Sexy model Manila (Manila May) is brutally assaulted by a pair of vicious slime-balls who abduct women to work in their prostitution ring. More than just a little off her rocker, Manila seeks revenge by murdering her attacker's whores, and then dons PVC hot-pants and hooker heels to teach the men an even harsher lesson.
As I type this, exploitation fans worldwide are mourning the loss of cult Spanish director Jess Franco, who devoted his life to creating cinematic sleaze; Franco's spirit lives on, however, in Andreas Bethmann, a man who also understands the artistic merit of a crotch shot, the allure of extreme misogyny, the appeal of sadism and the importance of gore, and who doesn't let a lack of technical prowess stop him from doing what he loves most—capturing as much of it on film as he possibly can.
Der Todesengel, one of Bethmann's earlier films, doesn't stray quite as far into XXX territory as some of his later work, but it's still 'hardcore', capturing moments of deviancy guaranteed to disturb all but the most desensitised of viewers. Rape, torture, and murder are the film's main selling points, with the dubious highlights including an emasculation via blow-job (bad guys never learn), Manila pleasuring herself with a decapitated head, the old 'pole up the hoo-ha and out the mouth' routine, and a gunshot in the 'holiest of holies' that erupts out of the skull.
It's clumsily directed, the acting is lousy (Manila May IS a porn star, after all), and most of the splatter is inept, but it's performed with such enthusiasm by its carefree cast of reprobates that one can't help but admire it just a little.
A little.
