A Ilha da Morte

Of all the infamous nasties out there Island of Death, for me seemed to be one of the more luridly attractive ones. I.e. contained the most depravity! Having finally tracked down a reasonably priced and uncut version of the film I finally got to see what all the fuss is about.

It is certain from the outset that explicit violence and gore are not what got this film banned. The nails through the hands and force-fed paint scenes are certainly no worse than what you see in glossy 15-rated Hollywood horrors now. I think what offended with this one is not so much the actions of the film's murderers, Celia and Christopher but the lifestyles of their victims.

Oh yes, gay, lesbian and straight, the promiscuous and the drug users are all in the cross-hair here. The film maker even takes time out to execute a black detective. Just for having the audacity to try and bring good old Chris and Celia to justice.

While the violence is muted the sleaze certainly isn't. Things bash along in a fashion that stops a little shy (a little too shy if you ask me) of softcore porn. But don't worry, what it lacks in explicitness it more than makes up for in frequency. You will be pleased to know that the absolutely gorgeous heroine (or should that be villainess) played exceptionally woodenly by Jane Ryall only ever keeps herself covered up for thirty seconds at a time.

In truth Island of Death is worth it for Ryall alone. She genuinely looks good enough to eat and that whole ditsy, can't act thing that she does only serves to heighten her appeal! For me anyway. Rather disturbingly, the comely Ms Ryall appeared briefly in one other crap Greek film and then was never heard from again. I mourn.

The story of Island of Death is the usual poor fodder, although certainly superior to many. The Bonnie and Clyde thing is never fully realised however as it is implied that Christopher is the real psycho and Celia is just meekly caught up in his wake - occasionally looking wretched and criticising his actions. But yet she carries out probably the most cold killing in the whole film. What the hell is that all about? Either make her a proper victim or a proper villain. It also irked me a bit the speed at which she turns on Christopher at the end. Mind you, this is trash cinema after all. Island of Death plays out almost like a crap sex comedy and that isn't a bad thing. No one likes a bad film that takes itself too seriously.

This is definitely one for fans of trash films and 'so bad its good stuff' (me). The acting is universally poor with a couple of the characters apparently just reading their lines conversationally.

Aside from that however, it actually looks quite professionally made. The shots are reasonably framed and the camera-work not too static. The editing has dated it a bit but that just lends it that inimitable sleazy 70's feel.

So thats about it, nasty in tone, but not in action perhaps? A little kinky, certainly: Just check out the promiscuous older woman being urinated on. Does it deserve its infamy? Probably not, but its still a good bit better than most of the dross on the nasty's list.

Oh yeah, bring back Jane Ryall.

This is one of the original 'video nasties', and still only available in a heavily cut version in the UK (although easily available in uncut R1 format). Apparently made quickly to make cash for its first time director Nico Mistorakis, it is the story of a young tourist couple, Christopher and Celia who arrive on the picturesque island of Mykonos. At first we think them innocents, entering a world of terror. Soon it turns out that in fact they are the monsters, Christopher in particular being concerned to rid the word of 'perverts', photographing the mayhem as they go through local acquaintances - at first for kicks, then to cover their tracks. Much of the film is just a pretext for a catalogue of imaginative slaughter. The acting is variable at best (Jayne Ryall, playing Celia looking particularly bemused at the whole business, and this was her only film). The film includes sex and rape, both human and animal but, like so much of its ilk, is ironically coy about these physical acts, showing only such nudity and rare bursts of pubes as would sit easily in a softcore sex comedy. The exception is perhaps the urination scene which, because it is so unexpected and rare away from porno cinema, does at least raise eyebrows. The much vaunted 'goat rape' is patently faked and unconvincing but, as it takes place very early on at least alerts viewers to the real nature of the psychopathic Chris.

Surprisingly for a film with such a strong reputation, none of the violence really shocks today, although the range of deaths (by crucifixion and paint poisoning, hanging from a plane wing, heroin overdose, sword and scythe, bulldozer, etc) have an ingenious variety - a testimony to the director's plan to outdo competing exploitation films in range. Celia's bathtub rape is loud and threatening, but that of Susan George in the newly uncut UK issue of Straw Dogs is much more disturbing as well as actually being 'concluded' in the scene. It's another case, I would suggest, of sensibilities having moved on, leaving the BBFC unduly squeamish in cutting so much. Victims of the homicidal holidaymakers include homosexuals, lesbians, a middle aged nymphomaniac, 2 hippies, a Frenchman, a policeman (sent to track the notorious duo down) and so on.

More of interest is the way in which the film provides continuous ironic inversion on a normal holiday narrative. The attractive island, full of native white buildings, blue skies and sunshine, looks to be straight out of a travel brochure, and our sense of place is aided by some reasonable good cinematography. Chris and Celia are the 'tourists' who are visiting, relaxing, and taking plenty of pictures. The difference being of course that they are snapping the humiliated, dead and dying rather than the serene landscape around them, making themselves a different sort of vacation altogether. `We do everything vice versa' as she says, and the film gains most of its power from the stream of atrocity-attractions visited upon the community in this peculiar context. It's their casual return to traditional holiday locales (the local taverna, romantic beach walks or cosy white washed rooms) between murders which is ultimately more disturbing than anything done in the meantime. Island of Death still bears watching, and is considerably better worked than some of the other 'nasties'. If you take this as a recommendation of course, that's up to you.

Director Nico Mastorakis has made a cynical cash-grabber (by his own admission) that is too cynical to impress anybody but a sophomore genre fan.

The most extreme, confronting genre pics, to paraphrase a character in VIDEODROME, "have a philosophy"; that is what makes them dangerous.

ISLAND OF DEATH's philosophy is to throw many "shocking" elements into a cinematic mix and stir slowly. The result is a dish with no taste but an ugly appearance.

Not to be confused with Serrador's brilliant WHO COULD KILL A CHILD? (sometimes called ISLAND OF DEATH), Mastorakis's effort is set on a Greek island which is a stage for various forms of slaughter, a little bestiality and some wholesale perversion.

Everything moves at a snailish pace and the violent set pieces are poorly directed.

Touted as "The movie that the censors didn't want you to see", I'd hazard a guess that the censors never saw it, they simply read the presskit until their knees jerked upwards.

This movie is really twisted, I loved it! If you're easily offended by extreme sexual and violent content, don't see it! Death scenes are numerous and sometimes very original. The lead female is never dressed for more than 3 minutes (she's a beauty) and when she takes it off prepare to see something pretty BAD happening. She and her "husband" hate deviant people, they want them all dead. The only problem they have is that they ended up on an island where almost no one is "normal", it's like a perverts heaven so the job is never finished... Acting isn't so bad and the landscapes are so beautiful they made me want to see the island of Mykonos with my own eyes. The ending is a must see, I can't even find the words to explain it but its some kind of a sweet revenge for the goat that we see in the beginning of the movie...

Though the concept is dated, 'Ta Paidia Tou Diavolou' (a.k.a. 'Island of Death' or 'Devils in Mykonos') could have been a better film if the story had layers and the execution did not have a B-grade feel. The movie itself seems to primarily rely on violence and shock value rather than story (which is perhaps secondary). Christopher and Celia are initially depicted as a likable romantic couple who are visiting a Greek Island. Director Nico Mastorakis does not waste time in showing that this couple is insane. However, what I felt missing was the answer to the question why? Christopher is a psychopath who engages in acts of bestiality, rape, murder, torture and he likes to photograph them but what's the story behind this sick fascination? Celia is his partner in crime and the secret behind their relationship is revealed in the end but here too the big why question remains unanswered. As a result, most of the violence appears gratuitous. However, Mykonos is portrayed quite beautifully. It makes me want to visit the place on a holiday. The acting ranges from average to bad but Jane Lyle is good in some sequences, especially when her facial expression changes from fear to a cold smile. Slightly campy, this exploitation film has obtained cult status but it could have easily been a better film had more attention been given to the story and execution.