Camp Motion Pictures | Review by Mike Wood
One of the first and most memorable Straight-Onto-Video releases of the late 1980’s, VIDEO VIOLENCE still holds up as a classic of the genre and one of its best examples.
SOV films were quickie exploitation films shot on video rather than film, which gave them a documentary feel and anticipated many of the techniques used today in viral video and reality TV. The video gives both an amateurish and creepy feel to film; while not gory enough to make you wonder whether or not this is a snuff film, it does make you question the sanity of those involved.
The storyline concerns Steve and Rachel (Art and Jackie Neill), yuppies who move upstate to get away from it all and downsize. Rachel works at city hall and Steve runs a video rental place; those who grew up ion the 80’s may get a kick out of how old-school perfect the store is, right down to the boxes-only shelving and the “Please be kind—rewind” poster.” Though the town is pretty rural, it seems like everyone owns a VCR, and has a taste only for horror and porn titles. A mysterious tape is returned into the drop slot, with no label but with scenes of a local official being gutted by an exuberant hillbilly and an off-camera accomplice. Chaos ensues when the couple try to either track down the killers or prove that they are just letting their minds get carried away. Of course, you know, they are not imagining things.
The killers (played by William Toddie and a man named UKE) operate a kind of WAYNE'S WORLD from Hell. They kidnap people, then torture and kill them on camera for their cable access show. Their avid audience is the local townies, who often procure fresh meat for the two. The sequel, included in this DVD set, lingers more closely on the show, which has gotten more elaborate than in this film. The only outright fright is in the scene where Toddie very realistically tortures and guts a female hitchhiker; very disturbing indeed, especially if you’ve seen video of actual such attacks, which are sadly more than available these days. The other gore scenes are laughable, with plastic heads and sausage links with ketchup hacked at in sadistic, Herschell Gordon Lewis glory.
But the film grows on you. The bumbling acting and over the top villainy set the stage for the emergence of underground horror films. The joy of filmmaking is evident, even with a reed-thin script and an FX budget that ran out at the local deli. This is a winner for exploitation fans as well as those who like to remember the early days of video which, like with cable, briefly promised a mode of expression open to everyone.
