I saw this movie years ago at a film festival, and ended up looking it up here after it came up in conversation with friends last night, partly to prove to them that I was not making it up, and partly to see for myself if there was actually any record of the film's existence, or if it had sunk into some kind of merciful oblivion after doing the festival circuit.<br /><br />In my festival-going days, I sat through a lot of films that cleared virtually the entire theatre, and usually took a certain pleasure in being one of the last few survivors who made it through to the closing credits. This was the film that caused me to reconsider that practice. Of all the cinematic trainwrecks I've sat through, this was far and away the very worst.<br /><br />I don't even know if I can fully explain why. It's not just that it's essentially two hours of vomiting, disembowelment and cannibalism, interspersed with about the least erotic sex scenes ever committed to film. It's not even just that the above is shot in grainy black and white at torturously slow art-movie pacing (and I couldn't figure out, even at the time, if that made it better or worse). Or the atrociously bad acting. Or the barely existent plot.<br /><br />I think more than anything it's the sheer pointlessness of it all. Given how much time, money and energy it takes to make a feature-length film, you've got to ask: WHY? Why make a film like this? What on earth is the point? And 15 years after seeing it, I still have no answer to that.