Text © Richard Gary / Indie Horror Films,
2018
Images from the Internet
Red Krokodil: Director’s Cut
Directed and cinematography by
Domiziano Cristopharo
The Enchanted
Architect / Unearthed Films / MVD Visual
80
minutes, 2012 / 2018
I
saw the first two films that Domiziano Cristopharo directed, House of Flesh Mannequins (2009) and The Museum of Wonders (2010). He’s
released at least 20 since then, so I was curious. His style is very artistic
and precise, so after nearly a decade, I’m glad to have the opportunity to see what this Italy-based
artiste was working on – even if this film is five years old, though now it’s getting
a new Blu-ray release.
As
the opening title card tells us (and I am abbreviating a lot), Desomorphine, a real opioid drug that originated in the US in the early 1930s and is now made
and used recreationally in Russia, Produced in this way, it’s made of corrosive
materials mixed with Codeine from over the counter products, and is nicknamed “krokodil”
due to the blistering skin around injection sites.
At a
snail’s pace, we meet Him (Brock Madson). He’s a mess on so many levels, spiritually
and physically. His clothes (when he’s wearing them) are filthy, including dark
stains on the bottom of his untidy whiteys, there is what looks like mold
everywhere, he is unwashed and unkempt, and is missing his two front teef.
We
watch much of what happens to him, as he repeatedly gives himself shots from
the same needle, goes through withdrawals until the next injection, and
segments of overseeing him fitfully sleeping. The viewer gets the feeling of claustrophobia
as he moves around his small room; he is practically the personification of the
description of the Divinyls song, “Elsie.”
While
filmed in Italy, this takes place in Russia; however, the inner monologs we
hear are in English. Because of his drug addled mental state, we get to share
what he sees, be it a giant Bunny Man (Viktor Karam) or a bandage swathed Monster
(Valerio Cassa), who are the only other characters in the film, albeit in brief
snatches.
The
only dialog we hear other than grunts and groans is Him’s inner thoughts, which
are usually a mixture of stories of his life (e.g., why a stuffed crocodile is
important to him), a description of his dream visions, or philosophizing about
his hallucinations. One example is when he sees
a mannequin face inside a hole in the wall, part of his existentialist treatise as he smiles is,
“God is watching me inside the eye; the whole universe is inside the eye. Even
I am inside the eye.”
Either
because of the corrosive effect of the krokodil drug, or perhaps what is going
on inside his mind (or both), his body is full of gross scabs and abscesses
that we see in detail. Him is convinced he lives in a post-apocalyptic world,
and perhaps he is, which would explain the lack of people in part, but he never
ventures from his hovel. How much of it is in his mind and what reality is mostly
up to the viewer.
Despite
all the grossness of picking at the wearing down of the flesh, this is definitely
in the category of art film. Sure, you may not see it on IFC due to its visual
content, but philosophically and stylistically, it would actually be quite comfortable
there.
Most
of the time the color is drained out of the image we see, as it is missing from
Him’s life; it’s only when we see him roaming around in nature (again, nude),
do we see a natural hue of any time. The sharp contrast is alarming, and shows
the levels to which Him has sunken – again, both spiritually and physically.
This
is not exactly what one might call the
feel good movie of the year, but it is a poetic and disarming – and sometimes
visually stunning – vision of what I would imagine being desperately addicted
to something that harsh to the body (I’m pretty straight-edge).
Madson
co-produced the film, and he certainly gives a full emotional range, much of it
without dialogue. It’s a strong character study, and he certainly is up for
the task. This is good showcase for him, even considering all the visuals.
There
are some nice extras, as there tends to be especially on a Blu-ray. First up is
the 2:30 Alternate Music Ending, which shows the end of the film with, well,
different music. It’s more piano based, with almost religious solemnity. It’s
quite beautiful, and in my opinion, works as well as the film proper. The Deleted
Scenes lasts 8:50. A combination of unused footage, some with inner comments,
it’s nice and interesting, but having it out of the film makes sense, too. It
does, however, help you get a little more depth on Him’s character.
The 2:42
Photo Gallery is set to the soaring “incidental,” neo-classical music. It’s all
shots taken from production, such as make-up, fooling around the set, and
scenery beyond the shoot premise; much better than just still from the film.
Last is the Nuclear CGI Test, where we see different versions of a digital nuclear
explosion that lasts for 1:14. There are also a bunch of trailers from Unearthed
Films, nearly all of them reviewed on this blog at one point or another, such
as the American Guinea Pig series and
Atroz.
I’m
still trying to figure out, visually speaking, if the film went too far, or if
it didn’t go far enough. That’s part of what makes this such as interesting
piece, though patience is definitely needed as you follow Him on his path,
painful minute by painful hour.
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