DVD Review: Taste of Flesh
Taste of Flesh (2008)
Studio: Brain Damage Films
DVD Release Date: October 12 2009
Directed by: Christopher D Grace
Starring: Nathan Todaro, Mary Avelis, Ashley Brightwell, Cory J Grace, Victoria Robbins
Reviewed by: Ben Bussey
Oh my poor, jaded heart, what a minefield it is watching low budget horror movies. How strenuously we endeavour to find the lost gems, brushed under the cinematic-cultural carpet. How often we demonise the mainstream as this sprawling, mindless Lovecraftian monstrosity that envelops us all and sucks away all that is creative, inventive and unique. How, by contrast, we celebrate the independent, which by its very definition we regard as the realm of the pure, the undiluted, the unrestrained creative spirit. And oh, on those occasions when we truly find such a spirit in an underfunded indie horror movie, what a feeling it is. What a sense of validation it gives us as devotees of a genre that is so often misunderstood, lambasted and made a scapegoat of by the conservative media.
However, when we see a low-to-no budget horror movie that doesn’t fulfil this criteria… well, that’s another matter entirely. And while I rather doubt that Taste of Flesh will be the focus of much media outrage given what a tiny audience it is likely to reach, if it were to inspire headlines screaming BAN THIS SICK FILTH! I would be in absolute agreement. Just perhaps not for the same reasons.
I wouldn’t ban Taste of Flesh because of any concerns that it may be sadistic, misogynistic, nihilistic and/or undermining of family values or some such shit. No, I’d ban Taste of Flesh for the simple reason that it is quite possibly the most pathetic, inept, soul-destroyingly awful piece of filmmaking it has ever been my misfortune to witness.
I’ll try to surmise the plot simply, which really won’t be difficult given the utter inanity of proceedings: four college girls, portrayed by four of the least charismatic excuses for actresses I’ve ever encountered, decide to go to a rave. They get dressed. In so doing we see a couple of them semi-naked for a few seconds. Believe it or not, even that wasn’t enough to pique my interest. Then they go to the rave. Only it isn’t a rave. There’s no one else there. They’re locked in a warehouse with a couple of lame Saw/Hostel wannabes who intend to chop them up and cook them. Oh yeah, and there are a couple of the least likely looking cops in cinema history who just happen to be sat in a car on a stakeout nearby. Gee, I wonder if they might somehow get in on the action.
But a derivative set-up is one thing; it needn’t be that big a handicap. Paying attention to the basics of good screenwriting will be enough to overcome that. But – wait, no, strike two, Taste of Flesh plays like it was written by a thirteen year-old boy in a thirty minute interval between playing World of Warcraft and tugging one out to the Paris Hilton tape. And the final masterstroke – to shoot the whole thing on a home camcorder that’s not even fit to record your cousin’s wedding, with a microphone that wouldn’t hear a dog barking two feet away.
I don’t think there’s much ambiguity in what I’ve just written, but just to make sure, take my final word: Taste of Flesh has absolutely no redeeming qualities whatsoever. Avoid like the plague. In fact, if you find yourself in a tight spot where there’s a copy of Taste of Flesh on one side and the plague on the other, then you go right ahead and embrace that plague with open arms. Better that than the alternative, believe me.
Brutal As Hell rating: -1 out of 5
