The Gestapo's Last Orgy (Cesare Canevari, 1977)

It's got cannibalism, dogs eating people, forced incest, close-up shots of speculums, and coprophagia. Hell, it's even got lamp shades made out of tattooed human skin. But what I want to know is, where's the cheese? I mean, don't you just hate it when the Nazisploitation film you somehow got roped into watching fails to deliver the cheesy dialogue, and, not to mention, the tongue-in-cheek violence you desperately crave, pulls the old switcheroo and gives you an oddly compelling tale about a statuesque woman, who, get this, has the world's most pronounced set of lower back dimples, trying her best not to scream while hanging upside down over a crate filled with hungry rodents? Well, that's exactly what The Gestapo's Last Orgy (a.k.a. Caligula Reincarnated as Hitler) ended up doing. Of course, I'm not saying it should be taken seriously as an accurate account of daily life at your average concentration camp during World War II. However, it's way more honest and straightforward than the majority of the pro-war propaganda Hollywood has been warping minds with over the past seventy years. Your typical war film, especially the ones that are set during the post-war era, seem to glamourize armed combat, which I find tasteless and obscene. On the other hand, the films that make up the Naziploitation genre have a purity about them. The sole purpose of these films is to shock and offend all those who lack the common sense to stir clear of their wicked glow, and the good ones do so with no apologies. Sure, some of them can be mildly titillating, but in the case of this film, which is directed and co-written by Cesare Canevari, only the sickest of minds will be able to extract the visual nourishment necessary in order to maintain and operate an erection of note while watching this film.

Take my mind, for example, it constantly struggled when the time came to decide what was erotic and what was abhorrent. The moment when a female concentration camp inmate wearing a purple feather boa falls to the floor is the film's best example of this totally made up dilemma. Wait a second, why is a concentration camp inmate wearing a purple feather boa? Yeah, I guess I should explain that. You see, she was working as a waitress at a Nazi dinner party (that much is true), and, for some unexplained reason, they like to dress them up in sexy outfits. Anyway, as she's writhing on the floor, I couldn't help but notice that the braces attached to her garter belt had become exposed.

Now, you would think–judging by the content of some my previous ramblings–that I'd be pleased as punch by this unexpected peak at her lingerie. But that's where you would be wrong. The reason she's on the floor had nothing to do with exhaustion, but because the Nazis are literally eating one of her friends. Yeah, that's right. She unwittingly served them a smoked version of a fellow prisoner. Just the mere talk of cannibalism had caused some of the wait staff (i.e. slave labour) to faint, but when the consumption of human flesh actually started to commence, that's when the bodies really started to pile up.

You'll notice that one body, even as the Nazis are about to put "flesh on flesh," refuses to drop to the floor, and that body belongs to Lise Cohen (Daniela Poggi), a model of shapely stoicism in unshapely times. How exactly was she able to endure while all those around her crumbled under the sheer weight of the Nazis' savagery? Given the extreme nature of the film, it should come as no surprise that Lise will be experiencing the full force of their fiendishness in the not-so distant future. Yet, we happen to know full well that she will survive the ordeal that is to come. How's that exactly? Well, the film opens five years after the end of the war in Europe, and we see Lise meeting a German man at what looks like an abandoned concentration camp (graffiti adorned walls and charred rubble are all that remain). It would be seem that they're former acquaintances who have strong feelings for not only one another (he's done nothing but slobber all over her like nobody's business since they met), but also toward the camp itself.

As the two of them wander the ruins of the camp (their body language gave me the impression that they were returning to the scene of a crime), we flashback to a time when the camp wasn't a ghost town, but a fully functioning Nazi bordello/death camp during the height of World War II. A truck filled with women pulls up to the camp's entrance and dumps them before a camp commandant with a scar on his left cheek. Deciding with the flick of a wrist, he quickly separates the women into two groups. Normally, one group is selected for their ability to perform manual labour, while the others (the sick and the elderly) are summarily executed. However this is not the case at this particular camp. No, the women are separated on the basis of their overall attractiveness. And since Lise is one of the most beautiful women to hit the concentration camp circuit in donkey's years, her position in the hottie pile is pretty much guaranteed.

After a quick visit to the ob/gyn (even her sexy knees manage to dominate the unsavoury proceedings as her cellmates look on with stirrup-based envy), Lise is ready to... Mein gott in himmel! Don't look now, but the guy Lise is touring the camp ruins with five years from now is standing over there. Where? Over by the door, the Italian-looking guy in the black SS uniform. Holy crap! You're right. What's she doing hanging around someone who was clearly an SS officer? I don't know, but I bet it involves a truly fucked up explanation.

The man in the black SS uniform is Commandant Conrad von Straker (Adriano Micantoni), and when he's not giving unenthusiastic Heil Hitler salutes, he can be found showing repugnant slideshows to groups of nude servicemen. When they're finished watching the slideshow (which contain images of coprophagia, incest, and various other acts of degradation), the men are told by Conrad to extract pleasure from an equally nude group of women. A crass haze of groping, slapping, flesh tearing, foreign objects, wayward thrusting, and swastikas, this sequence was the epitome of awful. But it did give us our first taste of Lise's trademark indifference.

Limping back to their barracks (their assorted orifices, no doubt stretched to the breaking point, are crying out for ointment after being violated by an unruly concourse of uncircumcised Nazi cock), Lise and her clique of brunette gal pals try to put the memory of the rape orgy behind them, and focus on the debasement to come. Which, unfortunately–actually, every sentence pertaining to this film should feature the word "unfortunately"–comes sooner than they expected in the form of Alma (Maristella Greco), a cruel female SS officer who has just arrived at the camp. And she hasn't come alone. Lining up Lise and the rest of the women in a row, Alma systematically checks each of their vaginas with her hand before deciding which woman she wants to feed to her Doberman Pinschers (yep, she's going to let the dogs out). Chosen because she was menstruating, a woman with short hair is thrown into a cage and torn to pieces by Alma's peckish Dobermans.

Even though he was eyeballing her while she was being examined by the camp's doctor and during the slideshow/rape orgy, it's at the end of the cannibal dinner party that Conrad, and his trusty Luger P08 pistol, finally become acquainted with Lise Cohen and her dogged brand of spiritual fortitude. Frustrated by the fact Lise won't flinch after repeated attempts to unnerve her (he does everything his drunken Nazi mind can think of to scare her), Conrad decides right then and there that his new mission in life is to make her scream for mercy.

If she wants to die, so be it, but she's gonna die on his terms. And so begins the twisted relationship between Lise and Conrad, cinema's most vile and disgusting couple. On top of humiliating her, Conrad promises to destroy her mind and body. His first salvo in his campaign make Lise scream is a bit of a weird one, as it involves Alma giving her a pair of panties made out of human hair (hair panties, if you will) and showing her the many other items they own that utilize human by products (gloves made from baby skin - "nothing's softer"). However, things get a tad more conventional the following day when Conrad whips her while chained to a slab of concrete. When this technique fails to illicit the desired response, Conrad turns the sadism up a notch, and brings out the flesh-eating rodents. Hanging upside down, Conrad slowly lowers her naked body into a box of rat-like creatures. Yet, she still won't scream. What does a callous cunt have to do to get this courageous woman to scream?

Clearly unmoved by her own suffering, Conrad threatens to dunk one of her gal pals in a pit of calcium oxide (a.k.a. quicklime) if she doesn't scream. Dangling naked from a rope, Lise seems concerned for the well-being of the frightened brunette dangling naked beside her, yet is ultimately unimpressed by the commandant's threat. As her friend's body starts to waste away as a result of being submerged in the vat of toxic chemicals, Conrad notices that Lise has two small symmetrical indentations located on her lower back (you start to notice things like this after you watch a person dangle naked enough times). Okay, I'll admit, I'm exaggerating somewhat. I mean, there's no evidence that Conrad began to notice Lise's creamy dimpled chads at this point in this film. But let's get real, shall we? How could he not notice the cavernous dents in her supple flesh?

Well, in my mind, he does notice them. Sadly, her mind, much like the body of her brunette friend, has started to erode. Don't fret, though, she hasn't given up; not by a long shot. It's just that all the naked dangling she's experienced over the past few days has left her emotionally and physically drained. After some much need rest, and a well-earned shagging from the camp doctor (a sex scene that is set to "Lise," the film's haunting theme song), her lower back dimples are ready to get back in the game.

What's the best way to appease a sadistic Nazi commandant who has had it in for you since day one? You're way ahead of me. You perform oral sex on his beloved Luger P08 pistol, that's what. Since most Nazis are impotent, well, at least the ones who appear in Italian-made Nazisploitation flicks from late 1970s are, it makes perfect sense that Conrad's pistol act as a substitute for his nonexistent erection. Tonguing the barrel and licking the shaft, Lise works his gun over like a cock-sucking fiend. Did the firearm fellatio work? Who's to say? Well, actually, you're the one to say–you know, since you're the one writing about the movie. Excellent point. What I will say is, that soon after the handgun blow job was administered, Lise's Star of David patch has been ripped off and figuratively replaced with a rose on her garter belt. And if that's not a sign of true love, then call me a deranged malcontent.

In order to get to the point where Conrad starts treating Lise like the dimpled slice of perfection she truly is, we have to wade through gallons of nauseating tripe. In other words, was it worth it? That's a good question. I'd say it was totally worth it. You see, by focusing on Daniela Poggi's pulchritude–yeah, that's right, pulchritude– I was able to shield myself from the horror. In all honesty, the fact Cesare Canevari has crafted an extremely well-made film (the camera work employed during the non-flashback scenes was exceptional) is probably what's most disturbing about this film. Any sleazeball with a camera can make a loathsome piece of trash, but it takes a true artist to make one with any sort of proficiency, and that's exactly what The Gestapo's Last Orgy is, an arty turd.

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