Because I love you and want you to be happy, have this:
Now, you can either watch it then read this, or allow my word-pictures to tell you what that nonsense is about. And given the horror I witnessed, I can’t believe it’s up there unedited…Troma, the company that gave us actually quite decent films like the “Toxic Avenger” series and “Terror Firmer”, also buys up cheap old horror films from round the world. They then rename them – so there’s a film called “Rabid Grannies” which doesn’t have any rabid people or grannies in it; and “Sardu – Master of the Screaming Virgins” (which is a pretty badass title) becomes “Blood Sucking Freaks”, a film where no-one sucks blood. One bloke sucks brain matter through a straw, and there’s certainly enough freaks, but I demand verisimilitude from my film titles, dammit!
I’ve just been reading “Profoundly Disturbing”, the Joe Bob Briggs book about films which changed film by nature of how, well, disturbing they were. It mentions Times Square, NY, in the 1970s, when the city was much rougher and the colourful characters who hung around the area’s cinemas demanded more and more gore. “Bloodsucking Freaks” must be close to the ultimate horror film for those fans – absolutely drenched in gore, dirt and foulness.
So, let’s recap. For some reason, a famous NFL player, his ballerina girlfriend and a famous art critic are all in the audience for a SoHo “Grand Guignol” show hosted by Sardu. Women get abused, tortured and one has her hand cut off on stage, which generates little but polite applause and cries of “fake”. Sardu, of course, is 100% for real and is actually capturing, brainwashing, torturing, mutilating and murdering women, with the help of his camp black midget friend Ralphus, a deviant doctor, and a few statuesque women in weird frilly underwear.
I think it’s fair to say that director Joel Reed had received some bad reviews in the past. Sardu is obsessed with getting positive feedback from the theatre critic (whose name is Creasy Silo) to the stage where he kidnaps and tortures him after he refuses to even review his show; and there are references throughout to how reviews are stupid anyway.
The actual main plot of the film is Sardu kidnapping the ballerina, bafflingly named Natasha DeNatalie, and attempting to brainwash her so she will dance for him and he can take his show – which, bear in mind, features the real mutilation and killing of women – to Broadway, or Los Angeles. Her football player boyfriend Tom Maverick (who came up with these damn names?) attempts to find her after she’s taken, but seemingly the only policeman in New York is utterly corrupt.
The above is so stupid I was wondering if it was some sort of parody of the way women are treated in horror films. Firstly, Sardu has seemingly unlimited supplies of women to not only kill on stage, but kill in his lair for the most minor reasons (he lets his corrupt doctor drill into the head of one of them, only to then kill him two minutes later), and to sell into white slavery – the way he makes money to keep open. If you’re a famous ballerina and your boyfriend is an NFL star, then I have to assume the NYPD would put more than one guy on the case, if only to avoid terrible publicity; and I think they’d probably check first the guy they visited the day previously, who has three open murder cases against him? Again, the beyond-incompetent police may be some deep-seated issue of the director’s, because otherwise it just makes no sense.
I won’t spoil the ending for you (but it involves people getting bits chopped off them). But should you bother watching it? “Profoundly Disturbing” talks about films which are important purely because no-one else would make them, because their subject matter is so far beyond the pale that just the fact they exist is “good”, in a way. I still think it’d be nice if they bothered to make it even remotely coherent. Still, every bit of dirt in this film looks real, it’s certainly unique and there some pretty big belly-laughs to be had at the film’s expense.