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(Trailer very much NSFW)

 

Bloodsucking Freaks (1976)

It can be a disappointing experience to go back and re-watch old favorites after a long period of time. Most films don't hold up too well over time to begin with, and years of overexposure to hyper-budget cinema can make those old, grainy, no-budget-whatsoever flicks look like exactly that. We also just tend to look back on things with more fondness than they deserve - I remembered the Groovie Ghoulies as spectacular entertainment until I scored up the DVD and discovered what a test of endurance it had become at some point between my childhood and whatever the hell I am now. All in all, pulling something off the shelf you haven't seen in ages can be a risky proposition.

Ah, bless ye Bloodsucking Freaks, ye are truly a wondrous thing to behold!

With that as a segue, a strange phenomenon surrounds this film in my case. I first watched it about a year before I was legally allowed to rent it and long before I'd learned to appreciate that which is truly celluloid grandeur. So I remembered enough to recommend it to some friends, but really didn't think about it much - just another screwball flick on my resume. Then, some ungodly amount of time later while browsing the "Generally Fucked Up" section of the local vid store I spotted it again and grabbed it, but somehow it got back to the store unwatched. Some time after that I found an ancient VHS tape for two bucks at a yard sale of all places, so I scored it up it with a "what the hell" attitude. Then I stuck it in the VCR and laughed myself into a hernia for the next hour and a half.

How in Lemmy's name did Bloodsucking Freaks lie lost and forgotten in the recesses of what passes for my mind for so long? I haven't the first clue, since I just watched it again for review purposes and an hour after the credits rolled I was still slaphappy. Anyway, this nasty little flick is one of those that I imagine more people have heard of than have actually seen, so for those poor unfortunates I'll provide a quick plot synopsis:

Full frontal nudity, thumbscrews, head crushed by an iron band, bullwhips, hand sawed off, eyeball gouged out and eaten, full frontal nudity, hot wax, electrified nipple clamps, full frontal nudity, dart in the throat, starvation, sleep deprivation, full frontal nudity, teeth pulled out, drill through head, brains sucked out through straw, ass darts, full frontal nudity, the rack, caning, the guillotine, fingers chopped off, feet chainsawed off, teeth kicked out, sledgehammer to head, evisceration, cannibalism, full frontal nudity, full frontal nudity, and finally a little bit of full frontal nudity just to keep things from getting dull.

Whew. Now that the plot's out of the way, we can move on to the filler.

A charming artiste' named Sardu runs a sex and torture show in an off off OFF Broadway theatre. Little does the audience know, however, that they're watching the real McCoy and these lovely young ladies are in fact being tortured and killed on stage. In his spare time, Sardu runs a white slavery ring, keeps a basement full of naked, feral women, and enjoys a healthy relationship with his assistant Ralphus.

Digression Alert: Ralphus (Luis De Jesus, his role nicely sandwiched here between The Anal Dwarf and an ewok) rules. As of this moment, he is duking it out with Puppet the hardcore wrestling midget for the number two slot of "My Favorite Short People Who Kick Serious Ass" (Phil Fondacaro still holds the world title by a clear margin). What can I say - it's always gratifying to see a dude who loves his work. Whether it's playing cowboy with a naked woman for a horse, dancing around gleefully as the Caged Sexoids fight over the raw meat he throws, playing cymbals, or getting head from a... head, the guy never loses his child-like enthusiasm. Seriously, the dude could give seminars on getting the most out of life. We can all learn a little bit from Ralphus.

Back to the movie. Natasha D'Natalie, our one and only female character with a name, is kidnapped by Ralphus and a fake hermaphrodite and brought back to the Theatre Macabre to star in Sardu's next performance. The script states that she is the most talented ballerina in the world despite clear visual evidence that she knows just enough to royally suck at it (this by the way is what we call an Informed Attribute™). Attempting to hunt her down is a boyfriend who bears an eerie resemblance to a G.I. Joe action figure both in range of motion and acting talent (I was picturing Duke or maybe Leatherneck). Moving in and out of the frame is a Slimy Italian Cop name of Sergeant Tucci, although you'd never know that by watching the movie. And there is a subplot involving a theatre critic who refuses to give the show a glowing review and winds up an unwilling guest in Sardu's basement-full-o'-fun.

In truth, however, there are only two characters in the entire movie that matter in the least: Sardu and Ralphus. Everybody else barely qualifies as scenery. We spend nearly all our time cuddling up with these two fun-loving fellows and growing to understand their wonderful relationship with each other. Not to be missed is a most touching scene in which Sardu rewards his diminutive assistant by allowing himself to be tied up and whipped by (what else) some naked women. Ralphus looks on with adoration in his eyes as we suddenly become aware of the intense and loving bond that has formed between these two kindred souls. A two-hankie moment at least, says I.

Now for a wee bit of soapboxing. Bloodsucking Freaks has been described (by Lloyd Kaufman no less) as one of the most offensive movies of all time. Now, I've seen one or two flicks that I consider genuinely offensive, and a few more that I don't but can understand why other people would (I'm notoriously hard to offend, myself). Here, however, I just don't buy it as the whole thing is so far removed from anything we would call reality that it's about as dangerous as a Tom and Jerry cartoon. Like those racist bits in the older ones where you just cluck your tongue, maybe think to yourself "that's not nice", and then go on enjoying the program. It's a cartoon, big whoop.

Bloodsucking Freaks is no less a cartoon. As an example, take the white slavery ring. Women are kidnapped, tortured, brainwashed into mindless sex slaves, and shipped off to service the rich and powerful. Ye gawds, how horrible... but let's take a quick look at the mailroom. For starters, a metal sign hangs from the ceiling declaring this the "Shipping Department" just so there are no doubts. A long worktable is covered with mundane supplies (for some reason I find the coffee cup sitting next to the strapping tape hilarious to the extreme, don't ask me why), and the room is filled with cardboard boxes marked with big "S" stencils, packing peanuts, etc. Our main man Ralphus is hard at work, chipper as always, filling out mail order receipts when a naked woman pops out of one of the big cardboard boxes. Ralphus skips over, boinks her on the head with what looks like a Wiffle bat, stuffs her back in the box, and slaps on a "Fragile" sticker.

Now come on... Sleazy? You better believe it, brother. Offensive? Please. This scene could have been dropped whole cloth into Airplane! and nobody would have batted an eye. It's an extended sight gag in a single-layer movie - if you find a message here, you're looking FAR deeper than the film actually goes, which is about "wet sidewalk" level. What you see is all you get, and not a damn thing more.

Fortunately, we get plenty anyway. We know exactly what we're here for and the movie gives it up without candy or sweet talk; naked women, over the top gore, and torture set pieces are trotted out at regular two-minute intervals, interspersed with general weirdness. It maintains such a maniacal pace that by the end you feel like you just ran a miler, but damn do you feel good. The unrated special edition director's cut now sits proudly on an honored spot on my shelf. Any film that climaxes with a Caged Sexoid cannibalistic go-go party is one in a million in my book.

Final Rating: Ah, those innocent, carefree days before boob jobs.

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