Review: Sebastian’s Unholy Flesh

Text © Richard Gary / Indie Horror Films, 2020
Images from the Internet

Sebastian’s Unholy Flesh
Directed by Dakota Ray
R.A. Productions
72 minutes, 2020
https://m.facebook.com/dakotarayfilmmaker/

In his seventh film, director/writer/editor Dakota Ray takes a leap forward and brings all that makes his signature stylings with him. He has a vision that is full of satanic overtones, indulging in absinthe, the darker side of Denver’s urban landscape, serial killing, and a purple haze… okay, a purple filter.

Without giving away much as this is in the first 30 seconds of the film, a cosmic shift has led to the death of Satan, and Sebastian (Dakota Ray), an evil extradimensional demonic being who has taken human form, means to fill the Dark Lord's place by getting his hands on a certain book that belonged to Beelzebub. With this he will gain Satan's powers and be able to destroy the world. And the quest for our end begins.

As with all quest sagas, there must be two sides, even if it is not good vs. evil, as in this case it is certainly evil (Sebastian as anti-protagonist) and a higher level of evil. Here, the latter is represented by two entities. The first, being human, is the White Spider (Fred Epstein), a serial killer that watches snuff films to get off, and who invokes the second demonic entity named Nezaah (Nick Benning) – the first born son of Satan – who is also after said tome, I am assuming for similar reasons. Nezaah uses the White Spider (WS) as his go-between to be rid of our boy Sebastian by cutting him into nine symbolic pieces. Will Nezaah and WS succeed in their malevolent deed and need for control?

With the exception of Nezaah, nearly all the dialogue is the internal thinking of the characters. This has always been a cornerstone of Ray’s filmmaking and it works for his oeuvre. When Nezaah actually orates, however, his words are simultaneously captioned on the screen in big letters, not as a scrawl on the bottom, for those who hate captioning; if you don’t want to read, you can still hear what he is saying pretty clearly through his growling vocals.

The big question of course is who will win this malignant battle to the death of, well, them and everything? Either way, it’s not looking good for the universe because both are out for a taste of destruction on our behalf. This is a nihilistic view, and yet, it feels like it matters in this dystopian pre-apocalypse. Is this perhaps a metaphor for the Trump regime’s plan to plummet us all to an early grave, be it through a pandemic or global change, or even geo-political shenanigans?

Speaking of pandemics, this was, of course, filmed during the height of the Summer of COVID, and it’s interesting to watch how Ray uses the cast in individual set pieces and splices them together to form a semi-coherent narrative (more on that later). The cast is actually quite small but work around each other in interesting ways to maintain cinematic social distancing.

There is very little subtly in this film when it comes to the acting. Sebastian is kind of cool and self-assured, with Ray’s trademark vocal growl almost snarling with smirking and hubristic glee. As for Epstein and Benning, they gear it up to, well, beyond 11 in their emoting, but we’re dealing with extreme characters, so it’s not so off-putting or even unexpected.

 

Ray has always relied heavily on the visual and tints to evoke moods, using urban landscapes, road kill, insects, and satanic and Christian imagery for atmosphere and ambience, or to push the story along; Satan is oft a secondary character in many of his releases, but since Satan is no more, he is absent (in the “flesh”) here. Using a purple tint throughout gives it an edgy, experimental feel that mostly works in making the imagery an almost dreamlike quality. The heavy fisted music also works exceedingly well for promoting the demonic and oppressive tone.

What is different in this film, however, is that imagery has moved up in importance and become parallel with the narrative, both of them in a dark, purple dance with each other. Ray has made it clear that he has become infatuated with the mildly psychedelic and green drink of absinthe, which may (I am assuming) be a strong influence on this heavier reliance on the visual.

Recently, I read someone positing that Ray’s works fit into the “transgressive” subgenre. That struck me as being quite accurate, especially with this release. I can easily see his work alongside of the likes of Richard Kern, Nick Zedd, and Beth and Scott B.; perhaps even a bit of Stan Brakhage in the sheer rawness of it all. Another reason this pairing may match is because transgressive cinema tends to be a bit poetic and esoteric, and arguably a bit poetically opaque at times, as this one tends to be due to it’s story arch and imagery, with each filmmaker having their own forte and style.

As a drinking game, take a sip of absinthe every time Nezaah says the word “Obtain.”