Blood Feast

From a technical standpoint, this movie is awful. But, you still have to give credit to Lewis and Friedman for creating a new genre of film; the splatter flick. For this reason, and probably this reason alone, I rate it at 6. Well, you have to give Lewis credit for the musical score that he did himself. The electric organ and opening shot of the Sphinx is hilarious. The writing and acting, though, are deplorable.

This is an exploitation movie in the mold of the circus sideshow. The ad campaign for the movie made it appear to be more than it really was. In fact, a "nurse" was on hand at showings to assist those who might become overwhelmed by the horror presented on the screen. Many of the scenes, like the one with the woman's tongue being ripped out of her mouth (from what I understand, it was a sheep's tongue purchased from a local butcher)are quite revolting and unsettling. Actually, this is a part of what is known as the Blood Trilogy along with Lewis' better made, Two Thousand Maniacs. The third film is Color Me Blood Red.

As the first-ever splatter epic, "Blood Feast" is assured of its place in history. This low-budget shlockfest is single-handedly responsible for launching an entire genre of films, including slasher fare like the Friday the 13th, Halloween, and Nightmare on Elm Street movies. For that reason, its place in hell is probably assured, too. Though to be fair, of course, we can thank it for so many other blood-soaked cinematic excursions that are actually entertaining.

And fortunately for cheese heads, director Herschell Gordon Lewis, the "Godfather of Gore," is also the Ed Wood of gore. The two great auteurs share many important trademarks in their roster of masterpieces, including wooden acting, absurdly bad dialogue, cheeseball effects, and lousy continuity. "Blood Feast" sports all of these endearing qualities and more, even going so far as to include some Woodian abrupt day-to-night-to-day transitions.

The dopey plot involves one Fuad Ramses, author of the New York Times bestseller "Ancient Weird Religious Practices," and his attempt to re-create, through his ridiculous "exotic catering" service, an authentic Egyptian blood feast, whatever that is. But really, all we need to know is that it involves the gruesome murders of pretty young women. (Surprise, surprise, surprise!) Beyond that, all that's left to say is that the Good Doctor gives this landmark bit of trash cinema two wheels of gorgonzola up.

Followed, insanely, by a sequel in 2002.

In the context of film school, film theory, film conventions and anything about film-making that makes it a poignant and artful form of expression, this is a big "DON'T". Anything that can be done poorly, has already been done. Yet what we are left with is a prototypical piece of celluloid. The director, Herschell Gordon Lewis, can easily be seen as love child of Russ Meyer and Ed Wood. Those two names both evoke dread and hilarity. One can only imagine what a movie that has both would be like. Well thankfully for Herschell Gordon Lewis, the world soon found out.

As with most of his movies, forget the story. It is usually a patchwork of closeups, zoom outs, shaky cam, fake gore, nonsensical dialog driven vignettes (with sadomasochistic and other sexual undertones), coming together in the framework of 60 minutes.

There's a serial killer around killing young women and removing certain organs or appendages. At the same time there is a deli owner who caters a special ancient Egyptian feast. The rest is just nonsensical, droll dialog delivered with monotony and the ending. The ending is just painful. I recommend running around blindfolded at full speed in a city, as a way to simulate the end of the movie. If I am making this seem bad, I can digress by listing more evidence of this :

Exhibit 1 : Multiple minute scene of a character making a phone call and then conversing with that person. We never hear or see the person on the other end.

Exhibit 2 : Profile close ups of two people talking. Multiple instances too numerous to count.

Exhibit 3 : Echo, echo, echo .....

Exhibit 4 : Try to hire someone who's last job wasn't as a silent movie pianist, in 1919. It sounded like old heroin-hooked Bela Lugosi having fun with a church organ.

Exhibit 5 : Police that store their firearms in their back pockets (along with their wallets, most likely) and continue to mispronounce homicide (pronounced home_e-side).

Exhibit 6 : Horrible acting in vivid, bright Cinemascope.

Exhibit 7 : An intermission half way through the movie, where a Richard Nixon look alike is giving a lecture on ancient Egypt.

Exhibit 8 : The longest and slowest getaway and chase scene by a man from the Ministry of Funny Walks.

Exhibit 9 : Dialog such as :

"Well the killer must have thought she was dead. It was a miracle she wasn't."

"Well she is now."

".... yeah."

Based on all my evidence so far, you either :

a) think I hate this movie. b) know I hate this movie. c) stopped reading 15 minutes ago. d) are confused. e) none of the above.

To answer all but e, I do like this movie. This movie is closer to Russ Meyer's than Ed Wood. Ed lounged in his mediocre low-budget fetish. Russ mostly portrayed sex as a good, fun thing (his movies do have an unusual depth to them). Herschell took Ed's knack for making SOMETHING with limited funds and added the sexually explicit and completely gratuitous scenes. Just in case we weren't gorged enough on our own endorphins, he adds the gore/horror element. The funny thing is that none of it works. The ridiculousness of the movie is in itself. An advantage is the short running time. By the time you realize you are still watching, is the same point you realize it will just end.

I can easily see a starving early 30 year old William Shatner finding an artistic mentor after watching this on a lazy Saturday afternoon double feature. So join in. Drop into the couch and pour yourself a fresh one. We're gonna be here for a little while. Kanpai !!

Herschell is maybe my favorite gore director. The person who invented genres off handedly, does it again - for the first time! Wonderful colors, very disturbing plot. John Waters used to watch these films as a young man. One could see Herschell's effect on Waters later films like 'Pink Flamingos' when you look at Herschells colors (color me blood red) and the trashy- campy acting, costumes and settings. When I think of flesh Water's star Divine - i have to admit - Waters saved some of that gore effect that Herschell has in his films. The effect of real fleshy gore!

This is the splatter anticlassic all us sickos know and love. The non-plot is, well, pretty simple and it's only an excuse to cut loose with loads of very extreme gore and sadism. Fuad Ramses (Mal Arnold), an Egyptian maniac of pagan bloodlust, must serve up a "blood feast" to Ishtar, his horrible goddess of gory days gone by. Y'know, back when chicks used to get their hearts yanked out on altars IN BLOOD COLOR! How does he get the morsels for his feast? It's an easy guess! Tongues pulled out. Limbs cut off. Brains hacked out in a blood-splattered mess. It's the grand-daddy of all the sickest stuff you've ever seen, and even though it's pretty stupid and bad, it sure is fun! It's even funny on purpose (as well as the other way around). For those of you who dig this unsavory and depraved type of junk the way I do, find this bad mother as soon as possible and surrender to the forbidden pleasures of the first splatter-comedy ever! (I think...)