When I
first got into horror films, I steadily made my way through all the American
classics. In short order I found myself running out of domestic fair and,
slowly but surely, I fell down the rabbit hole of Italian horror. I quickly
consumed Dario Argento’s masterpieces like Suspiria
(1977) and Deep Red (1975) and
moved on to the Italian Godfather of Gore himself, Lucio Fulci. I found a
complete love of his films like Zombie
(1979) and The Beyond (1981).
Above all I became a die-hard fan of Ruggero Deodato’s flesh-eating masterpiece
Cannibal Holocaust (1980). After
devouring every frame of essential spaghetti horror I could, my addiction
became too great, and I found myself slipping further down that exploitation
rabbit hole until I was in the throes of the dregs of the genre. The absolute
bottom of the barrel. And there, among the throw-away drivel – I’m looking at
you, Hell of the Living Dead (1980) –
I found one of the most deliriously wonderful slices of grindhouse garbage I
would ever lay my eyes on: a zombie/cannibal/mad doctor roller coaster known as
Zombie Holocaust (1980).
Gut-munching, flesh-ripping,
eyeball-gouging, limb-tearing, chunk-blowing, fluid-spewing, bloody, gory
goodness. Everything an Italian zombie cannibal exploitation mashup should be. Violence,
nudity, over-the-top gore, virtually no plot to speak of, and certainly nothing
close to a traditionally ‘good movie’, the film truly embodies all that a genre
aficionado craves. But if you need more convincing, let me ask… Have you ever
seen a zombie’s head blended to bloody smithereens by an outboard motor? I
thought so…
The plotline is made up of the most
simplistic nonsense. Really, who would expect anything else? After a rash of
unexplained cadaver mutilations sweeping New York City is tracked to an island
chain in the South Pacific (because, why not?), a busty blonde anthropologist
teams up with an investigator, an obnoxious journalist, and some culturally
stereotyped Asian islander guides to unravel the mystery. Upon arrival on the
island, mad cannibal zombie doctor hijinks ensue. What’s not to like?
Perhaps more infamous than the
film itself is its history. Zombie
Holocaust was directed by Marino Girolami, a director more well-known for
the being the father of The Inglorious
Bastards (1978) director Enzo G. Castellari. The film was conceived as a blatant
cash-in on the successes of both Zombie
and Cannibal Holocaust (if you couldn’t
already tell). The production even went so far as to cast two players who had
previously starred in Zombie, Ian
McCulloch and Peruvian actor Dakar. Some of the music is taken from Fulci’s
film, as well as a few B-roll shots the production somehow thought nobody would
notice.
The real story, however, begins
when Zombie Holocaust made its way to
the United States. On this side of the pond the film was re-edited, re-scored,
and re-titled as Doctor Butcher, M.D.
(Medical Deviate)! This title was chosen despite the fact that very little
medical goings on actually occur in the movie. Nevertheless, it provided the
entire basis for the marketing campaign. The trimmings don’t remove any of the
gore, only a few plot-related scenes that were deemed… unnecessary… The advertising
for its release involved a station-wagon outfitted to appear like an ambulance
and inside a stretcher and other bloody mad doctor paraphernalia. It made the
rounds in Times Square and the police were called more than once! Producer/distributor
Terry Levene simply bailed his people out and sent them back to the streets to
keep the publicity going! From there the film made its debut on New York’s
infamous 42nd Street, where it passed into grindhouse history.
There are so many reasons to
love this film. Not the least of which are the beautiful practical gore effects
that leave nothing to the imagination and yet are so abysmally fake that you
can’t help but laugh your ass off. One needs look no further than the scene
where a hospital orderly leaps to his death out a seventh story window. When
the mannequin hits the pavement, one can clearly see the arm come flying off. Top
notch stuff, really.
Truly, that scene describes
perfectly the brand of utter lunacy that is Zombie
Holocaust. Between lines such as, “I’m determined to have your brain!” and
the half-mumbled, incomprehensible mishmash that’s supposed to pass for the
accents of Asian characters, nothing here quite makes sense. And that’s
absolutely okay because that kind of terribleness is exactly what the audience
of this motion picture is after.
No viewer comes to a film like
this expecting Citizen Kane (1941).
We come expecting the gruesome goods, and boy does this flick deliver. Disemboweling,
eye-gouging, eating of fake guts slathered in bright red paint, ill-advised and
medically inaccurate brain surgery… it’s all here my friends, in absolute
spades. To borrow a phrase from General George S. Patton – I love it so!
Let’s be clear, Zombie Holocaust is not a good movie. It
simply is not. But that is precisely why it is so damned wonderful. It offers a
veritable cornucopia of dubious delectable delights that are never found all in
the same place anywhere else. Want cannibals? You got it. Zombies? Got that
too. A mad doctor creating zombies with gory brain transplants? Check. Actress
Alexandra Delli Colli stripped nude, flowers painted all over her, and
worshipped as a goddess by an island cannibal tribe? Oh what the hell, sure,
why not?
Yeah, cannibals were done better
in Cannibal Holocaust. Zombies were
scarier in Zombie, Dawn of the Dead, Day of the Dead, etc… And if boobs are your thing there are just as
many of those in movies far better known than this. But I ask you, where else
can you get them all at once? Exactly, nowhere except the warm, cuddly, sleazy
embrace of Doctor Butcher, M.D. So
put on your best goofy grin and get ready for a very, very messy good time!
