By Admin | December 14, 2004

Misty Mundae is undoubtedly the 21st Century’s first great scream queen, commanding a loyal following of randy nerds and dirty old men that thrill to her exploits in softcore epics like “Lust in the Mummy’s Tomb” and “Spiderbabe.” Mundae has a remarkable beauty and charisma on film, usually outshining co-stars of either sex, and she’s well on her way toward perfecting a persona that makes questions of her acting ability moot. She’s every lonely trash cultist’s dream girlfriend, a naturally curvaceous brunette with impossible eyes who digs slasher flicks as much as you do. She’s Rene Bond with a sneer, possessing the same wholesome, baby-soft sexuality but with smarts enough to pass on the breast implants.

The new DVD-EP released by ei Independent Cinema attests to the strength of Misty Mundae’s fanbase. “Voodoun Blues,” a surreal black and white 16mm student film directed by Ms. Mundae, clocks in at a mere five minutes, but it’s supplemented with nearly twenty minutes of interview and behind-the-scenes footage. This proves plenty of folks are as eager to watch her smoke cigarettes and muse on her inspiration (a creepy old lady gave her the evil eye at the jewelry counter of the local Target) as they are to see her pretty face smeared with blood after a topless voodoo ritual. “Voodoun Blues” won’t be mistaken for Maya Deren, but Mundae might have a shot at being the next Roberta Findlay, and there’s nothing wrong with that.

As a bone-thin combo shuffles through a twangy soundtrack number, voodoo nudist Katie Bordeaux places a hex on Mundae, jabbing a pin into a doll, slicing a cross into her own palm and shivering with pixilation all the while. This makes our heroine’s nose bleed, and she suffers hallucinations and other supernatural phenomena. The execution is solid and Mundae is sincere in her desire to freak us out, but she’ll need more than shopworn “weird” imagery of broken dolls, Hollywood voodoo and Catholicism to take us anywhere new. But give the kid a break … what she lacks in ideas she makes up for with a moody, sleazy vibe and a cockeyed creativity that needs to be flexed. Instead of buying “Voodoun Blues,” perhaps dedicated fans should purchase rolls of raw 16mm stock and mail them to Mundae and her collaborators (both Bordeaux and “Voodoun” cameraman Joe Miller have their own self-consciously disturbing short films included here as extra features). If you truly love Misty, you’ll encourage her self-_expression rather than just gawk at her when her top’s off.

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