Schlock & Gore: …In Furs (2017)

“I am tired, I am weary
I could sleep for a thousand years
A thousand dreams that would awake me
Different colors made of tears”

I’m kind of breaking the rules this week (They’re my rules, fuck you!). This film is not really horror… maybe it’s a cousin to horror and exploitation. This film is not schlocky, and while there is blood, it isn’t particularly gory either. What it is, is intense and independent and I’m being held hostage until I review it so…

Oh no. Stop. Please. I hate movies.

In Furs is the feature film directorial debut of the brain behind King of the Witches movie distro, Christopher Bouchie. The one thing that stands out as a potential signature from Christopher after seeing his first full-length feature, is contrast. From the death metal laid over pornography and the stark color contrasts in his video mixtapes, to the entire plot and look of …In Furs, contrast seems to be key.


We meet Earl, and we meet him in two different realities. One where he feels on top of the world. He’s successful and married to the perfect woman. Then he wakes up (or does he fall asleep? Hm) into a world where he wakes up on filthy matresses next to hookers, does heroin, and spirals into murder and psychopathy. Is this how the same man would react under different circumstances? It’s quite the contrast to be sure.


In a nice directorial move, the contrast continues into the colors of the film.


Earl goes on to murder his friend and dealer, but it’s okay because he still gets to speak to his fucking ghost like he never even died. He then pisses a path through the derelicts in a short quest to find his wife. As you might guess, things don’t go quite so simply.

I quite enjoyed the acting, especially that of Rachel Rose Gilmour and Vito Trigo. I recall seeing Vito in one of my favorite Troma films, Return to Nuke ‘Em High, as the lead cretin. Here he shows he’s got some real range by playing a vastly different character. He’s definitely one to watch and his talents have been expertly utilized by Mr. Bouchie.


I can’t lie, this film is kind of a bummer. It’s not crammed to the ass with warm fuzzies, so if that’s what you’re looking for, go watch The Little Mermaid or A Serbian Film.

Finally I’d like to end this review by CONTRASTING it with a shitshow of a poem I wrote about this movie solely as filler that I call “The Earl of Pain”.

Happiness is not heroin
but escaping isn’t despair
Earl needs a fix of his wife but she’s no longer there

Murder friends and strangers
and with their ghosts, converse
Earl, fight your wicked demons, both the angry and perverse

Piss a path through derelicts
Reclaim what’s lost with rage
Earl, bring her flowers like when you were engaged

Frenzied and forlorn
this little life is shot
this world can go fuck itself, for pain is all I’ve got

Go to and spend all of your money.

Stay Slime, and be rad at all times!

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