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FLESH FEAST (1970)
Directed by Brad F. Grinter
Beverly Wilshire Filmworks DVD
Reviewed 02.22.07
Review by Joseph A. Ziemba
THE FILM
I'm always "keyed-up"
for a quick trip to Miami. Grinter,
don't fail me now.
The Miami Exploitation Club: together
again! Brad F. Grinter, the brothers
William and Harry Kerwin, Doug Hobart,
Thomas Casey, and a handful of auxiliaries;
in the late 1960s and early 1970s,
these gutter heroes funneled Florida's
palm trees and cheap motels into
a legacy of weird film lust. From
Sometimes Aunt Martha Does Dreadful
Things to Scream
Baby Scream to the inhuman
Blood Freak, the hotspot
was always piping. Today, any film
even remotely related to this red-letter
group implores a watch. Including
the indecisive Flesh Feast.
I think.
"Produced by Veronica Lake
and Brad F. Grinter!" That's
great for the bad-ass rep, but not
so much the movie. Flesh Feast
is the directorial debut of Mr.
Brad Grinter; frequent smoker and
loving Father of Blood Freak.
Here, The Grint plops down ex-1940s
Hollywood siren Veronica Lake in
a suburban home, films her walking
around a lab, and tries to make
a connection between maggots and
a cure for the aging process. Brad
also debuts his patented role as
a "keyed up," chain-smoking
cop. For further fatigue, hit-men
air their grievances, nurses pop
pills, and a leg (kind of) meets
a hacksaw. There are also a few
decomposed corpses hanging in the
basement, courtesy cheapo effects
magician Doug Hobart (Blood
Stalkers). Then, Bill Rogers
shows up for two minutes, sporting
his make-up from A
Taste Of Blood. Riveting,
huh? I was ready to call it a night.
Suddenly, a knock emerged at Ms.
Lake's front door.
It was Adolf Hitler. Brad F. Grinter
was back in the saddle.
Flesh Feast may be a mess
of arbitrary ideas, random absurdity
("Look Daddy, I don't have
to wear my eyepatch anymore!"),
stagnant photography, and robotic
dubbing, but there's still one good
reason to see it. Namely, Adolf
Hitler. With unheard-of tact, this
film instantly erases 70 minutes
of mildly amusing tedium with 60
seconds of nazploitation insanity.
I rewound. I rewound again. Brilliant.
Basically, the uncomfortable hilarity
of Blood Freak is sorely
absent from the sluggishly tame
Flesh Feast, but thanks
to that ending, things still heat
on up. As Veronica sez, "This
one is for democracy!" Amen.
This trip was kind of a bust, but
who am I kidding? I still need to
see Harry Kerwin's My Third
Wife George. Miami, ho!
AUDIO AND VIDEO
Boot city. It's another winner from
way-defunct Beverly Wilshire Filmworks
(Bloody
Vampire); endless tape
rolls and blips, inch-thick fuzz,
lots of compression issues, and
smeary visuals. Looks like someone
rented the severely rare World Vision
VHS, copied it twice, then burned
a DVD-R using circa 2000 technology.
Actually, that's probably what happened.
EXTRAS
Just to keep you on your toes, the
DVD automatically returns to the
main menu at the end of the first
chapter. The best!
FINAL THOUGHTS
Let's hear it for democracy. The
dirt cheap Flesh Feast
has a few unusual high points, but
it's mostly a stone-cold bore. That
is, until the final 60 seconds.
This laughable DVD set me back $1.50.
I'm no good at math, but I think
it all evens out. Your choice. |
The Grint
Veronica's Travels
Why, of corpse!
Springtime For Hitler
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