La camera della tortura

Another of Andy Milligan's endearingly disjointed period-piece horror films...if you've been subjected to any of his other projects, then you pretty much know what's in store. If, however, you're among the uninitiated...well...there's honestly nothing that can possibly prepare you for that particular rite of passage.

As is the case with all things Milligan, TORTURE DUNGEON is entirely obstinate toward every orthodox countenance of filmmaking procedure. Contributing to its off-center allure is a creatively impetuous, Scheherazadian spiel of medieval treachery and lust for power. You just know that a movie's storyline has been slapped around by Andy Milligan when it incorporates gay hunchback love, one-eyed hags, stilted Olde English dialog, and gratuitous pitchfork gore. Plus, being the joke-of-all-trades that he was, Milligan also gave personal appointment to the wardrobe department, resulting in the film's unique visual flair which may be best described as polyacrylic Renfaire psychosis.

Is there anything not to like about this? 11/10

To many people Andy Milligan is the worst thing that ever happened to motion pictures. Some people say he makes Edward D. Wood Jr look like Orson Welles by comparison. To me though, Andy was a friend and a teacher. I met him quite by accident in the mid 1980's after being exposed to some of his movies at a rundown cinema in the toughest part of town. We became fast friends and I would listen for hours to him describe how he stretched a budget dollar to lengths even Roger Corman would envy. He described how he shot TORTURE DUNGEON with one camera and how he edited every scene in the camera by having one character do his or her dialogue and then switch the camera to do the other person reacting and back to the first person and so on. He remarked how hard it was to get some of the actors (I use the term very loosely) to stay in character while he constantly shifted the camera setup. Andy never used a light meter, recorded all sound "live" and seldom did more than 2 takes of any scene. Okay yes, his movies are poorly acted, badly paced, overly talky, and the makeup and effects are . . .well you get the idea. The point is Andy Milligan took the time to befriend me when I was still an aspiring film-maker and taught me how HE did things to save time and money.

Andy I miss you, and I enjoy watching your movies despite their shortcomings. Thanks pal.

Wow what was Andy thinking when he made this. A costume drama gore romp with the usual mix of wobbly sets, superb acting and the best chase scene I have ever seen. One of the charectors (I cant remember which one) jump's onto a horse and off he goes to say the buxom wench from the evil clutches of the sadistic Lord.On horseback he goes from left to right , towards us and away, crossing the line a good dozen times , which gives the impression of his going in circles , unintentionally hilarious. With the usual mix of cheap gore and ludicrously un erotic sex scenes this is another must for anyone interested in the world that Milligan created

It almost seems inconceivable in this day and age that someone would attempt the pomp and pageantry of a ye Olde England costume gore epic on a budget LESS than a cross-town ferry ride. And yet Torture Dungeon, the first film for producer William Mishkin's newly crowned Constitution Films, is filmic proof that Andy Milligan's audacity knew no bounds. Cue credits, the music - straight from a 40s Gary Cooper western - swells, and a procession of medieval misfits make their way down a deserted Staten Island beach, looking for all the world like a lost borstal passion play, carrying the coffin of the newly-dead king, beheaded in the film's opening by the prissy yet evil Duke of Norwich (`Jerremy Brooks'/Gerry Jacuzzo). The Duke, last in line to the throne and sterile to boot, hatches a plan to marry off the new king, who would plant the royal seed in the Queen's fertile soil. Once plowed, the Queen becomes the unwilling property of the Duke, and the remaining heirs are dispatched to their untimely deaths.

Hal Borske plays the new king strictly for cheap laughs: he's a bumbling half-wit in a blonde pageboy frightwig who eats bugs on all fours and shows more interest in nailing his plate of chicken than his new queen. His on-screen presence is cut short soon after the `conception' scene, and he gets the obligatory stake to the heart. Blood erupts like tomato soup, exit Hal. And in every one of the death scenes from Torture Dungeon, Andy's camera careers around and plummets to the ground as if it was dropped from a Staten Island ferris wheel. There's even a script direction for this: `Swirl Camera'. Now stick that one in the text books.

Unlike The Ghastly Ones, where the gore comes thick and fast, Torture Dungeon spaces its bloodshed, which leaves wide open spaces in the script for Andy's manic exposition. One scene plays like a psychedelic sex hygiene film of the 50s and features a crazed old harridan (a member of Andy's theatrical troupe?) preparing the new queen for her wifely duties while floating around the room on PCP. The Sadean Duke endlessly waxes lyrical about his personal philosophy, declaring himself `not a heterosexual, not homosexual, not asexual - I'm trisexual. I'll TRY anything.' An old chestnut, I know, but from the mouths of Milligan's characters it takes on a new sinister tone. In another memorable scene the depraved duke is caught in bed with a hunchback, unloved and beaten as a child and corrupted by the uncaring world and now the Duke's assassin and willing love slave. So, he says to his wife with a perverse sneer - ever heard of a menage a trois?

With the exception of the garish costumes (an area Andy always excelled at), the production is threadbare at every turn. The torture chamber itself looks like my Brisbane city basement, for chrissakes, and the effect of the evil Duke swinging a chain sounds suspiciously like Andy on a microphone going `Whoosh! Whoosh!' Voices veer wildly from the fruity and over-theatrical Jacuzzo to the flat Noo York drawl from the mouths of some suitably plague-scarred bookies and old Mafia types in Beatles wigs, uttering lines like `the dook of Nor-witch' with deadpan conviction. Local color, but wrong locality. And I think I spotted a Ramone or two in the funeral procession.

yes! ugly. yes! hate filled. yes the greatest trash film-maker ever!!

andy does shakespeare!!! and i love it!!!!

thank you jimmy mcdonough for legitimising the manic craft of andy milligan. playwright, fashion designer, film maker!!!

way back when andy's films were just a naive trash-film fanatics ultimate wet-dream you were there, documenting, analysing and indeed living the insanity that was andy milligan.

and there i was thinking that no-one could be as enraptured as i was by his sleazy yet wonderfully visionary films. silly me!!

before i read your staggering biography, i had this bizarre notion that he was some kind of mild mannered homo wanna-be zero-budget auteur.

but now that i have read your magnificent biography, i realise that andy milligan was much more complicated and dynamic than i could ever have imagined.

i don't know whether to laugh or cry when i watch his films but i DO know that no other film-maker has ever affected me the way andy milligan has.

andy milligan fans of the world unite!! you have nothing to lose but your chains. now is not the time to be modest, insist that your so-called friends and and loved-ones watch this film now!!!!

and if they resist, nail them to a tree! (tee hee!!)