All Of Them Busty Witches

Considering I generally find Netflix’s ‘erotic thrillers’ hilarious (see: Blood Gnome) I couldn’t think of any reason NOT to watch Witch’s Sabbath.

None. At. Atll.

Quick Plot: A coven of witches led by the artificially large chested Auriana (the fairly amazingly named Syn DeVil) run a well-lit strip club to lure its patrons into an after party held at a private mansion. Once there, randy men and their occasionally bored girlfriends get their faces clawed off and souls sent to Satan as their blood spurts all over naked porn stars like...well...you know.

But they get to see boobs! LOTS of them! Real ones, fake ones, ones wrapped in black leather, ones thinly veiled by fishnet, ones awkwardly coddled by unattractive men...

Yup, as I often find myself saying here, I don’t know that I was the target audience for this film.

And yet...and yet...I actually found myself enjoying Witch’s Sabbath, poorly punctuated title be damned. Though it’s about as sexy as a podiatrist’s waiting room, the film has a genuinely fun spirit about itself and far more energetic performances than you’d find in most of the cast’s back catalog (including porn star Lisa Sparxxx, whose credits include the phenomenally titled Ass Good Ass It Gets, MILF Busters, and the fifth entry in the My Hot Wife Is Fucking Blackzilla! franchise). Even Ron Jeremy shows up for a “special appearance” playing a bible salesman who occasionally dips into a southern accent because, you know, that’s what a bible salesman does. Also, his name is Craven Moorehead which...let’s face it, is amusing.

As the witches amass their collection of souls to feed to the land-bound octopus they call Satan, we switch to the sunnier side of town to meet Eliza, a selectively intelligent blond whose boyfriend likes to play wacky non-sex games such as wearing a black ski cap and sneaking outside her window for kicks. 

No seriously, it’s not a sex thing.

Eliza and her doofy boyfriend Seth decide to visit his favorite strip club along with his never-been-kissed best friend and a poor soul of a blind date. The foursome get a private invite to--whaddya know--a Halloween party at Auriana’s mansion where body limbs fly, ugly leopard print plastic raincoats get stained, and secrets are revealed.

Also, we see more boobs. But you knew that already.

High Points

It’s no secret that I’m a crazy cat lady in training, so the fact that Witch’s Sabbath took the trouble to actually cast and zoom in on a kitten for the all important line “Travis can’t speak right now. My cat has his tongue!” is well appreciated by me

For a cheaply made nudie-horror, Witch’s Sabbath sure put a lot of energy into its gore, and it shows. Sure, some of the severed heads look straight off a Spencer’s Gifts shelf, but there are some gooily great blood squirtings that shows the filmmakers were far more ambitious than something like, say, Santa Claws

Low Points

I get director Jeff Leroy wasn’t thinking of me, a straight woman, while making this film, but does that HAVE to mean that the men get to watch Playboy knockoff centerfolds and I get...well...Ron Jeremy?

Lessons Learned

You can’t break a cop’s wrist! (except you totally can)

Politely applauding at a strip club is also known as getting out of control

Asking “Who’s there? Please, if there’s someone out there, just go away,” when you suspect a prowler is outside your window will most likely not get the results you’re looking for

Remember, Travis plans on getting laid tonight

The going rate for convincing your friend to accepting a blind date with a socially incompetent creep? One pair of earrings

The Winning Line

“Where you going? Crazy ass witch with titties.”

I wonder so hard how many takes it took for the actor to say this without cracking up. I don’t think I can count that high

Credits Curiosity

The opening credits boast a “special appearance by Ron Jeremy,” prompting me to wonder: is that really so special? Doesn’t that guy show up to the opening of a Subway restaurant or pizza buffet?

Rent/Bury/Buy

For a softcore horror porn, Witch’s Sabbath is surprisingly entertaining. Most of the performances are quite sunny and the gore is as satisfying as any low budget gross-out. I wouldn’t recommend putting any money or energy towards it, but as an Instant Watch, it’s not the worst way to kill 83 minutes when NBC decides to show reruns of its shows one month into the fall season. This is why I try to limit my television watching.

Especially when I could just observe the weirdness of veiny fake boobs.

And one day, you too shall be a great witchhunter!

Ever watch a film that in no way embodies its reputation? You see a title like “Mark of the Devil,” spot Udo Kier in the cast, and knowingly eye the cover art featuring a pretty blond having her tongue cut out. Internet research reveals this was advertised with a William Castle-ish campaign complete with complimentary barf bags with every ticket purchase. If you’re like me, you pretty much assume the next 90 minutes will be spent with cheap period costumed bosoms, lots of burnings at the stake and eventually, silly dallyings with Satan himself.

You know what they say about assuming.

Quick Plot: In the 18th century (or so), priestly witch hunters devote their lives (or more fittingly, the lives of a whole lot of unlucky villagers) to purging the lands of the devil, mostly by imprisoning random citizens and inflicting ungodly methods of torture until they nod blankly at the suggestion of working for the devil, only to then be beheaded in front of TV-less townspeople who love a good show. 

This particular cleansing occurs in a regular old European town ruled by Albino, a scarred and cruel man who resembles a period-era Geoffrey Rush after being left out in the sun for too long. Like most witch hunters, Albino uses his power to randomly execute locals to suit his needs, even having the jerkitude to accuse a nice young bar wench for spurning his oily advances. Things seem to look brighter at the arrival of Lord Cumberland, the world’s most revered and feared enemy of Satan, and his fluffy assistant (Udo Kier! dubbed). 

Too bad ‘better’ lasts as far as slapping the smarm out of Albino before then returning to even crueler methods of torture.

Although nun tongues are severed, limbs stretched, and bodies burned at the stake, Mark of the Devil is hardly trashy exploitation. The production values are top notch, with gorgeous cinematography that paints a postcard-like landscape and kinetic camerawork that plays with perspective. A few background searches (plus gloriously Kierish special features) reveal a rather tumultuous filming process, with a director replacement and constant script revisions. Am I crazy for not seeing this?

What I’m trying to say is Mark of the Devil is a genuinely fine film. Hammer quality history with more discipline and patience, plus the rather nihilistic nerve to end in a frustrating, yet fitting way that defies your general expectations. 

High Points

In a film seeped with seriousness, a side story involving confused executioners and impressive marionettes is a hilarious and welcome diversion

Have there ever been such memorable faces sharing the screen as the executioner and indictment writer? These mugs could make roses wilt

Low Points

For a movie that wore its grisliness on a promotional barf bag, the final revolt is disappointingly tame

Lessons Learned

Rabbits don’t eat meat, but they do make fairly adorable marionettes

In order to avoid being accused of mating with Satan, avoid being rich, pretty, or good with puppets

In the 18th century, the only cure for impotence was rape

Rent/Bury/Buy

Perhaps my expectations were simply in the minor leagues, but Mark of the Devil felt like a genuine all-star film, odd considering its troubled history, dual directorship and dubbed awkwardness. Some of the camerawork is truly innovative and the story keeps you intrigued throughout the brisk 100 minute running time. Blue Underground put out a top notch DVD complete with a very frank commentary and a basketful of interviews with the cast (including a hilarious Udo Kier). It’s an easy rental with possible buy potential.

Love Me, Dub Me

Sometimes I forget what a bumbling, albeit enjoyable experience it is to watch a dubbed film. With extremely rare exceptions (I don’t actually know of any but I hate to believe in any absolutes), genre films with overenthusiastic American voiceover artists generally amuse on a campy and awkward level as opposed to ever seamlessly integrating to cause real scares. Burial Ground: The Nights of Terror  is a joy, but that doesn’t mean it works.

Tanit Jitnukul's Art of the Devil marks my first foray into Thai horror and while it has a few effective moments of artistry, I’ll preface this review with the admission that any real tension is skimmed down by the dreadfully bland, I assume poorly translated English dubbed track. 

Quick Plot: 

A pretty, light-headed young woman named Boom is quickly romanced by a wealthy married architect who enjoys watching her dance with his pals. You should know that your relationship is in trouble when on the first date, you're asked to remove your top and get jiggy with others but you know...charm goes a long way.

Pregnant and pissed off when her married one-time lover proves less than thrilled and more than slap-happy, Boom takes the logical step of employing Thai voodoo vengeance on his entire family, inspiring an Amityville 2 -like murder-suicide rampage on his household in the hopes of inheriting everything that’s left. 

Life never quite works out the way you expect, and before she can claim a not really rightful place at the head of an oversized dinner table, a previous family emerges complete with an apparently ageless former mistress mother, her eligible bachelor son, mallrat daughter, other son that will prove easy early fodder, and bratty kid brother with the voice of a squeak toy. It doesn’t take long for Boom to work her feminine wiles on a very eager to be engaged bachelor and before you can attempt to read any of the unsubtitled cue cards that are written in Thai regarding the passage of time, people are vomiting up gooey eels and children are taking drawing lessons from Cabin Fever’s pancake loving Dennis.

On one hand, Art of the Devil is a fairly straight story about a woman scorned and those that suffer in her tracks. This being my first full Thai film, I don’t know how indicative it is of that nation’s genre films but it’s a well-made, albeit tragically dubbed horror with some earned scares and haunting moments. It also contains paper-thin characters that leave little impression and a convoluted second act script that gets lost in a tangle of unnecessary mystery. For this viewer, the final effect rested somewhere in the middle.

High Points

It’s a personal taste to be sure, but I just never tire of seeing crayon colored scenes of child-like carnage

Low Points

Not sure if it’s the English track or original sound choice, but making the demon voices sound alternately like South Park’s Satan and an angry Munchkin of Oz wasn’t the best idea anybody’s ever had

Lessons Learned

People will think your man isn’t macho if he doesn’t take a few sips of liquor in private

Doctor/patient confidentiality in Thailand is defined as thus: call a nurse. Ask for information regarding a future appointment of another person, and receive a complete medical history of said stranger along with a full report of past visits

Saying “I don’t drink” doesn’t really mean anything if you reluctantly down a glass nine times over the course of a 100 minute film

Working around drunk people can be dangerous (yet much safer than having a vengeful sister-in-law)

Rent/Bury/Buy

If viewed with proper subtitling, Art of the Devil may indeed by something of an effective ghostly revenge story. Eerie imagery occasionally oozes in, and voodoo fans or those interested in South East Asian spiritual vengeance tales may find the film compelling. On the other hand, the English dubbed track that runs with the Instant Watch cut simply can’t fail to make you laugh at everything from forced sound (apparently characters are never silent but will indeed mumble “Uh” on constant loop when alone onscreen) and clumsily translated dialog. I don’t discourage a watch, as the last half does kick into fairly creepy territory, but at the same time, I can think of few readers who will fall in love with this film. If found at a library in its original Thai track, give it ago. If slightly drunk (even though you don’t drink and/or don’t mind not appearing macho), watch with refills.