Night of the Sorcerer Review

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Dr. David Livingstone. Ruggero Deodato. Russ Meyer. Robert Vincent O’Neill. Edgar Rice Burroughs. Damballah Wedo.

Now, if you will, imagine those above-mentioned dudes all having a collective wet dream, and you’ll come up with something like Spanish director Amando de Ossorio’s low, low budget Night of the Sorcerer (1973). Basically, it’s all about tribal voodoo, jungle rhythms, and bare boobies.

This corny-cool sexploitation horror flick is a must-have for almost any boy’s permanent library: It not only features some of the most gorgeous-looking, naturally-endowed swinging-70s actresses you can imagine (sorry, ladies… nothing even remotely interesting for us when it came to casting the male leads), but there are also beheadings galore, some totally awesome African leopard puppets, and vampiresses dirty dancing in slo-mo!

The movie opens on a years gone by flashback, with an uproariously exploitive scene of a white captive tied spread-eagled between two trees, being vigorously lashed with a wickedly snapping whip till every last stitch of her clothing falls away. A grooving native tribe known as The Leopard People chants a spell as she screams and cries. Long shots are intercut with extreme close-ups of her tear-stained face, getting the viewer primed for the kitschy and kinky visual style that’s to follow.

The victim — once beheaded, then re-headed — is magically transformed into a funkily-fanged, super-shapely bloodsucker who has an insatiable craving for explorers. Fast forward. (Not you: The filmmakers do it.) Now, we’re in modern times, and a handful of male and female wildlife preservationists head into the dark heart of the jungle to take pictures, pitch tents, and get naked.

Now, don’t get too excited. Night of the Sorcerer can be downright boring at times — I even nodded off, once or twice. But I must say, it’s an exploitation/sexploitation flick with some genuine grindhouse cred augmented by thrift-store caliber costuming, super-schlocky day-for-night scenes, dire dubbing, a Deep Throat-meets-Tarzan soundtrack, and an IQ-reducing plot.

It’s bad. But so bad, it’s ghoulishly good.

The DVD contains a few extras, the most baffling of which has “alternate clothed scenes.”

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