12 October 2011 | BA_Harrison
Be there or be square.
The swinging 60s saw protective parents world-wide concerned that exposure to way-out music might turn their kids into sex-crazed, drug addicts. In Emilio Vieyra's Feast of Flesh AKA The Deadly Organ, that's precisely what happens: young women are subjected to some cool organ grooves and become the zombie-like sex slaves of a masked maniac who hooks them on heroin; once in the grip of the 'monster', the women become his sexual playthings, but their inevitable fate is death, their 'master' stabbing them in the chest with his over-sized hypodermic needle.
Although this film could be viewed as a cautionary tale for potentially wayward teens or as the ultimate nightmare scenario for concerned parents, I doubt very much if this was the makers' intention—it's far too lurid a piece of trash to be given credit for containing any kind of moral subtext or for deliberately mining the fears of the older generation. No... what we have here, I believe, is exploitation, pure and simple—a delightfully dated piece of nonsense featuring some mild gore, beautiful people soaking up rays on the beach, groovy dance scenes in a smoky jazz club, and plenty of bare boobage, with nearly every hot chick getting her threads off during the course of the film.
Casual horror fans might find Feast of Flesh strictly Dullsville (Hell, even fans of this type of cheap South American schlock don't seem to have much positive to say about it), but I had a blast with the hilarious 60s slang ('this place is a drag... I'm splitting. Ciao!'), all of the tasty skirt (especially one particularly big-breasted sunbather and the gorgeous Gloria Prat as Beba), the terrible dubbing, and the wonderfully daft scene in which the police use a girl as bait for the killer, but fail to step in until after she has been fatally stabbed.