Island of Death is not really a good movie, by any standard, but it is a curious one. Imagine if Natural Born Killers had been made 20 years too early, as a Greek Eurotrash porn film. That's what you get here - the quaint story of a young, sociopathic British couple cutting a deadly swath through the population of a lovely little Greek island.
I'll spare you a detailed breakdown of the plot; it's not really important except to set up increasingly perverse or violent sex scenes followed by disturbingly brutal murders, often lovingly photographed for posterity by our charming young couple. It could have been brilliant, in its own sick and nasty way, but instead...
Instead, I found myself impatiently checking the run time and chapter index to see how much longer the parade was going to last. Sluggish pacing and listless, bland acting turn even vilest perversities into pablum, and connecting scenes into an eternity of dull plodding. Ah, well. You can't win 'em all.
I'll spare you a detailed breakdown of the plot; it's not really important except to set up increasingly perverse or violent sex scenes followed by disturbingly brutal murders, often lovingly photographed for posterity by our charming young couple. It could have been brilliant, in its own sick and nasty way, but instead...
Instead, I found myself impatiently checking the run time and chapter index to see how much longer the parade was going to last. Sluggish pacing and listless, bland acting turn even vilest perversities into pablum, and connecting scenes into an eternity of dull plodding. Ah, well. You can't win 'em all.