Bowels of Hell

There is something indescribably pure about starting the day at a film festival with a horror comedy about a haunted toilet – especially if one has been to the facilities shortly before the screening. Such was the case for those who attended an early morning preview of Bowels of Hell ahead of its nighttime world premiere in Rotterdam’s Harbour section. Genre enthusiasts are in for a treat, and the film is funny and insane – and gross – enough to ensure a fruitful journey on the festival and midnight circuit.

The central character of this soon-to-be-brown-tinged story is Malu (Martha Nowill), an event planner who’s had a dysfunctional relationship with bathrooms ever since a tragic incident that scarred her (psychologically) for life. She uses a contraption that allows her to urinate while standing up, and pointedly refuses to sit on a toilet when it’s time for the other errand – which is probably why she suffers from chronic bowel blockage.

And in case you thought that wasn’t enough, Malu also has to deal with her latest assignment: a gender reveal party commissioned by a pregnant influencer who lives in her building. This creates even more tension between Malu and her non-binary teenage child, and things are about to get worse as some of the neighbors start complaining about malfunctioning bathroom equipment. At that point, it’s only a matter of time before what some might consider a throne actually turns into a deathtrap…

Beyond what is spiritually akin to the “splatstick” of early Peter Jackson (with whom Bowels of Hell shares an irreverent low budget aesthetic), the story is, first and foremost, about human connection, albeit through a satirical prism. This is expressed primarily via the mother-child plotline, which is effective and affecting thanks to the perfectly judged performances, although some of the pronoun jokes don’t really land (then again, that could simply be a matter of the Portuguese wordplay not translating as efficiently in the adaptation made for the English subtitles).

But most people will be drawn to this film by the promise of gruesome toilet-related incidents. And in the early stretches, the movie takes its time, almost as if it shared in its protagonist’s constipation issues. Then, when the third act rears its feces-covered head and shit gets real, the picture morphs into a veritable cascade of poo, piss, puke and pus. It’s a spectacle so gloriously, deliriously filthy, you’ll be glad it’s neither in 3D nor in Odorama. Even the Jackass crew – no strangers to stunts involving excrement – would think twice about entering that building.

At one point, it looks like the film might be paying tribute to The Shining and its iconic shot of the elevator, only this time the liquid gushing out is brown and not red. If intentional, it’s a fitting homage, given Stanley Kubrick’s habit of coming up with key scenes that took place in bathrooms, as well as the most extravagant statement of intent: the movie may be visually modest, but in terms of ambition it aims for the sky. Well, the ceiling. And the walls, and any other immobile target in sight. By the end of it all, co-directors Gustavo Vinagre and Gurcius Gewdner have not only delivered a thrillingly deft mix of clever commentary and gleefully juvenile humor, they’ve also made the best case for reclaiming and recontextualizing the adjective “craptastic”.

Directors, screenwriters: Gustavo Vinagre, Gurcius Gewdner
Cast: Martha Nowill, Otávio Muller, Chandelly Braz, Marco Pigossi, Regina Braga, Olívia Torres, Bruce LaBruce, Maria Gladys
Producers: Rodrigo Teixeira, Berta Marchiori, Tereza Alvarez
Cinematography: Daniel Venosa
Production design: Juliana Lobo
Music: Arthur Joly
Sound: Ruben Valdés, Henrique Chiurciu
Production company: RT Features
World sales: Blue Finch Films Releasing
Venue: International Film Festival Rotterdam (Harbour)
In Portuguese, English
111 minutes