Rob Schmadtke (Daktari Lorenz) is part of a clean-up team that removes dead bodies from public areas. Mixing work with play, Rob, a necrophiliac, occasionally manages to pocket random body parts, which he takes home to share with his equally twisted girlfriend Betty (Beatrice Manowski). When given the responsibility of disposing of a whole, decomposing corpse, Rob seizes the opportunity of a lifetime, taking the body home to use as a sexual plaything.
It's been over 25 years since I first saw Nekromantik—a dodgy nth generation bootleg VHS with no subs given to me by a friend with the same dubious taste in film—but even though I've seen a lot of extreme cinema since, Jörg Buttgereit's transgressive classick of German underground horror has lost none of its power to shock.
Dealing with the extremely iffy subject of necrophilia, with all the yucky, oozing, slime and bodily fluids that go with it, Buttgereit's film is still difficult to stomach despite a streak of dark humour running through proceedings. As if the nauseating sight of someone getting busy with a putrefying corpse isn't bad enough, the film also throws in a spot of animal death (both fake and real), full frontal male nudity, some random urination, the murder and rape of a prostitute (in that order!), a wonderfully bloody decapitation by shovel, and a final scene that has to rank as one of the most unforgettably repulsive acts ever committed to film.
Technically speaking, Buttgereit's film is a little rough around the edges, but he tells his tale with confidence, even experimenting with some artsy-fartsy visual effects during a love scene between Betty and the body, and throwing in a hilarious dream sequence that is reminiscent of avant-garde French cinema, albeit with a severed head and gut slinging. Nekromantik also benefits immensely from a surprisingly good score by Daktari Lorenz, Hermann Kopp and John Boy Walton which lends certain scenes a strange sense of beauty despite the repugnant visuals.
Needless to say, this isn't a film to share with the whole family (unless your family happens to have furniture made from human bones and an extra large freezer out back, in which case, share away); on the other hand, fans of low budget German splatter, extreme horror, or transgressive cinema in general should consider the film essential viewing.
It's been over 25 years since I first saw Nekromantik—a dodgy nth generation bootleg VHS with no subs given to me by a friend with the same dubious taste in film—but even though I've seen a lot of extreme cinema since, Jörg Buttgereit's transgressive classick of German underground horror has lost none of its power to shock.
Dealing with the extremely iffy subject of necrophilia, with all the yucky, oozing, slime and bodily fluids that go with it, Buttgereit's film is still difficult to stomach despite a streak of dark humour running through proceedings. As if the nauseating sight of someone getting busy with a putrefying corpse isn't bad enough, the film also throws in a spot of animal death (both fake and real), full frontal male nudity, some random urination, the murder and rape of a prostitute (in that order!), a wonderfully bloody decapitation by shovel, and a final scene that has to rank as one of the most unforgettably repulsive acts ever committed to film.
Technically speaking, Buttgereit's film is a little rough around the edges, but he tells his tale with confidence, even experimenting with some artsy-fartsy visual effects during a love scene between Betty and the body, and throwing in a hilarious dream sequence that is reminiscent of avant-garde French cinema, albeit with a severed head and gut slinging. Nekromantik also benefits immensely from a surprisingly good score by Daktari Lorenz, Hermann Kopp and John Boy Walton which lends certain scenes a strange sense of beauty despite the repugnant visuals.
Needless to say, this isn't a film to share with the whole family (unless your family happens to have furniture made from human bones and an extra large freezer out back, in which case, share away); on the other hand, fans of low budget German splatter, extreme horror, or transgressive cinema in general should consider the film essential viewing.