PopHorror Let's Get Scared
NOTE: This story was published during the 2023 WGA and SAG-AFTRA strikes. Without the labor of the writers and actors currently on strike, the films being covered here wouldn’t exist. PopHorror fully supports the WGA and SAG-AFTRA and their efforts.
Synopsis:
Carlos “El Gato” is a serial rapist who’s condemned to the electric chair. Immediately after his electrocution, he makes a deal with Satan and gets resurrected. Carlos begins raping and killing in the name of the devil.
I’ll be the first to admit: I know very little about Mexican cinema and even less about Mexican exploitation cinema, so when a title from the good people at Vinegar Syndrome called Infernal Rapist made it way to me, my first reaction was: WTF?
A film co-directed by Damien Acosta Esparza (Mi Venganza) and Jose Medina (Sotana Roja), Infernal Rapist tells the sordid tale of Carlos (Noe Murayama: Guns For San Sebastian), or “El Gato” to his enemies, a middle-aged rapist on death row who, after a pretty implausible execution scene, is visited by… Satan? Or just an evil supreme being? It’s never spelled out very clearly (I blame the subtitle translation).
Anyway, for arguments sake, let’s call her Satan… So, Satan (Princess Lea: Intrepidos Punks – and don’t get me started on that particular stage name…) pops in all dressed for an apparent Glamor Shots session, along with a few similarly dressed minions (demons?) and a proposition for ol’ Carlos: worship her, and he’ll live on, free to rape, party, and do as many drugs as possible. That’s it—just worship her. Oh, and there’s a nasty little business about carving “666” on his victims, but really, that’s just the demonic equivalent of the fine print isn’t it?
Carlos soon enjoys a life of Scarface-like opulence, all the while raping, murdering, and partying with his victims. Guys and girls alike, especially if they work at a certain salon/massage parlor, are no match for Carlos’ raging libido, and his cup truly runneth over with copious amounts of booze, weed, cocaine, heroin and a teensy bit of necrophilia thrown in for good measure.
Rape as a plot device was pretty common in the 1970s: I Spit On Your Grave, Ms. 45, Death Wish, etc. But thankfully, it had mostly petered out by the dawn of the ’80s (except for anomalies like The Beast Within, with that bizarre “Cicada-man” rape scene…). To wrap the entire plot of a film in rape, make the protagonist a rapist, and then use the word “rape” in the title… in 1988.
What we have for 75% or so of Infernal Rapist is a pretty low rent version of most standard ’70s exploitation films of this ilk. Murayama lacks any kind of real menace in this role to ratchet up the “creep” factor. The effects are laughable at best, and Satan’s appearances are overwrought and ineffective. The film also suffers from wildly out of place musical cues, absurd set pieces, and scenes that go on too long—kind of like Jean Rollin, only worse, and completely artless. Even the gratuitous nudity seems out of place… these aren’t the nubile twenty-somethings normally featured in films like this.
Then, as if the filmmakers suddenly watched the dailies and were like, “Holy shit! This movie is going nowhere fast!” the last 25% of Infernal Rapist is a truly disturbing watch. The violence escalates, the movie takes a seriously sinister, abrupt turn in tone, and Murayama wakes up to his role in as much as it seems like you’re watching a snuff film. If the entire film was like this, it would be one of those underground favorites you always hear so much about. But no, they really missed the mark here.
Disturbing, cheap, reprehensible, offensive as fuck, and inconsistent as all get out, Infernal Rapist is a weird beast. If you’re a fan of this type of exploitation film, or just morbidly curious about Mexican cinema of the period, check it out. If you can make it through the first ¾ of the film, there’s a certain payoff. You may wanna wash your eyeballs afterwards, though.
WTF, dear readers. WTF indeed…
Infernal Rapist, with all the bells and whistles, is available from Vinegar Syndrome on Blu-ray from various retailers.
