HORNY HOUSE OF HORROR (Pinku)

“What’s that smell?” asks one of the drunken guys as they walk into the massage parlour. “Its natural, its generations of sperm,”replies his friend. “No it smells like dead meat,” suggests the drunken guy thoughtfully.

Surely that would be enough to turn heel, maybe conclude the night without a happy ending, but not for this sex starved trio. So in true formulaic horror movie tradition we’ve got a reluctant guy pining for his fiancé and his horny as hell perverted mates who drag him in to a sex filled gore fest.

They begin by choosing their girls. “You can finger their buts before you make a choice,” offers the manager as the girls stick their derrière through a hole in the wall. It’s sexist and demeaning, yet it’s approached with a pitch-black humour and gutter gore sensibility. Nothing is too much. There’s a real fascination with castration, not just the act of the chop, but inventive ludicrous castration scenarios that you get the sense the whole film is actually based around. Then of course there are the overly copious geysers of groin blood.

It’s totally seedy. By the time they’re pulling entrails out of each other it barely raises an eyebrow. It’s part of a movement of over the top gore and sex films of late, like Tokyo Gore Police mashed up with Sex and Zen. It does to cinema what Ramstein does to music. Takes things too far and then escalates. What saves it from being too much even though it is too much, is its attention to detail. For all its hackneyed plot and base humour there’s a real inventiveness here. Not to mention a celebration of all things wrong and bad taste. Do they live? Do they die? Who the hell cares?

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