It's hard to fathom how desensitized I've become in the last 20-plus years. Way back in 1991 a little video store opened up in SE Portland, Oregon. It's since become an institution, but in those days Mike Clark's Movie Madness had the movies you couldn't find ANYWHERE. Sweet numbers like Lucker: The Necrophagous and Nekromantik, on dodgy VHS tapes. Back then, low-budget horror films about necrophiliacs were something shocking. Now you can hardly turn on TVLand without watching some reality sit-com about folks shagging putrescent corpses (let alone scanning CNN to watch the latest beheading in the Middle East). Yep, Nekromantik is now on Blu-ray, albeit in a limited edition of 10,000 copies. Snatch up your copy NOW to see what all the fuss was about.
Poor Rob can't catch a break. He and his girlfriend Betty really love death, so he's got himself the perfect job on a car-accident cleanup crew. He's free to stealthily snatch choice bits from the dead - an extruded eyeball here, a handful of guts there - to bring home for fondling with his honey. Sadly, his foreman doesn't cotton to Rob's cotton-picking rotten pickings, leading to troubles on the worksite. Rob's able to snatch one last full, festering cadaver from a swamp (to bring home to sweetie) before getting the axe. To make matters worse, Betty soon realizes she'd rather run off with the real stiff than live a life of poverty with her unambitious slacker boyfriend. What's a lovesick boy to do?
Love and sick are truly the operative words here, in a film that - OK - will still likely disgust and confuse the hell out of any viewer other than hardened horror hounds such as myself. As a movie, the slight (70-minute) horror tends to, believe it or not, lose focus and meander a bit before its shocking conclusion. Nekromantik is almost dialog-free, actually, tilling its weird soil as a thoughtful meditation on love, hopelessness, and the hopelessness of love. It just happens to do so using such tropes as; psychedelic sex scenes with a moldering carcass, swinging a cat in a garbage bag at the wall - then luxuriating with the guts, bisecting Farmer Brown's head with a shovel, killing, skinning and gutting a real live rabbit, and the piece de resistance ... well, I'm not going to tell you, (you probably know already) but it's a real corker (let's just say it's the most ambiguously 'happy ending' you've ever seen).
Daktari Lorenz (as Rob) and Beatrice M. (as Betty) bring sincere and instant pathos to their pathetic lives and relationship. Writer/director Jorg Buttgereit concocts a stately and oddly poetic movie on a shoestring budget, salting things liberally with a haunting score. However, despite the sincere debauchery, there's not enough here to sustain the short run-time. After Rob's left alone, he's free to wander aimlessly - as does the movie itself. He checks out a movie, traverses the countryside, and suffers fever dreams wherein, in a sunlit field, he plays catch-the-intestinal-tract with a benign nurse/angel figure. Thankfully Buttgereit's got more on his mind, as he ends things with a real bang, conflating musings on life, love, sex, and death in a mini-cataclysm of fluids that really leaves you thinking. In an extras-laden Blu-ray edition, Cult Epics brings you one of the grand-daddies of transgressive horror, Highly Recommended for fanciers of the forbidden (even if, by now, you've seen it all before).
Additionally, you get a Still Photo Gallery, and Trailers for Nekromantik, Nekromantik 2, Der Todesking, Schramm and Hot Love. The Original Motion Picture Soundtrack is included on the Blu-ray disc to torment you with its lovely-creepy vibe, as well. The 29-minute short film Hot Love (1985) is presented for the first time, and includes its own 3-minute Featurette and a Commentary Track from Buttgereit. It's similarly nutso, weird and gross. Lastly, enjoy two Postcards that you'd never be able to send through the mail!