Review: Cannibal Apocalypse (1980)
(aka Apocalypse Domani, Cannibals in the Streets, Invasion of the Flesh Hunters)
Directed by: Antonio Margheriti (as Anthony M. Dawson)
Starring: John Saxon, Elizabeth Turner, Giovanni Lombardo Radice (as John Morghen)
Written by: Antonio Margheriti (as Anthony M. Dawson), Dardano Sacchetti (as Jimmy Gould)
Music by: Alexander Blonksteiner
Country: Italy, United States
Available on: Blu-ray/DVD (Kino Lorber)
IMDb
Antonio Margheriti, aka Anthony M. Dawson, was a prominent director in the Italian genre scene of the ‘60s, ‘70s, and ‘80s, but Cannibal Apocalypse was his only time wading into the profitable waters of the cannibal cycle. Thankfully he did because this is one of the most original to emerge from Italy. Cannibal Apocalypse briefly spends some time in the jungle — as you’re contractually required to when making a flick of this sort — where a U.S. Vietnam War soldier named Hopper (John Saxon) stumbles on some of his squad that have been captured by the Vietcong and exposed to a virus that makes them crave human flesh. Skip forward a bit and over to Atlanta, and Hopper’s suddenly having nightmares of being bitten by one of the POWs, Bukowski (Giovanni Lombardo Radice). Bukowski calls Hopper out of the blue to meet up, setting in motion some cannibal nastiness.
Margheriti’s interpretation of the subgenre takes a few major diversions from its contemporaries. Most of the film occurs in the concrete jungles of urban Georgia instead of a tropical forest, trading natural eye candy for grit and grime, and Margheriti chooses not to exploit a “primitive” tribe of “savages” as his flesh-eaters. His cannibals are mostly white Americans (though it’s hinted that the virus is of Vietnamese origin, so this thing’s not exactly devoid of racism). And, to the relief of sane folks, there are no animal deaths of any kind. There’s a bit more of a story here than you typically find in cannibal movies, but that doesn’t mean it’s especially plot-thick. A huge chunk of the runtime is focused on two action sequences: a 30-minute shootout in a flea market near the beginning and the climactic sewer chase. But things move along briskly, with shit hitting the proverbial fan often, usually accompanied by frequently inappropriate bursts of funky-ass jazz and powered by solid work from Saxon and Radice, the preeminent scumbag in Italian horror flicks whose scowling and batshit eye-fucking are present and accounted for. The flick is a little stingy with the gore, but when it hits, it knocks out a huge bloody hole in someone’s penile region. And, for a movie about cannibals, there is very little sloppy, rabid mastication of human carcasses.
For obsessives seeking jungle treks, dark-skinned indigenous people slathered in chalky makeup and slurping on intestines and livers, the murder of exotic fauna, and superficial pontifications on the evils of the white man’s burden, Cannibal Apocalypse isn’t your best bet. It checks some of the subgenre’s boxes, such as its huge bummer of an ending that ensures you’re left feeling soul-sick, but trudges a relatively unique path as a brash urban actioner with horror undertones that lifts it above the fray of its countless ilk.
