“This is what they call the dog days. The Romans were the first ones to call them that, because they said this was the only time werewolves could walk the Earth after sunrise. Dog days indeed. All the time it’s getting hotter. Ice caps melting. California reclaimed by the ocean. Soon they’ll all be dog days, and it won’t even matter because the whole world’s becoming a beach. The Vacation Apocalypse is upon us. It’s just as Louis the Fifteenth said as Rococo turned into rapture:
‘Après moi, les deluge.’
‘After me comes the flood.’”
An hour-long musical manifesto movie, Bitch tells the story of one woman’s attempts to ready herself for a doom she is sure is imminent. Sarah Stevens painstakingly documents her transformation from an unassuming human into Mantis, a rock star personality, a “Cockroach in the atomic crater”, an unapologetic cannibal queen, a woman ready to emerge unscathed from the clutches of certain death. Mantis leads her audience through a meandering meditation on animalism, androgyny, egomania, malice, cannibalism, karaoke, Ken dolls, and the coming werewolf apocalypse. Fantasy folds into reality and reality resembles delusion as it becomes increasingly unclear where manifesto ends and Mantis begins, and more importantly whether Mantis and her creator are indeed one and the same. The artist becomes both her own artwork and her own undoing as inquisitiveness gives way to obsession and making becomes masochism.
Bitch (Sarah Stevens, HD Video, 55 minutes, 2012)