Bloody Parrot (1981)

Sadly, not an answer to a certain Monty Python sketch

Instead, Bloody Parrot is an eerily atmospheric gross-out sexsploitation wuxia horror with a blood-splattered bird nowhere in sight. A fever dream dressed in silk and shadows; there's a wonderful gothic elegance to the film's aesthetics with plenty of foggy interiors, ornate costumes and lavishly colourful sets that lean fully into confusion as a stylistic choice, crafting a world where illusion and deception are the only constants. Directed by Hua Shan, the film is packed with heroic dollops of nudity, thanks to Jenny Liang, who walks around half-naked, and buckets of gore, including one seriously yucky autopsy scene and a corpse dissolved with acid in a grisly close-up. It’s all ultimately compensating for the plot's tendency to keep adding and dispatching characters on a whim. The narrative twists pile up with such intensity that they stop feeling like twists and start resembling a surreal collage. Shan's wild camerawork and breakneck editing impart an otherworldly atmosphere, and he ensures another brilliantly choreographed swordfight breaks out every five minutes. Even when the story falters, the imagery keeps you hooked. The performances from the cast feel appropriately heightened; they don’t aim for realism so much as operatic intensity. Emotions run hot with a melodramatic edge that amplifies the film’s dreamlike quality, as do the musical cues lifted straight from Mad Max and even Ming's ring sting from Flash Gordon. Although Bloody Parrot never fully edges into the full-on gross-out mode you'd wish it would, it does reveal in its utter chaos and disorder to deliver a brilliantly entertaining time.

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