The ZombieTastic Review of:
I Eat Your Skin
I Eat Your Skin
Directors: Del Tenney
Year of Release: 1964
Country of Origin: USA
Type of Zombie Film: Racist/Misogynist Beach Party
Also Known as: Zombie, Zombies, Zombie Bloodbath, Voodoo
Blood Bath, Woodoo Island
Part of a series?: No.
The Scoring
Plot: Some guy named Lord Carrington, who doesn't actually appear in this film, owns an
island named "Voodoo Island", which, we will later learn, is an island on which
voodoo-type-things are happening. That's what we call "truth in advertising." Also on this
island, a doctor is performing experiments in an attempt to cure cancer, and there are
rumors of human sacrifice going on as well, although who exactly started these rumors is
unknown. Enter author Tom Harris; in an attempt to gain a setting for his next novel, Harris,
his agent Duncan Fairchild, and Fairchild's wife (she's named Coral, but everyone
pronounces her name as "Carl"), travel to the island. While they're there, Tom Harris
deflowers a virgin after a bunch of zombies show up and start messing with everybody; in
the meantime, there are a lot of people dancing around for no apparent reason. Then, the
island explodes (more on this later). Let's give credit where credit is due: I haven't watched
a zombie movie with a plot that convoluted in a long time.
Score: 4
Exposition: At the film's beginning, Duncan Fairchild lengthily explains the set-up for the
entire movie, using the word "zombie" in the process. This wouldn't be a bad thing if it
weren't for the fact that it means that I Eat Your Skin features almost as many uses of the
word "zombie" as it does actual zombies. I'm no mathematician, but something seems
slightly off with that ratio.
Following this, for most of the film there is mercifully little exposition, save a brief
anthropological discussion between the characters of Tom Harris and Charles Bentley.
This conversation is forgivable, though, because it takes place after a dinner party, and who
doesn't like to talk anthropology after a meal, am I right?
The problem, however, with the minute amount of exposition in I Eat Your Skin is that by the
time you get to the end of the film, you're not really sure what's happening.
Directory/screenwriter Del Tenney apparently realized this, because at film's end the
character of Dr. Biladeau quickly, forcibly explains everything that actually went on during the
preceding 75 minutes with a few lines of dialogue. First, as Voodoo Island is about to
explode (seriously), Tom Harris asks, "What happened? What's that noise?", to which Dr.
Biladeau replies, "The end of Voodoo Island and Charles Bentley's dream of conquering
the Earth with an indestructible army." Oh, so...Charles Bentley was trying to conquer the
entire Earth? That's pretty interesting, considering that up until that point, there was nothing
to indicate that anyone in the film was trying to do anything aside from getting laid and/or
write a novel. Immediately following this, the harried exposition continues with Dr.
Biladeau's deathbed (or, more accurately, "deathboat") confession, in which he explains
exactly how his experiments inadvertently created all of the zombies in the first place.
These scenes left me wondering--why did they make a movie at all? Why didn't they just
shoot footage of two people explaining the film's plot? Sure, it would be a pretty lame
movie, but it would also only take about 60 seconds to get through, thereby giving the
audience a lot of free time, which is hard to come by in this work-a-day world of ours. Let
this be a lesson to all aspiring filmmakers.
Score: 2
Plausibility: As you can probably gather from what's been written so far, there isn't much
that's plausible in I Eat Your Skin, unless you're under the impression that remote
Caribbean islands are populated almost exclusively by white ladies and zombies. Of
course, I've never been to Jamaica, so I wouldn't know if this is true or not. Wait, is that what
Billy Ocean was singing about in Caribbean Queen--white ladies and zombies? Wow,
after all these years, that song finally makes sense. Better late than never.
Still, lest you think that I'm giving I Eat Your Skin short shrift in the plausibility department,
consider this: on the way to Voodoo Island, our main characters find themselves in a plane
that's about to run out of fuel. How do they deal with this? By letting Tom Harris--the author,
the constantly drunk author--take over control of the plane from the experienced pilot who
has been, you know, competently controlling the plane up until that point. Then, Tom Harris
calmly lands the plan on a beach. ON A FUCKING BEACH. The lesson here is simple:
there's no emergency situation too intense for a wino to handle.
Score: 2
Year of Release: 1964
Country of Origin: USA
Type of Zombie Film: Racist/Misogynist Beach Party
Also Known as: Zombie, Zombies, Zombie Bloodbath, Voodoo
Blood Bath, Woodoo Island
Part of a series?: No.
The Scoring
Plot: Some guy named Lord Carrington, who doesn't actually appear in this film, owns an
island named "Voodoo Island", which, we will later learn, is an island on which
voodoo-type-things are happening. That's what we call "truth in advertising." Also on this
island, a doctor is performing experiments in an attempt to cure cancer, and there are
rumors of human sacrifice going on as well, although who exactly started these rumors is
unknown. Enter author Tom Harris; in an attempt to gain a setting for his next novel, Harris,
his agent Duncan Fairchild, and Fairchild's wife (she's named Coral, but everyone
pronounces her name as "Carl"), travel to the island. While they're there, Tom Harris
deflowers a virgin after a bunch of zombies show up and start messing with everybody; in
the meantime, there are a lot of people dancing around for no apparent reason. Then, the
island explodes (more on this later). Let's give credit where credit is due: I haven't watched
a zombie movie with a plot that convoluted in a long time.
Score: 4
Exposition: At the film's beginning, Duncan Fairchild lengthily explains the set-up for the
entire movie, using the word "zombie" in the process. This wouldn't be a bad thing if it
weren't for the fact that it means that I Eat Your Skin features almost as many uses of the
word "zombie" as it does actual zombies. I'm no mathematician, but something seems
slightly off with that ratio.
Following this, for most of the film there is mercifully little exposition, save a brief
anthropological discussion between the characters of Tom Harris and Charles Bentley.
This conversation is forgivable, though, because it takes place after a dinner party, and who
doesn't like to talk anthropology after a meal, am I right?
The problem, however, with the minute amount of exposition in I Eat Your Skin is that by the
time you get to the end of the film, you're not really sure what's happening.
Directory/screenwriter Del Tenney apparently realized this, because at film's end the
character of Dr. Biladeau quickly, forcibly explains everything that actually went on during the
preceding 75 minutes with a few lines of dialogue. First, as Voodoo Island is about to
explode (seriously), Tom Harris asks, "What happened? What's that noise?", to which Dr.
Biladeau replies, "The end of Voodoo Island and Charles Bentley's dream of conquering
the Earth with an indestructible army." Oh, so...Charles Bentley was trying to conquer the
entire Earth? That's pretty interesting, considering that up until that point, there was nothing
to indicate that anyone in the film was trying to do anything aside from getting laid and/or
write a novel. Immediately following this, the harried exposition continues with Dr.
Biladeau's deathbed (or, more accurately, "deathboat") confession, in which he explains
exactly how his experiments inadvertently created all of the zombies in the first place.
These scenes left me wondering--why did they make a movie at all? Why didn't they just
shoot footage of two people explaining the film's plot? Sure, it would be a pretty lame
movie, but it would also only take about 60 seconds to get through, thereby giving the
audience a lot of free time, which is hard to come by in this work-a-day world of ours. Let
this be a lesson to all aspiring filmmakers.
Score: 2
Plausibility: As you can probably gather from what's been written so far, there isn't much
that's plausible in I Eat Your Skin, unless you're under the impression that remote
Caribbean islands are populated almost exclusively by white ladies and zombies. Of
course, I've never been to Jamaica, so I wouldn't know if this is true or not. Wait, is that what
Billy Ocean was singing about in Caribbean Queen--white ladies and zombies? Wow,
after all these years, that song finally makes sense. Better late than never.
Still, lest you think that I'm giving I Eat Your Skin short shrift in the plausibility department,
consider this: on the way to Voodoo Island, our main characters find themselves in a plane
that's about to run out of fuel. How do they deal with this? By letting Tom Harris--the author,
the constantly drunk author--take over control of the plane from the experienced pilot who
has been, you know, competently controlling the plane up until that point. Then, Tom Harris
calmly lands the plan on a beach. ON A FUCKING BEACH. The lesson here is simple:
there's no emergency situation too intense for a wino to handle.
Score: 2
| I Eat Your...skis? |
| Is it even possible to blow up an island? |
| Zombie, or dirty guy lost in the woods? You tell me. |
Datedness: If the facts that I Eat Your Skin was filmed in black and white and features a jazz
soundtrack not utilized for the purposes of nostalgia don't clue you in that the movie is from
a different era, there's always the rampant sexism and racism!
Score: 1
Soundtrack: With regards to the music in I Eat Your Skin: enough with the bongos, already.
Then again, according to one of the few film credits that I could actually read, I Eat Your
Skin's music was composed by Lon E. Norman, and with a name that fierce, you can use
as many bongos as you want. I retract my earlier criticism.
Score: 3
soundtrack not utilized for the purposes of nostalgia don't clue you in that the movie is from
a different era, there's always the rampant sexism and racism!
Score: 1
Soundtrack: With regards to the music in I Eat Your Skin: enough with the bongos, already.
Then again, according to one of the few film credits that I could actually read, I Eat Your
Skin's music was composed by Lon E. Norman, and with a name that fierce, you can use
as many bongos as you want. I retract my earlier criticism.
Score: 3
| Am I the only one uncomfortable with what's happening in this picture? |
| The worst thing about black & white movies is that you can never tell what people are drinking--these could be iced teas, they could be turpentine, they could be anything in between. We just don't know. That kind of uncertainty can really haunt a person. |
| Misogyny, captured here in glorious black and white! |
| Bongos, bongos, bongos! |
Zombie "Orgy" Scenes: Does this film have any zombie "orgy" scenes? What do you
think? That being said, this is another instance in this film where a lack of something is
probably for the best, because I'm sure that once Tom Harris got wind that an "orgy" of any
type was occurring, he would have shown up and ruined everything with his perviness.
Have I mentioned that Tom Harris is a pervert?
Score: 2
Anti-Zombie Weaponry: Weapons used to battle zombies in I Eat Your Skin include a
pistol, a tiki torch, an exploding airplane, and of course, the raging libido of Tom Harris.
Surprisingly, all of these weapons are effective.
Score: 4
Zombification Explanation: As indicated earlier, people become zombiefied in I Eat Your
Skin after they're injected with a weird snake-venom-based brew concocted by Dr.
Biladeau, thereby proving true the old adage that only circus folk should handle snakes.
Indeed.
Score: 4
Zombie Uniqueness: As they're technically mind-controlled humans instead of the undead,
the zombies in this film are unique compared to other, modern zombies. After all, they can
effectively track humans in dense jungle, they can use machetes, many of them seem to
know judo, they like to kidnap people, and perhaps most interestingly: they apparently get
irritated when they don't get invited to dinner parties. We know this last point to be true
thanks to the scene in which regular humans are having dinner together, and a zombie
stares longingly at the party through an open window, only to then unleash his zombie fury
on the party participants. There's a lesson in here for all of us: don't leave zombies off of
your dinner party invite list, lest you want to be attacked by them. Note: this lesson also
applies to in-laws.
Score: 4
think? That being said, this is another instance in this film where a lack of something is
probably for the best, because I'm sure that once Tom Harris got wind that an "orgy" of any
type was occurring, he would have shown up and ruined everything with his perviness.
Have I mentioned that Tom Harris is a pervert?
Score: 2
Anti-Zombie Weaponry: Weapons used to battle zombies in I Eat Your Skin include a
pistol, a tiki torch, an exploding airplane, and of course, the raging libido of Tom Harris.
Surprisingly, all of these weapons are effective.
Score: 4
Zombification Explanation: As indicated earlier, people become zombiefied in I Eat Your
Skin after they're injected with a weird snake-venom-based brew concocted by Dr.
Biladeau, thereby proving true the old adage that only circus folk should handle snakes.
Indeed.
Score: 4
Zombie Uniqueness: As they're technically mind-controlled humans instead of the undead,
the zombies in this film are unique compared to other, modern zombies. After all, they can
effectively track humans in dense jungle, they can use machetes, many of them seem to
know judo, they like to kidnap people, and perhaps most interestingly: they apparently get
irritated when they don't get invited to dinner parties. We know this last point to be true
thanks to the scene in which regular humans are having dinner together, and a zombie
stares longingly at the party through an open window, only to then unleash his zombie fury
on the party participants. There's a lesson in here for all of us: don't leave zombies off of
your dinner party invite list, lest you want to be attacked by them. Note: this lesson also
applies to in-laws.
Score: 4
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Final Scene: After surviving Voodoo Island, Tom Harris returns to the United States and
pens a book named...Voodoo Island. All's well that ends well. Except, I guess, for the
innocent people who were on Voodoo Island (the land mass, not the book) when it
exploded. So, all's well that ends well for the people that it ends well for. Yes.
Score: 2
Comedy: I Eat Your Skin's idea of comedy is to have a bald douchebag whose wife is trying
to bone another dude fall into pool after missing a punch, and then to have the same bald
douchebag run into tree. We know that these actions are supposed to by funny because
Tom Harris and Duncan Fairchild spend a good long while laughing at them. The lesson
is clear: if no one's laughing at your jokes, pay them to laugh at your jokes. Gallagher, are
you listening?
Score: 1
pens a book named...Voodoo Island. All's well that ends well. Except, I guess, for the
innocent people who were on Voodoo Island (the land mass, not the book) when it
exploded. So, all's well that ends well for the people that it ends well for. Yes.
Score: 2
Comedy: I Eat Your Skin's idea of comedy is to have a bald douchebag whose wife is trying
to bone another dude fall into pool after missing a punch, and then to have the same bald
douchebag run into tree. We know that these actions are supposed to by funny because
Tom Harris and Duncan Fairchild spend a good long while laughing at them. The lesson
is clear: if no one's laughing at your jokes, pay them to laugh at your jokes. Gallagher, are
you listening?
Score: 1
Token Scientist: I Eat Your Skin's token scientist is the hapless Dr. August Biladeau,
whose snake venom-based experiments inadvertently cause zombification. This raises a
question that I often have when watching zombie movies: why does so much science, when
it goes awry, inadvertently cause zombification? Is this a component of the Scientific
Method that I'm simply unaware of? How come the unintended effects of science
experiments never seem to cause something useful to happen, like enabling someone to
shit gold doubloons, or turning mosquitoes into pepperoni pizzas? It's never something
like that--no, it's always murderous zombies. I think I speak for all of us when I say: thanks
for nothing, science.
Score: 3
Token Fat Guy: There aren't really any fat guys in I Eat Your Skin, which is weird because
skin is really fattening. Maybe everyone on Voodoo Island is so thin because they spend a
lot of their free time dancing to bongo music. I have no idea. But, what I do know is that at
one point, the odious Coral Fairchild says, referring to her husband, "Get a load of talking
tubbo." So, while we don't have any token fat guys, we do at least have a lady who hates her
thin husband so much, she's willing to call him fat for no apparent reason. That's got to
count for something.
Score: 2
Best Line: There's no contest as to what the best line is in I Eat Your Skin; it's this: "I'm right
in the middle of the greatest canasta game ever!" This is how Coral Fairchild protests to
her husband when he tells her that they're going to visit Voodoo Island (I'm not sure why
she wouldn't want to go to Voodoo Island--I guess no one bothered to tell her that it's full of
virgins). Seriously, that's the greatest reason for not going on a Caribbean zombie
adventure I've ever heard. Actually, that's the greatest reason for not going on any zombie
adventure that I've ever heard.
Before we move on, special note must be made of this line, uttered by the ever-horny Tom
Harris: "Hey, lay off...you'll get the paper all soggy!" I mention it here not because I think it's
in the running for 'best line', but simply to document what is quite possibly the dirtiest thing
that I've ever heard uttered in a film. Tom Harris: super-perv.
Score: 4
Intangibles: Alright, we've been dancing around the obvious here for quite a while, and it's
time I came right out and said it: this movie, entitled I Eat Your Skin, has absolutely no skin
eating in it whatsoever. As a matter of fact, I'm not sure that anything--let alone skin--is
eaten in this film, either by zombies (they are, after all, voodoo zombies, not undead
zombies) or by humans (for example, even in the dinner scene, I don't think you see anyone
actually eat anything). Am I the only one who finds this to be completely unacceptable? To
put this another way: what the shit?
Score: 1
whose snake venom-based experiments inadvertently cause zombification. This raises a
question that I often have when watching zombie movies: why does so much science, when
it goes awry, inadvertently cause zombification? Is this a component of the Scientific
Method that I'm simply unaware of? How come the unintended effects of science
experiments never seem to cause something useful to happen, like enabling someone to
shit gold doubloons, or turning mosquitoes into pepperoni pizzas? It's never something
like that--no, it's always murderous zombies. I think I speak for all of us when I say: thanks
for nothing, science.
Score: 3
Token Fat Guy: There aren't really any fat guys in I Eat Your Skin, which is weird because
skin is really fattening. Maybe everyone on Voodoo Island is so thin because they spend a
lot of their free time dancing to bongo music. I have no idea. But, what I do know is that at
one point, the odious Coral Fairchild says, referring to her husband, "Get a load of talking
tubbo." So, while we don't have any token fat guys, we do at least have a lady who hates her
thin husband so much, she's willing to call him fat for no apparent reason. That's got to
count for something.
Score: 2
Best Line: There's no contest as to what the best line is in I Eat Your Skin; it's this: "I'm right
in the middle of the greatest canasta game ever!" This is how Coral Fairchild protests to
her husband when he tells her that they're going to visit Voodoo Island (I'm not sure why
she wouldn't want to go to Voodoo Island--I guess no one bothered to tell her that it's full of
virgins). Seriously, that's the greatest reason for not going on a Caribbean zombie
adventure I've ever heard. Actually, that's the greatest reason for not going on any zombie
adventure that I've ever heard.
Before we move on, special note must be made of this line, uttered by the ever-horny Tom
Harris: "Hey, lay off...you'll get the paper all soggy!" I mention it here not because I think it's
in the running for 'best line', but simply to document what is quite possibly the dirtiest thing
that I've ever heard uttered in a film. Tom Harris: super-perv.
Score: 4
Intangibles: Alright, we've been dancing around the obvious here for quite a while, and it's
time I came right out and said it: this movie, entitled I Eat Your Skin, has absolutely no skin
eating in it whatsoever. As a matter of fact, I'm not sure that anything--let alone skin--is
eaten in this film, either by zombies (they are, after all, voodoo zombies, not undead
zombies) or by humans (for example, even in the dinner scene, I don't think you see anyone
actually eat anything). Am I the only one who finds this to be completely unacceptable? To
put this another way: what the shit?
Score: 1
Makeup: I have seen the makeup work in I Eat Your Skin praised elsewhere, but
personally, I thought it both sucked and blew simultaneously. To me, the zombies in this
film simply look like dudes with dirt rubbed on them. That's okay when your movie has
Zombie Dirtbath as an alternate title; it's not okay when your movie has Zombie Bloodbath
as an alternate title. I think you see my point.
Score: 1
personally, I thought it both sucked and blew simultaneously. To me, the zombies in this
film simply look like dudes with dirt rubbed on them. That's okay when your movie has
Zombie Dirtbath as an alternate title; it's not okay when your movie has Zombie Bloodbath
as an alternate title. I think you see my point.
Score: 1
Breast Factor/Nudity: This being a movie from 1964, there's no nudity. However, there is
ritual dancing by a lady in a bikini. For the era, that's essentially full-frontal nudity.
Salacious!
Score: 1
Lead Actor: William Joyce as Tom Harris. The character of Tom Harris is a novelist who
seems to write for the sole reason of getting laid, mainly by quoting his own work to the
ladies. For example, at the outset of I Eat Your Skin, Tom Harris pitches woo by reading
lines (lines that include elegant turns of phrase such as "the veins in his throbbing
temples") from his novel Hot Lips to besotted poolside females. This seems to actually
work, so I guess the point is: I'm in the wrong line of work. Actually, the point is: Hollywood
is full of shit.
Anyways, William Joyce does an acceptable job in the lead role, bringing a whole lot of
handsome blandness to a role that requires a whole lot of handsome blandness. I would
like to point out that he bears a striking resemblance to Reed Richards, and the amount of
ladies that he apparently bangs makes him eligible for the title of 'the James Bond of
writers', but ultimately these are inadequate comparisons--he's a writer, so we should
compare him to other writers. So, let's simply say that he has the movie-star
handsomeness of Jack Kerouac, the swaggering machismo of Ernest Hemingway, and the
pure, unadulterated literary talent of Danielle Steel. I guess those are good things.
Score: 3
ritual dancing by a lady in a bikini. For the era, that's essentially full-frontal nudity.
Salacious!
Score: 1
Lead Actor: William Joyce as Tom Harris. The character of Tom Harris is a novelist who
seems to write for the sole reason of getting laid, mainly by quoting his own work to the
ladies. For example, at the outset of I Eat Your Skin, Tom Harris pitches woo by reading
lines (lines that include elegant turns of phrase such as "the veins in his throbbing
temples") from his novel Hot Lips to besotted poolside females. This seems to actually
work, so I guess the point is: I'm in the wrong line of work. Actually, the point is: Hollywood
is full of shit.
Anyways, William Joyce does an acceptable job in the lead role, bringing a whole lot of
handsome blandness to a role that requires a whole lot of handsome blandness. I would
like to point out that he bears a striking resemblance to Reed Richards, and the amount of
ladies that he apparently bangs makes him eligible for the title of 'the James Bond of
writers', but ultimately these are inadequate comparisons--he's a writer, so we should
compare him to other writers. So, let's simply say that he has the movie-star
handsomeness of Jack Kerouac, the swaggering machismo of Ernest Hemingway, and the
pure, unadulterated literary talent of Danielle Steel. I guess those are good things.
Score: 3
| This picture nicely illustrates Tom Harris's lechery: he met the girl he's groping about four minutes before this scene. What a perv! |
| I don't know what this is supposed to be, but something tells me it's not good. |
| A sad zombie, wondering why he wasn't invited to dinner. |
| If you think this guy looks bad, you should have seen him before he got Botox. |
Zombie Consistency: The zombies in I Eat Your Skin are consistently consistent, and I
mean that in a non-redundant way. Consider: they all unquestioningly obey orders, they all
have really bad skin, they all have the aforementioned bug eyes, and perhaps most
importantly, every time they show up, they're all accompanied by blaring brass music.
That's consistency you can sink your teeth into--although, as we've already established, not
literally.
Score: 4
Signature Zombie: There really isn't one zombie who stands out from the automaton-pack
in this movie, so for this category we'll have to go with the first zombie that shows up in the
film, who makes the most of his screen-time by chopping off a guy's head. If you're going to
show up, you might as well kill somebody, that's what I say.
Score: 3
Total Points: 70
Verdict: There are lots of negative things to say about I Eat Your Skin: it's a complete
waste of an excellent title, it's filled with racist and misogynistic dialogue, without dancing it
would only be about 40 minutes in length, and, it's fucking boring (full disclosure: I started
folding laundry halfway through this film--it was that or fall asleep). Still, despite all of this,
the film scores surprisingly high. Why? I'll be honest: for all of its numerous faults, I Eat
Your Skin's cheesiness and complete lack of shame makes it slightly enjoyable to sit
through. Maybe 'enjoyable' is the wrong word here. It's like this: watching a typical "bad"
zombie movie is like having a root canal, whereas watching I Eat Your Skin is like having a
deep cleaning--it's not necessarily something that you want to be doing, but things could be
much worse, and ultimately, while in pain, you're somehow better off for the experience.
That's what we call a 'backhanded compliment'. But, still: it's a compliment nonetheless.
You're welcome, I Eat Your Skin. Now, let's all go out and find some virgins!
Next Time: Dawn of the Dead [2004 Remake]
mean that in a non-redundant way. Consider: they all unquestioningly obey orders, they all
have really bad skin, they all have the aforementioned bug eyes, and perhaps most
importantly, every time they show up, they're all accompanied by blaring brass music.
That's consistency you can sink your teeth into--although, as we've already established, not
literally.
Score: 4
Signature Zombie: There really isn't one zombie who stands out from the automaton-pack
in this movie, so for this category we'll have to go with the first zombie that shows up in the
film, who makes the most of his screen-time by chopping off a guy's head. If you're going to
show up, you might as well kill somebody, that's what I say.
Score: 3
Total Points: 70
Verdict: There are lots of negative things to say about I Eat Your Skin: it's a complete
waste of an excellent title, it's filled with racist and misogynistic dialogue, without dancing it
would only be about 40 minutes in length, and, it's fucking boring (full disclosure: I started
folding laundry halfway through this film--it was that or fall asleep). Still, despite all of this,
the film scores surprisingly high. Why? I'll be honest: for all of its numerous faults, I Eat
Your Skin's cheesiness and complete lack of shame makes it slightly enjoyable to sit
through. Maybe 'enjoyable' is the wrong word here. It's like this: watching a typical "bad"
zombie movie is like having a root canal, whereas watching I Eat Your Skin is like having a
deep cleaning--it's not necessarily something that you want to be doing, but things could be
much worse, and ultimately, while in pain, you're somehow better off for the experience.
That's what we call a 'backhanded compliment'. But, still: it's a compliment nonetheless.
You're welcome, I Eat Your Skin. Now, let's all go out and find some virgins!
Next Time: Dawn of the Dead [2004 Remake]
| Yikes--it looks like the zombies are taking things up a notch. |
Production Value: I purchased I Eat Your Skin as part of a zombie-movie DVD compilation
for about $15 (American). I mention this because I'm pretty sure that with that purchase, I
dramatically outspent I Eat Your Skin's budget. Don't think that's possible? Consider this:
the film's creators couldn't even be bothered to fit the film's title completely onscreen. Their
priorities were clearly elsewhere, and my guess is that they were focused on embezzling as
much money as they could from the film's backers. There are numerous other shocking
production atrocities committed in I Eat Your Skin, none worse, in my opinion, than the
absolutely atrocious voices used to dub the film's dialogue. Check out Coral Fairchild's
utterance of "It's so...TROPICAL!" for an illustration of this. I mean, the line sounds as if it
were being delivered by Vinnie Barbarino after he inhaled 1,000 cubic feet of helium. If
Coral Fairchild were a sweathog that would be acceptable, but considering that she's a
'society lady', it's problematic at best.
All of that being said, I must point out that in one sense, I Eat Your Skin's low production
values actually help it. Specifically, as the film was apparently edited by an armless gorilla
suffering from dementia, various scenes in the film jump all over the place; e.g., one
moment characters will be standing directly next to each other, and the next moment,
directly in front of your eyes, the characters will have magically changed positions by several
feet. This helps the film because it underscores its scattin'/bebopin' soundtrack--if the
music is going to jump and jive all over the place, shouldn't the visuals do so as well? Yes.
Yes they should. It's what the professionals call "synergy."
Score: 1
Special Effects: In I Eat Your Skin, the ratio of stock footage of snakes to special effects is
approximately two to one. That sounds lame, but when you consider how awful the film's
"effects" themselves are, you begin to realize that it makes a lot of sense. Personally, I can't
tell which special effect in I Eat Your Skin is least special: the scene in which a mannequin
gets its head chopped off, the scene in which a model plane that is supposed to be a real
plan "explodes", the numerous shots of people turning into zombies, which were all filmed
in stunning Dissolve-O-Vision (first made famous in I Was a Teenage Werewolf), or the
shot in which a recently exploded Voodoo Island is shown engulfed in flames. I think I'm
going to go with that last one, for the simple fact that it looks worse than any of the "effects"
my friends and I used to put into the home movies that we would make (films that, for the
record, were made by people with no film experience operating on a budget of two
shoelaces and a pot of coffee). Here's a tip: if you're going to try to pass off a model island
on fire as an actual island on fire, you might want to make sure that the flames you're using
aren't four times as tall as the island itself. That probably wouldn't happen in real life. I'm
just saying.
Score: 1
for about $15 (American). I mention this because I'm pretty sure that with that purchase, I
dramatically outspent I Eat Your Skin's budget. Don't think that's possible? Consider this:
the film's creators couldn't even be bothered to fit the film's title completely onscreen. Their
priorities were clearly elsewhere, and my guess is that they were focused on embezzling as
much money as they could from the film's backers. There are numerous other shocking
production atrocities committed in I Eat Your Skin, none worse, in my opinion, than the
absolutely atrocious voices used to dub the film's dialogue. Check out Coral Fairchild's
utterance of "It's so...TROPICAL!" for an illustration of this. I mean, the line sounds as if it
were being delivered by Vinnie Barbarino after he inhaled 1,000 cubic feet of helium. If
Coral Fairchild were a sweathog that would be acceptable, but considering that she's a
'society lady', it's problematic at best.
All of that being said, I must point out that in one sense, I Eat Your Skin's low production
values actually help it. Specifically, as the film was apparently edited by an armless gorilla
suffering from dementia, various scenes in the film jump all over the place; e.g., one
moment characters will be standing directly next to each other, and the next moment,
directly in front of your eyes, the characters will have magically changed positions by several
feet. This helps the film because it underscores its scattin'/bebopin' soundtrack--if the
music is going to jump and jive all over the place, shouldn't the visuals do so as well? Yes.
Yes they should. It's what the professionals call "synergy."
Score: 1
Special Effects: In I Eat Your Skin, the ratio of stock footage of snakes to special effects is
approximately two to one. That sounds lame, but when you consider how awful the film's
"effects" themselves are, you begin to realize that it makes a lot of sense. Personally, I can't
tell which special effect in I Eat Your Skin is least special: the scene in which a mannequin
gets its head chopped off, the scene in which a model plane that is supposed to be a real
plan "explodes", the numerous shots of people turning into zombies, which were all filmed
in stunning Dissolve-O-Vision (first made famous in I Was a Teenage Werewolf), or the
shot in which a recently exploded Voodoo Island is shown engulfed in flames. I think I'm
going to go with that last one, for the simple fact that it looks worse than any of the "effects"
my friends and I used to put into the home movies that we would make (films that, for the
record, were made by people with no film experience operating on a budget of two
shoelaces and a pot of coffee). Here's a tip: if you're going to try to pass off a model island
on fire as an actual island on fire, you might want to make sure that the flames you're using
aren't four times as tall as the island itself. That probably wouldn't happen in real life. I'm
just saying.
Score: 1
Scariness: While this film isn't scary, it does at least feature scary sounding music. So, the
form is there, just not the substance. I would liken this to when you were a kid and you
asked for a bunch of Transformers for Christmas, and Santa said "sounds like a plan" and
then gave you a bunch of Go-Bots. Again, I think you see my point.
Score: 1
Goriness: There's no gore in this film. None. What the hell am I even supposed to write
here?
Score: 1
form is there, just not the substance. I would liken this to when you were a kid and you
asked for a bunch of Transformers for Christmas, and Santa said "sounds like a plan" and
then gave you a bunch of Go-Bots. Again, I think you see my point.
Score: 1
Goriness: There's no gore in this film. None. What the hell am I even supposed to write
here?
Score: 1
Originality: One thing that is original about I Eat Your Skin is that while it features
numerous lines of dialogue spoke in a non-English language (Spanish, for example), none
of this dialogue is subtitled. Personally, I couldn't tell if this was an artistic choice or if it was
simply because the subtitles didn't fit on the screen. If you can't get your film's title to fit, how
are you going to get subtitles to fit? It's a serious question.
Something else original about I Eat Your Skin: when Duncan Fairchild convinces his star
literary client, Tom Harris, to go to an island "for research" by telling him that said island is
filled with virgins. I'm guessing that that's the first time that anyone convinced anyone to do
anything by waving virgins in front of his face (metaphorically speaking, of course). I don't
know about you, but the next time I'm having trouble convincing someone to do something,
I'm going to trot out this "full of virgins" chestnut. How could it not work?
Score: 3
Rewatchability: Considering that when you start this movie, you can't even read it's title, I
guess in some sense the film is, despite being quite lame, re-watchable, because you're
not 100% sure which movie you even watched in the first place. That's true by definition.
Score: 3
numerous lines of dialogue spoke in a non-English language (Spanish, for example), none
of this dialogue is subtitled. Personally, I couldn't tell if this was an artistic choice or if it was
simply because the subtitles didn't fit on the screen. If you can't get your film's title to fit, how
are you going to get subtitles to fit? It's a serious question.
Something else original about I Eat Your Skin: when Duncan Fairchild convinces his star
literary client, Tom Harris, to go to an island "for research" by telling him that said island is
filled with virgins. I'm guessing that that's the first time that anyone convinced anyone to do
anything by waving virgins in front of his face (metaphorically speaking, of course). I don't
know about you, but the next time I'm having trouble convincing someone to do something,
I'm going to trot out this "full of virgins" chestnut. How could it not work?
Score: 3
Rewatchability: Considering that when you start this movie, you can't even read it's title, I
guess in some sense the film is, despite being quite lame, re-watchable, because you're
not 100% sure which movie you even watched in the first place. That's true by definition.
Score: 3
Zombie Believability: The zombies in I Eat Your Skin are generally believable, because
rather than being flesh-hungry corpses that have been reanimated, they're just humans
who want to beat up other humans because their minds are being controlled by other,
different humans. We've all been in that situation, right?
The one thing that's weird about the zombies in this film is that for some reason, the
zombification process causes their eyes to bug out, so pretty much every zombie in I Eat
Your Skin looks completely shocked at all times. Maybe they are shocked, because
someone told them just how many virgins they're surrounded by? I have no idea, but it
seems plausible.
Score: 3
Zombie Attack Scenes: The sad truth is that I Eat Your Skin features almost as many
de-virgining scenes as it does zombie attack scenes. You have a couple of lamely
choreographed fights, a beach attack, a few instances of jungle groping (note: I'm referring
to zombies here, not the aforementioned de-virgining thing), and that's pretty much it. While
that is a low quotient of zombie attack scenes, I have to say that considering how
incompetently the zombie attack scenes that the film does have are handled, this is
probably for the best. Kudos to you, I Eat Your Skin, for knowing when to cut your losses.
Score: 2
rather than being flesh-hungry corpses that have been reanimated, they're just humans
who want to beat up other humans because their minds are being controlled by other,
different humans. We've all been in that situation, right?
The one thing that's weird about the zombies in this film is that for some reason, the
zombification process causes their eyes to bug out, so pretty much every zombie in I Eat
Your Skin looks completely shocked at all times. Maybe they are shocked, because
someone told them just how many virgins they're surrounded by? I have no idea, but it
seems plausible.
Score: 3
Zombie Attack Scenes: The sad truth is that I Eat Your Skin features almost as many
de-virgining scenes as it does zombie attack scenes. You have a couple of lamely
choreographed fights, a beach attack, a few instances of jungle groping (note: I'm referring
to zombies here, not the aforementioned de-virgining thing), and that's pretty much it. While
that is a low quotient of zombie attack scenes, I have to say that considering how
incompetently the zombie attack scenes that the film does have are handled, this is
probably for the best. Kudos to you, I Eat Your Skin, for knowing when to cut your losses.
Score: 2
Sidekick(s)/Love Interest: While by film's end Tom Harris is married to Jeannie Biladeau
(a lady whose virginity he successfully plucks about halfway through the movie), throughout
most of I Eat Your Skin, pretty much any lady that wanders on screen is a potential love
interest for him. Frankly, the numerous "hitting-on scenes" in this film are incredibly painful
to sit through. Basically, if you take every awful episode of Blind Date that you've ever seen,
increase the stiltedness and awkwardness by a factor of 1000, and then throw some
zombies into the mix, you have a general idea of what it's like to sit through these scenes.
Additionally, Tom Harris's constant hound-doggery is as worrisome as it is irritating, for this
simple reason: he gets laid so often, and he drinks so much booze, that you spend half the
film fearing that he might drop dead from dehydration before he ever gets around to
stopping the zombie menace. Zombie film viewers have enough to worry about as it
is--must they also be subjected to such emotional trauma? I don't think so.
Score: 3
Overall Cast: In the interests of time, let me be blunt: the cast of I Eat Your Skin are as
untalented as an untalented man operating an untalenting machine on International
Untalened Day.
Score: 1
(a lady whose virginity he successfully plucks about halfway through the movie), throughout
most of I Eat Your Skin, pretty much any lady that wanders on screen is a potential love
interest for him. Frankly, the numerous "hitting-on scenes" in this film are incredibly painful
to sit through. Basically, if you take every awful episode of Blind Date that you've ever seen,
increase the stiltedness and awkwardness by a factor of 1000, and then throw some
zombies into the mix, you have a general idea of what it's like to sit through these scenes.
Additionally, Tom Harris's constant hound-doggery is as worrisome as it is irritating, for this
simple reason: he gets laid so often, and he drinks so much booze, that you spend half the
film fearing that he might drop dead from dehydration before he ever gets around to
stopping the zombie menace. Zombie film viewers have enough to worry about as it
is--must they also be subjected to such emotional trauma? I don't think so.
Score: 3
Overall Cast: In the interests of time, let me be blunt: the cast of I Eat Your Skin are as
untalented as an untalented man operating an untalenting machine on International
Untalened Day.
Score: 1
