Friday, December 30, 2022

Review: La Petite Mort

Text © Richard Gary / Indie Horror Films, 2023
Images from the Internet

La Petite Mort (aka La Petite Mort: Die Nasty)
Directed by Marcel Walz
Laser Paradise; Matador Film; Unearthed Films; MVD Visual
77 minutes, 2009 / 2022
www.unearthedfilms.com
www.mvdvisual.com
https://myspace.com/lapetitemortmovie

German transgressive cinema, at the moment, has two shining stars of gore and, well, more gore: one is Marcel Walz, and the other is Olaf Ittenbach, both of whom deal with a combination of directing and practical SFX. Their films are certainly not for the squeamish. Naturally, the film is in German, with well-defined English subtitles.

For this film, we get a double-whammy. It is directed by Walz, and the SFX are under the guidance of Ittenbach. What can these two come up with? Well, this release of purposefully questionable taste.

The (translated) title cards let us know this is in 1998, and states this is a true, infamous story, and lists the names of the victims. I hate when that is done (and, unfortunately, so many “true stories” or “found footage” – which this is not – does that very thing). I do not want to know; I want to see and be surprised.

Inés Zahmoul, Anna Habeck

We are introduced to our protagonist/victims right off the bat, as they arrive in Frankfurt during a stopover on their way to Mallorca. They are the couple Simon (Andreas Pape, who was also producer and cinematographer) and blind Nina (Inés Zahmoul), and their companion on this vacation, Dodo (Anna Habeck)

After a way-too-long exposition of the three walking through the city, including the seedy, industrial side, they get mugged. To drown their sorrows, they end up in a local bar called, ironically (or not) Jail’s, where the music is loud, the dancing is raucous, the denizens are scary, and kidnapping is nigh after an argument with their obnoxiously flirtatious waitress, Dominique (Annika Strauss).

From this point (i.e., Act 2), they are now in what is known as Maison la Petite Mort (“House of Little Death”), located in an abandoned factory, which has rooms with the names of the likes of “Slaughterhouse” and “Surgery,” each of which has its own primal colors of blue, red, and cyan. If this is starting to sound a bit like Hostel (2005), yeah, it is a similar theme, but instead of just having customers pay to torture, the action is live streamed for profit.. The joint is run by middle aged Maman (Manoush), who runs it like a business, stealing from her victims.

Magdalèna Kalley, Habeck

I will not continue on and tell you the types of ordeals they go through, as this is typical torture porn at its highest standard. However, I will honestly say, I turned away when the rusty-looking sewing needles came out (needles and eyes are my Kryptonite, and while it is not all that happens, it happens). After all, the whole purpose of these types of transgressive cinema pieces is to revolt and disturb its audience in intimate detail, most of whom watch it with glee or disgust. There is no middle ground, though my tolerance is somewhat varied, depending on the action.

The problem with stories like this, and this is my opinion, is the plot revolves around the action, rather than the action being a result of the story. This is not meant as finger-pointing, as I have a relatively high tolerance for onscreen violence, but sometimes it goes beyond what even I can tolerate. If this is your idea of fun, well, please, have at it.

The film looks really good, with just the right industrial tone, and acid-laced and occasionally philosophical dialogue. The imagery of the story proper actually looks really fine, which is no surprise since both Walz and Ittenbach have experience as filmmakers (and SFX), knowing how to get the right look, tone, and desperation feeling that suits the gorehound’s tastes.

The women who run the Maison, Maman and her “servants” Dominique and blonde Angélique (Magdalèna Kalley), are almost like Cenobites, Maman phrases it by telling Dodo that she will “…take you into a world of your own. A world of your own secret dreams and fantasies…” as she begins her work on Dodo.

While estrogen-based at its core, like Hostel, Maman “rents” out the victims to men who pay large sums to do as they wish, all of which is painful. For example, there is Klaus de Kobold (Thomas Kercmar), with half his face burned and mutilated (fire? Acid?), who gleefully watches as the women are tortured to his specific requests (he does not do it much of it himself, unlike Hostel).

And through all the explicit gore, I still laughed at the occasional title cards that separates some scenes, which are all in French, rather than German. I wonder if this was a nod to Donatien Alphonse François, also known as the Marquis de Sade (d. 1814). Or, perhaps, Giles de Rais (d. 1440). Or both.

It is interesting that there is a subtle Christmas theme to parts of this. But will there be some revenge or will the bad guys…I mean girls win?

As gross as the film was, as it was meant to be, the credit can easily go to Ittenbach who did all the practical SFX. There is no doubt this does not have a cartoonish look, but instead has a strong sense of realism. Tom Savini learned about the insides of the human body as a medic in Vietnam. I wonder where Ittenbach learned his craft, as it is that exact.

Just know, along with the heaping of torture and gore, on occasion there is an additional sense of unsettling, thanks to a shaky, handheld camera. Not to the nauseating level of, say, Cloverfield (2008), thankfully, but it serves it purpose to keep the action on uneven ground, as it were.

I did not see the Blu-ray, which has the following features: a “Making of La Petite Mort” featurette, a commentary with Marcel Walz, an interview with director Marcel Walz and with SFX wizard Olaf Ittenbach, deleted scenes, a gallery, and trailers.

If this film floats yer boat, there is also the sequel, La Petite Mort II: Nasty Tapes (2014).

IMDB listing HERE



1 comment:

  1. I did a podcast segment on this article http://www.thehorrorstreamlive.com/index.php/movies/893-la-petite-mort-film-review-indie-horror-films

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