Review #444: 'Snuff' (1976)

Back when I was in my early teens, and starting to form a morbid curiosity with death (the arrival on the internet fuelled many a child's lust for real and graphic violence), I was discussing something horrific I'd seen whilst browsing this new medium with my mother. She told me about when her and my dad were married (my dad was then a police officer during the Video Nasty-era), they would often watch the films he had seized (I don't think he was supposed to be doing that, but oh well), and how they had once stumbled upon a real snuff film. I argued that snuff films don't actually exist, and are merely a myth, but she told me in detail about the film ending, and how the crew butchered one of the actresses, cutting off her fingers before disembowelling her. I didn't believe her, but she was adamant. So over ten years on, I text her to re-assure that she had been duped by Snuff, a massive shit-stain of a movie whose faux-snuff climax was exactly how she described. I actually wish it had been real snuff, because I wouldn't have had to waste 90 minutes of my life on this absolute drivel.

Snuff is actually a shelved film called The Slaughter from 1971, directed by Michael Findlay. Given it had a very limited theatrical run and was a babbling, incoherent mess, the film was shelved for four years until producer Allan Shackleton heard about the taboo-of-the-week snuff films, which were reportedly being made in South America. The Slaughter tells the story of a porn actress Terry London (Mirtha Massa) who is frolicking with her rich lover Horst (Clao Villanueva), while somewhere else, a man called Satan (pronounced Sa-taan, played by Enrique Larratelli) is a Charles Manson-type cult leader who has somehow managed to enslave a bunch of sexy biker chicks. Some murders happen, I don't really know why, but it has something to do with Terry and Horst producing a baby for sacrifice. For what reason, again, I don't know. Shackleton seized the opportunity and tacked on an ending filmed by Simon Nuchtern, which depicted one of the actresses filming The Slaughter being murdered by the crew, and re-released it as Snuff.

I'll hand it to Shackleton, it was a bloody clever idea to turn one of the most ludicrously muddled and pointless film I've ever seen into something that would make money. Although nowadays, the 'snuff' murder at the end is not convincing (the scene is edited, features bad dubbing, and has sound effects), I can imagine it convincing people back in the day. And it's actually well done - the moving hand after it has been chopped off was particularly effective - but whether it's more convincing because it's coming after an hour and a half of absolute wank, I don't know. But it's a lot to get through, even with it's slender running time, and when you think the film is about to start to make sense, it cuts to a nonsensical scene where somebody inevitably gets their tits out and the whole thing falls apart. Add to that the worst dubbing ever committed to screen, actors that would embarrass H.G. Lewis, and a plot of such astounding levels of bull-shit it would make Ed Wood jealous, you have one of the worst experiences that cinema has ever offered. Avoid at all costs.


Directed by: Michael Findlay, Horacio Fredriksson, Simon Nuchtern
Starring: Mirtha Massa, Clao Villanueva, Enrique Larratelli, Aldo Mayo
Country: Argentina/USA/Canada

Rating: *

Tom Gillespie