Kichiku (1997) - Kazuyoshi Kumakiri

kumakiri was a third-year college student when he set out to make the most violent film in contemporary japanese cinema - a not-unambitious project, given that success would mean producing the most violent film, well, ever. and A+ for effort! kumakiri succeeds magna cum laude. born from a long-established tradition of unrelenting violence in the vein of miike, suzuki, etc, kichiku doesn't so much kick things up a notch as shotgun blast them apart. this is the most fucked-up film i have ever seen.

kichiku is the japanese cannibal holocaust, but perhaps more so. the black-flag characters are about as endearing as the cast of documentary film-makers in CH, and their political project equally admirable. and while i grant that kichiku lacks scenes of actual animal slaughter, there is something deeply nihilistic about this film that CH only irresponsibly gestures towards. it's not just that the cultural narrative to which kichiku belongs is unfamiliar, and thus more upsetting to little white canadian girls (as is the case with most tokyo shock and japanese cult cinema) - there are no fucking rules, dude. so yr left flailing, clawing at yr eyes just waiting for it to be over. but in a good way.

interestingly, kichiku contains the only moment in film my life would be better for having not seen.

Porno Holocaust (1981) - Joe D'Amato

in the early nineteen eighties the sex film industry, still reeling from its explosive 'seventies, was rife with cocaine and body hair. women were muffed, men were moustached, and everyone was balls deep in blow. pornography was in its heyday: black or white, dude or lady, solo or sex party - the "anything goes" attitude made for seemingly endless possibilities in the land of the lewd. all this is true of porno holocaust, but mere sexploitation was not enough for auteurs like joe d'amato. he had a vision, and it was bloody. bloody awful.

unfortunately, the preferred bodily fluid of this film remains true to porn form, leaving it somewhat lacking in the horror department. the "plot" attempting to link its various sexcapades is reminiscent of the creature features of prior decades, but without twists, turns, or even a decent kill scene. with underwhelming orgasms as the film's only attempt to climax, it leaves cult movie fans awkwardly unsatisfied.

bottom line: too much porno, not enough holocaust.