Sunday, October 17, 2021

general franco.

I originally (re)reviewed this about 2 years back in the hope of getting a shiny BluRay copy off 88 Films when they re-released it but neither them - or any other bugger - bothered to read the review.

So here it is again.

You're welcome.

Devil Hunter (AKA Il Cacciatore di Uomini, Sexo Cannibal, Man Hunter, Mandingo Man Hunter. 1980).

Dir: Jess Franco.

Cast: Al Cliver, Burt Altman, Aline Mess, Ursula Buchfellner, Yul Sanders, Gisela Hahn, Werner Pochath, Antonio de Cabo, Melo Costa, Robert (not the one from The Black Hole) Foster and Muriel Montossé.

Primark's most popular leggings model, the Lego haired temptress Laura Crawford (ball faced former Playboy bunny and Sadomania star Buchfellner) has everything - the prettiest frocks to the hunkiest boyfriend and the largest collection of slingback court shoes known to man.

The only thing she doesn't have (apart from any discernible acting talent obviously) is the respect of her long suffering assistant - the brunette bombshell Jane (the terrifyingly tight arsed Hahn).

Suffice to say that Jane hates Laura's guts.

Not content with venting her frustrations the normal way (you know, like poohing in her bed or putting itching powder in her vest) the jealous witch hatches a frankly bonkers plan that involves getting Crawford abducted then legging it to Rio (or Saltcoats, whichever's cheaper) with the ransom money as soon as the world's fashion photographers/film producers pay up.

Or something.

Enlisting the help of her bad boy buddies - led by the Skeletor like Vietnam vet Thomas (actor and art director, Cabo from the classic Aberraciones sexuales de una mujer casada - no me neither), they decide to forgo the usual kidnapping conventions of hiding the victim in a convenient bed and breakfast (or even a car boot) and take her to a region of uncharted cannibal infested jungle and lock her in an old shed instead.

They've obviously not seen the aforementioned Cannibal Terror or they'd have some idea - however vague - of how this might pan out.

It's not long tho' before everyone involved is bored senseless with playing Twister and charades  - and scuffing their elbows on the walls - so reckon it'd be much more fun to tie Laura to a tree and touch her up a wee bit.

Could her day get any worse?

Umm.....maybe, because it appears that there's an honest to goodness scary monster living in the jungle.

And by scary monster I actually mean a big black man, stark bollock naked apart from a pair of pound shop googly eyed glasses.

No, really.

The Devil (Altman, who does whatever an Altman can allegedly) as he is known by the locals, spends his days wandering around the jungle shagging then eating - or is it the other way round? - any women he comes across.

And I mean that quite literally.

"Are you the farmer?"

The scarily sexy cannibal high priestess (Mess from Diamonds of Kilimandjaro where she appears alongside the yumsome Katja Bienert) keeps the horny devil's libido at bay by sacrificing various buxom ladies to him on a weekly basis in a ceremony that is as intricate and breast obsessed as it is unnecessarily long winded.

Firstly she hypnotizes the unwilling victims with a sweaty lap dance before dragging them naked to a secluded lagoon where even more naked ladies scrub them clean and tie them to a tree ready to be diddled with  - in glorious technicolour - by Altman.

Which is nice work if you can get it.

Laura’s producer pal Brian has no option but to mount a rescue attempt and to this end hires hunky mercenary (and all round love god) Peter Weston (the legend that is Cliver) and his big hipped, manbreasted Vietnam flashback obsessed sidekick Jack (Foster) to fly in and seal the deal.

As opposed to clubbing it to death obviously.

Having a limited running time tho' it's not long before the dynamic duo are facing off against the crazy kidnappers in a pitched gun battle, unaware that the horny Altman is slowly moving in for the kill.

Or at least a swift hand-job off Cliver - I mean, which hot blooded male wouldn't?

After an indeterminable amount of shootings, chasing and gratuitous arse shots our heroes end up lost in the jungle (or the local garden centre, take your pick) but luckily find a mysterious - and topless - 'girl on a yacht' (bird-faced beauty, singing sensation and regular Franco femme Montossé) who, after bouncing about on deck (and on Cliver) for a bit offers to help our heroes in their quest.

Hugh Quarshie was suitably impressed with the brand new Ronco Holly Willoughby doorbell.

Unfortunately for all concerned time is running out.

It appears that Altman has become bewitched by the blonde Laura and will stop at nothing in his quest to vigorously plant his rotten zombie seed inside her mysterious - and scarily overgrown - lady garden.

What follows promises to be an apocalyptic assault on the senses that will shred your nerves and possibly more than a few boxes of tissues.

Laugh now!

After a girlie tiff with top producer Erwin Dietrich, Franco fucked off to the jungle in a strop and decided to film this masterpiece alongside the classic Mondo Cannibale, hence the appearance of the same cast, locations, shirts and obviously Caucasian actors blacked up pretending to be cannibals etc.

But whereas that movie has at least some redeeming qualities in it's (unintentionally) funny performances, Devil Hunter is played dead straight (tho' I use the word 'played' loosely, most of the cast look too drunk to do anything other than hopefully hit there mark and mumble banal dialogue that'll be overdubbed at a later date).

Even the usually fantastic Cliver can't save this one, reduced as he is to sitting topless on a boat, his hairy nipples erect and his luxurious mustache swaying in the cool breeze as he tosses bottles into the dirty water surrounding him, all the time looking like a condemned man praying for salvation.

Which, if I'm honest even he manages to make look sexy.

What a guy.

Always the auteur, Franco - in his infinite wisdom - decided to waylay the horror and violence and instead fill the movie with spasmodic zooms towards Buchfellner and Mess's front bums, hoping that these would stun the viewers into submission and detract from the frightening amount of scenes showing an Altman's eye view of a myriad of naked women of varied degrees of attractiveness running thru' trees whilst screaming badly.

Which is a brave move by anyone's standards and whilst the thought of Franco following a variety of European non-actresses around, concentrating on their ample arses bouncing about as they go may sound appealing after a while it only achieves the effect of making the viewer feel slightly nauseous.

And filled with the urge to tuck into a massive sausage filled burger bun.

Erotic? racist? or just erotically racist?

Saying that, if you enjoy Franco's work (which frankly we all do) then you'll at least find something to enjoy.

If only Cliver's comedy 'tache and Buchfellner's fright fringe.

Which is two more recommendations than you'd get for Sadomaster.

No comments: