Bowels Of Hell

Bluesky

It’s the ugly cousin of the splatter film, the one that makes even hardened gore fans wince. Once reserved to niche pornography, the fecally focused film has, over the past two to three years, gradually been making its way into the spotlight. What’s interesting about the more successful ones is that despite being intentionally grotesque, they’re not really films about bodily functions, and indeed almost all of them could be transferred to other contexts and still make narrative sense. The scatalogical element is really present to challenge the way we think about bodies, forcing us to reckon with our biological actuality – and, perhaps, to test our nerves in such a way that we become more emotionally receptive to various challenges.

Many elements of Gurcius Gewdner and Gustavo Vinagre’s Bowels Of Hell are derived from queer trash cinema, but the production values here are a cut above what one would normally expect for something with this theme and these characters. The film also goes to a dark place early on with a subplot about child loss, even if its does so in a deeply silly way. The unfortunate boy’s accident is triggered by his gleeful jumping up and down on a toilet seat, just one of many forms of abuse which toilets quietly endure as the story builds. There’s quite a bit of this, but it’s effectively pushed into the background. We see event organiser Maria ‘Malu’ Luiza understandably going to pieces at the loss of little Luan, and then we skip forward a decade or so to find her at odds with the boy’s sibling, at risk of driving away the only family member she has left.

Now going by the name Genesis, the teenager is consistently expressing a non-binary identity. They’re generally civil and polite, but nevertheless inspire ire in the headmistress of their São Paolo Catholic school, which in turn infuriates Malu. She’s also under stress because she has been struggling to keep her business afloat. She has an important opportunity to organise a gender reveal party for an influencer who lives on the top floor of her apartment building, and she’s determined that nothing can go wrong. Meanwhile, Genesis takes the couple’s lonely genius son under their wing. Both wishing that their parents would really listen to them, they scheme to find a way of shocking them into letting their barriers down.

A plethora of subplots include Malu’s overlooked assistant, Norberto, reconsidering his position; ageing superintendent Vilaça getting reports of plumbing problems from all around the building; charismatic cat Felicidade coming to a sticky (and distinctly infelicitous) end, as does the old woman who goes looking for him; and ‘Ms Kaka the Scat Mystic’, as she bills herself, looking at a smear on a toilet bowl and experiencing an apocalyptic vision. Viewers should be aware that there is also some comedy around pregnancy loss (gore fans will love the gratuitous FX employed in it). Through it all, however, the real focus is on the relationship between mother and child – despite Malu telling herself that she has no time to think about it. In this regard it’s quite a conventional tale, but charmingly so.

Premièred at Rotterdam, Bowels Of Hell will inevitably find itself playing to a niche audience, but it’s expansive in its outlook, with statements to make about society and the importance of seeing others’ points of view. It’s better at juggling sympathies than many a more serious work, and makes some surprisingly subtle satirical observations. It will, however, leave you wanting to wash your hands afterwards.

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