Pieces (Mil gritos tiene la noche) (1982)

Pieces... It's exactly what you think it is!
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Pieces (Mil gritos tiene la noche) - You Don't Have To Go To Texas For A Chainsaw Massacre!

With a copious amount of blood-painted axe murderousness at the hands of a young boy defending his naked lady jigsaw before the opening credits you almost guarantee Juan Piquer Simón's Pieces (Mil gritos tiene la noche) will get a positive review here. Throw in an abundance of bra-challenged eighties university student ladies sporting big hair, big thighs and tight short-shorts then you probably realise that there may be some optimistic bias in the next few paragraphs. Add to this disharmony some nerds, disco music, numerous dubious characters and a chainsaw wielding maniac hell-bent on collecting body parts then you have a gold medal winning bloodbath with extra credits for trashiness and sleaze.

Picture a time in the past where the only difference between dweebs and jocks were glasses, all nubile women had the sexual appetite of celebrities struggling with the serious condition of being able to afford sex-addiction as an excuse, distinguished members of society were always dubbed with received pronunciation accents to add some linguistic prestige, cops always spoke in a New York accent and rules of etiquette stated that everybody must pause between sentences to ensure that the other person had really finished. Archaeologists estimate this era to be 1982 and this is the perfect setting for a macabre blood bath that makes May Dove Canady's exploits seem like a day in the park for a claustrophobic.

The blood shedding and abundant body part coverage is top notch with some nice on screen death/mutilation and the added bonus of a detailed look at the aftermath achieved with the reality of animal guts and numerous other non-CGI techniques. No vermillion is spared as the sets and cast are decorated with chainsaw carnage from numerous beauties with a clothing allergy. The majority of demises are caused with a chainsaw but the killer has a purpose and this results in a variety of laceration techniques to keep the interest of the viewer.

In 1942, a time when the world was an innocent place and the thought of a jigsaw puzzle displaying boobs and bush was enough to send any mother into an abusive rage when finding her young son in the possession of such filth, a young boy and his puzzle end up in an axe frenzy of blood and parenticide. Cunningly, the murderous young boy finishes his puzzle, hides himself in a cupboard and blames nasty masked intruders when the police arrive. Thanks to his quick thinking and complete lack of a remorse gene the cute little blood splattered cherub gets to live with his Auntie.

Forty years later the world was still unaware that all variety of pornography would soon be available at the click of a casino advert and a certain person is still obsessed with a certain grubby jigsaw puzzle. Without the release that can be provided by exposing yourself on chat roulette, the troubled masturbator decides that the next logical porn high is to create a replica of the lustworthy object of his desires from the body parts of various ripened female university students. With the aid of his trusty chainsaw and his "The Shadow" disguise the problematic pervert begins the creation of his human puzzle.

But who can expose the antagonist? This looks like a job for the university stud, a Brooklynese cop and an undercover tennis icon. With the help of the guy back in the office, the three attempt to stop the grisly murders while being aware that there is always the possibility of a random ninja attack.

Another common practise within this genre of movie is to take a convincing premise then blow it out of the window in the final scene. This worked with Maniac but didn't work with Macabre... unfortunately it doesn't work here either and leaves you wondering why directors feel the need to jump on this bandwagon. This quite clearly shows the origins of the "Is the bad guy really dead?" ending that is so rampant in so many modern slashers although back in these movies it was more of an attempt at a final scare rather than creating openness for a sequel.

If you are looking for Oscar winning performances, breath-taking explosion special effects and a provoking storyline that inspires thought-filled brain-meanderings after the event then Pieces is not the place to look. If you are looking for bad-dubbing (unless you see the subtitled version), hammy acting and a profusion of blood, guts and boobies with eighties softcore porno undertones then Pieces welcomes you with severed open arms. This is sleazy trash... and a beautiful work of sleazy trash which puts numerous Slashers/Giallo of the era to shame.
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Categories: Slasher Movies

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