Readers, I’m what you might call a biker brat. My parents were bikers...real bikers. Not the kind that drive around on Hondas wearing microphones on their helmets. Not the kind that pop wheelies down the middle of a busy intersection with their crotch rocket crews. I’m talking real bikers.
I’m going to go ahead and get right to it because every diehard zombie fan is focusing on the big undead elephant in the room. So let’s deal with that right away, because there’s a lot more to this film than what will be undoubtedly the most debated point of this film. That’s right folks. I’m referring to talking, thinking zombies.
Imagine going out on a blind date and finding out your date is a vampire? Would that ruin your night? Would you still make a move on her? Is a vampire even capable of giving head without using her teeth?
I’m beginning to think the name Shinya Tsukamoto is nothing more than a pseudonym for David Cronenberg. Like Cronenberg, Tsukamoto’s films share a similar “New Flesh” theme as evidenced by Tetsuo. Vital is a very different beast altogether though. Quiet and poetic, the film forces us to face man’s fragile mortality. The film is filled with fluids, flesh and textures and had a decidedly soft, organic feel as opposed to Tetsuo’s jagged metal and serpentine wiring.
Detective Lt. William Somerset (Morgan Freeman) is so close to retiring he can taste it. On his list of primary action items before leaving the force is breaking in his new partner, David Mills (Brad Pitt) who has recently transferred in. Mills is happily married to Tracy (Gwyneth Paltrow), who hates the new city, but tolerates it for her husband’s sake.
Somewhere between the black and white breast-studded valley that is Faster Pusscat! Kill! Kill! and the garishly gore colored woods of Last House On The Left lies The Candy Snatchers. It may not be as spectacularly sleazy as Pussycat, nor are its guts as gruesome as Last House’s, but The Candy Snatchers is an impressively grim, sickeningly ugly and all around filthy little film.
