Anarchy Parlor (2015)

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Anarchy ParlorStarring Robert LaSardo, Sara Fabel, Tiffany DeMarco

Directed by Devon Downs, Kenny Gage


Those silly college kids…can someone please tell me when in the name of Eli Roth will these financially backed miscreants learn NOT to travel overseas, then party with a bunch of unknowns, then saunter off in a drunken haze with some oversexed foreign bombshell that promises every fella that they’ll have “very sexy times,” only to end up drugged out and on a makeshift slab with various parts of their anatomy missing? Okay, now that I’ve got that rant out of the way, let me clarify that I do in fact, LOVE these kinds of films, mainly due to the fact that it acts as the perfect cautionary tale for transatlantic tourism.

As I mentioned earlier, the name Eli Roth would in fact be very proud of the job that co-directors Devon Downs and Kenny Gage pulled off with their grotesque Hostel-like feature, Anarchy Parlor, which also will serve as the final nail in the proverbial coffin for those first-timers who may be a little leery about getting themselves inked up. The story follows six hard-partying young adults who are visiting scenic Lithuania to drink themselves into stupors, and eventually hook up with whichever club crawler gives them the time of day. Amy (DeMarco) is the good girl (if there was one here), and she is ready to fiesta her remaining time until college beckons her – along with Brock (Ben Whalen in the atypical douchebag role), who meets sultry Uta (Fabel) at a mansion bash, and shortly afterwards the three skip off to Uta’s workplace: a tattoo shop deep in the backstreets of town where she works as an apprentice – HUGE mistake.

We’re then introduced to the concrete foundation of this presentation, who simply is known here on out as “The Artist” – his real name is Robert LaSardo, and if you’ve seen any film in the last 28 years where a tattooed bad-ass was installed, then you’ll easily recognize this man. With a shaved head, fully-inked upper body, and a 1000-yard stare that could shatter a cinder block, he more than holds his ground as the perfect casting choice to play an artist whose motivation is more than to just pour ink into gullible tourists…trust me, you’ll see. Before long, Brock and Amy are strapped down to torture-beds and the slicing will commence, and unfortunately as much as I loved the gratuitous violence, the vision of overdone CGI ruined more than one shot for me, but that’s just blood under the bridge – the gore is copious, and the scalpel work is impeccable. As I eluded to earlier, there is a method to The Artist’s madness, and his calm demeanor and soft-spoken tendency makes him a much more affecting and supposable lunatic.

The film tries to not take itself too seriously, and many horror movie clich├ęs are set into place, and they’re rightfully picked apart, whether you see them as sarcastic or not – constant pleading for their lives, the ability to not complete a comprehensive sentence without interjecting the words “f**k,” “bro,” or “dude,” one-hundred times over, and general decision-making that would certainly be acceptable for a 5 year-old that’s wandered away from his parents, but the futures of our world? If that’s the case, then I’ll gladly check out right the hell now, no questions asked. Other than the inane actions of the supporting cast, you could look at this as a Hostel wanna-be, right down to the angry townskids who like to start shit with unsuspecting night-strollers through the darkened streets, but don’t let that sway you, as this is purely a fun film, and if you’re willing to suspend a lot of disbelief, then you’ve got a pretty entertaining way to spend 95+ minutes.

As the credits rolled, I jotted these thoughts down in my mind: LaSardo and Fabel came off as a fitting tag-team of twisted tattooing prowess, and they both should be commended for their performances. Downs and Gage not only grabbed the reigns on this film, but tightened up and rode it to the finish line in a horror display that should make all lovers of blood and guts shriek with delight, however the foreign-travel industry has been kicked squarely in the giblets yet again – all in the name of good horror though, correct?

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User Rating 3.65 (20 votes)
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