A Review of The Decline of Civilization (in Three Acts)
Or, How Your College Film Can Make You Money
By Chad Vizinni of Cinemasochist Reviews
But, I’m an asshole, and I like pissing people off, so let’s get this donkey show on the stage, and hop right into the saddle.
There are a few things the potential viewer of TDoC(i3A) should keep in mind. First and foremost is that this was director Ed “Woody” Woodward Flynn’s senior thesis when he was a pre-grad film student at the Piedmont School of Arts & Sciences, and it shows. God in heaven, does it show. From the inexplicable pseudonyms of the “stars” (Ash Blanche and Elm Noir, REALLY?), to the torturous dialog (“we are as stars scattered on the ground” was a personal fav), to the pathetic bed-sheet sets, every scene in this film screams “I turned this in for a grade!”
The second thing you should keep in mind is that this is a hardcore film. Loathers of smut be warned: there is sex in this movie, amateurish, often unattractive, sex. Blowjobs, boners, and one of the most awkward orgy scenes ever committed to celluloid are all filmed with unflinching attention. There are no extended penis-in-orifice shots as there are in modern porn movies, but these kids are clearly fucking. Although the two male leads are both attractive college guys, and I have been reassured by friends who are expert man-oglers that they are very attractive college guys, these are real people with real, non-porn star bodies engaging in those sexual acts. Some may find that hot, but personally, it leaves me feeling like some voyeuristic creep spying on my next door neighbors getting it on. SO not my bag, baby.
Speaking of fetishes, that brings us to the third thing you should know about this movie. As most of you reading this review are probably already aware (our readers are such perverts; it’s wonderful), TDoC is something of a cult classic in the fetish community. Theories abound about why this title is so popular among the whips and leather crowd, but in my mind there are two reasons. The first reason is what can arguably be called the only honestly shocking scene in this otherwise pretty pedestrian movie, The Destruction of Civilization, played by Elm Noir, gets a needle shoved through his junk. The proper term for what appears on camera is a frenulum piercing, in which a straight barbell is placed on the underside of the shaft of the penis. That might not seem too extreme to the Master & Servants out there, however, I can tell you the reaction of myself, and every other male in the viewing audience here at the Cinemasochist Reviews Offices, was “OMFG he shoved a needle through his DICK! Was that blood? THAT WAS FUCKING BLOOD!” *Collective fainting*
The scene occurs only 15 minutes into the film, so we had to start drinking pretty early during our review. To date, TDoC has the dubious distinction of having most cases of beer consumed during its viewing. And we watched Showgirls.
The second reason is the most controversial, and uncomfortable. It also involves the grim-faced Noir. At several points in the film, the camera zooms in on and then lingers over a nasty, fresh-looking scar on Noir’s wrist. The camera also zoom-humps cuts along Noir’s arms and torso that look an awful lot like something out of a self-injury awareness pamphlet. In one particularly intense scene, the infamous “Party Scene,” a cut on Noir’s upper arm appears to reopen, staining his toga, and eventually the mouth of Ash Blanche, with blood. (At this point, we had to make a beer run for more fortification. A SECOND beer run.)
If you’re a fan of this flick, then you already know the controversy surrounding this scene and whether or not Noir’s seemingly self-inflected injuries are real or fake. Flynn’s production company 9th Earth Production, which distributes TDoC (and Flynn’s other, more conventional, porn movies), has always insisted everything in the film is real and true, but, honestly, when can you trust a porno company to put anything real on camera? Unfortunately, or fortunately for those of us who are squeamish, the quality of the film itself is so bad, it’s impossible to tell if these injuries were staged, or if Noir was truly the tortured masochist he portrayed in the film.
There is some attempt made at a plot, about how the gods personified the worst and best of humanity in human form, but honestly, it’s so batshit insane, I don’t even know how to begin to describe it. Really, any “narrative” (and I use the term loosely) in this film is just an excuse to shoestring together sex scenes and weird art house non sequiturs. Why is there a goldfish swimming in a birdbath? What the fuck is that supposed to represent? The world will never know.
So, is it a good film? No. The writing is incomprehensible. The acting is terrible by and large, with the exception of Blanche, who’s portrayal of the Redemption of Humanity is almost very nearly passable. The manorexicly thin Noir seems to be inebriated in almost every scene (though we certainly understand why). And, the much-toted “hardcore” scenes, made me feel ill at ease rather than turned on. But, it’s not all bad. It’s often tongue-in-cheek, and can be charmingly self aware. It’s entertaining in the same way that Pink Flamingos is entertaining. It’s shocking and smutty merely for the sake of being shocking and smutty. It knows it’s not a good movie, and it never makes the claim that it is. Plus, there’s plenty of scrawny, drunken, art student flesh to ogle if you’re into that kind of thing.
And if the cult of TDoC is any indication, plenty of you are.
