All Hail the Tainted Pork: Pig Death Machine
The words gritty, blaring, and barely legal come to mind when thinking of the new Jon Moritsugu and Amy Davis film. Pig Death Machine has earned the 2013 “Lifetime Achievement Award” from the Chicago Underground Film Festival, and other praises from just about anywhere throughout the nation.
Jon Moritsugu and Amy Davis collaborate again for a film whose plot is simple enough to follow with questionable concern, but jolting with explosive recalls to the oddity of its existence. Lipton (played by Hannah Levbarg of the band Venus Bogardus) is a lonely botanist who can not seem to find happiness, and Cocojoy (played by Amy Davis who serves as co-writer) is the daft pretty girl who can not seem to find intelligence. They, by chance, eat some tainted pork and Lipton gains the ability to talk with plants while Cocojoy’s IQ more than doubles. Once they realize that the tainted pork is the reason behind this phenomena they must have more. However, they soon realize that tainted pork can not make you whole.
This transgressive low-budget eerie comedy held the essence of a John Waters like cult film by providing us with dry shock value and intensity from the get go. The first seven minutes of the film gave me a guilty smile as I watched in awe at the gross out scene taking place on a camera that was most likely found in an old box in the attic. It felt like the early 80s were surrounding me and I couldn’t shake that feeling until the credits began to roll. Pig Death Machine calls attention to itself in a way that reminds us that although they may not be rooted in reality, we still are. That’s reassuring to know with a film that knows its being disturbing, and likes it. This incredibly informal way of filmmaking has found its niche in film society and this film tells me that they do not plan to go anywhere.
The catalyst for this movement was completely based off of the fact that they were doing things differently and they could care less what you thought of their art. It’s not surprising to see this fad die down within recent years though. The independent circuit is in another world compared to what it was in the seventies and eighties when cult films such as Pink Flamingos began popping up in coffee houses. That is what kept me in tune with their idea. I wanted to look away (believe me, I really did), but the film makers took such an authentic approach to the craft that I could not help but respect what Moritsugu and Davis put together. Following Lipton as she began talking, or rather listening, to her plants complain about their needs strangely reminded of Little Shop of Horrors. A plant relying on its owner to give it human blood to live. For its time, Little Shop of Horrors and the idea of a man eating plant was absurd. Except in the case of Pig Death Machine, the plants just want normal things such as sunlight, water, and care. The absurdity comes from elsewhere.
Cocojoy’s new found IQ boost puts her at odds with her sleazy know-it-all boyfriend, Milkbone (played hilariously by Victor of Aquitaine). Cocojoy may have become incredibly smart, but the tainted pork sadly did not give her the common sense she needed as well to balance it out. Meanwhile, Lipton may be able to hear her beautiful plants speak, but they will not shut up. They keep her busy constantly by taking care of them; causing her stress level to skyrocket. By the time Cocojoy realizes that she can not maintain the lifestyle of the astute, we see that she has already done incredibly idiotic things to keep herself ticking. One such thing is eating tainted pork twice to keep the juices flowing! Speaking of eating tainted pork twice, Lipton, who just wanted solace in her plants can not handle the stress of being their psychiatrist and doctor. Luckily, by the 80th minute (you did not expect it to be that long did you?) both girls accepted their limitations and finally realized the tainted pork was just causing problems… as tainted pork usually does.
Digressing from the story, I was impressed by the cinematic techniques imposed by Moritsugu. The constant red reminder of reality that only we got the pleasure of seeing and hearing kept me nervous throughout. Red could be the perfect color to symbolize change or regression. Moritsugu made sure the relapse was embedded into our skulls. What is obvious to us from the start is invisible to the actors on screen. Cocojoy’s hair slowly turned from dirty blonde to a dull gray as her arc lengthened to give us a good go to point of where her state of mind was. Of course the green that surrounds, Tipton in her plants, hair, and lifestyle is going to be played throughout. The use of color to stimulate this story is something rarely done effectively in a film of this low grade. The tainted pork, while a cruel conductor for signaling change served its purpose of keeping me aware of the morality of the situation. I knew what these girls were doing was wrong, but they did not have the overlapping bacteria in a Petri dish to show them right from wrong.
If you plan on watching this movie, or any other Jon Moritsugu film, understand that the experience you will have may not be a positive one, but it will be a new one. For some people that is enough to satisfy their cinematic needs. I would say the majority of people upon watching Pig Death Machine will look at this film in remorse for ever turning it on, but if you give it a chance you will clearly see some choice decisions by the filmmaker that lets us understand Moritsugu knows exactly what he is doing.
