‘Kill her and bring me her sex organs!’
Imagine a horror film based on the original Brothers Grimm fairy tales. Not the Disney-fied versions, but the original dark, twisted stories. Imagine that film combined several of the classics into one anthology, mixing them into one crazed narrative. Now imagine this film was laced with a strong current of eroticism. Sounds good? Then boy, have you come to the wrong place.
The New Adventures of Snow White could have been terrific, had it been the darkly sexual horror film we imagined moments ago. Instead, it’s a ludicrous softcore comedy about two bumbling morons who wander in and out of the various narratives causing mischief wherever they go, while Snow White, Cinderella and Sleeping Beauty wander about in the buff.
It all starts preposterously enough, with the Wicked Witch ordering a woodsman to bring her Snow White’s ‘sex organs’. Then in the most terrifying scene in the film, seven cock shaped mushrooms transform into seven dwarves and you realise you’ll never be the same again. By the time Snow White shows the two idiots how to milk a cow with their mouths, I was ready to throw in the towel and give up on this blog entirely.
After this madness, the film settles down a bit. There’s some great imagery in Sleeping Beauty’s castle, where apparently everyone in the castle fell asleep amidst an orgy, their nude bodies frozen mid coitus, covered in cobwebs, followed by the best scene in the film, in which the gang rape of Cinderella is thwarted by a goose dangling from a string (there’s a sentence you never thought you’d read). There’s also a mildly amusing running gag about all the animals in the forest being enchanted princes, who’re trying to kiss our bevy of beauties to turn them back into human form. What I’m trying to say is, there’s a bear wearing a crown, and who doesn’t love seeing an animal in a hat?
It’s not a terrible film, though even at only 70 minutes it outstays its welcome. I would have loved to have seen what a true erotic horror director like Jean Rollin would have done with similar material. It’s frequently tiresome, and the music is a horrible neo-psych-folk pastiche, like it thinks it’s the soundtrack to ghastly hippy musical Hair, but everything is eventually redeemed by the appearance of Cinderella’s Evil Step-Sisters. These catty bitches steal the show, whether slicing off their toes and heels to fit the glass slipper or simply throwing shade at each other as if they’re auditioning for John Waters movie.
‘That colour suits you, sister. It’s so vulgar.’
‘It’s too bad the prince is picking a bride – if he was picking a slut, you’d win.’
‘Why must you get into a dress that shows off all your worst parts?’
‘My motto is if you got it, flaunt it.’
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