The main "story" in Singapore Sling is quite openly taken from Otto Preminger's film noir movie, Laura, only interpreted as some kind of bizarre erotic torture fantasy with some pissing and vomiting thrown in for good measure. The "mother" character, played by Michele Valley, reminds me of Isabella Rosselini's performance as Dorothy Valance in Blue Velvet, whilst Meredyth Herold looks a lot like Elisabeth Shue.

The lighting and cinematography are fantastic and the performances, though not exactly convincing are somewhat mesmerising in their own right. Ultimately the pace is rather slow and the satisfying twists and turns of Preminger's film are eschewed. Rather, Nickolaidas chooses to languish in the perversely decadent world of torture and sex for the duration and the story it references is pushed into the back ground and barely evident. It is safe to say, however, that the "plot" is hardly the point. It is my intuition that this reference serves only to further establish the noir world in which the director wishes the film to be situated.

Though it won't grip you like a true film noir would, it is enjoyable enough if only for the tits and ass, great cinematography, and the transgressive moments of erotic weirdness and disturbing sexual violence.

You should see it, if only to say that you have! A guaranteed pleasure for anyone who ever dreamt of seeing Dorothy Vallance make out with Jennifer Parker. :)

As this is my first review for IMDb, I decided to choose something obscure and potentially difficult. Art-house stylistics with Euro-centric sensibilities is what is evident in Singapore Sling. A film-noirish tendency envelopes this production in a attempt to deviate away from the twisted intents of the main characters. Yes it is filmed entirely in black and white, but the aforementioned film noir elements derive not just from this but also through the foreboding qualities of the narrative, the sensual erotica of the deviant femme-fatales that are thrust before us like they were doyens of Marquis De Sade scriptures and the pseudo-psychological revenge/redemption plot that lies within. Make no mistake this is not easy watching, convention is not permitted. It is exceedingly macabre, yet also allowing sexual pleasure to derive from many levels of disgust. The processes of consuming food in this film will indeed disgust you. If that doesn't then the "disgust" will capture you in many other ways. If you are a fan of Transformers or Shreck then stay away, but if you like unique visual experiences then please indulge.

The reflexive urge to label any film that flaunts its own sense of willful ambiguity as "in the vein of Lynch" is an overused cliché in the realm of armchair film criticism. And it's all too easy to overstate the paranoid influence of Polanski on films that take a maddeningly subjective approach to their characters. And it's easier yet to label a movie released in 1990, yet utilizing gorgeous black-and-white cinematography, as a satirical-noir counterpart to Billy Wilder's "Sunset Boulevard" and the black-humored psychological horror of "What Ever Happened to Baby Jane?" But "Singapore Sling," true to its alcohol-blended title, cribs all of these seemingly disparate influences into a bizarre original that, while not yielding the most emotionally resonant result, offers a hypnotic descent into a gradually escalating nightmare. Greek writer-director Nikos Nikolaidis offers a simple setup, revealed through the title character's voice-over narration: for three years, he has been searching for a woman named Laura, and an injury (for which no explanation is given) finds him on the doorstep of a deranged "Mother" (Michele Valley) and "Daughter" (Meredyth Herold), who proceed to torture and degrade our protagonist in all manner of revolting ways. "Singapore Sling" is well aware of its capacity to disgust and provoke, but what keeps the proceedings fascinating (and watchable) are performances (particularly Valley's and Herold's) that take on an inspired madness that convinces the viewer that their actions are consistent with their unglued personalities (and not mere showy torture fodder in the "Hostel" mold). Complementing Nikolaidis's madhouse aesthetic is the black-and-white cinematography, where one beautifully-conceived shot follows the next, and gives the proceedings a paradoxically classy look, despite the sharp contrast with the subject matter. While not without pretension, "Singapore Sling" straddles the line between "arthouse" and "grindhouse" with gleefully mad abandon, its unapologetic weirdness a breath of fresh air.