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10
= Highest Rating |
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Guest
Review by William
P. Simmons |
Sweaty,
naked women in various stages of undress kicking,
biting, and screaming while guards bend them over
bars and various bodily fluids gush and sprout:
No, I'm not referring to your typical school board
meeting, but that femme fatale favorite
of Italian cult sleaze cinema, the brutal and
sexually exciting Women In Prison genre.
Long
a staple of European exploitation cinematic history,
influenced by (and in turn influencing) similarly
themed efforts across the seas, this entry in
the cum-and-blood sweepstakes lacks the sly dark
humor of such American independent fare as The
Big Doll House and Caged
Heat while focusing on the brutal and sleazy
elements of violence, forced sex and lesbianism
that makes these films as enjoyable to fans of
grindhouse as they are reviled by critics.
Reveling
in the same outrages that its surface plot pretends
to condemn, director Bruno Mattei (SS
Girls, Hell
of the Living Dead) manages to inject a small
amount of social commentary beneath surface scenes
of debauchery, raw sexuality, and violence, although
the raw beauty and admittedly crass effects of
his powerhouse imagery tends to dwarf if not eclipse
all together any socially redeemable context.
Thankfully a director (or storyteller in general)
has no obligation to preach, no need to spice
action with sermons. Stories, be they literature
or film, have no obligation to anyone or anything
but the art form itself, the integrity of the
story. While social significance and psychological
maturity undeniably lends greater importance and
artistry to a story, it is by no means a requirement
(despite the ineffective, morally debatable, self-deluding
insistence of politically-minded critics), the
primal function of storytelling is emotional involving
entertainment. As a result of this fundamental
truth, known as fully by primal man as by today's
fictional authors —
and because such directors as Bruno Mattei never
claimed to be anything other than entertainers
— this film, and
the sub-genre as a whole, concentrates on sheer
sensationalism. These movies are not captivating
instances of character study or plot development.
Here you will find no odes to inner peace, no
intimate themes of self-searching. No, these peons
to perversity are raw brutal, and honestly crude.
Pornography of the action world, Mattei's territory
is the warped pleasures of savagery and pain,
rough sex and rougher vengeance. Proceed with
caution!
Delivering
precisely what the title suggests, Women's
Prison Massacre, while hardly unique, delivers
the graphic exploitation that, for better or for
worse, is the true reason for the success and
effectiveness of these movies: our base if all
too human secret enjoyment witnessing the pain
and terror of others, which allows us to become
both victim and victimizer in relative safety.
A general continuation of Mattei's Caged
Women (a few characters reprising their
roles), the story focuses on Emanuelle (Laura
Gemser), a reporter arrested on trumped up charges
when she nearly exposes a politician for drug
trafficking. Beginning with an inmate-acted play
that sets the outlandish tone that helps to counteract
the cruelty of several shocking scenes, the majority
of the first act treats us to Emanuelle knife-fighting,
two lesbian inmates punished for sexual lewdness,
and an atmospheric establishment of desperate
harshness. Mattei cranks up the sleaze and rage
factor when four male convicts arrive at the prison
for a one night stopover during a transfer. Before
you can blink, these villains overthrow their
captors. More importantly, this gives Mattei an
excuse to indulge in hostage taking, a horny convict
fondled by a prisoner in a cage, forced Russian
Roulette splatter-ballets, numerous bloody squibs,
and, for those emotionally tender types who prefer
tasteful subtlety in their genre films, a woman
with a razor blade inserted into her vagina. (Ouch!)
An
involving, groovy score and Mattei's workmanlike
if not inspired direction bring violent energy
and enjoyment to the proceedings. A director often
reviled (and more often ignored), Bruno Mattei
is the archetypal example of the hard working
if uninspired hack director. Here the term 'hack'
is admirably employed, signifying not someone
without talent but a man who uses his craft and
creativity to exploit the most sensational of
events and themes with the simple if admirable
purpose of evoking emotions from an audience.
Preferring to play in fields of flash rather than
the world of pure ideas, Mattei still cultivates
admirable if unconscious themes in his rape spectacles,
interweaving sordid thrills with a subtext of
political influence, corruption, and sexual abuse
in Women's Prison Massacre.
While
many complain about the serious tone of the movie,
bordering on depressing, I find this psychological
atmosphere adds essential somberness to the story
while reflecting the internal hopelessness and
helplessness of the inmates. And for those who
lament the emphasis on shock rather than character,
let's face a hard fact here: in these movies we
are not interested in these characters as people
but as objects. While this may say some disturbing
things about our species, or perhaps only those
who enjoy the spectacle, and while characterization
improves any story, it is safe to say that these
poems of perversity allow us to become, for a
brief time, spectators a la the Roman slave rings,
watching prisoners screw and die. These are snuff
films of the mind. Hardly a lofty purpose, it
is one that Mattei attains. As in his similar
efforts, from the Nazi camp atrocities of bad
taste to his groovy zombie horrors, he encourages
us, like exploitation movies in general, to feed
the beasts within.
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The picture and quality, while cleaned up, aren't
pristine, and the sound is occasionally distracting,
interrupted by a hissing mono track, perhaps from
a dub. The image suffers from some grain and soft
images, and the coloring is off. Still, this is
a commendable offering of a movie that, until
a few years ago, wouldn't even been considered
for a DVD release let alone a special edition.
Appearing here in all its uncut gory-glory, Retro
Shock-O-Rama's release illustrates the company's
dedication to obscure titles and its fans, issuing
this title as a response to the furor from their
initial release of the R-rated cut of the DVD.
About six minutes longer than the R version, the
film is featured in anamorphic widescreen and
offers further instances of blood, violence, and
scenes whose sufferance at the editing chopping
block lent confusion to the R-rated print. Extras
are sadly lacking, containing only trailers for
the title feature, Slime
City, and Satan's
Black Wedding/Criminally Insane, and liner
notes by "42nd Street Pete" that, while capturing
the plot to the point of spilling the ending,
lacks the critical insight expected. A poem to
perversity, Women's Prison
Massacre is a sexy and sadistic celebration
of bad taste.
4/15/06
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