In the context of film school, film theory, film conventions and anything about film-making that makes it a poignant and artful form of expression, this is a big "DON'T". Anything that can be done poorly, has already been done. Yet what we are left with is a prototypical piece of celluloid. The director, Herschell Gordon Lewis, can easily be seen as love child of Russ Meyer and Ed Wood. Those two names both evoke dread and hilarity. One can only imagine what a movie that has both would be like. Well thankfully for Herschell Gordon Lewis, the world soon found out.

As with most of his movies, forget the story. It is usually a patchwork of closeups, zoom outs, shaky cam, fake gore, nonsensical dialog driven vignettes (with sadomasochistic and other sexual undertones), coming together in the framework of 60 minutes.

There's a serial killer around killing young women and removing certain organs or appendages. At the same time there is a deli owner who caters a special ancient Egyptian feast. The rest is just nonsensical, droll dialog delivered with monotony and the ending. The ending is just painful. I recommend running around blindfolded at full speed in a city, as a way to simulate the end of the movie. If I am making this seem bad, I can digress by listing more evidence of this :

Exhibit 1 : Multiple minute scene of a character making a phone call and then conversing with that person. We never hear or see the person on the other end.

Exhibit 2 : Profile close ups of two people talking. Multiple instances too numerous to count.

Exhibit 3 : Echo, echo, echo .....

Exhibit 4 : Try to hire someone who's last job wasn't as a silent movie pianist, in 1919. It sounded like old heroin-hooked Bela Lugosi having fun with a church organ.

Exhibit 5 : Police that store their firearms in their back pockets (along with their wallets, most likely) and continue to mispronounce homicide (pronounced home_e-side).

Exhibit 6 : Horrible acting in vivid, bright Cinemascope.

Exhibit 7 : An intermission half way through the movie, where a Richard Nixon look alike is giving a lecture on ancient Egypt.

Exhibit 8 : The longest and slowest getaway and chase scene by a man from the Ministry of Funny Walks.

Exhibit 9 : Dialog such as :

"Well the killer must have thought she was dead. It was a miracle she wasn't."

"Well she is now."

".... yeah."

Based on all my evidence so far, you either :

a) think I hate this movie. b) know I hate this movie. c) stopped reading 15 minutes ago. d) are confused. e) none of the above.

To answer all but e, I do like this movie. This movie is closer to Russ Meyer's than Ed Wood. Ed lounged in his mediocre low-budget fetish. Russ mostly portrayed sex as a good, fun thing (his movies do have an unusual depth to them). Herschell took Ed's knack for making SOMETHING with limited funds and added the sexually explicit and completely gratuitous scenes. Just in case we weren't gorged enough on our own endorphins, he adds the gore/horror element. The funny thing is that none of it works. The ridiculousness of the movie is in itself. An advantage is the short running time. By the time you realize you are still watching, is the same point you realize it will just end.

I can easily see a starving early 30 year old William Shatner finding an artistic mentor after watching this on a lazy Saturday afternoon double feature. So join in. Drop into the couch and pour yourself a fresh one. We're gonna be here for a little while. Kanpai !!

- This review contains what some might take as spoilers. -

So this is it. Yup! The `legendary' ancestor of all them gore flicks: `Blood Feast' (read in most dramatic voice)!!! My eagerness to finally watch this `cult' movie totally surpassed the final impression I had after having endured this trashy nonsense. No, let me tell you, this movie is definitely not as worth watching as many so-called connoisseurs would like you to believe. There are, of course, many sequences that will provoke lots of unintended laughter: The incredibly bad acting (I especially loved to see all those `actors' obviously reading off their dialogue parts), the miserable attempt (by director H. G. Lewis himself) at creating a suitable soundtrack, and last but not least the complete lack of talent in terms of direction. Let me admit, though, that the gory effects will surely please the bloodthirsty masses. So let's see what we've got: An eye ripped out of its socket plus a leg hacked off inside a bathtub; a brain torn out of a young lady at the beach; a tongue forcefully ripped out from between another lady's red, red lips; and so on, and so on… Yes! That's all there is to it. Subtlety is completely lost on this movie, but we all DID know beforehand, didn't we?

Well whether you like it or not Blood Feast will always be a landmark movie. This is truly the year zero when it comes to depictions of graphic cinematic violence. Sure it wasn't the first movie to show scenes of gore but it took the concept to an unheard of level, basing the entire movie around the idea. Director H. G. Lewis is nothing if not fearless in his presentation of blood and guts. While the gore scenes are hardly realistic, they are often somewhat nasty. Lewis's subsequent gore movies follow this specific template, where they are simultaneously funny and mean-spirited. A crazy combination that simply should be a disaster but in the case of Blood Feast, the sheer audacity of it is jaw-dropping. It's a film that sure has its flaws. Production values are extremely low and the acting is often mind-boggling. Lewis's camera work is at best, uneven. But, frankly, the scenes of carnage are so in your face, and do not disappoint. The film remains far more violent than most horror films today and it's difficult to imagine what audiences of the early 60's would have made of the atrocities that spooled before their eyes. I expect it must've been a mixture of appalled outrage and morbid glee.

Mal Arnold is pretty unforgettable as the murderous caretaker. His delivery of lines is just nuts; it often looks like he is reading off a board just off-screen. He's a lot of fun. Connie Mason provides the eye-candy and she is hardly an actress, but her stiff line-delivery fits into this trash-opus perfectly. Lewis himself is of course hugely unpretentious and straightforward as a film director, so he basically points the camera at the action and films, there is no artistry in Blood Feast. But this is very much a part of the fun, as this is pure exploitation with no apologies. In my opinion this remains Lewis's best feature. I realise it has many, many faults but I just find the whole thing a very entertaining trash-fest. And one of the most important exploitation films in history too.