Ahhh, the fresh beginnings of 2012. A brand spankin’ new year with so much hope and potential! Well, unless this sucker turns out to be the last. Hence, why the gang here at The Trash Cinema Collective made sure to kick this year off right with a blazingly dark and sexy spread by one of our favorite up and coming models and aspiring writers: Whitlee Sabbath Flinn! A spread inspired by Fight Song era Marilyn Manson? Seems rather apropos to this connoisseur of filth. An enormous fan of horror, deviously alluring and a close personal friend of ours here at The Collective, Whitlee seems like the perfect way to get what could our last year on Earth off on just the right note. Be sure to check out her sites and let Whitlee know what you think of her set! Stay Trashy, Gang! – Root
Whitlee, tell us a little about your personal philosophy regarding Trash Horror Films:
“I’m a huge horror fan in general, although I’m a very picky, harsh critic when it comes to any movie I watch, great trash films are very dear to my heart! There’s something so special about combining great horror, with the hilarious comedy of everything that’s going on in the film just being ridiculous! It’s that this-is-so-bad-that-it’s-good-feeling that pumps me up every time I watch a new low budget horror film. Laughing while I’m disgusted is my favorite part. I’ll never forget the first time I watched “Dead Alive”, giggling madly as “Mom” popped the boil on her face, and the blood squirted right into the custard that was eaten without hesitation, but also being completely disgusted by the idea; that’s what makes trash horror great for me! Films like The Evil Dead, The Evil Dead 2, Army of Darkness, Dead Alive, and Tobe Hooper’s The Texas Chainsaw Massacre series are examples of trashy horror films that I will love forever!”- Whitlee
savage |ˈsavij|
adjective
(of an animal or force of nature) fierce, violent, and uncontrolled : tales of a savage beast | a week of savage storms.
• cruel and vicious; aggressively hostile : they launched a savage attack on the budget.
• (chiefly in historical or literary contexts) primitive; uncivilized.
• (of a place) wild-looking and inhospitable; uncultivated.
• (of something bad or negative) very great; severe : this would deal a savage blow to the government’s fight.
lust |ləst|
noun
very strong sexual desire : he knew that his lust for her had returned.
• [in sing. ] a passionate desire for something : a lust for power.
• (usu. lusts) chiefly Theology a sensual appetite regarded as sinful : lusts of the flesh.
verb [ intrans. ]
have a very strong sexual desire for someone : he really lusted after me in those days.
• feel a strong desire for something : pregnant women lusting for pickles and ice cream.
Okay, so, according to the above definitions if you’ve rented and popped ‘Savage Lust’ (AKA: Deadly Manor) into your VCR and pressed play you assume you;re in for a horrific, brutal sex picture with plenty of nudity and gore to burn your dirty retinas on. And you would be partially correct in that assumption. I rented the crusty old VHS copy of ‘Savage Lust’ from my local haunt, Video 21, and brought it on home where I gave it a spin.
Right away I was shocked to see this thing came out in the year 1990 since it looked to have the fashion sense and production value of a film shot roughly a decade earlier. Not only that, but this sucker was directed by José Ramón Larraz who helmed some pretty decent horror movies in Europe including an all time favorite of mine, the flesh filled, lesbian blood sucker epic, ‘Vampyres’ in 1975 (under the name Joseph Larraz). Which makes this one even stranger, seeing as it looks really, really, shitty. Which I ‘m not sure is due to a ridiculously low budget, filmmaker apathy towards the material or maybe both…
Anyway, the film starts off just like any old slasher flick with a group of friends heading to a secluded cabin by the lake. No, not Crystal Lake, but Lake…uh, Okapanukey? Along the way they pick up a potentially dangerous hitchhiker, get a flat tire, and encounter a goofy police officer all in the span of ten minutes. And, no, the cliches do not end there. As the sun begins to set our gang pulls over and heads into the woods where they come across an old, presumably abandoned mansion. A secluded, abandoned mansion with a wrecked car as a predominantly displayed lawn ornament, several coffins in the basement, preserved scalps in a closet, a bedroom plastered with black and white photos of a creepy nekkid lady, and the typical coffee table photo album of neatly lined up nekkid dead people.
Oddly enough, this hardly raises a red flag for any of our thirty-something year old teenage protagonists and they decide to SPEND THE NIGHT THERE. What could possibly go right?
How quaint...
But just as you begin to feel comfortable as a jaded, scene it all, horror fan the movie starts throwing curve balls. People start getting killed off in a completely random order unlike any slasher film I’ve ever watched. People you expect to be heroes are killed mid way through, folks you assume will be red herrings till the end die at the most unexpected times and this gives the film a cool effect because you’re never, ever, really sure who is going to die and when. The beat of the typical slasher film is way off and this creates a feeling of unease and even dread in the viewer. This could be intentional or just really poorly done pacing, but in the end it works in the film’s favor.
Also, when the killer is revealed it is pretty bizarre. Is it a ghost? A creature of some sort? A deformed psychopath? Who knows? The movie keeps you wondering just what the fuck is going on up until the final reveal and explanation which I found to be somewhat unique in the realm of the slasher film. It’s an M.O. that’s become a little customary but the dealer of death this time around doesn’t feel old and worn to death.
But what is burned into my brain is this really sleazy sex scene between one of our main fellas, whose girlfriend goes missing early on in the film and he hardly cares, and a mysterious Afroed red headed big hootered woman. It’s this strange sequence which comes out of left field and seems almost hallucinatory gratuitous, totally nekkid, bump and grind sequence is inter cut with visuals of deformed faces, busted eye balls and pulpy, freshly yanked off scalps. Now, the woman doing the bonking is not an attractive lady by any means, but she is smiling ear to ear and looks to be having a blast as she simulates getting it on with her mildly latino, chiseled beef cake fuck buddy. It’s the stand out scene of the whole movie for me and the one I will remember whenever I think about ‘Savage Lust’. And I will think of it.
"Come on, honey, this is fine art! It will look great in the living room!"
The mansion itself is also one dang creepy place. It’s dank, dusty, cob webbed and that master bedroom filled with nekkid pictures is just plan disturbing. You cannot help but wonder just what kind of pervy freak lives in this place. you also cannot help but wonder WHY IN THE NAME OF SAM HELL ARE THESE KNUCKLE NOBS STAYING HERE? Man, I would take my chances against the elements in the woods rather than stay in a house with a collection still drippy scalps and a moist, stinky, made bed ready to be slept in by the person who obviously still inhabits the place!I’d much rather risk dying of exposure than worry about those home owners showing up.
‘Savage Lust’ is far from a good movie. No, it’s complete trash. It looks like the film was dipped in beef gravy before being transfered to VHS, the acting is middle school drama department level and the effects are ridiculous. But the film still manages to be a bit creepy and even pulls off something few slasher films ever did after 1984, surprise the viewer!
Maybe I am being overly kind to ‘Savage Lust’ by saying it pulls off a few unexpected treats here and there but I found myself enjoying this little dumpster nugget. It’s so awkward and dodgy that it ended up endearing itself to this sick, disturbed, trash cinema collector’s heart.
I would only recommend ‘Savage Lust’ to those of you who are truly devoted to the art of sleaze and horror hand dipped in thick, nacho, cheese. It’s not a good movie. No, sir. But it’s a lost gem and a perfect example of why we love Trash Cinema.
Now if only I could work the term “Savage Lust” into some pillow talk…
Stay Trashy,
-Root
“She has a lust for life…pray it’s not yours!” Sorry, couldn’t track down a trailer.
a Trash Cinema After Dark review
Written by The Primal Root
Sex is incredible; The feeling of being intensely aroused by another human being, the electricity of having that feeling reciprocated, and the excitement as your bodies move closer, are some of life’s greatest thrills. Without sex—the most innate of all human interactions—life just wouldn’t be worth living. There’s nothing in this world that can fill us with such a sense of vigor as a good, healthy, consensual, fuck. It’s life’s natural exclamation point.
This is why I find it such a shame that in my country (the good ‘ol, U.S. of A.) we treat coitus like it’s the most horrifying act imaginable. A perfect example is the recent film Blue Valentine, which was initially slapped with an NC-17 rating for showing two adults getting it on. Show a female nipple (or two) or, heaven forbid, a penis… and it’s labeled obscene. That is how the nude human body is viewed in our arcane society. Americans can handle watching people being killed on prime time local news networks. They are comfortable with the fact that Hollywood scenes of graphic, horrific violence are open to audiences who can’t even legally buy cigarettes. But throw a titty up on the screen, and our morally immature citizens come marching out of the woodwork, rambling righteously through their loudspeakers.
This mind set sucks, gang. When America’s moral scale is tipped by the mere glimpse of a woman’s breasts, but remains undisturbed by the hacking off of genitals (a la Eli Roth), something is horribly off with our equilibrium.
Which is why I thank my lucky stars for those artists who rebel against our ridiculous moral code and create films that explore human sexuality, for those courageous few who unabashedly bring sex into the light and force us to take a nice, long look. Sex isn’t as simple as many pornographers might lead us to believe. It’s a complex jumble of human experience and emotion. It can be just as cruel and vindictive as it is amazing and beautiful. It can be superficial or it can be deeply meaningful. It can trample us down just as easily as it can lift us up.
Sex is powerful, without question. Whether you save yourself for marriage or have a dozen lovers in every zip code, you cannot deny that sex is an ever-present force in our day-to-day lives.
Which brings me to Italian filmmaker, Tinto Brass’s 2000 flick, Cheeky (Trasgredire). It is a film about two lovers, our star Carla (Yuliya Mayarchuk) and her jealous fella Matteo (Jarno Beradi). Carla is a strikingly beautiful, free spirited young woman who is in London looking to find the perfect apartment for Matteo. She explores the city in see through, skin-tight tank tops and mini skirts (without the aid undergarments). Does she seem ashamed? Not in the slightest. She’s proud of what she’s packing and flaunts her sexuality openly.
This how we are introduced to her: smiling, self confident and gorgeous, bouncing through some park right out of Penthouse Forum, where everyone is either fondling someone else’s crotch or showing off their own. Or, as in the case of one woman, rolling though on a rascal scooter while she walks her dog. It’s the park that underwear forgot; women spread their legs freely as they sit in the grass, people get pounced behind trees and an old man ruins the sanctity of this innocent sex oasis by flashing his didgeridoo from beneath a stained rain coat. Carla is at first shocked, but then flashes her own lovely sexual anatomy at the old man causing him to flee, frightened by such an assertive woman.
This is the world Cheeky explores. There’s a ton of sex going on here. When the act isn’t happening in the here and now of the film, there’s a flashback to some other point when someone was having sex. There is literally not ONE character here without sexual motivations… as, one could argue, there are few people in real life who aren’t driven by some sexual motivation, bubbling just beneath the surface. But in Carla’s world, everyone’s intentions are out in the open and to the viewer this is refreshing and titillating, though maybe a bit disconcerting at first.
Hell, as soon as Carla heads to a real estate office to enquire about rental properties, she is promptly hit on and groped by the statuesque lesbian real-estate agent, Moira (Francesca Nunzi). Carla is befriended by Moira but never gives into her wild flirting (so as not to betray Matteo), even when they are in the shower and Moira begins sticking her finger into Carla’s ‘lady region’.
Matteo, on the other hand, is the only repressed character in the movie. While on the phone with Carla, who is masturbating and telling him about the hot woman who hit on her, Matteo can only express his fear and insecurity regarding Carla’s fidelity and beg her to hurry to London so they can get it on. Seriously, Matteo needs to get a fucking clue, man. His character is a frustrating, wet towel of a character whom the viewer just want to forget about and get back to Carla’s flirty and fun sexually charged romps around London. Matteo’s pouty, emo existence is made even worse when he uncovers old nude photos of Carla along with letters from an old flame. Being the insecure man he is, Matteo takes this opportunity to rip Carla a new one, causing a fracture in their relationship.
Without spoiling all the fun, that’s the basic plot in Tinto Brass’s Cheeky, which is heavy on genitalia low on story. Cheeky stands in direct opposition to many of Tinto’s previous works like Caligula and Salon Kitty; which, though sexually charged, presented sex as something sinister, ugly and often trite. But sex, within Cheeky, is presented as something festive, to be enjoyed someone you care about. There is an moment in the movie that reminds us how hollow it can feel if sex is had for the wrong reasons. It’s the single sad moment in an otherwise uplifting (in more ways that one) flick about the joys of sex and the adventure of life.
There are some truly inspired sex scenes here, nothing too gratuitous, but often showing more anatomy than you would ever find in any late night offerings from Skinemax. There is one scene that stands out for me, which is a flashback sequence between Carla and her former lover, Bernard. The scene takes place on the beach in mid-day and is shot entirely in slow motion. It’s a strikingly photographed, choreographed and edited sequence that is as deeply arousing as it is light hearted and delicate. Tinto Brass proves himself to have a knack for a creating very sweet, lovely bits of cinematic erotica to counter point his darker, more painful material.
And, to be honest, I enjoy this light and fluffy sex romp far more than the hard-edged material of his past. I know, I know, I am supposed to be Mister Hardcore. But when it comes to sex, I tend to enjoy the sweet stuff as opposed to people being shot by Nazi generals while standing naked in a sauna or seeing men have their penises bound and then being graphically gutted on screen. Yeah, I think I’ll go with the fun stuff where everyone’s junk is left intact, thank you very much.
It’s a strange, sexy, mixed up world out there filled with wonder, chaos, and madness. Sex is an amazing gift, not something to live in fear of or dismiss as an ugly, disgusting act. If there’s one thing on this planet we should rejoice in, it is each other.
I look forward to my continued investigation into Tinto Brass’s filmography. If you have any recommendations for me I’d love to hear them!