Seed

Consider for a moment what it must be like to be Uwe Boll. Somewhere, perhaps in those places that Jack Nicholson said 'you don't talk about at parties', Boll knows that David Lean had head lice as a child that had more talent for film making than him. Gore Whores, metal-heads and the socially dysfunctional may bump into him on the circuit and tell him otherwise but general audiences find the Teutonic helmsman's output so bereft of originality, wit or imagination that he's become the internet's bogeyman – an online discursive synonym for photochemical excrement. Boll does his best to ride over these naysayers, exploiting tax credits available in Germany and Canada to keep working and raising money from a network of dentists as Zero Mostel did with old ladies in The Producers. The difference being that Mostel's character knew he was making bowel fill. Maybe Uwe knows it too.

Such is the level of hostility toward each new 'Bollbuster' that IMDb patrons sabotage their ratings by voting 1 before they've seen it. Boll's attempts at silencing his critics by challenging them to a boxing match and knocking them out just made them more determined. Indeed he's probably the only filmmaker that's boosted thesaurus sales as critics search for inventive ways of describing garbage.

This onslaught has made Uwe a very thick skinned man, so much so that he must feel like he's wrapped in a carpet, but one who feels as if he's bullied by the entire world. Like most people in that situation he lashes out, determined to upset as many people as possible with the memory of a tearful evening holding Variety's review of House of the Dead, never too far from the surface. This 'I know you are but what am I' strategy for reclaiming the initiative produced the blunt satire of Postal, which attempted to napalm the dissenters with jokes about 9/11, Christian fundamentalism, Jihad, Nazism and paedophilia. Such a litany of invective requires a satirist with the mind of Peter Cook and the visual imagination of Chris Morris but the closest Boll gets to either man is the o in their surname.

In Seed, shot back to back with the aforementioned game adaptation, Boll is back with a story about a sadistic serial murderer (is there any other kind?) who gets the chair only for two attempts to fail in permanently curtailing all signs of life. Mindful of the fictional law that says anyone still alive after 3 attempts must go free, though if you'd been fried with that much electricity why would you want to, they pronounce him legally dead and bury him, only for the disgruntled killer to resurface and begin a whirlwind tour of his gaolers.

Boll begins his 'exploration of nihilistic rage' with Seed watching footage of animals being tortured for experimental purposes. From there we're treated to the killer's stock in trade – kidnapping dogs, babies and grown women and allowing them to starve to death on camera only to become maggot food. We're invited to reflect on what a depraved race of amoral meat sacks we all are – our inhumanity to each other and our fellow creatures acting as a lighting rod that acts as a catalyst for the most disgusting vestiges of the human condition. Yes, we're worthless, gormless sadists and worse than that, we won't give Uwe a good rating on the IMDb. In short, humanity is bunk.

Of course you might think that Uwe relies on our worst excesses for his livelihood and with that in mind it's a bit of a bipolar piece, on one hand hating its audience and positively basting itself in the sour milk of human kindness – the milk that poor old Boll has had to drink for so long, while simultaneously whipping out its member and inviting those with a pornographic lust for on screen depravity to marvel at its sheer arse splitting girth.

The result says nothing about society and its discontents, more the corrosive effect bad press is having on its director. Poor Uwe is obviously a very angry man – one scene in which a poor woman gets her brains hammered to a pulp while tied to a chair, no doubt a surrogate for his own fantasy's about dispatching various web critics. That it's there but takes an avant-garde approach by failing to be attached to any kind of narrative thread, shows that Boll is a pornographer whose happy to engage with the blood lust of his audience and knows that plot is surplus to requirements. He's made a film which is competently shot but utterly desolate. "I wanted to make a horror movie that was no fun" Boll told the audience at the film's world premiere and he has, on that flimsy manifesto, succeeded but if this was supposed to convince the director's detractors that he was a serious genre filmmaker, he'll need something genuine to say as well as a better, more original way of saying it.

what a waste of time! i do like horrors but this one is just no good. only thing thats OK is the suspense sounds and music...special effects and sounds when body parts brake is OK. The movie is also way to dark, and it's the wrong sort of violence! there is no story telling! even a 2.8 is to much for this! PLEASE, do not make any more of these! Hopefully the votes are enough to keep people from making this! Was there any type casting involved btw? Hope not..

If u need some pointers, just let me know.. Or watch some European movies first. Like 'rec'for instance..

thanks for trying

Ever since House of the Dead, I've actively sought out Uwe Boll films to see just how bad they are going to be. With follow-ups Alone in the Dark and Bloodrayne, there was an endless stream of badness to enjoy. I'm intrigued as to how the films fail to work despite there being a decent budget (low in Hollywood terms, but plenty to produce something effective), some occasional attempts at interesting camera work and genuine Hollywood talent involved. In all the films, the scripts are undeniably terrible, and as an audience you're never drawn in because at no stage do you care about anyone involved or anything they do. On top of the poor script, there is usually CGI and sound design that is quite simply not up to scratch and which therefore jars with an audience used to Hollywood standards.

It was with this view that i went along for the unmissable fun of a cinematic double bill of new Uwe Boll films at London's Frightfest. Having had Grindhouse pulled from UK release thanks to the bemused US reaction, 'Double Boll' presented the next best thing - 2 actual B- movies in a row. Postal came first and marks Boll's first professional foray into deliberate comedy, not very successfully, but that's another review... Up second, was Seed - as Uwe himself said, a film aiming for no sense of fun at all. It's essentially Uwe's entry into the current gorno/torture porn fad, and was partly motivated by the likes of Hostel not being as harsh as they were claiming.

The biggest shock i had during the film was when the credits rolled and i realised i'd just had an emotional reaction to an Uwe Boll movie that wasn't amusement or boredom. I had actually cared about the characters and had the distinct feeling i'd just watched a proper horror film.

Don't get me wrong, this film is by no means great, but it IS, unlike all the other Boll movies, a film that you can watch on a par with other Hollywood b-grade horrors. With films like Hostel you've got Eli Roth trying to make films as harsh as the old grindhouse/video nasty films of the 70s and early 80s, but Seed would actually be more at home in that era. It's no Texas Chainsaw, but it fits in with the original Toolbox Murders, Maniac or Nightmares in a Damaged Brain - films that presented real nastiness in a way that leaves you feeling, well, seedy. Like those films, the big moments are morally questionable - many will find the opening scenes showing real-life animal cruelty (footage obtained from PETA) too heavy with too little purpose, but personally I found they gave the film real edge - you lose your safety net of Hollywood R-rated violence and feel genuine revulsion. A later scene is a standout for on-screen nastiness and could have become one of the all time roughest gore moments if it wasn't partly let down by a bit of ropey CGI work. The ending too was a nice surprise and something that mainstream horrors rarely go for these days.

Boll-haters (and there's a planet full of those) are still going to find faults with Seed, and there are many, but it is in a class above all his previous output, and gives me hope that he will one day turn around his (undeniably impressive) poor reputation and produce material that is not only acceptable, but actually genuinely enjoyable. If he could just get his hands on a really great script who knows what could happen...

While Uwe Boll is a terrible technician this movie, like many of his others, has an amazing take home message and awesome aesthetic. I always feel that I could shoot this on my black magic. Yet you cannot underestimate how in touch he is with contemporary feelings.

Short Version: Seed isn't worthless. It's just derivative and inferior. And soulless.

Long Version: If you have never seen any of the films comprising the vaguely-defined "psychological horror" genre, this movie will probably melt your face off. Maybe not, but it will give you a good burn. The opening montage of real animal abuse will be sufficient to open your eyes to possibilities of brutality-on-video, and the (only) memorable gore scene later in the film will perhaps be more than you can handle. The climax will play with your emotions in a way that perhaps no other film has.

But that's if you don't have much experience with the genre. If you've seen the real thing..."August Underground's Penance," for example, you will, as I did, find it terribly difficult to stay awake until the end of the film.

Other reviewers have compared this to the video nasties of old. I understand this comparison. Like the video nasties, "Seed" is more violent than a mainstream horror film and less subtle. But the reason the video nasties are still known to us is not only for the above reasons--those that are still popular had something special. Permit me to be ambiguous, I think you will understand: those that have stuck around had "soul".

Take this quote from Gabriele Crisanti, director of "Burial Ground," on an interview on the new-ish DVD: "...we will never have more films like these, because today, technology has surpassed imagination. And technology is cold. So many things will disappear because small films like these won't be produced anymore. Today we have great, exceptional tricks that are very expensive, but they are cold. Today a horror, a terror film of this kind costs more than a million dollars. These films were not so expensive...they are real effects, made with our hands".

Perhaps it is wrong to take the comparison to old school horror so seriously. But Crisanti has hit the nail on the head. Even at their most seemingly exploitational, the best of the video nasties were pursuing a primitive "truth." And this is where Boll falls short. It's like he's seen the movies and not understood them. Everything on the checklist is there...BS about "making a statement about humanity," an obscene torture scene, etc. But it is, as Crisanti puts it, "cold." The gore is all CGI. The whole thing feels like scenes pieced together from other movies of various genres. And the pacing is sooooo slow. Man, so slow.

Another interesting note: the one gore scene really reminded me of a video game.

Anyway, enough BS. Weak movie.