darksurfer26
Member
12 messages
joined Jul 2006
I made a solemn vow to myself that I’d wipe this movie from my existence the second the credits rolled. Yet, here we are—it’s still sitting there on my hard drive, staring back at me, just waiting for another viewing. And honestly, I might actually give in. It isn't half bad, provided you can look past that one anthropologist who looks exactly like Super Mario and that atrocious American dubbing. Or maybe it is dubbed? Who knows? I often get this sense from Italian cinema that things feel unfinished, like they were rushed through a low-budget production with an aesthetic that just feels off. The soundtrack was particularly grating; it feels completely dated, like it belongs to a different era entirely. On the flip side, the acting is solid, and you have to admit the whole thing carries a heavy sense of authenticity. Most of what you see is quite real—take the slaughtering of the turtle, the monkey, and that little cute rodent from the Amazon. The shock we feel watching animals being killed is probably similar to how those creatures would react if they stumbled upon a traditional pig roast in the rural Midwest. By the way, that turtle slaughter is basically their cultural equivalent to our Sunday pork BBQ. In my opinion, a massive backyard pig roast is ten times more visceral than some turtle being butchered, and anyone who’s ever been part of one would definitely agree. Just as they consider a monkey's brain a top-tier delicacy, folks out in the countryside enjoy devouring sheep eyes. Ultimately, the shock factor comes down to these deep-seated cultural divides. As for the ending, it descends into pure, explicit snuff territory, though that "snuff" vibe bleeds through the entire runtime. There were moments during the film where I caught myself wondering why I was still watching, feeling like a complete degenerate. The final message delivered by Super Mario is noble and instructional, sure, but it’s incredibly predictable; I think I figured out the point within the first ten minutes. Some scenes are genuinely difficult to sit through, leaving you with a heavy, nauseating sensation in your gut. Still, I don't regret seeing it, because finding a mix of snuff elements, individualistic critique, and quasi-documentary style is a rare breed in cinema. I also have to say, it really bugs me when filmmakers try to dress up pure, inhuman torture as some kind of meaningful narrative. At least the Japanese are upfront about it; they have films like Guinea Pig where it’s just straight-up torment without any pretension of a plot—so hey, to each their own.
