Cannibal Holocaust (1980)
Posted on October 9, 2005
Filed Under Cannibals, Nasties
A quarter of a century on from its original release, Cannibal Holocaust has lost none of its power to stir up fierce controversy and in many ways embodies the extremes to which Italian fringe cinema was prepared to go in the late 1970s and early 80s. It is only available in cut form in the UK, and a recent (uncut) reissue in the US ran into trouble when two firms of printers refused to print the DVD sleeve. It achieved notoriety in the UK during the 1980s when it topped the list of films banned by the DPP during their ‘video nasty’ witch-hunt, its title frequently used as a by-word for the (allegedly) corrupting depravity that the movie and its kind were engendering in the British public. In many ways, it’s a shame director Ruggero Deodato plumped for this title, as it does little to differentiate his film from other, less sophisticated splatter works such as Cannibal Apocalypse, Cannibal Ferox and Zombie Holocaust. Although it’s a film many will find unsettling and probably upsetting, Cannibal Holocaust is a good deal more subtle than its peers in its attempt to offer something a little more worthwhile than simply wall-to-wall dismemberment.
The plot concerns a quest led by Professor Harold Monroe to recover reels of film shot in the jungles of South America by a team of documentary film-makers who disappeared without trace six months earlier. When he returns to New York with the tapes, both the city’s University and the Pan American Broadcasting Corporation are keen to see what it on them - but nothing can prepare them for what they see. This twist raises the movie’s game altogether - during the second half, we see the contents of the tapes intercut with scenes set back in New York, as a moral debate rages between the Professor, the university and the broadcasters over the actions of the film-makers and whether or not the footage should be shown to the public. This makes explicit what is implied in the jungle footage; Mark and his the rest of his documentary team come across appallingly, goofing around one minute before feigning shocked outrage at the ‘barbarity’ of the cannibal tribe, and slashing, killing and burning their way towards their goal of making an arresting film. Deodato claims the movie was inspired by catching his seven year old son watching harrowing reports from Vietnam on the television news. He invites us to debate the way unfamiliar cultures or events are sensationalised for the viewing public; his point seems to be that although film offers us a window onto a world we might never otherwise see, if the person behind the camera has a prejudiced agenda then the result will be misinformed ignorance. Interestingly, the film’s two halves deliberately present the jungle setting from two very different perspectives; for Deodato’s framing narrative, it’s achingly beautiful (especially the opening aerial shots) helped by Riz Ortolani’s gorgeous music, but the ‘documentary’ footage makes it look scuzzy and unpleasant.
Crucially, though, Deodato does not attempt to apologise for the cannibal way of life or sanitise it. Their brutality is presented unflinchingly and is incredibly repellent, especially the famous image of a young girl impaled on a vertical pole through her mouth and a horrendous abortion sequence. Although clearly the victims of western heavy-handedness, the cannibals are not innocents - it’s just that the Americans are just as brutal, whilst claiming to be part of a ‘civilised’ culture. The film’s most contentious scenes - cut from the DVD I am reviewing this from - involve the team killing animals including rats, monkeys and a turtle; Deodato incorporated real footage from a documentary film for these sequences, meaning the slaughter presented on screen is real. Whilst I’ll readily admit that I haven’t seen these scenes and have no particular desire to, I’m uncertain as to whether their inclusion - and more importantly their authenticity - helps or hinders the film; part of me thinks that it unhelpfully shifts the debate away from the issues considered within the film towards Deodato’s own film-making, but I am also mindful of the fact that he uses footage from the kind of film he is explicitly criticising, and therefore genuinely shares the audience’s own distaste and outrage.
Cannibal Holocaust’s conviction for obscenity is ironic, considering that it’s a film about how far film-making should be allowed to go. In effect, it’s not a gory movie, but a film about a gory movie - not that this lessens its sickening impact, but it suggests that Deodato was at least plugged into the debate about extreme film-making and attempting to contribute to it, rather than merely attempting to shock / titillate (delete as applicable). The gore is present in spades, but the rough, documentary style of the film means it is never fetishised in the way it usually is in lesser movies. And although the film’s final moral message - a voiceover from Prof Monroe asking “who are the real cannibals?” is hackneyed and obvious (as is much of the more overt moralising), it’s the discomforting moral issues that linger in the mind after the credits have rolled, not the imagery. Cannibal Holocaust is extreme and unashamedly provocative, but it is never exploitative. I wouldn’t recommend it to everyone simply because many will (with good reason) find it a difficult film to swallow, but it’s a valuable entry into canon of cinema for its more considered approach to a rather murky area. Sadly, its reputation and title go before it, meaning that its core audience will largely be fans of horrid cannibal movies, but it’s a smart and surprisingly reflective piece that pulls no punches in confronting its subject matter head-on.
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