PIECES

A decade of designer deaths, spectacularly lurid violence, and moral decadence, the 1980s ushered in a new brave era of horror filmmaking. Continuing where the rude and rowdy 70s left off, the years of Ronald Regan and Britain's 'Video Nasties' saw the rise of genre films delighting in body counts and crossing taboos of cultural acceptance and taste. Gratuitous nudity, FX wizardry, and atmosphere reigned supreme, resulting in terrors more visceral and shocking than ever before. Unfortunately, as tales of psychological madness and supernatural terror dug deeper into the charnel pit, the time-honoured traditions of proper storytelling were thrown away as quickly as a bimbo's clothes. Nuances of plot and careful characterization took a backseat to mayhem, and watching a jiggling pair of breasts became more important than plot consistency. The Slasher film was at its heyday, following in the bloody footprints of its Italian cousin the Giallo, and the art of murder had suddenly eclipsed the craft of storytelling. While this undoubtedly set back the intellectual and philosophical integrity of the genre, viewers were compensated with some of the most shocking and visceral images to ever splatter the screen. A wonderful example of the sheer audacity, verve, and, yes, stupidity of this period is Pieces. Directed by J.P. Simon, this demented orgy of gaping plot holes and sleaze also happens to be one of the greatest guilty pleasures ever slapped to celluloid. Chainsaws rend, flesh tears, heads topple, and both male and female nudity bounces around with abandon. Not a well-crafted story by any means, this unapologetic gore-fest is content (and proud) to rush the audience from one spectacularly jaw dropping set- piece of dismemberment to the next. As a no holds barred assault on the stomach, Pieces succeeds with sheer energy and balls. Grindhouse, the fiends who brought us gorgeous editions of Cannibal Ferox and Cannibal Holocaust, now show the love to this oft-neglected ode to bad taste, presenting it uncut and re-mastered with a slew of extras.

In a now retro nod to practically every slasher film made in the 80s, Pieces begins with a prologue, diving right into the red stuff without wasting time. Instead of setting scene or character, we're beat on the head with a very disturbing parallel between sexuality and violence as a little boy working on the puzzle of a nude woman is verbally abused by his mother. Threatening to kill him if she finds such filth again, and taunting him about his dead father, the woman is too upset to notice the little tyke brandishing an axe, with which he proceeds to chop her into various pieces. Forty years later, we see a hand assembling the nude puzzle together again. At the same time a killer is viciously murdering women on a college campus in Boston, stealing various body parts from the victims. Lieutenant Bracken (Christopher George) is soon on the case and recruits tennis player Mary (Lynda Day George) and 'stud' college student Kendall (Ian Sera) to aid him in capturing the murderer. The murders increase in number and brutality, in various exotic settings, after several exciting chases. Of course the staging and brutality of these killings are of paramount importance, taking the place of real characters. Thankfully they deliver, celebrating the art of death in excruciating detail. Some of the highlights include a messy stabbing on a waterbed, chainsaw limb-whacking, and decapitation. And while you may hope our heroes discover the killer before he finishes assembling his dream woman, no one can justify (or explain) the ludicrous ending.

The plot to Pieces is every bit as much fragmented as the life size doll that the villain assembles from messily chopped off torsos and legs. This is its great failing when examined as a story but its unintentional triumph as pure exploitation. There is no question as to the unbelievably of the premise, the ridiculousness of the dialogue, or the wooden instability of the characters. There is also no doubt that the story evokes repulsion, thrills, and emotional interest in the cast and situations despite such failings. Recklessly entertaining, this circus of flesh being fondled, ripped, and reassembled is just as sickly as you think, and just as joyfully disdainful of good taste. The murders are filmed with such abandon -- and with such honesty -- that they become the true characters, the events which keep the story afloat. An embodiment of 80s excess, Pieces not only lived up to its wonderfully tasteless, knock 'em around add campaign, but is just as disturbing today. The blood doesn't just drip, it sprays! And if you think violence is the only excess which good old Simon indulges in, think again. Women here need no excuse to whip off their tops or lather down, nor do the boys! Nudity, shoddy 80s fashions, and handicapped cops are as abundant as the chainsaw vivisections. And that is the point in this sort of picture. Thrills and plenty of them! As with so many pictures from this genre and period, looking for fine nuances of plot or character is just as senseless as expecting to find a virgin in a dorm room. The filmmakers themselves seem to understand this, and want nothing more or less than to deliver a fun, wet time. Pieces is, in short, a de facto underground splatter masterpiece.

"You don't have to go to Texas for a chainsaw massacre," the ads screamed upon release, accompanied by the tag: "It's exactly what you think it is." For once, truth in advertising! And rather than blast it for its obvious story defects, enjoy it for its primal willingness to dive deep into the fetishism, violence, and gory spectacle that feed the beast in each of us. Pieces is one of those odd little ugly ducklings you love precisely because of their fumblings. Absurd in the best possible (if unconscious) manner, dark humor and over-acting lend further eccentricity to the horrifying happenings. Firmly entrenched in the Slasher tradition of the period, the film actually owed more debt to the Giallo, celebrating the convoluted structure, psycho-sexual character motivation, and stylistic hallmarks of Italian thrillers, right down to a shadowy killer. A follow up to the director's science fiction cult offerings (Journey To The Center Of The Earth), Pieces will disappoint those in search of a carefully written and believably constructed thriller. For those with a sense of humor, however, who can embrace the splatter and exploitative surrealism, this steaming piece of Grand Guignol will hit the spot.

Grindhouse has hit a home run for horror with their presentation of Pieces, putting to shame those dreary Diamond rip-off discs of yesteryear. This first official release of the film is featured in an anamorphic 1.66:1 widescreen in hi-definition. The visual integrity is superb, clean and crisp without any major grain. Colors are strong and vibrant, bleeding down the screen. Audio is featured in three formats, each of which is strong and solid. The first track is the English Mono track, complete with dubbing from some of the major characters and CAM library music that lends atmospheric tension to the slasher proceedings. Next is the Spanish language Mono track, featuring the original score by Librado Pastor (which I actually found less effective). The third option is "The Vine Theater Experience," featuring the rowdy audience at the 2002 theatrical screening at the Vine Theater in Hollywood.

Extras are reason alone to purchase the disc, both informative and relentlessly entertaining as they provide a context for the movie and its makers. Disc One features, besides the above noted audio options, the "Original Spanish Opening Sequence," the "Theatrical Trailer," and a "Go To The Gore" option in the menu. Also of note is an Easter Egg featuring Eli Roth waxing poetic about the film at a film festival in Hollywood Feb. 17, 2008, along with Clu Gulager and David A. Szulkin. Disc Two houses the most substantial extras, including "Pieces of Piquer," an interview wherein he spends an hour discussing his career, covering his early days as a distributor in Spain, his subsequent producing career, and of course Pieces. Simon is well spoken and witty, and obviously has a place in his heart for this film. He reviews the origins of the story, working with Dick Randall and Joe D'Amato on the script, and other challenges in the business. "The Reddest Herring" is next, an interview with badass Paul L. Smith, who is surprisingly cheerful. A generous Poster and Stills Gallery is next, followed with Filmographies with cast and crew, A handful of surprising Easter Eggs can be found here, including trailers for other films. Lastly are a large group of Grindhouse Trailers, featuring such worthies as Massacre Mafia Style, Death Game, The Beyond, Cannibal Holocaust, and others. Liner Notes by Chas Balun round out the package, the back of which contain the One Sheet Poster Reproduction.

Review by William Simmons