OK, fellow cine-geeks, let's admit it. We've got a chubby for sleazy, trashy Euro-horror. The kind of crude, politically incorrect, malicious and over-the-top stuff that flooded '70s drive-in double-bills with nudity, sadistic violence, kinky sex, demonic rites and leering lesbians. They just don't make 'em like that anymore... or don't they? Leave it to Shriek Show, the horror branch of cult distributor Media Blasters, and a prolific purveyor in smut 'n' gore oddities from all corners of the globe, to set about correcting that deficit with their first original feature.

It's unfortunate that the genre from which FLESH FOR THE BEAST draws its main plot is one of the most overused in horror history: the good old "Paranormal Investigators vs. Nasty Haunted House" scenario, first pioneered in 1963 with THE HAUNTING and since beaten to mush by eight-hundred-plus films of wildly varying quality. Still, in keeping with the spicy European flavor of the proceedings, the plot is pretty much incidental, acting merely as a serving tray for heapin' helpings of raw entrails and creepy naked chicks.

Our crew of demon-fodder specialists - and two really obnoxious "interns" who don't die nearly soon enough - file into the abode of Anton LaVey-wannabe John Stoker (one of many characters named after horror novelists), in answer to his request to locate and identify the house's resident ooga-boogas. It seems the house has become a repository of naughty energy since the long-ago disappearance of its previous owner, occultist Alfred Fischer. The male researchers split up (naturally) to investigate the crumbling rooms and creaking, moaning corridors, while the female - and psychic - member of the team (Jane Scarlett, a budget Jennifer Jason Leigh) is accompanied by Mr. "Am I Evil" Stoker, who seems to be guiding her toward certain sensitive areas (of the house, not himself).

The film's middle third involves the investigators' encounters with the resident spooksters - namely a trio of lanky, weird-looking but always ready-to-peel femmes fatales (heavy on the fatale). These chicks are less than human, more than ghost, love doin' the hippity-dippity, and have nasty big pointy teeth. Big fucking, blood-sucking and gut-chucking ensues; cool zombies run amok (though not of the flesh-hungry variety); shark-faced demons dance naked in piles of steaming intestines. Kinda like one of my Halloween parties, except without the liquor.

Written and directed by softcore specialist Terry M. West (yes, the same guy who made SATAN'S SCHOOL FOR SLUTS, God bless his horny ass), FLESH has tapped into the renegade spirit of flicks like DEVIL'S NIGHTMARE or EXORCISMO, right down to the modest budget, overwrought dialogue and nonsensical plot turns. West even went as far as to recruit European horror legends Caroline Munro and Aldo Sanbrell (their first teaming since GOLDEN VOYAGE OF SINBAD) for a short but fun flashback sequence. Sadly, the veterans' refined performances stand in stark contrast to those of the other actors, many of whom play it way too big, as if performing onstage; the rigid blocking of the early dialogue scenes only adds to this staginess. It's only after dispensing with the stale exposition in the first third that the film really kicks into high gear, with surreal, dynamic camerawork, Argento-style color schemes, and really inventive editing tricks. It's all tied neatly together by enveloping, disorienting sound effects and a truly inspired score by Buckethead, resulting in a total-immersion nightmare that's worth the wait.

Shot on 16mm (the indie film format of choice), the film has apparently undergone some digital post work, desaturating colors to enhance the tomblike, gothic look of the location (a super-cool old mansion in upstate New York, originally built as a public library). West's expressionist use of light and shadow is impressive; you wouldn't think it given his T&A resume, but his early short BLOOD FOR THE MUSE (sounds vaguely familiar, doesn't it?) does demonstrate a flair for stylish, sexy horror that really blooms here. If he could just find a better story to hang it on, I expect his next Shriek Show gig could be gonzo wicked.

Given Media Blasters' attention to detail on other productions, it's no surprise that they really pour on the sauce when it comes to packaging their own project. The 1.85 print is spotless, with the touch of grain that you'd expect from 16mm - and appropriately enough, the grain enhances the European retro-flavor. The image has superb depth, considering the limits of the stock (the lighting demands must have been enormous). The 5.1 sound mix is broad and beefy, with sharp and jarring effects from every direction. Buckethead's superb score wraps you up in eerie screeches and backward chords, creating a groovy nightmare vibe. Extras include a lengthy making-of piece (featuring lots of great reactions to the gory stuff from cast and crew alike); an interview with Munro and Sanbrell; stills; trailers for this and other Shriek Show titles; an Easter egg for Buckethead fans; and an odd prologue featuring Sanbrell, which hides the main menu access and kinda gets in the way.

Disappointing in spots, but satisfying overall, FLESH scores where it counts by getting down in it with all the tits and blood you can eat. (Unless you pick up the R-rated version, which probably sucks doggie nuts.) The filmmakers have enough style and technical savvy to raise it above basic exploitation. But at the same time, these guys aren't afraid to travel the road of excess... which inevitably leads to the palace of wisdom. Or so I hear. Hey, screw off, it's fun.