Found Footage Horrors: Cannibal Holocaust (1980)

There are numerous horror and exploitation films that have reputations of being extremely shocking, disturbing, and absolutely horrifying, and are often sold on that notoriety, but then, when you actually see them, they don't live up to the hype. A lot of them are still genuinely good, well-made movies but, whether they're considered dated by today's standards and current audiences' jaded attitudes, or they've simply been outdone by later films, they've lost a lot of their power to shock and truly horrify. Let's face it, few diehard horror fans, as well as modern filmgoers in general, still feel that The Exorcist is the scariest movie ever made or are truly disturbed by The Texas Chainsaw Massacre, despite their undeniable classic status. For that matter, even notoriously "nasty" movies like The Last House on the Left or the most gruesome of Lucio Fulci's movies, like his "Gates of Hell" trilogy or The New York Ripper, never impacted me that much, aside from a few instances of wincing and recoiling while going, "Ugh." I don't know if that says anything about me as a person but, regardless, at this point in my life, and with all the horror films I've seen, it's really hard to truly shock me. So, I really had no idea just what I was getting into when I decided to check out Cannibal Holocaust. I first learned of it in 2006, from a book I bought at a Hastings simply called Horror Films, one of a series of that analyzes a set of noteworthy films in a given genre, such as science fiction and comic book movies, from many points of view, from their content to their political and/or social commentary and cultural influence. These books are the type that have no illustration, save for a section in the middle where have five to seven pages of full-color images and stills; Cannibal Holocaust was the only movie discussed where a piece of cover art was used rather than an actual image. In this case, it happened to be the very cover art that sparked the "video nasty" controversy: a very grisly drawing of a cannibal munching on what appeared to be some entrails. Having never even heard of the movie before, it was strange not having a real visual to connect to its chapter in the book (although I think I may have been thankful once I actually got down to reading it). I don't remember what my initial thoughts were upon reading about it, other than it sounded like a pretty disturbing flick. Naturally, they talked about the animal killings but, being naive at this point and having never seen or read up on any Italian horror films (even though I did know of guys like Dario Argento, Fulci, and Mario Bava), I had no inkling of how utterly insane they tended to get and thus, didn't really believe there was a movie that contained such stuff.

After I read that book, from which I also learned of the many other Italian cannibal films produced during that period, I didn't think about Cannibal Holocaust much, although I did see the Grindhouse Releasing DVD of it at an FYE, with the blurbs, "The most controversial movie ever made!", and, "The one that goes all the way!", plastered all over it. It wasn't until I saw some featurettes and documentaries on YouTube that I finally saw some actual clips and images and... yeah, I was pretty struck by them. Granted, what I saw wasn't the absolute worst stuff, for obvious reasons, but it was, nevertheless, pretty damn disturbing, and made even more so by the music score. I had never thought about actually watching the movie before then but now, I was caught between a morbid curiosity of wanting to see what else it would dare show, and being pretty repulsed by both what I had seen and knowing that there were, indeed, real onscreen animal killings. This wasn't the first time I'd come to such a crossroads and, whenever it happens, curiosity usually wins the battle; Cannibal Holocaust was no exception. So, in early 2010, despite everything I had heard and read, I decided to bite the bullet and bought a copy of that Grindhouse DVD, fittingly at a Hastings. 

I was really happy to learn of the Animal Cruelty Free playback option, as it was how I intended to watch the movie from the start and how I always have afterward, save for one fluke time I didn't. But, even with that stuff removed, by the time the movie was over, I was really shaken. Make no mistake, this is truly among the most disturbing things I've ever seen, along with Pet Sematary, certain episodes of Masters of Horror, and the anime, Elfen Lied. That said, though, disturbing is not something I go looking for. I don't intend to intentionally subject myself to anything else as horrific as this, with prime examples being A Serbian Film, the August Underground movies, and Takashi Miike's most notorious movies (his Masters of Horror episode, Imprint, was one of those that really rattled me). But, I can't deny that Cannibal Holocaust is very, very effective in what it sets out to do... so much so that I have a very complicated relationship with it. Currently, it's on My 101 Favorite Horror Films, albeit at the very bottom, but, over time, I've really gone back and forth, wondering if I should have put it there. As much as I can appreciate what the filmmakers were going for and how the movie pulls no punches, it's hardly something you'd put on for entertainment value, and I always rather dread viewing it. Plus, my feelings on it really shifted when I saw the full uncut version, as I'll go into later.

(I'm sure most of you already know what you're getting into by reading this but, just in case, I want to put a little disclaimer here and warn you that you're going to see some really rough images here. I'm not going to show any of the excessive nudity, the sexual violence and rapes, the bit of real execution footage, or the animal cruelty, as I don't want to get in trouble, but there's still going to be a lot of nastiness. You've been warned.)

It's been two months since a group of young, documentary filmmakers disappeared in the Amazon jungle while shooting a film about cannibal tribes purported to live in a remote area known as the Green Inferno. New York University and the Pan-American Broadcasting System sponsor a rescue team, with noted anthropologist Harold Monroe assigned to lead it. Upon arriving at a Colombian military outpost, Monroe learns the soldiers have captured a member of the Yacumo tribe, who was part of a small group found eating human remains at the edge of the jungle. More significantly, he had a cigarette lighter on him that Monroe identifies as having belonged to one of the missing filmmakers. Monroe is introduced to his two guides, Chaco and Miguel, the former explaining that the Yacumos, who are not actually cannibals, were eating human flesh in a religious ceremony to expel evil spirits from the jungle; specifically, white men spirits. Intending to have the native lead them to his village, the trio journeys into the jungle, at one point finding the badly-decomposed corpse of the filmmakers' guide, Felipe. They eventually reach the Yacumo village and, despite some initial distrust, establish peaceful relations with them by releasing their prisoner. The team then moves on and eventually finds the Yamamomo cannibal tribe. Although they're allowed to stay after saving them from an attack by another tribe, like the Yacumos, the Yamamomos treat them with suspicion, leading Chaco to suspect the filmmakers did something to stir up trouble. After breaking the ice, Monroe is led to the team's remains, arranged in a hideous shrine, as well as their film reels. Determined to get the film back to America, he eventually manages to gain the chief's permission to do so. Upon arriving back in New York, Monroe is asked to host a documentary to be cobbled together from the footage, but he asks to see it first. When he does, he's appalled by the reprehensible and inhuman acts the filmmakers committed against the natives in order to spice up their film. Not only does he now intend to distance himself from it, he plans to convince the Pan America executives that the footage must not be aired in any form by showing them the last disturbing reels.

A number of directors, even some of the most admired who have ever lived, have reputations of not having been the easiest people to work with. Fritz Lang, Alfred Hitchcock, Akira Kurosawa, Roman Polanski, James Cameron, and David Fincher, among others, are known just much as for their less than warm and fuzzy, and in some cases, downright tyrannical, personalities as they are the terrific movies they've made. Italian filmmakers, in particular, are known to get really riled up and not have the best personalities for dealing with people, with maestro Lucio Fulci apparently having had quite a sadistic and misogynistic streak. But, all that said, I don't know if there's a living director today who is more genuinely reviled for what he did (except for maybe known child molester Victor Salva) than Ruggero Deodato. He may not have been the first Italian director to actually kill animals on-camera (nor was he the last, unfortunately), and he certainly wasn't the first to raise his voice to anyone during a disagreement, but after hearing all the stories of the making of Cannibal Holocaust, it seems like he crossed the line in many, many ways. Besides the animal cruelty, which many of the cast and crew objected to, Deodato seems to have been nothing less than a mean-spirited, foul-mouthed bully on the set, saying whatever was on his mind without thinking or caring about how it may affect others, screaming at people who wouldn't do what he told them to (according to actor Carl Yorke, Deodato dragged his co-star, Francesca Ciardi, off-set and gave her an earful when she wouldn't do a graphic sex scene the way he wanted), and was just a generally unpleasant person. Actor Robert Kerman described him as a sadist with "no soul," that he was particularly cruel towards people who couldn't answer back without losing their jobs, and that he forced the natives who played the cannibals to do incredibly dangerous things with no pay. Not surprisingly, these stories of bad behavior, coupled with the extreme content of this film and some of his others, like House on the Edge of the Park, have earned him a reputation as a misanthrope. I used to give Deodato credit for condemning his past actions in later years but, after reading interviews and watching the documentary, Deodato Holocaust, it's obvious he only regrets it because of the trouble it caused him and he gets angry when pressed about it, especially the animal cruelty. He just strikes me as not a good person in general and, as we'll get into, he's so contradictory in what he says about the film that I don't know what to believe.

I don't know how much credit I should give to his actual acting, since his voice is dubbed (although the dub performance isn't bad) but, regardless, Robert Kerman's Prof. Harold Monroe is one of the few really likable people in the film. For that matter, he's more or less the only sane character, both in the jungles of South America and the urban jungle of New York, coming off as a compassionate and rational man. But, unfortunately, that attitude doesn't do him any favors in the Amazon, where he is constantly reprimanded by his guide, Chaco, for being far too soft and concerned for the well-being of the Yacumo native they're using to find the village. The poor guy is also unprepared for the horrific stuff they see along the way, like the badly decomposed corpse of the Yates team's guide, Felipe, the sight of which causes him to throw up, the Yacumo ritualistic punishment for adultery they spy on (he has to be restrained from stopping it, as doing so would prove fatal for the man performing it), and having to eat a disgusting meal prepared by the Yacumos. But, when they find the Yamamomo tribe and are initially greeted with fear and distrust, Monroe uses his knowledge of primitive cultures and psychology to break the ice. First, he strips himself completely naked and bathes in the river, just like they would, leading to a bunch of women joining him. After frolicking and playing with him in the shallows, they lead him to the remains of the Yates party, as well as their film reels. Horrified at the grisly sight, and doubly shocked when the Yamamomos refuse to let him give them a proper burial, Monroe decides he must, at least, recover the film, both so that the filmmakers' deaths were not in vain and also for their scientific and cultural value. Once again, he uses psychology to accomplish this. He takes out his gun and empties his barrel up into the air, then takes out his tape recorder and plays recordings of tribal chanting, which amazes the Yamamomos, especially the chief. Monroe gives the chief the tape recorder as a gift in exchange for the film and he takes it back with him... though not before he, Chaco, and Miguel take part in a ritual cannibal feast.

Once back in New York, Monroe gives a talk-show interview where he explains that the Yamamomos felt the film reels were a source of power for the Yates team. Because they saw him as being able to capture voices, they thought he could also capture spirits and would be able to exorcise them of any evil spell that had been cast on them when they killed the Yates team. Following that, the Pan American Broadcasting System asks him to host the documentary they intend to make from the

footage, but Monroe opts to actually see it before making any decision. He's first shown some clips of a documentary shot by Alan Yates, after which he's told that Alan staged the executions he just saw, having paid the soldiers who carried them out to, "Do a bit of acting." Then, while going through the footage with an editor, he sees how arrogant and conceited Alan and the others could be, as well as how unnecessarily cruel they were to the wildlife, including a river turtle, which they catch,

cut up, and cook, all on camera. As part of the intended documentary, Monroe attempts to interview some of the filmmakers' relatives and former colleagues, only to find that some couldn't care less about what happened to them. And then, as he continues going through the footage, he sees why they would feel that way, as the group is proven to have been totally immoral and repugnant, especially Alan, who staged a "massacre" of the Yacumos in the same manner as in the film Monroe was first shown. By the time

he's watched all of it, Monroe is enraged and disgusted, describing what he's seen as, "Offensive, dishonest, and inhuman." He refuses to have anything to do with it and tries to convince the executives that it must not be shown at all. After he shows them the last reels in a screening room, they order the footage destroyed, although by this point, Monroe has lost much faith in humanity and the civilized world in particular

Two characters who are only in the first act but who I'd like to briefly discuss, as I do like them, are Monroe's two guides, Chaco (Salvatore Basile) and Miguel (a total unknown). At first, Chaco comes across as a nasty asshole and is rather harsh towards Monroe, admonishing him right off the bat for all the equipment he plans to bring with them, as well as stopping him from helping their Yacumo captive during their trek, saying the native must know who's the strongest. He even goes as far as to

give the guy some cocaine to make him docile and unlikely to run away, before taking a sniff himself. But, as it goes on, you realize he's just someone who knows the jungle and sometimes has to force the idealistic Monroe to do as he says to keep them from getting killed or interfering with the "natural order." That includes pulling a knife on him when he tries to interfere with the adultery ritual, explaining that it would've meant death for the Yacumo native had he not gone through with it. He also senses early on that the Yates team caused quite a mess amongst the tribes, explaining that the Yacumos were practicing cannibalism as part of a ritual to rid the jungle of "evil... white man spirits." I like how, despite this, he comes off as calm and collected, even in hostile and tense situations, like when they first arrive at the Yacumo village and after they've seen the filmmakers' remains, going about his business and slicing a small stick with his knife after the latter. And he's very impressed when Monroe succeeds in getting the Yamamomos to trust them, right down to getting them invited to a cannibal feast and getting the chief to allow them to take the film reels with them. As for Miguel, he doesn't say much but you get the feeling that he's what Chaco was when he was younger, given how he knows the law of the land just as much as he does, although he's much, much calmer. I like how unflappable he is when he's trying to gain the Yacumos' trust by standing there naked and allowing them to shoot poison darts at his feet, and when he's showing them a switchblade in the village. Whoever this guy actually is, I also feel major sympathy for him in one shot when his eyes are bloodshot because he's been crying over his recently murdered father, whose funeral he just returned from. To have to go to your father's funeral and then come back to such a horrific, uncompromising film must have been really gut-wrenching, which is probably why his name isn't on it.

At the very beginning of the film, a news report on the missing filmmakers and the rescue mission plays the last known footage of them, as they prepared to depart from an outpost at the border of Brazil and Peru. They come off as overconfident, pretentious, and cocksure, answering the questions put to them in such a phony manner, making corny jokes, mugging to the camera, and going on about how they're so much better prepared than past expeditions that never came back. Later, when

Prof. Monroe is going through the footage with the editor, he describes them as having been "terrible prima donas," despite how well their films turned out. Then, as part of the intended documentary, Monroe interviews some of the crew's family and former colleagues and you start to get more of an idea of who they were. He first talks with a man who tried to work with Alan Yates but couldn't take it, describing him as someone who, "Pushed his people to the limit, demanding everything,

including blood. And talk about paranoia! God have mercy on his soul, he was one ruthless son of a bitch!" Alan's father (David Sage), on the other hand, seems rather shaken and simply wants to know what happened to his son. Faye Daniels' sister, who's also a nun, is the one who has the nicest things to say. She confirms that Faye's name was actually Tina and describes her as, "Very energetic. Very hardworking. Very ambitious. Extremely ambitious," adding, "I used to say to her, 'Do you think that you'll ever be at peace with

yourself?' Anyway, now she is. God rest her soul." Jack Anders' ex-wife says that, despite two years of marriage, she was barely with him because he was always on assignment, adding, "Yeah, sure, he was good in bed, but he liked to eat, too. No brains, though. Too easily influenced. Alan was his god, you know." And finally, Mark Tomaso's father has absolutely nothing good to say about his son, angrily telling Monroe, "My son is no good. He doesn't work, doesn't go to school, wants to lay around the house all day, and he's no good. Period." When Monroe presses him, asking what kind of man Mark was, Mr. Tomaso says, "My son was a son of a bitch, and he was no good. That's it. My son is dead. I don't want to talk about him no more!"

The Last Road to Hell, the documentary shot by Alan Yates (Carl "Gabriel" Yorke), where he actually paid off some soldiers to execute people for the camera, is the first hint that he was far worse than just arrogant and conceited. Once the footage he and his crew shot in the Amazon starts rolling, however, you slowly but surely see that he was little more than a psychopath with a camera. A complete bastard with no morals whatsoever, you see that he would stop at nothing to get the most sensational film he could. At first, he insists on filming stuff that's not likely to end up in the final product, like the butchering of the turtle, but does it simply because he can, and also makes sure get to a get good shot of a spider that ends up on Faye's shoulder before knocking it off, Felipe's warning that it's dangerous. Speaking of Felipe, when he's bitten by a venomous snake and insists on their amputating his leg, Alan makes sure to film it, proclaiming, "I'm gettin' it all!" This also includes their cauterizing the wound after they've severed the leg and their burying Felipe after he succumbs to the venom, with Alan giving a phony eulogy about what a great guy he was and how he brought them security. Even when they're crossing a river and a caiman comes at them, Alan is more interested in getting a shot of it than getting himself, and his friends, to safety. But where he truly proves how much of an utter sociopath and sadist he is when, after coming across a party of Yacumos and following them back to their village, he and his crew terrorize them and then force them inside a large hut that they set on fire, forcing them back in when they try to run. Just like in his previous documentary, this is a set up, later claimed to be a raid by the Yamamomos. And while the other two guys are also really into it, you can actually hear Alan yell, "It's beautiful!" at one point. As if that weren't enough, after that act of barbarity, Alan seems invigorated and empowered, to the point where he has sex with Faye right in front of the natives who managed to escape the fire. 

Following that, Alan, after he's seen peeing in the river, has them film the death throes of a woman who's dying by the river, as well as a gruesome abortion ritual, all while he goes on with his cheesy, insincere monologues about what he's seeing. But just when you think it couldn't any worse, they reach the Green Inferno and begin searching for the Yamamomos. Upon finding one, a young adolescent girl, he and the other men take turns gang-raping her and filming it for no good

reason, other than probably for Alan's sick idea of posterity. Later, they come upon the grisly sight of the girl impaled vertically and Alan, at first, smirks, as if admiring it. Then, when he's told he's on camera, he feigns horror at it, describing it as a possible Yamamomo sexual rite, a cruel punishment for being defiled. That would be bad enough, if their actions brought this upon her, but there's a popular fan theory that the impalement may have been the work of the filmmakers

themselves and that Alan was admiring his own handiwork before he went into character. Given what we've seen of them, it's not at all farfetched to consider them capable of this. He later tells the others to keep shooting even as the Yamamomos surround them in the jungle, exclaiming, "We're gonna get an Oscar for this!", and when Jack takes a fatal hit from a spear, Alan finishes him off with a rifle shot and they film his body being absolutely eviscerated. The only time Alan shows any real human emotion is when he becomes frantic over

Faye, whom he'd mostly treated like crap, being taken. Mark tells him they have to think of themselves and get the film back to civilization, while Alan has reached his breaking point and says he doesn't care. After Faye is butchered, Alan meets his own end. Fittingly, the last thing he sees as he dies due to his actions is the very camera that filmed the carnage he caused.

As despicable as Alan is, the other members of his crew are far from saints as well. His two cameramen, Jack (Perry Pirkanen) and Mark (Luca Giorgio Barbareschi), willingly go along with every hideous thing he orders them to do and seem to enjoy it as much as he does. Jack, in particular, comes across as a very disgusting and vile person, as he films Faye when she's walking around naked in the hut they stay at and when she's relieving herself at one point during the trek. He also has a

generally standoffish attitude (the way he spits at one person holding the camera in one shot always gets me) and is cruel enough to enjoy butchering the turtle, as well as shoot a Yacumo in the leg in order to slow him down so they can follow him back to his village. He participates in the murder of the Yacumos and the gang-raping of the Yamamomo girl without any hesitation, and clearly gets a kick out of it. When Faye tries to stop Alan from participating in the latter, Jack not only throws her off Alan but gets on top of her while his pants are down and he's covered in mud. Plus, in general, he just looks nasty to me, with that dirty blonde hair and mustache. I don't have as much to say about Mark, as he's not as prominent as Jack, but, again, he's just as unscrupulous as Alan and as sleazy as Jack, filming Alan and Faye having sex after the slaughter of the Yacumos. Not only does he do every horrible thing he's told to without question, he actually seems to be just as, if not more, sadistic than even Alan. He makes an excited, deranged face when he's holding down Felipe in order to amputate and cauterize his leg, willingly goes along with the butchering of the turtle, shoots the pig at the Yacumo village for no reason other than to dominate them, and forces the Yacumos to stay inside the burning hut, shoving and throwing those who try to escape back inside. And near the end, when Alan becomes hysterical after Faye is taken by the Yamamomos, Mark stops him from saving her, saying they have to think about themselves and get the film back to civilization, before filming Faye's slaughter, just as he did Jack's. You never see Mark's death onscreen but you can guess how he and Alan were butchered after the camera dropped to the ground and the film ran out.

The one member of the team who seems to have something of a conscience, or, at the very least, is actually affected by what they see and film, is Faye (Francesca Ciardi). While she does spend most of the film doing what she's told, there are instances that suggest she's not all onboard with what they're doing. She really seems like she'd rather be anywhere else than in the South American jungle; right before the turtle scene, there's a moment where she says that, if she were in New York, she'd probably be shopping. During the actual scene, she's so horrified by what they're doing to the turtle that she throws up, and she doesn't take an active part in the attack on the Yacumos. After it's over, she seems drained by it, and when Alan pounces on her, she initially comes off as unwilling before he forces her into it. She's also unable to make it through a speech about the dying native woman they find, as she breaks down and cries, which forces Alan to finish it. Most significantly, Faye tries to stop the men from raping the Yamamomo girl, and unlike Alan, she's not at all enthralled with the sight of her impaled corpse; the look she gives him while he's acting all horrified is another hint that he may have had a hand in it. Finally, when Alan kills Jack after he's speared, Faye really loses it and can't believe what just happened. But, despite all this, she did still go along with everything they did, as well as what they had done in the past, and her motivation for trying to stop the rape was mainly because they were wasting film on something they couldn't use, as well as probably because she didn't want Alan to have sex with any woman other than her (not too long before that, she tried to cuddle up to him while they were sitting next to each other but he rebuffed her). Whether or not she had a conscience, she probably gets it worse than any of the filmmakers: gang-raped by the Yamamomos, beaten to death, beheaded, and mutilated.

Poor Felipe (Ricardo Fuentes), the Yates team's guide, doesn't last very long before he buys the farm. It's a shame, too, because he seems like he was actually a decent guy. The only atrocity he took part in was the butchering of the turtle, and he seemed to only do it because they needed something to eat, although he didn't question why they were filming it, and smiled at the camera once they were done. However, when the spider lands on Faye's shoulder and Alan insists on getting a shot of both it and their disposal of it, Felipe tries to warn him that it's dangerous and asks for them to get out of the way so he can get at it, but he's shoved aside. That said, for an experienced guide who knew the jungle as well as Chaco, Felipe makes a really dumb mistake when he doesn't check his boots before putting them back on. He gets bitten by a venomous snake that slithered up in there, and after they attempt to cut open the bite and get rid of the poison, he tells them to cut his leg off to kept it from reaching his heart. Despite this, he goes into shock and dies, and they're forced to bury him in the jungle and press on. I have a feeling that, had he not died, he might've been able to keep the group in check and stop them committing their atrocities.

Some other characters I'd like to mention are the Colombian soldiers at the beginning of the film, particularly the Lieutenant, who could pass for Louis Gossett Jr.'s twin brother. This guy is clearly suffering from being stuck in such a hot, miserable place and isn't thrilled about helping Prof. Monroe in the rescue. When they first meet, he tells him, "All I can say is that you anthropologists, and the missionaries, are made out of special stuff. If hellholes like this didn't exist, I'm sure you would

invent them." Then, as Monroe tries to plead his case about how much he needs his help in organizing the expedition, the lieutenant takes a swig of a beer, only to immediately spit it out and exclaim, "A skunk must have pissed in that!", before introducing him to Chaco and Miguel. I also like the editor who goes through the Yates footage with Monroe, as he comments on what they were like and seems as horrified by their actions as Monroe himself. You also have the Pan American executives, who intend to turn the footage into a

documentary and air it as Alan's final piece of work. At first trying to assure Monroe that there's no need to review the footage, as the team knew what to shoot, they're not at all fazed by what they see during much of the second act. In fact, the one female executive (Kate Weiman) is downright invigorated by the footage of the Yacumo massacre, calling it "exceptional footage" that contains, "Such impact. Such authenticity," even though she knows it was a monstrous setup by the team. She then has a debate with Monroe about

how immoral it was, her stance being, "Let's be realistic. Who knows anything about the Yacumo civilization? Today, people want sensationalism. The more you rape their senses, the happier they are." But when Monroe puts the shoe on the other foot and asks her what would happen if someone did that her, you can see her pondering it. Even after that, when Monroe, after seeing the rest of the footage, vents about it, the exec passes it off as Alan having gone overboard, as he usually did, and assuring Monroe that the film is just a rough cut at the moment. It's only when she and the others see the wholesale slaughter of the filmmakers themselves that they order the film destroyed, although they did seem to be changing their tune while watching what came before, such as the rape scene and the impalement. And finally, there's a reporter at the very beginning of the film talking about the filmmakers' disappearance and the rescue attempt who I just wanted to mention because, I swear this guys looks exactly like David Cronenberg at that time.

If Cannibal Holocaust can be given any significant credit, aside from being the most well-known and notorious of the Italian cannibal subgenre, it's for, more or less, introducing the "found footage" aesthetic. It wouldn't become a true subgenre in and of itself until the late 2000's, with the success of Cloverfield and the Paranormal Activity movies, and only about a third of Cannibal Holocaust itself is the actual found footage, but it's the oldest film I know of that used the idea of someone disappearing or something strange and the answer

to the mystery being recently recovered film or video footage. It's also a big reason for its power and feeling of disturbing authenticity. While the first act with Prof. Monroe journeying through the jungle is most certainly realistic and gut-wrenching a points, because it's shot on 35mm and blocked more like a traditional movie, it's obviously fictional, a reenactment in the context of the movie as a whole. However, the crudeness of the footage shot by the Yates team, with its grainy 16mm, cinema verite look and feel, and its amateur nature,

with the constantly-shaking camera, frenetic panning and editing when things become intense, instances of no sound due to their not using their mics, and its sometimes looking darker than it should because they didn't have the diaphragm set correctly, make it feel real. It definitely helps make the violence feel more real. Instead of the camera focusing and lingering on gory makeup effects that could have easily looked fake after a while, you're seeing it through the eyes of a hand-held, jostling

camera that virtually never stops moving around and is peering through the jungle's thick undergrowth, preventing you from getting the best glimpses of what's going on. When you combine that with the camera being stopped and then started back up after some time has passed during a scene that's still going on, it's hard not to think that what you're seeing is real.

However, one thing that perplexes me is the movie's presentation. Like The Blair Witch Project, it seems to be purporting itself to be an account of a real event, and just like that movie, the marketing reinforced it. But with The Blair Witch Project, the whole film was nothing but the "found footage," making it much easier to fool people into thinking they're seeing something genuine, whereas here, all the material of Prof. Monroe searching for the missing filmmakers, his viewing their footage, and arguing with the executives about the moral issues

of showing it, severely dilutes the notion. While would suggested the film would better if it was nothing but the footage, I do think the other stuff is significant thematically, as it shows a decent man coming face to face with the ugly side of "civilization" and human nature, and also draws an interesting contrast between his treatment of the tribes and the filmmakers. But, like I suggested up above, are we supposed to believe the recovered footage is real and everything else is a reenactment, a la Unsolved Mysteries and the like?

I guess so, since the movie ends with a crawl stating that the projectionist who was told to burn the footage actually sold it, which is how we're seeing it here, but then, you have to wonder how such horrific material would be allowed in a general release like this in the first place (I realize it was a different time and Italy's standards and practices were nothing like the U.S.'s, but I doubt even they would allow actual, extended footage of people dying). And why would they allow the

same, disturbing music to be played during both the real footage and the reenactments? In the end, the only thing the ploy managed to convince people of was that Ruggero Deodato, a fairly well-known director in Italy, had committed homicide on camera. Still, maybe I'm missing something and the presentation is part of the film's deeper meaning about the media distorting the truth and I'm just too dumb to gasp the intricacies of it.

One thing I think Cannibal Holocaust does really well that I don't hear anyone talk about is "de-glorifying" the South American rainforests. The rainforest is often talked of and depicted as a very beautiful, magical place, particularly by all of the activists who strive to keep it from being cut down (not that that's not important, mind you), as well as in classic adventure movies and literature, but, while I won't deny that there is an inherent beauty to untouched, wild wilderness like this, it's hardly paradise. I think it's a combination of how it's shot

and the subject matter itself but, in this film, the rainforest, particularly in the Yates footage, comes off as very ugly, inhospitable, and savage. Even when something horrific or disturbing isn't happening, the grainy, scratchy, dark, 16mm look, which has a nasty green, yellow, and brown feel to the palette, makes the place look skin-crawling in its grossness. It also adds just a bit more of an icky feeling to the atrocities the team commits, particularly when they take turns raping the Yamamomo girl on the riverbank. What starts out

as a nice, grassy spot near the water turns into a big patch of thick, silty mud by the time they're done committing the act and they're all covered with it, with Jack looking about as brown as a chocolate bar. But even during Prof. Monroe's trek, which is shot on nice-looking 35mm, the place is not at all inviting. It's horribly hot and humid, the ground is nasty and littered with all sorts of disgusting bugs and other creepy-crawlies, and there are spots around the river that are nothing but thick mud.

That really is where it always feels the grossest to me, down by the river, which itself is brown and has a coffee-like look to it. And that's not taking into account the animal butchery, the depiction of these tribes who kill each other in the most gruesome ways, cannibalize each other, and commit violent sexual acts against women in both their own and other tribes, and the graphic, uncensored nudity. In short, this movie is anything but an advertisement for vacationing in South America.

Speaking of the nudity, I think that might've shocked me more than the violence. Obviously, I've seen more than my fair share of movies with some or a lot of skin, particularly horror films, which has subgenres where nudity and sex is almost a requirement, but at the time, I hadn't seen that many Italian horror films and had no idea that they tended to not hold anything back in other ways aside from gore. In fact, I was shocked when I watched the trailers before the movie (which I often do, even if I've never seen the movie itself),

and saw all the uncensored penises and vaginas on display, so I knew I was in for something pretty extreme in more ways than one. The question of whether or not nudity in a film adds anything has become a pathetic joke by this point but I think the unflinching nature of it here helps give the movie even more of an uncomfortable feeling, especially in how it's always done in ways that aren't meant to titillate, like the rapes, the infidelity punishment, the forced abortion, the impalement, and Alan and

Faye having sex right after the Yacumo massacre (it doesn't help that I don't find Francesca Ciardi attractive, so seeing her naked as much as she is does nothing for me anyway). I can also say that the sight of Robert Kerman wading naked in a river with a bunch of naked Yamamomo women joining him, pushing him around, and actually playing with his junk, was pretty horrifying in and of itself.

Among the many criticisms hurled at the film is the very unflattering manner in which it depicts various South American tribes, none of whom are actually cannibalistic, regardless of what Deodato claims. Of the three depicted, the Yacumos (known as the Carabayos in reality) come out looking the best, as they're seen as relatively peaceful and even skittish of white men, as seen with how frightened they are of the Yates team before they realize they have good reason to be. They're also mainly just victims of these intruders, unprepared to fight

back, and have to watch Alan and Faye have sex after many of them were burned alive in the fire they started. While, like the Yamamomo, this leaves them leery of Prof. Monroe, Chaco, and Miguel when they first show up, it doesn't take long for the men to make peace with them and make them realize they mean no harm. However, the Yacumos aren't all warm and fuzzy, as some of the group the Colombian soldiers come across have blowpipes with poison darts, and when Miguel

makes a trade for their prisoner, he gets various poison darts blown into the mud right at his feet (Chaco says this is meant to show they have good intentions, as they didn't blow them right at Miguel). Also, according to Chaco and Miguel, if their Yacumo prisoner isn't dominated completely, then he'll kill them and escape the first chance he gets. You also see how grisly some of their rites are, with the adultery punishment and forced abortion. And while they're seen eating human flesh at the beginning of the movie, you learn that it's part of a ritual meant to ward off evil spirits they believe are lingering in the jungle due to the Yates team's actions and that they're not actually cannibals.

The Yamamomo and the Shamatari, also known as the Tree and Swamp People, respectively, on the other hand, are cannibalistic and are shown to be at war with each other. We only see a little bit of the Shamatari, in a scene where Monroe, Chaco, and Miguel come across them preying on some Yamamomo women. They build a fire at the base of the tree one of the women has climbed and wait until she can't stand the smoke anymore and falls while trying to escape. The Shamatari are upon her in seconds, finish her off with some clubbing, and

carry her body off. The group follows back to a camp near the river, where the Shamatari are either raping the Yamamomo women or skinning their bodies. A group of Yamamomo warriors show up and the two tribes ready themselves for battle, when Monroe and his guides intervene, driving the Shamatari away. Because of this, the Yamamomos do welcome them as potential allies, but because of what happened with the filmmakers, they're still distrusting. They do allow the white men to see

how they dispense their own brand of justice, with the execution of a criminal among their tribe, whom they later cannibalize. Monroe manages to gain their trust, convincing them he has spiritual powers and thus, allowing him to take the Yates team's film reels, which they believe are evil and the source of their power. Watching the footage later, while the filmmakers took sadistic glee in raping a young Yamamomo woman, the tribe as a whole proved to be much fearsome and vicious

than the placid Yacumos. Creepily, you can see them watching the gang-rape from the tall grass, already planning their revenge, and they then surround the team in the jungle, able to appear and disappear within the trees and thick undergrowth. And once they decide to attack, they prove relentless, lethal, and also depraved, given how they gang-rape Faye before killing her, as well as how they utterly butcher, cook, and eat Jack.

I don't think I ever have, nor ever will, see a movie that's as realistic and nightmarish in its violence as Cannibal Holocaust. Just knowing that this was a low budget flick, coupled with the constant raw feel of the Yates footage, makes it very easy to believe that what you're seeing is the real, gruesome demise of actual people. Ergo, you can understand why it was thought to be a snuff film when it was originally released in Italy in February of 1980, with Ruggero Deodato's contract with the actors to disappear from the public eye for a year

only adding fuel to the fire. I have to say, though, that if you made a very low budget film and yet, had to demonstrate how a particular effect was done so people won't think you were a murderer, that's quite an accomplishment! Even knowing that no one was actually killed, the movie is still often very hard to watch. Besides what I've already, what makes it so effective is how it's not at all done in a cartoonish manner, unlike many of the other Italian cannibal movies. You're not watching close-ups of blood squirting everywhere, the tops of

heads being sliced off, or eyeballs being squeezed out of a person's head, but rather, very realistic, crude makeup effects that you're either only getting obscure, quick glimpses of or agonizingly long, drawn out sequences shot in a way that keeps them from feeling fake. While not as hideous as what comes later, watching those Yacumos eating human flesh at the beginning is still pretty gross, particularly those big chunks on sticks that they bite into. The decomposing remains of Felipe that

Prof. Monroe and his guides stumble across feels horrifically real, due to the details of the little bit of hair and flesh you still see atop the skull and the nasty bugs crawling through the eye sockets, and the hideous Yacumo punishment for adultery they spy on, which involves the woman being violated with a phallic-shaped stone and a mud-ball with what looks like crude nails sticking out of it getting shoved into her vagina, before her brains are bashed in, is unbearable to sit through. Sexual

violence, in general, is always hard for me to watch, and the violation of one Yamamomo woman by a Shamatari when Monroe and company come across a camp of them, as well as the drawn-out gang rape later on, are no exceptions, and neither is the skinning of the corpse of another Yamamomo woman. Honestly, the remains of the filmmakers are pretty tame compared to Felipe's corpse, even with the beetle and worm crawling through the eye-sockets of one of the skulls and the bits of rotting flesh still attached here and there. But the

sight of Monroe being forced to bite into a big chunk of human meat so as not to insult the Yamamomos is another story. Hope he enjoyed his meal.

But as hard to stomach as the first act is, the Yates footage cranks the horror quotient up through the ceiling. The crimes they commit against the Yacumos are repugnant enough, as is the scene of Alan and Faye having sex afterward and the aforementioned raping of the Yamamomo woman, but the sight of the dying old woman by the side of the river, breathing sharply and looking like she's rotting while still alive (I'm not sure exactly what happened to her but I've read that she could possibly be someone who managed to escape the

burning hut), and especially the forced abortion and the death of the would-be mother actually make me heave a bit. While the woman actually was pregnant, I know the fetus they bury is just a doll but, God, that is hard to look at! The film's most iconic/notorious image, of course, is the vertically impaled Yamamomo girl and there's no denying how convincing it is. If you look carefully, you can see the bicycle seat she's sitting on but that's probably the last place you're going to be

looking, if you're even looking at the screen at all. Besides all the gruesome detail the camera captures (though, I think the most effective shot of it is the first one, where it's in the distance and looks very eerie in a near silhouette) and the fact that the actor doesn't flinch or breath at all, just the idea of being impaled through the anus and out the mouth is a hideously painful, skin-crawling notion. 

And finally, the last five to ten minutes is nothing but pure fucking carnage. We see Jack get speared in the chest, then finished off by Alan with a rifle-shot, and his body is taken away by the Yamamomos, who proceed to completely butcher him. His penis is cut off (which looks far more realistic than I would've liked), his head is smashed open before being severed, his body is hacked apart by their clubs, severing his torso from the legs, and his innards and organs are pulled out and, along with his extremities, are cooked and eaten.

Faye is then taken, stripped naked, raped repeatedly, and beaten to death, after which her head is also severed. Again, you don't see what happens to Mark but you do see a shot of Alan's bloody face as he hits the ground in front of the camera and slowly dies. After all that, I was exactly like the executives in the screening room: sitting there in stunned silence, unable to say anything or even move. And if any of the images you've seen have made your stomach churn, just remember that this is some of the tame stuff.

What's ironic is that the "fake" violence is so graphic and realistic that you're probably unaware that, in the middle of the film, you saw some real people getting killed. No, Ruggero Deodato didn't actually get away with murder, but what he did do is package some real execution footage from Nigeria and Southeast Asia into the documentary, The Last Road to Hell, that Alan Yates and his team are said to have filmed beforehand. The length of the footage varies depending on what version of the movie you see but, regardless, what

you're seeing there is the real deal and yet, it's so "bland" compared to the rest of the violence that you probably wouldn't think twice about it. I must confess that I was guilty of this when I first watched it. I kind of suspected it was probably real, given the grainy, old "news reel" look to it and how the camerawork is even more amateurish than the Yates footage, but I was hit by a sledgehammer so many times afterward that I quickly forgot about it. Of course, when I later found out it was indeed

real, I was pretty disturbed. I've seen a lot of disturbing images throughout my life, particularly in high school, when we had to watch Bowling for Columbine on Martin Luther King day one year and when I saw an image of a monk setting himself on fire during my religion class, and while the level of how it affects me has differed from one example to the next, it's always disconcerting and skin-crawling to know you've witnessed the deaths of real people, either partly or entirely. And yet, when it comes to The Last Road to Hell footage, I sometimes wonder if I've become so numb to this kind of stuff that it took the horrific staged violence to really get my attention, something I'll elaborate on in a bit.

Carl Yorke said in an interview that his relationship with Deodato changed drastically as a result of the scene where the pig is killed on-camera, something Deodato initially intended for him to do but he refused; he then added, "The level of cruelty on this set was something unknown to me." That's exactly how I felt towards the movie itself when, on a fluke, I decided to watch it in its full, uncut form... something I wish I hadn't done. You're given fair warning by a disclaimer from the people

at Grindhouse Releasing that what you're about to see is truly horrifying and will offend you, but even that couldn't prepare me for the pure sadism that is the animal cruelty here. While all all of it was horrific and needless, the infamous turtle scene is what really got me and almost caused me to start crying. When it was over, I was thinking, "Thank God! God dammit, Ruggero Deodato, you're a piece of shit! You should be ashamed of doing something like this!" Now, I know that, given what

I said up above about being numb to actual violence against people, you're probably thinking I have some very screwed up morals, so I want to stress that I don't think animal life is more important than human life (remember, I've said all the violence in the film is shocking). Also, I'm not a fanatical member of PETA and, believe me, I'm also the farthest thing from a vegetarian. But I am still an animal lover and I don't like seeing them being tortured and killed, for a movie or anything

else, as the very idea has always ripped my heart out (and yes, so sue me, I am one of those people who's perfectly fine with eating meat but doesn't want to see how what I'm eating ended up that way.). I can deal with animals dying and being killed on wildlife documentaries and such, as that's just nature, but when I know it's being done deliberately by people for no other reason than sadistic pleasure or gruesome entertainment value, I pull the plug. It's why I always turn the channel whenever one of those commercials about saving animals from their abusers pops up. I just can't take it. 

Like I said earlier, I know Cannibal Holocaust is hardly the only movie where real animals were killed on-camera, as it's a staple of virtually the entire Italian cannibal subgenre, as well as many other films made in countries from from the Humane Society. Even beloved directors like Francis Ford Coppola on Apocalypse Now, Jean Renoir on The Rules of the Game, and Alejandro Jodorowsky on El Topo, have been guilty of it. But the way Deodato, who'd done this before on his previous cannibal movie, Last Cannibal World, aka

Jungle Holocaust, insists on lingering on the suffering of these animals comes across as particularly reprehensible to me, and it's small wonder why he ran into so much legal trouble (that said, I do also think it's unfair that Coppola, Renoir, Jodorowsky, and other Italian directors who had done this, like Umberto Lenzi, got off without so much as a slap on the wrist). And for what? It doesn't add anything to the film except, admittedly, helping to further blur the line between

what's real and fake, which isn't necessarily a good thing, as it reinforces that this is a horrific, nasty film by a man who's quite questionable as a human being. Deodate could've easily gotten across what he was trying to say without going down that path, especially since we engage in entertainment to get away from that kind of stuff.

(Knowing what a hot-button topic that is, I want to make it clear that I'm not trying to start any type of debate but rather, just giving my personal feelings on one of the film's most disturbing aspects. Plus, that's what I feel. If you feel differently, fine, but I don't want to see any comments taking me to task and calling me an idiot or a pussy for my position. I'm serious.)

But here's the question: what exactly was Deodato trying to say? He constantly goes back and forth about the motives he had for making the film: sometimes, he insists he simply intended to make another cannibal movie, and other times, he says there were political motivations and intended social commentary, and many critics and film analysts feel there is much to support this. For many, it's a commentary on the need for sensationalism in the media, with Deodato saying the inspiration came from the Italian news

coverage of the terrorist acts of the Red Brigades, which he felt had little regard for journalistic integrity and that some of the footage was set up. The hideous actions of the Yates team were meant to reflect that sentiment, but you can also definitely see it in the executives who really try to push their intended documentary on Prof. Monroe. The female executive's assertion that people want sensationalism nowadays and her excitement about what can be created from the footage, even though so much of it is horrific and unusable for prime

time television, is hardly subtle. But at the same time, as James Marriott wrote in that Horror Films book, Deodato may have been onto something there, given how, as I said earlier, The Last Road to Hell's real footage of execution is almost never mentioned, unlike the much more blatantly horrific content. (For that matter, instead of deterring you, the images you've seen in this review have probably piqued your interest in actually seeing the film if you already haven't.) It's also been

suggested to be something of a condemnation of the "Mondo" films, a series of Italian documentaries that were very exploitative in nature and often combined real footage with material that was staged for the camera, genuine animal slaughter among them (although he still shouldn't have done it, it's understandable then why, given how those films and other cannibal movies got off Scott-free, Deodato was surprised at how much legal trouble he got into for the same thing.)

However, a common criticism of these interpretations is that Deodato comes off as very hypocritical, as the film itself wallows in the same sensationalism it should be trying to condemn, with the long, drawn-out sequences of horrific violence, the cast and crew of the actual film adding shock value, which the Yates team are criticized for, and how the real natives playing the cannibals weren't treated all that well and were basically exploited. While it is hard to argue with those points, as the

proof is in the putting, and also because the film was sold on how horrific it is, I do have something to say about one side of this equation, as it's like my rebuttal of similar criticisms I hear leveled against Se7en: sometimes, you need to actually show the horror of what you're condemning so that the audience will understand. Again, that's not defending Deodato's horrific methods, as I still condemn the animal cruelty and his treatment of the cast and crew and feel he didn't need to go down that route, but I do think a measurable lack of sugarcoating is sometimes necessary. Of course, that's if he even was condemning the Mondo films; again, with him, you just don't know.

What I find more troubling myself is how, when it's all said and done, I come out of the film thinking, "Man, we suck as a species." This is a film that truly shows the dark side of humanity and the evil it's capable of, even when it's supposed to be "civilized." As horrific and nasty as the filmmakers' deaths are, they do feel like a comeuppance for the horrible things they've done, and even after they're dead, they've left behind an atmosphere of fear and distrust that's led the normally non-cannibalistic Yacumos to partake in

an ancient ritual of eating human flesh in order to rid their home of what they feel are evil spirits. The way the TV executives share the filmmakers' feeling of superiority towards the primitives is also very disconcerting, especially with how blase they are about the Yacumo massacre, and how it's the team's own gruesome fates that appear to spur their decision not to show the footage and have it destroyed. That said, the tribes are hardly portrayed as model human beings too, with their hideous ritualistic punishments and gruesome ways

of making war with each other, which isn't much different from what happens between modern, "civilized" societies during their conflicts. So, when Prof. Monroe ponders at the end, "I wonder who the real cannibals are?", it's tempting for me to say, "Both." Granted, the compassion Monroe and his guides (Chaco's no saint but he's certainly much better than anyone in the Yates team) show towards the tribes and how they extinguish the lingering tensions with gifts and by taking part in their

customs, however gross they may be to westerners, is encouraging but, on the whole, this is one of those movies that doesn't pull any punches in showing the atrocities that people, both primitive and civilized, are capable of.

The sad thing is that, if it weren't for all the controversy and its mean-spirited, nasty nature, I don't think Cannibal Holocaust would be any more remembered than Deodato's own Last Cannibal World, as it's hardly a masterpiece in terms of filmmaking and acting. Like a lot of Italian movies from that era, the dubbed performances are pretty stilted and wooden, with many falling flat, especially the woman who dubbed Francesca Ciardi as Faye (Carl Yorke is the only one who seems to have done his own dubbing, even though

you have other American actors in the cast, chief among them Robert Kerman). As for the direction and editing, while I can forgive the Yates footage for how it looks and sounds, as it's meant to come off as crude, there are some bad instances of cutting from one scene to another. For instance, in both the scene where Miguel warns Monroe that the Yacumo prisoner will kill them the minute they let their guard down and in the first meeting between Monroe and the executives, the cuts to 

the next scene are jarring and sudden, sometimes coming in before the actors were done saying their lines. Also, in both the real movie and the footage, there are blatant instances of stock footage, like a shot of a jaguar that Chaco supposedly shoots at, or when the filmmakers are crossing a river and they're attacked by a caiman, which is itself then preyed upon by an anaconda. None of these elements are ever in the same frame, and sometimes, the environments don't even match. And while the actual movie sequences are shot okay enough, there's nothing that amazing about the camerawork or direction.

The influence of the Mondo films is especially felt in Deodato's hiring of Riz Ortolani, who'd scored Mondo Cane, the first and most well-known of those documentaries. He actually scored it in a similar manner, using very upbeat and downright beautiful music to accompany grim imagery. Case in point, the main theme, which you first hear during the opening tracking shots of the jungle from an airplane, is a very beautiful, syrupy melody that sounds like it should be in a romantic love story, and its placement during some very horrific scenes, such as the attack on the Yacumo village and a brief moment during the carnage-laden climax, effectively makes them all the more unsettling. The way you hear it again over the ending credits, after all the horror you've just witnessed, makes you just sit there and turn the gruesome stuff over in your head again and again in a vain attempt to make sense of it. Weirdly enough, there are several funky, upbeat pieces of music listed on the soundtrack that sound like a mixture of typical porn music and disco but, other than possibly what you hear on the Louis Gossett Jr. lookalike's small radio, I don't remember ever hearing this stuff in the movie (maybe I was too shell-shocked at those points). There are some fittingly disturbing pieces of music as well, most notably this utterly apocalyptic bit you first hear during the adultery punishment scene. It's made up of very powerful strings and synthesizer sounds that are already grim when they begin but then crescendo into a very sad, almost operatic piece that perfectly punctuates the horror and tragedy of what's going on (it made the turtle scene even harder to watch than it was already). You also often hear this distinct "pew" sound that works much like the shrill, screeching camera noise in The Texas Chainsaw Massacre,  as adds to the uneasiness and makes you stop and go, "The hell was that?" The music that's first heard during The Last Road to Hell, which is also used for the scene with the impaled girl (another subtle hint that it was actually the team's doing), is another bit that's anachronistically mellow and relaxing, like the main theme, but the themes for the initial part of the Yacumo massacre and cannibal attacks fit perfectly with the absolute mayhem going on. It starts out with those "pew" sounds, followed by some rough, scratchy synthesizer music, and then goes into pure nightmare mode with loud, shrill, screeching strings that grow louder and louder, all the while accompanied by those "pew" sounds and some rhythmic clapping. Despite what you may think of the film itself, I think it's hard to deny that the score is truly excellent: beautiful at times, horrific at others, but always effective.

Whether you think it's a very effective, disturbing horror movie that has some interesting social commentary, or is just a mean-spirited, vile piece of exploitation trash, there's no denying that Cannibal Holocaust is one of the most powerful films of its kind, still deserving of its hyperbolic reputation, and is a film you can hardly be blase on. That said, my own opinion on it is still very conflicted: on the one hand, I appreciate it for how ballsy and uncompromising it is, how it forces you to think about things you don't want to, its unmatched realism, and its terrific music score, but, on the other hand, I feel that Ruggero Deodato really crossed the line with the sadistic, drawn-out animal killings and the film, overall, is a very unpleasant viewing experience that, when it's over, makes me think ill of the human race at large. Even then, I'm not exactly sure what Deodato was even getting at, and I don't think it's a flawless example of filmmaking, regardless. As much as I appreciate being challenged by a work of fiction, this one is a little too confrontational and grim for my sensibilities, which is why, now that I've done this review, I doubt I'll ever watch it again. And as for whether or not I recommend it, it would only be to those who think they have the stomach and nerves. Remember that what you've seen here is the tame stuff and if that got to you, you might want to steer clear; for those who do decide to check it out, I wholly advise trying to see the version without the animal cruelty (trust me).