Thursday, September 08, 2011


MOOM PITCHER REVIEW! BLOODTHIRSTY BUTCHERS (DIRECTED BY ANDY MILLIGAN, 1970)

I kinda get the sneakin' suspicion that you think maybe it was a little bit too soon to do yet another Sweeney Todd knockoff, especially after the all-time classic with Todd Slaughter way back inna mid thirties. Just think of it this way...back then the studios had a whole lotta censorship problems to worry about which meant they couldn't always create the hotcha gotcha kinda mooms we all know and love, and at least this rendition of the story  hadda whole lotta things in it that the original film couldn't have, like moan and grope love scenes, not to mention a whole lotta nice 'n bloody All-Amerigan dismemberment and skull cleavage with loads of blood pouring outta cracked craniums! And although some of you may think that movies were better off without sex and violence...y'know the ol' Michael Medved line about how great THE WIZARD OF OZ was and there was no sex in it...but frankly I would dread seeing a movie with a Margaret Hamilton nude scene! Even the thought of it is enough to send my grapenuts right back up to my ribcage!

Knowing Andy Milligan's typical output this is fine snazz. About two steps about the Kuchars, yet somewhere beneath William Beaudine. There's a slight home movie look to this, the same kinda ambiance you get in old Kenneth Anger films yet with the ancient stock music endlessly careening through the soundtrack you kinda get to thinkin' of maybe what SINS OF THE FLESHAPOIDS coulda been with maybe another fifty bucks added to the budget. But really, did any of that ever stop you from watching a movie knowing that whatever some big studio production could do horribly with millions, these independent guys could do much worse with only thousands? And it sure comes off a whole lot better in the long run!



But when you get down to it, BLOODTHIRSTY BUTCHERS does tend to snooze along in spots. I blame that on Milligan's insistence on a strong plot and deeper insight into his characters, something that doesn't quite belong in movies unless you're working under some delusion that you're trying to create some form of GREAT ART. At which point I say give up making films and learn how to paint pix of great looking nude wimmin instead. At least you'll be benefiting the culture at large, as well as the chances of some single-digit boys to sneak a peak in some classy art mag/book w/o getting yelled at for being sickos! At least the acting is pretty high school drama, which helps. Loads of young English snoots who already have the long hair and sideburns fit in splendidly with the antiquated look that this movie was trying to present, even if they all do look kinda like they should be performing in various local folk rock excursions like Steeleye Span or the Albion Dance Band. Maybe they were in these groups...oh well, I guess they hadda do something in between recording duff albums!

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