Human Centipede 2 – review | #Film | guardian.co.uk
These days, the decision to shoot a film in black and white suggests a number of questions. Is it a homage to Renoir? An ode to Manhattan-era Woody Allen? A sly nod to second-generation mumblecore? Or are the body fluids on display so copious and various that shooting in colour would be a logistical nightmare that risks immediately exposing your film as tittering kindergarten controversy of the most daft and degrading kind?
In the case of Tom Six’s latest, it’s the latter. Far better to paper over the cracks with classy monochrome and just smear ketchup at will. And if the world is your iffy oyster, why not stitch 12 people together so they share one digestive tract then force-feed them soup and laxative?