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DEATH BED: THE BED THAT
EATS (1977)
Directed by George Barry
Cult Epics DVD
Reviewed 11.03.05
Review by Joseph A. Ziemba
THE FILM
Cinema is life. Cinema is sex. Cinema
is death. Death Bed: The Bed
That Eats is all of these things.
Hooray for cinema!
In 1972, a guy from the Detroit
suburbs named George Barry decided
to make a film. Completed in 1977,
Death Bed was never released;
Mr. Barry's sole output as a director
was relegated to illegitimate European
releases and muddy bootlegs for
the next 26 years. Welcome to the
funtastic world of DVD. Death
Bed has received a proper release
for the first time ever. A tiny
treasure chest has been revealed
and the experimental farts within
are more exotic than your wildest
nightmares. We will now embark on
a trip to the woods. I know not
why. Nobody does. Just be careful
and take a big breath of air.
Deep within an unspecified forest,
a cobblestone embankment houses
an underground cave. Inside the
cave lies Death Bed: The Bed That
Eats. Hundreds of years ago, Death
Bed was spawned by the tears of
a satanic demon, purposed to entice
humans via telepathy into becoming
its next meal. Stuck behind a painting
in the same cave sits a sickly narrator
(complete with fake British accent),
who was once ingested by Death Bed,
but rejected because of his unspecified
sickness. Over the course of one
day ("Breakfast," "Lunch,"
"Dinner," and "The
Just Dessert,"), the audience
plays fly on the wall. Death Bed
entices men and women with promises
of sex. Death Bed breaths heavily
as it removes women's clothes. Death
Bed emits piss-yellow soap suds
as it chows down on victims. Death
Bed guzzles a bottle of Pepto-Bismol.
A brother searches for his sister.
Will he understand the
plight of Death Bed? Will you?
For a $30,000 backyard project,
Death Bed is a major accomplishment
in the annals of strange cinema.
Calling the picture surreal is too
easy. In fact, thanks to the crude,
psyched out techniques and coulda-been-a-great-urban-legend
plotline, the film floats in the
upper echelon of disconnected films
that must be seen...just to be certain
that they actually exist. Scored
with sparse, echo-drenched synths
and random sound effects, the tone
is folksy and dead serious, despite
the obvious moments of facetiousness.
So when you see Death Bed eat a
bucket of fried chicken, replace
a guy's arms with plastic skeleton
bones, and knaw through a handful
of medieval orgy practitioners,
DON'T LAUGH. The look is cheap,
but completely appropriate; Death
Bed's chambers and the surrounding
areas would never have the same
effect if things were more fleshed
out. Especially during the disorientating
dream sequences.
So we've got this near-epic of dreamy,
ludicrous cinema with a helluva
hook. Does the concept wear thin?
A little. People wander into Death
Bed's room and then a feast ensues,
spiced up with the occasional flashback
and a generous amount of boobies.
This repeats a couple of times,
without much variation. In turn,
the content runs a tad short of
fleshing out a full length feature.
I asked myself if that really mattered,
but was unable to answer. I was
too busy thinking about those skeleton
hands. Brrrr.
AUDIO AND VIDEO
If you have a problem with crusty,
home stewed 16 mm prints, please
keep to yourself. The full frame
presentation was impressive, with
bright colors and a surprising lack
of damage. I can't imagine that
a "dusted off" film of
this nature could hope to look much
better. The grain was juicy, the
mono sound was crisp and audible.
Very nice.
EXTRAS
One supplement: a five minute video
interview with director Barry, interspersed
with backstage stills. He dishes
on the film's history and that's
how I learned all about it. According
to the Cult Epics site, extensive
liner notes are also included in
the disc's packaging. I rented this
bad boy, so no thoughts on those.
FINAL THOUGHTS
Death Bed goes toe to toe
with Doris Wishman's A
Night To Dismember as one
of the most detached low budget
horror films of all time. I wasn't
completely taken with the film as
a whole, but at least one watch
is mandatory. Just don’t forget
to wash the sheets. |
Appetizer
Yes, something is wrong
Death Bed's gullet
A quiet night at home
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