(1991)
Dir - Umberto Lenzi
Overall: MEH
The final horror film from prolific genre director Umberto Lenzi was Dèmoni 3, (Black Demons), which arrives near the tail end of the Italian zombie jungle knock-off craze. This particular entry takes place in Brazil and concerns murdered slaves who are resurrected on an old plantation by way of voodoo ceremony. So, that ole gag. There is not one original plot point to Lenzi and Olga Pehar's script which is loaded with boring young white people whose car not only inexplicably breaks down so that they have to stay several days at a dubious location the middle of nowhere, but said automobile also gets stuck in the mud to make sure that as many lazy, point A to point B narrative tropes are abused as possible. Plenty of other derivative nonsense happens and it is all conducted at a snails pace due to the insufficient budget, another Euro-sleaze staple. Speaking of, the acting is on par with the worst that such low-rent exploitation has to offer, but at least the gore effects are crude enough to provide some eye-ball exploding chuckles. Still, even for fans of gory, dim-witted nonsense, this is a dull affair that has nothing unintentionally funny to offer besides its culturally insensitive, alternate title.
(1991)
Dir - Maurizio Zaccaro
Overall: MEH
Written by none other than Pupi Avati and serving as the full-length debut for director Maurizio Zaccaro, Where the Night Begins, (Dove comincia la notte), is an uneventful, quasi-supernatural thriller that was shot at and set in Davenport, Iowa of all places. Avati's story alludes to more than is ever shown where a young man returns to his family home after his notorious father has died, uncovering a mystery as to a sixteen year-old girl that said father impregnated years before; a sixteen year-old girl who may or may not have stuck around living a clandestine existence within the house's walls. The mood is incessantly low-key which would be enticing if anything of interest happened throughout its ninety-three minute running time. Instead, Tom Gallop maintains pleasant relationships with a few locals and uncovers some vague, inconsequential clues that lead to a disturbing revelation that sends him into a mentally unstable state where he seems to regress to childhood, pretending that his happy family is all together again. The dramatic finale seems out of place, silly, and not well earned, leaving the audience with a sense of frustration for such a slow-boil experience that never arrives anywhere.
(1993)
Dir - Ruggero Deodato
Overall: MEH
Exploitation filmmaker Ruggero Deodato's The Washing Machine, (Vortice Mortale), is one of the more horny giallos out there, if not thee horniest. Based off of screenwriter Luigi Spagnol's stage play La Lavatrice, set and shot in Budapest, Hungary, boasting an international cast, and scored by none other than Goblin's mainman Claudio Simonetti, it concerns three lustful, back-stabbing sisters who individually seduce a police detective that apparently seems incapable of emoting. Philippe Caroit's aloof performance is one of only several naked ones and the opening scene where one of the siblings has angry sex with her pimp while another sister watches and plays with herself all sets the tone for many more perverse set pieces to come. Though Simonetti's score is excellent, it is more memorable than the film deserves as the story quickly settles into a convoluted and monotonous mess. It is obvious from the get-to that Caroit's character is being played left and right, plus the absence of the alleged murder victim's body all points to an easily foreseeable climax that is likely to bore any audience member that has already checked-out due to one ridiculous sex scene after the other.
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