Review: The ABCs of Death (2012)


Review by Tristan Bishop

The horror anthology film has a long and chequered history – from the rightly-lauded Ealing Studios curveball Dead Of Night (1945) through the 60s/70s Amicus boom (which brought us classics like 1965’s Dr Terror’s House Of Horrors and 1974’s From Beyond The Grave, but also climaxed in one of the worst films ever committed to celluloid, Roy Ward Baker’s 1981 abomination The Monster Club) and to 80s triumphs like Creepshow, and the more recent Trick’r Treat. The ABCs Of Death is the latest in that lineage, but is rather more extreme. Not in terms of graphic content (although some of the segments certainly go way beyond anything found in the aforementioned films), but in sheer scope, as what we are presented with here are 26 short films in just over two hours (the end credits take up a generous amount of running time!)

The mathematically-minded amongst you have probably already gone “What? An average of 4 minutes per film? Surely that’s a ludicrously short amount of time to tell a story in?” And yes, it is. In contrast to the aforementioned anthologies – in which the segments were generally around 20 minutes, and were usually tied up with some kind of wraparound segment which had stories being told by one or more characters – ABCs goes straight in and presents a film for each letter of the alphabet which corresponds to the death(s) on screen: from A for Apocalypse, to Z for Zetsemetsu. What’s more, each of the segments is directed by a different director from around the world, each of whom had to make their segment with $5000 given to them by producer Ant Timpson.

This makes ABCs both a difficult and very easy film to review. Difficult because of the sheer scope of subject material and tone on display here – the films range from gore fests to arty vignettes to all-out comedies. And very easy because I’m sure you’re already aware from the above that ABCs is an intriguing, often-fascinating, often-pointless and almost hilariously uneven watch.

One very impressive aspect is the amount of talent on display here – such genre names as Ben Wheatley, Xavier Gens, Srdjan Spasojevic, Ti West and Noboru Iguchi. One would be forgiven for thinking this is a snapshot of the state of the horror scene at the moment, but as the directors are given free rein and tight budgets/times the results tend to be a little different when freed from the usual commercially-imposed constraints of the horror genre.

I will now give a quick run-down of the best and worst/most interesting segments here (taking care to avoid any spoilers, which is tough considering the length of some of these):

Dogfight by Marcel Sarmiento (co-director of Deadgirl, a film I have avoided due to the unpleasant subject matter and reception) is possibly my favourite of the bunch. A beautifully filmed revenge tale without dialogue set in an underground world where men fight dogs for money. Dogfight impresses with very clever editing and cinematography, and makes me want to keep an eye on Sarmiento’s future work.
Exterminate by Angela Bettis is one of the most disappointing segments here, especially as I am a big fan of Bettis’ acting work with Lucky McKee. Here she phones in a well-known urban myth without humour or flair.
Fart by Noboru Iguchi seems to be one of the more unpopular segments here, but I guess Iguchi’s blend of punk rock attitude, disgusting subject matter and twisted sweetness as evidenced in films such as Dead Sushi and Mutant Girls Squad are an acquired taste. Personally I laughed like a drain at this one (and also felt a bit queasy).
Hydro-Electric Diffusion by Thomas Malling (previous credit : Norwegian Ninja!) is one of the oddest in the bunch, and comes across as a live action WWII Tex Avery cartoon as played by furries. Your enjoyment of this one probably depends on your tolerance for silliness and/or amount of drugs consumed in your lifetime. I thought it was awesome.
Libido by Timo Tjahjanto (Macabre) is one of the nastiest pieces in the film, and brought to mind A Serbian Film with its mix of violence and sex. Unlike A Serbian Film however, any type of political element is unclear and it ends up being shocking for the sake of shock. That said, it is an effective entry, and certainly serves to keep the viewer awake.
Miscarriage by Ti West is very short, nasty, offensive and pointless and only adds to further mystify me to the enduring popularity of West. Possibly the weakest episode here, even worse as I suspect we are meant to find it amusing.
Orgasm by Bruno Forzani and Héléne Catte, the creators of the divisive Amer, is the most abstract of the bunch. If you enjoyed Amer then this blend of pop-art and kink should be right up your street. If not, you’ll shrug it off.
Quack by Adam Wingard and Simon Barrett is an amusing and self-referential entry (one of two here, alongside the execrable WTF) and contains some of the bigger laughs in the film.
Removed by Srdjan Spasojevic (of Serbian Film infamy) is an interesting, bloody but very arty piece about the nature of film making. Some arresting imagery here, but bound to disappoint those looking for the savagery of his earlier work.
Toilet by Lee Hardcastle is included here as the result of a competition held to find the 26th segment for the film, and it turns out to be one of the most entertaining here – a claymation childhood nightmare which delivers a perfect mixture of laughs and gore.

WTF by Jon Schnepp is just horrible – what I can only assume is the wet dream of a 13 year old boy who has been trapped inside a Commodore Amiga.
XXL by Xavier Gens is a something of a feminist comment on society’s attitude to imperfect bodies. Commendable but lacks the punch it should have had.

In summing up – if you’ve ever sat through a short film selection at a film festival you’ll have exactly the right idea what to expect from ABCs Of Death. You certainly won’t come away feeling overly satisfied, but that’s the nature of the beast. However if you are interested in the short film form as an artwork in itself then this is essential viewing. Just be warned, it’s a very uneven ride indeed.

Monster Pictures release The ABCs of Death to 26 cinemas around the UK from 26th April (full details here), before releasing it to Region 2 DVD and Blu-ray on 3rd June.