Some say horror mocumentaries can be a bit hit and miss. When they work they can inspire a new generation of film makers and shock audiences with their gritty realism. When they fail they are cast on to the pile with all the other low budget, bandwagon jumping flyby nights. I told you so, they say. But it's a testament to the makers of this film, as cannibalism both fascinates and repulses me, that I watched the entire movie with a smile on my face. Or maybe that just makes me a psychopath. Whichever.
Two young film makers have been given exclusive access to the self confessed serial cannibal, Anthony McAllister. He's a charismatic character with a sparkling sense of humour that hides a frightening single minded vision; humans are not special and have no more of a right to live than any cow, pig or lamb.
On the first night they pick up a prostitute. Assuming this is just another job for her she goes back to McAllister's house and as she walks in to the basement he hits her over the head. He strings her up and teaches us his ritual. It's quite meticulous. When questioned on whether or not he gets any sexual pleasure from this he insists not. It's all for culinary purposes.
The scenes with McAllister are interspersed with interviews with the police and a psychiatrist discussing serial killers and the increasing amount of missing persons in the city. At one point they even visit the father of one of his younger victims. This reminds you of the dangerous game the film makers are playing. You stop feeling sorry for them even as you see McAllister subtly luring them deeper in to his world while they remain oblivious. The friends of serial killers are easily influenced, says the psychiatrist, the killer can keep them under his thumb.
The characters are natural and completely believable. Even McAllister is a most likable monster. And like in The Rise of Leslie Vernon, the script is funny, but lacks the glossy filmic sections and is a better film because of it. You get an odd feeling of affinity with the killer when you stop recognising the victim's humanity. They're secondary, on the back burner, quite literally! Then like a slap in the face you're made to remember them through their family's anguish. Full of hope that they will see their loved ones again, but you know better.
Long Pigs is also a comment on our society's "need to know" philosophy. In our quest to know everything we should be careful who we step on in the process, as you don't know who will come back to bite you on the arse in the future. Then cook you for an hour and gobble up the rest of you with a nice Chianti.