The Predator (2018)

How many of us really felt we needed another Predator movie? It’s been 31 years since Arnold Schwarzenegger and co first battled that ugly motherfucker in the South American jungle, and while the 1990 sequel has its share of devotees, I daresay most would agree John McTiernan’s original has never been topped. For myself, my main hope for The Predator was that it would be the best entry in the series that I’d get to see on the big screen. The odds were certainly in my favour there, given the only ones I’ve seen theatrically were the first Alien Vs Predator, and Predators; neither of which, I must stress, I entirely dislike, but there’s little question they don’t measure up to what came before (I’ve never bothered to see AVP: Requiem, having never heard nary a good word about it). Still, going in to The Predator, there was certainly some cause for doubt. For one, it’s known that Schwarzenegger declined an offer to reprise the role of Dutch, having disliked Fred Dekker and Shane Black’s script. For another, the week leading up to the film’s release has been tarnished with controversy over the revelation that co-writer and director Black cast a buddy of his, a registered sex offender, in a minor role opposite female lead Olivia Munn. The studio hastily decreed that the scene in question be removed, which accounts for the somewhat stilted introduction Munn’s character gets in the cut that’s in cinemas now.

Yet while all this might be taken as cause for concern, there were also ample grounds to be optimistic about The Predator, primarily the fact that the reins were handed to Black: the supporting star of the 1987 original is now an established blockbuster filmmaker off the back of Iron Man 3, and one of Hollywood’s most distinct directorial voices these past fifteen years thanks to Kiss Kiss Bang Bang and The Nice Guys. Better yet, all my fellow Monster Squad fanatics joined me in instantly losing their shit once it was announced that Black was once again collaborating with Fred Dekker on script duties. With those old buddies getting back together again, surely the writing was on the wall for something tight, punchy and bursting with manly bravado, exactly the way a Predator movie should be.

And I’m happy to report this is exactly what The Predator delivers. It doesn’t even attempt to outdo McTiernan’s film in terms of sweaty, meaty machismo (no two ways about it, this cast doesn’t come close to old Arnie, Carl Weathers and co in terms of musculature), but it does hinge perhaps even more heavily than the original on male camaraderie, with all the bluntness, flagrant insensitivity and fervour for flamboyant profanity that goes along with it. Nor does it go out of its way to hit the same beats as the earlier films: there are moments of obvious fan service for sure, but for the most part the film branches out in some agreeably different ways whilst building on the established mythos. The end result is certainly not without its problems, but I have no hesitation in declaring it the best Predator movie made so far this century.

The tone is set from the get-go, as – whilst Alan Silvestri’s classic score blares – the alien hunter of the title is the very first character we see, heading to Earth in something of a hurry with his own kind hot on his tail. From there we meet army sniper Quinn McKenna (Boyd Holbrook) on a mission that goes badly wrong thanks to the UFO which somewhat unexpectedly crash-lands nearby. A close encounter of the bloody kind ensues, followed by the arrival of some very shady government agent types headed up by Traeger (Sterling K Brown). Knowing that cover-ups and scapegoating are on the horizon, McKenna retrieves some evidence in the form of a Predator mask and gauntlet, and has them mailed back home for safe keeping, before he’s taken in and ultimately dumped on a bus alongside a bunch of other soldiers deemed mentally unfit for service. However, far from being mere mementos, the items McKenna has sent home prove to be very much active pieces of other-worldly technology, and as such very much of interest both to Traeger’s team, and of course The Predator itself – who has company coming.

As I’m a big Fred Dekker fan, I couldn’t help but look out for signs of his fingerprints, and no doubt about it, they’re there. Indeed, if you needed any evidence that Dekker’s voice is more prominent here than Black’s, get this: The Predator is set at Halloween, without even a mention of Christmas. Given that it opens on a conflict in space that comes down into middle America, it’s not hard to pick up hints of Night of the Creeps, a feeling exacerbated by the script taking something of an everything-but-the-kitchen-sink approach. We have Predator vs Predator, Predators vs humans, good guy soldier humans vs evil government agency soldier humans, with room found for a female scientist and an ex-wife who prove to be every bit as badass as the guys, and an autistic child who also has his badass tendencies. Still, should anyone think Black and Dekker are going for political correctness points there, 90% of the dialogue should flush away any such notion, as the script absolutely revels in its inappropriate humour (for one early example, listen out for the real name of Trevante Rhodes’ ‘Nebraska’ Williams, and bear in mind this actor got his big break in Moonlight). It’s worth noting here that, while I haven’t made any calculations or anything, this might well be the sweariest Predator film yet, and it’s also a fair contender for the most gruesome entry, so UK audiences shouldn’t be deterred by the 15 certificate; that’s a reflection of how much more lenient the BBFC have grown, rather than an indicator of the film being watered down.

This heartfelt back and forth exchange of coarse witticisms between an endearing ensemble is the main thing that makes The Predator work. Again, this cast might not be so overtly manly as that of the original, but they’re absolutely the most likeable bunch to have graced a Predator movie since 1987, who bounce off one another very nicely. There’s a very nice buddy chemistry between Holbrook and Rhodes, and perhaps an even more enjoyable interplay between Keegan-Michael Key’s Coyle (this film’s closest equivalent to Black’s joker character Hawkins), and Thomas Jane’s Baxley. Now I won’t lie, when I saw Tom Jane was in this, part of me grumbled at the fact that the old Punisher/Deep Blue Sea/The Mist veteran wasn’t the one heading up the ensemble; while he’s clearly the oldest of the bunch, he could easily still pull off the role of McKenna. Even so, he’s clearly having a lot of fun and doing terrific work as Baxley, and the fact that it’s perhaps less obvious casting is probably a good thing.

Beyond the core ensemble of troubled tough guys, Sterling K Brown makes for a terrific villain, and while Olivia Munn might feel a little shoehorned in to provide both female representation and the obligatory scientific exposition, she’s a hell of a lot less feeble than such female leads tend to be (although questions may be asked of her non-explicit yet still highly gratuitous nude scene). Yvonne Strahovski also manages to make a bit more out of what might have been a perfunctory ex-wife role. Even so, there can be little question that the film slows down somewhat when it isn’t sticking by the core tough guy cast, and the often over-complicated plot contrasts wildly with the streamlined simplicity of the original; again, this isn’t inherently a bad thing, but proceedings do feel a trifle overstuffed at times, particularly in the closing scenes which, far from wrapping things up neatly, are a little too anxious to do that contemporary blockbuster thing of setting up sequels and/or a ‘universe.’

None of this, however, was enough to keep me from wearing a big old shit-eating grin from pretty much start to finish. I realise it’s a cliche to measure a contemporary action movie’s value by how well it recaptures that distinct 1980s vibe; yet, given the source material and the history of its director and writers I think that’s an apt indicator of quality here, and I’d say this is probably the best example of VHS-era sci-fi action in the contemporary arena since Dredd. I realise that the recent controversy and the questions it might prompt about the director’s judgement and character will be off-putting to some, but assuming you’re able to get past that, there’s no reason you shouldn’t have a whale of a time.

The Predator is in cinemas now from 20th Century Fox.

Celluloid Screams 2018 Line-Up Announced

UK horror festival season is once again in full swing, and one of our favourites, Sheffield’s Celluloid Screams, have just announced the films they have in store this year – and it’s looking like a very handsome line-up indeed, boasting many of the most eagerly anticipated genre titles of the year. Nor is it all about the films, as – following on from showing a few episodes of TV’s Inside No. 9 last year – the festival will once again bring a macabre small screen comedy to the big screen.

Celluloid Screams runs at Sheffield’s Showroom Cinema from Thursday the 18th to Sunday the 21st of October, and passes go on sale from noon tomorrow (Saturday 7th September) at the Showroom Cinema site, from whence we cut and pasted the tasty details below…

OPENING GALA: MANDY

Director: Panos Cosmatos | USA/Belgium | 2018 | 121 mins

THURSDAY 8.00pm

Chainsaws at the ready, it’s payback time…

Red (Nicolas Cage) and Mandy (Andrea Risborough) are deeply in love. They live in a dreamlike state of seclusion, a secret world where their bond transcends their earthly existence. But their world is violently shattered when a local cult leader sets his sights on Mandy as his newest recruit, and orders that she be kidnapped from her home by his gang of Cenobite-esque bikers (Cenobikers, if you will), leaving a heartbroken Red to face the devastating consequences that follow.

Nicolas Cage’s infamous performance style reaches new, cocaine-crazed heights in this blood-soaked, psychedelic revenge thriller. Hypnotic and dizzyingly stylised with a thundering score, MANDY is a deeply surreal, visual experience which will leave you breathless.

Screening with CHOWBOYS + RIGHT PLACE WRONG TIM

HALLOWEEN

Director: David Gordon Green | USA | 2018 | 1hr 49 mins

THURSDAY – Midnight

On the eve of its nationwide release, we’re thrilled to present your first chance to witness the return of Michael Myers as he terrorises the town of Haddonfield once again.

Filmmakers David Gordon Green and Danny McBride have carved out a new narrative path leading on from the events that took place in John Carpenter’s seminal 1978 original, giving us a rare opportunity to experience the final showdown between one of the genre’s most enduring villains and his nemesis. And what a nemesis she is!

One of the most exciting elements of this new entry in the Halloween saga is the return of Jamie Lee Curtis as survivor Laurie Strode, who comes to her final confrontation with the masked maniac who has haunted her since she narrowly escaped his killing spree on Halloween night four decades ago. With master of horror John Carpenter on board as creative consultant and executive producer, joining forces with contemporary cinema’s leading producer of horror Jason Blum (GET OUT, THE PURGE, PARANORMAL ACTIVITY), this big screen return arguably couldn’t be in safer hands.

Screening with MANNEQUINS + 3:36

WHAT KEEPS YOU ALIVE

Director: Colin Minihan | Canada | 2018 | 98 mins

FRIDAY – 6.30pm

Jackie (Hannah Emily Anderson) and Jules (Brittany Allen) travel to a remote woodland cabin to celebrate their anniversary. But for Jules, their romantic plans of long evenings and log fires are marred by a flash of suspicion when they’re visited by Sarah, Jackie’s childhood friend, who addresses Jackie as ‘Megan’. Lead by her curiosity, Jules pays Sarah a visit, and learns of a significant death in Jackie’s life which she had no knowledge of. Jules decides to confront Jackie over these discoveries; a decision which will change their relationship forever.

The dynamics of Jackie & Jules’ relationship are brought to life with two superb central performances; meanwhile this film surreptitiously paves the way for some jaw-dropping revelations. A tense thriller which keeps you guessing until the final moments.

Screening with SYBIL

KNIFE + HEART

Director: Yann Gonzalez | France / Mexico / Switzerland | 2018 | 100 mins

FRIDAY – 9.00pm

Paris, Summer 1979. Anne (Vanessa Paradis) is a ruthless producer working in the gay porn industry. When her relationship with her film editor girlfriend Lois breaks down, Anne tries to win back the affections of her former lover by embarking upon her most ambitious film yet. As soon as shooting commences, however, one of her actors is brutally murdered and it soon becomes clear that a homicidal maniac is intent on bumping off her cast one by one. Anne is soon drawn into a dangerous game to track down and unmask the killer before he can strike again.

With extreme imagery throughout and a pulsating score courtesy of French synth wizards M83, Knife + Heart is a lurid love letter to the Italian giallo and 70s exploitation cinema that wears its genre influences proudly on its sleeve. Gonzalez skilfully blends these stylistic and narrative elements with a genuine heart and affection for his characters, which gives the film a potency beyond mere homage.

Screening with MAW

NIGHTMARE CINEMA

Directors: Alejandro BruguésJoe Dante, Mick Garris, Ryûhei Kitamura, David Slade | USA | 2018 | 119 mins

FRIDAY: 11.40pm

Five strangers converge at a deserted movie theatre operated by a mysterious projectionist (Mickey Rourke). Once inside, the audience members witness a series of screenings that shows them their deepest fears and darkest secrets across five tales.

Bringing together five of the horror genre’s most distinctive directorial voices, Nightmare Cinema continues the grand tradition of the horror anthology with five tales that promise to thrill and terrify in equal measure. Comprising a refreshingly original take on the final reel of a slasher film, a shocking tale of plastic surgery gone very, very wrong, an outrageously gory demonic possession, a monochromatic nightmare and a gruesome ghost story, this portmanteau shocker has something for everyone.

Screening with NECKFACE + GWILLIAM’S TIPS FOR TURNING TRICKS INTO TREATS

THE CRESCENT (UK PREMIERE)

Director: Seth Smith | Canada | 2017 | 99 mins

SATURDAY – 10.00am

Still grieving from the death of her husband, artist Beth moves to a remote beach house with her young son Lowen. Her new role as a single parent brings hardship, made all the more draining by the interference of Joseph, her strange new neighbour. As Beth channels her devastation into her art, she detaches from reality. Meanwhile, young Lowen is developing a strange fixation with the ocean, and the terrifying truth about the beach gradually becomes apparent: mysterious and dark forces are watching them from the sea and are drawing ever closer.

The Crescent evokes a quiet intensity in its chilling portrait of death, grief, loneliness and isolation; a haunting dimension where the line between life and death ebbs and flows with the tide on the shoreline.

Screening with MYSTERY BOX + HANA

TIGERS ARE NOT AFRAID

Director: Issa Lopez | Mexico | 2017 | 83 mins

SATURDAY – 12:30pm

Young Estrella has been orphaned by the horrific violence of the Mexican cartels. Lost and alone, she finds companionship in a gang of fellow drug war orphans, and together they fight for survival on the streets. Life is brutal, especially when the kids find themselves remorselessly stalked by a local cartel. Shadowed by her mother’s ghost and charged with a mysterious supernatural energy, Estrella sets off a chain reaction which has deadly consequences for the group.

Director Issa López cleverly juxtaposes innocence and violence in the most devastating way; through whimsical fantasy and gorgeous visual realisations, we as adults witness and comprehend these atrocities through the eyes of a child. TIGERS is a hauntingly beautiful contemporary fairy-tale, with astonishing performances from the film’s child actors.

Screening with THE DAY MY MOTHER BECAME A MONSTER

WOLFMAN’S GOT NARDS

Director: Andre Gower | USA | 2018 | 91 mins

SATURDAY – 3.00pm

While some 80s kids dreamed of joining The Goonies on adventures seeking pirate treasure, others aspired to belong to an altogether scarier club. The Monster Squad came along in 1987 to expose a young generation of movie fans to what, for many, was their first taste of the dark side of cinema. A ragtag bunch of horror-obsessed kids who have to use their geek smarts to survive when five of classic horror villains descend upon their small town? WHAT’S NOT TO LOVE?!? This film had everything a fledgeling horror fan could ask for… even a lesson in werewolf anatomy.

Directed by Andre Gower (who played squad leader Sean in the film), WOLFMAN’S GOT NARDS is an affectionate and heartfelt tribute to this 80s classic. Featuring interviews and appearances from key creatives, members of the cast and its army of fans, the film delves deep into the history and legacy of The Monster Squad, from its concept, production and critical reception through to its ever-growing popularity and reappraisal as a bona fide horror classic. 

We are delighted to welcome director Andre Gower and Producer Henry McComas to Celluloid Screams to discuss the legacy of The Monster Squad in a Q&A after the screening.

Screening with SOCKMONSTER + TICK

WELLINGTON PARANORMAL (SPECIAL SCREENING)

Director: Various | New Zealand | 2018 | 134 mins approx

SATURDAY – 6.10pm

Ever since their scene-stealing performances in our 2014 audience award winner What We Do In The Shadows, we’ve had a soft spot for officers Minogue and O’Leary of the Wellington Police Department, so we’re thrilled to present a special screening of their very own series Wellington Paranormal.

From a mysterious cornfield in the country to the hellmouth bucket fountain of Cuba Mall, New Zealand’s capital is a hotbed of supernatural activity.

Aliens, demons, zombies, werewolves and vampires, they’re all out in force in Wellington. To fight these paranormal threats, Sergeant Ruawai Maaka has set up the first, classified Paranormal Unit of Wellington Police. Now Officers Minogue and O’Leary have been reassigned to the new unit, bringing a wealth of experience and a dedication to keeping Kiwis safe.

Get ready to follow these two normal cops into extraordinary situations and unearth a side of Wellington you might have only heard about in stories.

We are delighted to welcome the stars of Wellington Paranormal – Karen O’ Leary and Mike Minogue – and show writer/producer Paul Yates to Celluloid Screams to introduce this special screening and to take part in a Q&A.

ASSASSINATION NATION

Director: Sam Levinson | USA | 2018 | 108 mins

SATURDAY – 9.30pm

Any film that begins with an exhaustive barrage of trigger warnings for viewers on how their viewing sensibilities are about to be challenged is sure to be a intense and unforgettable experience and ASSASSINATION NATION is certainly that.

Four instagram-obsessed teenage girls are flung into the middle of a modern-day witch hunt when the town of Salem’s residents are victim to a widespread data hack, revealing a plethora of sensitive information to their friends and neighbours. As the townsfolk’s anger intensifies, self-righteous public shaming gives way to a violent mob mentality and as history dictates, Salem’s residents are quick to find a scapegoat. As the situation escalates the girls are blamed for the hacks and face the uncontrollable fury of the local population who are out for bloody vengeance.

Screening with THE INVADERS

CELLULOID SCREAMS SECRET FILM
Director: ? | ? | ? | 90 minutes

SATURDAY – MIDNIGHT

From our first edition where we brought you the UK Premiere of PARANORMAL ACTIVITY up to last year’s UK Premiere of Ryuhei Kitamura’s delightfully bonkers DOWNRANGE, our secret film screening is always something special. For our tenth anniversary edition, we’ve selected another top secret film that we think you’ll really enjoy. As always, the film will be revealed mere moments before it begins, so settle in and prepare for a surprise…

Screening with ACID

LIFECHANGER

Director: Justin McConnell | Canada | 2018 | 85 mins

SUNDAY – 10.00am

Blood soaked body horror meets existential angst in Justin McConnell’s fascinating debut feature.

Drew has an identity problem. Every few days, he has to shape-shift, or face a painful death. He has to find someone and make a copy. He takes everything: their looks, memories, hopes and dreams.Their entire life. He becomes them, and they die horribly. Enter Julia, the object of Drew’s affection. After a recent injury, Drew’s condition becomes unpredictable, and he sets out to make things right with Julia before it’s too late. How do you gain back trust when who you are keeps changing? And what horrible fate will befall anyone unlucky enough to get in Drew’s way?

LIFECHANGER follows one shapeshifter’s twisted quest to repair the damage he’s caused, while leaving a trail of bodies in his wake.

Screening with HAIR WOLF

POSSUM

Director: Matthew Holness | United Kingdom | 2018 | 85 mins

SUNDAY- 12.00pm

Can you spy him deep within? Little Possum, black as sin…

Philip is a children’s entertainer with a troubled past. Together with Possum, the hideous hand puppet he keeps concealed inside a black leather case, he returns to his childhood home compelled to confront his demons. Staying with his cruel stepfather, Maurice, Philip soon discovers that ridding himself of Possum is no easy task. When his attempts to destroy the demonic puppet fail, Philip suspects Maurice of manipulating Possum to cause him further fear and distress. As their relationship deteriorates, repressed memories of a traumatic childhood start to resurface. When a local child goes missing and the police suspect him of the crimes, Philip is forced to confront the nightmares of his past and discovers that the real demon lurks much closer to home.

With an intense central performance from Sean Harris (Prometheus), Matthew Holness’ feature debut is the stuff of nightmares.

Screening with HANG UP!

SUMMER OF ‘84

Director: RKSS – François Simard, Anouk Whissell, Yoann-Karl Whissell | Canada/USA | 2018 | 105 minutes

SUNDAY – 2.30pm

It’s the summer of 1984, the perfect time to be 14 years old and free. But when neighborhood conspiracy theorist Davey Armstrong begins to suspect his police officer neighbor might be the serial killer all over the local news, he and his three best friends begin an investigation that soon turns dangerous.

After the post-apocalyptic mayhem of their debut feature Turbo Kid, Canadian filmmaking collective RKSS return with a sophomore film that is more grounded in reality but no less effective when it comes to its execution. While it’s steeped in the kind of 80s nostalgia that is ubiquitous right now (thanks in no small part to the breakout success of Stranger Things)Summer of ’84 has a mean streak lurking just beneath the surface that enables it to transcend the retro ephemera to create a deeper, more sinister and unforgettable cinematic experience.

Screening with DEEP CLEAN

PUPPET MASTER: THE LITTLEST REICH

Director: Sonny Laguna & Tommy Wiklund | United Kingdom/USA | 2018 | 90 mins

SUNDAY – 5.30pm

Recently divorced and reeling, Edgar (Thomas Lennon) returns to his childhood home to regroup his life. When he discovers a nefarious-looking puppet in his deceased brother’s room, he decides to sell the doll for some quick cash. Girl-next-door Ashley and comic book pal Markowitz join Edgar for a doomed road trip to an auction at a convention celebrating the 30th Anniversary of the infamous Toulon Murders. All hell breaks loose when a strange force animates the puppets at the convention, setting them on a bloody killing spree that’s motivated by an evil as old as time.

Fans of Charles Band’s Full Moon Features and the Puppet Master franchise will undoubtedly already be on board with this contemporary reboot. Even if you’re not familiar with the saga’s previous films, there’s enough outrageous gore and bad taste gags here to satisfy fans looking for a new slice of horror comedy.

We are delighted to welcome directors Sonny Laguna and Tommy Wiklund to Celluloid Screams for a Q&A after the screening.

Screening with RILEY WAS HERE

CAM

Dir. Daniel Goldhaber | USA | 2018 | 94 mins

SUNDAY – 8.00pm

Webcam performer Lola is rising through the ranks of the Freelivegirls website, much to the delight of her fanbase, who spur on her performances via the live chat. However, she suddenly finds herself locked out of her own channel, which is somehow continuing to broadcast a mysterious doppelganger version of her. What’s worse, the new Lola is breaking all her rules around what she’ll do on screen. Confused and distraught, Lola investigates this inexplicable identity theft, which turns out to be far darker than she could ever have imagined.

There’s plenty to unpack in this candy-coloured cyber-thriller; it’s a frank depiction of digital sex work with an intertwined dialogue about the perils of internet privacy and competitive social media culture, with a good dose of intrigue and synth pop.

Screening with MILK + SPECIAL DAY

CLOSING GALA: 7 STAGES TO ACHIEVE ETERNAL BLISS BY PASSING THROUGH THE GATEWAY CHOSEN BY THE HOLY STORSH (UK PREMIERE)

SUNDAY – 10.30pm

Paul and Claire, a sweet, small-town couple with big dreams, think they’ve hit the jackpot with their new Los Angeles apartment – cheap rent in a perfect location. As they giddily emark on building their new life, they soon learn of the real price for their abode: a cult leader (Taika Waititi) committed suicide in their bathtub, and his devotees routinely break in to carry out the same ritualistic act. As finances prevent the couple from moving, they must face the Cult of Storsh head on, and in doing so will learn more about themselves and their relationship than their years together have taught.

A bizarre black comedy which treads a line between dark surrealism and playful absurdity, 7 Stages is a wildly funny ride. But we must ask: do you yield?

Followed by CELLULOID SCREAMS CLOSING NIGHT KARAOKE PARTY

Further details at the official Celluloid Screams site; also, you might like to read our reviews of Wolfman’s Got Nards and Seven Stages To Achieve Eternal Bliss By Passing Through The Gateway Chosen By The Holy Storsh.

 

Miss Leslie’s Dolls (1973)

Talk about a movie in which a car breaks down during a storm forcing its passengers to seek refuge in a spooky old house nearby, only to find themselves the guests of a deranged transvestite who intends to use them for nefarious means, and odds are most people will think you’re referring to The Rocky Horror Picture Show. However, two years before that particular midnight movie first hit screens, that same basic premise was used, albeit with a comparatively straight face and bugger all singing and dancing, in largely forgotten grindhouse schlockfest Miss Leslie’s Dolls. I’ll confess it’s a film with which I had been totally unfamiliar before getting word of UK distributor Network bringing it to home entertainment, but I will concur with their press release that it is indeed a ‘memorably demented’ piece of work that’s likely to go down a storm with discerning connoisseurs of total trash.

The stage is set nicely with a blood-curdling scream echoing across a graveyard on a dark and stormy night, and the fact that the gravestones appear to have been handcrafted out of cardboard makes it all the more pleasing. We then meet Miss Leslie (Salvador Ugarte, whose dialogue has clearly been overdubbed by someone a smidgen more feminine), as she reflects poetically on the nature of the storm, and expresses hopes to undergo something as dramatic and transformative herself, seemingly by means of the young and fresh-looking female corpse she’s just dug up. Next up we meet uptight college professor Alma Frost (Terri Juston) and her groovy young students Lily (Marcelle Bichette), Martha (Kitty Lewis) and Ray (Charles Pitts, the nearest thing we have to a famous face here as he went on to play the male lead in Russ Meyer’s Supervixens). The four of them are driving back to campus late at night, but what with the rain and the muddy road, it looks like they’re good and stuck, with no option but to seek shelter in the spooky old house overlooking the cemetery. Miss Leslie is as surprised to meet them as they are to meet her, but for all her eccentricity (including but not limited to professed occult beliefs, and some sort of shrine in the basement filled with what appear to be wax figures of Greek goddess-type figures), she proves an accommodating host, and soon enough offers them beds for the night. Not that any of them are poised to get much sleep…

Arguably the key quality of true grindhouse is how it takes on taboo, often sensitive subject matter, and proceeds to handle it as insensitively as possible. Miss Leslie’s Dolls is absolutely no exception to that rule, given that its antagonist is a pathologically insane transgender woman. As we all know, the wider audience wasn’t all that ‘woke’ back in the early 70s, so from the get-go Miss Leslie is presented as a total whack job, mixing elements of Norman Bates (notably the gender dysphoria and mommy issues) and an old-school mad scientist, fixated on transferring her consciousness into a beautiful young woman’s body. Naturally she’s pleased to have no less than three to take her pick from, so the question becomes, which one will make the cut, as it were? And, credit where it’s due, things don’t necessarily go the way you initially expect. Even though the slasher format wasn’t quite out of the larval stage yet, we can see a lot of those same archetypes at work, with clear contenders for the final girl and the sinners bound for quick death, yet our expectations are played with in a fun and surprising manner.

Miss Leslie’s Dolls also pushes the boundaries of the day, and comes off perhaps a little more progressive, with its portrayal of lesbianism. Given the one male, three female split of the college group, there’s initially a sense of the women competing for the man’s affections – yet this slowly but surely gives way to the suggestion that they might be more interested in one another, or indeed all of then at once. Still, while this might have been the era when hardcore broached the mainstream, this is not such a film, and beyond a fair number of topless shots, more is implied than shown. Nor, despite the gruesome shot at the top of the page, is there all that much gore on display. The real joy comes from the provocative subject matter, and the flagrantly amateurish way it’s all brought to life, with low production values, patchy performances and dialogue, and long stretches of tedium punctuated by glorious “what the fuck?” moments. The film may drag (no pun intended) in the opening act, but once things hit full tempo in the last half hour, the wait is well worth it.

As should hope I’ve made clear, Miss Leslie’s Dolls is not by any standard definition a good film. However, it’s pretty damn good as bad movies go, and anyone who loves a good bad movie should most definitely give it a look. It’s a pretty bare bones release, no extras on the Blu-ray beyond a small stills gallery, but I should think the film itself packs in lurid pleasures enough to warrant the price tag.

Network presents the worldwide Blu-ray & DVD debut of Miss Leslie’s Dolls on 3rd September, and Digital on 1st October.

VooDoo (2017)

Anyone who’s paid even fleeting attention to the face of horror this past decade, particularly in the low-to-no budget direct to DVD indie realm, will be well aware that found footage has been painful in its ubiquity, and for the most part even more painful in its predictability and ineptitude. Even at the bigger budget, allegedly more prestigious end of the hall, filmmakers who take on the format struggle to produce anything genuinely effective and unexpected: Blair Witch, anyone? Subsequently, viewers going in blind (as I did) to first-time feature writer-director Tom Costabile’s VooDoo is unlikely to expect anything they haven’t long since seen time and again and grown sick to death of, and the opening half hour will do very little to convince you otherwise. However, by the final act, this take on a tired subgenre manages the near-unthinkable and genuinely catches you off guard, going to places you never would have imagined based on the early scenes. Whether or not all of it entirely works is open to debate, and there may be some more pointed questions to be asked regarding the tone and content, but if you’re a horror fan who likes to be taken on a wild ride into transgressive territory, VooDoo is definitely one you’ll want to give a look. Just don’t ask me what the spelling of the title’s all about.

That’s the short review, then. To go into a little more detail I’m going to have to get into moderate spoilers, so if you would rather go in without too much prior information  – which I would recommend – then you might prefer not to read on beyond this point.

For those of you still with us… after a sinister opening involving black magic and infanticide which seems to have little bearing on proceedings other than to forewarn us of how dark things will get, VooDoo introduces us to Dani (Samantha Stewart), a young lady from ‘N’Awlins’ who’s visiting her old friend Stacy (Ruth Reynolds) in Los Angeles. Dani’s never been to LA before, and in common with most found footage protagonists she’s excessively excited and determined to document it all on camcorder, even if that’s a bit of an old school approach in these days of camera phones. As per usual, our leading ladies are determined to part-tay, drinking, chatting, flirting with boys, briefly meeting Ron Jeremy (yes, really); but eventually it comes to light that Dani hasn’t come to stay with Stacy entirely for social reasons, but to escape a bad situation back home. Turns out she unwittingly embarked on a romance with a man who was already married, and as if that wasn’t enough of a faux pas, the guy’s wife is some sort of voodoo priestess determined to get her revenge. Naturally, Dani tries to shrug this off, but when it comes to light that the wife may have followed her to LA, anxiety sets in – and when she can’t get to sleep on her second night, that’s when the shit hits the fan.

And here’s the thing: generally speaking, when a found footage movie reaches the fan-hit-by-shit point, this typically leads to little more than thirty-odd minutes of perpetual shakeycam whilst the person behind the camera screams “omigod” every other second. VooDoo, happily, takes very much the opposite approach. Note the simple tagline on the cover art above: “you are going to Hell.” Normally one would expect that to be a mere figure of speech on a film such as this, which looks to have been made on a truly miniscule budget – but no. VooDoo takes a dramatic left-field turn around the midway point and, after a fairly effective haunted house segment, it actually follows Dani into Hell itself, where all manner of red-lit torments await; and while it all might beg the question of who’s holding the camera while all this is going on, that’s hardly the most pertinent issue by that point. Writer-director Costabile may be happy to tick all the boxes for found footage horror cliches early on, but he and his crew clearly understand that a found footage movie has to do a lot to stand apart – and, as such, a quite-literal hell of a lot is thrown into the mix. A Halloween house of horrors would be an appropriate frame of reference, but think of those insane Bible-bashing ones intended to leave impressionable young Christians traumatised.

There are, of course, a number of grounds on which we might complain of where VooDoo goes in its climactic scenes. For one, we might question just how much any of it really relates to actual voodoo, given how heavily steeped it is in Christian iconography. For another, it is again readily apparent throughout that this film was not made for a lot of money, and the at-times obvious cheapness and flimsiness of the sets, costumes and make-up can undermine the desired verisimilitude (I swear, I have never gotten more use out of that word than from reviewing umpteen found footage movies this past decade). However, most likely of all are complaints over the – ‘ulp – problematic nature of the tortures Dani endures. It may well be that we are intended to join this character on an odyssey into terror and share in her pain and despair every long minute of the way, as with Sally in The Texas Chain Saw Massacre. However, given that the opening act does very little to establish Dani as anything more than another bubble-headed horror movie victim in waiting, it’s hard not to feel instead that we’re being invited to enjoy the pain and humiliation that she suffers through, particularly as the violence inflicted upon her takes a sexual turn. (Note that this review is for a US DVD release; I struggle to see this one getting by the BBFC without at least a minute or two of cuts.)

Still, providing you’re not too easily offended (a bit of a prerequisite for enjoying horror, I’d say) and enjoy the kind of horror movies that throw caution and good taste to the wind, VooDoo is absolutely one you’ll want to check out. It’s by no means a roaring success, and I’m not sure that the insanity of the latter half quite excuses the monotony of the opening, but I struggle to think of many ultra-low budget horror movies from recent years which aim so squarely for the jugular and hold on quite so tightly as this.

VooDoo comes to DVD in the US from Wild Eye Releasing on 11th September.

Festival Passes On Sale Now For Abertoir The 13th

Abertoir is a film festival close to the heart of Warped Perspective, dating back to the good ol’ days of our former incarnation Brutal As Hell. Taking over the Arts Centre in Aberystwyth, Wales every November, 2018 marks the 13th annual event, and in honour of the occasion they’ve opted for a slasher movie theme, notably with a screening of the 1980 classic Friday the 13th, and none other than that film’s director Sean S Cunningham in attendance as their guest of honour. He’ll be discussing his career on stage with the esteemed Stephen Thrower, as well as hosting a filmmaking masterclass.

Festival passes just went on sale today, and along with this the Abertoir team announced a few more titles – new and old – from their programme.

Lifted direct from the Abertoir Facebook page:

The first films we can confirm from our line-up of exciting pre-release titles are terrific Japanese horror-comedy One Cut of the Dead (pictured below), engrossing and terrifying psychological thriller Cam, darkly delightful giallo homage Abrakadabra (UK premiere) and nostalgic treat Summer of ’84.

Of course, we’ve also promised you a bounty of slashers! We’re not showing our full hand just yet, but we’ve put together a programme of classics that show off the genre in all its glory. We journey from the slice ‘n’ dice campsite antics of Sleepaway Camp and Friday the 13th, via the extra big drill-bit of Slumber Party Massacre and a brief excursion to Europe for Jess Franco’s Bloody Moon before ending up underground for the brilliant My Bloody Valentine, showing in an extra-gory uncut extended version!

There’s still much, much more to come, but we hope your appetites are suitably whetted!

Abertoir 2018 runs from the 13th (fancy that) to the 18th of November. Full festival passes cost £60 – individual film tickets will also be available nearer to the event – and can be ordered by calling the Aberystwyth Arts Centre on 01970 623232, or they can always be bought in person if you happen to be in that neck of the woods. It’s a tantalising line-up so far, and always a fun and friendly atmosphere, so we definitely recommend you get down there if you have the chance.

Dead Love (2018)

Loss tends to leave us with a significant hole to fill in our lives, and, if we’re not careful, it may well leave us open to manipulation. This is the crux of new US indie Dead Love (originally entitled A Song For The Living), which centres on Grayson Low as Brandon, a young musician and train engineer who loses the only real family he has left when his mother commits suicide. Struggling with his grief and plagued by recurring nightmares, Brandon finds solace in a rather unexpected place as a young woman named Fiona (Nicole Elizabeth Olsen), sister of funeral director Caterina (Kate Linder), seems to take a shine to him. Naturally, these sparks of burgeoning romance coming in the wake of such a devastating loss leave Brandon even more confused – but that’s nothing compared to how he will feel once he learns the bizarre and alarming truth behind Fiona’s interest in him.

Directed by Colin Floom and Greg Nemer, Dead Love is an intriguing, atmospheric, and for the most part very well-handled microbudget chiller. It may run the risk of alienating a portion of its likely audience, as it largely eschews the more obvious, visceral horror conventions in favour of something more understated and introspective; but then again, that might well make the film more in tune with the dominant mood of the genre in 2018, this being the year of A Quiet Place, Hereditary and the like. That said, if we’re using comparatively recent mainstream genre fare as a point of reference, Dead Love might well share the most common ground with del Toro’s Crimson Peak, in that, while it certainly has its supernatural horror elements, it is above all else a Gothic romance, focused primarily on the troubled love story at its centre.

Of course, when ultra-cheap independent productions such as this attempt more sophisticated, emotional takes on horror, they run another significant risk of failing badly thanks to inexperienced and/or inadequate actors; but happily, this is most definitely not the case here. This may be the debut feature of both Grayson Low and Nicole Elizabeth Olsen, but neither one comes up wanting in terms of screen charisma, dramatic weight, and – most importantly under the circumstances – on-screen sexual chemistry. This, I hasten to add, is not to suggest that Dead Love should be considered an erotic thriller; certainly there are hints of that, but these are neither the focal point, nor to be frank the most well-handled scenes in the film. Both the direction and the script from Emanuel Isler and Chad Israel are more interested in the emotional bond between Brandon and Fiona; or perhaps more accurately, the emotional needs of the two, as he struggles with loss, loneliness and existential anxiety, and she… well, I’m going to avoid specifics there for the sake of spoilers. Suffice to say, it’s not the most unique horror twist in recent memory (I could name a number of specific films that venture into similar territory, but that alone would feel too spoilerish!), but it is handled in an effective, agreeably low-key way.

Indeed, it’s only in the moments when Dead Love ventures into more standard genre territory that it threatens to veer a little off course, particularly a brief sidestep into near-torture porn which I daresay is more likely to induce groans than the desired gasps. It’s also likely that the audience may find their patience tested a little at times, for while it clocks in at less than 80 minutes, the languid pace and lack of action may see some viewers lose interest. However, if you can engage with the film on its own terms – not as a blood and thunder romp, but a sombre contemplation on the nature of love – you may well find it rewarding, worthwhile viewing.

Dead Love is available in VOD in the US now, via Wild Eye Releasing.

Amazon Hot Box (2018)

James Bickert may well be the single best filmmaker in the contemporary US microbudget indie exploitation scene. The writer, director, producer and editor certainly isn’t the most prolific in his field, having made three films in the past decade (on top of his four earlier credits from the late 1990s, none of which I’ve seen), but this limited filmography has established a level of artistry and a distinct auteur identity that very few others working on his level have come close to. 2011’s Dear God No! was easily the best film to come out of the glut of neo-exploitation efforts in the wake of Tarantino and Rodriguez’s Grindhouse, and 2016 sequel Frankenstein Created Bikers – while perhaps a little too ambitious for its own good – further cemented Bickert’s uniquely trashy sensibilities. Bickert’s latest film (co-produced by Brian K Williams, writer-director of another of my favourite US indies from the last few years, Space Babes From Outer Space) sees him venture away from the testosterone-driven bikers and Bigfoot world of his last two films and into that beloved and notorious exploitation realm, the Women In Prison movie. The results are about as grounded, understated and tasteful as you’d expect.

Our setting is the South American island state of Rattica (actually Georgia, doing a good job of doubling for the Philippines). Hapless American student activist Penny (Kelsey Carlisle of Headless and Space Babes), only there because she wanted to help save the turtles, finds herself carted off without trial to a remote hell-hole of a prison, alongside seasoned ex-cons and freedom fighters Jade (Janine Cygan) and Ebony (Kris Donta); no prizes for guessing the ethnicity of those characters.

The trio promptly find themselves at the mercy of both sadistic warden Inga Von Krupp and alpha bitch convict Val (Ellie Church and Tristan Risk respectively, both of whom previously worked with Bickert on Frankenstein Created Bikers). However, corruption in the Rattica prison goes beyond human rights violations, as the jail also plays host to one Jett Bryant (the mighty-bearded leading man of Dear God No! and FCB, once again playing under his own name), an American drug smuggler who, through a bizarre series of events, has somehow found himself declared President of Rattica. This has royally pissed off US intelligence, who have sent super-spy assassin Agent Sixx (Jordan Phipps, another FCB alumnus) to take ‘El Presidente’ out. But of course, there’s a lot more going on than meets the eye, including bizarre and immoral experimentation, and something that looks an awful lot like a zombie.

Bickert’s existing body of work has established that he has an affinity for the tone and content of 1970s schlock cinema that goes way beyond the Austin Powers-ish affectations of so many would-be modern grindhouse films. More than this, it has also established Bickert as a genuinely witty writer and director, who delights not only in throwing eye candy on the screen, but also filling the mouths of his characters with deliciously lascivious dialogue. Amazon Hot Box very much continues along this same path. The fact that female characters dominate proceedings may leave you anticipating a somewhat different tone to his biker flicks, but really it’s business as usual. Church and Risk have also long since proven themselves when it comes to tackling larger than life, boundary-pushing characters, and are every bit as wonderfully OTT here as you’d hope; Church in particular is in her element as the obviously Ilsa-esque warden with the extravagant accent and fetishistic wardrobe. Given that we’ve broached the subject of fetishism, it’s worth noting that, yes, Bickert has merrily embraced the sexploitation aspects that the WIP format has always been synonymous with, although this film’s take on that most time-honoured staple of the genre – the catfight in the showers (involving another Space Babes From Outer Space star, Alyss Winkler) – might be a bit harder-edged than expected.

My principle complaint of Frankenstein Created Bikers was that it was a little overstuffed, running upwards of 2 hours with an excess of intertwining story threads that got exhausting. Amazon Hot Box at times seems to be running that same risk, but I think it balances things out a lot better. For one, it comes in at a far more svelte 85 minutes; for another, WIP movies always tended to haphazardly balance multiple threads, with a revolutionary uprising almost always coming into the equation somewhere. Jett Bryant’s scenes, being most heavily associated with the political intrigue elements, might feel a little disconnected from all the women behind bars action, but they also offer a droll commentary on the inherent absurdity of proceedings: Bryant, too, has proven himself a dab hand at delivering Bickert’s dialogue, which I guess explains why the director keeps on bringing him back and casting him as himself; although this particular Jett Bryant is a somewhat nicer guy than his predecessor, given that he makes a point of treating women a whole lot better. The same cannot be said of yet another returning DGN/FCB actor, Paul McComiskey, who plays – would you believe it – a creepy mad scientist.

I realise I’ve spent the bulk of this review comparing and contrasting Amazon Hot Box to Bickert’s earlier films, but anyone who’s as-yet unfamiliar with his work, or indeed the earlier films of any of the cast, shouldn’t feel discouraged. This is simple, accessible, hugely enjoyable trash cinema with a wink in its eye, a tongue in its cheek and a doobie in its lips. If you enjoy trash talk, babes, brawls, blood, and stuff getting blown up (and don’t mind that not all of it looks particularly realistic; this is super low-budget after all), then you’re sure have a blast.

Amazon Hot Box is available on Blu-ray from 11th September; pre-order here.

Death Line (1972)

Everyone and their mums will tell you that the slasher genre came into being in the mid-1970s; building primarily on the legacy of Hitchcock’s Psycho, such down and dirty independent productions like Last House on the Left and The Texas Chain Saw Massacre laid the groundwork for the innumerable stab-happy B-movies which came in the wake of John Carpenter’s Halloween. Conventional wisdom also tends to point toward the slasher not only being a product of its time, but of its place: the subgenre seems uniquely American in a way that earlier, more Gothic horror formats do not.

Of course, conventional wisdom is something we should always be wary of, for more often than not a little bit of digging can present a radically different picture. After all, whilst Psycho is oftentimes classed as the first slasher, this can also be argued of Michael Powell’s then-hugely controversial British shocker Peeping Tom, also made in 1960. On top of which, there are more than a few other British productions which came in the years ahead which clearly indicate the gradual evolution of the slasher format, many of which tend to be forgotten today: 1971 Hammer production Hands of the Ripper, 1972’s The Fiend (AKA Beware My Brethren) – and another 1972 production, Death Line, otherwise known as Raw Meat. Although, just to muddy the waters in the ‘Britain invented the slasher movie’ debate, Death Line was very much a transatlantic work: while made and shot in the UK with an almost entirely domestic cast and crew, it was produced by an uncredited Alan Ladd Jr (Hollywood bigwig whose CV would later include Police Academy, Braveheart and Gone Baby Gone), and was the first feature from Chicago-born director Gary Sherman (Dead and Buried, Poltergeist III).

An ultra-sleazy atmosphere is established from the get-go, as we open to the sound of sordid synthesizers hammering out a stripperish rhythm, whilst the camera pulls in and out of focus on the lurid window displays in a succession of Soho night spots, all ‘girls girls girls’ and the like. We see an unidentified upper class gent in a suit, bowler hat and neat moustache strolling between said establishments, taking in the sights and clearly getting in the mood for a bit of how’s your father. Venturing down to the London Underground to get the tube, the good old boy’s evening takes a turn for the worse after a proposition to a suspected prostitute doesn’t go the way he hoped; but this turns out to be the least of his problems. Soon thereafter, university student Patricia (Sharon Gurney) and her American boyfriend Alex (David Ladd, half-brother of producer Alan Ladd Jr) get off the train on their way home to find this stranger lying unconscious on the stairs. While Alex would rather not get involved, Patricia insists they do something to help; but after they fetch a policeman, they return to the scene only to find the man has vanished. As the man in question turns out to be a well to-do civil servant and OBE, this makes the case a matter of great interest to local copper Inspector Calhoun (Donald Pleasance). But no one can begin to suspect the shocking truth: that there is a deformed, deranged, diseased man (Hugh Armstrong) living in a long-since abandoned tube station nearby, venturing out now and then in search of food, and human contact.

It’s quite an eye-opener that this film was in cinemas two years prior to Hooper’s TCM, and a full five years before Craven’s The Hills Have Eyes, as so many of the tropes we primarily identify with those films are in evidence here. Armstrong’s antagonist, credited only as ‘The Man,’ is a different kind of monster for a more socially conscious era; a casualty of industry, illness and class inequality, this latter point emphasised most pointedly by his first victim being an upper class twit. Beyond the political overtones, the Man and his methods are astonishingly gruesome for a UK production of the time: the pustulent sores that litter his face, the assorted literal skeletons in his closet, and the means by which he incapacitates any would-be threats are really quite repugnant to behold, and if we’re still gagging at it all in 2018, God knows how the general audience responded in 1972. However, there’s also a distinctly tragic element to the enigmatic figure, with echoes of Karloff’s misunderstood Frankenstein monster, and – in his one turn of phrase, “mind the doors” (presumably the words he has heard called most often living in the underground) – we might also detect some foreshadowing for one of the most tragic Game Of Thrones characters, Hodor.

However, this is not to suggest that Death Line is nothing but downbeat, progressive horror emphasising misery and suffering above all else. Not unlike Last House, it’s a curiously schizophrenic affair, contrasting its grim content with some surprisingly goofy humour. The casting of Donald Pleasance is naturally a point of great interest in arguing Death Line’s importance in the genesis of the slasher, given that Pleasance went on to star in the most influential slasher of them all, but Inspector Calhoun is very far removed from Halloween’s Dr Loomis; a gor-blimey cockney copper with a floppy hat, an unquenchable thirst for tea and booze, and an odd fixation on darts; note the still above, in which for no readily apparent reason he uses a dart to remove a tea bag. Pleasance is absolutely hilarious in the role, and seems to be having a blast; there’s a wonderfully off-the-cuff quality to much of his line delivery that gives his scenes a semi-improvisational feel. (It’s also nice to see him share the screen with Christopher Lee, who makes a brief, largely insignificant but nonetheless memorable cameo appearance.) Almost makes one sad that, in so many of his horror roles, Pleasance was only allowed to be the straight-faced purveyor of exposition, with his comedic gifts too often left untapped. And God knows, Death Line’s above-ground scenes really need him to liven things up, as George Ladd and Sharon Gurney make for pretty flat, boring romantic leads, eye-catching Suzi Quatro hairstyles notwithstanding.

This new release from Network marks Death Line’s UK Blu-ray premiere, and the film looks and sounds great. Extras on the disc itself are minimal, but include a video interview with the late Hugh Armstrong, plus a trailer and stills. There’s also an accompanying booklet on the film written by Laura Mayne.

Death Line is out on Blu-ray on 27th August, from Network.

Police Story (1985) & Police Story 2 (1988)

It’s open to debate as to whether or not Jackie Chan has what we can definitively call a signature franchise; one single film series with which he is uniquely associated above all others. Some western audiences might say it’s Rush Hour, as that was the one that finally saw Jackie break through in Hollywood, leading to two sequels (with talk of a fourth, although director Brett Ratner’s much-deserved fall from grace might have put that one to bed). Then again, there’s all those other multi-film titles Jackie has to his name from his original Hong Kong filmography: Drunken Master, Armour of God, Project A, Lucky Stars. Perhaps above all else, though, it’s the Police Story series that both Jackie and his fans keep coming back to. The 1985 original was a bold leap in a new direction for the Kung Fu comedy pioneer, who had hitherto mainly made period pieces rather than American-influenced cop action in a contemporary style and setting (the same year’s US co-production The Protector notwithstanding, although that film from James ‘The Exterminator’ Glickenhaus is generally considered a misfire). A direct sequel followed in 1988, and there have subsequently been a further five films officially classed as part of the Police Story series, although admittedly the link gets a bit tenuous; still, while there isn’t much to directly connect 1992’s Supercop and 1996’s First Strike to the original two films, this can easily be overlooked considering they’re two of Jackie’s all-time best. Indeed, Supercop is a firm contender for one of the top 10 action movies ever made by anyone.

But I digress. The focus right now is on the original two Police Story movies, as Eureka Entertainment release them to Blu-ray in Britain for the first time. Existing fans, still holding their old Hong Kong Legends VHS tapes together with sellotape, will already consider this box set an essential purchase; for those who need more of an introduction, read on…

1985’s original Police Story introduces Jackie as Chan Ka-Kui, or Kevin if you’re watching the dubbed version. A young Hong Kong cop, he’s passionate, impulsive, and of course has a bit of a tendency to disregard orders, and all these character attributes come into play when an operation to take down local crime boss Chu Tao (Chor Yuen) doesn’t quite go according to plan, resulting in a huge shoot-out, and a car chase which goes directly through a hillside shanty town and out onto the open road. This spectacular sequence is among the most memorable of Jackie Chan’s whole filmography, and it ensures you’re on your toes right away. Just as well, as things slow down just a touch thereafter, with Ka-Kui assigned to protect Selina Fong (Brigitte Lin), secretary of Chu Tao who intends to testify against her crooked boss. However, not only does this mean that Ka-Kui has all manner of thugs out to get him and his charge; it also puts him in the bad books with his long suffering girlfriend May (Maggie Cheung), who naturally assumes he’s messing around with another woman.

So it is we go back-and-forth between broad farcical comedy (replete with multiple instances of Jackie getting a cake in the face), and some surprisingly hard-edged action scenes (note the cop in the early shoot-out left traumatised and pissing himself). To the uninitiated, this will almost certainly feel very jarring indeed, but classic Hong Kong genre fare has always been about going to extremes, and it’s all key to the appeal. Anyway, it all builds up towards another equally memorable climactic set piece, in which a rogue Ka-Kui does battle with Chu Tao’s goons in a busy shopping mall. Jackie and his stunt team are at the top of their game here, bounding up and down escalators, crashing motorcycles through display cases, sliding down a pole several stories high, and breaking a shit-ton of glass in the process. It’s eye-popping stuff, and hits so much harder than most Hollywood action when you know just how much time and training and how few safety regulations went into it all.

1988’s Police Story 2 may follow on directly from the original, but it’s a very different film in many regards. Following his arrest at the end of the original (oh come on, that’s hardly a spoiler is it?), Chu Tao has weaseled his way out of prison and back onto the streets of Hong Kong, where his goons proceed to not so subtly intimidate Ka-Kui and May in hopes of revenge. After publicly beating up a bunch of said goons, a disgraced Ka-Kui hands in his badge and gun, but soon finds himself lured back to play a key role in a large scale undercover operation. The result feels rather like a Jackie Chan take on Heat (albeit seven years before Michael Mann’s film), as the focus is as much on police procedures and technology as it is on the usual high-kicking hi-jinks and insane stunts. The plot may get a little overstuffed and things drag a bit at times, particularly as this edition presents the full two hour cut; but the wait is more than worth it once again as we make it to the final reels, with one of Jackie’s most spectacular stunts – crossing the street by leaping from a building to the roof of a moving truck, then to a bus – and a grand finale that trades in broken glass for pyrotechnics, with a showdown in a fireworks factory.

Just in case you’re an old fan of these films who’d prefer the lo-res VHS-era cut you’re familiar with, fret not: both the Police Story and Police Story 2 discs offer multiple versions of both films, with the option to watch the new 4K restorations, plus the Japanese and US cuts of Police Story, and the original HK and UK cuts of Police Story 2. In addition we have the expected deleted scenes, archival interviews with Jackie Chan and Benny Lai; and in a particularly nice extra, we have a 1989 episode of Jonathan Ross’s Son of the Incredibly Strange Film Show, which follows Jackie behind the scenes on production of  The Miracle, and provides a good summary of his career up to that point, in what most would agree stands up as the action legend’s golden era.

Nor are these the only Jackie Chan classics Eureka are bringing to Blu-ray in the near future: keep an eye out for Project A & Project A Part 2 plus City Hunter getting similar treatment soon.

Police Story & Police Story 2 are released to Blu-ray in a limited edition (3000 copies) hard cased box set on 20th August, from Eureka Entertainment. Pre-order here.

The Meg (2018)

It’s telling that The Meg director Jon Turteltaub has declared his intention on finally bringing the long-in development adaptation of Steve Alten’s novel to screens was to make “the second best shark movie of all time.” Yes, even in this age of perpetual remakes, reboots and regurgitations, it’s still universally accepted that no movie centred on sharks will ever be better than Jaws, and in a way we might find it quite reassuring that filmmakers still feel that way. Yet while shark movies may have long since set a pinnacle which no one dares to dream they can surpass, on the flip side any filmmaker with a reasonable budget and a half decent cast and script can always reassure themselves that there’s no way in hell their shark movie will be the worst of its kind; after all, we could reel off scores of low-rent CGI shark schlockbusters, most of them the work of the infamous Asylum, that have set the bar embarrassingly low.

Even so, over the decades we have seen a few notable shark flicks (most recently The Shallows and 47 Metres Down) that have managed to find some middle ground between those points, winding up thoroughly entertaining underwater romps in their own right. Is The Meg better than all of these? No, I don’t think so – but, as was inevitable, it is easily the largest-scale film of its type we’ve ever seen, given that in this instance the shark in question is the Megalodon, a gargantuan prehistoric ancestor of the Great White shark, more than three times the size of Spielberg’s Bruce; and a great deal costlier to bring to life, given the film’s reported $150 million budget.

Jason Statham (whose casting represents the most irresistible juxtaposition of larger-than-life hero and improbable animal threat since Samuel L Jackson had to deal with those motherfuckin’ Snakes on that motherfuckin’ Plane) is Jonas Taylor, a rescue diver who we meet in the process of a mission that goes wrong; owing, so Jonas insists, to an attack from an unusually large sea creature. Skipping ahead five years, we meet the crew of a deep sea research station led by scientist Zhang (Winston Chao) and his daughter Suyin (Li Bingbing), who are exploring hitherto uncharted depths of the South China sea. Breaking through to a whole new level beneath what was thought to be the ocean floor, a submersible discovers an incredible, undisturbed ecosystem – but once they get down there, things go south figuratively and literally. Soon enough, communication’s down and life signs are low. It’s time to stage a rescue – but, wouldn’t you know it, only one man has attempted a rescue at that kind of depth before and made it back alive. That man is Jonas, and one of the pilots on the trapped submersible just happens to be his ex-wife Lori (Jessica McNammee). Naturally, the world-weary soul who swore he’d never dive again is promptly brought back on the job, only to come face to face with the same prehistoric mega-shark that ruined his life those years earlier.

Steve Alten’s Meg: A Novel of Deep Terror was first published in 1997, the movie rights were snapped up shortly thereafter, and in the interim Alten has penned a series of sequels fleshing out the world of Jonas Taylor and company, all of which are great fun in a holiday reading kind of way. Devotees of the novels may be a little disheartened by just how fast and loose The Meg plays with the material, shifting the action from the coast of California to China, and radically rewriting the bulk of the supporting players. Even as someone who’s read and enjoyed Alten’s books, I hardly consider these changes a problem*; we might keep in mind that Spielberg’s Jaws jettisons huge amounts of Peter Benchley’s novel, and all for the better. Also in common with Jaws, the deviations from the text make the film a lot less adults-only than it might have been if shot as originally written. Word is that the studio insistence on keeping things PG-13 was the key reason The Meg’s original director Eli Roth jumped ship (pun intended – though, curiously, he went direct to an even more family friendly project, the upcoming The House With A Clock In Its Walls), to be replaced by the more workmanlike Jon Turteltaub, who’s never helmed anything scary before. It’s hardly surprising, then, that The Meg feels more of an action adventure than an underwater horror movie. (Side note there: if, like me, you’re an unabashed fan of Turteltaub’s National Treasure, keep your eyes peeled for a cute little Easter Egg.)

Yet while Jaws will always seem the most immediately obvious frame of reference for any shark-based blockbuster, there are a slew of other oceanic spectaculars that The Meg evokes more directly. The high-tech submersibles on a mission of deep sea discovery, piloted by a ragtag bunch of old friends, are highly reminiscent of James Cameron’s The Abyss. The climactic scenes of pretty young people partying on the water, not knowing they’re about to get eaten, play like an edited for television cut of Alexandre Aja’s Piranha 3D (which would have given things a somewhat circular quality had Roth directed, given he had a small but memorable role in Aja’s film). Meanwhile, the fancy scientific research base funded by an untrustworthy billionaire is straight out of Deep Blue Sea, The Meg’s strongest competition for the title of second best shark movie ever – and, to my money, it’s failed to steal the crown of Renny Harlin’s 1999 B-movie par excellence. A shame, given that the success of that film was largely responsible for The Meg not getting a green light in the late 90s, plunging it into two decades of development hell.

Naturally, there’s plenty of fun to be had watching Jason Statham do his usual grimacing tough guy routine opposite a formidable CGI creation. There’s also an endearing interplay among the cast; while the hoped-for sexual chemistry between Statham and Li Bingbing is never really there, we do get a nice fraternal interplay between Statham and Cliff Curtis as his old buddy Mac. Beyond that, though, the supporting cast including Rainn Wilson, Ruby Rose and Page Kennedy are never given much that interesting to do. The main problem is, it’s all just played a little too straight. The marketing campaign, with its slew of tongue in cheek taglines like ‘chomp on this’ and ‘opening wide,’ suggested a film with a knowing sense of absurdity (not unlike Deep Blue Sea), and while there are flashes of that in here, it could have done with a whole lot more humour, a bit more pace, and – even within the confines of the PG-13 – just a splash more blood here and there for it to really hit the mark.  Even so, The Meg is enjoyable, undemanding fun, and surely anyone who likes some good old no-brainer action wants to see Jason Statham fight a giant shark at least once.

The Meg is in cinemas now, from Warner Bros.

* The only omission from the novel that really bothers me is that we don’t get to see the prehistoric prologue in which the megalodon takes down a T-Rex. Surely that would have been worth the ticket price alone.

Flesh + Blood (1985)

Paul Verhoeven’s first Hollywood production was in many respects a case of ‘start as you mean to go on.’ In line with the Dutch auteur’s later, more celebrated work – RoboCop, Total Recall, Basic Instinct, Starship Troopers (let’s put Showgirls to one side just now, although there’s a lot to be said for that one) – Flesh + Blood is a film which, taken on face value, seems like a perfectly audience-friendly genre piece, in this case a historical swashbuckler/bodice-ripper, easily sold as a Conan-style adventure movie (the presence of Basil Poledouris on music duties probably helping a bit there). However, you don’t have to look too closely to see that the filmmaker and his cast and crew have a lot more in mind than simply ticking the boxes for an established crowd-pleaser, and while they provide plenty of what the audience paid to see (i.e. the two attributes of the title), they also do their utmost to push us out of our comfort zones with challenging ideas, nuanced characters, and more than the occasional moment of deep unpleasantness. On top of being Verhoeven’s entry point to English language filmmaking, Flesh + Blood might also be considered a key title on the CVs of its lead actors, Rutger Hauer and Jennifer Jason Leigh, helping cement them both as among the boldest performers of their respective generations. (They would of course also reunite the following year on cult classic The Hitcher.)

We open in medieval western Europe, as the ambitious nobleman Arnolfini (Fernando Hilbeck) leads his armed forces in an assault on a city. Of course, when we say Arnolfini ‘leads’ the attack, all we really mean is he’s paying the wages of those doing the dirty work, among them a band of vagabond soldiers of fortune including Martin (Hauer), Karsthans (Hauer’s old Blade Runner co-star Brion James), Orbec (Bruno Kirby), and the heavily pregnant Celine (Susan Tyrell). While they may be a lewd, ragtag, belligerent bunch living hand to mouth and revelling in the pleasures of the flesh with all and sundry, the mercenaries believe they fight with God on their side, with a Cardinal (Ronald Lacey) on hand to dish out the appropriate blessings before they commit atrocities in the name of Heaven. However, on this occasion the greater sinner might be Arnolfini. After promising the mercenaries 24 hours of freedom to plunder the city to their heart’s content, the noble lord has a change of heart once it’s clear the raid was a success and the commoners are unlikely to leave anything for him, hence he goes back on his word and orders the leader of his forces, Hawkwood (Jack Thompson), to force them out under threat of cannon fire; not a duty Hawkwood takes lightly, as these soldiers are his friends.

Unsurprisingly, this leaves Martin and company less than pleased, and following what they interpret as a sign from God, they plot their revenge by hijacking a caravan of Arnolfini’s goods. However, amongst all the wine, meat, gold and finery, they stumble on something of even greater value: the young noblewoman Agnes (Leigh), betrothed to Arnolfini’s son Steven (Tom Burlinson), a man of learning with no military experience. The lusty, amoral bunch think they’ve found a new plaything, but the seemingly demure convent schoolgirl proves a bit more adept at surviving in this harsh new world than expected, and forms a close bond with Martin which throws off the balance of the group. In the meantime, the well-meaning Steven has not given up on his bride-to-be, and utilises his knowledge of the burgeoning sciences in a bid to rescue Agnes.

In this Game of Thrones era, we’re a little more accustomed to old timey tales of warriors and maidens with a great deal more psychological depth and cruelty than your standard swashbuckler, but it’s not hard to envisage this approach backfiring back in the mid-80s when the sword and sorcery genre was at its peak. Small wonder, then, that Flesh + Blood wasn’t a box office hit, nor did it go down that well with critics. Verhoeven himself expresses some regrets about the film in the extras on this disc, in part down to on-set struggles with his international cast and crew (most notably Hauer, who had been the director’s go-to leading man of choice in the years prior, but has never worked with him again since). The director also laments concessions made for studio Orion Pictures, as the original story that he and screenwriter Gerard Soetman (another long-time collaborator of Verhoeven, who since reunited with the director on 2006’s Black Book) was quite far removed from what wound up on screen, and would have centred on the relationship between Hauer’s Martin and his former friend, Jack Thompson’s Hawkwood. However, Verhoeven and Soetman bent to the will of Orion, who insisted the ‘love triangle’ – yes, I’m using inverted commas on purpose – between Martin, Agnes and Steven should be the focal point. While it may seem surprising that Agnes was not always co-lead given how pivotal she is to the final film, there are indications that this might not always have been the case; for one, Agnes doesn’t first appear until more than half an hour in, before which time Martin’s interactions with both Hawkwood and Steven are given more significance.

Yet whilst Agnes might not have been intended as so central a character, she proves to be a compelling female lead, thanks in no small part to the casting of Jennifer Jason Leigh; it’s all too easy to imagine a lesser actress landing the role based on her looks and willingness to strip rather than actual talent, and messing the whole thing up (weird mental tangent: what if a young Jennifer Jason Leigh, or an actress of that calibre, had wound up playing Nomi in Showgirls…?) If you’ll pardon me bringing up Game of Thrones again, we might easily deem Agnes a forebear for Daenerys Targaryen (George RR Martin’s first novel didn’t show up until 11 years later, after all), as both characters initially seem to be helpless little princesses thrown to the wolves, yet prove to be considerably more cunning, powerful and manipulative than we might have anticipated. And of course, not unlike Daenerys, Agnes is forced to use her wits to survive after enduring rape. The sequence in question unsurprisingly ran afoul of the censors on release, but is presented uncut here, and it is of course an unpleasant spectacle which many modern viewers might deem ‘problematic,’ particularly as a romance of sorts ensues with Martin. However, it is very much left open to question what Agnes’s true feelings are, and whether she is simply doing what she must to survive.

Deception – including self-deception – is one of the key recurring themes of Flesh + Blood, and beyond the not-love story this is most pointedly explored via another of Verhoeven’s favourite subjects, Christianity. The film deals heavily with the hypocrisy of wars waged in the name of God, with Hauer’s Martin exploiting the faith of his fellow mercenaries to elevate himself to an almost messianic level, whilst they excuse their every act of barbarity and hedonism as ‘God’s will,’ Lacey’s Cardinal very much included. Verhoeven has long been noted for his use of imagery evoking Christ, and we have plenty of these here, both in Hauer’s rise to psuedo-saviour, and in moments of sadistic violence reminiscent of the crucifixion. Hand in hand with this, such moments also point toward many of Verhoeven’s most celebrated moments from his later body of work, perhaps most notably the murder of Murphy in RoboCop. In addition, the representation of more-or-less gender neutral warfare, men and women battling side by side, was an idea Verhoeven explored further in both RoboCop and Starship Troopers.

It’s unfortunate that Flesh + Blood proved to be Verhoeven and Hauer’s last collaboration: the director explains in the extras that they fell out during production, as the actor – already well established in Hollywood after Blade Runner, Nighthawks and Ladyhawke – did the film primarily out of loyalty to Verhoeven, and felt it was a step backwards in his career. However, much as it’s hard to imagine Agnes being as commanding a presence without Leigh in the role, a lesser actor than Hauer might also have struggled to make Martin so compelling. He might be presented as the hero of the piece, but it’s clear that there’s a lot more to the role than that; while he is not without his admirable qualities, there’s a hell of a lot about him that’s contemptible. This, perhaps above all else, is the overriding theme of Flesh + Blood: there are no heroes or villains, only people acting on their (pun intended) basic instincts, with even the most ostensibly decent of them – i.e. Hawkwood and Steven – still demonstrating their capacity for cruelty and selfishness at times. And at the risk of sounding like a broken record, it’s this shades of grey morality within a landscape where we’re more accustomed to clear-cut good guys and bad guys that makes the film feel quite the trailblazer for Game of Thrones.

Verhoeven completists will definitely want to get hold of this new edition from Eureka, the first time Flesh + Blood has appeared on Blu-ray in Britain. Extras include a feature commentary from Verhoeven, a 2013 interview with the director, 2016 documentary Verhoeven on Verhoeven (slightly trimmed due to rights issues over footage from certain films), plus interviews with writer Gerard Soetman and late composer Basil Pouledoris and an audio interview with Hauer. The first pressing also includes a collector’s booklet.

Flesh + Blood is out on dual format DVD and Blu-ray on 6th August, from Eureka Home Entertainment.