Here's a random list of things I love. Dismemberment. Cannibalism. Necrophilia. Blood. Incest. Violence. Bad language. Body horror. Vomiting. Any form of discomfort whatsoever. I'm not too fond of rape or anything to do with the eyes, but I think that's probably normal. Don't worry, I'm not a serial killer and I shouldn't be locked up. This isn't a list of things I like to do on a Sunday after I've taken the dog out for a walk (note that animal cruelty isn't on there). No, you'll find all of these things and more in one of my favourite genres, Extreme Cinema. If they float your boat too, read on. If they don't, let me try and explain.
Being dutiful to a genre solely devoted to the hardest
hitting films on the planet is difficult to rationalize. It’s not something I
tend to bring up at family get-togethers, and I probably wouldn’t mention it on
a first date, but there will obviously come a time when I have to explain why
the closest film to a love story in my collection is Takashi Miike’s Audition
(1999). Preferably before we sit down and watch it. I hate pausing movies.
Makes me want to hurt things.
Still, I tend to argue that life is badly overrated. All it
consists of is work, rain, excrement, family, brushing teeth, dust, rubbish
drivers and trying to work out which bit of plastic goes in which coloured box.
It’s little wonder I find comfort in escapism, put at ease by watching fates
worse than my own. Bullied at work? You’re hardly going to hack off your arm,
attach a machine gun to it and get even. Children annoying you? Social Services
may have something to say if you pack up its belongings and send the blighter
to a small island to play with other annoying whippersnappers, watching the
bloody events unfold on your gogglebox for the next fortnight. But then, I’m
pretty sure Davina McCall has done okay out of it.
Maybe it’s just me who craves an irregular escape from the
mundane. I guess it’s because I’m not really a people person. I strongly
believe that hell is other people. Shove me between two pregnant women at a
house party and I’ll stare at their oversized bellies, nod to their inane
chatter about cravings and Loose Women before coming out with a line like,
“What would you do if it was disabled?” But, considering the genre’s resurgence
and success, I’m probably not the only one. And, as luck would have it, there’s
probably a director out there who’s already answered that question for me, in
all its gory detail. Home Alone (1990) doesn’t count.
So, where did all this anger and hate on film come from? To
be honest, it’s always been there. In 1932, a beautiful trapeze artist agreed
to marry the leader of a group of side-show performers, but his deformed
friends quickly realised that she was only marrying him for his inheritance.
The film, Tod Browning’s Freaks, shocked audiences who didn’t agree with his
thinking. Sideshow freaks were not the norm. They didn’t demand respect rather
than pity. They were, quite simply, freaks. But boundaries were beginning to be
pushed. It may not have the same shock value today, but there’s no question it
was the first horror to horrify rather than terrify. Browning’s career was
pretty much finished, and most of its stars distanced themselves from the
movie, so if you haven’t already tracked it down you’ll probably need very
little persuading to do so.
The horror genre was deteriorating by the end of the
thirties, while the early forties would see cinema goers far more preoccupied
with real terrors that confronted them during World War 2. And then, in
hindsight, it’s hardly surprising that science fiction – we were on the
threshold of space travel – took centre stage in the fifties, even if there
were signs of a horror revival by the end of it.
The next movie to truly shock audiences was Alfred
Hitchcock’s Psycho (1960). These days it’s difficult to imagine the effect his
‘shower scene’ had on its viewers, but a stinging musical score and the brutal
slashing of Janet Leigh, one of the biggest stars of its day, did more than
enough to unsettle the viewer, with or without the impact of Hitchcock’s
visuals. Infra-red camera pictures of an audience’s reactions can be found online,
clearly indicating a certain amount of fear, while many chose to block the
sound out with their hands. They’re worth checking out. As is Michael Powell’s
Peeping Tom, following a young man who murders women, using a movie camera to
film their dying expressions. The film, released the same year as Psycho,
achieved a similar reaction, but it wasn’t long before subtle plotting was
replaced by gore, and born from its bloody womb was what most people would
consider to be the first kin of extreme cinema.
Lucio Fulci, as controversial in death as he was in life,
indulged the blood-thirsty amongst us during the late Seventies and Eighties,
daring to challenge the master of Italian terror, Dario Argento. Zombie Flesh
Eaters (1979), City Of The Living Dead (1980), The Beyond (1981) and The House
By The Cemetery, also that year, kick-started a frantic career with all the
eye-gouging, throat-ripping splatter you could dream of. Beset with personal
problems during the mid-eighties, Fulci would never reach these heights again,
even if the autobiographical Nightmare Concert (1990), starring himself, would
become one of his most critically acclaimed. A diabetic, he died seven years
later in suspicious circumstances, forgetting to take his insulin before
retiring to bed. Some consider it suicide, others an accident, but it was
certainly a tragedy. If he was still alive today would he be considered greater
than Argento?
Born in Rome to a family already consumed by the visual
arts, Dario Argento began his glittering career with The Bird With The Crystal
Plumage (1970). More thriller than killer, he soon shifted into sexually
graphic and violently bloody territory with films The Cat O’Nine Tails, Four
Flies On Grey Velvet (both 1971) and Deep Red (1975). Suspiria (1977) would
bring him the cult status he yearned for, and arguably influenced the modern
splatter that was quick to follow in his rather large, not to mention bloody,
footsteps.
Behind him, ready to challenge our sensibilities further
with exploding heads and phallic armpit growths was David Cronenberg. Shivers
(1975), Rabid (1977) and The Brood (1979) – a personal favourite – leaned
towards the intelligent side of extreme cinema, focusing on a society under
threat from moral decay. His success continued with classics Scanners (1981),
Videodrome (1983) and the skin-crawlingly nasty The Fly (1986).
Dead Ringers (1988) proved that the man from Toronto showed
little sign of slowing down, but it was his adaptation of J.G. Ballard’s Crash
in 1996 that would prove to be his most controversial movie to date. It’s hard
to justify watching a movie in which a TV director (James Spader) discovers an
underground sub-culture of scarred, car-crash victims who use car accidents to
get their sexual kicks. The result, having sex with open wounds, is one of the
hardest things I’ve had to endure on the screen, and I’ve seen a lot of the
weird stuff. But then, I haven’t watched it in a long time, and I’ve surely
become even more desensitized. I’d probably start laughing at the absurdity of
it all, copying the link from Youtube before pasting it onto my mum’s Facebook
wall, sandwiched between the evolution of dance and Fenton the dog.
Other notable entries worthy of your attention are Peter
Jackson’s dizzying bloodbath Braindead (1992); Ruggero Deodato’s Cannibal
Holocaust (1979), one of the first films that attempted to kid the viewer into
thinking they were watching lost documentary footage (now you know who to
blame); George A. Romero’s Dawn Of The Dead (1978), the second segment of his
zombie-thon; Sam Raimi’s The Evil Dead (1982), doing what he does best; Stuart
Gordon’s hilariously distasteful Re-Animator (1985) and Tobe Hooper’s classic
The Texas Chainsaw Massacre (1974), for which you should accept no imitations.
The late nineties saw a slasher boom thanks in no small part to Wes Craven’s Scream (1996), while clever slow-burners The Sixth Sense and The Blair Witch Project in 1999 dragged the dying horror genre back from the brink. At the turn of the century came the Asian explosion (already gaining momentum thanks to Hideo Nakata’s masterful Ringu in 1997) and from the wreckage crawled torture-porn, with pretty much every country around the globe stepping forward for a share of the spoils. To these weary eyes, already forced to endure the likes of Rabid Grannies (1988), Fertilize The Blaspheming Bombshell (1990) and Teenage Catgirls In Heat (1993), it was all too much. Nevertheless, I persevered, and to be honest I was spoiled. You can keep your Fulci, Argento and Cronenberg; everything about the 21st century oozed menace, and I couldn’t get enough of it.
Two films that made the biggest impact at the start of the
new millennium were Takashi Miike’s Audition (1999) and Kinji Fukasaku’s Battle
Royale (2000), but more on those gems later. The West had to endure remake
after unnecessary remake as horror became fashionable, but alongside so many
turkeys were a number of movies to keep exploitation fans deliriously happy.
Cabin Fever (2003), The Devil’s Rejects (2004), Hostel (2005) and Saw (2003)
were impressive, as was the Australian Wolf Creek (2004), but nothing could
prepare us for what France had in store.
A country that at one time seduced travellers with its
culture, café terraces, village-square markets and bistros woke up one morning
and decided to go on a bender, kidnapping its visitors and slaughtering them
with eye-popping glee. Part-Belgian The Ordeal (2003), Switchblade Romance
(2003), Them (2006), Frontier(s) (2007), Inside (2007), Mutants (2009) and The
Pack (2010) are the most laudable entries, but Martyrs (2008) wins hands down.
Directed by Pascal Laugier, the film tells how a woman's quest for revenge
against the people who kidnapped and tormented her as a child leads her on a
terrifying journey into a living hell of depravity – one of the most mental
movies I have seen in a long time.
If those aren’t enough to turn the stomach you’ll be pleased
to know that cannibalism also made a much welcome return to the menu. Dumplings
(2004) and the implausible but mightily impressive Macabre (2009) are main
courses that should be savoured by all, while Meat Grinder (2009) and We Are
What We Are (2010) relied more on mood rather than over the top visuals, but
still had enough filling to leave you feeling slightly worse for wear.
Severance (2005), Donkey Punch (2008), Mum & Dad (2008) and Eden Lake (2008) proved that British exploitation was still alive and well, while the Rec franchise (2006, 2009 and 2012) kept Spain in the running (or should that just be running?), even if the chills were gradually replaced by ever-thickening bloodshed (am I really complaining?). Another worthwhile trilogy, started by Roar Uthaug’s slasher Cold Prey (2006), offered the welcome sight of blood-spattered snowscapes, and Tommy Wirkola’s Dead Snow (2008) delivered Nazi-zombies in Norway; a grisly but wounded movie, injected with humour, gore and brilliant set-pieces, but only if you survive the banality of the opening twenty minutes.
In America, women were being further exploited in Teeth
(2007), Dead Girl (2008) and The Woman (2011). The latter, brutal from the
outset, includes some astonishing performances and a final act that pushed the
boundaries and all the right buttons – Takashi Miike’s wet dream. But wait a
minute. I almost have to pinch myself. All of these films and I’ve barely
mentioned Japan during the noughties. Miike, born in the small town of Yao on
the outskirts of Osaka, is best known for making explicit films with taboo
representations of violence and sex, as seen in such works as Audition (1999),
Visitor Q (2001), Ichi the Killer (2001) and the Dead or Alive Trilogy. Some of
his other work - The Happiness Of The Katakuris (2001), Zebraman (2004), 13
Assassins (2010) – isn’t bad either.
Takashi Ishii’s Freezer (2000) and Sion Sono’s Suicide Club
(2001) demand attention, but if it’s all-out gore that you’re after, look no
further than the works of Sushi Typhoon. Tokyo Gore Police (2008), Robo-geisha
(2009) and Vampire Girl Vs Frankenstein Girl (2000) are nonsensical but fun;
perfect appetisers for the creatively juicy revenge-flick The Machine Girl
(2008) from director Noboru Iguchi. More engaging then most splatter-fests, if
you haven't already, you really need to witness this hilariously distasteful,
gory masterpiece. After that, Dog Bite Dog (2006), Gong Tau (2007) and Dream
House (2010) from Hong Kong should be savoured, and South Korea chips in with
Nowehere To Hide (1999), the outstanding Old Boy (2003) and Jee-woon Kim’s I
Saw The Devil (2010).
So, what have we learnt so far? The simple fact is this:
Extreme cinema pushes boundaries. Hard to categorise, at the very least it
glamorises violence in graphic detail. At times it presents the audience with
little more than unrelenting humiliation, brutality and suffering. However, in
my opinion, you can shove your cheaply made, obscure films with their buckets
of blood, oversexed imagery and slapstick violence (there are bad movies and
there are Troma movies) where the sun doesn’t shine, because extreme cinema is
at its best when it actually has a message.
Guts Of A Virgin (1986), in which a film crew making a porn film are dismembered by a demon in a warehouse, and Stop The Bitch Campaign (2001), about a man humiliating teenage prostitutes to get them off the streets, push the boundaries too far in the wrong direction. I’m sure they’re fun, and every now and again I like my horror to be completely bonkers, but the very best movies from this genre are those that don’t actually dwell on graphic scenes of murder, rape, castration and cannibalism. They include them, for sure, but instead, the director offers insight into human nature rather than yet another close-up of someone’s bludgeoned body as a monkey and giraffe abuse it with a pineapple.
UK EXTREME CINEMA DISTRIBUTORS
Palisades Tartan
Palisades Tartan is a US and UK film Distribution Company
founded by US-based Palisades Media Group to take over the film library of
Tartan Films after it folded in Summer 2008, notable for distributing East
Asian films, especially those in the horror and thriller genres, under the
brand Tartan Asia Extreme. Titles include Audition, Nowhere To Hide and Visitor
Q.
Cine Du Monde
An exciting new label set up by several industry veterans –
collectively bringing over 50 years of experience to the table in the areas of
acquisitions, production, sales and distribution. They aim to bring to UK homes
“Left-of-Centre Cinema” from Around the World, focusing on interesting,
overlooked or forgotten films that reflect the vast world of cinema not
encapsulated by mainstream new releases. Recent releaes have included Suicide
Club and Yakuza Hunters.
4 Digital Media
They are one of the UK's leading truly independent DVD
distributors with an eclectic, cutting edge feature film catalogue and deliver
great value and extraordinary home entertainment. 4Digital Asia is a sub-label
specialising in Asian “cult” live action films in their original language with
English subtitles. The catalogue includes favourites Tokyo Gore Police, Death
Tube, Meat Grinder and Samurai Princess.
Arrow Films
Arrow Films is one of the UK's leading independent
distributors of world cinema, art-house, horror and classic films. For over 15
years Arrow Films has pioneered the best directors from Europe and around the
world. Arrow Video is a specialist label that encapsulates the spirit of the
video nasties of the 1980s, including retro-style artwork and posters. This
label includes films by renowned horror directors George A. Romero, Lucio
Fulci, Lamberto Bava and Dario Argento. Their catalogue includes Battle Royale,
Day Of The Dead, Demons and Tenebrae.
There are others too, and many other wonderful films I’ve no
doubt forgot to mention, but it’s probably not a bad start. By the end you’ll
probably want to whack something cheery on for the other half. But then, if
your partner is still sitting there beside you, you’ve either found the perfect
soul mate or they’re dead, and we won’t go into that. Before I go, can I ask
you to add other recommendations in the comments box below? I’m always open to
even wilder entries, as I’m sure other readers will be too. For now though,
I’ll leave you with my top five. Embrace the madness, and remember, it wasn’t
your fault, it was just the bottle you wanted.
How far is too far? There’s no point asking Lars von Trier.
Anyone who has watched one of his movies will understand that he does whatever
the hell he wants. Speaking of hell, Willem Dafoe and Charlotte Gainsbourg play
a grieving couple who retreat to Eden, an isolated cabin in the woods, where
they hope to repair their broken hearts and troubled marriage after the death
of their baby. He flung himself out of a window while his parents were having
sex. Perhaps he knew Lars was about to go all weird on us again.
With nature in as a forgiving mood as the auteur it isn’t
long before things go from bad to worse, for the couple and for the viewer.
Split into chapters – as well as a prologue and an epilogue – Antichrist starts
unsurprisingly slowly, pitting the couple against their guilt, not helped by
the deformities of nature popping up to offer yet more torment (and a few wise
words). It isn’t until the second half (forgetting the stunt penis in the
prologue) that the director infuses a visually-stunning slow-burner with
gratuitous voyeurism and violence that rivals anything Takashi Miike has ever
done. Some will greet it with revulsion but this is horror at its most
disturbing and most unwatchable, which surely can’t be a bad thing.
Speaking of Takashi Miike, here he is with this
ultra-violent adaptation of Hideo Yamamoto’s manga series of the same name.
Whether you prefer sexual pleasure obtained from receiving physical or
psychological harm or punishment, or sexual pleasure obtained by inflicting
physical or psychological harm or punishment on others, you’ll still love Ichi
The Killer, which tells the story of yakuza enforcer Kakihara (Tadanobu Asano)
as he searches for his missing boss. He comes across Ichi (Nao Ohmori), a
repressed and psychotic killer with the ability to inflict levels of pain that
Kakihara has only dreamed of. Hand out the sick bags…
And this, for the midnight screening at the Toronto
International Film Festival, is exactly what they did. Nice. Apparently it was
merely a gimmick, but there were probably one or two people in the theatre that
evening that were pretty grateful come the film’s monstrous finale. One of
Miike’s most memorable works, blessed by eye-popping performances, a warped and
twisted sense of humour and gruesome comic book imagery, Ichi The Killer is as
extreme as they come. But then, if you're going to give someone pain, you've
got to get into it…
After being kidnapped and imprisoned for 15 years, Oh Dae-Su
(Min-sik Choi) is finally released, and he’s pissed. Directed by Chan-wook Park
(Lady Vengeance, Sympathy For Mr. Vengeance, Thirst), a student of philosophy
at Sogang University in Seoul, Old Boy is infested with so much bloodshed and
violence you’ll find absolutely no way of addressing its characters problems by
using a critical, systematic approach. And you certainly won’t rely on rational
argument either.
You’ll probably never eat sushi again either (forget chowing
down on a live octopus any time soon), and it’s probably wise to fast for a few
hours in case the ultra-violent set-pieces bring your dinner back up again, but
Old Boy is much more than being outrageous just for the sake of it. With a
standout corridor fight scene, brilliant performances and a dental extraction
using a claw hammer, you’ll be hard pushed to find another movie that thrills
and spills in such gleeful abundance.
In the future, the Japanese government captures a class of
ninth-grade students and forces them to kill each other under the revolutionary
‘Battle Royale’ act. A tough sell in the current climate, with twenty children
and six adults killed only last month in the shooting at Sandy Hook elementary
school (gun violence occurs at an educational institution all too frequently
these days), Kinji Fukasaku’s classic is certainly not to be confused with the
watered-down, unprofound novels by American writer Suzanne Collins – the first
of which, The Hunger Games, was made into a film last year.
Their premises may sound similar, but Fukasaku’s film
combines intelligent social commentary with raw, uncomfortable action
sequences, and a dark vein of humour running through the very heart of it. The
Hunger Games stars Jennifer Lawrence. Battle Royale: The Director’s Cut
provides more back-story for some of its main stayers, but at the end of the
day, this is Lord Of The Flies reincarnated as an over the top action movie,
with excruciating – not to mention outrageous - set-pieces from the outset. I
mean, seriously, what would you do?
So, after many hours sat in front of the gogglebox forced to
endure the finest extreme cinema has to offer, here is the film I regard as the
genres greatest. Miike’s tale about a widower taking an offer to screen girls
at a special audition, arranged for him by a friend to find him a new wife, may
sound like something starring Julia Roberts from the nineties, but Audition is
far more disturbing than using the wrong fork at dinner. Japanese executive,
Shigeharu (Ryo Ishibashi), rightfully fancies and chooses Asami (Eihi Shiina),
but it turns out that such an innocent and beautiful young woman may not be who
she appears to be after all.
I say may not, because I really don’t want to ruin it for you, but rest assured, this is Miike at his very best, crafting a film that slowly develops into one of the scariest and nastiest films you’ll ever witness. Asami is completely mental, she has a tool kit to end all tool kits, and when she purrs "kiri kiri kiri" (Japanese for "deeper deeper deeper") you’ll be wishing you were in Shigeharu’s shoes. Probably. Like all of the very best films out there, Audition will linger long in the memory, demand repeat viewings and make you question its ingenious narrative. And the scene with Asami sitting by the phone as she waits for a call from Shigeharu will get you every single time. Unmissable.
I say may not, because I really don’t want to ruin it for you, but rest assured, this is Miike at his very best, crafting a film that slowly develops into one of the scariest and nastiest films you’ll ever witness. Asami is completely mental, she has a tool kit to end all tool kits, and when she purrs "kiri kiri kiri" (Japanese for "deeper deeper deeper") you’ll be wishing you were in Shigeharu’s shoes. Probably. Like all of the very best films out there, Audition will linger long in the memory, demand repeat viewings and make you question its ingenious narrative. And the scene with Asami sitting by the phone as she waits for a call from Shigeharu will get you every single time. Unmissable.
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