Don’t Torture a Duckling

Don’t Torture a Duckling

Original title: Non si sevizia un paperino

Directed by: Lucio Fulci

Thriller/horror, 1972

Italy, 98min

Distributed by: Shameless Films

I won’t start this with a rant on how Lucio Fulci made so much more than the classic video nasty’s he’s infamous for.  I’m quite convinced that anyone who really bears a passion for the works of the late master of genre, will already have ventured back past those seminal works and discovered the real masterpieces of suspense and thrill, hidden away in his back catalogue. If you haven’t seen the movie, I’d recommend that you first check it out before we get into this, as certain spoilers are featured in this text. If you know the movie, then buckle up and let’s go.

I’ve already covered some of the early pre-Gialli thrillers such as Una sull’altra (One on Top of the Other) 1969, Sette note in nero (The Psychic) 1977, and even a couple of the comedic works such as All’onorevole piaccino le donne (The Senator Prefers Woman) 1972, Il cav. Constante Nicosia demoniac, ovvero: Dracula in Brianza (Young Dracula) 1975, and even a few of the Spaghetti Westerns; Le colt cantarono le morte e fu… tempo du massacre (Massacre Time) 1966 and I quattro dell’apocalisse (Four of the Apocalypse) 1975. It’s time to take a look at the bookend movie of the early thriller trilogy, Non si sevizia un paperino (Don’t Torture a Ducking). On one of the greats from his early period, one of those movies where he was started to perfect the themes that would make him a god amongst fans of genre cinema in the years to come.

In a small rural village, someone is murdering young pre-adolescent boys. The Carabinieri are stood almost helpless as they have a hand full of suspects ranging from the village idiot, to the witch who roams the landside, to the shaman who taught her his magic. A curious journalist arrives in the village and together with a somewhat strange choice of companion, starts to poke around the case, coming to a shocking conclusion about the killer’s identity.

I often talk about setting tone as early as possible… Well try this on for size: a woman [Florinda Bolkan] claws at the dirt under a motorway overlay. Her thin soiled and bloodied fingers produce the skeleton of an infant from a shallow grave in the dirt. A young boy (Tonino) shoot’s a stone from his slingshot that upon impact crushes the small lizard he was aiming at whist he sits keeping lookout for a specific car to swoosh by. Editor Ornella Micheli (Fulci’s frequent editor before Vincenzo Tomassi made his entrance) rapidly establishes the small village with a series of fast edits to the diegetic sound of church bells ringing. We enter a church in mass, were two young boys  (Bruno and Michele) sneak out to share a gauloise under the same overlay we saw earlier. Tonino comes running towards them whilst screaming, “They’re here, they’re here” and the trio run off to a shack, where some blokes greet the two prostitutes who have exited their car. The women have  “tits like water melons” in the excited boys’ opinions – but the village idiot Giuseppe wrecks their intended session of sordid voyeurism. Instead they turn their attention on him and start verbally bullying him, as he too was planning to watch the two men shag the prostitutes. As they boys taunt Giuseppe, he screams that he will get they, he will get them…

Potent stuff, and definitely an impressive couple of minutes which accompanied by Riz Ortolani’s short but harsh stinger cues, establishes a lot of stuff, which will come to play within the movies narrative later on. But be alert, those moments establish more than you could ever have guessed. The location is set, a small rural village, where the church is the centre of the town. The crazy woman – Florinda Bolkan’s is presented, and we understand that there’s a dark secret in her past. We learn that the kids are adolescent young men with a budding curiosity of the opposite sex. But they are still kids and can easily turn from their sexual curiosity to a taunting mob, which evokes fear in those they decide to single out. In the subtext we can assume that sex is something sacred and kept within the confinement of the family unit. This can be presumed as the village is most likely a stern follower of catholic values, and the men take their “imported” prostitutes to a shack outside of the village vicinity. But it’s not all presumptions, this is all true, and will give you a rush of insight upon the conclusion of the film.

If you know your Fulci, then you know that he enjoyed giving the church a kick in the ass on any given moment. My theory is that it's due to the tragic events in his personal life. I can’t really see a creative person being a devout follower of religion, when that religion takes away loved ones. Somewhere that bitterness has to vent, and I’m saying that the way Fulci aimed critique towards the clergy was one of them.

There’s a delightful irony that motivates the murders and definitely a provocative one in more than one way. The village priest, Don Avalone [Marc Porel], is the murderer of the piece, and it’s not only a stern poke at the church, but it also presents a delightful dilemma as one can in some strange way empathize with what Don Avalone is trying to do. In his complex state, his philosophy is to kill the yearning young lads as to protect them from committing sin, hence allowing them to enter heaven instead of the burning pits of hell. I’m a sucker for the moral twists of doing bad, for doing good, and Fulci nails this one on the head. Then he makes the priest – or the clergy in the larger picture – pay a most terrible and harrowing death as he has his face torn to pieces against the rock walls, before breaking every body in his bone when he smashes into the hard rock below. If there was one thing Fulci could do, it was provoke.

But perhaps the most provocative moment of the movie is found early on when Barbara Bouchet’s character Patrizia, who oddly enough rents a penthouse flat above the Spriano family, reveals herself as a paedophile! Now this isn’t a Feliniesque moment like the opening one, where the lads merely want to catch a glimpse of the prostitutes “tits like melons”. This is a raw, confrontational, full on flirtation where the fully naked Patrizia invites Michele to go to bed with her. If not for being saved by his mother who calls him back to the first floor. Patrizia, talk about a complex character, and it’s later revealed that she not only has an appetite for young boys, but she’s a recouping Junkie too…  Not that this was the first time Fulci, used paedophilia to provoke, it plays a vital part in the narrative of Beatrice Cenci 1969 too, where both Tomas Milian and Georges Wilson are part of the cast. Fulci, no stranger to getting in trouble with the law – i.e. the puppet dog incident following Una Lucertola con la pelle di donna (Lizard in a Woman’s Skin) 1971 – once again ended up facing another trial when the scene where the naked Bouchet takes to seducing Michele caused a stir. Always the one with an ace up his sleeve, Fulci presented the "little person" Don Semeraro (who almost thirty years later stared in Joe D’Amato’s The Hobgoblin) who had been the stand in for the child actor, and the case was dismissed.

So how does this come together with the opening montage? Well basically Florinda Bolkan’s Macaria character is insane the whole time. Yes, she performs her voodoo-like ritual with the three dolls in the images of the three taunting kids – I told you they where trouble, and they disturbed the grave of her child, hence forcing her to move the dead baby from it’s resting place and have her perform her mumbo jumbo voodoo vengeance. But that’s merely a red herring to toss you off track, just as the trail of village idiot Giuseppe [Vito Passeri] is too. Barbara Bouchet is a red herring too, despite her wonderfully complex character. The church and the whole Catholic Church bit is all about Don Alberto’s modus operandi. Yes, there is a veil of Catholic values draped over the town, and to save the children from corruption – which we see they are on the way to being with the smoking and desire to peek at prostitutes, and possibly masturbate at the same time – Don Alberto saves their souls by murdering them. Then in the last moments of the movie, good Old Catholic guilt comes over him and he takes his own life… ironically as suicide damns the deceased to an eternity in purgatory.

There’s an interesting use of the off-screen space in Don't Torture a Duckling. At first several characters are isolated out  there, the killer, and at least two pairs of hands tampering with the voodoo dolls. The off-screen space had been a safe haven for murderers to lurk around in since Powell’s Peeping Tom and Hitchcock’s Psycho, both 1960, and a genre-defining trait when it came to the Giallo. What Fulci does is use it wisely; he keeps the characters in the off-screen space until he needs to reimburse them into the narrative. Such as when we need to introduce a second red herring, and Bolkan’s character finally comes into frame after tampering with the voodoo dolls off screen since the opening.

It’s said that Don’t Torture a Duckling was Lucio Fulci’s personal favorite amongst his films, well looking at the movie from a retrospective angle, it all rings true, in some way’s the movie is more a piece of Neorealism, with a smidgeon of thriller traits added. It’s definitely the Fulci movie that lies closest to Neorealism, and it is a fair interpretation, which possibly could explain why he was so fond of this little obscure gem. Considering that Neorealism is the big Italian contribution to film history, one can understand his fondness for the film.  With the knowledge that Don’t Torture a Duckling was Lucio’s favourite film, this could explain the reason why he later used several key moments –and beats - from this movie in his later more typical horror films.

Chains whipped against a tender frame of human flesh, creating deep gory gashes, which you all know and love from the “You ungodly warlock” opening of  …E tu vivrai nel terrore! L’alidià (The Beyond) 1981, when a band of villager’s once again take vigilante justice into their own hands. A face being smashing against side of mountain as character plumages to death and presents insightful inner dialogue at the same time, much like the opening visions that torment Jennifer O’Neil in The Psychic. Amusingly enough the film also features a first poke at Disney and primarily Donald Duck. A Donald Duck doll is decapitated and it’s torso dragged around. Originally Fulci wanted the movie to be titled Don’t torture Donald Duck, but when Disney protested, the title was changed. Exactly ten years later the killer of Lo squartore di New York (The New York Ripper) 1982 would disguise his voice and talk like Donald Duck, and Fulci finally got his poke at the cooperate suits of Disney Co.

Don’t Torture a Duckling really is an “all comes together” flick in so many ways. Fulci has an amazing cast, several of which he’d worked previously or would work with again; Florinda Bolkan, Tomas Milian, Marc Porel and Georges Wilson. Not forgetting one-offers like Irene Papas, despite holding a rather small part, and Barbara Bouchet, who delivers a great performance here. Keeping that tight Fulci grip on those he enjoyed working with, the maestro delivers a movie with a water tight script, penned by Fulci, Gianfranco Clerici and Roberto Gianviti (who wrote a stunning twelve screenplays together with Fulci through the years), editing is superb and definitely amongst the best of the eighteen flicks Ornella Micheli cut for Lucio, and without saying, Sergio D’Offizi. Damn, the more I see of this man’s work the more it becomes a mystery to me why he never landed an international career like, say Vittorio Storaro. At least give the man an honorary award because, some stuff like Don’t Torture a Duckling and not forgetting the innovative “found footage” approach of Deodato’s Cannibal Holocaust 1980, is all D’Ofizzi. Someone give credit where it’s due!

Riz Ortolani’s score, which is pretty tender at times, has a short moment that fan’s of the Cannibal Holocaust soundtrack will recognize. Not that it’s a complete tune or anything like that, but there’s a small build which Ortolani later used on Cannibal Holocaust and if you know that soundtrack you will find it. Following the violent beating of Florinda Bolkan one can hear the song Quei giorni insieme a te, performed by the domestically renown Ornella Vanoni. It’s a delicate piece written by Ortolani and Jaja Fiastri which definitely set’s a sentimental mood for Bolkan’s dying moment… but just wait for a moment, things are about to get kinda strange here. I’m more curious about the funky shit-kicker Crazy, here performed by Wess and the Airedales, the same funky ass shakers that played on stage in Umberto Lenzi’s Orgasmo 1969 and Paranoia 1970. The same version of Crazy (originally written by Armando Trovalioli), which is heard on the soundtrack to Dino Risi’s Vero Nudo 1969… Now take a guess who wrote the screenplay to Vero Nudo? Jaja Fiastri, the same who wrote Quei giorni insieme a te with Riz Ortolani. Just another reason why I love Italian genre, it’s all interwoven and connected to and fro for all eternity through captivating intertext.

Unlike other releases, Shameless have given the movie a release with the original Italian soundtrack, and an optional English Dub. Now I do find that these movies are more fun with the English dub, but I also prefer to be able to watch them with the original language option. Thanks to Shameless, that’s now an alternative. If you watch one version of Lucio Fulci’s somewhat overlooked masterpiece Don’t Torture a Duckling, then make sure it’s the Shameless Films Version.

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.