Diminutive and marred by sleepiness, the July 22 line-up started rather late, at 21h25 t0 be exact. Maybe I should've packed one or two additional films to that line-up so I didn't end up drinking beer for the most part of the evening, arriving half-drunk at the theater, in which I soon caved in to the pressing need to slumber. Actually, the first film wasn't so bad, unoriginal sure, but rather involving and well directed. If it hadn't been for the mind-boggling conclusion, in which we have to reconcile with a murderous pedophile when he is shown as a poor lonesome soul who just longs for a friend, I might have dug it wholeheartedly instead of just a bit. But still today, I can't buy the idea according to which we should feel anything other than contempt for pedophiles. Sure, one can try and understand their alienation from society at large, but there are limits to inclusion, especially if this means disregarding the fate of a dead girl, or any other broken child who should naturally be entitled to innocence.
Luckily for me, there wasn't any pedophile in the second film. Castrating she-wolves, sure. But no real monsters. Still, the film was a far cry from what I had expected, and from the mythology I had elaborated around Canadian exploitation queen Ilsa, whose exploits I had yet to admire. So it was with a content heart that I prepared for the screening from the back row of the theater, enjoying the ample leg space and the rigid chair which I thought would keep me awake for the full duration of the film. But which didn't. Not that I mind, for those moments where my eyes automatically shut close were not unhappy, or frustrating ones, as they had been during the first screenings. No. They were mere breaks from watching the film, during which I could enjoy myself... marginally so, considering the environmental conditions, but more than I would've, had I fully followed the narrative strain, punctuated as it were by extravagant moments of cartoon villainy and futile attempts at exceeding the dramatic boundaries of exploitation fare.
FILMS SEEN
The Silence
Title refers to the aftermath of a brutal rape/murder perpetrated on a teenage girl from a small German town and left unsolved for the better of 23 years. It also refers to the estrangement of two friends tightly involved in the crime. Impeccable cinematography is the main asset of this surprising crime drama cleverly laced with flashbacks from a simpler time. Unfortunately, while the narrative takes just enough detours to keep you guessing about the murderer's motives, it halts suddenly with an offensive, hardly convincing conclusion that will likely leave the viewer aghast. Some solid, inspired direction makes it recommended viewing nonetheless.
THUMBS UP
Ilsa: She Wolf of the SS
What can one say about this seminal exploitation film which hasn't been said a thousand times before? For those unfamiliar with the busty titular dominatrix, let us shape a brief synopsis of this, her first of many screen adventures, each pertaining to a specific, if always obvious fetish (stalags, gulags, harems or asylums). Here, llsa is exactly what the title suggests, a domineering SS officer testing tolerance to pain amongst naked, nubile girls. At night, after a hard day's work probing the bodies of her inmates, she summons male prisoners to her quarters, which she promptly castrates when they fail to fulfill her voracious sexual appetite. That is until a particularly gifted American POW comes along and changes everything.
While it might appear like loads and loads of fun, over-sized breasts and electrified dildos can only do so much to propel a dry, witless drama such as this. And I use the word 'drama' willingly, as the film takes a straight-faced narrative approach that hardly befits its material. Tame by today's standards, Ilsa has little redeeming values save for a few unintentional laughs and some female nudity. I guess the film is a worthy substitute to porn for those who wish to enjoy tits on the big screen, but are repulsed by the sticky seats of Cinéma L'Amour...
What can one say about this seminal exploitation film which hasn't been said a thousand times before? For those unfamiliar with the busty titular dominatrix, let us shape a brief synopsis of this, her first of many screen adventures, each pertaining to a specific, if always obvious fetish (stalags, gulags, harems or asylums). Here, llsa is exactly what the title suggests, a domineering SS officer testing tolerance to pain amongst naked, nubile girls. At night, after a hard day's work probing the bodies of her inmates, she summons male prisoners to her quarters, which she promptly castrates when they fail to fulfill her voracious sexual appetite. That is until a particularly gifted American POW comes along and changes everything.
While it might appear like loads and loads of fun, over-sized breasts and electrified dildos can only do so much to propel a dry, witless drama such as this. And I use the word 'drama' willingly, as the film takes a straight-faced narrative approach that hardly befits its material. Tame by today's standards, Ilsa has little redeeming values save for a few unintentional laughs and some female nudity. I guess the film is a worthy substitute to porn for those who wish to enjoy tits on the big screen, but are repulsed by the sticky seats of Cinéma L'Amour...
THUMBS DOWN
