The scene is Bogotá, Colombia, in the late '90s as the era encroaches on the millennium. On El Cartucho, a street in the city known for its rampant crime and impoverished residents, a man named Froilan Orozco set up an embalming business in the middle of the urban decay. Every day, dead bodies are found in the streets, surrounded by crowds of onlookers as the authorities come to scoop them up and deliver them to Orozco's waiting arms. Death is a booming industry in El Cartucho. Assistants deliver a coffin to Orozco's office, a gunshot victim in a closed casket, and in the background, even more gunshots can be heard in the distance, though nobody pays heed to them. They are as common as the birds chirping in the trees.
Orozco the Embalmer (2001) is a film about death, real death, up close and decidedly impersonal. Orozco himself seems to be zen and outwardly indifferent, at one point holding a limp and lifeless infant up to the camera like a doll plucked from a toybox. He does have a certain respect for the deceased though, enjoying dressing the corpses up for the viewings and funerals, taking pride in his work, his art. It is an art to make the dead look presentable, as everything about them subconsciously repulses the living, likely as a defense mechanism, a temporary reprieve from decomposition.
The director, Kiyotaka Tsurisaki, specializes in photographing dead bodies and knows exactly where to place the camera for the best view. Even if one doesn't believe in souls or the afterlife, it's apparent that whatever spark animates people who are alive is gone, and watching the embalmers go about their work draining the bodies and manipulating the limbs feels strangely like the uncanny valley. One worker casually flips a woman's face inside out so he can insert her skull top, chit-chatting with the interviewer while he works. The interviewer exclaims, "Your job is fucking crazy!" and the worker is inclined to agree.
The visual style of this film is a key element that enhances its unsettling nature. Its SOV digital look and washed-out colors create an unreal aura, making the scenes even more creepy. When there isn't happy carnival-like cumbia music playing, the audience is treated to the wet squelching of Orozco digging internal organs out of the bodies or the drip of blood and body fluids. These moments are also punctuated by atonal musical cues, transforming it into a horror film.
While Orozco the Embalmer sounds like a sensationalized mondo film on paper, the latter half of the film takes an intriguing, more philosophical turn. Orozco dies. He doesn't die from an accident or from a violent crime; it's a slower death from health issues that came from his line of work. What is it like to approach death with such intimate knowledge of what happens to one's body afterward? Is it calming to know that passing away is the great equalizer, that everyone essentially becomes a bag of meat? In its ironic twist, the ending feels inevitable in the environment it portrays. There is no difference between the embalmer and the corpse, only the passage of time and circumstance.
Special Features
-Brand New 1080p HD Master
-Uncompressed Original Spanish PCM Audio
-Removable English Subtitles
-A Look Back at Orozco the Embalmer: Interview with Director (2024)
-Words with the Director (2011)
-Extensive stills gallery
-Trailers for other Massacre Video Releases
--Michelle Kisner