The Human Centipede (First Sequence) Review

Sometimes you watch a film and you think, what am I doing here? What am I supposed to be getting from this? In fairness, the story of The Human Centipede (First Sequence) is pretty infamous by now so one could argue that, you know what you’re getting yourself into. But while the shock value of the idea might get you to see the film in the first place, ultimately the film itself needs to deliver something and, for my money, it really doesn’t.

So the story is (and do finish eating before you go any further) that mad scientist Dr. Heiter, who has spent his life separating Siamese twins, has decided that it’s time to do the opposite, i.e. connect people together. Via the digestive system. Ass to mouth. Literally. The unwitting subjects are two young American girls who are travelling across Europe and a young Japanese guy. The Japanese guy forms the head of the “centipede” and the two girls the middle and end. His creation complete, the Doctor goes about trying to train his human centipede, but of course things go wrong.

So let me try and eek out the good here. Given its concept, the film is surprisingly free of gore and viscera. Writer/director Tim Six understands that the idea of this film is enough to give you shivers. He knows that all it takes is the Japanese guy to say “I need a shit” and you will spend the next 5 minutes squirming in the most convulsive, uncomfortable horror as all you’re actually watching is a close up of the poor girl’s eyes. This is the girl who is in the middle I should explain. In case that wasn’t clear. The most effective sequence is when Dr. Heiter has his three subjects tied to their beds in his makeshift surgery in the basement of his house and he explains the details of what he is about to do, severing kneecaps, removing teeth, and literally sewing the three people together. He does this with the kind of matter-of-fact precision that any surgeon would use to explain to their patient the details of their forthcoming procedure and it’s very effective indeed. The point here isn’t torture for torture sake, like, say, Hostel or Saw. This is an experiment, and the fact that the three subjects are anaesthetised as he performs the various surgeries and then wake up in the positions they end up in, adds to the sense of madness and hopelessness and makes it more terrifying as a result. This is a man who knows exactly what he wants to do and is going about it without fuss or hysteria, in the most methodical and efficient way he can. On this point, arguably the greatest horror on display is the horror of humiliation and degradation. Dr. Heiter proceeds to try and train his new creation as if it were a pet, the three people forced to crawl on their hands and knees, eat the food the Doctor throws at them and suffer the consequences when they disobey. Again, it’s interesting to note that this punishment occurs off screen. You hear what is happening and that is more than enough. This is not to say there is no onscreen violence; I defy anyone to watch the tooth extraction without wincing or screaming like a girl and covering their face with a cushion. Not that that’s what I did of course. I merely winced and moved on. But the point is that Six is trying to create horror through ideas and, in a really unique way, this is the problem.

I have no time for violence for violence sake in films, including horror films. The best horror for me is always psychological, always about ideas, and while The Human Centipede eschews gratuitous violence, it is equally possible to assault people with an idea so gratuitous that you have to wonder, in a similar way as you would with the films that place gratuitous violence front and centre, what is the point? What am I to get from all this? The film succeeded in making me squirm at points, making me uncomfortable at points, but to what end? And if there isn’t an end or point greater than the sum of the parts (which, for me, there isn’t) then isn’t that the very definition of gratuitousness? Dieter Laser plays the part very well and what is good is the way he is obviously, in-your-face insane. There is no pretence, no attempt at subversion, he is batshit raving mad from frame one. The downside from a plot perspective is that, from the second the two girls enter his house and are offered a drink of water, you are screaming at them to run. He is CLEARLY up to no good, get the hell out of the house!!! What is also good about his performance is the fact that, it’s not brimming with tics and hysteria. As I said above, cold, methodical and efficient are the best words to describe him and this makes him even more frightening. Cold, methodical and efficient are also good words to describe Tim Six’s directing style and I found myself completely distanced from the subjects’ plight at all times. The ending, in particular the final image, is supposed to resonate and haunt you but I really didn’t care at that point and so it had no effect on me at all.

The Human Centipede (First Sequence) has and will gain notoriety. I like the fact that those seeking the very worst of what this film could have been will be disappointed by it not being as in-your-face as they will have presumably imagined. But in the end the only question I could ask is, what’s the point of it all? And, beyond to shock with a truly skin-crawling idea, I fear the answer is that there isn’t one.

4/10