The Satanic Sluts are an all female collective (similar to the Suicide Girls), numbering up to 666 of the world’s most sexual, attitudinal, confrontational, creative and challenging women that have ever chosen to walk down the left-hand path. In this exclusive and unique DVD six members of The Satanic sluts have bared their corrupt souls for your delectation and their dubious pleasure. Featuring real bloodletting, Japanese rope bondage, whippings and satanic crucifixions, through to fantasized sequences involving torture, medical experiments and vampirism. Watching this DVD will be akin to having your eyeballs licked – prepare to go blind!
2008 – Certificate: 18 – UK Film
Rating Details: Very strong language, nudity, bloody gore and fetish
3.0 out of 10
I’ve always quite liked scented things for rooms. I’m not talking about those dreadful air freshener sprays that appear to be a close relation of tear gas; or them plug-in abominations, whose mere existence confirms the inevitability of environmental Armageddon. No, I’m talking about things like incense and oil burners. A couple of years ago, two friends came to stay with me and gave me a gift of some piñon pine incense cones. They were lovely, but sadly they ran out ages ago; (the cones, not the friends). I hunted around on the Internet looking for a supplier, but they were all in America and the idea of paying zillions for shipping wasn’t that appealing. All I could find closer to home were piñon incense sticks, which just weren’t the same. However, I finally came access a cone supplier on eBay a month or two ago, based in the UK. My flat now smells like an open wood fire in New Mexico. Apparently it also repels mosquitoes. The only smells likely to emanate from this film are rubber, latex and leather.
Just for a moment, think about your favourite, male, movie action-hero. Okay, now imagine him in a tough spot; his gun’s out of ammo, he’s securely tied up with the film’s beautiful heroine and they’ve only got five minutes before the nuclear bomb they’re sitting on explodes, killing millions of innocents in Los Angeles. He might say something along the lines of, “this is bad… really bad”. Now, forget about the bomb and stuff and plonk that same action-hero in front of a TV and make him watch this film for a bit. Spot the difference in the dialogue? No, I can’t either. Part drama and part documentary, this movie is made up of a series of quite random short scenes and interviews with some of the ‘cast’. It’s probably supposed to provide an insight into an alternative lifestyle, whilst exciting the parts other films can’t reach. Well it did neither and it all felt strangely old-fashioned to me too. I’ve never quite understood the appeal of all that gothic, dominatrix in leather stuff; I suppose that comes of being vegan. I did find myself wondering at one point how hot it must get wearing all that latex. I use to have a pair of PVC trousers in my more flamboyant days and they used to really warm up if the sun got on them; they were good in wet weather though. I can only imagine the 170 seconds of footage that the BBFC insisted were cut from the film to enable it to gain an 18 certificate, must have all the plot and ‘good stuff’ in them. Yes, the compulsory cuts that were required to remove the “unsimulated sight of restrained woman’s arm being cut with a scalpel” must be where it all is. I guess the sight of someone having needles pushed into various parts of her face is okay though, it was probably just something to do with acupuncture that I’ve misinterpreted. And as I never open the security grills on the windows in my office at work, the stuff with the cages didn’t seem that big a deal to me. However, the scariest thing about this film is that it’s the first part of a trilogy. That will give me sleepless nights.
I’m not sure what sort of music soundtrack this film had. Industrial techno? Who knows? Anyway, it wasn’t very good.
Recommended for acupuncturists, nuns, birds in leather and nurses.
No cats, chainsaws or decapitations. However, one of the ‘stars’ calls herself Chelsea Chainsaw. I hope she has the proper ‘industry tickets’ for that name, at least CS30 and hopefully CS31 too.
Top badass moment? Someone has lots of needles pushed into her face, for the entertainment of others. It’s not made entirely clear what she gets out of it, but whatever, that’s kind of badass. I might give it a miss myself; there’re some reruns of “Bargain Hunt” with David Dickinson I’m keen to catch up with this weekend.
I’m vegan. This makes me better than most other people. I’m not being big-headed or stupid or anything, that’s just the way things are. (See “Scott Pilgrim Vs. The World” for more details.) I’m lucky, in that the whole population of Cactus World is vegan, which makes things a lot easier. However, the same can’t be said for some of the neighbouring areas. My flat has a couple of air vents in it with built-in fans. These appear to be connected to all the other vents in the building, via a series of pipes buried in the walls. They’re the sort of vents you can use to ‘enjoy’ a ‘domestic’ going on next door. If I lived in a Hollywood film in an old apartment in New York, I’m sure I’d regularly hear murders being committed through them, (which there’d mysteriously be no evidence for when the police arrived to investigate things); or perhaps a major terrorist attack (with a nuclear bomb of course) being planned. I suppose I should be thankful that the vents are in the kitchen and bathroom, as they don’t seem to pick up the sound from other rooms of happy couples em, coupling. So anyway, a little while ago I went to the aforementioned bathroom, to do some ‘bathroom things’. As soon as I opened the lounge door, my senses were assaulted by the smell of cooked fish. I doubt the world’s oceans smell as fishy as my flat right now. Unfortunately, the vents transport smells as easily as they transfer sounds. Four emergency incense cones have now been lit, in an effort to neutralise the insidious odour. (High-powered ones obtained from the US military, through a special arrangement with the authorities in New Mexico. They have “the fragrant aroma of smouldering Piñon firewood that is characteristic of the whole Southwest and the foothills of the Rockies.”) We’ve yet to hear any announcements regarding whether this is a deliberate chemical weapons attack on Cactus World, the result of a massive industrial accident, or simply the outcome of dinner-time for one of my neighbours. For a vegan however, it’s pretty crap; and annoying. The last time my flat smelt this fishy was the day I first came to see it prior to moving in. This was later determined to be a deliberate ploy by the previous inhabitants to disguise one of their leisure activities; it was about a year before it ceased to smell of dope; my predecessors were apparently keen on a joint or two. This film doesn’t feature any of these things. In fact, it couldn’t ‘unfeature’ them more if it tried.
2004 – Certificate: 15 – USA
Rating Details: Moderate sex
I need to go on a diet, (even more than I normally do). This film was so syrupy and sweet that just watching it has made me put on about 5kg. The plot twist at the end is also so obvious that it probably shouldn’t really count as one at all; it’s like one of those weakening fronts you see on weather maps, which by the time they arrive only consist of a few clouds, so if they weren’t pointed out to you you’d probably not even notice them. I’m not much of a fan of period dramas, so a movie set mostly in the 1930s and 1940s isn’t the sort of thing to really excite me. The chances of there being many big explosions, spaceships or gratuitous violence felt slim. Then again, any film with Ryan Gosling in is worth checking out. James Garner’s in it too, who was already old even when I was young. So anyway, okay, this is actually a great film, with the most romantic/tragic ending it’s probably possible to have. As a fan of Thomas Hardy, I’ve always had a soft spot for relationships that get fucked-up by families, class, money, etc. This film delivers a classic Hardy class-barrier storyline, rich city girl and poor country boy; (sounds awful doesn’t it)? Fact is, this film doesn’t really do anything very much else and it certainly doesn’t break any new ground, but what it does do it does really, really well. In fact the only part that felt a bit weak was the Mother’s ‘revelation’; it did feel a bit of a plot contrivance rather than something that fitted into the overall narrative. As a romantic period drama, this does deliver; and yes, it is, especially the ending, tissue-friendly.
Recommended for true romantics. In the perfect world, we’d all end up with our first loves forever. (Aw, see, I can be romantic too.)
No cats, decapitations or chainsaws.
Top badass moment? I have to give this to Lon Hammond. He just goes to prove that even if you’re handsome, a war hero, successful, attentive and an all-around nice guy, you don’t always get the girl. Being a good loser is badass and he manages here to be a top bloke about everything, when he probably had every right to be really, really pissed off.