I first discovered the films of Nicholaidis in the late 80's on late-night TV and double-feature after midnight screenings. What attracted me to these events was the second feature-usually an American or Italian horror film. The way I had to sit through films that I would not have chosen otherwise to see. On two of those occasions the first features were the Nicholaidis films Glykia Symmoria and Kourelia Tragoydoyn Akoma.
Singapore Sling came out a couple of years later, and everyone was rushing to the theatre to watch this tale of bloodlust, weird sex, and bodily fluids. The only major turn-off was the black and white photography, which didn't do much favor to the shock scenes.
Despite its reputation as a cult film, Singapore Sling didn't put its director on the A-list. He spent the rest of his film career making films that were poor imitations of his earlier successes. Some of these are considered downright unwatchable even by his most devoted fans.
A couple of years after the director passed away, this little documentary showed up. I don't know exactly what the title means-maybe it implies the director is still making films in the otherworld. The trend of two- word titles where the first word is a gerund verb has certainly been overused and most definitely owes its existence to Lawrence Block when he came up with the title "Killing Castro."
The footage that makes up Directing Hell can be divided into two sections. The first one is mostly friends of the director-filmmakers, actors, musicians-shooting the crap. Their stories are probably too cryptic for uninitiated viewers, but that's ok, since it doesn't seem likely that someone unfamiliar with the films of Nicholaidis will sit to watch this documentary.
We all know that a documentary is only as good as its subject matter- despite the director's choice of some rather unusual camera angles. It's as if he was trying to direct an art film. Unlike other documentaries that take a similar approach-The Art of Killing comes in mind-at least he does not overdo it.
Apart from the talking heads, you also get plenty of clips edited in such a manner, which may give the (wrong) impression to casual viewers that the films of Nicholaidis were a rapid succession of scenes featuring a lot of sex and violence.
Sure, there was plenty of skin, but the excitement is on the same level as an Alan Robert Grille film. As for the gorehounds searching the next big thrill, you're better off searching elsewhere.
Being pretty much products of their time, the films of Nicholaidis nowadays seem dated. The notion of a post-apocalypse film set in an old factory and an empty movie theatre would not seem very appealing to modern day viewers.
The documentary itself would be better suited as a complimentary feature on a blue-ray release rather than a standalone feature.
As I mentioned above, it's targeted to viewers who are already familiar with the bizarre filmic world of Nicholaidis. A world populated by deadbeats, lunatics, hookers, and junkies. A perfect mirror of Greek society.
Maybe someone ought to have shown these films to the E. U banks before they started lending money to Greece, with a "Don't say we didn't warn you!" memo attached.
