OGROFF (1983)
aka MAD MUTILATOR Directed by Norbert Moutier aka N.G. Mount
Video Screams DVD-R
Buy it from Video Screams!
THE FILM
American trash lover, welcome to Paris! Here to greet you is our International Ambassador Of Filth, Mr. Ogroff. Wait...what's wrong?! Oh, don't mind Mr. Ogroff's eccentricities...yes, he lops off childrens' heads with his little pick-axe all the time. Water under the bridge, as we say. He also enjoys raw cannibal feasts in his bug-infested shack with great regularity. Think nothing of it. Also, if he chases you, just run! He might get bored and give up. All set? Trés, trés bien! Let's get some francs.
Aside from the recent excellence of High Tension and the talents of Jean Rollin, French cinema isn't particularly represented when it comes to quirky horror...especially in the minds of American connoisseurs. In the early 80s, a video shoppe owner/horror zine publisher from Paris named Norbert Georges Moutier (N.G. to you and me), decided to take a crack at no-budget horror filmmaking. Ogroff was born. The world would never be the same.
Out of control? Disturbing? Unbelievable? Hilarious? All apt descriptors, yet none fully convey the experience that is Ogroff. Shot on what appears to be Super 8 (or maybe video printed to film), N.G. Mount's debut feature is an evil fairy tale from a warped mind, a gore soaked series of creepy tangents that only make sense as the entire picture unfolds. Needless to say, it's a film that will stick with you long after viewing. With about five lines of actual dialogue, even.
For the first half of the film, there's no plot to speak of. When the simplistic story arc nearly takes shape, it's a complete surprise. I won't ruin that for you, but there's no harm in conveying the trip we take to get there. Ogroff, clad in his rubber boots, knit cap, and leather mask, lives in a nasty shack in the woods. He spends his time viciously attacking passerby's, destroying property, eating raw meat, and pretending to masturbate with his pick-axe. Really! But this killer isn't picky; he'll rip apart anything, including people, cars, chessboards, and chainsaws. After a random chainsaw duel with a lumberjack, Ogroff meets a girl. That's where we go from mindless grue to semi-poetic flinching, at least as far as trashy gore films are concerned. The last half of the film explodes with twists...Jess Franco alum Howard Vernon...a motorcycle...blinking eyes...the undead. Your eyes will be scorched in awe; the ending will leave you wanting more.
I know this all sounds pretty intense. To a certain point, it is. The sight of a hopping Ogroff making his way through the woods is equally eerie and ominous. The crude presentation of the film, capped with the expansive wooded locales, only helps in this respect. On the other hand, the sheer insanity of the "anything goes" budget, garage gore dismemberment, and N.G.'s kinetic direction all signal one thing: weirdo trash perfection. With a soundtrack comprised of bedroom synth-pop, ambient noises, and lifted kung-fu sound effects, it's not hard to see why. In fact, so much happens during the runtime of this film, that it's hard to process the whole thing in one sitting.
The best I can do is offer this analogy: Ogroff is kind of like Nathan Schiff directing Blood Feast on a dimestore budgeted set of Texas Chainsaw Massacre. Add a couple of ripped scenes from other horror films (The Burning, most prominently) and that about does it. Except when Ogroff pops out of some lady's car trunk for no apparent reason. You got me there. One ticket to Paris, pleeze!
AUDIO AND VIDEO
Although this is one of the oddest looking dupes I've ever seen, my eyes quickly adjusted and the mood was enhanced. Coated in coffee stained color, this copy of the film looks three or four generations removed from a master; doubled edges, blocky faces, the whole shebang. Pretty poor on normal terms. But this is Ogroff. I'd love to see a pristine print of this film, but something tells me that the gritty mystery might be lost. The mono sound was surprisingly clear for such a rough picture counterpart.
EXTRAS
Non.
FINAL THOUGHTS
Ogroff mixes up a little creepiness and z-rate perversion with a handheld blender. It will appeal to those that like 'em cracked, visceral, and gleefully cheap. Video Screams offers the only copy I've ever seen of this film in the States, so what are you waiting for?
— Joseph A. Ziemba, 08.18.05 | 
Kind old Mr. Ogroff
First date
Oh, the subtlety
On Ogroff's s-list
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