Jay Rohr
Anything That Moves hands the audience a concrete block before letting them jump feet-first into the giallo subgenre. This modern take on Italian horror-thrillers, popular in the 1970s, delivers all the right visual elements. Yet, it manages to be its own movie throughout. Intensely sexual, frequently bloody if not outright gruesome, Anything That Moves is, if nothing else, provocative.
The film follows Liam (Hal Baum), a bike courier for a triple-x app. Under the guise of delivering snacks, he provides himself as the sweet treat. The movie takes the audience through the everyday sexual adventures in Liam’s relatively carefree life. The playful erotic tone shifts when a killer surface. Some slasher lunatic is brutally slaughtering Liam’s clients, leaving the police suspicious he’s a serial killer. Fearing for those close to him, but unable to stop working, he soon plunges down a spiral into ever more maddening situations.
From a certain angle, Anything That Moves is a tragic descent into danger. Liam’s life is playful at first, even when it may strike some as perverse, but as the movie goes on, his choices become increasingly reckless. Something about his sex work is inescapable. Whether it’s bringing satisfaction to others or the freedom it allows him, Anything That Moves offers a bizarre look at the death of naivety.
Writer-director Alex Phillips nails the giallo vibe while having his own visual aesthetic. As events unfold, there’s a murkiness like a drunk ogling through a peep hole. Scenes typically involve sex, sex, and more sex with pockets of gory death. Anything That Moves is more inclined to outrageous intercourse than gruesome slaughter which creates its own unique sexploitation giallo flavor. Just ask the character known only as Piss Man. Without trying to shame anyone’s fetish, it’s easy to guess what he’s into, and yet the portrayal is still distinctive in its absurdity.
The film’s sense of humor may not be for everyone. Those inclined to the comedy of John Waters may see something similar here. More than anything, the movie is unapologetic in its absurdity which often includes graphic sex fulfilling strange demands from certain clients. At risk of spoilers, adult film legend Nina Hartley (Boogie Nights) stars as a glamourous blind woman cruising around in a van who gets off on smells.
Anything That Moves is peppered with pockets of enormous creativity utilizing the aesthetics director Phillips is aiming for. The result is, to borrow some descriptions from press notes, a fleshy 16mm rust belt giallo avant-gutter psychedelic film. This allows the movie to be absurd with a touch of seriousness. The various sexual encounters, for instance, may induce discomfort, arousal, laughter, and perhaps even a scoff. Their point, however, is an exploration of intimacy.
Interestingly, the film blends elements of the varied types of giallo. Anything That Moves uses the sexploitation psychological thriller dynamics more often associated with f. gialli where the protagonist is typically female. Unlike the male m. gialli, sleuth-like crime solving aspects are ignored in favor of an exploration of sexuality and psychology. Essentially, instead of being a murder mystery solved by a protagonist, the movie follows a potential victim.
Stylistically, Alex Phillips’ movie is a fantastic looking flick. It has a dirty dreamlike quality that fits perfectly into its subgenre. Even the music courtesy of the Cue Shop captures as well as accentuates the vibe.
Anything That Moves tends to suffer from relying on one chord. I wouldn’t say a single note because the film has a little more intended depth with what it presents. Still, the movie seems like a sex act occurs every three to five minutes. Any breaks in softcore banging are momentary, typically to hurdle a plot point or more often set up another sexual encounter. As much as it fits the subgenre, sexuality can be overused. One might argue getting bored with repeated titillation is the point—a life of endless sex can start to sap the meaningful nature of physical intimacy leading to a need for more intense means of stimulation—but it translates to boredom for the audience.
Granted, the constant humping is always in service to the story. Not to risk spoilers, one wild night out with the character Johnny Chicago (Maxton Koc) ends well enough that Liam isn’t afraid to take another dangerous chance. However, Anything That Moves loses momentum bit by bit as the narrative essentially repeats. Again, not to spoil things — Liam has sex with someone, they end up dead, so he has sex with someone else, then worries they might end up dead, hardboiled crooked cops question him, Liam has sex with someone else who dies — you get the picture.
The cast is composed of several Chicago-area performers making their feature length debut. Hal Baum anchors the picture with his portrayal of a gifted naïve prostitute descending into danger. Jiana Nicole plays Thea, a woman enjoying a dreamy existence although she can see the end of good times on the horizon. Jack Dunphy and Frank V. Ross provide two detectives who think eleven is low on the scale of one to ten. Ginger Lynn Allen (Young Guns), another adult film star, provides a solid cameo as a client.
Anything That Moves aims at a specific subgenre so hard other audiences may have a difficult time getting into it. The film is marvelous from a visual standpoint. Its exaggerated characteristics provide an over-the-top sexual thriller that can be absurd as well as gruesome, not to mention titillating and disconcerting. Those squeamish about frequent full-frontal nudity, repeated softcore sex, and intense, albeit infrequent, gore might not enjoy this dark erotic journey.
Fans of giallo, though, may be the most entertained. Anything That Moves is narratively imperfect, losing steam on the way to a slothful close. It’s like a swan tripped over its own penis fouling a graceful display. Still, as I often say, better to check out a fresh flick than keep repeating an old watch for the thousandth time.
