Italy’s
very own ‘Godfather of Gore’ Lucio Fulci, best known for extreme transgressive blood
and guts classics such as Zombie and The Beyond as well as the giallo classic
Don’t Torture a Duckling, ran into a
few problems around the turn of the 1980s.
After severing his creative partnership with screenwriter Dardano
Sacchetti who wrote nearly all of Fulci’s most celebrated films, the director decided
to try winging it alone, moving on to direct outliers like the barbarian
fantasy Conquest or dabbling once
more in giallo with Murder Rock in 1984.
Around
this time, Fulci developed hepatitis shortly after finishing Murder Rock and was hospitalized for
many months before developing cirrhosis and spending another entire year
recuperating at home. It’s important to
consider the departure of Sacchetti coupled with the director’s newly developed
illness when you take a good look at the director’s first film in two years, The Devil’s Honey, when it became
evident Lucio Fulci might have been losing his touch. Those looking for another Zombie are in for a bit of a disappointment.
A
loose reworking of William Wyler’s The
Collector with the genders swapped, The
Devil’s Honey follows Jessica (Blanca Marsillach) whose existence consists
of partaking in kinky sex games with her boyfriend/saxophonist Johnny (Stefano
Madia) including but not limited to a still outlandish opening sequence of Johnny
playing his instrument stuffed in Jessica’s crotch. One day amid the duo’s sexcapades, Johnny
suffers a head injury and collapses into a coma before dying in the stretcher
due to a botched surgery by Dr. Simpson (Brett Halsey). Devastated, Jessica vows revenge against the
doctor and proceeds to kidnap, imprison and make him her sexual slave.
Think
Fifty Shades of Grey Fulci style, The Devil’s Honey occupies a curious
place in Fulci’s oeuvre in that we can see the director’s decline in quality
with little in the way of gore and much in the way of his trademark chauvinism. While displaying no shortage of outlandishness
and shock value, Fulci’s first return to the director’s chair since his
debilitating illness while frequently hilarious tends to fall flat at
times. On the one hand, there’s enough
nudity coupled with increasingly ridiculous antics concocted by the two
dysfunctional lovers in the first half with Blanca Marsillach going the full
distance with almost reckless abandon.
On the other hand the film, which was partially inspired by the director’s
script for Collector’s Item, lacks
the momentum and polish of his 1970s work.
Shot
by Fair of the Dove cinematographer
Alejandro Ulloa, the film bears that trademark ‘80s soft focus glow which dates
the film almost immediately. With a
score by Claudio Natili that sounds very like your typical Zalman King film, the
sleaze factor is undoubtedly through the roof in The Devil’s Honey. And yet
for all of the film’s unabashed carnality, the film is more absurdly funny than
titillating with the infamous saxophone opening scene spoiled on some
theatrical posters garnering more hilarity than horniness.
Strictly
for dedicated Fulci fans and those keen on the so-called erotic thriller, The Devil’s Honey while intended for
theaters was renamed Dangerous Obsession in
the US before being dumped straight to video in a heavily censored version. Thanks to the dedicated efforts of Severin
Films, however, a new digital master was created with plentiful extras. While not a good starting point for newcomers
to Fulci, The Devil’s Honey remains
an interesting if not wacky moment in the director’s career where he tried his
hand at a genre outside of his comfort zone.
It doesn’t always work but will leave an impression likely to make you
gasp or snicker in disbelief.
Score:
- Andrew Kotwicki