Here's an unassuming Australian-made horror-comedy, a hybrid of David Cronenberg's early 'biological mutation' movies and fellow antipodean Peter Jackson's comic gore fests.
Inhabitants of a tract-home development in suburban Melbourne are used in a controlled experiment by scientists at a trendy health resort (called Vimuville and built on a condemned toxic dump). Their revolutionary E-59 vitamin supplement is promised to create a "new you." Unfortunately the side effects are equally revolutionary -- recipients hallucinate, their bodies malfunction, glandular secretions get up and move around, and eventually they explode into colorful goo.
BODY MELT's episodic script plays down the ultra-gory possibilities of the situation, and takes occasionally funny stabs at suburbanites who will eat just about anything they get for free, and are otherwise oblivious to how they are exploited by government and industry.
In the film's most outrageous sequence, a pregnant Yuppie housewife dies when the fetus erupts from her womb, flies across the room, and slithers down the throat of its horrified father. But BODY MELT works best when it avoids spittle 'n grue and brushes with the nightmarish. For instance, there is a protracted but effective sequence of an infected businessman with a recurring hallucination, a female apparition who collects rib bones from men "just like him."
The humor is uneven but co-writer/director Philip Brophy exhibits a healthy distrust of white middle-class swank. There's a good "ear joke"; a police station awash in green vomit; liquid detergent guzzling; a chintzy Cronenberg-style TV commercial; a mutating ex-Vimuville scientist with moronic, Mongloid offspring, who keeps the antidote to E-59 a secret; and a pill-popping bodybuilder with an exploding penis! The cast, a contingent of Australian TV actors, is good, especially Suzi Dougherty as the rib-girl.
Inhabitants of a tract-home development in suburban Melbourne are used in a controlled experiment by scientists at a trendy health resort (called Vimuville and built on a condemned toxic dump). Their revolutionary E-59 vitamin supplement is promised to create a "new you." Unfortunately the side effects are equally revolutionary -- recipients hallucinate, their bodies malfunction, glandular secretions get up and move around, and eventually they explode into colorful goo.
BODY MELT's episodic script plays down the ultra-gory possibilities of the situation, and takes occasionally funny stabs at suburbanites who will eat just about anything they get for free, and are otherwise oblivious to how they are exploited by government and industry.
In the film's most outrageous sequence, a pregnant Yuppie housewife dies when the fetus erupts from her womb, flies across the room, and slithers down the throat of its horrified father. But BODY MELT works best when it avoids spittle 'n grue and brushes with the nightmarish. For instance, there is a protracted but effective sequence of an infected businessman with a recurring hallucination, a female apparition who collects rib bones from men "just like him."
The humor is uneven but co-writer/director Philip Brophy exhibits a healthy distrust of white middle-class swank. There's a good "ear joke"; a police station awash in green vomit; liquid detergent guzzling; a chintzy Cronenberg-style TV commercial; a mutating ex-Vimuville scientist with moronic, Mongloid offspring, who keeps the antidote to E-59 a secret; and a pill-popping bodybuilder with an exploding penis! The cast, a contingent of Australian TV actors, is good, especially Suzi Dougherty as the rib-girl.
