Despite the infamous attitude and ego, Glenn Danzig has always stayed true to himself and his artistic vision. Never once in his 40-year career has he caved to what an executive or producer has said. Be it music, merchandise, or marketing; If it doesn’t adhere to what he has pictured in his head, it’s just not happening. When word got out Danzig was going to make his directorial debut with an anthology film adaption of his comic series, fans already knew Verotika was going to be a sight to behold. One in which only Glenn Danzig could offer.
Standing on stage in his signature biker jacket, Danzig introduced Verotika to the Cinepocalypse audience by talking about the sentimentality he has for old school horror movies.
“When me and my friends would go see horror movies in the 70s and 80s, we’d laugh when people were killed! People would move away from us.” Danzig laughed.
It was nice to see him talk about something close to him so candidly. By his demeanor it obvious how much this movie, and the horror genre means to him. I could be wrong, but I think I heard a bit of a nervous tremble in his voice. Of course, Glenn Danzig doesn’t care what anyone thinks. But at the end of the day, a film screening is an artist putting himself out there at the mercy of the audience.
Verotika is made up of three stories, The Albino Spider of Dajette, Change Of Face, and Drukija Contessa of Blood.
All strung together with intros by the scantily clad Morella (played perfectly by Kayden Kross). Just like the comic series the film is based upon, each story has its own specific vibe and pacing.
The Albino Spider of Dajette tells the story of a French sex worker named Dajette with eyes for nipples (the first wtf moment of Verotika). After a date gone wrong, her tears fall upon an albino house spider who then grows into a humanoid monster. The man-spider then proceeds to torment Dajette by killing each of her friends every time she falls asleep.
This segment is essentially a fever dream that needs to be seen to be believed!
Change of Face is a goth-noir tale of a disfigured stripper aptly called Mystery Girl who goes around removing the faces from other gorgeous women, then nailing them to a wall in her lair for no rhyme or reason. Hot on her trail is an unintentionally hilarious cop bent on stopping her at all costs. Nothing too shocking happens in this story but the runtime is padded by multiple strip-club routines. (One in particular set to “Eyes Ripping Fire”, my personal favorite track on Danzig’s most recent record Black Laden Crown.)
The third and final story is Drukija Contessa of Blood, a Hammer-esque reimagining of Countess Bathory (a Hungarian serial killer who allegedly bathed in the blood of virgins to retain her youthful appearance). While not the scariest of the segments, Drukija Contessa of Blood features the most gore. Throats are slashed, wrists drained, heads decapitated, and even an awkwardly long sequence where a naked girl’s still-beating heart is pulled from her chest.
While the synopsis of each story is serviceable, when compared to most indie horror films, the execution sadly isn’t.
The acting is horrendous, dialog laughable, and editing non-existent. There are times when actors stare blankly at each other as if waiting for the director to yell “Cut!”, while other scenes abruptly fade to black before any tension is built. After the initial wtf? shock wears off during the first five minutes, the screening audience laughed uncontrollably every 5 minutes. Remember, this isn’t a comedy.
This doesn’t make Verotika a complete wash though. There are still a few bright spots throughout the film.
Despite all the problems with the execution, Verotika delivers everything a Danzig fan would expect. The original score is phenomenal as well as the source music. The special effects are entirely practical from the humanoid spider to the decapitations, something sorely missed in modern cinema. The gratuitous nudity is surprisingly tasteful and never feels like you’re a kid watching Cinemax at two in the morning.
After the curtain dropped, Danzig came back out on the stage for a Q&A panel with Cinepocalypse. There he talked about the making of the film from start to finish. He pointed out homages to Mario Bava and Lucio Fulci, the French metal bands used in the Change of Face segment as well as his struggles with lack of budget.
But something else clicked while watching Danzig talk about this film: his passion for wanting to create something free from mainstream influence.
“This isn’t some Marvel movie that’s gonna make a kabillion dollars in its opening weekend! Do you think they’d ever let me direct something like that? Get outta here!” Danzig laughed as he talked about the struggles of making an indie film.
Despite the struggles, inexperience, and lack of Hollywood budget, the film still turned out the way he wanted it. In a time when even YouTube videos are subject to media influence, that’s something to brag about regardless of how Vertotika is viewed.
When asked about the tone of the film, Danzig looked into the audience and said: “You guys laughed at the stuff I wouldn’t have laughed at, but that’s cool!”. Once again showing a not-often-seen vulnerability letting the audience know he’s far more self-aware than we probably realize.
Similar to the cult status The Room has received over the past decade, I see Verotika living a long fruitful life in genre film festivals and indie screenings.
Audiences will wince in awkwardness and laugh at the porn-like acting. But above everything else, they will no doubt have a good time. It may not be what Glenn Danzig set out to do with his directorial debut, but it’s something any director would hope to achieve at the helm of their very first feature film.
When you want to put yourself out there with a song, album, comic, or movie, you’re entitled to your vision. Not everyone will like it but at least you can say you did it on your own. Glenn Danzig never compromises his vision for the sake of validation, and just like his music in The Misfits, Samhain, and Danzig, Verotika is a testament to staying true to one’s self.