![a serbian film baby scene uncut a serbian film baby scene uncut](https://i.ytimg.com/vi/9CQ54AqTZTA/maxresdefault.jpg)
![a serbian film baby scene uncut a serbian film baby scene uncut](https://www.sickchirpse.com/wp-content/uploads/2020/12/A-Serbian-Film-1.jpg)
A family walks into a talent agent’s office and tells them that he just has to see their act, it’s phenomenal. There’s an old vaudeville joke that’s been passed down among comedians like a secret handshake. But quite literally the last scene lets you realize what you’ve just witnessed was an elaborate Serbian version of The Aristocrats. Most people will never reach that point, and god bless them and keep them because they are truly the better people. But the final moment of the film, the absolute last scene of the film, is the key to the movie. You will simply stop breathing, and maybe start to cry.Īnd you will wonder why the hell you are still there watching this putrid collection of disgusting acts. In 8MM, Nicolas Cage supposedly watched the most awful snuff film ever, squirming and overacting and moaning. It’s kind of the point of the film - but it’s still incredibly too much. While there is the most tenuous of justifications for why they go to where they go, they’ve gone too far. I never advocate censorship, but there are scenes no film should ever depict, and this film goes beyond even those. You cannot, nor should not, be able to handle this. Understand that I don’t say this as some sort of dare or you-can’t-handle-this taunt. Taboos are splattered against the walls in thick ropy streams. If it were simply pedophilia or sexual battery, it’d be easy to dismiss. Most viewers will never make it up until the finale, because there are scenes too putrid to even mention. Right up until the very last scene, I just kept asking myself why I was watching this. Milos replays the tiny digicam videotapes he finds strewn about which just become more horrific and unsettling, until he finally drops into a nadir that no one should ever have conceived. Waking up covered in blood three or four days later in his bed in an empty home, Milos searches frantically for answers. Milos spirals down and down until he goes through the fucking looking glass and into a Memento memento mori. From there, we watch as Milos wanders into his nightmare shoot, flanked by men who look like Slavic mercenaries but target him with digicams. Milos mustn’t know what’s going to happen in advance he’s only to receive instructions through an earbud. So he hires the down-and-out actor for a ridiculous amount of money to star in his avant-garde fuck-fest. Vukmir wants to create the ultimate artistic pornography - pornography that will change the world. The director, a man named Vukmir, admires both Milos’ canon and his cannon, if you know what I mean and I think you do. Torture porn is dead, and A Serbian Film raped its corpse.Ī retired porn star named Milos is convinced to take just one more gig, after he left the industry to be with his wife and son. And by pushing things that far, it completely and utterly eradicates the genre. It eats Irish torture porn babies like cubesteak. It punts torture porn into Friday of next week. It’s the ultimate torture porn - to the nth degree. It takes torture porn to places it never, ever should go. And the strangest part is … it’s brilliant. It takes any efforts to justify torture porn with flimsy psychological tripe and tears it like Edward Norton’s anus in American History X. In your darkest hours, in your sickest moments, you are like Ralph Wiggum to the minds behind this film. It makes Human Centipede look like a “Charlie Brown Christmas Special.” It will fucking break you. There will never ever be a more vile and disturbing sequence of events than you will see in this film. A Serbian Film has defeated you all by leaps and fucking bounds. Chaining her to a drainpipe and sandblasting off her boobies not good enough? Let’s fuck a wound! Not far enough? Does she even need to be alive? Let’s bone a corpse! Rock on, we’re rebels, let’s go get handjobs from suicide girls, yukka yukka yuk. It’s a deluded effort to trump each other with the most vulgar, depraved shit they could possibly think of in their darkest hours when the pretty girls won’t even talk to them. What’s grosser than gross? That seems to be the driving force behind most of the laughable direct-to-DVD horror films that plague Blockbuster. | Posted Under Twisted Masterpieces | Comments (156) For Torture Porn Filmmakers Who Considered Rape-icide When Hostel Didn't Go Far Enuf