Filmed in Buenos Aires for about half a million dollars, combining
international actors with local performers and some people who seem not to
have acted before at all, Dying God is essentially a creature movie about sort of an
Amazon version of Sasquatch, called the Kurupi, who is loose and on a murder
spree in Buenos Aires one summer. His prey consists of the city's hookers.
And no, it's not pronounced "Crappy." It's COOR-oo-pee.
I suggest you call him Mr. Kurupi.
The monster is the last of his race, and he is accompanied by an Indian
shaman, who is the very last member of the tribe that once worshipped the
Kurupis as gods. The shaman has no reason to be in the story other than to get
captured and provide plot exposition before he dies. After all, how else could
anyone know the back story of inarticulate monsters worshipped by a Stone Age tribe
unless there is one chatty tribesman left? It seems that the god/monster is
dying and knows it. Before he passes on he must mate with a human woman to
insure the survival of his species. Unfortunately, that mating process is a
rather unfortunate one for the humans involved, since Kurupi's giant penis and
its vast quantity of ejaculate will kill any infertile woman, automatically
exploding her womb from the inside. (The police seem surprised by this, but I
thought every guy had this problem. I guess it's just me and Kurupi.) I'm not sure why
the same process does not kill fertile women but, well, it just doesn't. It
just hurts a real lot. On the other hand, it hurts a lot less than the
eventual delivery process used by Mr. Kurupi on women who bring the baby to
term. Since there are no more of his race, he's the designated obstetrician
and has to employ some kind of a makeshift bare-handed Caesarian technique. Imagine
Mola Ram delivering a baby, and you'll have the general idea.
The most prominent stars of the film are two Americans. James Horan plays
the cynical corrupt cop who is trying to solve the murder cases, and
wheelchair-bound Lance Henriksen plays the kingpin of the Buenos Aires
prostitution scene. Other international performers include former American
porn star Misty Mundae (now known as Erin Brown), and the French actress
Agathe de la Boulaye, who plays Henriksen's mute stepdaughter and bodyguard.
I don't normally notice the quality of the acting in a film unless it is
either brilliant or very bad. I noticed it in this case for the latter
reason. The performances from the locals, who take all the minor roles, are so
bad as to tear down the fourth wall entirely and constantly remind one that
it's just a movie - a bad, low budget B movie.
Here is a sample.
Of course, the acting is a pretty good match for the script, the concept,
and the special effects. Check out this battle between Henriksen's bodyguard
and Mr. Kurupi:
The scene looks comical as is, but is absolutely hilarious when you see it in
context, because the Kurupi has survived a hail of bullets which would have
felled The Incredible Hulk and has just ripped off a man's head with his bare
hands, when Agathe de la Boulaye decides that she's not going to run, but is
going to go mano-a-mano with the giant-schlonged monster. Needless to say, she
ends up in his mating lair where she is to be groomed for future Kurupi
stepmotherhood.
And so it goes until the final showdown in which every main character is
killed ... but ... stumbling from the Kurupi's semi-secret lair is a pregnant
human woman ...
The End???
The author Graham Greene once noted that he found baseless optimism more
poignant and appalling than despair. Since the writer/director's ending for
this film anticipates that people will be clamoring for a sequel, Greene must be wincing in the afterlife.
