Le Petite Mort (2009) – Marcel Walz.

Luridly based upon a gory true crime history yadda-yadda-yadda. Does La Petite Mort's explicit violence, graphic S& M brutality, sordid erotica, and preponderance of grisly torture slaying provide good value to the more debased horror fan? Happily, yes, with a soupcon of no! Once again, the old adage of 'you don't have to be a card-carrying pervert to get the moist out of La Petit Mort, but it certainly helps is bloodily reinforced! Performances and technical aspects are robust, the main points of interests should be, just how gruesome are Olaf Ittenbach's practical FX, and are the sweetly slaughtered honey babies easy on the eye? Aye!!! no worries there! Three young tourists end up in an especially sleazy S & M bar, and become the victims of a snuff/torture live stream. It is often said that extreme sexualized horror provides a catharsis, but I remain unconvinced, I believe these snuff-shockers communicate directly to the dimming vestiges of our primordial DNA, or, jaded folk simply like to see glissy intestines smeared gratuitously upon exposed breasts! Eroticized cruelty can be traced back to the likes of Jess Franco's Sexorcismes, or art house shocker 120 days in Sodom,which of itself references one of the more hideous traits in man, warmongery, and the multifarious insanities manifested when one side, and the another, blindly follows orders. If Franco had shot this, there would be far more Sapphic action, and saftig siren Lina Romay would spend at least 20 minutes grinding lasciviously, enthusiastically tending to any proximal sex organs. All hail Romay, sadly no longer with us, but NEVER forgotten. The dearth of nudity proved a buzz kill, but the plentiful gore has a palpably nasty edge, and the club's evil proprietress is a stone-cold skell.