For those who enjoyed The Most Dangerous Game, but thought it lacked balls — literally, sagging and unshaven balls — there’s The Suckers. I sure felt like one for sitting through it.
Directed by Stu Segall (Drive-In Massacre) under the pseudonym of Arthur Byrd, The Suckers transports a small group of fashion models to the middle-of-nowhere home of Steve Vandemeer (Steve Vincent, Mantis in Lace), “one of the top five game hunters.” The ladies believe they’ve been hired for a photo shoot to pose among the animals he’s killed. As their skeevy agent says, “It’s a little weird, but the money’s good.”
Vandemeer’s true intentions come to light when he tells him that they will be his prey. Why? “Because rape and slaughter go hand-in-hand when one is hunting human beings,” as if that explains everything. “I’m bored. Bored with the ordinary games of life.”
That sounds like a good ol’ exploitation setup; however, I had no idea going in that The Suckers was most interested in explicit sex scenes that play out in real time, complete with awkward copulation conversation: “Ooh, you just know, don’t cha?” While Segall stops a (pubic) hair short of showing penetration, it appears that the actors are doing the real deal.
Perhaps the raincoat crowd would love such a thing, but I was just bored; nearly 50 minutes passes before the nonsexual action starts. And after that, Seagall has more ass-tappin’ on tap, only now with the bonus element of rape. They’re ugly, repugnant scenes staged in such a way to turn viewers on. The Suckers once was a film considered to be lost; it should have stayed that way. —Rod Lott