Color Me Blood Red

Lewis finishing his gore trilogy with his most interesting idea. A painter discovers that human blood makes the perfect red and starts sourcing it the obvious way, and the film half-works as a satire of the tortured-artist myth. It is still cheap and clumsy, but the premise has some wit.

The gore is up to Lewis's usual standard, which is to say lurid and unconvincing, but the artist-and-his-medium conceit gives it a hook the other two lacked. Minor, but the smartest of the Blood trilogy.

For people working through the roots of American splatter.