"I don't believe in curses," says Jake (Meat Loaf Aday), and you have to give him credit. By that point, three people have suffered hideous deaths, all bizarre, and all while in possession of mystical raccoon pelts. What makes them mystical? I'm not sure, but the raccoons were trapped at the site of an ancient mystical city. Now, all that remains of that ancient city are broken monoliths that shimmer, as if saying, "Hey, look at how mystical we are."
You might wonder how ancient cities and mysterious furs relate to a strip club where Jake frequents. Most real-life strip clubs are lonely, depressing places that are quiet except for the bad 80's music - not that I would know. But this strip club is one of those movie strip clubs where everyone is always hooting and hollering like there's no tomorrow. With killer pelts on the loose, there might not be. Jake has a thing for Shanna (Ellen Ewusie), a stripper who, for reasons we can only guess at, isn't attracted to fat, sixty-year old peltmakers.
Such is the story in Pelts, which whose gore is matched only by its unique story. The plot defines and then redefines hackneyed. This isn't even the first time this season that we've seen unknown cosmic forces make people go insanely violent and kill each other with bizarre implements. Still, a few story choices work well. especially the decision to make the main character completely reprehensible. A move like that wouldn't work in a two-hour film, but it works just fine here. Or am I just being forgiving because he's the Loaf?
The film also features John Saxon. I sometimes wonder if cameos like these deserve the appreciation they get. Sure, it's nice to see Saxon, but the man has a thankless role that could really be played by anyone. His presence reminds me, as a viewer, that I'm watching a movie, and his performance isn't really enough to convince me that this is anything more than fanboy stunt casting. Then again, this movie is about mystical pelts, so maybe this is the wrong time to discuss such things.
Instead, I'll reveal that this is the first horror film in some time to make me cover my eyes. Yes, I am a pansy, and seeing someone gut himself with scissors and yank out his organs got to me. The self-mutilation is pretty relentless, and I confess that I admire gore when it's this inventive and revolting. None of it is remotely plausible, but that's the point. This gore is so extreme and bizarre that it's borderline surreal. Interestingly, all the kills in this film parallel the act of creating fur coats. I'm not saying it's Bergman - or even Romero - but it works.
What doesn't quite work is merging the silly story with the gross, grim execution. The film plays like an EC comic idea that was rejected for being too dark. Creative as it may be, the grue is constant and ugly. I like the film for its bleak humor and gore, and I recommend that you watch it, but I'm seriously concerned about these cosmic forces. Do they really have good reason to make innocent people sew their mouths shut and asphyxiate? Why are they always so cruel and obtuse? Why not just appear and say, "Hey, stop killing our mystical raccoon guardians." Isn't that easier for everyone?
