Showing posts with label Joe D'Amato. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Joe D'Amato. Show all posts

Friday, May 28, 2010

Film Review: BUIO OMEGA (1979, Joe D'Amato)

Stars: 2.5 of 5.
Running Time: 94 minutes.
AKA: BEYOND THE DARKNESS, THE FINAL DARKNESS.
Tag-line: "A fate worse than death!"
Notable Cast or Crew: Kieran Canter (EROTICOBLUES, THE LONELY LADY) , Cinzia Monreale (Fulci's THE BEYOND, Argento's STENDHAL SYNDROME), Franca Stoppi (THE OTHER HELL, VIOLENCE IN A WOMEN'S PRISON). Music by Goblin!
Best one-liner: "No one can cook a chicken like my niece!"

Joe D'Amato's name ain't exactly synonymous with cinematic quality––he's more from the "make as many rip-offs in as little time as possible" school of thought than the "film is art" one. He directed 192 films in less than 30 years (123 of which were made in the final decade of his life). Some have said that BUIO OMEGA is his greatest film. Okay. Some have even said it's one of the best Italo-horror flicks of the 70's––but let me stop you right there. Now, I guess it holds the attention and has a terrific Goblin score, but let's be honest: this is not a good movie. This is not even close to being a good movie. But should you expect a good movie from the guy who felt it necessary to make pornographic remakes of BASIC INSTINCT (ANAL INSTINCT), PAPRIKA (ANAL PAPRIKA), and LOLITA (ANAL PERVERSIONS OF LOLITA)?  Theoretically, he makes Tinto Brass look like Anthony Asquith. I mean, Joe made a movie called ANAL STRIPPERS X-POSED. He saw HIGHLANDER and his first thought was to make it into a porno, which he apparently did!

On the surface, a description of the events contained within BUIO OMEGA may paint it as the kind of picture designed for the sole purpose of eliciting shock from the viewer, but it must be noted that the tone is extremely matter-of-fact, even to the point of indifference. Rather than reveling in the 'check out this X-treme grossness, fanboy!' vibe which emanates from the SAW or HOSTEL series, or more recently, THE HUMAN CENTIPEDE, D'Amato comes across as strangely earnest (at least with this particular film). In fact, it's unclear whether or not he sees the behavior depicted in the film as any more aberrant than that in, say, one of Roger Corman's Poe adaptations.


So let me give you the rundown: the Italian James LeGros (Kieran Canter) is a taxidermy-loving orphan and heir to a great, decaying fortune. His creepy housekeeper (Franca Stoppi) arranges for his betrothed to be snuffed out via some sort of voo-doo doll fuckery.

The creepy housekeeper in question.

Anguished, he does what anyone would do–

swipe her body from the grave, pump out her brains via a nose tube that deposits what looks like vodka sauce into a jar, eat her heart out (literally), murder a hitchhiker, and then engage in erotic lactation and multiple cover-ups with the creepy housekeeper.

Yeah, blood IS shooting out of the aorta, mid-chomp.

All of this is accompanied by a LOT of crash zooms and some super-jazzy Goblin grooves. (Particularly of note is the upbeat boogie-woogie which plays alongside scenes of an unfortunate gal getting her fingernails ripped off with pliers.) Then he starts dissolving people in acid, having random erotic encounters that end in cannibalism, burning people alive, and awkwardly applying lotion to the ankles of visiting joggers.


Freud seems to like this movie just fine.

Somebody gets stabbed in the nuts and an eyeball gets plucked from its socket. An unexpected twin even shows up. Oh, and there's some fantastic landscape shots of the Alps in there, too.


There's a nice bit of near-slapstick where his deceased lover's hand pops out from the sliding panel in his van,

a ludicrous dance scene,

'Who do you think did the choreography?,' I asked my girlfriend. 'I think maybe they gave the actress a bunch of Ludes and let the choreography do itself,' she replied.

and a truly disgusting sequence where the eating of stew is crosscut with eyeballs and bits of flesh decomposing in a pool of acid. Yum.

What's the psychological term for having been grossed out by something and then having the irresistible desire to sully others by also showing it to them?

The Goblin score is fantastic. Two dudes haul a cardboard box across an overexposed, unappealing field of grass as Goblin's wonderfully arpeggiating ("Strive After Dark") Classical-style synths have their say.  I like it.

Though there are some notable exceptions, for the most part the film is artfully photographed– probably owing, I believe, to the fact that some 1970s Italo-serio-plagiarists were apparently born missing the brain component which codes 'restraint,' and in its place possessed some grey matter dedicated purely to 'grand aesthetics.'

In the end, it's not an appealing film, nor a particularly engaging one. The title, 'BUIO OMEGA', immediately conjures far more compelling imagery and mystery than the film can possibly deliver. The far more uninteresting 'BEYOND THE DARKNESS' is actually more appropriate because it prepares you for the mediocrity which is to come. This is lower-middle tier Italo Horror, and two and a half stars may be too generous or too harsh depending on which side of the cinematic tracks that you hail from.

And, as a side note, I don't think I ever want to eat stew again, not that I was a big 'stew' fan in the first place, but you know what I mean.

Saturday, October 24, 2009

Film Review: PIECES (1982, Juan Piquer Simón)

Stars: 5 of 5.
Running Time: 89 minutes.
Notable Cast or Crew: Christopher George (Vanna White's uncle, ENTER THE NINJA, THE EXTERMINATOR), Lynda Day George (his wife, CHISUM, DAY OF THE ANIMALS), Edmund Purdom (2019: AFTER THE FALL OF NEW YORK, THE DIARY OF ANNE FRANK), Paul L. Smith (Bluto in Altman's POPEYE, Lynch's DUNE, MIDNIGHT EXPRESS), and Jack Taylor (THE NINTH GATE, CONAN THE BARBARIAN). Written by Joe D'Amato.
Tag-line: "You don't have to go to Texas for a chainsaw massacre..." and "It's exactly what you think it is!!!"
Best one-liner: "Who knows? Right now we're just buying clothes without labels and trying them on for size."

Holy Mother of God- even in the blood, sweat, and Campari-soaked annals of Euro-sleaze cinema, PIECES is truly something special. Directed by unhinged Spaniard Juan Piquer Simón and written by by scuzzy Italo-trashtermind Joe D'Amato, PIECES is a mash-up of giallo traditions, THE TEXAS CHAINSAW MASSACRE, and the All-American Sorority Slasher.



The set-up is genius: a little boy works on a nudie jigsaw puzzle.


Mom bursts in and starts bustin' shit up, screaming "I'll KILL YOU!"

and the kid counters by delivering an axe to her forehead.


The moral: don't mess with an 8 year-old's porn stash. We cut immediately to a gal wrecking her skateboard into a gigantic mirror in slow-mo.

'Why?' you ask? Just don't worry about it.

Then there's murders, black gloves, creepy groundskeepers, badly dubbed screaming, the works. The cops send in Christopher George to investigate. He's doing a whole lot of eyebrow indicating and the like, but who cares, cause so's the entire cast. "Stop calling me Doc, I'm a psychiatrist, NOT A DOCTOR OF MEDICINE!!" Well, actually, you are, but whatever. "You'll be playing so much tennis it'll be coming out of your ears!" Well, let's hope so. "I want you to run a complete check on the staff- full background, in depth- if you have to, use the department's FULL BUDGET!"

Now that strikes me as just plain irresponsible. Anyway, there's sleazy jazz ballet

(I think Castellari's proclivity toward asscrack is outdone by the 'pubes through tights' here- yikes), the killer successfully conceals a chainsaw behind his back in an elevator, and "BASTARRRRD!" is screamed to the heavens (three times). There's more mind-blowing police work ("Take some uppers or something-JUST GET ME A LEAD!") and suspects are deputized ("What the hell, you're practically on the force anyway"). And one scene is too ridiculous to be described, but know that an Asian's erratic behavior is blamed on "Bad chop suey." It builds to a mind-blowing denouement that A. makes no sense, and B. involves bloody balls-grabbing.


Clearly five stars.

But then there's the Spanish-language version. The director's preferred cut. And while the visuals themselves remain the same, we've got a new title and a new soundtrack. The new title, of course, is MIL GRITOS TIENE LA NOCHE– ONE THOUSAND CRIES HAS THE NIGHT. Heavy stuff. But the soundtrack comes out of left field: no longer is there terrible, utterly generic rip-off Goblin, there's a blended, tonal, piano-heavy, emotionally-affecting, Ennio Morricone meets Philip Glass by way of Chopin soundtrack by Librado Pastor. Though the filmmaking itself still remains largely incompetent and laughable, holy shit– this thing has a dark, swirling, driving flow to it. You're not really laughing anymore, per sé, you're held rapt by it. It's still a confusing mess, but it has a tonal flavor and a palpable atmosphere now. I highly recommend watching both versions.

-Sean Gill



2009 Halloween Countdown

31. PROM NIGHT (1980, Paul Lynch)
30. PHENOMENA (1985, Dario Argento)
29. HOUSE OF WAX (1953, André de Toth)
28. SILENT RAGE (1982, Michael Miller)
27. BASKET CASE (1982, Frank Henenlotter)
26. THE DEADLY SPAWN (1983, Douglas McKeown)
25. PELTS (2006, Dario Argento)
24. ANGEL HEART (1987, Alan Parker)
23. KILLER WORKOUT (1986, David A. Prior)
22. FREDDY'S DEAD: THE FINAL NIGHTMARE (1991, Rachel Talalay)
21. THE ABOMINABLE DR. PHIBES (1971, Robert Fuest)
20. FRANKENHOOKER (1990, Frank Henenlotter)
19. HELLRAISER (1987, Clive Barker)
18. GEEK MAGGOT BINGO (1983, Nick Zedd)
17. ALLIGATOR (1980, Lewis Teague)
16. LIZARD IN A WOMAN'S SKIN (1971, Lucio Fulci)
15. THE CARD PLAYER (2004, Dario Argento)
14. SPASMO (1974, Umberto Lenzi)
13. C.H.U.D. (1984, Douglas Cheek)
12. FRIDAY THE 13TH PART III (1982, Steve Miner)
11. SWAMP THING (1982, Wes Craven)
10. DIARY OF THE DEAD (2008, George A. Romero)
9. THE LAIR OF THE WHITE WORM (1988, Ken Russell)
8. PIECES (1982, Juan Piquer Simón)
7.
...