The Emanuelle series is known for pushing boundaries—mainly the boundaries of good taste. And when you dive into Emanuelle and the Last Cannibals (1977), a sleazy concoction of sexploitation, cannibalism, and jungle madness, you’re not exactly dipping your toes into cinematic refinement. Directed by Joe D’Amato, the film is a chaotic mishmash of skin, gore, and some of the most questionable plot developments you could imagine. It’s as if someone took National Geographic, added a dash of 70s softcore porn, and stirred in a healthy dose of unrestrained horror.
The Plot – A Sizzling Hot Mess with a Side of Cannibals
The plot (if you can even call it that) follows Emanuelle, played by Laura Gemser, a photojournalist with the investigative instincts of a schoolyard gossip. She’s tasked with tracking down a tribe of cannibals, because, as you do, when you’re a journalist in the late 70s, you go hunting for savage tribes and end up in situations that defy both logic and decency. The set-up is simple enough: after discovering a patient in a psychiatric ward who’s allegedly raised by a cannibal tribe in the Amazon, Emanuelle teams up with Professor Mark Lester (Gabriele Tinti) to find the source of the tribe. Their destination: a jungle full of brutal, murdering, cannibalistic savages—and a whole lot of nudity.
As they venture into the Amazon, it’s almost as if the filmmakers forgot the reason they came. The group picks up new members along the way, including a lady missionary, a hunter, and a guide who probably should’ve been hired by someone with better survival skills. Everyone gets lost or killed by snakes, native tribes, or inanimate objects like bad scriptwriting. We’re left with the sight of mutilated corpses, a random head impaled on a stake, and a sense that all of this could have been avoided by just watching an old National Geographic documentary and not attempting to recreate it in a low-budget cannibal exploitation flick.
Cannibals, Natives, and Inconsistent Plot Development
The film’s glaring flaw is its underwhelming attempt at building tension or, well, having any sort of coherent story. It’s like the filmmakers gathered a group of people and said, “Let’s see how much we can get away with in the jungle.” Unfortunately, they ran with the idea of getting away with it and produced a film that’s as shocking as it is baffling. Cannibalism is the name of the game, of course, but the story’s constant shift from plot point to plot point is a bit like being dragged through a muddy swamp—it’s dirty, it’s uncomfortable, and it takes forever to reach some kind of destination.
Emanuelle and her ragtag crew of jungle misfits find themselves trapped in the cannibal tribe’s lair. Naturally, the film’s climax involves brutal murders, including the rape and murder of various characters, as well as a ritual sacrifice of Isabelle, who, naturally, is impregnated by the tribe as part of their bizarre rituals. Why? Because cannibals need to breed their own sacrifices, obviously. No, it’s not subtle. Nor is it remotely respectful to the culture it’s trying to portray. The entire scenario is, frankly, a horrendous stereotype wrapped in a salacious film that’s more about shock value than storytelling.
The real question here is: why do we care? By the time the surviving characters make their way to the motorboat (after a few too many unearned escape scenes), you’re ready to wave goodbye to them—and the plot—with the same enthusiasm you would have for a mosquito bite. Emanuelle and the Last Cannibals would have been better off just letting the cannibals eat everyone. At least that way, we wouldn’t have to endure the last few minutes of this convoluted mess.
What’s with the Cannibalism?
You’ve heard of the whole “cannibalism subgenre” of films that bloomed during the 70s. D’Amato thought, Why not ride this horrific exploitation wave and throw in a dose of soft-core porn while we’re at it? Enter the world of high art where tribal rituals are as rampant as bare breasts and excessive bloodshed. It’s honestly hard to know whether to feel grossed out or entertained by the nonsensical carnage. You get animal sacrifices, gang rapes, ritualistic cannibalism, and an attempted escape from a group of enraged savages who seem to have no real motivation beyond causing chaos. This is what happens when directors get too comfortable with mixing shock value and nudity, thinking it’ll somehow result in art. Spoiler: it doesn’t.
Acting? Well, They Were There…
Let’s talk about the acting. Laura Gemser, who plays Emanuelle, has one expression: stoic. She’s supposed to be the strong, heroic lead, but really, she’s just a passive observer in a parade of carnage. Gabriele Tinti, playing Professor Mark Lester, delivers lines as if he’s sleepwalking through an academic conference on ancient tribes. And as for the rest of the cast? Well, they’re there to fill in the blanks. The characters lack depth and the performances reflect that. Everyone’s either a victim or a cannibal (and sometimes both, in the case of the questionable plot devices), so don’t expect much more than disjointed screams and predictable deaths.
The only real standout in this mess is the tribe of cannibals themselves. If you’re looking for any genuine horror, the true terror is the portrayal of indigenous people as savages. It’s offensive, outdated, and borderline exploitative, with the cannibals being more caricature than character. D’Amato might have been aiming for gritty realism, but all he managed was a gross misrepresentation of both the jungle and its people, not to mention a film that should have stayed buried in the deepest parts of the Amazon.
Final Thoughts – Should This Stay in the Jungle?
Emanuelle and the Last Cannibals is the kind of film you regret watching five minutes into it, yet you can’t help but laugh at the absurdity of it all. It’s one part sexploitation, one part poorly executed cannibal horror, and 100% frustrating to sit through. There are a handful of shocking moments, but they’re buried under weak plot development, terrible pacing, and performances that are as uninspired as they are unconvincing. If you were hoping for a new Cannibal Holocaust, prepare to be deeply disappointed. In fact, if anything, this film is more like Cannibal Boring-ifest, a tedious trek through a jungle of exploitation clichés and uncomfortable tropes. If you’re in the mood for something unintentionally funny and frustrating in equal measure, this is your film. Otherwise, stay in the city, keep away from the Amazon, and let the cannibals have their creepy rituals alone.
