...stepping outside the box for a moment, so to speak, this viewer cannot help but express appreciation for the occasional 'curve ball', thrown my way, with regards to the eclectic variety of films, which are laid out before me, to review; proving an exercise in literary prowess, time and time again, it has taken a respectable amount of objectivity and open-mindedness, in critiquing such films...with a good measure of dedication towards...for good, or for bad, no matter what the subject matter is, or how it is presented...conceiving of what the filmmaker possibly wanted to do or say, with regards to the film, or films in question. With that deftly said, let's move on to yet another one of those 'curve balls', shall we?? And from the looks of things, this one ain't gonna be pretty...
...considering the minimal premise associated with "Surreal Sicko", this ready-steady viewer feels inclined to unconventionally portion, or ration out the threadbare storyline, get right to the heart...or rather, 'meat' of the matter, and pick up the pieces, with regards to premise, as things progress. Of course, taking into account, the exploitatively striking and lurid title of these proceedings, the harrowing synopsis of these affairs (...i.e., 'a landlord takes advantage of a tenant who is haunted by visions and suffers from mental illness and goes on a rape spree and makes him his scapegoat'), the DVD cover photo shots...even the initially numbing effect of the film, itself, post-viewing...this viewer admittedly had initially resigned this material, in much the same light as the similarly lurid, subversive and disturbing fetish-flavored fare, once offered by now-defunct underground video distributor Astaroth Entertainment, who amidst their smattering of genre fare, which this viewer more readily favored, in his collection (...'The Necro Files", the 'Faces of Gore' shockumentary series, etc.), they also handled the release of sexually sleazy and disturbing (...and that's putting it mildly) micro-budgeted flickage, depicting (...emphasizing the word 'depicting', mind you) scenes of no-holds-barred, extreme rape, forced asphyxiation, inhalants, mutilation, and anything else with similar shock value...
...but then, a strange thing happened, as "...Sicko" gestated, or better said, 'festered' in this jaded viewer's mind, for a day or so. Yes, in the onset, this disturbing little venture seemed nothing more than a series of nasty little scenes, involving a number of women, in various stages of undress and duress...sometimes masked (...with the masks looking skeletally 'Day-of the-Dead-ish', as if to introduce and engage a sense of death into the vicious acts), sometimes not...being sexually, sometimes violently taunted, tortured and abused by a clearly mentally disturbed assailant...also gruesomely masked...occasionally switching over to scenes, where the disturbed assailant...still masked...is instead abusing himself, or in dementive relevation over what he's done...what he's going to do...what he's compelled to do. But for this viewer, in the way that this unpleasant material was presented...it seem like there was a certain measure of manipulation at work, here...
...no spoken words...no clear identification of characters...it was clear that this viewer was forced to play the role of 'the landlord'...for the most part, never seen...in that these cruel, heinous and disturbing acts were being voyeuristically documented by 'him'...and yet, one cannot help but continue to watch. No hint of literary development or storyline...Why was this mentally unstable, darkly garbed character doing the things that he's doing...What was his motivation...his clear aversion towards women, and yet, his violent inclination towards them...Why is he drawn to incorporate a flavor of death into the demented proceedings, with the masks, or for that matter, an aversion/allure towards religion, with some of the scantly clad, even naked women, in some scenes, engaged in crucifixions...why, at a certain point, does it appear that our protagonist and voyeurist seem to change places (...the introduction of the heavier set assailant, later in the film). And yet, one cannot help but continue to watch. The potential feeling of guilt, shame and unpleasantness, washing over the viewer, in willingly witnessing these events with such a level of twisted allure and intrigue...and yet, one cannot help but continue to watch...
...in a way, as far as "Surreal Sicko's" underlining sense of manipulation, as well as the simultaneous repulsion, yet curious allure of the film's mentally unstable protagonist, this viewer is reminded of the scene in the riotous 1997 Howard Stern bio-comedy, "Private Parts", where the characters talk about incomprehensibly skewed ratings, in that there were high ratings with people who like Howard's show, because 'they want to hear what he's going to say, next'; but the ratings with people who hate Howard's show were even higher...why?? Because 'they want to hear what he's going to say, next'...
...to accent the nasty proceedings herein, a stinging medley of back-house industrial metal/death rock...for the most part, gutturally and gratingly rendered by a vocalist, spouting and chanting lyrics, describing death, anti-religion and black mass...only serves to further twist and skew the already darkly subversive and demented activity being depicted...and this makes things all the more repulsive, and at the same time, strangely intriguing. Clearly micro-budgeted, and quite laborious, as far as the film's 90+ running time, "Surreal Sicko" hardly makes for a pleasurable viewing experience...though not necessarily a 'bad' one, in considering the difference in definition, between 'unpleasureable' and 'bad'; Like driving by a highway auto accident, there is assuredly a measure of revolt to be engaged, in viewing this indigestible film...but damn, it was so hard to look away from...
...although not mentioned on the DVD cover itself, the inclusion of director Bill Zebub's 2008 'slacker' slice of life, "Metalheads" as a co-feature (...also with a running time, exceeding 90 minutes), rather than an extra, seems more of a promotional afterthought...just to get it out there, for more exposure. With somewhat more literary scribe, characterization and vocal rendering, than "...Sicko", "Metalheads" introduces the viewer to three nameless slacker types...a shiftless, out-of-work rock 'n' roller, his pestering girlfriend, and his best friend...also a shiftless rocker (...played by Zebub, himself), but gamely 'employed' in drug dealing. Bickering ensues, at the very start, as the girlfriend harps upon her would-be boyfriend, as far as finding a job...and yet wonders how in the heck he manages to get money. Unbeknownst to her, the boyfriend's fundage is derived by hawking videos of his sister, dancing and writhing naked in the woods. From time to time, his drug-dealing friend would come over, and while getting stoned, they'd dizzyingly waxrapsonic about rock 'n' roll and pop culture. In the meantime, the girlfriend herself would engage 'the supply', though amusingly...out of paranoia...would try to hide how the drugs are affecting her, though her efforts ultimately make her look even more out of sorts. These threadbare events finally culminate in tragedy, at which time soon after, the remaining players numbingly ponder, contemplate and self-relevate upon what has transpired...
...stretching the threadbare storyline of "Metalheads" into 90 minutes, most assuredly gives the impression, overall, that nothing is really going on, here...just a series of moments, loosely threaded together. Admittedly, there is a measure of appeal in these proceedings, in that it seems that this film tries to assume an emulative masquerade, a bit resembling a mish-mash of Kevin Smith's "Clerks" and Gregg Araki's "Smiley Face"; however, the final result seems much ado about nothing...a film that's all dressed up, but nowhere to go...and like "Surreal Sicko", the viewer is left with not so much 'so what?', but more 'why is it...?"...
...in the end, considering that the majority of previous reviews of both "Surreal Sicko" and "Metalheads", seem to rake the director over the coals, so to speak, this reviewer must candidly admit...for good or for bad...as unpleasant and shoulder-shrugging as this particular two-fer proved to be...that he nonetheless cannot help but wonder what director Bill Zebub (...his real name?? Who knows...?) has up his sleeve, next...
...Making a profound mountain out of an undeserved mole hill?? Eh, perhaps. Recommended for the curious?? Eh, perhaps...but least you curious few out there, not forget what curiosity ultimately did, OK?!?!
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