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Mondo Macabro changes gears a bit with a Flemish foray into the work of a modern literary souse.

The release catalog from Mondo Macabro this year has mostly been made up of films containing Argentinean vampires, windmills full of stone women or possessed Indonesian nightclub singers. However, their latest entry is a bit of a departure for the company - with the film Crazy Love much more of an art house piece than their usual fare. Some may remember this one hitting that US circuit in the late '80s under the title Love is a Dog From Hell; the general idea behind the film is to adapt the work of famed drunken American writer Charles Bukowski into a trio of tales set in Europe. Though the movie lacks the genre elements that characterize so many of the company’s other disks, this cross-cultural interpretation of material sets it firmly within the “wild side of world cinema” territory that they are so wont to explore.

Having seen this Belgian work during its initial theatrical run, this disk afforded me an opportunity to re-visit Crazy Love in its new incarnation and compare thoughts about it against my memory. Surprisingly, after viewing this beautifully re-struck version, my impressions were more or less the same as they were a decade and a half ago: while all of the stories in this trilogy have their merits, they unfortunately diminish in interest as the movie unfurls. This is not to say that the venture overall is any sort of loss, as in many aspects this is the most faithful adaptation of Bukowski’s work to make it to the silver screen — regardless of Crazy Love’s Euro setting. (And hey, it sure beats Barfly!) However, to these eyes the most successful story is easily the first in the set, the second less so (but still quite good) while the third goes and stumbles on its way out.

The initial entry in the trilogy centers on the artist as a young man, awakening to sexuality and cynicism during his upbringing. Though moved to an almost bucolic Belgian countryside by director Dominique Deruddere, this segment truly captures the flavor of Bukowski’s writing on childhood — even though this story has the least direct association with the author’s writing. There’s a palpable sense of lost innocence as the child protagonist goes from believing the cinematic flights of fancy seen while the lights are down to realizing the sometimes sordid and maybe not-always-so-romantic nature of interpersonal relationships. Especially of note in this best portion of the film is the performance of Geert Hunaerts, who plays the role of ten-year-old “Harry Voss” with empathy and skill. Hunaerts brings just the right notes of wonder and confusion to the part, and one truly feels the discomfort that's sharply implied by his body language and reticent delivery.

The next portion of the movie brings Harry Voss’ life forward a decade to his last day of school, as this now acne-ridden young man feels societal rejection and begins to embark on a life floated with alcohol. There’s lots of discomfort to be had during this part of the film, and it’s hard not to feel sorry for this young poet trapped by his horrendous skin condition. This story's set piece is the big graduation dance, as Harry’s friend convinces him to attend even though he is generally ostracized for his countenance. As you might imagine, events are not a smashing success for poor Harry on this night — though he does manage a triumph before settling into the solace of booze.

Wrapping it all up is a tale set much later in Harry Voss’ life, at a time when he has more or less become nothing but a broken down drunk. Starring the same excellent actor who played the teenaged Voss (Josse de Pauw), this last half hour follows the lush through a series of dipsomaniac adventures featuring an old friend and a corpse. As this portion of the trilogy was made first as a stand-alone film called Foggy Night it has a fairly different tone than the other two chapters; and to me this part seems to the least successful in finding the essence of Bukowski’s work. Harry Voss here seems way more pathetic and self-pitying than he needs to be, and there are events that take place that seem more gratuitous and grasping for shock than would appear necessary. Personally, I also find the way this segment ends the movie to be deeply unsatisfying and all too predictable; while supposedly Bukowski preferred this celluloid ending to the way the story that’s it’s based on finishes up, to me it seems pat and overblown.

But disliking a bit about the final third of this film certainly isn’t enough to reject the whole package outright; and there’s so much craft on display that even a flawed finale can’t overly mar Crazy Love’s strengths. Also, Mondo Macabro has given their always loving touch to this reissue - so even though the subject matter differs some from their usual slate, it’s still accompanied by a brilliant presentation and a few quality extras. The widescreen anamorphic transfer is excellent, with only some minimal grain and very occasional print problems getting in the way. The movie’s muted color scheme is conveyed perfectly with this edition, giving the almost expressionistic atmosphere of Derruddere’s document the platform it deserves. There’s also a good half hour interview with the movie’s director, another great 30 minute plus segment on the making of the film and a brief essay on the Belgian cinema by Mondo maven Pete Tombs.

While I won’t hide the fact that I’d really rather that this company continued to concentrate on outré works of international horror (aside: I still won’t rest until Kim Ki-young’s Hanyo makes the cut!), it’s typical that they would attempt to push the boundaries of their own output. Though their reputation rests mainly on their stellar history of mining the many forms of international genre film, they’ve chosen with this release to instead enter a different realm of global celluloid entirely; and though I didn’t find Crazy Love completely satisfying, it’s undoubtedly a worthwhile and neglected piece of cinema. So while this one may be slightly more arty than your average release by Mondo Macabro that’s surely no reason to ignore this fine DVD — and if your taste runs more to whacked out tales of terror, have no fear: it looks like they’re going back to the oeuvre of H. Tjut Djalil next month!