Color, 1991, 104m. / Directed by Jörg Buttgereit / Starring Monika M., Mark Reeder / Barrel (US R1 NTSC) / DD2.0
Beautiful young nurse and fledgling necrophile Monika (Monika M.) steals into a graveyard and digs up the rotting corpse of Rob, our hero from the first film. She takes his congealed remains home and deposits him in the bathtub, where does some impromptu prep work and dresses him up to pose for homemade photographs. Of course, our happy couple becomes a love triangle thanks to Mark (Mark Reeder), a nice but slightly kinky guy who makes his living dubbing and providing sound effects(!) for hardcore porn films. When she isn't at home spending quality time with deadbeat Rob, Monika goes with Mark to pretentious art films and watches seal brutality videos, occasionally suspending him naked by his feet. The strain soon takes its toll, however, and Monika devises an ingenious and thoroughly perverse solution for the two suitors in her life.
Best known as the film that finally sent the German censors over the deep end (including a well-publicized theatrical raid), Nekromantik 2 uses its comparatively lavish running time for a more ambitious and densely textured narrative. While the corpse scenes are naturally gruesome, there's a strong surrealist sensibility at work that keeps it more curious than repellent. Apart from the aforementioned seal scene, an ill-advised attempt to outdo the bunny footage from the original film, Buttgereit strangely avoids any graphic bloodshed or nasty latex dismemberments for most of the running time. Of course, he's really just saving it up for the powerhouse finale, which amazingly outdoes the Daktari Lorenz's "climax" from Nekromantik. The narrative also has a stronger pull in this case, stopping along the way for some humorous and romantic asides before the ironic final scene. Much credit must also go to the alluring Monika M., a terrific lead who should have gone on to do far more work. (She even chipped in on the lyrical music score, along with five other people!)
As with the film itself, Barrel's meticulous DVD outdoes the original in terms of sheer volume. The transfer itself is quite startling for a 16mm film; colors are extremely vibrant and detail is razor sharp. Some minor blemishes pop up along with the occasional rough splice, but most viewers are unlikely to notice. Color, 1993, 65 mins. / Directed by Jörg Buttgereit / Starring Florian Koerner, Monika M., Franz Rodenkirchen / Barrel (US R1 NTSC) / DD2.0 Stereo
Hardly your average splatter director, Jörg Buttgereit has confounded critics by mixing high art aesthetics with painfully explicit bloodletting and sexual depravity, resulting in peculiar, downbeat hybrids like Nekromantik 2 and Der Todesking. Nowhere is
this dichotomy more troubling than in Schramm, the director’s concession to the serial
The nonlinear story begins with taxi driver and troubled murderer Lothar
Schramm (former porn actor Florian Koerner) plunging from a ladder while
painting his walls. One of apparently artificial legs pops off, and he
crashes to the wooden floor, evidently in his death throes. The film
then switches into partial reverse, introducing a pair of door to door
religious converters who wind up on the wrong end of Schramm’s knife.
Gradually the layers are peeled away as we see Schramm living a
tormented existence as the "Lipstick Killer," who drugs and photographs
his female victims, adorns their lips with rouge, and then sometimes
kills them. He also develops a crush on svelte hooker Marianna (Monika
M.) and suffers through terrifying, blackly comic fantasies involving
eyeball-plucking dentists, furry vagina monsters with teeth, and much
more. Of course, that’s nothing
As most readers can probably guess from the synopsis, Schramm is
not a film for everybody and won’t be a good choice to convert the
uninitiated into the realm of European horror. However, adventurous
souls will be more receptive to Buttgereit’s quirky vision, which has
become more refined and impressive with each film. (Unfortunately, this
remains his last directorial effort to date.) As usual, some of his
camera angles and his use of music are extremely impressive considering
the limited financial means, and some of the special effects are a
little too realistic for comfort.
For a 16mm title, Schramm looks very impressive on DVD. The image
displays virtually no grain or instability at all (apart from some
visually distorted dream sequences), while colors are smooth and often
vibrant. The newly remixed stereo soundtrack is focused primarily on the
music, which benefits greatly from the extra sonic field, though the
original mono soundtrack is also included for purists. The sharp optional subtitles are also a huge relief after years of blurry, unwatchable bootleg videotapes. As with Barrel’s
Nekromantik release, the disc is stuffed with a staggering array
of extras (both advertised and hidden), starting with a commentary
track by Buttgereit himself with co-writer Franz Rodenkirchen (also in the film as a dentist); the film maker remains as self-deprecating and
insightful as always. An alternate commentary track by Koerner and
Monika M. proves to be somewhat juicier, including some frank
revelations about the various simulated sexual scenes scattered
throughout the movie.
Other extras both big and small: The Making of Schramm, a frank half hour documentary built around Koerner interview footage and exhibitionistic behind the scenes footage; a Buttgereit music video clip for the group Mutter entitled "Die Neue Zeit;" a huge number of candid shots from the film's shooting; trailers for Schramm, Nekromantik (two versions), Der Todesking, and Nekromantik 2; two subtitled short films, "Mein Papi" and "Captain Berlin," which show off the director's emotional and goofy sides, respectively; and an Easter Egg feature which leads to a banned four minute profile of Buttgereit prepared for Britain's Channel Four but never aired.
Color, 1987, 71m. / Directed by Jörg Buttgereit / Starring Daktari Lorenz, Beatrice M., Harald Lundt, Susa Kohlstedt / Barrel (US R1 NTSC) / DD2.0
Less a traditional movie experience than a slimy slap in the face, Nekromantik was an instrumental title in the '80s gore renaissance and quickly passed in bootleg form from one eager collector to another, long before its official and short-lived VHS debut through Film Threat magazine. Unlike many German horror films which fail to distinguish themselves apart from the sheer level of bodily fluid spilled in front of the camera (e.g., The German Chainsaw Massacre and Violent Sh*t), Nekromantik at least demonstrates some level of talent behind the camera and led director Jörg Buttgereit on a strange career which is hopefully far from over. How enjoyable this film will be, however, depends entirely on each viewer's individual sensitivities.
Quiet little Rob (Daktari
A film whose reputation rests mostly on its lurid title, Nekromantik is at least not as realistic as one might fear. The special effects by and large are competent but exaggerated to the point of black comedy, such as a partial shovel decapitation that seems to have strayed in from a Peter Jackson film. The potential for black humor isn't squandered, either, with the funniest bit involving Rob's reaction when he stumbles into a theater showing a slasher film (with the soundtrack of Lucio Fulci's Zombie!). All of this would be far more unbearable without the excellent music score, partially composed by Lorenz himself, one of the finest and most memorable to grace an '80s horror film.
Shot
How do you outdo one of the most notorious, extreme splatter movies ever made? Simple: make an art film. Though still chock full of the usual body bonking and assorted gross outs, this is a far more elegant and polished piece of work than its predecessor, more concerned with a mood of unease and melancholia than spraying bodily fluids (until the last five minutes, anyway).
It's a wonderful-looking presentation, even more miraculous than the overhaul performed on the Super-8 first film. The new stereo mix is mostly confined to the music, while the mono original is retained as well; the optional English subtitles are always legible and well-written. Buttgereit returns for another commentary along with co-writer Franz Rodenkirchen and the two lead actors; it's a highly enjoyable and informative track, ranging from discussions of the extensive make-up appliances to the censorship hassles to the cameraderie behind the scenes. "The Making of Nekromantik 2" is basically a repurposed version of the half hour of making-of footage from the Buttgereit documentary, Corpse F*cking Art; the creation of Rob's corpse is especially interesting to watch and makes one very, very sorry for the poor actor, whose ordeal wouldn't be out of place in a Jackass episode. Also included: German radio interviews with Buttgereit and Rodenkirchen (with optional subs); "Rise Up" (a heavy metal music video for The Krupps directed by Buttgereit); "Manne: The Movie," an early Super-8 Buttgereit film apparently done as a lark; a reel of outtakes showing bloopers and the crew at work on the set; a huge still gallery; trailers for the Nekromantik films along with Schramm and Der Todesking; a hidden peek at a Buttgereit-designed video game; and of course, the usual filmographies. David Kerekes and Buttgereit contribue liner notes to the extensive booklet, and the first 20,000 units include a second bonus disc, a soundtrack CD containing music from both Nekromantik films along with extra tracks (cover and alternate versions). The first handful of tracks are in mono, but have no fear; most of the music from both films is in beautiful stereo and would stand as a particularly odd New Age album on its own terms.
killer craze which dominated horror during the 1990s. However, this is truly unlike any other psycho movie ever made.
compared to the self-mutilation ritual
he performs on his most sensitive bodily area with a hammer and some
nails, so the squeamish would be well advised to steer clear. Eventually
the whole story comes full circle as we come to experience the numbing
day to day experience which can turn even the quietest guy next door
into a potential menace.
Lorenz) seems like such a happy guy. Every day he goes to work for Joe's Streetcleaning Agency, where he and his coworkers clean up the gory remains of car accidents, and he goes home at night to his girlfriend, Betty (Beatrice Manowski, who later turned up in Wim Wenders' Wings of Desire the same year!). The young lovers display an unhealthy fascination with all things dead, so Rob decides to spice up their sex life by bringing home - yup - a corpse. With the aid of a few household implements, they engage in a sticky menage a trois which should cause most sane viewers to flee for the nearest exit. When Rob loses his job, Betty takes off with the corpse and leaves him a farewell note. Unfortunately he's unable to cope with single life and experiments with various ways of recapturing that old magic, with one unforgettable bit involving a handy prostitute. If this all sounds too warped, well, just wait until the last five minutes...
on 8mm and blown up to 16mm for theatrical and video screenings, Nekromantik has always looked quite rough. The DVD doesn't seem too promising at first, with that notorious opening scene (at night, natch) still grainy and muddy as always. After that, however, this is a Nekromantik you've never seen before. The image is extraordinarily good for 8mm (a first for a DVD feature?), and even on the big screen it could probably never look this good. Contrary to the packaging, the soundtrack is presented in a modest stereo mix which makes this film feel a lot more slick than it probably should. The channel separation during the music is very satisfying, with some hilarious directional effects tossed into the mix as well. The stereo is also more prominent and balanced when played in simple two channel stereo rather than simulated Dolby Digital surround; a very impressive job all around. Even those who hate the movie (and they probably outnumber the film's fans) should be impressed by the wealth of extras, including much participation by Buttgereit himself. Gorehounds in the late '80s speculated that he must be one of those creepy guys you'd never want to meet in person, but in fact he's a clean cut, charming guy with an obvious love for horror films and a quirky sense of humor. As anyone who heard his commentary on Combat Shock and Killer Condom can attest, he's good company for an entire film and really needs to make another feature after his underrated Schramm. He even offers some semblance of a defense for the film's most objectionable and repulsive sequence(s), the actual killing and skinning of a rabbit: "Just because we show it doesn't mean we like it." Apparently this activity was filmed during the day-to-day activity on a rabbit farm, but that doesn't make it any easier to watch. Cowriter Franz Rodenkirchen also chimes in on the commentary track and proves to be just as personable as the director, who also hosts a short making-of featurette packed with behind the scenes photos and anecdotes. Another brief feature, The Making of Nekromantik, covers similar ground in a more documentary style fashion, with a series of outtakes and clips. An incredibly lavish still gallery is accompanied by what appears to be the film's entire score, isolated in perfect stereo sound. Not enough, you say? Buttgereit's early short film, Horror Heaven, also turns up and sports loving homages to The Mummy, Frankenstein, cannibal girl flicks, and most amusingly Godzilla, all hosted in quasi-Hitchcock style by the director himself. His other work is represented by two(!) Nekromantik trailers as well as previews for Der Tödesking, Nekromantik 2, and Schramm. And for you Easter Egg hunters out there, be sure to check his filmography under Corpse F*cking Art. An exhaustive, amazing, and very dangerous experience indeed.
