Nico Mastorakis has unleashed some pretty terrible films over the years and would probably give the hugely misunderstood Uwe Boll a run for his money as IMDb's most maligned director. Unlike Uwe, much of the criticism aimed at Nico has been deserved. However, it would be a mistake to let Mastorakis' reputation as the king of Euro-trash deter you from watching Island Of Death. Island Of Death is a true horror classic and one of the defining moments of 1970s horror excess. Many films have aimed to offend; few have succeeded as well as this wonderful piece of filth.
In the DVD audio commentary, Mastorakis unashamedly admits that Island Of Death was a calculated attempt to cash in on the success of Tobe Hooper's "The Texas Chainsaw Massacre". Island Of Death is not as scary as Hooper's masterpiece and certainly not as well made, but Mastorakis arguably succeeds in making a more shocking film. The film's plot is simple, yet impressively constructed. A seemingly normal young couple arrive on the Greek island of Mikinos for a holiday. The facade of normality begins to crumble when Chris and Celia have noisy sex in a phone booth - with Chris' mother on the line. It soon becomes apparent that the couple have more sinister hobbies than kinky sex, namely they have taken it upon themselves to rid the island of its sinners. In a storyline that pre-dates the likes of "Natural Born Killers" by several decades, Chris and Celia have well and truly developed a taste for blood.
From the very first murder - which involves Celia exposing an artist as a sinner by having sex with him and Chris exacting punishment by choking the man with a rope, nailing him to the ground and pouring paint down his throat - it is immediately obvious that Mastorakis is not holding back as far as sex and violence is concerned. In fact, the director does everything in his power to up the shock value. Nico seems to revel in smashing taboo after taboo. The list includes bestiality, incest, male anal rape, water sports (the kind involving urine) and the slaying of gays and lesbians. There is also some heroin use, graphic lesbian sex, another rape attempt, a dose of racism and a handful of other gruesome murders and detailed sex scenes. In short, Island Of Death is very much a product of the "anything goes" approach to horror in the 1970s, and all the better for it.
The violence and gore is exceptionally well handled. It is hard to believe that the man who coordinated the brutality in this film went on to make movies involving rubber puppets doubling as sea demons ("Blood Tide") and an internet chat room thriller (".com For Murder"). The goat rape is suitably repulsive, the brain splatter aftermath of one of the shootings is magnificently vile and the extended face burning of the lesbian character with a lit aerosol can is truly repugnant. Mastorakis also throws in one of the iconic action sequences of 1970s horror with Foster's death by aeroplane vignette. The gore effects are well done and impressively realistic. The film's sexual content is almost as graphic as the violence. I imagine that it was the juxtaposition of graphic sex and extreme violence that resulted in the film being banned in so many countries, rather than any one act of violence or depiction of sex.
Mastorakis' films have almost always been tainted by spectacularly bad acting. Island Of Death does not contain any Oscar worthy performances but the cast is uniformly respectable. Jane Lyle plays Celia with a wide-eyed innocence that is genuinely disturbing, while Robert Behling injects Chris with a demented sense of self-righteousness that makes the character all the more chilling. The acting highlight for me was, without a doubt, horror legend Jessica Dublin as Patricia. I can't think of many actresses who would take a role that involves them being urinated on, let alone perform it with as much enthusiasm as Jessica.
For what was little more than a shameless exercise in putting together a film that would appeal to weary horror fans, Island Of Death is an extremely effective and original film. More surprisingly, Island Of Death is lyrical in a way that horror movies seldom are. The film exhibits an ethereal quality that sometimes borders on the surreal. The shocking conclusion is as poetic as it is brutal and Mastorakis makes full use of the beautiful Greek countryside throughout. Island Of Death won't appeal to everyone but for fans of nasty horror, this film is simply unmissable.
In the DVD audio commentary, Mastorakis unashamedly admits that Island Of Death was a calculated attempt to cash in on the success of Tobe Hooper's "The Texas Chainsaw Massacre". Island Of Death is not as scary as Hooper's masterpiece and certainly not as well made, but Mastorakis arguably succeeds in making a more shocking film. The film's plot is simple, yet impressively constructed. A seemingly normal young couple arrive on the Greek island of Mikinos for a holiday. The facade of normality begins to crumble when Chris and Celia have noisy sex in a phone booth - with Chris' mother on the line. It soon becomes apparent that the couple have more sinister hobbies than kinky sex, namely they have taken it upon themselves to rid the island of its sinners. In a storyline that pre-dates the likes of "Natural Born Killers" by several decades, Chris and Celia have well and truly developed a taste for blood.
From the very first murder - which involves Celia exposing an artist as a sinner by having sex with him and Chris exacting punishment by choking the man with a rope, nailing him to the ground and pouring paint down his throat - it is immediately obvious that Mastorakis is not holding back as far as sex and violence is concerned. In fact, the director does everything in his power to up the shock value. Nico seems to revel in smashing taboo after taboo. The list includes bestiality, incest, male anal rape, water sports (the kind involving urine) and the slaying of gays and lesbians. There is also some heroin use, graphic lesbian sex, another rape attempt, a dose of racism and a handful of other gruesome murders and detailed sex scenes. In short, Island Of Death is very much a product of the "anything goes" approach to horror in the 1970s, and all the better for it.
The violence and gore is exceptionally well handled. It is hard to believe that the man who coordinated the brutality in this film went on to make movies involving rubber puppets doubling as sea demons ("Blood Tide") and an internet chat room thriller (".com For Murder"). The goat rape is suitably repulsive, the brain splatter aftermath of one of the shootings is magnificently vile and the extended face burning of the lesbian character with a lit aerosol can is truly repugnant. Mastorakis also throws in one of the iconic action sequences of 1970s horror with Foster's death by aeroplane vignette. The gore effects are well done and impressively realistic. The film's sexual content is almost as graphic as the violence. I imagine that it was the juxtaposition of graphic sex and extreme violence that resulted in the film being banned in so many countries, rather than any one act of violence or depiction of sex.
Mastorakis' films have almost always been tainted by spectacularly bad acting. Island Of Death does not contain any Oscar worthy performances but the cast is uniformly respectable. Jane Lyle plays Celia with a wide-eyed innocence that is genuinely disturbing, while Robert Behling injects Chris with a demented sense of self-righteousness that makes the character all the more chilling. The acting highlight for me was, without a doubt, horror legend Jessica Dublin as Patricia. I can't think of many actresses who would take a role that involves them being urinated on, let alone perform it with as much enthusiasm as Jessica.
For what was little more than a shameless exercise in putting together a film that would appeal to weary horror fans, Island Of Death is an extremely effective and original film. More surprisingly, Island Of Death is lyrical in a way that horror movies seldom are. The film exhibits an ethereal quality that sometimes borders on the surreal. The shocking conclusion is as poetic as it is brutal and Mastorakis makes full use of the beautiful Greek countryside throughout. Island Of Death won't appeal to everyone but for fans of nasty horror, this film is simply unmissable.