Astaroth, Female Demon
by Larissa Anzoategui
Demons. The Occult. Heavy Metal. Tattoos. Ninjas. Whether you're writing a movie, book, or Tinder profile, these are some of the key phrases best scattered in there to really grab my attention. Astaroth, Female Demon, a 2017 Brazilian indie that has only recently secured distribution to the US and UK markets, has all these things. This is why, no matter how hard it tries to disappoint me, I can't help but love it; and if you're here, reading my review rather than The Washington Post's, I guarantee you will too.
The film introduces us to Gregorio (Janderson Tucunduva), a tattoo artist obsessed with bringing the titular Astaroth back from the brink of obscurity and giving her a body which, she promises, he will also get to enjoy. That's about the philosophical and metaphysical depth of their pact right there, but what follows is a surprisingly-short run time of scheming, possessed tattoos, metal bands, 1980's-style ninja training montages and incredibly well-manicured demon hands. Set that to the music of Demon, among others, and you're onto a winner.
For those not down with demonology, Astaroth was one of the three bog boys of Hell alongside the better-known Lucifer and Beelzebub, but the name has its roots almost four thousand years earlier in Astarte, a female iteration of Ishtar (formerly Inanna). She was, in short, representative of love, sex, and war. Unravelling the origins and evolutions of the name really is fascinating, but sadly I've left my PowerPoint presentation in my trunk and all you really need to know is Gregorio is so keen to get laid he's willing to sacrifice anyone in his way. After all, if a movie's demon looks like Darth Maul's swimsuit-loving cousin, it's likely that mythological accuracy is not high on the list of priorities. Frankly, she may as well have been called Bikinifer.
I'm copyrighting that. Don't steal it.
There are a few moments where the film's tone has its tongue so firmly planted in its cheek it threatens to poke right through, and it's that exact self-awareness that elevates it above a whole heap of low-budget, independent horror working with the same basic premise. With a meagre budget estimated at $50,000, heart and moxie are essential in making sure people are picking up what you're putting down. Indeed, a moment in which the three female leads enjoy a three-way split screen look to the camera after a 'getting ready' montage is so evocative of low-budget sorority slashers of the late 70s and early 80s you can't help but smile. Ultimately, the film feels akin to being among friends; people who watched the same films you did and loved the same obscure cinematic tricks and in-jokes of those that came before them. They attended the same grungy house parties and prioritised the things that made them outcasts in their time and this will inevitably strike a chord with the intended audience. No one, with the exception of the katana-wielding Mai (Jacqueline Takara) is really given much to do, but there is something in the bond between the on-screen friends that gives the impression this is a long-talked-about passion project.
With all that in mind, there is little to forgive when you encounter an underwhelming death scene or an anti-climactic sword fight. After all, when it's clear where a film is going, you're free to enjoy the journey. Go into this one with an open mind and let it remind you why you loved Evil Dead, Tales from the Crypt and anything else you loved while your adolescent classmates were busy obsessing over Rob Lowe. Or Justin Beiber. I have no idea how old you are, sorry.
Astaroth, Female Demon is available now On Demand.
Ryan Kennedy, HMS