By Terry Sherwood
Trash cinema is cool for some. North American names like Roger Corman, Andy Sidaris and Christian Sidaris, Russ Meyer, John Waters, and underrated Doris Wishman find their way into discussions on auteur theory. You could only see from under the counter where, figuratively speaking, the floor was sticky with all sorts of substances. Attend a midnight show at your own risk. Death Bitch 2 is in the realm of the provocative title poster with a now called micro budget and made for the love films. Big different is many of the older exploitation film didn’t try to do what they did, many today consciously do.
Director Ken Brewer makes a revenge picture for anyone not expecting polished Hollywood filmmaking, sophisticated character development, or anything remotely resembling good taste has wandered into the wrong neighbourhood. This sequel is raw, rough around the edges, unapologetically low-budget. This is grindhouse filmmaking in the old-fashioned sense, and it shows.
The story picks up with Alexis Walker, who apparently hasn’t had enough trouble after disposing of Dante and his criminal associates. Now Dante’s sister wants revenge, and the ugly business begins all over again. Nobody is reinventing the wheel here, but that’s hardly the point. The film understands the territory its working in and seems perfectly comfortable populating it with women who get abused, silly macho talk that some people perhaps still believe in, sleazy characters, questionable decisions, and people whose first instinct is usually their worst.
The film’s pleasures are rooted in exploitation cinema’s familiar territory: blood, violence, revenge, and a healthy disregard for respectability. In fact, here’s a suggestion for a new drinking game: take a shot or whatever you choose to every time somebody says “mother*****” or “bitch.” Actually, you might want to keep a packet of napkins handy, because there’s enough food going on in this film to make you wonder whether you’ve accidentally stumbled into a Magnum Force redo as Napkin Force. The body count might be high, but so, apparently, is the appetite for prop sandwiches and potato chips.
And that’s part of the peculiar charm of Death Bitch 2 is operating in another world entirely, one where conventional filmmaking rules seem to have been left outside with the rubbish. Along with improvised long dialogue, little reloading of weapons that John Woo could get away with. This is film-making by the seat of your pants: unpredictable, occasionally chaotic, and driven by the kind of enthusiasm that money simply cannot buy. Yet one wonders if its simple a fallback position for not doing the basic work as many of this style seem to be made specifically for the video streaming and cult film circuit at conventions .
The cast includes familiar exploitation, especially the opening street scene, which looks like Blaxploitation. Genre-film faces such as Michelle Bauer, Robert Allen Mukes, Bridget Powers, and Joycelyne Lew. Bauer’s presence alone should tell longtime fans what sort of neighbourhood they’ve entered. Canadian female Scream Queen August Kyss is criminally wasted (No pun) in brief moments as a Newscaster giving street reports. The most chilling moments occur over the end credits when she is conducting so on street interviews with some actor spilling lines or some genuinely disturbed people about society.
Traci Burr as Detective Maddie Schoefield. Burr brings a welcome sense of maturity and authority to the role, giving the investigation a credible centre. Her character makes considerable progress in uncovering what is happening, frequently demonstrating more initiative than those around her. There’s a confidence in her performance that suggests an actress who understands her craft and knows how to make an impression without resorting to theatrics.
What makes independent productions like this worthwhile is often the community behind them. Brewer clearly benefits from a network of actors, collaborators, and genre-film veterans who share an enthusiasm for this particular corner of cinema. That collective spirit comes through in the finished picture.
Of course, enthusiasm doesn’t automatically excuse every rough edge. The unevenness can occasionally test your patience, and not every scene achieves what it sets out to accomplish. But exploitation cinema was never about perfection. It was about excess, attitude, cheap thrills, and occasionally discovering something memorable buried beneath all the cinematic debris.
Death Bitch 2 isn’t going to convert anyone who already dislikes this kind of filmmaking, nor should it have to. Not every film needs to behave itself. Sometimes you just want something bloody, outrageous, a little ridiculous, and completely unconcerned with what the respectable film establishment thinks.
