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Deadgirl may very well be the first and only coming of age film ever made to feature rape and borderline necrophilia—which means it’s something that should be right up my alley. No sugary sweet “everything turns out peachy in the end” growing up stories for me… As someone who counts Nacho Cerda’s short film Aftermath amongst his all-time favorite films, Deadgirl should have been a sure thing—a can’t miss film designed solely for the discerning fan of aberrant cinema. In some ways, it’s exactly that. Deadgirl has no shortage of moments and ideas that intrigued me. It’s just unfortunate that each of those moments seems to be countered by others where the film meanders off course. Because of this, Deadgirl is a relatively schizophrenic viewing experience—one filled with bizarre tonal shifts that are more odd than even the admittedly out there subject matter.

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Of all the modern throwback slasher films I’ve seen (and I think I’ve caught almost all of them by this point), Ryan Nicholson’s Gutterballs is the one that most perfectly encapsulates why I love stalk-and-kill movies from that era. Where movies like Hatchet ape the aesthetics of the golden era of slasher movies (while modernizing them in the process), Gutterballs revels in not only the style that defined these films, but the gore, sleaze, and over-the-top excess. To the uninitiated viewer, Gutterballs could very well have been made when Reagan was still president. It’s the kind of flick you expect to see on VHS-in a giant cardboard box with the logo of a company like Wizard or Gorgon on the label.

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If you’re at all like me, you’ve probably spent years wondering why the “dwarfsploitation” subset of exploitation cinema never took off. I mean, we’ve had nunsploitation, Nazi-sexsploitation, blaxploitation, and more other ‘ploitations than you can shake a bloody, nearly naked chick at. How is it that low-budget movies featuring dwarfs didn’t take off? I suspect most of the blame for the dwafsploitation film never becoming an exploitation cinema mainstay can be leveled at one particular movie: 1973′s The Sinful Dwarf.

This is not to say that The Sinful Dwarf lacks charm. In fact, for the discerning sleaze fan, this film is a treasure trove of classic moments. You’ve got dwarf Olaf (Torben Bille), who lives with his mother (an aging cabaret singer, apparently). Together, they run a modest boarding house. When that’s not enough income to make ends meet, they take on a side job-kidnapping girls and turning them into heroin addicted sex slaves in their attic. Men stop by, fulfill their urges, everyone leaves happy (well, except the girls-although, maybe they’re happy too. They do get some heroin…).

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T.F. Mous’ 1987 film Men Behind the Sun (MBtS) is another one of those films that separate the men from the boys. Hardcore gore and exploitation fans tend to use it as a barometer-measuring if you’re a legit fan who knows what he’s talking about based upon whether or not you saw the film, and your reaction to it. It’s another one of those movies that you’re not likely to find at your local Blockbuster-as its subject matter and execution would be far too much for most mainstream audiences to handle. In short, it’s a film that has a reputation for being one of the most brutal visions ever committed to celluloid-and it’s a reputation that’s well deserved.

Based on a true story, MBtS tells the story of Camp 731, a remote Japanese outpost during World War 2. Camp 731 serves several purposes, one being a training ground for a Japanese military youth movement not unlike the Hitler Youth of Nazi Germany. Its other function is to test and study the effectiveness of biological weapons that Japan hoped to develop and use to turn the tide of WWII. When a new general takes over the camp, he brings his sadistic vision and determination with him-using many of the captured Chinese as guinea pigs for his hellacious experiments.

And that pretty much sums up the film-sure, there’s a subplot involving the Japanese youth’s growing disillusionment with the savagery of their commander, but to be honest, it feels tacked on-like something to try and give the film an air of legitimacy in order to make it seem more like art than exploitation. Of course, it doesn’t work-the film is exploitation…and it’s one of the most disturbing films I’ve ever seen.

Mous’ direction isn’t anything spectacular (in fact, some of it’s downright crude, but more on that in a bit), he films the movie in a fairly pedestrian way throughout, only really exerting any effort for the film’s gore sequences-and even those are only made artistic by the fact that he simply refuses to pull away from any gore shot in the film. Still, the film is oddly watchable-which is probably more akin to the fact that it’s like gawking at a bad car accident than an actual film viewing experience. We, as an audience, sit through the banal sequences that are supposed to pass for character development, both nervous and giddy with wonder concerning what we’ll see next. We know we don’t want to see the next instance of Japanese savagery, but somehow, we’re compelled to keep watching anyway. That Mous can make an audience feel this way is his only strong point as a filmmaker.

I’d like to tell you about the cast, because I think some of the actors did an outstanding job, but I can” find a definitive listing of who played who (in fact, you can’t find much of a cast list anywhere I looked-I’m of the impression that very few people have actually seen this film, and that even fewer have written about it). The guy who plays the Japanese general is particularly good-he doesn’t ham it up evilly as the commandants of these kinds of camps are so wont to do in the movies, yet he’s still both menacing, and ultimately, terrifying.

Ok, so you know the story’s pretty simple, the acting isn’t all that important, and Mous’ direction can be described as pedestrian at best…so, where does MBtS get its acclaim from? If you answered “the gore”, give yourself a pat on the back for paying attention. Truly, the gore here is some of the most stomach churning I’ve ever seen (and I’ve seen some gore in my day) but not always in a good way. A Chinese woman is taken out into the snow, has ice water dumped on her arms until they freeze solid, then is taken back inside and has her arms dipped in hot water. When she takes them out, the General pulls the skin and muscle right off. In another sequence, we see a man put into a decompression chamber. The pressure is steadily increased until he shoots his intestines out of his anus-which is gross enough as it is, but gets even more disturbing when you learn that Mous used a real cadaver for the scene…that was a real corpse shooting out real intestine.

Later on, we see a young mute boy lured into the operating theater, drugged, then autopsied while he was still alive. The body here looks incredibly real-and I’ve heard that Mous and crew used a cadaver for this sequence as well, but I haven’t been able to verify that for sure. Still, if it’s not a real autopsy going on, it’s the most gruesome and impressive fake corpse I’ve ever seen.

Yet, while all of the above mentioned things are gross, the following is simply reprehensible. Mous shoots a sequence where we see a room full of starving rats. Literally thousands of these little monsters crawl all over each other, chittering and squeaking madly. Mous then has the General take a healthy housecat and toss it in with the rats. The rats attack the cat, eventually consuming it. What makes the scene so reprehensible is that it wasn’t an FX scene-this was a real cat and real rats, and the cat died a horrible death while Mous recorded it all. I’ve never been an animal rights activist (I’ll worry about what happens to animals when we reach a point where people stop doing cruel and evil things to one another) but this scene really pushes the limits of bad taste. People moan about the turtle scene in Cannibal Holocaust, but at least it died a quick death and was later consumed-unlike this cat. Even worse is that the scene was unnecessary to begin with-it did nothing to advance the plot. It was simply included to add one more gruesome sequence to an already disturbing film.

MBtS is probably still available on video…but be careful when you rent it. I saw a pan and scan dub, and the subtitles were completely unreadable. English subs are always on the bottom of the frame, which is fine when the film is shown in its original aspect ratio. However, when you pan and scan the film to make it fit a television screen, you lose some info from the bottom of the screen-namely the English subtitles. Still, you don’t really need the subs to know what’s going on-you’re not watching for the story anyway.

In the end, I’m not really sure how I feel about Men Behind the Sun. On the one hand, it’s an intense gore film about the real life atrocities that the Japanese committed (atrocities that are often forgotten in the wake of the acts committed by the Nazis, but were no less heinous). On the other hand, it’s an exploitation film that almost goes too far. The cadavers are one thing, but the cat scene takes the film from being a gross movie and moves it into a whole other realm-a realm that I know most filmgoers want nothing to do with. Do I respect T.F. Mous? Not really…either as a filmmaker or a human being. Do I think Men Behind the Sun deserves its status in the exploitation genre? Definitely-it’s an intense and harrowing film. Is it for everyone? No way…most of you should read this review and remember the title so you never make the mistake of subjecting yourself to this film. However, if you’re a gore fan, or an exploitation film lover, then you should track down a copy of this film-if for no other reason than to be able to say you saw it. So, in conclusion, it’s a four star film that I wouldn’t recommend to the faint-hearted. View at your own peril.

Horror Geek Rating: 4 out of 5

By their very nature, exploitation films often get a bad reputation. Since films that fall into the canon tend to debase humanity in order to highlight atrocity and perversion, they’re easy targets for anyone with a political or moral agenda to push. And while few exploitation films can make the claim that they’re also high art (Pasolini’s Salo being perhaps the only exception), some of them do manage to actually weave in some interesting ideas and themes amidst all the violence, nudity, and general depravity (Craven’s Last House on the Left springs to mind here)-and Meir Zarchi’s I Spit on Your Grave would seem to be one of them.

When aspiring novelist Jennifer (Camille Keaton, the niece of Buster Keaton) heads for an isolated cabin in order to work on her first book, she expects to spend a few peaceful months relaxing on the lake, canoeing, and writing. However, when she captures the attentions of four of the locals-the mentally defective Matthew, Johnny, Stanley, and Andy (Richard Pace, Eron Tabor, Anthony Nichols, and Gunther Kleeman respectively) she’s treated to the distinctive mating rituals of the Redneckis Americanus (which includes doing boat wheelies on the lake by her house). The urbane Jennifer is unimpressed by these displays, so our four hillbillies have to resort to plan B-which means dragging her out into the woods and raping her repeatedly. Jennifer survives her attack-and undergoes a transformation, changing from victim to avenger. She then sets out to seek retribution against her attackers.

This is perhaps the most vilified film in all of movie history-a film that sparks controversy almost anytime it’s mentioned. Yet, the most amusing thing about the controversy is that the majority of the film’s detractors have never actually seen the movie (and as a critic, I’m personally of the mind that you actually have to see a movie before you’re qualified to start offering opinions and casting aspersions about it). Yes, this film is an exploitation film-filled with a nearly forty-minute long rape and torture sequence followed by four brutal murders. However, it’s also a film that seems to have something to say about numerous issues-including the whole “city versus the country” thing, the class distinctions between the well off and the poor, and a whole lot about gender issues.

Thematically speaking, this film seems to exist as the outgrowth of films that came prior-most notably Deliverance and Last House on the Left-two films that explored many of the same aforementioned themes and ideas. Abel Ferrara’s brilliant MS. .45 serves as the next evolutionary step, building on the ideas of Zarchi’s film and moving the avenging female out of the forest and into the city. Both Deliverance and LHotL dealt with the ideas of the class struggle (the rich white folks going out into the sticks in one film, the inner city hooligans coming out to where the rich folk lived in the other).

However, not only did I Spit on Your Grave mirror the ideas of those films, it also mirrored the vigilantism that had become popular in Charles Bronson’s Death Wish-except it took that film’s premise and turned it on its ear, making the vigilante not only the direct victim of the violence, but also making her a woman. My fellow writer Chris Bickel points out that the film might be the “ultimate feminist picture”-and while I think that might be stretching it just a bit (I think Ferrara’s film probably deserves that title more than this film-mainly because it always keeps its serious tone) I can also see where the people who think that are coming from. In this day and age where everyone from Oprah to your local politicians are tossing around the word “empowerment” it’s hard to deny that this film features one seriously empowered woman…twenty plus years prior to today.

So, Jennifer endures her attack-the physical assault and the degradation-only to reemerge metamorphosized like the phoenix…reborn as the ‘bitch-goddess-destroyer’. It’s here that the film becomes the ultimate revenge fantasy-with our newly empowered heroine going out and seeking vengeance. In one nice scene that seems to drive this point home, we watch as Jennifer tapes back together the pages she’d written (one of her attackers read them aloud and laughed at them before tearing them up)-it’s as if she;s symbolically putting herself back together, one piece at a time. And while the set-pieces she finds herself in are a bit farfetched, it works-because it becomes clear that these scenarios are little more than the elaborate fantasies of almost any woman who’s been violated.

Still, in spite of all the things you can read into the film, it’s an exploitation flick. Its prime focus isn’t anything as lofty as art, or making a statement on feminism, the human condition, or the class struggle. I’m not even 100% sure that most of those elements were actually intentional (although, they are prominently displayed enough to make one think that they were supposed to be noticed). So, does the film work on an exploitation level? Yes, I think it does.

Zarchi isn’t ever going to be accused of being an auteur, but the filmmaking here is functional and stays well within the boundaries of the exploitation canon. The unpleasantries get a lot of screen time, and while the film isn’t pornographic, it is disturbing. The cast itself is a mixed bag…the rednecks are the stereotypical kind, for the most part-but they do get one strangely telling scene where they talk about life and women while fishing. It’s not really a character development scene, but it does seem to give us a glimpse inside these men’s heads.

The film has that decidedly low-budget feel, which works to its advantage as the movie often resembles a documentary. Add in the fact that the film features very little in the way of music and that feeling is only increased.

The gore here is decent, but nothing Earth shattering. The rape scenes are brutal and seem to go on forever, but the actual murder sequences are over quickly and with a minimum of onscreen carnage. Exploitation fans dig this film for a reason-it’s disturbing and intense-but it’s certainly not for everyone. If full frontal nudity, rape, and implied violence are too much for you to stomach, stay far away from this film.

Ultimately, it seems almost surreal that this little film has garnered so much attention and controversy. In a way, it’s not really good enough to earn the attention. Yes, it’s graphic and brutal, but ultimately, it’s an exploitation film-meaning the low-budget and relatively unknown cast make it a film that wouldn’t have ever even been a blip on the public radar…that is, until the politicians and enforcers of morality complained about it and inspired a lot of interest in the movie. At any rate, it’s definitely a cult classic-not a flawless film, but a logical extension of Deliverance and Last House on the Left, a film that explores some interesting ideas while shocking and repulsing the audience at the same time. For that element alone, I Spit on Your Grave earns a high recommendation from me. Love it or hate it, at least see it before you begin making judgments.

Horror Geek Rating: 5 out of 5

Using the fact that it was banned in its native France, Baise-Moi is a film that continually seeks to cash in on controversy. From the title-which literally translates to ‘Fuck Me’–through to the hardcore sex (with actual penetration in the majority of the scenes), brutal violence, and to the fact that our antiheroes are women, everything here seems designed to cause outrage.

Is it really outrageous though? Most critics would say yes, but I tend to disagree. While the film certainly tries to make itself into more than what it really is by adding some sort of half-assed feminist manifesto to the proceedings, once you get past that and view Baise-Moi as what it truly is-an exploitation flick with pornographic underpinnings-the film becomes much more entertaining. This is feminism from the Ms. 45 and I Spit on Your Grave school of thought-women empowered in the way that men would find interesting instead of any kind of real empowerment at all.

That’s intriguing, since the film was directed by two women-Virginie Despentes and Coralie Trinh Thi (who’s an adult film actress). One would assume that since women were at the helm that at least the feminist ideals would ring true-but they don’t. The main characters of Manu (Raffaela Anderson) and Nadine (Karen Bach) are little more than stylized versions of every man’s fantasy/nightmare-women who like to fuck and are aggressive about it, but likely to kill you instead of cuddle afterwards.

However, unlike Mickey and Mallory (Oliver Stone’s Natural Born Killers), Despentes wants us to believe that Manu and Nadine were made into murderers by the male dominated world around them. Manu is savagely raped, then kills her boyfriend when he’s more concerned with who did it than how she feels. Nadine snaps when her nagging flatmate bitches once too often and her drug addict friend is gunned down in the street. The world of Baise-Moi is a man’s world-until Manu and Nadine decide to turn the tables.

The two meet up through a chance encounter-and take a road trip to the sea. Once Manu reveals her misdeed and Nadine is unfazed by it, and a friendship is formed. From there, the two decide to ‘let rip their motherfucker side’ and go on a murderous rampage that can only end badly.

Anderson and Bach are surprisingly good in the lead roles. Both are adult film stars in Europe (which was a necessity given the amount of hardcore sex in the film), but each does a nice job handling the non-sex scenes as well. Anderson, in particular, is intriguing-she’s got a screen presence that is magnetic and I kept finding myself wanting to know more about her character.

Unfortunately, the script holds the film back. For all its delusions of feminist grandeur, it’s really just a formula exploitation film. Despentes keeps the hardcore sex and violence coming at a fever pitch and tries to cram her commentary and character development into the seven minute breaks between each extreme act. Because of this, neither the characters nor the social commentary is ever developed.

Most critics have been bothered by the hardcore sex and violence. While the sex is fairly extreme-particularly by the puritanical standards of America-the violence is hardly shocking. What many critics have failed to acknowledge is what really bothers them about Baise-Moi is that the sex and violence are so closely linked (there’s a symbiotic relationship between the two makes each seem more tawdry than it would alone-the sex makes the violence seem more brutal, and the violence makes the sex seem more sleazy-it’s one of the few things that the film manages to do brilliantly) and that the antiheroes are women. I can think of a dozen similar films where men were the aggressors and none of them created the same kind of furor as Baise-Moi.

The film itself was shot on digital video, and it’s often grainy. The style is, as my colleague John Nesbit points out, reminiscent of the Dogme films-albeit not as good. I found that the grainy video and amateurish camera work was to the film’s advantage though. In many ways, Baise-Moi has a cinema verite feel to it. I was also often reminded of Man Bites Dog while watching it.

Ultimately, Baise-Moi is a film with a very limited audience. The sex and violence all but guarantee most audiences will walk out in disgust long before the final scene. Because of this, the controversy surrounding the film seems almost necessary-it’s a grand old marketing ploy that plays on the tried and true notion that sex and violence often sell. It’s a shame that the hybridized elements of the film don’t come together in a more cohesive fashion-because if they had, Baise-Moi could have been a landmark film. Instead, it’s a decent exploitation flick that’s full of sound and fury, but often signifies nothing.

Horror Geek Rating: 4 out of 5