Since this was touted as a kind of postmodern take on Polanski's classic thriller REPULSION, I suspected from the outset that filmmaker William Hellfire - director of direct-to-video exploitation fare like THE VIBRATING MAID and ELECTRIC CORD STRANGLER II - was already setting the bar a bit too high, but I saluted his audacity and decided to give him the benefit of the doubt. Besides, I love tits and blood as much as the next guy... well, maybe a bit more than the next guy... well, probably ten times more than most sane guys would admit to their closest friends while drunk... oh, fuck it. Suffice to say I probably don't set the bar nearly as high for my exploitation fare as Hellfire did for himself, but I can't fault his enthusiasm, or his cleverness.

The rather vague plot of THE DEVIL'S BLOODY PLAYTHINGS - a title which, I'll admit, was my main motivation for picking this one up - seems to revolve around the various schemes undertaken by the fiendishly cute but psychotically manipulative Christine (Ruby Larocca, yum yum) to bring about the mental breakdown of her new roommate Karen (Zoe Moonshine), in order to... well, I'm not exactly sure why she does this. I guess to fill up enough tape to make a feature.

At first, it seems Christine is getting her jollies by undressing Karen, snapping a few revealing photos of her on the toilet (seems she's a regular supplier for a voyeur-porn website) and tarting her up in revealing outfits. Before long, Christine is parading the new girl-toy around in front of her seriously creepy friends (the subtitled Japanese guy was cool, though) and encouraging them to grope her in public. Why, pray tell? My interpretation is that Christine despises her own sexuality, and projects that loathing onto any sexually-active woman in her domain. Although it takes a painfully long while, Karen eventually goes completely 'round the bend (it's obvious she wasn't entirely there to begin with) and becomes - what else - a knife-wielding loon.

Along the way we're treated to intentionally over-the-top dialogue about people's naughty bits; references to Orwell and 9/11; crude attempts at gore; masturbation; hallucinations; endless leering, groping and filth-ridden tirades from Larocca (who seems to have styled Christine after Asia Argento); bizarre mush-mouthed line delivery from the heavily-accented Moonshine; and interior decor cleverly incorporating the word "CUNTBAG." Good times, sure, if not particularly erotic.

The husband-and-wife filmmaking team of Hellfire and Moonshine (there's the makings of a Psychobilly band in there somewhere) apparently fashion themselves avant-garde artistes - Hellfire's new video label is dubbed "Electric Daisy Pushers" - with a strong desire to emulate the grimy mean streak of '60s/'70s-era 42nd Street grindhouse "roughies" in an effort to shock and titillate their audience. That's all fine and good, and a worthwhile cause, but I'm just not sure where the aforementioned sensations were supposed to kick in. As for overall sex appeal, Our leading ladies could be considered alluring to the Gothically inclined - Larocca is particularly tasty, in a sleazy sort of way. I adore alabaster-skinned, tattooed, raven-tressed vixens myself; so much, in fact, that I married one. But as for shocking psycho-sexual content... sure, I'm pretty jaded about this stuff by now, but frankly the so-called "disturbing" footage provokes little more than a half-hearted "Huh?"

Not much to say about the DVD presentation, but here goes: we got a full-frame SOV project here, without any attempt to look like anything other than what it is - a home movie filmed in and around some guy's apartment. A fairly well-shot one, to be fair, and chock full o' pubes, but a home movie nonetheless. Even taking that into account, there are some glaring digital flaws, and the audio is plagued by hissy, substandard recording (everyone sounds like they're acting their little hearts out inside a box of saltines) and mumbled dialogue - Moonshine's accent, though exotic, demolishes any hope of intelligibility. On the plus side, the score features some pretty cool tunes, including an odd trip-hop cover of Joy Division's "Love Will Tear Us Apart."

Extras? Eh, so-so. We get a long blooper reel - the highlight of which is a blood-soaked Larocca skipping gaily in a field - a trailer for this flick, and one for Hellfire's S&M epic ORGASM TORTURE IN SATAN'S RAPE CLINIC, which I suspect may not be suitable for children.

While I applaud the spirit and wanton lewdness of Hellfire and company for moving beyond the playful soft-porn SOV fare purveyed by the likes of Seduction Cinema (of which Moonshine and Larocca are alumni) and into much darker territory, the old-school sleaze formula doesn't quite gel here, and comes off a bit forced. It's not dull by any stretch, but it's not exactly as earth-moving as the filmmakers would have you believe. Still, I wouldn't mind seeing what these plucky creative kids conjure up next... hell, I'd probably see it just for another glimpse of Ruby's adorable six-gun hip tattoos. Yow!