The Human Centipede III (Final Sequence) is an empty, self-gratifying, wannabe exploitation flick that’s crafted by a monkey who started by flinging poo at a wall with artistic intent – yes, The Human Centipede (First Sequence) has value – yet has now devolved into a smut-peddling attention whore who keeps flinging poo just to stay relevant. I wish I could stop my review of Tom Six’s worst movie to date right there, but I cannot – because that would be doing all of you a disservice (and because I have a minimum word count requirement). Six’s franchise has turned from a cheeky attempt to push unimaginable boundaries into a “for shocks only” nightmare that prays college film students will dare one another to sit through one last ass-to-mouth ensemble, cringing with every life-giving passage of waste. Unfortunately, Six’s third film is a dare with no winners, whether or not you can stomach his latest “100% Politically Inaccurate” experiment.
Continuing Six’s chain of metaphysical events, The Human Centipede III (Final Sequence) begins with the credits rolling on (Full Sequence), and a pan-out to George H. W. Bush Prison Warden Bill Boss (Dieter Laser) and his accountant Dwight Butler (Laurence R. Harvey). We learn that the prison is doing horribly, which doesn’t bode well for Governor Hughes (Eric Roberts) – especially during an election year. Hughes tells the men they have two weeks to turn their sinking ship around or they’re both out of a job, but he might live to regret those words.
Boss immediately expresses his wishes to start castrating prisoners one by one, but Butler suggests something much more “economical” that comes about from watching Tom Six’s “brilliant” Human Centipede movies. Yes, you guessed it, a 500 person Human Prison Centipede.
You’d think Six would have something poignant to say about America’s judicial system or corrupt governmental bodies given his third film’s setting, but don’t be so naive. A mere two minutes pass before Bree Olsen (playing the film’s only female character, Daisy, a slutty secretary sex-slave) enters Boss’ office, only to be told to “shut her pussy mouth” while Boss finger-bangs her. You know, to assert her worthlessness early, and unfortunately, often. Olsen only exists to “empty” the piggish warden’s “ballsack” and wear skirts that reveal just enough sweaty buttcheek to remove any shred of dignity Daisy fights for. Because womanizing is funny and that’s what exploitation is all about, right? Hateful representations of misogyny that add zero philosophical value or inward societal reflection!
But don’t worry, Six’s nonsensical spiral down a diarrhea-clouded toilet bowl is loaded with plenty of other “OMG, NO HE DIDN’T” moments laced throughout Dieter Laser’s dialogue. Bill Boss spews these overlong monologues that are filled with every racial slur you could imagine – and some that you can’t – in an effort to establish Boss’ narcissistic, self-destructive insanity. No religion, race or color are spared from Six’s “stinging” chastising, from Boss’ jesting about “monkey bones” (and no, not as a Brendan Fraser reference) to inserting the “N” word no matter what shade of skin the recipient has. Again, this has NOTHING to do with the centipede and only highlights inept screenwriting that mistakes brazen stupidity for “politically incorrect” jabs.
And therein lies the BIGGEST problem – Six almost completely abandons the concept that made him famous in favor of his sick obsession with Bill Boss and Dwight Butler. And why, even? Exploitation films are built on camp, yet Laser and Harvey become parodies of themselves given such hammy, air-humping, over-acted performances. Both the (First) and (Full) entries evolved the human centipede concept, yet the (Final) film gets caught up in the disgusting ravings of a madman who’s horridly content with disrespecting the very same viewers who strangely worshipped Six’s first two putrid experiments.
The Human Centipede (Final Sequence) runs 102 excruciating minutes, yet by minute 74 there still hadn’t been any centipede action – or any action for that matter. Boss castrates an inmate and eats his testicles for lunch, he chews dried female clitorises because African tribes believe they bring strength, we watch Daisy fellate Boss for what seems like an eternity (slurping noises and all) – but no signs of a centipede ever surface.
Six thinks he can be cute about the whole ordeal because he inserts himself in the movie, but this could be the most egregiously masturbatory act of all. Not only does this give Six a chance to pat himself on the back whenever possible, as characters compliment what a gift to cinema his franchise has been, but also bolster the current film’s own brilliance. There’s a moment where Six himself vomits upon seeing what Boss has created, which is meant to be a celebratory upchuck of iconic proportions – basically his version of Quentin Tarantino’s “I think this just might be my masterpiece” line from Inglorious Bastards. How sad a legacy.
The Human Centipede (First Sequence) started something vile, The Human Centipede (Full Sequence) went meta on everyone’s asses, but The Human Centipede (Final Sequence) is something far different. Whether you consider it a whimpering cry for help or a filmmaker’s reflection on his own self-proclaimed genius, Six’s finale completely loses sight of the necessary downplaying such a vile act of torture requires. Simply put, what started as “100% Medically Accurate” has transformed into “100% Bullshit.” The same kind of bullshit that doesn’t understand how “exploitation” is any different from a chorus of hatespeak.
Exploitation is fun, cheeky, and (mostly) subtle. There’s artistry in each explosive splatter of gore, and an understanding of satirical mockery. But The Human Centipede (Final Sequence)? Well, it’s just pure, unfiltered shit.