Archive: Author:

By Svetlana Fedotov

European comics are a bit of a mystery lot. Whilst there is plenty of American and Japanese work for fans to pick through, those across the pond are having a hard time breaking into the US comic scene. For every Tin-Tin and 2000 AD that does breach the bloated shores of comic fandom, there are dozens of equally interesting, detailed, and mind-blowing works that we never even hear of. Luckily, indie companies such as Humanoids give us a chance to see what other parts of the world consider to be print worthy. Sanctum, originally a French work published in 2001, brings to life the depths of the ocean and the evil that lurks within all humans and, thanks to Humanoids, invites a whole new group of people to experience its terror.

Sanctum revolves around a crew of Navy men on the USS Nebraska, the biggest, bitchen’st, toughest submarine this side of the military industrial complex. Sent on a mission to the deepest pits of the ocean to look out for Syrian rebels, they instead find the faint heartbeat of a sunken submarine, one that appears to be long dead. Even stranger is its graveyard; a large, cave-like structure surrounded by the statues of dead gods and forgotten monsters. Suddenly, a lust for violence spreads through the crew like a terminal disease and bodies begin dropping one by one. Running out of options and stranded in the deepest part of the ocean, the USS Nebraska has only option: to go into the caves.

The book is a bit of a hit and miss, but is strong where it’s supposed to be: in unrelenting Lovecraftian horror. The overall message of a lurking terror deep under the waters was carried beautifully though the book with a nice reveal pace, as the crew begins digging up clues about their surroundings. It honestly reads like a slow burning movie, letting the crew’s own paranoia push the momentum than over the top gore or blood. Whilst definitely text heavy, it flows very naturally and is a solid introduction to the overall style of European comics. There’s a lot more dialogue than commonly seen in American comics, but it’s not so overwhelming as to take away from the overall work.

The only real complaint was there is no real lead character. It starts off focusing on the captain and then sort of deteriorates into incorporating the whole crew. Usually, it wouldn’t be much of a problem, but every character had the same, basic personality and the personalities weren’t even that interesting. I had no real sympathy for anyone and felt like I was watching a blob of humans slowly drown in mediocrity and bad decisions. The art by Christophe Bec is solid overall, but has that same damn problem that haunts small press comics: blobby inking. Floating or stiff facial features litter an otherwise solid work. Regardless of the finer details however, Sanctum holds up pretty well and translates beautifully into the English language. Definitely check it out.

Review by Ben Bussey

Let it never be said that we have run out of ways to do vampire movies. It has long seemed that just about every new movie that comes along which centres on the blood-drinking undead brings with it widespread grumbles from critics and fans alike about how we’ve seen it all before, everyone’s run out of ideas, and so on and so forth. Well, one thing I should hope most of us will be able to agree on about Summer of Blood is that we haven’t seen another vampire film quite like it. That much we can safely say. As to whether or not writer-director-actor Onur Tukel’s take on the undead in arty intellectual New York hipsterville will be to all tastes is another matter entirely.

Summer of Blood can be summed up with a simple description which I will be neither the first nor the last to use: this is what we’d get if Woody Allen made a vampire movie. There’d be some minor differences, for sure; all the jokes about being Turkish would instead be jokes about being Jewish, and somehow I can’t imagine (or perhaps just don’t want to imagine) Allen filming quite so many sex scenes featuring himself, but otherwise it’s pretty much all present and correct: the simple, almost fly on the wall camerawork, the verbose dialogue heavy with intellectual posturing, the situational comedy centring on a protagonist with glaring personal problems, and of course the affluent New York setting. I can’t imagine Onur Tukel (a filmmaker I must admit to being completely ignorant of before now, though he’s been in the business since the 90s) would play coy about this influence either; while we’re more accustomed in the horror scene to coming across new movies which delight in using John Carpenter’s font in their opening titles, Tukel uses the same font as Allen in his similarly minimalistic opening title card and end credits. Now, if you’re an admirer of vintage Woody Allen, and regard him one of the most singular, personal and interesting American filmmakers of the past forty years, then you may well be able to appreciate what Tukel has come up with here. If, on the other hand, you find Allen’s work pretentious, self-important and boring, I think I can make an educated guess as to how you’ll find Summer of Blood.

Tukel is Eric, an unkempt, unmotivated 40 year old (same age Woody Allen’s character was in Annie Hall, I find myself compelled to note) who we meet in the process of messing up a long-term relationship with Sam (Vanna Pilgrim), who – again, in the Allen tradition – is quite clearly out of his league with no particular discernible reason to be attracted to him. It seems Eric has a hard time committing to anything, be it his girlfriend, his job, or life in general, and while his smugness, superiority complex and lack of social awareness are obvious from the moment he first appears on screen, we only get to realise just how emotionally detached he is by his utterly blase reaction to finding a man bleeding to death in the street from a gaping wound in his neck. Not giving a second thought to that matter, Eric tries his hand at internet dating, more out of his desperation for sex than any sort of wish for companionship. Unsurprisingly he has little success, nor do his unsubtle attempts to woo a co-worker (Dakota Goldhor) result in anything but moments of painful awkwardness. Yet everything changes when Eric unwittingly crosses paths with the mysterious European guy who would appear to have been responsible for the wounded man he encountered several nights before. A bite to the neck later, Eric’s energy levels are up, he’s way better at wooing the ladies, and he’s infinitely better in the sack – but, of course, this comes at the price of him struggling to function in the daytime, and being overwhelmed by the thirst for human blood.

Looking at the DVD cover art (and doing our best to turn a blind eye to the rather ugly photoshopping – okay, that’s Tukel’s head, but those particular women never appear in the film), it’s interesting to note that, rather than the more expected overly enthusiastic review quotes we instead have declarations of the lead protagonist’s socially awkward and unsympathetic nature. An earlier poster took a similar tactic, placing Tukel’s image front and centre and littering the background with review quotes emphasising how utterly contemptible his character is – and a brief web search would seem to confirm there are those who think much the same of Tukel himself (again, as with Woody Allen the line between the character and the real man seems thin). I suppose this would serve to underline that – as with, say, the characters of Sacha Baron Cohen and Ricky Gervais (yes, at last, a reference point that isn’t Woody Allen) – we’re not necessarily supposed to like this guy. Indeed, I’m sure we can all name plenty of much-loved films which boast central protagonists who are less than sympathetic. And yet, Summer of Blood is really, really pushing it. Anti-hero schlubs generally have a certain charm to them, leaving the viewer rooting for the character despite themselves, but I for one really struggled find anything remotely likeable about Tukel’s Eric. I suppose the primary reason for this is that, while Summer of Blood is first and foremost a comedy, I just didn’t find the guy at all funny. This, naturally, is a bit of a stumbling block, and given that he’s on screen for more or less the duration of the film, it makes it rather difficult to get at all invested in his journey from asshole loser to asshole vampire sex god – and makes it rather unconvincing when, seemingly out of nowhere, he undergoes a third act crisis of conscience.

The phrase ‘Marmite movie’ comes to mind. Summer of Blood is not a film that’s going to leave much middle ground, and while from a critical perspective I can find plenty to appreciate (it is well acted, well shot and well edited, making the most of what would appear to be a very low budget), as a viewer I found very little to really enjoy; the lead character’s detestability just seemed to permeate the entire film. There are interesting elements for sure; some may find the film offers a sardonic commentary on modern sexual politics, particularly with the hints at Eric’s latent homosexual impulses. And who knows; some may even find Eric endearing. For myself, I struggled to find the film overall to be any different to its protagonist: smug, self-important, and nowhere near as funny or charming as it seems to think it is. The only other thing I’d add is my surprise at it being slapped with an 18 certificate; the gore isn’t that harsh, the sex scenes are tongue-in-cheek and hardly explicit, and the dialogue is no more ribald than any number of 15-rated comedies we could name.

Summer of Blood is released to UK DVD and Blu-ray on 23rd February 2015, from Monster Pictures.

By Nia Edwards-Behi

I was offered Wolves for review because somehow my esteemed editor knew that a film aimed at teens about werewolves and starring Jason Momoa would be appealing to me. He was certainly correct, and so cheerily I took on the task, expecting a slightly blood-and-sexed-up version of Twilight: New Moon, only without the vampires. Oh, I was ever so mistaken. On the one hand, Wolves demonstrates glimmers of a much more interesting film, in scenes that tease like a stupid person using a big word, only to follow it up with a string of malapropisms. On the other hand, Wolves features dialogue, acting and check-box predictability that at times manages to surpass even some of the worst moments in Twilight.

Cayden (Lucas Till), star high school jock, discovers he’s a werewolf. After a series of tragic events, he runs away to try and find his roots. He finds both family and trouble, and the dangers of what being a werewolf really entails. Working on John’s (Stephen McHattie) farm, he gets to know the locals, including Angelina (Merritt Patterson), learns the truth about himself and locks horns with local tyrant Connor (Jason Momoa), a bad wolf if ever there was one. When Cayden discovers Connor’s sickening plans for Angelina, all in the name of keeping the peace between packs, Cayden decides to intervene.

This film is definitely a squandered opportunity to use the werewolf to explore very topical issues. If I was being generous, I’d say the film demonstrates an awareness of recent events in American high schools regarding unbridled machismo, corruption in the culture of high school sports and the pressure put on boys to behave a certain way; however, this film does not deserve my generosity. Cayden seriously injures another boy on the football pitch, unaware of his own strength as a wolf. He sweetly asks his girlfriend if she’s sure when things get hot and heavy in his car, but when his excitement quite literally unleashes the beast and she tells him to back off, he suddenly can’t take no for an answer and she has to smack him square between the eyes to get away. For me, the scene perfectly demonstrates the frankly offensive argument that gosh, when you start a boy off, you know, you can’t just ask him to stop so there’s no point calling that ‘rape’ now, is there.

I think the film could have really taken this idea and run with it. It could have done something so interesting – as Cayden discovers a new way of life, the painful truths about his family and his real father, and faces the quandary of whether or not being a wolf necessitates doing bad things. The werewolf is the perfect, even obvious, metaphor to explore some of the issues that are tied up in these sorts of current, sad events. Instead, Cayden has a redemptive scene in which he beats up a bunch of thugs who are harassing a woman who had earlier propositioned him, and is later is able to let the wolf free without consequences when he has sex with a lady-werewolf. Near the film’s end, Cayden says to his father, “You did this to me. You made me the monster I am,” and I was reminded of just how interesting the film could have been.

I’m not sure that missing out on some topical social commentary is the film’s biggest crime, though, when it’s frankly just so incompetent. Yes, there is some excellent wolf make-up on show here – if you like your wolfmen more man than wolf, at any rate – but there’s also an abundance of truly awful CGI effects. The dialogue is, at times, painful. Given that the script is by David ‘X2’ Hayter this is particularly disappointing, and the thought of him writing and directing the Black Widow film fills me with dread. My favourite exchange in Wolves unfolds thus, between a group of werewolves: “When is the full moon?” / “Tomorrow night.” / “Halloween.” / “Jesus!” Now. Nothing else is made of the fact that it’s Halloween. That’s the only, pointless, stupid reference to it. More inherently stupid, though, is the fact that any werewolf has to ask when then full moon is taking place. These are indeed wolves who can change shape at will, but lunar forces still have an influence on them. I’ll forgive Hayter the one line that did make me chuckle, however, as John’s fully human wife explains that she’s not part of the pack, she “just likes men with chest hair.”

The performances aren’t up to scratch either, though when the script is as awful this, that’s hardly surprising. The romance between Cayden and Angelina is painful, from the over-blown ‘eyes meet across the room’ moment to the embarrassing sex scene. The character of Angelina is particularly frustrating, as she simply functions as the tired old damsel in distress, there as a plot device to get our hero to act. There’s an obligatory ‘I’m going with you!’/‘No, you’re not,’ scene and when we finally do get to see Angelina-wolf, she kills a man and rescues John, only to send him to go after Cayden and ‘save him’. Do it your damn self, capable lady-wolf! (Amusingly, Angelina-wolf looks like a cross between the Bride of Frankenstein and a badger.) Needless to say, Jason Momoa is completely wasted in this film, although he seems to be enjoying himself in the role at times.

It’s not just the script that’s terrible. The film starts with a voice-over that disappears completely part way through the film. There’s strange stylistic use of really obvious green screen. The soundtrack is distractingly bad. At the start of this film I mentioned Twilight. I enjoy the Twilight franchise, while acknowledging that a lot of it is terrible. Sadly, the terribleness of Wolves does not remotely save it, and instead it only serves to highlight what a wasted opportunity it is.

The film’s climax reveals a bit of a twist in various characters’ motivations and histories. Instead of everything suddenly making sense and the film finally coming together, I was left wondering why a particular character didn’t just mention this earlier and save everyone the trouble. I’m genuinely not sure who might enjoy this film – the blood‘n’boobs aren’t quite enough to satisfy a ‘proper’ horror crowd, and the romance angle is too anaemic for even the wariest teenage girl. This is just a simpering mess of a film that could have been so much more.

Wolves is released to Region 2 DVD on 2nd march 2015, from Altitude Film Distribution.

By Nia Edwards-Behi

Oh, Danger 5. I have some serious feelings about Danger 5. After the dizzyingly entertaining first series in 2012, 2014…er, I mean, 2015 has brought us an excessively wonderful second series. If I thought the first series was batshit, series two has laughed in my face as it tries to escape from its straight-jacket. If I thought the first series paid affectionate homage to film, TV and comics of the past, then series two is weeping lovingly into its collection of 80s paraphernalia. Danger 5 is solid proof that with passion, talent, guts and sheer nerdery, real televisual magic can happen.

For the uninitiated: Danger 5 is an Australian TV show about a group of super-spies whose sole mission is to kill Hitler. That sounds straight forward, but it’s anything but: the first series saw an alternate take on WW2, set in a version of the 1960s infused with the spirit of war comics, supermarionation, kaiju and surrealism. Danger 5 comprises of Claire, the uptight Brit; Ilsa, the amoral Soviet; Jackson, the gung-ho American; Pierre, the suave Frenchman; and Tucker, the nervous Australian. Their commander is the eagle-headed Colonel Chestbridge, who each week reminds them to kill Hitler, and in attempting to do so Danger 5 take on dinosaurs, missing countries, stolen landmarks, Stalin’s moustache, Japanese robo-pilots and a myriad other historical irreverences.

Series two reunites the team after two decades of separation – naturally no one has aged in this time – in the hazy, neon 1980s. I don’t think it’s necessarily essential to have seen the first series to appreciate the second, but it does help in the appreciation of some of the finest jokes, not least of all the inherent humour of Pierre’s re-casting. The other major new addition to series two is petulant high-school student Holly, subject of Hitler’s eugenic desires, and played to perfection by newcomer Elizabeth Hay. The cast is all-round brilliant, and while it’s Natasia Ritsic’s Ilsa that remains my firm favourite, Sean James Murphy almost steals the whole show as the suddenly unhinged Tucker.

The homage and parody of everything 1980s is absolutely pitch-perfect here. Several episodes are dedicated to individual genres, such as the cop movie (‘you’re a piece of shit, you goddamn piece of shit!’) and the high-school movie (an episode entitled ‘Johnny Hitler’), but the whole series is infused with the look and feel of 80s excess. And indeed, series two is most definitely more excessive than the first, befitting its setting entirely. This time there’s a lot more puerile humour (if Hitler randomly pissing on people doesn’t make you laugh, this might not be your, er, cup of tea), but if you enjoyed the tone of series one then that’s unlikely to put you off. It’s not just the detailing like costume and set design that pays homage to 80s film and TV, but the performances are spot-on too. Just as the over-dubbing of series one worked wonders to give it the relevant retro feel, the over-played performances of series two do the same: witness the New Yoik cops of episode 3, or David Ashby’s frankly heroic turn as the derailed and washed-up Jackson. The soundtrack is again a perfect accompaniment to all the on-screen action, and is once again composed by the show’s creator Dario Russo. At some of its finest moments the music seems to be channelling Andersson and Ulvaeus’ Chess – ‘Face Your Fears (Face Russia!)’ – and improving Christmas songs for everyone (‘Winter Boo Ba Boo’).

I don’t really want to review the series’ individual episodes, as I do think the best way to into something as madcap as Danger 5 is completely blind. To give something of a sense of how things progress, however, I can safely say that about half way through watching the series it dawned on me that the level of insanity was only going to increase, and so it did – I sat gawping for the majority of episodes 5, 6 and 7, thanks to the sheer concentration and pace of bonkers jokes and visual gags. Perhaps one way of demonstrating a fraction of just how surreal Danger 5 can be is through another of series two’s new additions: lion-headed muscle man Mckenzie. Officially Pierre’s bodyguard, McKenzie – who speaks only in Japanese – trains up a traumatised Tucker in the art of the ninja, gifts Pierre with expensive cars, mixes drinks and is let down by plot-convenient lion paws. McKenzie is the spiritual heir to Colonel Chestbridge, for sure, and almost certainly works as better demonstration of the tone of the surrealist humour than trying to explain just how much I laughed at a rubber ball that gives advice to Jackson.

When you realise that this series truly is taking in the full gamut of 80s referencing (oh yes, it really does go full sci-fi…and I’m not even giving you two guesses at what ‘Back to the Fuhrer’ might be all about), you might find yourself wondering if Danger 5 is completely jumping the shark. It does go places that I’m not sure any other TV show would, and I don’t mean that in a ‘ban this sick filth’ sort of way, either, I just remain completely baffled as to how the hell Russo and Ashby come up with some of this stuff. The fact that they really do successfully pull off their increasingly mad ideas is testament to their talents as writers and as a creative team. It’s also to the series’ producers’ credit that they have been allowed such free creative control of the programme.

The broadcast of Danger 5 series two was delayed in its native Australia due to an apparently sensitive political climate and certain things that happen in episode 1 (I didn’t even spot the contentious scene, it had to be pointed out to me), but it’s finally being broadcast at the moment in Australia. The full series DVD has just been released, and I’m reliably informed that the first series is finally available on UK Netflix. Seek Danger 5 out in any way you can, and if you can throw money at it somehow, all the better. Who knows what the future holds for Danger 5, but if any level of success for this show means either more Danger 5 or further Russo and Ashby projects, then I will do whatever I can do encourage that success. Danger 5 is a rare beast in an age of high-quality dramas and reality talent competitions and whatever the hell else is on TV now, and strangely an even rarer beast in a climate of dodgy rewindhouse nostalgia. Danger 5 does it right, does it ridiculous, and does it shamelessly. Long live Danger 5, and long may they keep killing Hitler.

Click here for more info on Danger 5’s broadcast in Australia. Seasons 1 and 2 are both available on Region 4 DVD, and various VOD platforms. The season 1 and 2 soundtracks can be downloaded from wherever it is you get your music from.

By Quin

Hungarian found footage? Sure, why the hell not. As some of you know by now, I’m quite often still suckered in to a wide array of found footage films. I take full responsibility for my taste, or lack thereof. But I can’t help it. I appreciate a finely crafted horror film with a tiny budget. The sub-genre automatically gives the low-budget a purpose. Unfortunately, finding the well crafted ones is rare. From the description, Bodom seemed promising to me. I still don’t know a lot about the Lake Bodom Murders of 1960. The film gives a brief overview and sprinkles in a few theories along the way, but I had to rely on good old Wikipedia to tell me more about what happened there. There are certainly more than a few similarities between the Lake Bodom Murders and the Child Murders at Robin Hood Hills. Both have gone mostly unsolved and both have had individuals take the blame temporarily. Each of them also had massive media attention surrounding the aftermath. While in my mind, the West Memphis Three are clearly innocent of the crimes in Arkansas, I have no opinion on the Lake Bodom Murders – and the movie doesn’t move me any closer to having one. I do know that there was one survivor at the time and he wasn’t convicted and tried until 2004. That’s a really long time. And after all of that he was acquitted a year later.

Lake Bodom is west of Helsinki in Finland. The two main characters of the film are media students at the University of Rovaniemi, which is much further to the north in Finland. The film doesn’t leave Finland as far as I could tell, yet the film claims to be the first found footage film made in Hungary. That is way south, across the Baltic Sea, below Poland and Slovakia. Now I don’t know if they shot in Hungary and called it Finland, which is okay with me; but something smells fishy, and the confusion over geographical locations in this movie is just the tip of the iceberg. The movie isn’t bad. It actually gets quite a few things right. But the story and motivation of the characters make crazy jumps in logic throughout. This is normal to most horror fans, I’m sure, and even forgivable. But Bodom doesn’t ever deliver any horror. It’s all set-up, with a twist that comes super late.

Fifty years after the Lake Bodom Murders, two students decide to do their thesis on the unsolved crime. Annikki and Pietari pack up their things and hop a plane for Lake Bodom. Since this is a found footage film, we are lead to believe that the two don’t survive the trip. And as per usual we are shown their shaky cam footage.

Most of what we see for a large portion of the film is the two students bickering with each other. There is almost as much nastiness as in an episode of the Housewives of Beverly Hills. In fact, the drama goes so far overboard, that I really had a hard time caring about either one of them. Eventually we find out that they have actually known each other a long time, and the drama goes further back into their past.

So what is the point of all of this, you ask? Seems like an investigation of an old murder is just the backdrop of some personal drama. Some revelations are revealed. People begin to behave strangely. Two strangers appear on the scene for some partying and then something else. But in the movie’s 64 minute running length, the excitement doesn’t really start until the last 25 minutes. Annikki goes into a trance and when she wakes up, she has no idea how she got there. Then an object referred to as a rattler (possibly like a baby rattle?) is found wrapped up on the porch. It is at this point when Annikki reveals that she has been receiving bizarre and random items like this on a monthly basis for years. Again, I bet you’re asking what is the point? I honestly don’t know. On one hand the movie is dull yet straight forward. But there are so many head scratching details that just don’t make any sense.

I didn’t hate Bodom. It was watchable, well acted for the most part and well directed. But be sure you aren’t sleepy, because there are some really fast moving subtitles. If you are a found footage completest, then this might be satisfying viewing, but overall there is nothing new here. I guess the film will always have the alleged honor of being the first found footage film made in Hungary – but to me, that’s as big a mystery as the Lake Bodom Murders.

Bodom will be released to DVD and VOD in the US and Canada later this year from Continuum Motion Pictures – watch this space for confirmed dates.

By Tristan Bishop

Right, whisper it, but it looks like low budget horror producers may finally have realised that found footage puts off more people than it excites, and not before time, either. The gimmick that was once the go-to for the monetarily-challenged production has finally been sunk by the deluge of filmed sewage which has been systematically pumped into our eyeholes by first-time filmmakers riding the exploitative coattails of hits such as Paranormal Activity in search of a quick buck and to ‘make a name’. OK, well, I’m being florid for entertainment value, and there have actually been many gems in recent years (notably The Borderlands), but few fans of horror cinema will be dismayed that the trend has gone the way of the low-budget zombie film and dried up. But this begs the question, what will low-budget film-makers do now to make their film stand out?

In the case of Grace : The Possession, the creators appear to have taken a hint from one of the most critically-lauded horror films of the last couple of years, Franck Khalfoun’s 2012 remake of Maniac. That’s right – a devil/possession movie shot entirely in first person perspective!

I’ll admit I wasn’t sold on the concept initially, but I was having one of my masochistic days (most days, if I’m honest) and agreed to take a look at the screener. After all, despite being a staunch agnostic, I’m a big fan of the possession subgenre – maybe because it raises questions about mental illness and the darker recesses of the shared human psyche. Or maybe for the projectile vomiting.

Grace (I’ll be referring to the film by the one word title from now on, partly for reasons of brevity and partly due to it being the original title) is set pretty much entirely from the point of view of the titular character, a teenage girl setting off to college. However, Grace has a few issues – she was raised by her religious, domineering grandmother, due to her mother, who we are lead to believe was a woman of easy virtue and little moral standing, being long dead. Grace’s grandmother isn’t very keen to see her go, what with colleges being well-known as hotbeds of vice and all, and makes sure Grace packs her Bible. Of course, a pretty, innocent girl like Grace isn’t going to be able to avoid temptation for too long, and her ‘party girl’ roommate (who swigs vodka in the daytime) and some handsome male students soon have her drinking and attending wild parties. Unfortunately during one of these parties, Grace sees her roommate and the boy she really likes getting it on, and ends up accidentally throwing the girl off the roof of a house (as you do). However, it transpires that Grace has somehow imagined or hallucinated this entire episode, and she faints away. On waking she discovers she is back with her grandmother, who, appalled that she has been drinking alcohol and therefore is as bad as her mother, has taken her out of college so she can better see to the girl’s spiritual needs. Unfortunately this is where things start to get really bad, and Grace fears that she has inherited her mother’s mental illness as the hallucinations continue. But is Grace’s problem slightly more demonic in nature?

First things first – Grace isn’t as a bad a film as I was expecting. However, that doesn’t make it a great film, or even a really good one. Director Jeff Chan has some great ideas, and as a technical exercise the film is actually very impressive; I’ve not been able to find out details about the budget but I’m willing to bet it was very small, and Chan not only pulls off the first person angle smoothly (let’s face it, it’s much harder to do than running around with a camcorder for ‘found footage’), but also provides some pretty impressive effects, especially towards the climax of the film. However the film is let down badly by casting and writing – the unknown cast are actually pretty easy on the eye (it’s unfortunate that we only get to see Alexia Fast in the title role in occasional mirror shots, to be honest) but when it comes to line reading, they’re pretty unconvincing. The ubiquitous Alan Dale turns up at one point to add some proper acting ability, but his role doesn’t really stretch to more than a cameo appearance. The script (by Chan and Chris Pare) could also be partially to blame, lacking any real characterisation, and almost comes off as cartoonish in the simplicity of the dialogue, especially as Grace’s little-girl-lost speaking voice grates a little at times.

So it’s a pretty mixed bag, really – at times I found myself nodding in appreciation of an inventive shot or the occasional disturbing scene (there are a couple of these that work surprisingly well), and at times I found myself groaning at some dodgy acting and writing, but I actually kind of enjoyed Grace. There’s enough freshness still in the gimmick to retain the viewer’s attention, and it does actually add an interesting layer to the film, whereby we’re not really sure for most of the running time if Grace is insane or possessed – having us experience everything from her perspective makes us question every possibly supernatural occurrence. In summation I would recommend the film to die-hard fans of the ‘devil movie’, or those horror buffs looking for something slightly different, just as long as you don’t expect the earth.

Grace: the Possession is out now on DVD from Sony.

By Ben Bussey

What with the likes of Willow Creek and Exists, Bigfoot horror seems to be quite the in thing of late, so it’s small wonder that other cryptozoological legends from around the world would start making their presence felt. And so, representing Australia’s Bigfoot equivalent the Yowie, we have Throwback, the tale of two unassuming blokes who head out into uncharted woodland in search of lost pirate gold – but find themselves facing off against not only each other, but also a big hairy beastie that doesn’t take kindly to uninvited guests. And no, the big hairy beastie in question is not the above-pictured Vernon Wells, though of course he has his part to play.

After an 1800s prologue shows a couple of outlaws fall prey to an unseen terror and establishes the film’s key theme of there being no honour among thieves, we skip forward to the present day and meet salt-of-the-earth Aussie Jack (Shawn Brack) and his cockney geezer buddy Kent (Anthony Ring) as they head up the river and off the map on a treasure hunt. Alas, once they succeed in finding the treasure in question, Jack learns the hard way what should have been immediately apparent if he’d ever watched any of the films of his noble countryman Mel Gibson: that the English are bastards who can never be trusted. Wanting all the loot for himself, Kent turns homicidal – but before he can finish the job on Jack, the men learn they’re not alone in the deep dark wood.

First things first – this cover art stinks. There are no tents in this film, the setting is a thick bush (heheh) which is very far removed from the rather airy woodland pictured, and slapping the Yowie’s scowling face dead centre feels almost mean-spirited given the pains the film itself goes to in keeping the creature’s visage a mystery. Poor show, Monster – we’ve come to expect better from you.

Okay, that brief rant over, I must now apologise for wheeling out the standard complaint that almost always comes up in reference to any microbudget horror movie; however, this really is one of those instances when I can’t help wondering how much better things might have been if only the filmmakers had been able to scrape a bigger budget together. Writer-director Travis Bain is clearly striving to make a great outdoors epic that blends survivalist horror with boy’s own adventure, with shades of vintage John Boorman, and maybe just a hint of mad old Mel’s often-overlooked Apocalypto. To a certain extent Bain and co are successful, as Throwback is certainly better written, better acted and far less cheesy than most microbudget horror, and it certainly doesn’t hurt that the North Queensland locations are awe-inspiring to behold. Unfortunately, the low production values really let the side down here. As gorgeous as the scenery is, the DV cinematography can’t help but make everything look cheap – and though the Yowie itself is largely kept to the sidelines (a wise move under any circumstances), the brief glimpses we do get never inspire any reaction beyond “that’s just a guy in a rather silly-looking suit.”

Still, if you can get past that Throwback does have plenty to recommend it. Bain wisely keeps things lean in terms of plot and character; beyond Vernon Wells’ cameo, the action largely focuses on Brack, Ring and Melanie Serafin as the park ranger who inadvertently gets caught up in all the kerfuffle. This core trio all turn in solid performances, and for the most part Bain’s script serves them well. As for Vernon Wells; it’s easy to see why they wanted him in the movie, given he’s quite the icon thanks to his numerous cult roles (Mad Max 2, Commando, Innerspace, Weird Science, Power Rangers Time Force and so on). But as is so often the case with big name cameos in microbudget movies, his character is ultimately a bit superfluous at the end of the day, and not really as amusing as I suspect it was intended to be.

It’s hardly an earth-shattering achievement, but Throwback is enjoyable enough, and certainly marks out Travis Bain is another Australian indie filmmaker worth keeping an eye on. Hope he has a slightly bigger budget at his disposal next time around.

Throwback is out on Region 2 DVD on 9th February 2015, from Monster Pictures.

Review by Ben Bussey

Okay, so we really shouldn’t judge a book by its cover, nor make our minds up about what looks like an absolutely appalling microbudget horror movie within the first 15 minutes – but sometimes you just know. Sometimes all the signs are there from the word go, and there can be no mistake that you’re in for a truly painful hour and a half.

There tends to be this veneer of romance about indie filmmaking, a notion that it’s a breeding ground for true, untainted creativity which invariably spawns singular filmmakers of real vision; so when we’re told a movie like Crying Wolf was made over the course of three years with only £12,000 to its name, there’s a sense that we should be automatically impressed by this. But again, I defy anyone to get just a quarter of an hour into Crying Wolf without concluding that there is absolutely nothing to be impressed about. Lest anyone thinks I’m being dismissive based on first impressions, let me reassure you (not that ‘reassure’ seems the most appropriate term under the circumstances): I sat through the entire 91 minutes, and I felt every second of it like a fingernail scraping a blackboard in ultra-slow motion. Misconceived on every level, horrendously executed, and almost entirely devoid of redeeming qualities, Crying Wolf is without doubt the worst new movie of the year thus far – and though we’ve only just made it to February, I suspect it’s a firm contender for the worst of 2015 overall.

Opening with a largely irrelevant cameo from that seasoned genre icon Caroline Munro (who gets top billing based on maybe three minutes of screentime – not that I can hold the makers of Crying Wolf too much at fault for that time-honoured exploitation tactic), the clunky framing device sees a private detective with an improbably overdubbed movie trailer voice – indeed, from the sound of things there isn’t a second of sound in the film that wasn’t looped in afterwards (and boy does it show) – settling down in a pub with an aged-looking leatherbound book which somehow tells the story of events which occurred, er, maybe the previous week. Perhaps if movie trailer voiceover guy only appeared in bookend scenes it might have been tolerable: as it is he pops up with grating regularity to bring us up to speed on what’s going on in an agonisingly overwritten manner. Now, it’s not hard to see why it was decided that such explanatory narration might be helpful, as Crying Wolf throws in so many incongruous flashbacks and superfluous backstories that it’s almost impossible to follow. However, it doesn’t take long to realise that a) it’s not you that’s struggling to keep track of things, it’s the director and writers, and b) absolutely none of it is worth paying attention to anyway.

The real tragedy of this is that there’s actually the seedling of a half-decent idea in here. Starting out like a standard backwoods horror/slasher, we have a bunch of mismatched individuals heading out into the countryside for a camping trip as some sort of team-building exercise; ordinarily we’d be sure they’re being set up to fall into the trap of a homicidal maniac and/or flesh-hungry monster. But the twist here is that rather than being in danger, these guys are the danger (Breaking Bad reference in no way a reflection of quality here), as they are the werewolves of the title out for a weekend’s hunt. Handled differently, this might have been a compelling concept, but – as I suspect you’ve gathered by now – the only compulsion it leaves one with here is the urge to gouge out your own eyeballs and puncture your eardrums rather than have to endure anymore of this torture. The characters are the least endearing, two-dimensional cardboard cutout caricatures you’ve ever seen, spewing reams of vomitous dialogue into festering piles of execrable subplots, all brought to almost-life by actors who either have no business in front of a camera or were given the worst direction imaginable (bit of both, I suspect). The ‘comedy’ and ‘horror’ are almost entirely absent; about the nearest it ever comes to raising a smirk is when an old geezer mentions going out with another character’s mum who “liked it up the wrong ‘un” (but then, I’m easily pleased when it comes to cheap humour). And on the horror side, the werewolf design is atrocious, the CGI with which most of it is brought to life is utterly tenth-rate, and you’ll find more suspense and scares in your average CBeebies programme.

Okay, so it does boast a few passable moments of practical gore, and there is a smidgen of your standard gratuitous nudity (topless sunbathing, in the shade? Really?), but even I’m not so easily pleased as to give Crying Wolf a free pass for that alone when everything else is so… damn, I think I’ve run out of synonyms for ‘very bad.’ Hang on, let me consult Google thesaurus: awful, dreadful, terrible, frightful, lamentable, disgusting, deplorable, disgraceful, reprehensible, shameful, abominable, abhorrent, loathsome, odious, heinous, hateful, detestable, despicable, foul, vile, scandalous, contemptible, repugnant, repellent, revolting, unspeakable, wretched, abysmal, diabolical, shocking, rotten, woeful, lousy, dire, the pits, God-awful, chronic, pants, a load of pants (these came up in Google thesaurus, honestly), crap, shit, egregious.

You get the picture. Crying Wolf doesn’t have a release date set but I wouldn’t worry too much about that as this is one to avoid at all costs.

(Note: the poster art mentions the film being in 3D; I didn’t see it in this format, and I can’t imagine how it would in any way change the quality of the film. You know what they say about polishing a turd.)

By Tristan Bishop

Those of us who have been horror fans for a number of years tend to be immune to most attempted ‘scares’, mostly because we know the tropes all too well and can read the signposts to the next shock moment. So whilst the average viewer might be jumping out of their chair in surprise, we find ourselves with a contented smile enjoying the familiar signalling and revealing, often able to guess the exact second when a film is about to try and scare the living wits out of you (and how it might be going to do it). The process of watching a horror film can therefore become an exercise in ticking off the expected tropes of the genre. But occasionally a film comes along which pulls the rug out from under our feet and leaves us stranded at the proverbial sea, clutching desperately for the lifebelt of a predictable story development. If you’ll forgive me for the dodgy metaphor, I’m trying to tell you that It Follows is one of those films. In plainer terms, it’ll scare the crap out of you.

David Robert Mitchell’s second feature film (after the indie comedy The Myth Of The American Sleepover) finds us in Detroit, following 19 year old Jay (a very engaging Maika Monroe), a normal girl who likes swimming in her outside pool and hanging with her friends and sister watching 50’s sci-fi movies. Jay has arranged a date with a 21 year old chap, but when they go to the cinema (replete with live organ player!) he sees something that freaks him out and they leave. Suspecting an ex-girlfriend to have been on the scene, Jay nevertheless agrees to another date. This one appears to go slightly better as, after a romantic walk through some nearby countryside, they end up having sex in his car. However, things soon turn sour as he immediately knocks her out with chloroform. When she comes round she finds herself tied to a wheelchair in an abandoned building. Her date reappears to explain himself – something is following him, and he can only get rid of it by having sex, in which case the ‘something’ will start following the person he had sex with. And if the ‘something’ catches you, it will kill you (as foreshadowed in an opening sequence where a young girl flees an unseen assailant and ends up as a dead, broken body on a beach). However, it’s not all that straightforward. Firstly, if the ‘something’ catches its intended victim, it will then go after the original person who ‘passed it on’. Secondly, the ‘something’ is only visible to the person it is stalking, and the people it has previously stalked, and it can take the form of any person, young or old, and often that of people you love. Jay is given the opportunity to see the ‘something’ (at this point a naked woman slowly walking towards her) before her date flees with her and dumps her outside her house. The film then follows Jay and her friends in their attempts to outrun or outwit the supernatural stalker.

It’s a clever little twist on the ‘have sex and die’ trope of slasher movies, of course – but unlike Cherry Falls (2000) in which the killer only preyed on virgins, leaving a town full of teens desperate to lose their collective virginities, this adds an extra layer of moral conflict: should Jay attempt to ‘pass this on’, whilst possibly condemning those she has slept with to death? Or is there another way to deal with the threat? The film offers no easy answers for Jay, or, in fact, the audience; we’re never really given any back story or explanation for the creature, and in a couple of instances scenes are set up and then we are left to imagine them ourselves. Of course, our own imaginations are the scariest things we could come into contact with, and this is one of the ways the film gets under your skin. Mitchell wrote the script as well as directing, and his sure hand is evident at every level here, from naturalistic dialogue for the teen characters (incidentally there are only a couple of very small speaking roles for anyone over the age of 20), to effective camera movements which range from familiar POV stalking to full-on 360 degree pans designed to disorientate and foster an atmosphere of claustrophobic dread. The soundtrack by Rich Vreeland (whose previous work was on acclaimed indie video game Fez) compliments perfectly, ranging from unsettling drones to nauseous screeches, and even some John Carpenter/Fabio Frizzi-inspired synth business. Even the Detroit locations, ranging from Jay’s home in suburbs which look remarkably like those in Carpenter’s Halloween (1978), to the notoriously rundown ‘8 Mile’ are used effectively. But the real scare trump is the Follower itself, who, whichever guise it appears in (occasionally naked or decomposing), disturbs with its slow pace (it always walks) and single-minded purpose.

In the end It Follows works on a couple of different levels – it could be read as an allegory on the difficulty of sexual relations in teenage America, or it can be enjoyed as a straightforward horror film. Whichever way you watch the film however, It Follows is the most genuinely terrifying film in years, and will stay with you long after your initial viewing. Case in point – I exited the screening around 9pm, and the walk to Tottenham Court Road on my own in the dark was one of the edgiest experiences of my life. I swear I looked over my shoulder more than once, although I couldn’t see anything. But that doesn’t mean that nothing was there, does it?

It Follows hits UK cinemas on 27th February via Icon, French cinemas on February 4th, and US screens on March 27th.

Review by Tristan Bishop

Stellan Skarsgard’s 40 year plus career has taken in a lot of different work, from his long-running collaborations with eternal enfant terrible of art-house cinema Lars Von Trier (so far he has appeared in six of the director’s films), to his roles in the recent Marvel Thor and Avengers films, to Hollywood misfires like The Exorcist: the Beginning/Dominion (2005). In Order Of Disappearance fits into the more low-key end of his filmography, but here the actor, now in his sixties, gets to shine in a leading role. Much of the advance publicity of the film has highlighted the likeness to the Taken series (incidentally also starring a man in his sixties), but, being Norwegian, you might expect a slightly different take to the OTT (yet admittedly very entertaining) Hollywood franchise. And you would be right.

Skarsgard here stars as the unfortunately named Nils Dickman (yes, other characters make fun of his name), an unassuming snow plough driver, and a Swedish emigrant to Norway who is the recipient of a good citizen’s award (he is later referred to, amusingly enough, as the ‘good kind of immigrant’). One day Nils and his wife learn of the death of their young son from an apparent overdose, it understandably puts strain on their marriage, and they break up, with Nils unable to accept that his son was a junkie, and his wife stricken with grief that she apparently never really knew their son. Things get so bad for Nils that he decides to take his own life, but whilst preparing for the act, he discovers by accident that his son was involved with a vicious gang of drug smugglers, and was bumped off with a lethal dose of heroin after his friend stole a kilo of cocaine from the gang. Nils decides to take his own form of revenge, and, using phone contact lists and a process of literal elimination, starts to hunt down the killers one by one, eventually deciding he is going to go all out and take down the people right at the top of the chain. He enlists the help of his brother Wingman (a great turn by Peter Andersson), a retired gangster dying of ‘cancer of the ass’ to track down a hitman to take out The Count (Pal Sverre Hagen), the heir to his father’s drug empire. However things get a little complicated along the way, as The Count believes that the people bumping off his employees must be connected to a Serbian drug gang that they had divided their territory with.

Those familiar with the dour twisty genre of Nordic Noir might be surprised at what is on offer here – ostensibly a simple revenge tale with a couple of minor twists, so initially the comparison with the Taken franchise seems fitting. However it soon becomes clear that In Order Of Disappearance is a much different beast. In place of a deluge of neck-snapping action scenes we get character development and quirky dialogue: scenes of the Count complaining about his son’s intake of fresh fruit and vegetables, or two hitmen discussing welfare in hot countries make for an altogether more charming and human film than the Liam Neeson series. In fact there’s a lot of humour here – whilst not the riotous comedy some reviewers have claimed, there’s a strong deadpan, jet black irony running through the film – although I did wonder at a few points whether something was being lost in translation. On a technical level the film is superb – stunning shots of the snow-covered landscape work with an arresting downbeat score (partially by Danish folk band CODY) to create a beautiful yet appropriately elegiac atmosphere, and the sense of place that director Hans Petter Moland (who, like Von Trier, has now worked several times with Skarsgard) creates is one of the most impressive things about the film. Equally impressive is the cast, notably the aforementioned Skarsgard, Andersson and Hagen, but also the great Bruno Ganz in a small but arresting role as Papa, head of the Serbian drug gang. Adding to the character of the film are the small notes that pop up onscreen noting the ‘disappearance’ of the characters from the film, including symbols to denote their religion. This makes for a few amusing moments, especially when we’re left to fill in the blanks when we don’t see any onscreen deaths for the characters denoted in this way.

On the downside the film could easily lose twenty minutes or so, being nearly two hours long, and whilst we’re invested in the characters, the plot developments are fairly predictable, but in the end it works as a likeably down-to-earth spin on the revenge thriller genre, and those who appreciate a chilly smile with their body count will find much to celebrate here.

In Order of Disappearance is released to Region 2 DVD on 2nd February 2015, from Metrodome.

Review by Quin

A couple days after I received a screener copy of In The House of Flies in the mail, it became available to stream on Hulu in the US. So, if you’re a subscriber to that wonderful service, please feel free to follow along at home. Since my DVD copy had a list of extras on the back cover, I figured I’d still go ahead and watch it that way – on an actual television in my living room. It’s odd and maybe even a little sad that I watch very few movies that way these days. And let’s be honest, when you’re reviewing a film that has DVD extras, it gives you more to write about. Fortunately, the film does open itself up for criticism and praise – enough for an entire review – and the DVD extras are where the major shortcomings lie.

In the House of Flies is set in 1988. When we meet Steve and Heather, it’s through a montage of moments out of what could be described as a day date. When they start talking, we find out things are serious between them. Heather wants to get married, but Steve is putting it off because he wants the proposal to be special. Well, he appears to have missed his chance because that evening as they are getting into their car, the conversation stops when one of them comments about the gas-like smell. Our heroes go to sleep, only to awaken in a locked room, located in the middle of nowhere. There is one small window, a few locked suitcases, a trap door or hatch in the ceiling, and a rotary telephone with the dial removed. When they wake, they are groggy and scared. A call comes quickly, not really explaining anything to them, but it makes them quite clear that they are screwed and in for a long struggle. Now they have to figure out how to survive and hopefully escape.

At first, the shots inside the room are tight closeups of the actors’ faces. It takes a while for the camera to pull back and reveal what their surroundings are like. Gabriel Carrer, the director, wisely gives us information as needed. This maintains a certain amount of mystery. He is also very smart about not making the era in which the film is set a big deal. The film never feels like it’s trying to remind us that it’s set in the 80’s – yet the film does feel very 80’s, but only to someone who lived through that decade, not just someone who knows it through movies like Valley Girl and Fast Times at Ridgemont High. There are no cliches in representing the period. Even the outdoor shots at the beginning are carefully edited to fit with the time period. Sometimes I’m an asshole, and I was watching closely for newer cars or extras with a smart phone in their hand to enter the shot, and when I didn’t see one I lightened up and trusted the film a bit more.

The acting from the two leads is strong from start to finish. They are convincing and we care about them. The man responsible for their predicament, whose voice we hear on the phone and coming from the dark a couple times is former Black Flag singer turned actor Henry Rollins. At first his voice could be anybody. He says very little and his tone is soft yet matter of fact. But pretty soon, you can’t help but think, “Yep, that’s Henry Rollins alright.” He’s done a ton of acting over the years and even elevated most of the forgettable movies he’s been in – things like The Chase and Johnny Mnemonic. He’s also been in a couple of great films – Lost Highway and Heat – although his parts were so tiny, they hardly mattered. Here, he’s put into a pretty good film but his persona never quite gels with the rest of the story. We never really fear him. The viewer’s focus remains with the two in peril. We watch as they realize that there is no hope. I was so invested that I was even trying to think of things they could do, but as the film progresses they become more apathetic – the viewer does not.

The DVD extras, as a mentioned, were all pretty disappointing. First of all, the back of the DVD lists director and writer commentary, but I looked everywhere and could not find it. I even pressed the audio button and there was only one main audio track. The DVD has closed captioning for the hearing impaired, but no commentary track. This was a huge disappointment. There is a 40 minute behind the scenes documentary (listed as 45 minutes, but it’s just under 40). This is where we get a lot of the info that would have been in a commentary track, but it’s mostly just fly-on-the-wall (no pun intended) footage of them making the film in a tiny basement. There isn’t much insight directly from anyone’s mouth and frankly – it’s all really boring. We also get to see how Henry Rollins’ character was created. He worked entirely in a studio, in front of a microphone with the director at the mixing board. His dialogue was recorded all at once and the footage shows him just reading each line quickly, one right after the other. There seems to be no context given and certainly no reactions from the other actors. He might as well be doing a voice in a Disney animated film. They never say this specifically, but I bet it took him less than an hour to complete his entire part – like he did it on his lunch break or something. When you watch the film, some of his lines do seem sort of robotic and awkward. Now we know why. They really could have had anyone play this part. Personally, I think it should have been the director. But I guess they wanted a big name like Rollins attached to the project. Another DVD extra strangely missing is the Spain premiere archival footage. I looked and spent a lot of time on it, and it’s just not there. There is a trailer (a really good one too, with excellent use of music) and there are deleted scenes. I’ve never seen any deleted scenes on a DVD that were worth watching. It helps if there is commentary to go along with them, but for the most part you just agree that it wasn’t anything special and it’s clear why it was cut out of the film.

Overall, I enjoyed In the House of Flies. It was well made, and stays out of Saw territory. The darker moments get pretty dark, but stay just this side of exploitation. But as far as movies where someone wakes up imprisoned in a strange place go – Buried from 2010 and Detour from 2013 are the best. The difference is those two depended on a single actor in an even smaller space to carry the movie. With more limitation comes better writing. Also, resolution and closure isn’t always necessary, especially in a horror film.

In the House of Flies is out now on DVD from MVD, and streaming on Hulu in the US.