In case the trilogy was not enough (yet) for
you, here comes the fourth chapter of the Vomit Gore saga: ”Black Mass of the
Nazi Sex Wizard”. The DVD edition, distributed by the Austrian Black Lava
Entertainment label, presents a very enjoyable packaging many collectors will
fancy: despite it has been conceived and introduced as a prequel, this new
episode can be seen either as a spin-off or even as a sequel of the trilogy,
which indeed lacked a narrative progression and a plot, in its initial concept.
As the director admitted, his movies do not aim to embrace the classic meaning
of a film plot: his intention is to disintegrate the classics plot sequence and
consequently lead a discontinuity in time and space vent to represent the
disruptive human condition: these concepts remind LaVeyan Satanism and director
Valentine enjoys blending them with the mechanical quantum science principles. This
might definitely be an obstacle for the audience but it remains essential for
the symbolic identity of the movie. Oddly enough, Ameara LaVey, the King of vomit’s
muse and life partner at the time of “Slaughtered Vomit Dolls”, a documentary
showing the porn star’s dark period of bulimia alcohol and drug, is absent this
time. Her character becomes Angela Aberdeen, a former abused child who falls
into a world of excesses and prostitution as an adult; during this process, she
meets Lucifer Valentine, an imaginary friend: this physical relation,
constantly floating between nightmare and reality, is shown as an infernal trip
through the camera. This trip changes its form but not its substance during the
three chapters. After a raw, inexpert (and wicked but perhaps more scandalous)
start, Valentine explores now the most mincing and extreme art house’s
territories. The following art pieces, “ReGoregitated Sacrifice”, “Slow Torture
Puke Chamber” and “Black Mass of the Nazi Sex Wizard”, propose a formal
elegance in terms of lights, instrumental use of colours, scenography, all
aimed to exasperate the cruelty of its contents. Who is well- acquainted with
Valentine’s eccentric works, knows exactly what to expect: naked women who
vomit, vomit and finally puke again. But the question is: what’s the hidden
meaning of showing (absolutely real) vomit for over an hour? It’s hard to say,
therefore for most in the audience the answer would be logic and easy: shocking
for shock’s sake. According to the director’s perspective, the act of vomiting
represents an inner catharsis which ultimately frees the subject from an inner,
traumatic and tragic dimension: perhaps a personal, subconscious
auto-biographical trait influencing the movie director’s creative stream
without really caring about the audience’s reaction. Watching “Black Mass of
the Nazi Sex Wizard” becomes more
bearable compared to the previous chapters
due to a less frenetic cutting (and in that sense “ReGoregitated Sacrifice” was
a serious offense to epileptic audience) and to a dooming and hypnotic
soundtrack gathered with the distorted character’s voices underlining their
sense of disease and alienation. Between one and another puke attacks, some
obsessive frames of beauty contests appear as a critical attack to sick beauty
codes imposing a twisted kind of perfection as a direct consequence of eating
disorders (bulimia in primis, a real
leitmotiv Valentine seems to insist on). We have Angela on one side, who is
totally succumbed to her master and to some evil forces but also a diabolic
epiphany of her female alter ego’s on the other side: women who cut each other
in a twisted mutilation game, who eat entrails to ultimately vomit them within
an empty corpse and other similar niceties. Special effects, on the other hand,
look rather fake and home-made but they definitely serve their dirty purposes:
it’s not a case that the best scenes are the real, authentic ones. And
obviously, we could not miss Hank Skinny, “iron stomach” who eats his own vomit
to eat it over and over again (a scene you can enjoy in in “Slaughtered Vomit
Dolls”): the disgusting effect is quickly over, as the redundant scenes make
the audience well-acquainted with the whole scene routine, becoming less receptive
and finally achieving the opposite effect. I believe that the philosophical and
pseudo-intellectual value Valentine wishes to transfer to his own project (if
not a gigantic attempt to fool the audience) does not represent an added value
but a useless hint to mask an abnormal sexual behavior (statistically speaking)
which inevitably becomes subject to the audience’s moral judgement. This is the
main reason why a vicious mechanism produces itself preventing the audience
from understanding Valentine’s contents and appreciating Valentine’s works for
what they really are: a disgusting, alienating trip with gastric fluids, blood
and paraphilia. Nevertheless, it remains a visual experience anyone who loves
this kind of “excess” movies should do, at least once in
a lifetime, preferably after a copious dinner.
Review by Cristina Russo
Special thanks to BeautyBeast for translation
