Love Me Deadly
To a necrophile, an obituary is a personal ad.
Love Me Deadly is unique among exploitation films, being, as far as I know or care to, the first movie that centers around a female necrophile. Think of it as Bridget Jones's Diary, except Hugh Grant isn't charming and affable- he's dead. The back of the DVD classifies it as part exploitation shocker, part soap opera, leaving you to proportion out if this is more like a film adaptation of any given Cannibal Corpse song or Days of Our fucking Lives. Oh, and there's also a Super Seceret Necrophile Club with thier own subplot, because apparently a movie about just one necrophile isn't shocking enough. They're a bunch of fun, but I'll get to them when it's proper, because when you're reveiwing a movie about necrophilia, propritety matters.
The ... heroine ... ? of Love Me Deadly is Lindsay Finch, played by the stunningly beautiful Mary Wilcox, and if you haven't heard of Mary Wilcox, Love Me Deadly is probably why. It opens, of course, at a funeral, the most sedated funeral I've ever seen in a movie, almost as if no one wanted to be filmed at it once they looked up "necrophilia" in the DSM III. Lindsay, wearing a black dress with a peral neclace- I know she didn't get that from an exboyfreind- waits for the extras to file out and kisses the dead guy in the coffin. I might as well go ahead and make this point now: all the dead guys get the best parts in this movie. All they do is lay down and get kissed by Mary Wilcox.
But, I also wonder if some of the "corpses" in this movie are corpses, seeing as no actor would dead-end his career with Love Me Deadly on his resume. So the casting of the carcasses might have went like this:
"Damn it, That Guy died. We had him signed for three films and now he drops dead with only two. "
"Wel... I know about a movie called Love Me Deadly. He's been embalmbed, and we still have him under contract..."
Love Me Deadly is unique among exploitation films, being, as far as I know or care to, the first movie that centers around a female necrophile. Think of it as Bridget Jones's Diary, except Hugh Grant isn't charming and affable- he's dead. The back of the DVD classifies it as part exploitation shocker, part soap opera, leaving you to proportion out if this is more like a film adaptation of any given Cannibal Corpse song or Days of Our fucking Lives. Oh, and there's also a Super Seceret Necrophile Club with thier own subplot, because apparently a movie about just one necrophile isn't shocking enough. They're a bunch of fun, but I'll get to them when it's proper, because when you're reveiwing a movie about necrophilia, propritety matters.
The ... heroine ... ? of Love Me Deadly is Lindsay Finch, played by the stunningly beautiful Mary Wilcox, and if you haven't heard of Mary Wilcox, Love Me Deadly is probably why. It opens, of course, at a funeral, the most sedated funeral I've ever seen in a movie, almost as if no one wanted to be filmed at it once they looked up "necrophilia" in the DSM III. Lindsay, wearing a black dress with a peral neclace- I know she didn't get that from an exboyfreind- waits for the extras to file out and kisses the dead guy in the coffin. I might as well go ahead and make this point now: all the dead guys get the best parts in this movie. All they do is lay down and get kissed by Mary Wilcox.
But, I also wonder if some of the "corpses" in this movie are corpses, seeing as no actor would dead-end his career with Love Me Deadly on his resume. So the casting of the carcasses might have went like this:
"Damn it, That Guy died. We had him signed for three films and now he drops dead with only two. "
"Wel... I know about a movie called Love Me Deadly. He's been embalmbed, and we still have him under contract..."
The funeral director notices Lindsay kiss the deceased, and the look on his face says many things that wouldn't be there in a movie about anything other than necrophilia. I'm sure the actor was at least somewhat amazed someone got Wilcox in this movie, I'm amazed they got anyone, and doubly amazed someone got her to play the necrophile. The funeral director might be thinking "My, my. I've never seen a necrophile like that! Igor! Prepare my make-up and the Rolls Royce coffin. I'm going to play possum for some pussy!"
Lindsay throws a party after that, hosting hoards of handsome men with lots of booze, which is really clever since her dating life depends in no small part on drunk driving. Later she goes shopping for art, which is really all she does in this movie. Shop for paintings and sleep with dead dudes. She apparently inherited enough to live on from her dead father. Her dead father is a barrelful of bullshit I'll have to postpone for now.
For propriety's sake.
She goes to another funeral, but this time when she kisses the corpse his Play-Doh nose falls off. Yeah, well. That's what fucking happens when you confuse eHarmony with Rotten.com. This dead guy, like the first one, has brown hair and similar features to her father. Lindsay prefers corpses that look like her dead dad, and she must be the luckiest necrophile in history to have a serial killer in her neighborrhood whose only kills men who look that way.
The brother of the corpse pops in like a postmortem ejaculation and she looses her shit. Then he calms her down and she sees he looks remarkably like her dead father and decides to stalk him. Like I said, a barrellful of bullshit. She's not a good stalker by the way, but I suppose necrophiles in general don't have to stalk something that stays in one place permanently. Unless it's Jim Morrison.
If the brother of the corpse, Alex, had been a few seconds eariler with his cockblock from beyond the grave- "Still putting salt in my game bro!"- this movie would turn out much happier for him.
This movie has a pretty shallow plot, but I guess necrophiles like shallow plots.
The funeral director- there's apparently only one funeral home- figures out Lindsay's scheme and invities her to the Super Secret Necrophile club- because he's a necrophile too. I guess the extra love and care for the departed at Sunny Side Funeral Home put all the other funeral homes out of business.
Lindsay doesn't want in, but the funeral director leaves her his card. Later he mails her an invitation, brilliatly sending it UPS so Lindsay will have to sign for her Super Secret Invitation. The letter even has the funeral home's logo on it.
This funeral director, by the way, is quite the proactive necrophile. He picks up prostitutes- males and females- then kills two birds with one stone by embalming them to death. This must be extra work for the make-up artist, since being embalmed to death looks agonizing and they die screaming ... well, maybe they left the death-face on anyway. That would be three birds with one stone.
Lindsay throws a party after that, hosting hoards of handsome men with lots of booze, which is really clever since her dating life depends in no small part on drunk driving. Later she goes shopping for art, which is really all she does in this movie. Shop for paintings and sleep with dead dudes. She apparently inherited enough to live on from her dead father. Her dead father is a barrelful of bullshit I'll have to postpone for now.
For propriety's sake.
She goes to another funeral, but this time when she kisses the corpse his Play-Doh nose falls off. Yeah, well. That's what fucking happens when you confuse eHarmony with Rotten.com. This dead guy, like the first one, has brown hair and similar features to her father. Lindsay prefers corpses that look like her dead dad, and she must be the luckiest necrophile in history to have a serial killer in her neighborrhood whose only kills men who look that way.
The brother of the corpse pops in like a postmortem ejaculation and she looses her shit. Then he calms her down and she sees he looks remarkably like her dead father and decides to stalk him. Like I said, a barrellful of bullshit. She's not a good stalker by the way, but I suppose necrophiles in general don't have to stalk something that stays in one place permanently. Unless it's Jim Morrison.
If the brother of the corpse, Alex, had been a few seconds eariler with his cockblock from beyond the grave- "Still putting salt in my game bro!"- this movie would turn out much happier for him.
This movie has a pretty shallow plot, but I guess necrophiles like shallow plots.
The funeral director- there's apparently only one funeral home- figures out Lindsay's scheme and invities her to the Super Secret Necrophile club- because he's a necrophile too. I guess the extra love and care for the departed at Sunny Side Funeral Home put all the other funeral homes out of business.
Lindsay doesn't want in, but the funeral director leaves her his card. Later he mails her an invitation, brilliatly sending it UPS so Lindsay will have to sign for her Super Secret Invitation. The letter even has the funeral home's logo on it.
This funeral director, by the way, is quite the proactive necrophile. He picks up prostitutes- males and females- then kills two birds with one stone by embalming them to death. This must be extra work for the make-up artist, since being embalmed to death looks agonizing and they die screaming ... well, maybe they left the death-face on anyway. That would be three birds with one stone.
To make this review somewhat literary, according to Herodotus, the Egyptians would leave the corpses of beautiful women out in the sun for days before the embalmers worked on them. The same protocol should be used today, I think, with most spoiled pop singers.
Lindsay meanwhile dates Alex, and they get married. Necrophiles, ho hum, can marry, as long as she crosses her fingers when she vows "Till death do us part". Lindsay won't sleep with Alex, which makes her an idiot because she didn't have to marry him, even if he rejected her: all she has to do is outlive him, or anyone else she might want, because necrophiles are sexual scavengers and know virtually no competition. Except the Super Secret Necrophile Club, but trust me, they got thier own thing going on, so all she really did was limit her dating feild and tie herself down with a whiny husband.
And this guy is one long-suffering asshole. He puts up with Lindsay's shit- and necrophiles come with a lot of shit- and she won't sleep with him.
Divorce!
Lindsay eventually does go to the Super Secret Necrphile Club, but she's followed by a freind who goes into an embalming room (how serendipitous! ) where the embalmer stabs him with the corpse vacuum and he dies. People die rather quickly and conviently in this necrophile movie.
Being in the Super Secret Necrophile Club doesn't stop Lindsay from going to funerals, and Alex notices her in a procession and asks her about it. She just outright lies "I wasn't there" and he lets it drop. Either he's gay, or so stupid he might be sleeping with Lindsay a lot sooner than he thinks.
Divorce!
Lindsay goes to her father's grave wearing pigtails and has a tea party and sings a dumbass kid song. I'm not that talented. I can't make this shit up.
Lindsay meanwhile dates Alex, and they get married. Necrophiles, ho hum, can marry, as long as she crosses her fingers when she vows "Till death do us part". Lindsay won't sleep with Alex, which makes her an idiot because she didn't have to marry him, even if he rejected her: all she has to do is outlive him, or anyone else she might want, because necrophiles are sexual scavengers and know virtually no competition. Except the Super Secret Necrophile Club, but trust me, they got thier own thing going on, so all she really did was limit her dating feild and tie herself down with a whiny husband.
And this guy is one long-suffering asshole. He puts up with Lindsay's shit- and necrophiles come with a lot of shit- and she won't sleep with him.
Divorce!
Lindsay eventually does go to the Super Secret Necrphile Club, but she's followed by a freind who goes into an embalming room (how serendipitous! ) where the embalmer stabs him with the corpse vacuum and he dies. People die rather quickly and conviently in this necrophile movie.
Being in the Super Secret Necrophile Club doesn't stop Lindsay from going to funerals, and Alex notices her in a procession and asks her about it. She just outright lies "I wasn't there" and he lets it drop. Either he's gay, or so stupid he might be sleeping with Lindsay a lot sooner than he thinks.
Divorce!
Lindsay goes to her father's grave wearing pigtails and has a tea party and sings a dumbass kid song. I'm not that talented. I can't make this shit up.
Alex finds her there and she cusses him.
Divorce!
At some point Alex has to realize that Lindsay, even being the socializing art shopping bitch that she is, can't possibly know enough people to go to a funeral everyday, and he starts following her around. Since there's only one funeral home, he doesn't have to follow her long.
Now, Alex has to be suspecting Lindsay is cheating on him, either with the funeral director or some fucker with a kink for meeting up in a funeral home. But not in the darkest depths of his or any other hell would he ever figure out what's really going on. He was maybe thinking to himself, following Lindsay and renumerating over all her bullshit, "I don't know who she's cheating on me with, but he's a DEAD MAN!"
He goes inside the funeral home and finds Lindsay .... up to no good. The funeral director kills him and Lindsay gets the vapors. She wakes up and the funeral director tells her she can have Alex forever, since he embalmed him with some Miracle Potion, but Lindsay kills him with a lamp when he tries, inexplicably, to cut off Alex's finger.
Lindsay, it turns out, was playing with a gun and accidentally shot her dad in the face, which is why she's a necrophile. And also why she only sleeps with dudes who look like her dad. To me it makes no sense, but whatever. Everyone's happy at the end except Alex.
I suppose the Super Secret Necrophile Club moved on to greener graveyards.
Thank you so much for reading my pleasant wastes of time all these years.
Much love :)
Divorce!
At some point Alex has to realize that Lindsay, even being the socializing art shopping bitch that she is, can't possibly know enough people to go to a funeral everyday, and he starts following her around. Since there's only one funeral home, he doesn't have to follow her long.
Now, Alex has to be suspecting Lindsay is cheating on him, either with the funeral director or some fucker with a kink for meeting up in a funeral home. But not in the darkest depths of his or any other hell would he ever figure out what's really going on. He was maybe thinking to himself, following Lindsay and renumerating over all her bullshit, "I don't know who she's cheating on me with, but he's a DEAD MAN!"
He goes inside the funeral home and finds Lindsay .... up to no good. The funeral director kills him and Lindsay gets the vapors. She wakes up and the funeral director tells her she can have Alex forever, since he embalmed him with some Miracle Potion, but Lindsay kills him with a lamp when he tries, inexplicably, to cut off Alex's finger.
Lindsay, it turns out, was playing with a gun and accidentally shot her dad in the face, which is why she's a necrophile. And also why she only sleeps with dudes who look like her dad. To me it makes no sense, but whatever. Everyone's happy at the end except Alex.
I suppose the Super Secret Necrophile Club moved on to greener graveyards.
Thank you so much for reading my pleasant wastes of time all these years.
Much love :)