Slaughtered Vomit Dolls (2006) – Lucifer Valentine.

'I don't know what's left of me, but you can fuck it if you want!!!'

Lucifer Valentine's deliberately confrontational Slaughtered Vomit Dolls is moistly as good as it sounds! Hyperbolically trashy Grindhouse flicks with visually brusque, graphically transgressive approaches to the old in-out are surely to be cherished. No one truly cares about Pretty Woman or Ghost, in future, I believe the art of cinema will be validated by the caustic eruptions of Slaughtered Vomit Dolls, and that's not just because I enjoy repeatedly saying Slaughtered Vomit Dolls out loud!!!! Well, okay, I kinda do, but I'm certainly not gonna give myself a hard time about it! Aggressively haggish, sordidly Self-destructive women slathered in a cheapnis video aesthetic, with slow-mo devil vox are absolutely hotter than the brimstoned pitch forks they'd clearly appreciate being stuck up their botties.

It would be delightful if more features employed an additional 'deep soiling process', wherein the viewer enjoys more of a participatory response, experiencing a genuine frisson of moral grubbiness. It is actually quite remarkable how utterly compelling the grottish admixture of nudity, thickened clots of graphic gore, unexpurgated vomiting, and boozy exhibitionism can be. Sometimes I can happily wallow in dissonant music, and numbing myself with equally discordant imagery often provides a refreshing antidote to the stifling mediocrities of standard splatter movie cliches. It might just be me, but the Bloodsucking Freaked scene, whereby a disturbed guy repeatedly regurgitates into another dude's bloodily excavated skull proved morbidly fascinating, and, sadly, won't ever become a Hollyweird trope.