This is the only recent Paul Naschy film I have viewed (the credit sequence resolves itself in a succession of snapshots showing him made-up for his earlier pictures); to a large extent, it seems to have been enthusiastically received by fans and I liked it quite a bit myself (albeit with some reservations I will get to later). We have here an intriguing premise with the star (as always penning the script himself) ideally cast as a has-been thespian in search of work but clearly out-of-touch with the times; in fact, he is reduced to accepting "humiliating" odd-jobs such as doorman (under the guise of many a notorious historical figure) to a stag club owned by one Reficul (try reading that backwards) or directing snuff movies and, in the very opening scene, hilariously claims to get his sexual kicks nowadays by stuffing a rat enclosed in a condom through his rectum! Eventually, Naschy snaps and goes on a killing spree, targeting people from the industry who had either snubbed him or whom he believes forsake art for commerce; in this respect, Reficul's gift of a cane concealing a Japanese rapier inside comes in mighty handy! Unfortunately, the plot during the latter stages becomes increasingly muddled: Naschy finds out about his boss' identity (his transsexual assistant, then, is really Beelzebub!), with the latter explaining to him that with the signed contract he had given away his soul; cornered by the Police, he is shot and presumably killed; cut to a "Murillo" awards ceremony with the winner emerging to be a candidate whose seat is presently vacant
but then he turns up, at first with his back to the camera, and ultimately revealed to be an aged Naschy under a different name (apparently, he survived and has had a career renaissance in the interim – his talents vindicated at long last – thanks to the Devil's doing)! Typical of today's horror cinema, we get a flat-ugly look which does the film no favors at all – not to mention flashy technique (believing this is enough to give the whole a semblance of style but actually rendering it somewhat amateurish!) and copious gore (including a particularly repellent dismemberment). A mixed bag, then, but Naschy's weathered features, sensitive performance and knowing critique of the profession – plus a decent score – are enough to redress the balance and make the ride worthwhile for seasoned genre fans.
