Throughout my many years as an avid moviegoer, I’ve seen more
than my share of ridiculous movies—even deliberately seeking them out in a
number of cases. I mention this only to assure you that when I say that the
Godsploitation epic “The Devil Conspiracy” is one of the nuttiest films that I have ever borne witness to, I am
not trying to be wildly hyperbolic. How nutty is it, you may ask? Consider the
opening sequence, which recounts the Biblical battle between the Archangel
Michael (Peter Mensah) and the rebellious Lucifer (Joe Anderson), and which endswith
the former banishing the latter to an eternity of imprisonment in the depths of
Hell. This is staid enough, I suppose, if you can overlook the murky lookand
somewhat dubious CGI imagery on display.
No, the moment of inspiration—if that is quite the word—comes
when Michael arrives on the scene to finish off Lucifer’s confinement by
shackling him to a seemingly unbreakable chain. Lucifer, while being dragged
over, then remarks, “Is this really necessary?” I know we are barely two weeks into
2023, but I doubt that there will be a funnier line from a movie this year unless Elaine May went back to work without telling
anyone. The rest of “The Devil Conspiracy”never quite hits that level of sublime silliness, but Lord knows it tries, no pun intended.
When the story picks up again in our time, the Shroud of
Turin—that fabled length of linen that supposedly served as the burial shroud
for Jesus and which allegedly bears his negative image—has been put on display
and is attracting thousands of visitors a day. One of these visitors is
disbelieving American art scholar Laura Milton (Alice Orr-Ewing), who has been
let in by a friend, Father Marconi (Joe Doyle), to study an accompanying statue
chronicling Michael’s defeat of Lucifer. Still there after hours, Laura
witnesses a group led by the malevolent Liz (Eveline Hall) steal
the Shroud and murder Father Marconi before
stealing off into the night.
It turns out that Liz is the leader of a Satanic cult determined
to free Lucifer from his chains, reincarnate him in the body of an unborn child, and allow him and his fellow demons to rule Earth. Alas, their efforts have been
stymied because mortal bodies simply cannot hold up to the strain of Lucifer’s
power and rage—only the infant Christ could possibly survive under those
circ*mstances. It also turns out that Liz has a biological ace up her sleeve—Dr.
Laurent (Brian Caspe), her evil geneticist partner, has devised a way of
extracting the DNA of long-dead people to make clones. They then use the DNA from
the Shroud to devise a fertilized egg that’s implanted in Liz so that she can
give birth to the end of civilization. (They evidently finance their more
overtly evil endeavors by holding secret auctions of the cloned likes of
Vivaldi and Michelangelo, the latter with an opening bid of ten million Euros.)
Sounds foolproof, I know. But what they didn’t count on was that, as the result
of his dying prayer, the late Father Marconi had his body taken over by
Michael, who goes off in pursuit of a rematch with his former foe.
What we have here is a narrative that suggests a literally
unholy amalgamation of elements taken wholesale from sources as varied as
“Paradise Lost,” “Rosemary’s Baby,” and “The Boys from Brazil” as filtered
through the literary voice—for lack of a more polite term—of Dan Brown in a
manner that will have my editors questioning whether I need to adjust my
medications. Perhaps realizing that whatever flimsy integrity Ed
Alan’s screenplay has might dissipate if viewers are allowed to contemplate the
narrative for more than a couple seconds, director Nathan Frankowski tries
to avoid that by hurtling from one scene to another (including multiple
journeys through a conveniently located gateway to Hell) at a breakneck pace.
Unfortunately, this doesn’t quite pan out because the combination of the
chintzy-looking effects, unconvincing-but-plentiful gore, and
indifferently-staged action beats make it a bit of a slog.
For a while, I was almost willing to forgive “The Devil Conspiracy” its numerous artistic trespasses—like its clunky action and
clunkier performances—because of the absolute absurdity of it all. However,
towards the film’s final third, “The Devil Conspiracy”starts reining in the craziness and becomes more familiar and repetitive, rightwhen it should be ramping up to even madder heights. The biggest crush comes at
the conclusion, an all-too-familiar
climax that serves only to set up a sequel whose existence could
only serve as a key indication that the Rapture is nigh. However, there’s one additional sublime moment on a par with that opening bit, in which a
Lucifer-infused Laura does her best impression of Isabelle Adjani in
“Possession”—screaming, contorting herself, and power-chugging a gallon of
bleach that she proceeds to vomit directly into Liz’s face—before finally being
subdued and dragged away. Watching her go, we hear Liz wistfully murmur “That
could have been me.”
Yes, “The Devil Conspiracy” is nuttier than the proverbial
fruitcake and twice as difficult to swallow, regardless of where you reside on
the theological spectrum. It’s so nutty, in fact, a small part
of me almost wants to recommend it on the basis that a movie this unhinged rarely gets a major release these days.
Ultimately, I can’t do that—professional standards and whatnot—but if my
description of its lunacies does inspire you to check it out for yourself, I can
assure you that you’re infor an experience that you won’t
easily forget, no matter how hard you may try.
Now playing in theaters.
