Iron Knuckle, the enormous living suit of armor baddie from Legend of Zelda, specifically the Ocarina of Time instance. The size of that character's battle-ax roughly mirrors the Beast's mock-hammer. And what does our Beast use this brutal weapon for? Why, for bashing in the pretty heads of lots of cute ravers, that's what. Because our Beast bloody hates ravers.
Director Stacy Davidson slingshots us face-first into Sweatshop's world via a gritty, quick-cut opening sequence in a suitably creepy factory, involving a frightened, naked young woman, a spooked, trigger-happy cop (cameo'd by Fangoria's managing editor Michael Gingold), and after like a thousand gunshots later a bloody smear pulled across the concrete, revealing the film's title. Very nice. From then on it builds a slowburning 30 minutes or so until the next kill, teasing out ridiculous twentysomething dialogue and sex-talk in spot-on Camp Crystal Lake style, to where we could like kill for some merciless dispatching. But it'll come, don't you worry: and once the Beast swings that hammer, he'll not relent until the credits roll. So let's pace ourselves.
Wade heads back without climaxing — the look on his face when Lolli shuts him up is priceless — and Lolli smokes a cigarette. Then everything changes. Enter these ghoul-girls, swathed in ragged dresses and bearing sharklike teething in their bleeding mouths. Reminded me of the Dero from Takashi Shimizu's Marebito crossed with the sewer-dweller in Christopher Smith's Creep and a bit of Linda Blair. The ghoul-girls are in cahoots with the Beast, like they capture prey for him, or he kills prey for them, or both. So they pin Lolli down and she screams long enough for the Beast to appear, reach over and rip her lower jaw out. Wow, that was shocking and satisfying.
"She might still be alive?"
But it's perfect. The big denouement, with the factory full of raver kids gettin' down to aggrotech jams, including another Android Lust classic "Heathen", amps up w/ Charlie crawling, wounded and visibly shaken, across the dancefloor, pursued by the Beast, which pauses from killing her to dispatch some of the nearby dancers. Then it loses its cool and goes batshit, whacking down everyone like juicy, lightstick-waving watermelons, as Charlie pulls down the garage-door, locking it shut and pausing there as the screams build inside. New French Extremity doesn't get any colder and avaricious than this. So yeah, this is a very important point to make: the pacing, the characters (stereotypes etc), the sex scenes, it's all very dyed-in-the-wool slasher, quintessential Golden Age psychopathic. The creative SFX, a mix of modeling and CGI plus lots of bloodshed, plus the ingenious and unflinching kills, cuts closer to New French Extremity, specifically Alexandre Bustillo and Julien Maury (see À l'intérieur), Alexandre Aja's Haute tension and even Xavier Gens' Frontier(s). So for director Davidson to encompass these two sort of bookending levels to splattercore genre film whilst producing an original, badass villain and a gleefully killable target (i.e. raver kids), that indeed is something refreshing.