Marian Dora’s Carcinoma from TetroVideo!
Back in December 2019 when I interviewed actor, Thomas Goersch (see interview with Thomas Goersh here), he inboxed me afterwards to say it would be the last time he ever spoke about Marian Dora. I assume a majority of his interviews connect them together. Guess what? In my whole interview I asked no questions about Marian Dora, as a matter of fact, Thomas mentioned the name and that was very briefly.
Why didn’t I bring up Marian Dora? Simple, I have a confession to make… throughout the huge cesspool of extreme and nausea inducing films I have watched for review purposes or for private pleasures (erm, that sounds really wrong) over the years, until this very time I had never watched a Marian Dora film. I hear so many good things but have never chanced upon or bothered to buy one.
So, it was with a nice eyebrow raising surprise that TetroVideo asked me to review, Carcinoma from 2014 which they have acquired and are releasing November 16th both as a standard DVD and as a large box limited edition with a poster and cards. There’s a short movie attached also.
What also got my juices flowing was the sight of Ulli Lommel in the cast list. Nice. Having the director of so many old school video rental chillers such as The Boogeyman in your cast isn’t something to be taken lightly.
Dorian lays in an emergency room in a hospital whilst a rather tired and flippant doctor asks him questions. Whatever is wrong with him has been developing for some time and he says he should have come earlier. The doctor remains totally leaden in his responses until Dorian lifts back his gown and the older man’s face falls. We aren’t privy to what he has seen just yet, but he leaves the room and decides to act fast.
After the credits where we see the Dorian as a child and then intercut with a finger nail obsessively grinding into what starts as a lump on skin, to become a mushed up soon to be infected open wound, the doctor discusses his findings so far with a colleague. Apparently, Dorian had looked for medical help in the early days of his problem, and then refused any kind of therapy.
As Carcinoma properly begins, we sense a dark feeling of melancholy for we know as we witness Dorian in happier times with his friend, work, and some brutal sex with his wife, Vanessa – in the sequence we also have a snake slithering around them, and a nice piano tinkering. We are aware of where his existence is heading sooner or later.
In a brief but potent conversation when faced by the statement that whilst life exists, death does not, it should not be feared. Dorian responds by saying the fear should be how death takes you. This leads to a live rabbit wandering the snake tank.
“I have to see the doctor,” he tells Vanessa one day, “Something is wrong.” he is told that his problem is a large polyp on his large intestine – basically an abnormal growth. They medics removed it, however a further investigation found something else. He agrees to stay the night and ponder the operation in which so much intestine would be removed. However, wandering late night through the hospital kind of freaks him out. It is a morbid surreal edifice from hell itself, leering patients dabbling with themselves, cadaver faced workers, I expected The Tall Man to emerge and Dorian discover the place is one huge morgue! Oh aye, then he finds the morgue.
Vanessa leaves him, and from then on, it’s all downhill as he avoids the appointments and becomes lost in his own despair. Speaking with his friend, Julius (Thomas Goersch) and a priest along his harrowing journey, we witness his disturbed bowel movements, his lack of motivation and appetite for food plus sex, then an ever-increasing paranoia. We also see glimpses of why Vanessa left, due in part to his obsession with the growing decay on his body, and his attempt to create his own pain and pleasures with it all, seeking arousal and devotion to his disease.
The art and angles behind this orchestrated nightmare are totally involving. You are sucked in deeply by the performances and the carefully paced flowing ride you sit upon. This is my beginning journey into Marian Dora’s realm, and I am reeling. Carcinoma is a cancer that eats the skin and tissues, just like this film which nibbles and then consumes you.
I love German horror films. There’s always something so real and of course very sexually sad about them. Like Jorg Buttgereit, who injects so much feeling and loss into his main works, and Alexander Bakshaev’s wonderful S & M: Les Sadiques (see review of S & M: Les Sadiques here) which was very sexual but gloomy through and through.
Carcinoma does not rush you and thrust your face into what obscene festering revulsions are to come, it allows you to meet and understand the characters involved first before the gradual decline arrives. Little touches and pokes such as the head of a small Buddha statue falling off as he sits by it, the focus on a skull as he refuses one of his appointments by phone, it all adds a brilliant richness and drip feed to what is coming. Dorian Piquardt is the cement, his acting is secondary only to Marian’s unique direction.
Carcinoma cannot be approached lightly. It isn’t for everyone. No detail is held back from the camera lens and the rotten core of the whole thing is the disease itself. The effects are stunning. Imagine the most grotesque Edward Lee novel, then remove the humour.
What could have become absolutely soul-destroying with Carcinoma is treated seriously by the cast and director, reminding me a lot of the BBC classic, Threads (see review of Threads here) for its trudging downward spiral. In this case instead of the aftermath of a nuclear holocaust, into tumour eroticism and death.
Directed by: Marian Dora | Written by: Marian Dora | Produced by: Thomas Goersch | Cinematography by: Marian Dora. | Editing by: Marian Dora | Music by: Marian Dora. | Cast: Dorian Piquardt, Thomas Goersch, Ulli Lommel, Curd Berger, Lisbeth Piquardt, Dr Hartmann, Carina Palmer | Year: 2014 | Country: Germany | Language: German (English subtitles) | Colour: Colour | Runtime: 1h 23min
Distribution: TetroVideo
