BAG BOY LOVER BOY (REVIEW)

Dir. Andres Torres

Reviewer. Martyn Wakefield

A slice of sleaze in New York with the same vibes that the 70s gave the big apple. Low lives, poverty, desperation and sheer degradation of society as a whole is as prevalent today as it was back then and BAG BOY LOVER BOY not only captures some of the genres dirtiest works, it adds itself to their library as one of the best.

An oddball hot-dog vendor is shocked to find himself becoming an enigmatic photographer's muse, and he finds out how difficult it is to succeed in the art world. Rest assured, the teacher is just taking advantage of one of society's abandonments and as Albert desires to learn more about something he's interested in, the world simply mocks him to the point where he thinks well intent is an excuse for murder.

Much akin to the likes of THE NEW YORK RIPPER, TORSO and THE LAST HOUSE IN THE LEFT, this is exploitation cinema at its finest.

The lack of compassion or even the realisation of his actions leaves Albert as a memorable monster and somehow becomes sympathetic in his quest to become a photographer. That doesn't hide away the severity of his actions and there is no masking the depths director Andres Torres is willing to go down even at one point slyly mirroring the events of Sweeney Todd.

With necrophilia, brazen misogynism, poverty porn and a lack of empathy for anyone surviving on the bottom of the scrapheap, BAG BOY LOVER BOY is a near perfect realisation of why horror is such a great genre. For voyeurism as well as education and while maybe not through intent but such a film shouldn't work in the 21st century, yet holds a beacon up for the genre as well as independent cinema. It's dark, nasty, unsanitary and unfiltered, you'll need a good wash afterward but Jörg Buttgereit would be proud.