The Human Centipede 2: Full Sequence Review [2]

Posted by Trevor Snyder on 10.17.2011

A second opinion on Tom Six's unashamedly grotesque, over-the-top sequel.

THE HUMAN CENTIPEDE 2: FULL SEQUENCE (2011)



Written & Directed by: Tom Six
Starring: Laurence R. Harvey, Ashlynn Yennie, Vivien Bridson and Bill Hutchens
Unrated.


Is The Human Centipede 2: Full Sequence a good movie? Truthfully, by most commonly accepted standards of what makes a quality film, no…no, it isn’t. Is The Human Centipede 2: Full Sequence a good Human Centipede movie? This is a tough question, since it is so drastically different from its predecessor that it is nearly impossible to guess how individual supporters (or detractors, for that matter) will react to this new entry. The big question: is The Human Centipede 2: Full Sequence an effective film (in terms of what it is going for), and does it truly deserve the massive amounts of condemnation it is receiving? This is where things get interesting.

Tom Six’s sequel picks up immediately where the first Human Centipede ended, only to reveal we are actually watching someone else watch that now infamous film. This is Martin (Laurence R. Harvey), an asthmatic, mentally disturbed man who, with his distractingly bulging eyes, looks sort of like Peter Lorre, if he had eaten two other Peter Lorre’s.



Martin spends his evenings working in a parking garage, and days in the small apartment he shares with his verbally abusive mother, who has never forgiven him for reporting the physical and sexual abuse he suffered at the hands of his father, and therefore getting her husband taken away from her. Obviously lacking any social skills, and at the mercy of near-constant berating, Martin seeks a mental escape from his hellish life. Unfortunately for the rest of the film’s characters, that escape has come in the form of obsession with the original Human Centipede movie. But watching it on a loop and collecting a scrapbook of images from the film can only satisfy Martin for so long. He decides to take the next step and replicate the work of the film’s Dr. Heiter (Dieter Laser, only appearing in footage from the last movie), with two crucial differences – he intends for his centipede to consist of twelve people instead of three, and he comes at the project with absolutely none of the real medical knowledge the doctor was armed with.

Undeterred by that little fact, Martin begins collecting his subjects from the parking garage, stashing them in a grimy warehouse until he has enough to begin making his “masterpiece.” Unlike the previous movie, in which the victims were as much of characters as the villain, this group is a mostly interchangeable collection of undeveloped faces. The one notable exception is the first film’s Ashlynn Yennie, who in a clever touch appears as herself, tricked by Martin into thinking she’s auditioning for a Quentin Tarantino movie, only to find herself part of his creation. But hey, at least she’s the "front piece” of the centipede this time, which has got to be quite the step up from her role as the "back piece" in the last film. Might I suggest Six think about making her the villain in the third entry, thus completing what would have to be considered one of the most upwardly mobile career progressions in cinematic history?



Let’s get it out of the way - Human Centipede 2 is every bit as depraved and disgusting as you have heard. It’s not the goriest film I have ever seen…but that probably says more about the movies I watch than it does the film itself. Make no mistake about it, this is one F’d up movie. Unlike the first film, which despite the extreme subject matter was arguably somewhat subtle and not really all that graphic in its presentation, the sequel goes absolutely balls to the wall (or should I say “feces to the wall”) in its onscreen depiction of the carnage Martin creates. Teeth removal by hammer, severed nerves, “surgical” application of mouth to ass, forced consumption of human waste – we see everything, in all its “I can’t believe they went there” glory. There was certainly a contingent of fans that felt the previous film wasn’t hardcore enough, that it unfairly skimped on the gruesome visuals the concept seemed to imply. This sequel might be considered Six’s love-letter to those fans – although, by going so extreme, and by having the violence come at the hands of an obsessed fan himself, you could also argue that Six is being openly confrontational with his fans, begging them to question whether this is really what they wanted.

And there it is. Could a film like this, which many have dismissed as nothing more than brainless, vile trash, actually be trying to say something? I think so. No, I really do. It would have been easy for Six to come up with a sequel that just lazily continues on from the last one; to reveal some unknown Dr. Heiter collaborator who has pledged to continue his work. By instead placing the sequel in the “real world” and casting an over-enthusiastic fan as the villain, Six appears to be addressing the idea that extreme horror films (and his movie, in particular) can actually be dangerous to society, positing a scenario so over-the-top to, the point of being ridiculous, that it exposes how silly the whole notion is. At the same time, he also seems to be somewhat mocking those bloodthirsty fans, giving them representation in the form of a small, fat, and awkward maniac that can’t differentiate real life from the movies.

You might argue that these two ideas are in conflict with one another, or that actually showing all the sick violence undercuts any attempt to make an intelligent observation about the reaction (or overreaction) to such onscreen mayhem. You wouldn’t be completely wrong, and I think at times Six does allow his messages to mix, or just get lost in the bloody shuffle. Still, there’s a big difference between “too many ideas” and “no ideas,” and I certainly think the former is more admirable than the latter. I believe the concepts mentioned above are present in the film, and shouldn’t be ignored by critics who are accusing the film of being nothing more than shock value for shock value’s sake.

Not that I’m denying the importance of the film’s shock value…which, by the way, I have absolutely no problem with. I’m now speaking directly to the horror fans out there who have criticized Six for going too over the top, or just depicting incredible violence with no real thought behind it. I obviously don’t agree that is the case, but even if it was, so what? When exactly did it become taboo for horror filmmakers to break taboos? It’s amusing to see the film lambasted in some of the same genre circles that celebrate the works of filmmakers like H.G. Lewis, Lucio Fulci or Ruggero Deodato, men who also gleefully depicted at-the-time unheard of onscreen gore, often with no other motivation than to make a buck. I hope fans recognize the moral-high-ground reviews of Human Centipede 2 as the same sort of knee-jerk reactions that once met films like Blood Feast, Cannibal Holocaust and Last House on the Left, movies looked back on with novelty and praise today. I think the overly-harsh reaction to Human Centipede 2 has a lot more to do with its high-profile and how neutered horror and exploitation cinema has actually become nowadays. If this film had played in the grindhouse theaters of 42nd Street back in the late ‘70s and early ‘80s, alongside such “classics” as Ilsa: She-Wolf of the SS, Last House on Dead End Street or I Spit On Your Grave, it would today just be considered another one of “those” movies.



It would be easier to listen to those critics who declare Human Centipede 2 worthless trash if only the film wasn’t so well made. I’ve seen far too many truly dreadful, “backyard filmmaking” horror movies to write this one off as the lowest sort of filmmaking, as I’ve seen others do. The first Human Centipede surprised many – audiences went in expecting a unique concept being the only thing popping up amateurish, trashy filmmaking. Instead, they found an absorbing horror film that actually did a decent job focusing on tension over gore. Although Six has left the subtlety behind this time, his talent is still evident. The film’s black and white photography is at times gorgeous; there are a number of striking shots, and quite a few effectively chilling sequences (though the section of the film where Martin is collecting his victims does tend to feel a bit redundant after a time).

Plus, as with Dr. Heiter in the first movie, it’s impossible to deny the power of the villain’s performance. Newcomer Harvey is fantastic as Martin. He has no lines, but manages to use body language, facial expressions and the occasional emotional outburst to perfectly capture both the character’s madness and slight sympathetic edge (you know, as sympathetic as someone who is sewing people’s asses to other people’s mouths can be).



I also wonder if some of the film’s detractors are taking it a little more seriously than they need to be. I don’t think it’s out of the question to label the film as an incredibly dark comedy – the dialog and behavior of characters like Martin’s mother or the psychiatrist she hires to help Martin are proof of that. Even the film’s insane third act, in which we finally see Martin get to the business at hand, goes so overboard that it reaches a certain level of absurd hilarity. This has been a long-standing truism in the horror genre – when faced with high levels of gore, audiences often have no recourse but to laugh at how far the movie is actually going, and I can definitely report that a number of people in my audience (including myself) were able to tap into this twisted spirit and laugh along with the film’s over-the-top insanity. Does that make us sick on a certain level? Maybe. But I’m pretty sure it at least doesn’t mean any of us are actually going to go out and try to emulate Martin’s actions. And hey, I think it’s weird when people laugh at Friedberg & Seltzer movies. One man’s comedy is another man’s brutal bludgeoning, I guess.

Look, obviously The Human Centipede 2: Full Sequence is not a film for everybody. I would never recommend it to anyone squeamish about the horror genre or onscreen violence in general. And I hold nothing against those turned off by its extreme nature and unflinching presentation. It’s a film that can and will piss many people off – I’m as sure of that as I am of the fact that that’s exactly what Tom Six was going for. Personally, though, as a fan of dangerous cinema, I have to admire the film. It’s an exploitation-movie-lover’s wet dream, sure, but there are also some genuinely interesting ideas about the relationship between a movie and its audience floating around inside its pool of filth. I'm certainly not suggesting it is "good" in the same way many other movies are, but I can't dismiss how effective it will be for a large portion of its target audience, nor will I deny the evident talent behind the camera (all the more impressive when you notice it in a movie with this "plot"). It’s not perfect by any means, but for those willing to stomach it, the impressive filmmaking and “let’s just go for it” mentality makes it impossible to ignore.

The 411: While not as genuinely chilling or compelling as its superior predecessor, Tom Six's insane sequel is still not to be ignored. It is not a film for everybody, or even most people, but nor does it have any intention to be. Despite an unfortunately repetitive first half, the eventual ridiculously over-the-top carnage will likely earn it love from many exploitation fans, while striking cinematography, an excellent villain, a wicked sense of humor and some intriguing ideas about the effects of onscreen violence actually raise it to a worthwhile level, for those willing to stomach it.

Final Score:  7.0   [ Good ]