In 1979 four documentary filmmakers disappeared in the jungles of South America while shooting a film about cannibalism... six months later, their footage was found.
Year of Release: 1980
Running Time: 96 minutes (1:36)
Director: Ruggero Deodato
Robert Kerman ... Professor Harold Monroe
Carl Gabriel Yorke ... Alan Yates
Francesca Ciardi ... Faye Daniels
Perry Pirkanen ... Jack Anders
Luca Barbareschi ... Mark Tomaso
Salvatore Basile ... Chaco Losojos
Ricardo Fuentes ... Felipe Ocanya
Ruggero Deodato ... Man Sitting in University Campus (uncredited)
A group of young reporters go on an expedition to the Amazon to make a documentary on the last remaining cannibal tribes. The group disappears without a trace. Two months later a team of rescuers, led by professor Monroe, is sent after them only to discover two savage tribes and their shocking way of everyday life. Monroe then finds the remains of the reporters as well as some filmmaterial with one of the tribes. Back in New York a tv-channel wants to broadcast the footage and Monroe discovers in what terrible way the reporters have died and also who the true cannibals are.
Cannibal Holocaust, remindin' us that anything can be a dildo if you're brave enough... or even if you're not brave at all an just happen to be tied to a tree where you're to be executed via snu-snu by some sadist. This whole movie is basically the way I picture every day life in a world run by Rick Santorum, but that's neither here nor there. An speakin' of a bleak, dismal future, I'm a little bummed out right now after what happened at my weekly conjugal visit with Phyllis Jablonski at the Soggy Valley Women's Correctional Institution. For those of you who may not know, I been goin' out there once a week ever since I watched Satan's Mistress a coupla years ago an realized that the only way I was ever gonna get over my repulsion towards rape scenes was to make like Lana Wood did in the movie an subject myself to it on a personal level until I was cured. Well, this week, completely outta nowhere, Phyllis broke it off. Our arrangement, I mean. She's fractured that other thing a coupla times, but nothin' too serious. I was just sittin' there mindin' my own business, baskin' in the nuclear pink afterglow, applyin' some aloe to my friction burns, when Phyllis asked what movie I was reviewin' this week. So I tell 'er, an all the sudden she starts tearin' up like an Oath Keeper at Charlton Heston's funeral. That hadda be the most horrifyin' thing I'd ever experienced in that trailer, which is really sayin' somethin', cause I hadn't so much as seen 'er express mild concern even when I got that partial concussion after impactin' the wall at 70mph. She said that if I was willin' to sit through Cannibal Holocaust with no concern for its horrific content that I musta gotten cured of my problem an that I wouldn't need 'er no more. I hadn't really thought about it that way, but it seems that somewhere along the line I must've evolved enough in my personal desensitization process that the only decent thing for me to do was to move on an pass Phyllis on to some other guy who needs 'er more. I'd never considered what it'd be like to hafta live without Phyllis after she'd been such an fixture in my life over the last 114 weeks, an to be completely honest, I have no idea what I'ma do to fill the void. I guess you never really get over your first abusive relationship, but... ah forget it, I don't wanna get all sappy an pitiful cause if I let this go too far people'll start bringin' over food like they did when I finally hadda park my '73 VW Thing out back for the last time. It's just kinda tough sayin' goodbye sometimes, ya know?
I'll be alright. Just gotta pull it together an deliver the goods on the most controversial movie of all time, no big deal. Lemme just... there, that's better. Was drippin' a little snot on my notes for a minute, but I'm okay now. Anyway, like I was sayin', Cannibal Holocaust is kind of anomalous with regard to movie trends, as the Italian cannibal flicks seemed to actually get better as they went along (rather than worse like their Nazisploitation counterparts), with Cannibal Holocaust and Cannibal Ferox bein' the best of the lot, an coming near the end of the trend. There's so much a guy can learn from a flick like this that compactin' it down into just three items is practically impossible, but I've narrowed the field down to the juiciest of morsels for your consumption, so I hope everyone learns somethin'. First, to make peace with a tribe of stone-age cannibals, one must first strip down to his manaconda an expose 'imself to relentless gropage by the nubile young women of the tribe. It's a tremendous sacrifice to a man's personal dignity, but one he must make for the good of diplomatic relations. Second, when cannibals invite you to dinner, spittin' an vomiting will not be tolerated. So if the chief offers to share his people platter with you, you eat them vittles up with the same kinda winnin' smile you'd expect to see on the face of an emotionally dead stripper. An third, you really gotta watch those native doctors, cause sometimes they get a little overzealous with their circumcisions. You're expectin' 'im to just take a little off the tip, an the next thing you know your snickerdoodle comes out lookin' like the remains of the courtesy candle in Michael Moore's bathroom.
But ya know what's *really* incredible about this movie, I mean, besides everything? Would you believe that in this stomach churnin' shotgun blast to the senses, I've discovered somethin' invented by the Italians that was actually stolen by US, rather'n the other way around? I'm speaking, of course, about the basic framework for Reality TV. Technically, the Italians had laid the ground work for this concept in the early '60s with flicks like Mondo Cane an Africa Blood and Guts, only those movies were, at least, mostly real. So the Italians took the next logical step an made a movie that was supposed to look unscripted an spontaneous, that was anything but. Course, the most interestin' thing about the situation is that this framework takes place in the confines of a movie within a movie, with the interior flick bein' from another sub-genre that the Italians invented (that we would also go on to steal an more or less ruin) called the "found footage" flick. In case that don't make sense, what I'm tryin' to say here is that Ruggero Deodato went on Maury Povich an found out that he was the father of the found footage film, an from there, it's only a short hop to what we now call Reality TV. This filmmakin' technique should've been hidden away like the monoliths in 2001 to ensure that mankind could only find it once it was certain we could use it responsibly, but no, oh no, Ruggero "Pandora" Deodato loosed the beast on an unsuspectin' world an now it's too late. He knew we couldn't be trusted with a gimmick of this magnitude, but he opened the box anyway. This is 10x worse than anything that ever came outta the puzzle box in Hellraiser. We're talkin' irreversible societal brain damage here. Just look at cable these days. Go ahead, pick a channel, how about Discovery? Maybe History? TLC? Three quarters of everything airin' on the network stations between 7pm an 11pm? We're talkin' Invasion of the Sitcom Snatchers here, an there're actually people who tune in to The Bachelor every week who think Cannibal Holocaust is hard to watch. Ya know how people in the movies're always time travelin' back to Nazi Germany an tryin' to kill Hitler? Well, if a sitcom fan ever gets ahold of a time machine they're gonna try offin' Deodato, even though it ain't *really* his fault. The point I'm tryin' to make is that, in the future, we gotta be more careful with this kinda technology. I mean, just look at what happened when McDonald's escaped the United States an spread out all over the rest of the world like a fat girl on a water bed. Consequences, people. Actions have consequences, an sometimes there ain't no crammin' that genie back into the bottle no matter how hard you push.
The movie begins with a newscaster talkin' about how you might think that with all our modern amenities we're gettin' pretty darn sophisticated as a society, yet, there're still places on Earth where backwards ass natives who haven't even mastered the concept of modesty roam free an make meatloaf outta each other. Then he shows us some video footage of a groupa documentary filmmakers (Alan, Faye, Mark, an Jack) who ventured into cannibal country even though the last two crews ended up bein' turned into nose jewelry, an tells us that the feds're sendin' a rescue team down to the Amazon to find 'em an maybe score some nookie from the tribe of single-breasted women from whom the region takes its name. In the meantime, a buncha commandos led by Lou Gossett Jr's B movie stunt double're pokin' around in the rainforest machine gunnin' natives with Moe Howard haircuts so they can capture one an prove that they've got jungle cred when it comes time to make contact with his tribe. Then, once the minorities get everything staged so the white guy (Dr. Harold Monroe) from NYC can swoop in an soak up all the credit, Lou introduces the doc to his guide (Chaco), who's got an attitude like he's been workin' the Wal Mart customer service counter for 15 years an's about one returned pair of stretched out, skidmarked panties from shootin' up the place. So the group loads up the native with supplies like he's no better'n a common Sherpa, an trudge through the jungle til Chaco trips on a skeleton an does a dental scrapin' on it to discover that it's the corpse of the film crew's guide (Filipe), an that Crest really does provide top-notch cavity protection. The sight of Chaco pokin' around in the guy's eye sockets pretty well puts the doc off his Go-Gurt, so now Chaco's assistant (Miguel) hasta track down a cute fuzzy animal an slice it from rear to ear so the doc won't have a buncha acid burnin' a hole in his stomach. Then Chaco gives their captive a coupla lines of cocaine so he'll behave 'imself, an the group gets movin' before Keith Richards shows up an tries suckin' it outta the guy's nostril. A few miles away, they happen upon this real nice fellow who's pullin' up onto the shore in a canoe with an impounded harlot, whom he proceeds to violate with a granite dildo an then club to death. You might say that he rocked her world, but I wouldn't, cause that'd be in bad taste. Kinda says somethin' about the doc that he pukes at the sight of a skeleton when he's able to hold it down durin' that scene, but I don't wanna go startin' rumors. Anyway, once the poor girl's been romanced by the stone, Chaco fires a coupla shots in the air to run the executioner off so he'll lead 'em back to his village. But before they can gain entry, Miguel hasta strip down nekkid an put his wangdoodle in harm's way while the first armored loincloth division fires poison guano darts at 'im. Fortunately, Miguel's a consummate professional, an uses his one-eyed friend to stare down the entire battalion, provin' to the natives that he's real macho, an gainin' the party access to the fun an games inherent in this here jungle.
Unfortunately, these guys (the Yacumo) are pretty much minor leaguers in the cannibalism game, so the group presses on til they find some Shamatari folks lightin' brush fires tryin' to hickory cure some Yanomamo babes out of a tree. So once the treed tomatoes end up as ketchup after impactin' the forest floor, the Shamatari sling 'em up like drunk biker broads an head for the river where the rest of their brethren're rapin' anything that moves an eatin' anything that can't. Then some Yanomamo guys show up with spears an they're really P.O.'d about the prospect of havin' to prepare their own supper when they see what's happened, but instead of lettin' the tribes polearm each other in the posterior, Chaco decides to score some points an starts blastin' Shamataris like cardboard ducks at a carnival shootin' gallery. This gets 'em into the good graces of the Fine Young Cannibals (the Yanomamo), cept their chief's so P.O.'d about what happened to all his wives that he starts slam dancin' with a hula skirt around his neck an yellin' at Inca Jesus to get it together an help 'em out. So to try easin' the tension a little bit, doc strips down to his great white hinder an wades into the river to frolic with all the nubile young ladies of the tribe an let 'em grope his groceries. Not sure if it really helped with the diplomatic relations or not, but it sure looked like fun. Then all the girls run up into a valley so they can bounce their bobbers up an down to try winnin' his favor, only they don't get very far before they find this morbid modern art sculpture that seems to be constructed from the remnants of the lost film crew, which pretty much kills the mood. The doc really wants the film canisters that the crew left behind so he can figure out what in the name of Machu Picchu's monolithic maze of monotonous masonry happened, so he decides to head into the center of the village an crank the movie's soundtrack over his tape recorder til the entire tribe comes out an starts partyin' like it's 1999 B.C. From here, it's simply a matter of splitin' some Shamatari leftovers with the chief without spillin' his partially digested guts, an tradin' the chief his tape recorder for future tribal dance ceremonies. So finally, the doc is able to get back to NYC where a group of big shot suits from National Geographic wanna turn the footage into a documentary for the doc to host. Only the doc is a shrewd negotiator, an he figures it might be a good idea to take a look at the footage before completely destroyin' his career, so he heads into a screenin' room to find out exactly what it was that he risked his groin grapes for. The footage starts out with the group's guide (Felipe) decapitatin' a gigantic turtle, before removin' the shell an watchin' the poor thing's legs kick frantically while it's guts spill out like the appendectomy ward watchin' a Cheech & Chong marathon. This scene's so disgustin' it'd make Shredder vomit.
Then things really go sideways when Filipe gets bitten by a little boa constrictor, only nobody seems to realize it's not poisonous, an once they circumcise the little booger they decide to chop Filipe's leg off at the knee cap so he'll be eligible for membership in the crusty sea captain's club. Cauterizin' it seems like it'd be purt'near like ringin' the dinner bell in cannibal country, but the only thing that happens is Filipe goes to the big safari hunt in the sky an the crew decides to go on without 'im. Eventually, they're able to find a few guys from the Yacumo tribe (who never seem to spot the loud, awkward, whitish guys stumblin' through their turf) slicin' the skull cap off a monkey to get at its brain. Then Alan gets the swell idea to hamstring one of 'em so they can follow 'em back to their village, where they proceed to execute some kid's pet potbelly pig an round the entire tribe up like a buncha cattle that're badly in need of brassieres. Alan figures just filmin' these folks livin' their everyday lives is gonna be a ratins disaster, so he has Mark an Jack torch the hut with the natives inside so it'll look like one of the more cantankerous tribes did it. This also has the added benefit of potentially lurin' one or more of the other tribes into the area lookin' for the source of the heavenly aroma. Then they head down to the river an video one of the broads they just barbie-cued an pretend like it's some kinda custom for the older members of the tribe to slink off an die alone, even though it's plain to see that the woman's only 27 an been turned into a deep fried pork rind. Next thing, they tape a group of anti-sex league bitches gathered around this woman givin' birth, who then proceed to confiscate the baby an stuff it into the river bank for the crocs before bludgeonin' 'er to death punji sticks. But at least she didn't get an abortion, cause that'd be immoral. Then the PBS suits stop the tape an tell the doc that if he can just get past the whole genocide thing an host their documentary for 'em they've got a sure winner for the CableACE Awards. Cept the doc tells 'em he still has a little thing called integrity that normally gets confiscated by security when you enter a TV studio, an that he don't care about becomin' bigger'n Marlin Perkins. The doc's P.O.'d, an he wants these turkeys to sit down an watch the rest of the movie, which resumes with the male members of the crew capturin' an violatin' the first Yanomomo chick they get their hands on, cause, ya know, that'll make for a fantastic bargainin' chip once the chief gets wind of it an decides to slice off their Oscar Meyer wieners an eat 'em while they watch. Then they come across some unfortunate native girl who musta been bent over pickin' a flower when she found 'erself in the path of a cross-eyed javelin thrower, who then thought it'd be real funny to stick the pike into the ground like a fence post. Fortunately, the natives've finally had enough, so I'ma cut the review off here just as the movie morphs into into Savage Streets, with the cannibals standin' in for Linda Blair.
Alrighty, well, everybody sick yet? I thought so. Cannibal Holocaust is prolly the most notorious of all the Video Nasties, and one of the few where you can actually understand why somebody with a God complex might wanna ban it. It also has the distinction of being one of the legitimately well made movies on that list, even though it's harder to sit through than an appendicitis attack in the bathroom stall at Tijuana Tom's Mexican Cuisine and Custom Pinata Palace. I kinda feel like anybody who "enjoys" this thing oughta have their voting rights rescinded and put under 24-hour observation, but you don't have to enjoy the movie to concede that it's very well done, and pretty original. I realize that at this point the "found footage" flick is really more of a joke than anything after The Blair Witch Project made a dump truck fulla money and everybody decided to hop on the band wagon, but in 1980 this concept was pretty much unheard of. Apparently, a friend of Deodato's wrote him a letter at the time telling him what an amazing movie it was, but that he felt Deodato might end up getting into trouble because it came off as being so authentic. Sure enough, the guy's premonition proved accurate when an Italian judge charged Deodato with murder and forced him to produce the actors from the movie to prove his innocence. He'd actually put a clause in the actors' contracts stipulating that they were to "disappear" for one year after the shooting to give the impression that the movie was indeed authentic, so needless to say, somebody got the impression it might've been real, and didn't think it was very funny. Deodato has since stated that he not only regrets the senseless killing of animals just for the sake of the movie, but that he wishes he'd never made it at all. That sentiment comes across as being pretty sincere, given that it's essentially his legacy as a filmmaker. He made other movies of course, including Jungle Holocaust, House on the Edge of the Park, Cut and Run, and Body Count, but if not for Cannibal Holocaust, he'd probably be little more than a footnote in the history of Italian horror cinema. I don't really claim to understand why all the Italian cannibal flicks felt it was necessary to feature scenes of real animals being killed, but just about all of them do. If I had to venture a guess, I'd imagine the reason was to get a visceral reaction from the audience and put them into a frame of mind where the line between fantasy and reality becomes blurred, but who really knows. The animal cruelty was pretty well established as a staple of the cannibal flick since Umberto Lenzi's Sacrifice! (aka Man from Deep River) was released in 1972, and for whatever reason, pretty much everybody else followed suit until the sub-genre finally petered out. Of course, the movie would have been banned even without it, because the simulated violence is no less horrifying to watch than the authentic, but whatever you may think about this flick, it was groundbreaking for the time. And for myself, of all the titles I've seen, it's probably still the second hardest movie to sit through, behind I Spit on Your Grave (1978).
Okay then, let's... ya know, there's no metaphor I can use here that'll end without me on some kind of federal registry, so let's just skip it. The plot is not all that dissimilar from cannibal movies of the past, however, the found footage aspect employed to bring us up to speed on what we've missed, was revolutionary. That gimmick takes what would normally be a decent plot and transforms it into something original, and even if you'd like to take every existing print of this flick and burn them in effigy, you cannot deny the significant contribution (for better or worse) of Cannibal Holocaust to modern cinema. The acting is actually pretty decent for a flick that was dubbed into English, although one could argue that some of the acting done in the found footage portion of the movie might've been made easier given the fact that the cast was probably going slightly crazy. I wouldn't say that it's the movie's biggest strength, but for a flick about assholes from the civilized world tormenting and murdering a more primitive society until the tables are turned, the acting doesn't have to be spectacular, because you're really banking on the plot and the special effects to shoulder most of the burden.
Here's who matters and why: Robert Kerman (Spider-Man, Night of the Creeps, Cannibal Ferox, Eaten Alive! 1980), Perry Pirkanen (City of the Living Dead, Cannibal Ferox, Cruel Jaws), Carl Gabriel Yorke (Idle Hands, Ghost in the Machine), Paolo Paoloni (Inferno, Voices from Beyond), Lionello Pio Di Savoia (Delirium), Luigina Rocchi (The Mountain of the Cannibal God), Ruggero Deodato (Lilith's Hell, Phantasmagoria, Chimeres, The Museum of Wonders, Hostel II, The Washing Machine, Dial: Help, Phantom of Death, Cut and Run, The Raiders of Atlantis). The remainder (and bulk) of the credits go to those folks who were paid to help us English speaking folks understand the pithy dialog, and they are as follows: Geoffrey Copleston (The Pit and the Pendulum 1991, Frankenstein Unbound, Robot Jox, 1990: The Bronx Warriors, The Black Cat 1981, Nightmare City, Eaten Alive! 1980, The Pumaman, Emanuelle and the Last Cannibals, Suspiria, Don't Torture a Duckling), Larry Dolgin (Acting roles: Leviathan, The Pit and the Pendulum 1991, Robot Jox, Ghoulies II. Dubbing: Endgame: Bronx lotta finale, Yor, the Hunter from the Future, 1990: The Bronx Warriors, Cannibal Ferox, Nightmare City, Hell of the Living Dead, Contamination 1980, Zombie Holocaust, The Humanoid, Ghoulies II, Don't Torture a Duckling), Steven Luotto (Top Line, Rats: Night of Terror, The Final Executioner, Extra Terrestrial Visitors, Escape from the Bronx, 1990: The Bronx Warriors, The New York Ripper, Cannibal Ferox, Nightmare City). Edward Mannix (Extra Terrestrial Visitors, Endgame - Bronx lotta finale, Yor the Hunter from the Future, Escape from the Bronx, Exterminators of the Year 3000, 1990: The Bronx Warriors, Pieces, The New York Ripper, Absurd, The House by the Cemetery, Nightmare City, Hell of the Living Dead, Cannibal Apocalypse, Contamination, Alien 2: On Earth, Zombie Holocaust, Eaten Alive 1980, The Pumaman, Burial Ground: The Nights of Terror, Zombi 2, A Bay of Blood).
Gregory Snegoff (Acting: Misery. Dubbing: Flight to Hell, The Blade Master, Godzilla 1985, Endgame: Bronx lotta finale, Yor the Hunter from the Future, The House by the Cemetery, Cannibal Ferox, Nightmare City, Hell of the Living Dead, Zombie Holocaust), Robert Sommer (Riddler's Moon, Rats: Night of Terror, The Final Executioner, Exterminators of the Year 3000, Conquest, Nightmare City, Hitch Hike, Don't Torture a Duckling, The X from Outer Space), Susan Spafford (The Tomb, Cannibal World, The Mummy Theme Park, Touch of Death, Devil Fish, I guerriera dell'anno 2072, The Raiders of Atlantis, Yor the Hunter from the Future, Exterminators of the Year 3000, Warriors of the Wasteland, Pieces, Absurd, Cannibal Ferox, The Last Shark, Murder Syndrome, Anthropophagus: The Grim Reaper, Hell of the Living Dead, House on the Edge of the Park, City of the Living Dead, Contamination, Zombie Holocaust, Eaten Alive!, The Great Alligator, Zombi 2, Torso, Don't Torture a Duckling, Blade of the Ripper), Pat Starke (The Mummy Theme Park, Killer Crocodile, After Death, Dial: Help, Vampire in Venice, Cannibal Holocaust II, The Barbarians, White Slave, Devil Fish, The Ark of the Sun God, The Pod People, The Raiders of Atlantis, Escape from the Bronx, Exterminators of the Year 3000, Ironmaster, The Scorpion with Two Tails, Pieces, The New York Ripper, 2020 Freedom Fighters, Absurd, Cannibal Ferox, Murder Syndrome, Anthropophagus: The Grim Reaper, Nightmare City, Hell of the Living Dead, House on the Edge of the Park, City of the Living Dead, Zombie Holocaust), Frank von Kuegelgen (Cemetery Man, Revenge of the Dead, Suspiria, The Tomb, Fatal Frames - Fotogrammi mortali, Killer Crocodile, Alien from the Deep, Hands of Steel, Formula for a Murder, Cut and Run, The Last Executioner, Extra Terrestrial Visitors, The Raiders of Atlantis, Endgame: Bronx lotta finale, Rush, Escape from the Bronx, a Blade in the Dark, Warriors of the Wasteland, Ironmaster, Manhattan Baby, The New York Ripper, 2020 Freedom Fighters, The House by the Cemetery, Cannibal Ferox, Murder Syndrome, Hell of the Living Dead, House on the Edge of the Park, City of the Living Dead, Hunter of the Apocalypse, Eaten Alive! 1980, Terror Express, Suspiria, Don't Torture a Duckling).
The special effects are actually a little sparse when you consider the nature of the movie. Although, the primary reason behind that is the fact that all the disgusting scenes involving animal slaughter aren't effects at all. That said, there are still some pretty good ones, including a decent severed leg, several rotting skeletons complete with icky jungle bugs crawling around in them, a charbroiled native praying for death, some convincing bullet wounds, a heap of guts (belonging to some animal), a gaping axe wound, and of course, the iconic native girl impaled on a pole. They created that last one by attaching a bicycle seat to the pole for the girl to sit on, and having her hold a small piece of wood in her mouth that was supposed to be the other end of the spear. The balance necessary for her to do this is really impressive, and while not breathing no less. There is one other effect that's likely to stand out, which was the "baby" that gets buried in the mud. Hard to say exactly what they used, but it looks to me like a skinned monkey (probably one of the two used in the earlier scenes of the natives eating the brains, which they really did eat, as monkey brains were apparently a delicacy for them). The only problem with whatever it was is that the skin pigmentation is completely wrong for a human of any ethnicity, and that's why I'd consider it a sub-par "effect." The shooting locations are fantastic, with the jungle scenes being filmed on location in Columbia and Venezuela. None of that 1950s/1960s bullstuff where a buncha guys wander around a set loaded up with potted plants, this was the real deal, and the cinematography is superb. This element of the movie is much more critical than it might ordinarily be, because when you're dealing with a subject like this you have to make the audience believe these people really are in serious peril, and all the scenes shot in the Amazon rainforest succeed in doing so. The rest of the movie takes place in NYC and isn't especially interesting as far as shooting locations, but that's not a big deal because the jungle footage is what matters, and they nailed it. The soundtrack, I think, is what really brings it all together. Because when you've got a movie as horrific as Cannibal Holocaust, nothing will destroy that hard-earned atmosphere faster than as a cheesy soundtrack. That's a complete non-issue here, as Riz Ortolani's composition is absolutely perfect. The somber, almost clinical tone it takes throughout all the atrocities being committed in the film makes for an amazing gut-punch for the audience when paired with the fantastic shooting locations. In my opinion, it's the best soundtrack I've ever heard in an Italian movie, bar none. Overall, Cannibal Holocaust probably won't be a flick you watch on a yearly basis, but it's very competently made, and one of only a few heavily hyped movies that actually lives up to its grisly reputation. It's also not the kind of movie you can recommend, because it's so graphic that a person really has to decide for themselves whether or not to see what all the hype is about. Just know that if you make that choice, you may not be the same afterwards.