The Junta, or the Horrors of Our Town After Sadomaster was killed fighting the mad General Noriega, and the latter was successfully defeated, the world and a single Argentine town could breathe calmly. However, this pacification was temporary and so short-lived, sudden and deceptive, that everything that had happened before just seemed like a dream - a nightmare in its peculiar surrealism. Scientists resurrected General Noriega from the dead, turning him into a misanthropic cyborg, honoring the swastika and everything that lies in its philosophical basis as an icon for his sick artificial mind. However, Sadommaster is destined to return from the dead.
Speaking about the sequel to the Argentine thrash horror Sadomister, shot in 2005 by the leading Argentine grindhouse businessman Herman Magarinhos, released six years later and subtitled Mad General, it is extremely difficult to get rid of the idea that this picture seems to be trying to surpass all existing norms and principles even in such unprincipled art of independent cinema as microbudget guignoli, where form and content are always equally worth each other. Having further strengthened on the semantic level the animal resemblance to the Toxic Avenger and Ilza, Sadomaster: Mad General, unlike the original picture, already operates not with satirical film forms, read from the surface literally immediately, but with sophisticated plot twists, bringing to a total degree of absurdity everything that happens in the second film.
This time, the director is not discharged with spectacular attacks on the strange and terrible political reality that exists around him, preferring first of all to speculate and exploit, without thinking about anything at all and completely counting on nothing but the final state of affect in those viewers who will be able to digest this eclectic and epileptic cinnabar from pseudo-scientific fiction, a pedicated thriller and an ultra-meat action movie, revelling almost in the final state of affection in its animalistic essence. However, the balance between genres in the second film is broken minimally, since the director carries like Ostap exclusively on the waves of anarchist grindhouse. Having had time to say enough about the soreness in the first Sadomaster, in the second Herman Magarinhos, who acted in the guise of the only and unique at the director's helm (as you know, the first picture was created with the direct participation of Fernando Gianjacomo, who lit up in another cult of Argentine thrash, the trilogy "Zombie Plague"), and therefore achieved even greater intre, sometimes bordering on the "Mad General" with inexpressible author's audacity.
Magarinhos is not at all confused by the important fact that he overloads the content with such a set of filia, which in the end becomes not funny, but scary. Inadvertently, the film, in which people, horses, robots, gays, zoophiles and pedophiles, fascists and antifa, sinister doctors, matrix doppelgangers, the classical junta and the neoclassical motif of righteous retribution from the other world are mixed into one dung pile, begins to shine a kitschy silver husk of symptomatic in this case allegoricality, smeared with bitter honey of universal at the level of society of oligophrenia. The film against the backdrop of a real mad, insane, insane world lying outside the cinema and that poisonous universe created by the director himself is sometimes tasteless, sometimes unsophisticated, but sometimes extremely apt and caustic, looks only as a final statement of this incurable dementia. What Pasolini once warned about in his Sala has now come to pass, and Magarinhos, using the cinematic language of ultraviolence, only records the last stages of this decay, decay, self-destruction.