Case Number 03697


Monarex // 1959 // 100 Minutes // Not Rated
Reviewed by Judge David Johnson // December 12th, 2003

The Charge

A walking nightmare...a modern day vampire...pure evil in his own world of madness!

Opening Statement

Supposedly based on a true story, Bloodlust tells the story of, we'll call him "Crazy-Ass Crazy Man" (Werner Pochath), and his descent into perversion, voyeurism, oodles of blood-drinking, and murder.

Facts of the Case

Poor Crazy-Ass Crazy Man. Deaf and mute and no one likes him. At work, fellow employees, who show complete disregard for any kind of office sexual harassment policy (note Boorish Coworker 1 as he engages in faux-sex with a blow-up doll) abuse him on a daily basis. On the streets, he zips around on a crappy little yellow moped. And at home, his affinity for a neighboring whacko (Ellen Umlauf) slowly brings his churning cauldron of demented id to a boil; add to that his recurring traumatic memories of an abusive father, his penchant to drink the blood of the dead while stockpiling some choice body parts, an increasing desire for foul play, and that crappy little yellow moped, and we've got one gentleman who's poised for a huge, graceful dive off the deep end.

The Evidence

And that's exactly where this movie belongs: the deep end. The deep end of what? Doesn't matter. The sea, the YMCA pool, the pond behind my house, anywhere, as long as it's deep and brings the existence of this coaster to an end.

The movie itself does not indict this disc; it's the presentation. But we'll get to that later.

Bloodlust takes its time to get rolling. And once it does roll, we're talking about a football down a gentle hill. At 100 minutes, the movie waxes The Thornbirds as far as perceived length. Get cozy, because you'll be snoozing in parts.

But rest assured, when you hit the provocative parts, you'll perk up, and most likely cringe. In some startlingly graphic depictions (startling because the movie prior to these moments gives no warning of what lies ahead), our central figure pops out eyeballs, severs heads, bludgeons fornicators to death, and slurps blood through a straw.

The effects, in your face and copious, really aren't too shoddy. I consider myself one of fairly strong constitution, but the sight of this guy running around with his mouth soaked in bright red blood, like he'd been downing A-positive Kool-Aid™, made me long for the subtle, implied gore of Saving Private Ryan.

So the feature itself has some merits (if you're drawn to the whole "middle-aged-moped-riding-vampire-wannabe-blood-slurper" genre), but the treatment it gets from Monarex is laughable.

Who would have thought Artisan's labeling "Scene Access" would indeed be a special feature, but thanks to Bloodlust's absolute lack of chapter selection, I appreciate that which I take for granted. If you stop the movie, be prepared to scan like crazy, because that's all you can do here.

Monarex also gives you English and Spanish translations, though neither are the original soundtrack, and both are shoddily dubbed, plus the original trailer. And

The full-frame picture is a below-average transfer from an undoubtedly below-average stock print. Dolby Stereo really brings that poor dubbing to life.

Closing Statement

Hey if you're looking for a cerebral, and at some points shocking, horror movie, this may be your cup of tea. Or cup of something. Everyone else, stick with needlepoint.

The Verdict

All parties involved in this disc's production and design are ordered to wear huge signs that say: WE HAVE NO BUSINESS MAKING DVDS. SOMEBODY PLEASE PUNCH US IN THE NECKS.

Review content copyright © 2003 David Johnson; Site layout and review format copyright © 1998 - 2016 HipClick Designs LLC

Scales of Justice
Video: 70
Audio: 70
Extras: 40
Acting: 75
Story: 75
Judgment: 66

Perp Profile
Studio: Monarex
Video Formats:
* Full Frame

Audio Formats:
* Dolby Digital 2.0 Stereo (English)
* Dolby Digital 2.0 Stereo (Spanish)

* None

Running Time: 100 Minutes
Release Year: 1959
MPAA Rating: Not Rated

Distinguishing Marks
* Trailer

* None