Island of Death (1977)

(Note: Originally published at Bad Movies Marathon)

Here comes the first Video Nasty in the Bad Movies Marathon, Island of Death. What is remarkable is that its own creator, Nico Mastorakis, confesses that it was no exercise in decent film making. Having observed the commercial success of Tobe Hooper's spectacular Texas Chainsaw Massacre, Mastorakis decided to make an even more depraved, violent movie to make money, and penned the piece of crap in a week.
Depraved it is, especially in light of the finale's revelation about the 'protagonist' couple. Violent, I guess it is too. By '70s standards, anyhow. Gratuitous and inexplicable, the violence most definitely is, which I guess is what makes it so defined as an Exploitation flick. Oh, that and the actors being pretty much always naked.                                                                  
                                                                               

Supposed newlyweds Christopher (Robert Belling) and Celia (Jane Ryall) arrive on a Greek island, doing everything newlyweds do, except in a remarkably public fashion. The scene in which the couple fornicate in a phone box, while on the line to Christopher's mother is awkward enough, but when the aforementioned revelation in the closing minutes hits, everything you have just seen is all the more abominable. In a mind-bending set of contradictions, the couple are Christian fanatics, intent on ridding the world of evil. So, with this wholesome goal in mind, they set about screwing and murdering everybody on the island, in that order. And don't think that they only do humans. One morning, young Christopher's advances are rejected by a sleeping Celia. His solution: an act which spawned the following conversation on IMDb, which is pure comedy gold.

           - The goat was clearly underage, too...that's just sick.
             
                    - Yeah, it did seem like it was still a KID

Exploitation Films tend to attach themselves to one sub-genre, which have some interesting names, such as 'blaxploitation,' 'nunsploitation,' and my personal favourite, 'hixploitation.' Island of Death, however, contains every dirty trick in the book. Torture, rape, murder, homosexuality, orgies, incest, bestiality, homophobia, racism...all wrapped into one trashy little package. And all apparently in the name of Jesus Christ. The main actors, particularly Jane Ryall, are naked so frequently, and only dress in between so we are shocked when they again undress. I guess it works; after the tenth or twelfth nude scene from Ryall, upon getting publicly naked once more, I started to sigh, "Oh, come on, seriously?" It's so regular it becomes tedious, and it is never in the least bit erotic. Very softcore porn, perhaps, but never erotic.

So, there we have all the technical criteria for an Exploitation movie ticked, let's fill in the gaps in terms of production. Filmed in Greece, by Greek film makers, with very little money, and even less talent. The characters behind the actors are questionable. Neither can act, and both had brief careers in Exploitation pictures, before either disappearing off the face of the Earth (Ryall) or committing suicide after years of seclusion (Belling). IMDb discussors make an interesting assessment about Ryall, noting that her brief stint in Anglo-Greek movies may suggest she was the girlfriend of some Greek film maker, and when they separated her stint in cinema was over. This sounds very probable to me. It's such a shame there's little to no trace of many Exploitation actors, it would make one hell of a documentary talking to them.

In a style reminiscent of Wes Craven's Last House on the Left, the visual horror is accompanied by a ridiculously funky folk soundtrack, which, contrary to the effect Craven achieved, pushes the audience over the edge of tolerance, and makes it all laughable. Mastorakis said himself that he just wanted to make money from this movie, but unfortunately I doubt he even did that. It sank into the more obscure ranks of the 72 Video Nasties, which is the only motivation for my viewing it, but apparently warranted a DVD release by Mastorakis, so maybe he did make his millions after all. I wonder if Jane Ryall, wherever she is now, is still receiving royalties for her two hours of softcore infamy.