Monster turns up and slays them whilst Warbeck and Åberg look for Professor Adams… who we all know is the monster killing the horny kids and naked chicks. There’s a threat established early on that the small English village is going to be nuked and you don’t really need much more that that to keep a movie alive now do you?

The Antichrist

The Antichrist

Original Title: L’antichristo

Directed by: Alberto De Martino

Italy, 1974

Horror/Satan/Occult, 112 min

Distributed by: Optimum Releasing.

As far as satanic possession movies go there’s not too many of them tach come off as anything else than cheesy Exorcist rip offs. These past weeks I’ve seen several variants on the old possessed teenage chick story, and it’s fair to say that the most of them all fall into the same pitfalls and needless to say they all have the same familiar traits that we know all to well.

Current stuff like Manuel Carballo’s La posesión de Emma Evans (Exorcismus) 2010, Daniel Stamm’s The Last Exorcism 2010 or even Paco & Balaugeró’s [Rec]2 2009, all play by the book, and you know before the last act rolls through you will have seen bile, rolling eye whites, foul language snarled out by the possessed and in the most cases levitation. Needless to say these movies look fantastic, a lot has happened since William Friedkin unleashed his 1973 milestone movie based on Peter Blatty’s novel of the same name. But I still hold a naïve fascination for those movies released much nearer to that landmark of genre cinema, the stuff so painfully trying to cash in on the success of The Exorcist. I’m obviously talking about movies like Mario Bava’s Lisa e il diavolo (Lisa & The Devil) 1974 - also recut with alternate material to assimilate Fridekin’s movie under the name House of Exorcism, Amando De Ossorio’s La endemoniada (The Possessed) 1975 and Alberto de Martino’s L’antichristo (The Antichrist) 1974 to name a few.

Those movies, despite how they did at the box-office back then, have become somewhat cult classics by today’s standards. Back then they where painfully trying to get in on the action, and being so close to that original flick, I feel that they where lost at the time. Today it’s movies like these that I can appreciate as they tried to pull stuff off on minimal budgets and to some extent succeeded in mimicking the sensationalism of the original.

Since a terrible accident in her childhood Ippolita Oderisi [Carla Gravina] has been paralyzed from waist down. Her religious father Massimo [Mel Ferrer] is supportive and takes her on pilgrimages to various sacred places and statues of saints in hope of some miracle cure. Even Bishop Ascanio Oderisi [Arthur Kennedy] is concerned and holds masses to pray for Ippolita. Although when Ippolita’s brother Fillipo [Remo Girone] turns up at a party with his mate Marcello Sinibaldi [Umberto Orsini] desperately trying to match the two together, Ippolita pretty soon realises that Sinibaldi is a psychiatrist with a hidden agenda.

Convinced that Ippolita’s handicap is rooted in her background, perhaps in a former life way before that childhood accident, Dr. Sinibaldi persuades Ippolita to undergo some regression therapy hypnosis. That’s when the trouble starts. In her previous life Ippolita was a witch, also playing dual roles with a spiffy longhaired blonde wig, and this witch was burned at the stake for being in league with Satan. Obviously this demonic force takes a grip of Ippolita and pretty soon she can’t tell the awoken past life persona from the real Ippolita. Which is a great thing for us as this gives De Martino and his cinematographer Aristide Massaccesi – yes old loveable Joe D’Amato – an opportunity to mess around with back projection, mate screens and creating some pretty neat levitation, transformation and freaky special effect moments including a couple of really impressive imploding mirrors and television screens along the way.

Like any movie in the demonic possession realm Ippolita vomits bile, she spreads her legs and taunts everyone around her with her sexuality, makes sideboards and cupboards levitate around the room and decomposes with each day that goes until there’s only the demon present and almost no Ippolita at all. Finally the moment we have been awaiting is upon us, Massimo's brother, Bishop Oderisi, arrives to take on the age old nemesis of the church and the final battle commences… or wait it doesn’t because this movie holds yet another surprise for it’s audience.

In film theory some studies latch frantically onto what’s known as the image system, it’s at times so farfetched that it becomes almost more parody than anything else. One of my favourite passages in all the writings Russian filmmaker Andrej Tarkovsky left behind is when he discusses the reoccurrence of horses, apples and billowing fields in his work. After years of film students and academics trying to force their theories and interpretations of his “image system” Tarkovsky himself wrote that he simply liked the look of horses, apples and billowing fields. That’s fucking brilliant and such a smack in the face of over analytical bullshit. Which also is one of the reasons I write the crap I write on here, there’s no need to sneer at alternative low budget cinema, as it’s filled to the brim of the same symbolism, traits, storytelling and image systems that the acknowledged filmmakers and art house posers have been using for all time.

Getting back on track, it’s fair to say that the image system of The Antichrist has to be toads. Toads figure in several occasions throughout the movie and these toads are obviously associated with negative values, evil magical beasts and demonic creatures. The reason for this is of course the metaphoric value that they hold, the transformation from tadpole to full grown toad represents the resurrection, the rebirth. Much like the rebirth of the demon in The Antichrist. Then there’s the symbol value of strong feminine energy, clearly the energy of the female demon. It’s also a key part of the antichrist communion, where the torn off head of the toad serves as the body of Satan!

This is a great little movie. It’s entertaining as hell and takes several sudden turns. It has a lot going for it with the back-story that slowly lets out more information as it goes along. For a while I was sure that the Mel Ferrer relationship with Swedish starlet Anita Strindberg would be milked and become a sinister back-story where Ferrer had cheated on his wife with Strindberg before that terrible accident hence being projected guilt that had paralyzed Ippolita. There’s a small indication of oedipal jealousy in there, but nothing that really pays off apart from a few lines of possessed blasphemy and raunchy talk concerning her father and future wife’s sexual appetites. But it never goes for the guilt trip in that classic way. Instead the entire back-story arc is dedicated to the witch trial and execution. A parallel story that’s also reflected in the main narrative, such as the last minute redemption that turns former life witch Ippolita into the saint she visits at during the opening sequence. This opening sequence is mirrored in more than one-way during the movie’s climax, but you’ll just have to check it out to see in what way.

I find that Alberto De Martino’s script, co-written with Vincenzo Mannino and Gianfrano Clerici is satisfying as it uses what we've seen and brings something new with it - a very salty italian twist just the way we want it. This approach is nothing new for Mannino – writer of several character driven Poliziotteschi about Police Inspector Betti, commonly portrayed by Maurizio Merli and epic adventures also “in the familiar style of others” like Enzo G. Castellari’s L’ultimo squalo (Great White) 1981 or Ruggero Deodato’s I predatori di Atlantide (The Raiders of Atlantis) 1982, has been down that path on more than one occasion. But perhaps it mostly the movies he worked as co-writer on, stuff like Deodato’s La casa sperduta nel parco (House on the Edge of the Park) 1980, Lucio Fulci’s Lo squartatore di New York (The New York Ripper) 1982 and Murder-Rock: uccide a passo di danza (Murder-Rock: Dancing Death) 1984 that he’s most known for. Movies he primarily co-wrote with Gianfranco Clerici. Regular readers will know that I have something of a fetish for movies based on Clerici’s scripts, as I feel he very much indeed did write/work on some of the finest genre movies to ever come out of Italy.

Every demonic possession movie demands a grand entrance of Old Nick himself, and at least one moment that leaves it’s mark on the audience. The Black Mass where past life Ippolita engages in a satanic orgy is fantastic. I won’t spoil it for you but there’s a goat scene – which isn’t graphic at all, but fantastically suggestive and really brilliantly edited by Vincenzo Tomassi, who you recall edited all those Lucio Fulci movies. Tomassi brings a great flow to The Antichrist and it rarely feels as if it’s loosing pace, and there’s several brilliant juxtapositions you really need to see if you are into suggestive editing – and fucking amazing movies. Apart from the goat incident, there’s a hilarious moment where Ippolita flashes her lady parts to Bishop Oderisi, and his reaction is priceless, and just one of several splendid moments in The Antichrist.

I’ve hade the soundtrack by Ennio Morricone and Bruno Nicolai lying around for years, and it’s finally been a treat to actually put some images to the mental ones those tracks have been conjuring all these years. Needless to say the music is tremendously fitting when you have images to go with it.

Something I find intriguing about The Antichrist is the way De Martino uses, or rather not doesn't use his cast. There are some pretty damned good genre names in there, but none of them really get a moment to shine. Instead the whole movie does belong to Gravina who gives a grand performance in the lead. But it still feels kind of sore not to use the cast more than De Martino has. Mel Ferrer is about as interesting as drying paint, Strindberg more or less disappears from the flick after she once briefly get’s her kit off (next to an obviously bothered Ferrer who has to snog her next), the iconic Alida Valli is merely there for two small sequences and Kennedy, well he does his five minute bit and then fucks off. It’s odd and primarily saved by Gravinas dedicated performance.

As a little bonus for you if you want to get über-geeky, look out for bit part actor Ernesto Colli as the possessed man, he’s part of the mirror imagery I was talking about earlier, he's one of those faces you always remember and recognise in the large amount of movies he had bits in. And keep your eyes open when Filippo walks into the party after the opening segment. That blonde on his arm is another Scandinavian actress, this time none other than Ulla Johannsen! Doesn’t ring a bell? Well perhaps you remember her better as the naked chick with the machinegun in Enzo G. Castellari’s Ouei maledetto treno blindato (The Inglorious Bastards) 1978. There's iconic imagery if there every was iconic imagery!

Alberto De Martino followed The Antichrist with the Poliziotteschi Una Magnum Special per Tony Saitta (Blazing Magnum) 1976, held by many as one of the finest entries into that genre. It’s comes as no surprise to see that Clerici and Mannino wrote the script. Only three years later De Martino ventured back into satanic territory with Holocaust 2000, which wasn’t only a take on Richard Donner’s 1976 hit The Omen, but also sports a great performance from Spartacus himself, Mr. Kirk Douglas.

Image:

1.85:1 Colour.

Audio:

Dolby Digital Mono, 2.0 English dialogue.

Extras:

None.

Cannibal Holocaust

Cannibal Holocaust
Directed by: Ruggero Deodato
Italy 1980
Horror/Cannibals, 95min

The cannibal genre, an odd little bastard offspring in Italian film cinema that definitely left it’s mark and still today seems to be one of the most provocative of them all. It’s hard to believe that a string of movies made some thirty years ago still have the ability to provoke people in the way that the cannibal films did.

Such a great little macabre niche that it's still packs a hard punch to the gut and Italian genre directors are finding there way back there once again...

With their roots on the Mondo genre, and a pretty successful run of movies both predating and following the outstanding Cannibal Holocaust – among them Umberto Lenzi’s infamous ”banned in 37 countries” epic Cannibal Ferox, (Make Them Die Slowly) 1981 – but it’s only Cannibal Holocaust that tries to do something different within it’s own genre. It aims a critique towards the genre, the Mondo films, and even towards itself.

Here’s a quick fix to set you up – although I doubt that you really need one…

Getting quickly into the plot, the film starts with a news report on documentary filmmaker Alan Yates [Carl Gabriel Yorke who at times reassembles a young Tom Cruise] gone missing in the jungle during the shoot of his new production “The Green Hell” A few moments later and anthropologist Harold Monroe [Robert Kerman – who later starred in Umberto Lenzi’s Magiati vivi! (Eaten Alive) 1980 Cannibal Ferox (Make Them Die Slowly) 1981] is assigned to find the team. Travelling deep into the jungle with a constant affirmation of how dangerous and threatening the place is – like witnessing the cruel ritualistic punishment for adultery - they make contact with the Yucamo tribe. Continuing the narrative device of laying out question marks the tribe chief in his native tongue tries to tell them what has happened in the partially destroyed village. After witnessing combat between the rival cannibal tribes The Swamp People (Shamatari) and the Tree people (Yanomamo) they intervene and make friends with the Yanomamo tribe, gradually becoming accepted by them and finally being given the lost film stock of the Yates expedition – after Monroe chomps down on human flesh. So far we fear what has happened to the members of the expedition and empathize with them because of the possible fate they met, there’s a natural curiosity that wants to find out if they are alive and what has happened, but that will all change pretty soon…

Back in New York Monroe is thrown onto TV shows for interviews and used as part of the promotion ahead of the premier broadcast of the Yates documentary. He’s asked by the Pan American Broadcast Company to assist in the assembly and completion of the Yates material, and he agrees on the terms that he as an anthropology professor can review all the footage first. At first the footage shows the happy team going about normal life, preparing for their shoot and candidly joking with each other. Monroe and the editor laugh at the material and we still empathize for the filmmakers. But soon there’s a dark side to the expedition that starts to surface in the material. Moving at high speed and primarily filling in the narrative question marks the notorious animal carnage begins with Alan Yates shouting out directions on what to shoot with the cameras. We start to question the filmmakers, and loose some of the empathy we have had towards them. The scenes of depravity and dark cynicism of director Yates who stops at nothing to provoke illustrious footage for his production, becomes more and more shocking, and Monroe decides that this footage is so disturbing and unethical that it would be an inhuman to air it on television. But the executives know the sensationalistic value of the material the are sitting on and refuse to not air the documentary, so Monroe is left with no further option that to show them the two reels of footage that not even the editors dared show them. The magnum opus of atrocities where the cynical Alan Yates stops at nothing to provoke the most exclusive material he ever could even if it costs him the life of his team and friends… At this point the audience is rooting for the cannibals, we want those fiendish filmmakers punished – it’s the miracle of movie manipulation taking place. Reaching its climax the executives are left silent in shock and repulsion before ordering the destruction of all the footage. Harold Monroe leaves the broadcast offices posing the question “I wonder who the real cannibals are?”

In every possible way Cannibal Holocaust is one of the most notorious films to come out of Italy, and with out a doubt one of the most important pieces of that small subgenre known as the cannibal films. Instead of being the common straightforward movie, packing a classic action narrative and gut-munch-a-go-go, it instead points sharp critique against the movies that they had been churning out in that odd little niche.

Coming off The Concorde Affair 1979 Deodato was approached by producers to make a movie in the style of his earlier flick Ultimo mondo cannibale (Last Cannibal World) 1977. Said and done, location scouting started, and equipped with an extremely potent script written once again by Gianfranco Clerici and Deodato, production on Cannibal Holocaust started in June 1979.

The ”documentary style” footage of Allan Yates expedition was first to roll through the cameras, but after only few days of filming, the actor originally cast as the lead antagonist Yates quit the movie, which had the shoot come to a grinding halt as they all awaited re-casts and hoped to find a new leading man. Finally Carl Gabriel Yorke arrived on set, and armed with their 16mm cameras they roamed through the jungles of Leticia, Colombia near the Amazonas shooting that fascinating material of animal cruelty, arranged provocations, candid sexuality, rape, and all the shocking atrocities that make up that offensive material.

But where many other movies in the Exploitation genre are made with a smile on their faces, the production of Cannibal Holocaust suffered from an extreme tense atmosphere as the cast and crew started to realise what they where getting themselves into. Authentic animal cruelty, frequent cast nudity, and the harrowing location added to the already tense shoot, and needless to say not to many of the cast and crew had much care for each other at the end of production – rather the opposite. And most fingers pointed straight at Ruggero Deodato, accusing him of being callous, heartless genuine bastard. If you have ever met Mr. Deodato you will know that this image is nowhere near the impression that this polite gent gives – well not off set at least. It’s quite possible that Deodato, fully aware that his movie would provoke not only cinema audiences, but also the makers of the movies that the film criticized, and the industry he was working in, and realised that he was in a very compromising situation. And the producers back in Italy where going wild as they watched rushes, screaming aloud for more, More, MORE!

Never the less five weeks in the Colombian jungle and a week in New York and Rome later, the movie was in the can and if the anxious atmosphere on set was an issue, it was still nothing compared to what was to come. After premiering in Milan, Italy early 1980, Cannibal Holocaust only played for ten days before it was taken off the screen and into court. Charges where filed against as they believed the film was an authentic snuff piece, but after presenting proof that the actors, and the iconic impaled woman, where indeed alive and well, the case was dismissed. But due to the raw nature of the animal killings the movie was still a sensitive issue, and it remained banned in Italy for another four years. Needless to say the movie faced serious censorship problems outside of Italy too and ended up being banned in several countries or even worse released after some serious cut where made.

One of the main reasons that Cannibal Holocaust caused such an outrage – apart from the apparent animal cruelty - is all due to the magic of filmmaking. The provocative and very realistic” documentary footage” causes a mind set that the stuff we are watching is real. As the quality and grain of the material we are seeing changes we believe that what is shown is actually real documentary footage, and is further enhanced as we see cinematographers and equipment in shot on several occasions. Also there’s an innovative use of dialogue that set’s up this little trick. Several times as we go to, and from the 16mm footage there’s technical dialogue presented, “I’ve added some archive music for effect” “This first segment is silent” “Remember this is a very rough cut, almost like watching rushes” “ There should be some sound coming in now…” etc. There are also audio flaws, damage and scratches to the film stock, which help to sell the fantastic illusion that the footage is real.

There’s also a magnificent narrative going on in Cannibal Holocaust. Deodato has through the Professor Monroe scenes, planted several questions and referents that later will be answered and revealed as we start going through the documentary footage. Early on they find the body of the Yates expedition’s guide Miguel, and Chaco, Monroe’s guide say’s “I wonder what mistake he made to end up dead…” They find the carcass of a giant river turtle… this and other questions delicately planted, build a natural suspense and curiosity that draws the viewer in to the narrative.

The ingenious use of a non-linear narrative is brilliant. Posing questions in the first half only to answer them in the later creates a constant forward motion throughout the movie that keeps it moving rapidly, and interesting. Added to that non-linear narrative there’s every now and again a line of dialogue or two to raise new questions and look ahead; “What happened here…?” “You think that was bad? Alan could do much worse!” “You haven’t even seen the stuff your editors didn’t dare show you!” Which drives the movie forth and suggests even worse material to come, creating a natural anticipation with the viewer. Cannibal Holocaust has some very effective dialogue, which contributes to the narrative, in a many ways adds to making the movie stand out amongst the other pieces in the niche. But it doesn’t stop there, Deodato stays true to the illusion that the film is for real and sets it up with tests at the opening and ending of the movie – “For the sake of authenticity, some of the sequences have been retained in their entirety” is stated in the opening, and works just like those great lines of dialogue. As the movie comes to it’s end, the following text is resented "Projectionist John K. Kirov was given a two-month suspended sentence and fined $10,000 for illegal appropriation of film material. We know that he received $250,000 for the same footage." Still staying with the illusion this gives something of an open ending, for even though the cynical TV producers may have come to insight and demanded that the footage be destroyed, the editor who we saw in the movie didn’t and corrupted by the power of exploitation he sold the footage into others hands. It keeps the line between fact and fiction blurry, which is a condition for the movie to work.

With that said, it is also of significance to point out that the animal cruelty is part of that same narrative, as it is the killings that sell the illusion of the violent deaths at the last half of the film. The movie may have worked without the animal deaths, or less of them, but that authenticity is what makes us believe the atrocities and carnage that are presented. It’s a brilliant piece of filmmaking that still to this day is very effective, and I challenge anyone who has not seen it yet to watch it and walk away unaffected. It is not possible.

Technically the movie is amazing, there’s the contrasting hand held 16mm vs. the solid, stable 35mm shot by cinematographer Sergio D’Offizi [Lucio Fulci’s The Eroticist & Non si sevizia un paperino (Don’t Torture a Duckling) 1972 and later that year Deodato’s La casa sperduta nel parco (House on the Edge of the Park) 1980] and masterfully edited by Fulci’s editor Vincenzo Tomassi who undoubtedly was a valuable part of bringing the realism of this magnificent movie to life. There’s the great performances by the unknown actors Francesca Ciardi, Perry Pirkanen, Luca Barbareschi and Carl Gabriel Yorke. Even former adult actor Robert Kerman sells the part – even though the movie didn’t give him the big break in serious acting that he wanted and returned to the adult industry. It’s almost like watching clockworks where everything perfectly fits into each other to make the motion flow smoothly.

On that critique against the genre – well it’s easy to find it when you are looking for it. In the genesis of Cannibal Holocaust it’s said that Deodato was inspired by two things: one claims he watched news reports with his son and realised that all the reporting was focusing on the violence and not the stories behind the events, which lead him to suspect that some stories where arranged in attempts to create more sensational material. The second is that he saw a documentary on the same topic that Cannibal Holocaust is about – the transmission of missing footage, and it’s said that what was shown on TV was much worse than anything in the movie.

And that’s where the critique is found. Just as the Mondo genre also staged, arranged and provoked sensationalistic material, this is what Alan Yates and his team do too. There are several referrals to becoming famous and receiving an Oscar for their material. There’s a cynicism there - fame and fortune, but at what cost. This line of questioning returns several times and it’s also apparent when Monroe starts going through the footage and the TV executives start drooling over the sensational footage they are holding. They even show him Yates previous movie “The Road to Hell” – which uses the exact same font as the opening sequence of Cannibal Holocaust, all to expand on the illusion that it’s all real - which too has authentic executions. But the executives make sure to point out that Yates staged it all as Yates “knew what he was after”. This also rings true for the Mondo genre, which frequently was questioned. But the TV executives, just like exploitation film producers can only see the profits in the material and do not care much for Monroe’s objecting until they are forced to see the material. But the question remains –at what cost can we continue producing exploitative entertainment? This is best exemplified in that last line of dialogue “I Wonder who the real Cannibals are?” It invites the viewers to look inwards and question themselves, and realise that the rhetoric question is posed to us.

One of the most remarkable things with Cannibal Holocaust is the ironic melancholy that Riz Ortolani’s splendid soundtrack brings with it. Appreciating the contrast of harsh imagery set against soft gentle music found in Cavara/Jacopetti/Prosperi's Mondo Cane 1962, Deodato approached Ortolani to compose a score reminiscent of that soundtrack, specifically the track More - nominated for an Academy Award and at one time covered by the great Frank Sinatra - and the result is one of the best scores ever composed. A magnificent piece of work that at times is romantically naïve and mordantly primal, great stuff.

There’s no way around it, Cannibal Holocaust is a fantastic piece of cinema without even cramming it into any specific genre slot. It’s disturbing, harrowing, transgressive, revolting and at times sarcastically comical in the darkest way, and a damned fine movie still to this day. It makes no difference what ever little niche you may be into, Cannibal Holocaust touches on them all, and it is a masterpiece of cinema that desperately needs to be re-evaluated and placed amongst the great classics of celluloid history.

There are currently several releases of this eminent movie available, with a varied amount of extras to each release. The only thing you need to be sure of, is that you buy the uncut version, if you don’t already have it that is. If not, you know what your next purchase should be.