Just how far out would you be willing to stick your proverbial neck for the people closest to you? That is the eternally taxing query proposed by the lucky flick of this month, 'A Serbian Film'. This is a die hard and exhaustingly savage response to the above outlaid question. The main man of this ruthless study in extremes is Milos (Srdan Todorovic), a one time adult film phenom now reserved to quiet, idyllic day passing with his statuesque wife and plucky young son. Still, times grow to prove trying on the family budget, this is Serbia we're talking here, not the most stable slab of earth in which to set roots in. Milos' nest egg once so fattened by years of studly on screen behavior is rapidly dwindling to a point where he can barely manage the funding of his little seed's much sought after singing lessons. A pity, such a growing dilemma this once fertile performer has found himself sinking into.
Enter a dear old friend and former porn flick colleague who introduces a potential savior into the mix. It is a suave and driven force of shady nature named Vukmir (Sergej Trifunovic), a well established (care of what, exactly, is never fully clarified) individual and would be smut peddler with sights set on absorbing Milos' well versed sex based skill set into a new and very clandestine project which he provides nil for plot description but ambitiously terms as 'artistic porn'. What this Vukmir has to offer up in return is a compensation package that will set Milos and his family cell up well beyond the extent of their lives. The potent temptation of this sudden proposal coupled with the rising depletion of confidence in his current retirement plan work this poor fellow's perspective in favor of acceptance, he signs his given name on the contract and presses on into what will reveal itself to be a very long haul.
The meat of all this business kicks in uneventfully enough, Milos arrives with nary a clue at an abandoned orphanage (a portent of future acts unspeakable? Hmmmmm, could be) and has only to wander in the company of a few stone serious camera men and bare witness to an eerie yet distant variant on the theme of mother/daughter discord. A tame if fitfully creepy warm up for what transpires to be an increasingly debauched and sinister lesson in total taboo obliteration. Because our intrepid hero holds no insight into the particulars of this skin-flick scenario he's jumped in bed with, Vukmir and whatever powers may back him (there is a suggestion of such, but, little more) are free to trample on his expectations and psyche with any manner of button pressing obscenities they so choose, and they do choose many. By the time Milos rises to his limit in relation to the fattening level of perversion, somewhere around the time a certain rough sex heavy set piece is revealed to be observed by a doll faced pre-teen (hey, even porn stars have morals, dont'cha know?), our hero decides to back track his way out of the whole deal.
At a sit down with the fiercely passionate (and more than slightly off kilter) Vukmir over some top shelf whiskey to discuss their burgeoning creative impasse, the director soars into a thick tirade that spans from basic disappointment (he lionizes Milos as an incomparable professional) to a metaphoric explication on how the work they are clawing at will serve to better this childish mess of a country they are stuck calling home. This banter leads in a roundabout way to a private sampling of what Vukmir sees as the next plateau in full fledged derangement, 'Newborn Porn' (a designation that should give the reader clear indication as to whether or not this film is, at all, for them) which finally sends Milos scrambling for the exit.
Unfortunately, all cannot end so easily after one toils this deeply in such a carnal hell. Milos barely makes it a handful of Belgrade city blocks before he becomes overpowered by some manner of drug (a cattle aphrodisiac, slipped into his drink) and when next he gains consciousness finds himself lying in his own bed, battered raw and dressed in blood. The remainder of 'A Serbian Film' steadily fills in the nihilistic details as Milos must weave together, in painful, unfiltered fashion, his absorption into an unprecedented sexual inferno suitable for raping the soul out of any living thing and believe me, many a living thing duth get raped.
You may ask yourself, rightfully, what would compel any filmmaker of even faintly decent standing to pull together such an over the top meditation on the reduction of the human mechanism to a lower than gutter level of behavior? Is such a graphic cataloging of multiple orgasms through bloodshed, torture tactics on high and cruel bodily defamation serviceable to any legitimate cause outside of garish shock horror disposability? Is it borne out of said filmmakers region of origin and the long lasting impact of the notorious and less than inviting antics of its late former president Slobodan Milosevic, alleged and/or proven to have a hand in a sad and prolific list of wrong doings, ranging from ethnic cleansing and all out war tactics on neighboring countries and his own civilians to enacted political murder plots against direct opponents or fools who dare to question him. The filmmakers have claimed the film as a direct mockery of commonplace cinema in Serbia littered with pictures that are moronic, sanitary and embarrassing in quality, my guess is it's the lack of gonzo rape scenes that set them off.
Upon its completion (and after a protracted hassle in getting the film transferred from Red One generated digital info to a 35mm release print) 'A Serbian Film' spent the initial run of its place in the film community as an outlaw product (in tandem with another area feature thing entitled 'The Life and Death of a Porno Gang', some kind of dodgy sounding beast I have yet to run my eyes across) either banned outright or truncated by censor groups across the globe (what sense does it make to carve out some four minutes of shocking shit just so a film can carry the commercial death mark of an adults only NC-17 rating? kinda makes no damn sense) and even inspired some countries to threaten the creators with serious legal measures even though the film (loaded as it may be with all manner of vile physical punishment for man, woman and child) is an official, staged and fictitious work with smooth, competent cinematography, editing and sound. The actors are each native professionals and give it their all with Sergej Trifunovic even managing to have honed his craft as a crossover into big budget Hollywood product like 'Next' with Nicolas Cage, 'Savior' with Dennis Quaid and the more current 'The Whistleblower' (these latter two also touching on the dark repercussions in the Bosnian-Croatian-Serbain vicinity). Director Srdjan Spasojevic has even landed a spot in the 26 part, fan boy drool worthy, omnibus 'The ABC's of Horror' alongside such esteemed company as Ti West ('The Innkeepers'), Jason Eisener ('Hobo With A Shotgun'), Xavier Gans ('Hitman') and Ben Wheatley ('Kill List') for starters, so the cat has clearly evolved accordingly to build on this ultra troubling but clearly not law breaking debut. It's all fake kids, relax, this vivid coital horror show is just that, a show, albeit like a long, penetrative 'Jackass' stunt where most of the participants are naked and never stop bleeding.
But if you're expecting otherwise, may I suggest sticking to some sweet natured Rachel McAdams bullshit or whatever the next Nicholas Sparks adaptation may be? Also, despite the impression my words above may convey, I still think 'The Human Centipede 2' is worse.
The home vid phase of the film's release has been similarly convoluted and controversial. The major way to view this thing is care a streaming link at flixfling.com and a DVD/Blu-Ray version of both the 103 minute 'unrated' and 104 minute 'uncut' editions (care invinciblepictures.com). Various other versions, most a bit shorter, exist at multiple places across the globe (excepting wherever the film is still banned, like Norway, damn them prudish vikings) but don't go searching for it on Netflix or Redbox, not gonna happen.
Now, would I sincerely recommend 'A Serbian Film' to just anyone? Only if I knew they were genuinely depraved or if I didn't really like them.
and also,
EXIT HUMANITY.
Epic undead chaos (please don't stop me if you've heard this one before) set against the thick of the American Civil War. As recounted via present day narration (by Scottish actor Brian Cox) from a diary by the story's ever embattled lead (Mark Gibson), a man bent more than all else on finding his way to a safe haven and maybe even discovering an effective way to stave off the plague of walking corpses that is feverishly ravaging the countryside (and are responsible for the demise of his dear beloved wife). Slow and brooding survivalist dramatics ensue, but while the reasonable skills of director John Geddes and a stable cast that reaps the benefits of such B grade genre brand names as Bill Moseley, Dee Wallace and Stephen McHattie (that one guy who always pops up at random and could be easily confused for a 'Millennium' era Lance Henriksen if one is not paying attention), the film sags and drags under the weight of its own lofty goals.
The 113 minute running time fails the homegrown, Canadian project in that it crushes what seemingly devoted performers and technicians are able to pull together with a lack of comfortable resources. They could have copped a few influences from our local 'Dead Weight' darlings who had the blessed sense to keep their somewhat similar, man against unnatural menace, concept to a right tight and to the point duration below the 90 minute mark (this somber zombie frontier thing could have thrived on a bit more humor as well). Mark it down as a noble, unembarrassing failure. Overall worth a 'don't go to far out of your way' look, but should have left a far deeper mark. Not a bad title, though. (exithumanity.com)
PROMETHEUS.
Visionary grandaddy Ridley Scott steps back into the sci-fi juggernaut that first cemented his big screen career. Established in and around the very same timeframe and point in the galaxy as the original, seminal 'Alien', Sir Scott seeks to both address oft pondered questions and theoretical rumblings in relation to this breakthrough 1979 effort as well as foster a fair share of fresh, thought heady concepts for the fan base to chew on.
With yet another polished ensemble in tow (including that original girl with a dragon tattoo, Noomi Rapace and one of Tinseltown's current, top shelf 'it' boys, Michael Fassbender, who gets to fill the android slot this time out), Ridley and his trusty script hands, Jon Spaihts and Damon Lindelof (the latter being one of the main brains behind the knockout T.V. series 'Lost' who manages to inject a sense of open ended mystery fans of that show will find comfortably familiar) set their cast aboard the eponymous space ship on a mission to assist two starry eyed archaeologists in their quest to pin down the ominous race of E.T.s that may very well have fathered the human race. As can be expected, especially in the infamously hostile environment of this franchise, things go quite horrendously awry of the initial plan. These nosy ass folks discover that the 'truth' of all things is not something warm and awaiting embrace and, in fact,is better left the hell alone altogether.
This being a Ridley Scott joint, several key customary aspects are accurately represented. The technical side of the show is sheer top shelf splendor, particularly if taken in in both 'Real' 3-D and on an IMAX screen (we've got one down in Milwaukee) they are purely magnificent (the Icelandic location work alone is enough to seal it for me). The old stand by of moral code verses weighty corporate greed seeps into the narrative structure as well with the ever scheming Weyland Corp. represented here by both the frail founder Peter Weyland (Guy Pierce, smothered in meticulous old man make up) and his icy underling, Meredith Vickers (Charlize Theron). Thrilling set pieces abound and it's for damn sure this quasi-prequel trumps anything in this series to come out the factory post-1986.
The road to the meaning of life here is peppered with many a sinister obstacle. Does mankind ultimately glean any true benefit from a meet and greet with its progenitors? From the evidence presented in 'Prometheus', not so much. Yet I'm sure there's a handy sequel in the development stage just waiting to address this topic further.
