From the film’s IMDB.com page citation:
“Dead beings and a bloodsucking lizard-man populate this atmospheric and bizarre European gothic shocker! Scientist Michael Sherrington conducts strange experiments on the transmutation of human cells, which involves hibernating bodies and pumping chemicals into the bloodstream. One night he decides to perform these tests on himself and winds up buried in the local cemetery. When he returns to consciousness, the results will leave you screaming!”
Without getting too deeply into some really, really, really unnecessary weeds, I’ve no problem admitting right up front that Necrophagous (1971) just didn’t quite strike a chord with me. While some critics feel the necessity to justify each and every component of a production that he or she found substandard, I’ve found more often than not that genre fans – specifically those folks drawn to Horror – prefer knowing ‘the bullet points’ instead of debating minutiae they deem inconsequential. So, in that respect, let me hit a few specifics.
First, there’s very little in here that makes this one Horror.
Now, I’m not saying that to disparage writer/director Miguel Madrid. Necrophagous has the basic structure down pat – there’s a series of unexplained deaths of locals to a small village, and it isn’t until the grieving husband Michael Sherrington (played by Bill Curran) returns home demanding the truth behind his wife’s and his newborn daughter’s demise during childbirth that the story takes shape – and yet our seeming lead kinda/sorta disappears (no, I won’t spoil it) for no reason that relates to the film’s central thread. Yes, it’s tied to the guilty culprit, but as his disappearance plays no key piece of how this one gets solved, I’m at a loss to see why Madrid decided – at any time in the process – that this was a good plan. It robs the film of any relatability, and it shackles viewers with a group of less interesting players for far too much of the action.
Second, Necrophagous rarely feels like a legitimate Horror film.
Okay, I can hear you screaming out there in cyberspace, expecting further details on how something with mysterious murders and some possible nefarious creature misses that mark. Well, again, this could get into voluminous details if it mattered, but I’m insisting that it doesn’t. These – ahem – murders are largely bloodless; and the – ahem – suggestion of a creature winds up being handled so ineptly on film that it’s far more laughable than it is frightening. The prosthetics are good – what little we see of them – and it’s occasionally staged in a manner that’s interesting; but because Madrid chooses to shroud things with camera trickery and questionable shot angles it’s devoid of any real tension … the key component to giving any true scare the pulse it needs to survive on its own. This one? It’s just captured with too much nebulousness, and it fails.
Lastly … and this is the hardest one to discuss, honestly … Necrophagous feels very much like a first picture when, in reality, it came reasonably late in the writer/director’s catalogue.
Whether you know this or not, cinema is a language all of its own. Stories vary widely, but the presentation – in order to achieve effectiveness – requires that directors follow certain rules. Actors must stand in the exact same position when the camera shifts to another angle; if they don’t, then the continuity person didn’t do his or her job or the scene was never shot as part of the previous segment’s dialogue. Sequences shot at night need each and every piece to be shot under the same set of circumstances: if a midnight run suddenly turns into something more akin to a late afternoon skyline – something with vastly greater light – then this breakdown pulls the audience out of the narrative rhythm, and they’re left questioning what the hell happened to the dark? Furthermore, night sequences – when they’re obviously lit by those massive studio lamps in such a poor fashion – have to be delicately presented in order to preserve any scene before or after their airing.
Necrophagous is rife with technical errors from start-to-finish. Some might be negligible – certainly there are a few laughable whoppers in here – but the additive quality of the experience truly robs the story of any intellectual weight as well as any ability to deliver even the hint of a organized tale. There are folks who might pick up and relish this disk because it’s such an inept composition, and – if you’re that type – then more power to you.
As for me?
I like even a bad film to make sense visually and textually. I’ll forgive the occasional blemish, but this one? Wow. This one was damn near D.O.A.
Necrophagous (1971) (aka The Butcher Of Binbrook) was produced by Films Internacionales (FISA). DVD distribution (for this particular release) has been coordinated by the fine folks at Severin Films. As for the technical specifications? While I’m no trained video expert, I can assure you that the provided sights-and-sounds to what’s reported as an all-new 2K scan from a recently discovered negative are probably about as good as they’re ever going to me. It ain’t bad, but it sure is underwhelming in spots. Lastly, if you’re looking for special features? This is Severin Films – and they do have a solid reputation with this stuff – so I’m providing the copy-and-paste of the materials from their press release from Blu-ray.com:
Special Features and Technical Specs:
- New 4K Restoration (the release indicates 2K)
- Audio Commentary With Andy Marshall-Roberts, Host Of The Nasty Pasty Podcast (FYI: it’s respectable, though a bit lacking in film specifics)
- Something You've Never Seen – Appreciation By Ángel Sala, Head Of Programming At The Sitges Film Festival
- The First Horror Film Festival In The World – Remembrance By Maria Pilar Rafáles, Daughter Of Sitges Film Festival Founder Antonio Rafáles
- Trailers
- Audio: English Mono, Spanish Mono / Closed Captions
- Region-Free
Alas … this one is honestly very difficult to recommend on any level.
Sigh. Having screened as many low-budget and no-budget experiences as I have, I can appreciate when any storyteller mounts damn near any production so long as there’s a measure of narrative cohesiveness. Sadly, that just isn’t the case with Necrophagous (1971) as this one contains a horribly uneven pace from start-to-finish along with several scenes and sequences that either (A) defy logic or (B) don’t seem to have any authentic reason to be here in the first place. While some elements suggest a level of complicity amongst the characters, very little seems to tie-up neatly in a bow in the Scooby-Doo style finish, complete with voiceover narration from the guilty party … who I thought was – erm – dead? This one isn’t even worth the unintended laughs, folks, and that’s truly sad.
In the interests of fairness, I’m pleased to disclose that the fine folks at Severin Films provided me a complimentary Blu-ray of Necrophagous (1971) – as part of the Danza Macabra: Volume Three – The Spanish Gothic Collection – by request for the expressed purposes of completing this review. Their contribution to me in no way, shape, or form influenced my opinion of it.
-- EZ