Dirty Sanchez

| September 14, 2006

Any number of descriptive words couldn’t really do justice to what goes on in this film. I could use sickening, debauched, savage, outrageous but these are just words and are by no means in anyway adequate to describe what the viewer will see. New cinematic lows are reached, forget John Waters, forget Asia Extreme, those are merely works of fiction, this, dear reader, is the real thing. These four lads, three of them Welsh and one Londoner put themselves through a depraved and darkening series of stunts. The Marquis de Sade has got nothing on these guys.
It also stars the legendary drug baron, raconteur and self proclaimed nice guy Mr Howard Marks as Lucifer, who challenges the foul foursome to commit the seven deadly sins in seven different countries. This sets in motion a trawl through a debased series of events; to quote the Pixies, looks like these former skaters wanted to grow up to be, be a debaser – slicing up eyeballs one of the only things they don’t do, but we do bear witness to some truly heinous feats. I can hear the Daily Mail reading majority now gathering their ranks to march on No. 10 and launch a counter-attack to the boy’s WMD (Weapon of Moral Destruction) and decry how the world has slipped, once more, into ruin. Not that this sort of behaviour is new, or even new to film, the carnivalesque has always been a topic film makers can’t seem to leave alone from B-movie maestro’s like Roger Corman to David Lynch and Todd Browning. Pushing the boundaries of taste is something these lads see as their duty, you can see it as them carrying on a, erm, ‘noble’ tradition that has its routes right back in the Renaissance carnival culture of old. If he were still alive today French Renaissance writer François Rabelais would be rejoicing, probably championing the primordial gaiety and hierarchal destruction inherent in the boys work. Probably.
Being both hilarious and mind-blowingly sickening you won’t know whether to launch your lunch or laugh, so most likely you’ll be doing both – at the same time. Expect to take a nose full of regurgitated popcorn mixed with stomach lining and coca-cola. Think of the scene in Stand by Me at the pie eating contest, that’s how the cinema’s going to look. You’ll cringe with pain as you see a grown man take 104 paintballs to the body in the name of breaking a (non-existent) world record. Gasp at seeing someone having liposuction without any anaesthetic and then recoil in horror when the fat from his stomach resurfaces later to be used in a gruesome game of Thai Roulette. You’ll feel faint as grown men utilise staple guns and cigar cutters to mutilate their bodies and retract in abject disbelief as they put things in their mouths you wouldn’t even want to look at. Then gag as you see a man have a beer enema and a friend drink the resulting fluid, avec faecal content. Attack ships on fire of the shoulder of Orion? Pah! That’s nothing compared to these images, which will burn themselves onto your retina and make an indelible mark on your psyche; these boys are twisted, sadomasochistic, perverted and absolutely indefinable. You will be discombobulated and will fear for humanities survival, but my god, you’ll laugh like hell. To paraphrase the late great Hunter S Thompson whose apocalyptic, anarchic and frenetic language would go hand in hand with the extreme activities up on screen–these boys are just another bunch of freaks in the freak kingdom.
But, for all that goes on it’s pretty hard to dislike these affable chaps and while the stunts are pretty grim, it’s the way the film’s executed and the tremendous sense of fun in such warped circumstances that will allow even the most civilised, condescending and hypocritical amongst us to suspend their moral judgement in favour of a smile, or perhaps even a small chuckle–an instant cult classic.

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