Cannibal Worlds [ENGLISH VERSION]

PREORDER – DELIVERY IN FEBRUARY 2026 – FULL ENGLISH VERSION

In 1972, Umberto Lenzi sent his main character, a journalist, in Cannibalis, au pays de l’exorcisme / Il paese del sesso selvaggio on a journey to the depths of hell in the Thai jungle, captured by a cannibal tribe. Heavily inspired by A Man Called Horse, this exotic adventure film tinged with horror gave birth to a genre in its own right, which would essentially become an Italian specialty (there are people eating their own kind in many other films, but cannibal films are quite exclusive to Italian directors). Ruggero Dedodato’s The Last Cannibal World (1977), Joe D’Amato’s Emanuelle and the Last Cannibals (1977) and Sergio Martino’s Mountain of the Cannibal God (1978) laid the foundations, before Cannibal Holocaust (1980) and Eaten Alive (1980) propelled them into the spotlight, within a popular Italian cinema that already knew its days were counted.

The films of the “cannibal cycle” exploit what they denounce. They incarnate the problem as they describe it. They tantalise their spectators while pointing an accusatory finger at them, but rarely to themselves. The cannibal genre, like the mondo current that anticipated it, brings the meaning of exploitation to a whole new level, because it’s not exploiting solely the never-dry wells of sex and violence, but the hypocrisy of Western values, all in a whirlwind of violence and depravity that has rarely been touched by mainstream cinema. Without being the first to deal with cruel murders, violence inflicted not only on humans but also on animals, rape, racism, and many other atrocities, of which cannibalism is often not the worst thing we see, these films crossed most of the boundaries that were inconceivable to transgress at the time… in an Italian society then in the throes of bloody internal strife and political violence unprecedented in its history.

While the Years of Lead inevitably resonate in the cannibal genre, it also deals with the death of a cinematic movement, but also, from a broader perspective, the collapse of an entire industry. The book looks back on the disappearance of a way of conceiving cinema in complete freedom (sometimes in a toxic way). It dwells on the end of an era populated by figures who have long since disappeared, but who continue to quarrel through virulent testimonies, sometimes with biting causticity. It is nothing less than the fatal decline of Western civilization, a crisis that has been going on for a long time.

Today, when we watch these films, we can see them as a repugnant trend of a bygone era, or as extreme entertainment, designed by the best Italian professionals of the time. We can reject or accept them, but let’s not forget that they are much closer to us than we like to imagine, not because of the rhetoric that fuels them, but because of the way—consciously or, above all, unconsciously—they reflect Western attitudes. Through their cruelty and the moral contradictions they portray, certain cannibal films—starting with Cannibal Holocaust—have proven prophetic, highlighting how audiovisual our world has become. “I film myself, therefore I am, therefore I exist.”

To recount how these films were conceived, produced, and directed, and to paint a picture of the context in which they were created, Eugenio Ercolani first went to meet the filmmakers and their teams. He gathered more than 30 interviews, some previously unpublished and others conducted for the occasion, with Ruggero Deodato, Umberto Lenzi, Massimo Antonello Geleng, Sergio D’Offizi, Me Me Lai, Francesco Barilli, Ovidio G. Assonitis, Sergio Martino, Martin Goins, Claudio Morales, Mino Loy, Lamberto Bava, Federico Del Zoppo, Roberto Donati, Massimo Foschi, Fabrizio Merlo, Luigi Montefiori, Zora Kerova, Giovanni Lombardo Radice, and many others.

To take things further and give you food for thought, Eugenio called on experts in the history of Italian cinema: Alessio Di Rocco, Andrea Meroni, Rachael Nisbit, Troy Howarth, Mike Foster, Merlyn Roberts, and Giacomo Calzoni. Together, they made a deliberate choice to leave aside any moral stance and let you, the readers, decide what is reprehensible, presenting everything, both good and bad. You are free to form your own opinion, particularly on the arguments put forward by the directors on the killing of animals. Whether you are a fan of the genre or simply curious, whether you revel in the cruelty depicted in these films or want to overcome your apprehension and finally discover them by yourself, this book offers you a complete immersion and reveal a wealth of previously unpublished information, while dispelling the myths and legends that have inevitably flourished around these controversial films.