It’s far from curtains for Palumbo’s sleaze-fest, Whilst half the additional footage is glorious splatter plated up by none other than the team at Toe Tag Pictures, including Fred Vogel himself, it is another factor which is more likely to make it palatable and that is a little more fleshing out in the plot department.
But Keeper is nothing if not equitable and I shall persevere once more to endeavor at decoding this gargantuan hotchpotch of garish goulash. I can tell you now, in its current format it barely scrapes a five as it simply appears unfinished. I can’t appraise this in its current form and thankfully I have the 103 minute cut backed up on disk so I now have the exclusive pleasure of sitting through the entire experience again, albeit with considerably more meat on its stumps and blood on its gums. Made more work for myself is what it did dagnabbit. It had been neutered of absolutely anything which could be perceived as shocking, leaving 84 minutes of well-shot music videos crudely spliced together to form a whole which defied logic and offered very little enlightenment. It may as well have been PG-13 for all the monstrous dispatches on view. I hadn’t thought to check running time or certification before purchasing this and, if I had, I would’ve been aware that I left the store with the R-Rated cut which is shy of around 22 minutes of footage originally present in its theatrical version. Shockingly abrupt editing, virtually no tangible story arc to speak of and a complete omission of gore. This couldn’t possibly be, what feasible explanation could there be for banning this on UK shores? I rapidly ingested Miss Marple and began to piece together all the evidence. By the time the credits began to roll I felt more than a little short-changed. I lost any concept of time as I lurched from one poorly edited set piece to the next, scratching my dome the entire way. I say that, there may have been a bloody crime scene or two but a smattering of crimson up the walls doesn’t constitute for grue in my book.
Not a refried bean in sight for the entire duration. You can imagine my bemusement then when 84 minutes later I was spewed back out with blood lust entirely unabated. This couldn’t be could it? They say there’s no smoke without fire well Murder Set Pieces had created quite the fog of infamy so there had to be some meat on these bones. I’d heard various negative remarks and, bizarrely for a film never able to gain classification in the UK, a few comments about it being almost bereft of grue. There had just been too much said about this film to not warrant a viewing after all this time so I sat down for my initiation with expectations set realistically. Reason being, you don’t need to be a neuroscientist to suss that it’s gonna tilt rather vigorously towards Exploitation and, outside of Hostel, precious few films of its ilk have appealed over the relentless hordes of more appealing slashers and the like.
Our eyes met across a crowded room and I was powerless to resist fumbling around in my pocket for whatever currency would make this baby mine.įor years now it has been sandwiched into my collection, showing no real desire to stand out from the crowd. Shrink-wrapped and shiny, it was love at first sight. A few years previous, on a Californian trip, I had managed to track down this little obscurity. When I finally decided that I would allow my long-running curiosity get the better of me and actually sat down to explore Nick Palumbo’s upmarket version of his 2000 prototype Nutbag, I came a cropper in spectacular fashion.
It shares many similarities, none more than the actual subject matter although it is a far less coherent narrative, not that Driller Killer was entirely conventional. Audio repetition plays a large part as it did in Ferrera’s movie, but thankfully not the same sorry tune on perpetual loop. Ironically, Murder Set Pieces is not actually that far departed from Abel Ferrera’s study of accelerating madness. Nevertheless it got British Parliament all hett up and, before you could say the words “I don’t think the cord will stretch that far”, it was public enemy number one. Far from the meanest nasty, it only featured flashes of grue, most of which were exhibited on its video sleeve. In the case of Driller Killer it really was a whole mass of nothing in particular. This particular flick is beyond reprehensible and pushes the envelope as far as it possibly can, with no regard for anyone but itself. There’s normally one particular film every generation which courts more controversy than each of its contemporaries and is reviled that little bit more than any other.
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