and horror have long gone together – both taboo subjects,
both entertainment genres dismissed by the mainstream and both
held responsible by idiots for all manner of criminal behaviour.
In new British horror anthology Little Deaths,
the connection is pushed to the extreme.
Essentially three individual short films, this is a dark, sometimes
disturbing, often outrageous effort that will probably cause outrage
should the tabloids ever get hold of it.
The first story, Sean Hogan’s House and Home,
sees bored married couple Richard (Luke de Lacey) and Victoria
(Siubhan Harrison) picking up homeless Sorrow (Holly Lucas), who
is drugged and raped by the couple. However, their victim is not
what she seems, and very soon the tables are turned in spectacularly
gory manner. It’s a fairly predictable story – the
twists being rather obvious – but has some outrageous moments
– a facial cum shot, golden showers and nipple chewing to
name just three.
Andrew Parkinson’s Mutant Tool is a more
convoluted affair, centering on prostitute Jen (Jodie Jameson),
who finds herself hooked on drugs that are made from the emissions
that drip out of the huge penis of an imprisoned mutant –
enough information, I would imagine, to get your attention. Despite
the outrageous premise, this is a quiet and bleak little story,
possibly suffering from vague characterisation – you never
quite get the connections that bring the characters together.
The ‘mutant tool’ is a Cronenbergian creation, genuinely
unsettling to see as it is milked, and the final twist is…
final story is Simon Rumley’s Bitch, a
sharp little story about Pete (Tom Sawyer), who is is in a dysfunctional
relationship with Claire (Kate Braithwaite), that runs from BDSM
sessions where he dresses as a dog – her greatest real life
fear – and is buggered with a strap-on, to watching as she
gets off with his best friend. Eventually, the constant abuse
and humiliation becomes too much and he hires a lock-up garage,
finds a few dogs and… well, you can probably fill in the
gaps. While possibly a little reactionary about kinky relationships,
this is an agreeably sour little tale that comes closest to the
classic Amicus anthology style with it’s nasty little sting
in the tail.
It’s unusual to see a British film so openly confronting
sex and violence, and Little Deaths certainly
pushes the limits – it’ll be interesting to see what
the BBFC make of it. The common theme makes the individual stories
fit together better than many multi-director portmanteau films,
and each story has plenty going for it, none feeling over-stretched
or over-indulgent. Fans of hardcore horror will find much here
to make them happy.