Reviews
Digging Into the Campy Horrors of ‘Death Drop Gorgeous’

There is a duality between gay culture and the LGBTQ+ community not necessarily seen by the casual observer. On the surface, a sanitized dish sprinkled with a dash of camp that is both appetizing and easily digestible – think RuPaul’s Drag Race after its move to VH1, Netflix’s Queer Eye, or the very essence of Neil Patrick Harris. Underneath, however, lies a Giallo-like realm of irreverently dark humor, sex, and queer people being their unapologetic selves. Basically, what I imagine the inner workings of Julia Fox’s mind to be.
Death Drop Gorgeous, written and directed by Michael J. Ahern, Christopher Dalpe, and Brandon Perras, dives headfirst into the Gay Upside Down and explores this seedy underbelly of life known to many a queer person. It’s a horror film made by and for the community, with humor just as foul as its vicious gore and an esoteric script that is at times impenetrable to the untrained eye. While representation matters, so too do counterculture and defiance, and DDG is radical as hell.
This grungy slasher tracks a gaggle of drag queens, barkeeps, and aspiring somebodies – the local has-beens and have-nots of Providence, Rhode Island – as they struggle to make something of themselves. The catch? An unseen killer seeks to make blood bags of them instead, slaying and filleting their way through the community in and around the local gay bar that acts as the film’s hub. Borrowing more than a title from 1999’s dark comedy Drop Dead Gorgeous and taking cues from the likes of Showgirls, DDG becomes its own twisted version of these beloved cult classics. Gay colloquialisms replace small-town Minnesotan accents, and the backstage exploits of drag queens Janet Fitness, Tragedi, and Gloria Hole snatch the torch from antihero Nomi Malone and her Vegas contemporaries. Films that were already on the fringe of the mainstream are further subverted into something fully representative of a community and culture that doesn’t always see the light of day.
This spotlight shines on none more so than Gloria Hole, the aging, bitter drag queen with little to show for her tarnished brand other than hosting Tuesday Night Bingo at the local dive. She is rather aggressively being ushered out by younger and more flexible queens, and Michael McAdam (local Providence drag queen Payton St. James) is unmatched as Gloria, displaying comedic timing and dramatic range befitting an Oscar nomination (well, at least Golden Globe). While some of the film’s acting is a bit rough around the edges, McAdam left me transfixed each time Gloria was on screen, and boy does she have some sinful tricks up her sleeve. The cast is rounded out with amusing takes on the usual archetypes, such as buddy cops who break through the homoerotic tension into full-on lovers, the vile and corrupt bar owner with a soft spot for pup play, and the grating best friend who you actually wouldn’t mind seeing eternally silenced. Tragedi (drag queen Complete Destruction) also rises to unassuming icon status as a sociopathic bystander that could give Aubrey Plaza’s dry wit a run for her money.
DDG’s culture clash is also apparent when it comes to the production itself. LGBTQ+ centered media often tends to get the shaft regarding budget and visibility unless it’s awards bait or the aforementioned politically correct morsel, and at times these budgetary constraints are evident. Audio and video quality is noticeably lackluster in certain scenes when directly compared to others, which can be a bit jarring, but this ultimately does not detract from the film’s triumphs. The cutting humor and outstanding special effects work continue to pique interest, and by the time the film’s midpoint arrives – and the killer is revealed – it’s gone full tilt Giallo, and all is forgiven.
In this instance, the Giallo reference is not simply a knowing wink or homage: Genre specific structure, camerawork, coloring, and gore are peppered throughout until the final act sees the film fully release itself to the madness and perform a depraved dance that maniacally balances the styles of Dario Argento and John Waters. When I said DDG isn’t for everyone, I meant it, and even the Boulet Brothers’ darling of prosthetics and practical effects, Victoria Elizabeth Black, is on the crew to bring the carnage to life. Whether you want to see a phallus ground into mincemeat after a hookup gone awry or watch a chilling, purple-hued lip sync of Humanbeasts’ “Chandelier,” this film is your ticket.
Contrary to what current mainstream media would have you believe, there is a grittier side to the LGBT+ community that deserves to be seen and understood. The team behind Death Drop Gorgeous shines a blacklight on these dark corners and allows for an exploration of this shared experience. Stories of misbegotten dreams and cutthroat colleagues may not be unique to any one group of people, but it’s important to acknowledge where different cultures come from and maybe even have a little fun along the way. For some, this may prove cathartic, for others insightful, and for many open-minded souls, it’s simply a blast to behold.
Death Drop Gorgeous is streaming now on Shudder.
Reviews
[REVIEW] Final Girls Berlin Film Festival: ‘Mi Bestia’ (2024)
Mi Bestia follows Mila (Stella Martinez), a 13-year-old girl living in Bogotá. The year is 1996, and the date is quickly approaching June 6th. As 06/06/96 approaches, Colombian news officials and church officials raise alarm as an impending lunar eclipse is on the horizon. Religious panic sweeps the clergy at Mila’s school, putting them all on high alert. As the clock ticks down to the blood moon, Mila starts to notice changes in her body.

One of my favorite aspects of Final Girls Berlin Film Festival is their consistently fantastic slate of films. Even if they screen a film that doesn’t necessarily work for me, I can still appreciate it on merit. I was excited to see Mi Bestia on their lineup when I read through their press release for their 10th annual film festival. There was some good press coverage of it, and it sounded like an incredibly important film for the world we live in today. So, how exactly does Camila Beltrán’s directorial feature debut hold up?
Mi Bestia follows Mila (Stella Martinez), a 13-year-old girl living in Bogotá. The year is 1996, and the date is quickly approaching June 6th. As 06/06/96 approaches, Colombian news officials and church officials raise alarm as an impending lunar eclipse is on the horizon. Religious panic sweeps the clergy at Mila’s school, putting them all on high alert. As the clock ticks down to the blood moon, Mila starts to notice changes in her body.
As I stated when I covered Tiger Stripes in 2023 for Final Girls, female puberty is something I [probably] won’t have to deal with. And I know it’s much more difficult for young women than for young men. While I won’t ever understand the trials and tribulations of female puberty, it’s easy to empathize with the pain, both physical and mental, of it. Co-writer/director Camila Beltrán’s (with co-writer Silvina Schnicer) directorial feature debut, like Tiger Stripes, provides yet another wonderful exploration of puberty and finds a fantastic way to inject some excellent body horror into it.
Mi Bestia packages the idea of puberty in a way that focuses less on female bullying, which many stories like this do, and takes a slower, more methodical route to unravel its madness. Stella Martinez excels as Mila and brings so much depth to this quiet character. Instead of having one main foil character for Mila, the foil is broken up through a few side characters, but none are as prevalent and fantastic as Dora (Mallerly Murillo). Martinez may be the main character but Mallerly Murillo steals the show with an incredibly grounded and authentic performance.
Where Mi Bestia loses itself slightly is through its visual motifs. Instead of using one visual as the throughline for Mila’s puberty, Beltrán tries to get a bit too fancy with it. This creates a slightly uneven project that makes the film feel less confident than it deserves to be. Beltrán and cinematographer Sylvain Verdet create some beautiful moments in the film, but using the moon, plants, and owls to symbolize Mila’s bodily journey becomes a bit too much. Which I guess could be meta-symbolism for a young woman’s journey. However, again, it doesn’t feel like a film is confident enough to do so.
Besides my hangup with the visual motifs, Mi Bestia is a beautiful exploration of something I’ve never dealt with. It’s hard to verbalize how much I appreciate films like this, Tiger Stripes, and slightly tangential to this kind of story but still similar, My Animal. As I stated, it’s easy to empathize with journeys like these, even though it’s one I won’t take in my lifetime. However, it’s still important to see it cemented in film. Sometimes, you need to be reminded and placed in a perspective that isn’t your own just to remind you of the struggles others go through; sometimes, it’s easy to forget how easy you had/have it. This is why festivals like Final Girls Berlin Film Festival are so important.
Mi Bestia is a well-shot slow-burn that usefully doles out horror at just the right moments. Some may think it’s a bit too slow or doesn’t have enough horror, but for its 76-minute runtime, I think it does an excellent job at what it’s trying to do. Camila Beltrán has a few shorts under her belt, but it’s clear that having Mi Bestia as a debut feature film is the first notch of many on what will be an impressive belt.
Reviews
[REVIEW] Sister Gertrude Slays In ‘Killer Nun’ (1979)
Killer Nun follows Sister Gertrude (Anita Ekberg), a nun who has just returned to her job at a Catholic geriatric hospital after brain tumor surgery. The Sister’s fears aren’t put to rest after the surgery, and something still feels off to her. After a quick stint away from the cloth, Sister Gertrude’s entire personality changes. She becomes meaner, hornier, and possibly deadlier. What happens when the wrong part of your brain malfunctions? You might just get a Killer Nun!

Nunsploitation is a subgenre that has alluded me thus far in my horror journey. Out of all the -sploitations, I found myself gravitating more toward Ozploitation and Blaxploitation. Films like Disco Godfather, Coffy, and Patrick were always more appealing than the idea of a bunch of nuns running around and killing people (apparently, I had a narrow view of what Nunsploitation was). Over the years, I have watched Nunsploitation films here and there, but I couldn’t think of a better film for March than the based-on-a-true story Suor Omicidi, or Killer Nun.
Killer Nun follows Sister Gertrude (Anita Ekberg), a nun who has just returned to her job at a Catholic geriatric hospital after brain tumor surgery. The Sister’s fears aren’t put to rest after the surgery, and something still feels off to her. After a quick stint away from the cloth, Sister Gertrude’s entire personality changes. She becomes meaner, hornier, and possibly deadlier. What happens when the wrong part of your brain malfunctions? You might just get a Killer Nun!
This film is based on the true events that occurred in a small town in Central Europe. Sister Gertrude was based on Cecile Bombeek, a nun who killed three geriatric patients due to them being noisy at night (as well as abusing and stealing from patients). After Bombeek recovered from her brain tumor surgery, the other nuns started to notice changes in behavior. While Bombeek was charged with three murders, many believe she was responsible for multiple others.
Sister Gertrude’s character seemingly follows a nearly identical character arc to her inspiration. Still, there’s a much more sexual angle to Gertrude than what I could find from surface-level research. I loved so many aspects of Sister Gertrude’s character, and Anita Ekberg is fantastic in the role. Once her harshness toward patients starts, she’s put on short notice by Mother Superior (Alida Valli) and Dr. Poirret (Massimo Serato). From there, she embraces her sexuality and lets herself give in to her impulses. Her delivery of, “Sister Gertrude is dying to spend the night with you,” drove chills down my spine. However, this story takes an entirely different turn with the character of Sister Mathieu (Paola Morra).
The kills in Killer Nun are pretty uninspired with the goriest being a fascinating montage about halfway through the film. Even though co-writer/director Giulio Berruti crafted a relatively tame (based on what I’ve seen in this subgenre) production, it’s still a blast to watch. Paola Morra works well with Ekberg, and their sexual tension gives this film a cutting-edge that continually makes you ask, will they/won’t they?
Killer Nun isn’t a perfect film by any means and I don’t think it’s the best example of Nunsploitation but it’s a good intro to the subgenre. It has all the trappings but lacks the punch to make it a great example. The performances are top-notch and will keep the audience hooked but if you’re looking for something super sexual and bloody, you’ll be sorely disappointed.