Movie Review: Demon Kiss (2010)

Aaaah… Demon Kiss. Our fine friends over at Brain Damage Films never cease to amaze me. All in all, Demon Kiss is an entertaining little romp on how not to make a horror film, in many respects, but it understands what it is so completely, you can’t help but take a shine to the poor thing. Self-realization is a rarity in the schlock horror world. Guys in Des Moines with a Hi-8 camera fancy themselves Wes Craven, shooting the latest epic that will take the indie world by storm and if you don’t like it, well then, you just don’t get it! Demon Kiss, most certainly, does not have that issue. Bad acting? Yeah, but that happens when your producer/writer/star has to carry the weight of the film on her back. Bad camera work? Definitely. Focus is sometimes overrated, though. Bad art/make-up/effects/etc.? Undoubtedly, but that is just the name of the game. What Demon Kiss does have going for it, though, which makes me think that the filmmakers knew exactly what they were doing along the way, is the copious amounts of nudity. You don’t go longer than a minute or so until some other trashy woman is taking her clothes off. I would actually re-title this film Demon Labia, but no one asked me.

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Our ‘story’ is a simple one. Crazy dude, D-Man (Vito Trabucco of Slices and Bloody, Bloody Bible Camp fame) orders a prostitute as a sacrifice to get a demon on Earth. Cool, got it. He bites it, of course (which is a shame since he was the only performer in this pile that actually brought some emotional context to their character) and the demon gets in a prostitute. A ‘prostitute therapist,’ yes, you read that correctly, played like Mel Torme on crack by writer/producer Sally Mullins is called in on the case. Her other clients include a prostitute that believes she is descended from Mary Magdalene and that is who the demon wants. The demon, in the meantime, can leap from person to person by kissing or copulation. It goes to a detective, then to a prostitute, then back to the detective, then to another prostitute, then back to the detective, then to… you get the picture. The amazing thing about it, though, is that I think the demon is the bad actor… not the nudie girls or the ineffective lawman. An equal level of crappy performance went from one person to another, which is amazing. All of this happens, of course, with varying states of undress for our young ladies. There was a cameo in there by FX guru Rich Knight, so he probably had a hand in some of the effects. That would make sense since there is a pretty effective broom handle in the arse scene, I know, and a choking on a hand scene that are quite nice… if you’re into that kind of stuff. I’m not, I’m just saying that, if someone were into that, then they would, well… uuh, yeah. Our climactic battle features the worst exorcism ever committed to film (including Leslie Nielson and Linda Blair in RePossessed) and our obligatory not-quite-a-twist-because-we-saw-it-coming-long-ago ending. Whew. Just repeat this to yourself: Demon Labia, Demon Labia, Demon Labia.

I wanted to hate this, but the damn movie just wouldn’t let me! It has some so ridiculous, but sold as dramatic, elements that you have to love it. For example, three murders, in a row, are committed in the same motel room. There are investigations of each in-between, but no one seems to notice that we are in exactly the same room, every time. Locations looked to be all one house with different areas as different apartments and living rooms and such. The therapist’s office is obviously a room in an Urgent Care, or something similar… just fun stuff. The best part of the ridiculosity, though, has to be Sally Mullins. Casting herself as the ‘prostitute therapist,’ Dr. Lacey, is a stroke of genius. She is not a good actor, but she tries so damn hard you start rooting for her… hit that mark, get that line, use that prop! Demon Kiss, my friends, is an experience.