Even the most threadbare porno needs a minimum of set dressing. Among the scant accoutrements on the X-rated Tarzan parody being, er, shot in this film is a West African tribal mask. Unknown to all, said item is cursed, having been stolen by a genocidal white man in the late 19th century. Anyone donning it becomes instantly possessed — a setup bearing similarity to 1994’s The Mask, if Jim Carrey’s character were a psychopath who kills co-workers with dildos.
Here, the justifiably evil spirit exacts revenge on anyone who isn’t a virgin — good news for the audience’s surrogate, Mary (Nicole Katherine Riddell, White Sky). Seeking gainful employment to escape life under others’ thumbs, Mary lands this gig after naively answering a classified ad for a fluffer without knowing the job requirements, despite office wall posters advertising such flicks as Womb Raider and Die Semi-Hard — a sitcom-ready premise of har-de-frickin’-har.
Those two sentences alone adequately orient you to the wavelength of Mask of the Devil, a goofy British horror picture from Dogged director Richard Rowntree. Plowing forward with eagerness, it’s full of energy, but also unnecessary stylistic comic-book touches that detract from its greatest potential: to demonize.
I’m certainly not against humor in horror, but Mask of the Devil instantly abandons the sly satirical vibe of its opening: a fake trailer for a coming-of-age, Ken Loach-style kitchen-sinker. All the more appropriately miserable in black and white, the preview is a stroke of genius in an otherwise off-target, drawn-out feature. —Rod Lott