Starring Chloë MacLeod, Michela Ross and Drew Forster
Written and directed by Becca Kozak
Sugar Rot Productions
Some films are so successfully vile, a nauseated audience is earned like an Olympic medal. Becca Kozak’s SUGAR ROT is what would have happened if Herschell Gordon Lewis was obsessed with sweets instead of gore, and it accomplishes exactly what it sets out to do.
The film, which had its Quebec premiere at this summer’s Fantasia International Film Festival, loosely follows the aptly named Candy (Chloë MacLeod) through her days as a punk-rock exotic dancer who works days at an ice cream shop. She cannot get enough of the sweet stuff, and her obsession leads her to constant snacking and sticky situations.
The plot is the least remarkable feature of SUGAR ROT. Though it does provide the vehicle for Candy’s physical transformation, as “you are what you eat” takes on a new meaning, the film is much more about exquisitely disgusting images. A Lisa Frank color palette meets viscera and the horrors the female body naturally produces, to make the indulgence both sickly and sickly sweet.
Like many exploitation films that have bigger ambitions than budgets, SUGAR ROT is anything but polished. The performances are largely fitting, and do not set out to go beyond the physical and simple exposition. The sets are simple, and even the ice cream shop seems to shift locations without warning at certain points. All of this is consistent with the movie’s punk-rock/DIY vibes, and should be celebrated for its scrappiness rather than used to take points away from the Kozak’s achievement.
While there are distinct undercurrents of feminism and body autonomy in SUGAR ROT, any expectations of major moral takeaways go unfulfilled. Candy has been done wrong by life in general and just about every other character in the film, but there is no revenge or satisfying bow to tie up everything. It could be argued that the lack of cohesive catharsis is consistent with the punk-rock attitude, but it is hard to not feel like this is a missed opportunity. For example, Candy is told by multiple people how fat she is, even though she is clearly within a normal weight range. There might have been a space here to comment on the absurdity of expectations of women’s appearances, or the underrepresentation of overweight women on screen, but none of that is addressed, in either text or subtext. It is just repeatedly stated as a way to underline Candy’s persistent sweet tooth.
The SUGAR ROT soundtrack is legitimately great, and dovetails nicely with all the punk references on screen. Canadian punks Pet Blessings, Dayglo Abortions and Daddy Issues all cycle though the scenes with a bad attitude that deserves a vinyl pressing. Putting blood, sugar, sex and punk into a blender, and then rubbing it all over a naked body in ecstasy, is the closest approximation I can think of for the experience of watching SUGAR ROT.
