INTRO: A CELLULOID TIME MACHINE SOAKED IN SWEAT & SIN
Some films take you back to the ’70s. Brute 1976 grabs you by the collar, shoves you into a rusted Trans Am, and speeds you straight into the grindhouse era while blasting a mixtape made of beer fumes and danger.
Joe Knetter,. Yes, George A. Romero’s Twilight of the Dead Joe Knetter—wrote this fever-dream love letter to The Texas Chainsaw Massacre and The Hills Have Eyes, and damn if it doesn’t hit every forbidden pleasure button along the way.
The cast. Adriane McLean, Sarah French, Gigi Gustin, Dazelle Yvette, and Adam Bucci deliver exactly what this kind of retro sleaze horror demands: sweat, screams, style, and terrible survival instincts.
And let me tell you. The movie is shot extremely clear. HD enough that you can smell the desert heat.
THE SETUP: DESERT BREAKDOWNS & RULES EVERY HORROR FAN KNOWS
Two women. Raquel and her girlfriend, break down on the roadside in the middle of nowhere. A separate group is doing a sunburned photoshoot nearby. Fate throws them all into the same meat grinder.
Before the blood hits the lens, the movie gifts us with the following. Gorgeous, almost fetishistic shots of female feet (Tarantino somewhere just felt a disturbance in the Force). Sun-drenched 70s vibes so authentic you can taste the dust. That classic horror rulebook being ignored page by page
My Rules the Film Immediately Breaks:
- Never go into a cave or anything carved into a cave face.
- Never explore a ghost town, especially one called Savage.
- Never stick your johnson into a gloryhole, not in general—but especially not in a ghost town.
- Never walk into the dark while announcing yourself loudly.
Consider this your survival pamphlet.
THE RETRO AESTHETIC: A GRINDHOUSE BUFFET
Let’s not dance around it. This is retro horror at its absolute finest.
Everyone looks good, everyone is sweaty, and everyone is about five minutes away from making a decision they cannot walk back from. We get the following. Classic grindhouse nudity. Graphic girl-on-girl action that would have gotten this banned from drive-ins in ’78. The kind of lingering beauty shots that scream, “This is how you shoot exploitation cinema, kids.”
I reiterate, some very, very nice shots.
THE KILLERS: AXES, MASKS & A WHOLE LOT OF MOMMY ISSUES
No retro horror is complete without a deranged villain.
Here we get multiple. Masked desert psychos. Skin-wearing freaks
A cult led by the wonderfully disturbed Mama Bird, a name that becomes profoundly upsetting in the final act.
One killer even pauses mid-murder to compliment women’s beauty and talk about how hard it is to be a girl, only to reveal he’s sporting a borrowed rack.
That’s when you know you’re in true grindhouse country.
THE MAYHEM: RETRO VIOLENCE TURNED UP TO 11
Knetter and the crew unleash a buffet of carnage:
A classic ankle twist that had me wincing like I stepped on a Lego made of knives. Trap doors everywhere, like these psychos studied Looney Tunes and said “yes, but evil” A back-breaking moment that would make Bane rethink his methods. A groin drill scene that had me crossing my legs so hard I almost levitated. And every moment of tension? Chef’s kiss. Perfectly mean.
Then the twist hits. Hard. Like a knife to the gut delivered by someone smiling.
THE CULT OF SAVAGE: ABANDON HOPE, YE WHO ENTER
The ghost town the characters stumble into? Not abandoned. Savage is alive, populated, and horny for carnage.
There are bikini babes waving flags, and there are killers in borrowed skin. Also there are cult rituals that make you reconsider your relationship with taxidermy.
My favorite line of the film, which I am surely mangling. “Chief, sometimes the Browns gotta take it to the Superbowl.” Delivered in the middle of hell. Perfect.
THE VERDICT
By the final moments, Brute 1976 has transformed into the secret lovechild of Leatherface and Rob Zombie, raised on gasoline fumes and bad ideas.
It is sick, twisted, hilarious in its depravity. Beautiful in its grime and absolutely committed to the retro-horror craft.
ALSO SEE: The Weedhacker Massacre – Movie Review
I had a hell of a time. This movie is a blast of sun-scorched, blood-soaked grindhouse energy that refuses to apologize for anything. If you love ’70s cult horror, this is your new religion.
As of this writing. Brute 1976 is available on Amazon.
