Tearing up genre festivals across the globe Mexican psychotropic erotic horror We Are the Flesh has been outraging audiences and gaining rave reviews since last year. With its imminent arrival into our homes I thought it was time I took a look to see if it was as amazing and shocking as people had been saying.
Although it is truly explicit especially in regards to the sex and the unrestricted carnal ideas it puts forward attempting to challenge and unsettle the audience as much as possible during its very short running time for me We Are the Flesh failed to inspire or provoke, coming across more like a pretentious porno than a truly visionary cinematic work.
That’s not to say it’s all bad and there will be many who will find true artistry and innovation in first time feature maker Emiliano Rocha Minter movie as proven by the landslide of congratulatory quotes splattered across the movies marketing like a messy cum shot from a variety of sources including Hollywood darlings Alfonso Cuaron and Alejandro Gonzalez Inarritu.
Visually Emiliano Rocha Minter does a fine job and the blend of techniques, styles and shots creates a feverish nightmare full of blatant and base primal imagery plunging the viewer into the weird world of Noé Hernández creepy crazed hermit who lives in a rundown apartment building crafting a cardboard cave, mixing up strange medicines and exchanging items for eggs through a hole in the wall.
It is the script and plot that let the film down or actually the pomposity of the former and lack of the latter all ushered in when the homeless brother and sister played by Diego Gamaliel and María Evoli arrive seeking refuge from the outside world.
Setting them to work on his strange projects the bearded tramp begins indoctrinating them into his own beliefs which where unlocked when he embraced the solitude of his life allowing any and all perversions to be acceptable something he feels the siblings should share.
And share they do as the film shows us a series of graphic fornication including incest, lesbianism, orgies, cannibalism, rape and necrophilia (but no homosexual sex for some unknown reason) all of which transforms the taboo busting threesome into a fucked up family of desire driven psychos free from social and moral restrictions.
Much like the drudgingly grim original version of We Are What We Are, the lack of light or even vague shading to the perpetually morbid physical consumption the characters descend into ultimately makes We Are the Flesh morosely mundane after the initial scandalous exhilaration of seeing extreme close ups of penises and vaginas of which there are many.
The well done dreamlike look of Emiliano Rocha Minter’s movie was sadly not enough to keep me engaged as one of my pet hates is when a horror film desperately attempts to shock. Although I am sure somewhere within We Are the Flesh there is an interesting point on human carnality and society’s attitudes to sex it was lost to me early on in tit exposing tedium.
If you like arthouse horror with plenty of sex or have a penchant for the Mexican New Wave this is an erotically extreme match made in hell for you but sadly We Are the Flesh just left me limp and unsatisfied.