Perhaps the most crass, offensive, and amoral sub-genres out there, Nazisploitation tests even the adventurous exploitation fan's conscience. Depicting the very real physical, moral, and spiritual atrocities that the Nazi party inflicted upon minorities and Prisoners of War in secret prison camps during WWII, these sordid shockers make no secret that their mission is to capitalize off historical sufferings, turning agony into primitive 'entertainment' that appeals to the most animalistic and sensationalistic fibre of our being. For this reason, they are hated by mainstream critics and embraced by unapologetic celluloid sensation seekers. Appearing in the mid 1970's, these sleazy yet strangely honest examinations of degradation, rape, and torture (produced primarily in Italy) often suggested a seriousness beneath surface titillation . . . but historical accuracy or some grand quest for human truth was never really the point, exploitation was. Combining the sexual explicitness and humiliation of the standard Women-In-Prison picture with the horrors of Nazi occupation, prisons are transformed into death camps or field brothels, and torment holds sway. The plots of these flicks, and their wide-eyed approach to suffering, are brutally graphic in their depiction of brutality, and don't even bother to ask forgiveness. The callous way which they turn suffering into 'entertainment,' in fact, is part of their dehumanized charm (and their questionable taste). Blitzkrieg, the new shocker inflicted on us by Wild Eye Releasing, is a celebration of sin, skin, and depravity. This bad boy encompasses everything that is raunchy and sleazy about these affronts to good taste. In the context of art and popular entertainment, this is a very fine thing -- a wrathful challenge to the moral majority and oh so sickening 'political correctness' that would seek to silence the right of directors like Keith Crocker to tell whatever kind of story they damn well feel like.
A captivating cocktail of Nazisploitation conventions, Blitzkrieg pays homage to several of its disreputable ancestors by marrying the sexy sadism and harrowing violence of 'real' atrocities with pulpy and lewd exploitation entertainment. Focusing on Germany 1945, Crocker sets the action in a POW camp lorded over by Commandant Helmet Schultz. The camp houses various American, Russian and British prisoners, all of which find themselves victim to Schultz's paranoia and sadistic nature. Using the prisoners in amoral experiments to satisfy his deviant sexuality, Schultz just loves a good torture session. Wolfgang, his second in command, shares his superior's love for debasement, as does the bad-girl Frieda. Jack Jones, an American GI, struggles against the prejudice of his fellow prisoners in attempts to bind them together. But time is running out. Alerted to Schultz's madness, the Gestapo intends to eliminate all traces of the camp before word of its atrocities can leak to the world. Meanwhile a female Russian freedom fighter enacts her own brand of sexy, malicious revenge, using her body against the Nazis in an oh-so-naughty manner.
Graphic sex and violent torture, mental cruelty and shlock - these are the order of the day here. Director Keith Crocker lovingly milks every ounce of degradation from his repulsive scenarios, and uses a surprisingly intelligent story to explore themes of betrayal, lust, and hatred. Along the way he shows not only a penchant for celebrating the filth of this particular sub-genre but, in addition, illustrates a certain knowledge of cruel and opportunistic humanity, depicting us at our worst as women and men wallow in moral and physical cesspools. This movie is hardcore in its attitude, delighting in crossing taboos and pushing the boundaries of exploitation, attracting us with deviancy without any pretence at morality. Blitzkrieg also embodies the contradictions that make these films such unique and troublesome viewing experiences. The very same subjects that make us, as voyeurs, squirm with sick delight are also thrown back at us as accusations. Just as the first of these pictures were influenced by Liliana Cavani's The Night Porter, Tinto Brass's Salon Kitty and Passolini's SALO, so too does Blitzkrieg attempt to be a "Best Of" compilation of its own raunchier cousins, aping Ilsa: She Wolf of the SS, The Beast in Heat, and several others. A sick homage to bondage dreams and rape fantasies, women are stripped naked, abused, and murdered with ferocious brutality. More jarring is the realistic method by which the crew capture these atrocities. A carnival of audacity, this film blurs the fragile line between art and pornography, strengthening the repulsive effect of its violence by a story that, while not particularly sensitive (and certainly not politically correct) does manage to suggest the destructive relationship between victimizer and victim. The abusive treatment of human beings -- the manipulation of both flesh and mind -- suggests beneath the obvious cheap prospect of thrills the disturbing relationship between fear and lust, repulsion and enticement. Don't think for a moment, however, that this is fine art; it isn't. Nor does it pretend to be. Blitzkrieg knows its job is to astound by cruelty, entice by animalistic imagery, and arouse both excitement and anger. It does these things with rigor, making it the most daring and disturbing exploitation roughies to attack the screen this century.
Review by William Simmons
| Released by Wild Eye Releasing |
| Not Rated |