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Review by Tristan Bishop

The coming-of-age tale is one that pops up again and again within the horror genre. It’s not hard to see why – we were all young once, and having young characters dealing with unimaginable horrors is a good metaphor for the way the world reveals more unpleasant aspects to us as we grow up. The film adaptation of Stephen King’s Stand By Me/The Body (1986) and the television mini-series of the same author’s It (1990) remain pretty much the definitive works of the subgenre, and in more recent years such critical and commercial successes as Let The Right One In (2008) and Super 8 (2011) have continued to keep such tales in the public eye. Now along comes Found (don’t run away just yet, this isn’t actually a found footage movie!) adapted from a novel by Todd Rigney by first-time feature writer/director Scott Schirmer, which promises to put a darker spin on the subject matter, arriving on a wave of awards from horror festivals (15 best picture awards, if IMDB is to be believed) and with a welcome boost (for a horror movie at least) of publicity, as the film has been banned outright in Australia (‘prolonged and detailed descriptions of sexual violence’) and censored of a few seconds in the UK (for an erect penis during one of these scenes, no less).

Found certainly grabs our attention at the outset. We meet Marty, an 11 year boy (played by Gavin Brown), lonely, bullied at school and taking refuge in horror films and comics. Marty has discovered that his older brother has an unusual hobby – he kills and collects the heads of (mostly) African American women. Marty keeps this secret to himself, but regularly dons washing-up gloves and sneaks into his brother’s room to investigate the heads kept in a bowling bag.

Aside from having a prolific serial killer for a brother, Marty’s life isn’t all that great either. His father is an argumentative racist (something which appears to have influenced his older brother’s nocturnal activities), and he is picked on at school, which in turn causes the one friend he has to turn his back on him in order to not get caught up in the abuse from his classmates. In the midst of all this Marty’s bond with his brother begins to strengthen, but will his brother’s brand of protection be more problematic than helpful, and will Marty be forced to become complicit in his brother’s crimes?

There’s no doubt that Found stands apart from the pack with an interesting premise and approach: there’s no creeping realisation of the brother’s crimes here, we’re shown what’s going on from the beginning, and the film instead deals with the way the discovery plays in with other events in Marty’s life. The opening scene is genuinely disturbing in the way it plays the gruesome find matter-of-factly, and is probably the most arresting start to a film I have seen this year. Unfortunately after such a solid start the film starts to show a lot of weaknesses, most notably in the acting department. Aside from an impressive turn from Gavin Brown as Marty, the rest of the cast are strictly amateur hour – and it suffers from an underdeveloped script which brings up several interesting topics (racism, escapism through horror, dysfunctional family) but then fails to explore them in any meaningful way.

Added to this, the film just isn’t shot very well – the look is extremely uneven, and whilst some scenes are presented perfectly nicely, others just look a bit naff, with the biggest crime coming from the film-within-a-film entitled ‘Headless’ (which Marty discovers in his brother’s VHS stash), which is totally era-inappropriate, looking like the worst shot-on-DV gore flick you’ve ever seen (and I’ve seen one or two in my time). The era the film is supposed to be set in – the presence of VHS technology and mostly 80’s/90’s film posters (Without Warning, Popcorn) on the brother’s walls suggest a retro setting, but the look of ‘Headless’ (and the presence of a poster for the insane 2001 Japanese zombie flick Wild Zero) serve to bring the viewer out of the spell and badly affect the tone of proceedings.

The negative attention previously mentioned seems odd too. The BBFC’s edit makes sense from the point of view of their guidelines, but quite why it was banned in Australia I have little idea – whilst the themes and actions onscreen are grim enough, the film just isn’t well-made enough to have much impact in that area, and any onscreen gore is entirely unconvincing.

Oddly enough, despite all the myriad shortcomings, the film remains strangely likeable; it’s obviously been made with passion, and it’s rare to see a horror film that approaches things in a new way. It certainly kept me glued to it to see where it was going next – quite the feat as I originally stuck on the screener intending to watch half an hour before bed and ended up staying up late to finish it off. Found ends up as a laudable, interesting failure, but if you’re able to dig beneath the slapdash surface you’ll find a film made with (an admittedly jet black) heart which stays true to itself right to the end, and that’s definitely something to applaud.

Found is released to Region 2 DVD on 20th October, from Monster Pictures.

Review by Matt Harries

Horror, to use the broad genre tag to which we here at Brutal As Hell are beholden, is a form of entertainment that at its most powerful shocks us. Whether it is with a moment of bloody violence, a startling denouement, or the realisation of a barely fathomable terror; horror gains its claw-hold upon our collective psyches by subjecting us to that which we would normally seek to avoid in our everyday lives. As Dark Touch drew to a flaming close, I found myself thinking ‘bloody hell’. Then shortly afterwards I revelled in watching a relatively unheralded film that made me feel momentarily taken aback. Perhaps though, it is the story’s underlying horror that is the most powerful aspect of the film.

Funnily enough, just a few days ago I finally got round to watching Brian De Palma’s 1976 horror Carrie. This story of a marginalised girl who discovers she has destructive telekinetic powers has several echoes in Dark Touch. But whereas Carrie was in my eyes a rather lurid and overwrought effort, Dark Touch gathers its strength by smothering the story in shadow and suggestion. In Carrie the ending is like the watching a slow-motion accident. You can see it coming, see its inevitability. With Dark Touch I was quite never sure which way the story would go. This made the closing scenes all the more shocking. Apart from anything the demise of the characters in that scene is not exactly deserved. Compare that to Carrie, where Sissy Spacek’s Funhouse moment is the culmination of a deliberately instigated campaign of humiliation.

Caution – spoilers ahead.

The question of the complicity, or otherwise, of various characters in Dark Touch becomes all the more pertinent when the core subject of the film appears to be child abuse. It all begins with 11 year old Niamh (that’s pronounced ‘Neeve’ for all you non-Gaels), caught up in a terrifying yet indistinct situation at her home. As a storm batters the windows and shakes the house, a baby (her sibling) cries. Adult figures loom and pace in menacing silhouette, aggression unmistakeable in their every movement. Niamh then runs through the forest and the rain apparently to escape, whereupon she is taken in by her neighbours. Clearly traumatised, she cannot speak for a bloody wound in her mouth. Instead she thrashes and wails incoherently before the shocked and startled family, until her parents arrive and whisk her away. As her father carries her out the door, a bowl flies from the sideboard and smashes, seemingly in unison with Niamh’s terror. Perhaps a first glimpse at the physical manifestation of her fear.

Any doubt as to the source of Niamh’s pain seems to be further removed when her parents receive a visit from their neighbours Nat and Lucas. The visit was obviously instigated by Niamh’s parents as a follow up to the traumatic events that began the film. As her father explains his worry and describes the possible effects of living in an old wooden house in the country upon his daughter, Niamh uncovers the torso of her baby brother who lies nearby. We see ugly bruising, quickly covered up. Her parents angrily explain that Niamh caused the injuries, jealous of her sibling. As the neighbours leave we briefly glimpse the parents looking down from a first floor window, their expressions strangely menacing. Seconds later Niamh appears at the same window screaming. A high pitched squealing sound causes Nat to wince. Does she share some kind of sense with Niamh, a literal sharp pang of unease?

Niamh is later visited by her parents, who move in the darkness of her room hidden in shadow, asking in low voices for their daughter’s trust. Her father begins to undress. Later she lies in her bed, tears on her cheeks, unable to sleep. The house begins to creak and shake. She steps from her bed as the disturbance seems to increase in intensity along with her tears. She takes her baby brother in her arms as pandemonium ensues; fixtures rip themselves from walls, light bulbs flare and break. Niamh’s parents wake but furniture smashes into her father, crushing his legs; a chandelier explodes, slicing her mother’s flesh. Flames erupt and they meet their grisly, bloody demise. As emergency services search the wreckage in the morning light, they find among the smoke and debris Niamh, inside a cupboard, clutching her baby brother. The baby is dead, according to the paramedic because his ribcage was too tightly compressed. Did Niamh inadvertently kill her brother? What power caused the death of her parents?

All this takes place within the first twenty minutes. From this point on Niamh returns to school, now cared for her neighbours and at school by welfare officer Tanya. Nat and husband Lucas have two children of their own, around Niamh’s age, and are themselves still coming to terms with the fairly recent death of their daughter Mary, who died of cancer. For Nat especially, there is a desire to create a bond between herself and Niamh, as if to heal the wound she still feels through her daughter’s absence. Welfare officer Tanya seems to have a more natural empathy with Niamh. Unlike Nat she does not hear the wince-inducing high pitched squeals that accompany Niamh’s screams. She does though, seem to be able to penetrate the young girl’s fear unlike any other adult. In one scene, she soothes a clearly upset Niamh, allowing her to tenderly touch her own heavily pregnant stomach. Whereas Nat seems to try too hard to find common ground with Niamh, this moment with Tanya felt natural and genuinely tender and was genuinely affecting.

For all that she exhibits tenderness and vulnerability Niamh also has a way of sensing the distress of other children. At the home of Nat and Lucas she feels the pain of a child – in this case that of Mary, their deceased daughter, who she sees in a photograph album, the bruises of her illness marking her frail body. Her suspicion that something untoward is happening between her adoptive guardians and their two surviving children prove unfounded. She continually misreads normal behaviour as potentially threatening, which results in her continuing to struggle to adapt to life in a ‘normal’ household. This sixth sense is awakened by classmates Christine and Peter, who are brother and sister. They exchange long looks with her and something passes between them. She sees bruises on their wrists, sees the way the other children goad them and call them names. One night she is drawn to their house. What she witnesses there causes an even deeper bond to develop between the three of them. It also marks a realisation within Niamh, an awareness of the force within her. A force powered by pain.

In different hands Dark Touch, dealing with the subject of the abuse, alienation and suffering of children, might have become an entirely different film. Using the horror genre as a vehicle with which to tackle a topic usually left to ‘straight’ drama brings a different dimension to our perception of the tortured emotional state and psychological scars suffered by victims of abuse. Despite the well meant intentions of adults, and the stigmatisation that so readily occurs against children by other children, Niamh’s fear, anger and pain refuses to exist quietly within her.

It is difficult to single out individuals for praise in this film, I was impressed with the whole cast. Missy Keating does brilliantly as Niamh. She never comes close to being a caricature, or a typical horror siren; always seeming foremost like a girl who is too young to understand the furies her pain inflicts upon the physical world. The adult cast are also excellent. Almost all the characters they play are well meaning and earnest in their desire to help, but in looking for a violent gang to blame they fail to see that the evil has come from within the world they themselves have helped to create. Director Marina De Van also excels in marshalling the cast and telling the story with understatement and subtlety. Shot in dun, autumnal tones, the atmosphere she helps create is foreboding without being stifling. Pain and poignancy, horror and sympathy are invoked in equal measure.

With so much moral outrage popular in the media these days, Dark Touch chooses a different way to express a victim’s story. If Dark Touch represents the agony of one girl, what terrifying fury would dozens of children who have suffered at the hands of adults feel like? Perhaps it is time they had such a voice as the horror genre can allow them to have; the voice to shock us, and perhaps play some tiny part in instigating a lasting change.

Dark Touch is out on Region 2 DVD on 13th October, from Metrodome.

Review by Karolina Gruschka

I was not entirely sure what the phrase ‘play hooky’ in the film title means and therefore looked it up online. Turns out it is an American term employed to state that one is skipping school or work. This would make sense as the five main characters in Play Hooky (2014) decide on spending a beautiful day out with MJ and mother’s best liquor instead of attending lessons. Tomboyish Rosie (Kim Kleemichen), flirty Megan (Becky Byers), anorak Claire (Theresa Davis) and cousins Lance (Vincent Kulish) and Brad (J. Wright Chester) drive around town to find a good spot for getting high without causing suspicion for not being at school.

What more exciting location to choose for being slackers than a creepy abandoned psychiatric hospital? Not even the security guard (Bob Waters) can scare them away: it just adds another pinch of the forbidden to their endeavour of finding a way in. Teenagers, glorious teenagers, you got to admire their free spirit and stupidity. Of course, this day trip does not end well, as Rosie, Meg, Claire, Lance and Brad end up locking themselves in the hospital and encountering difficulties locating another way out (I have heard of people locking themselves out by accident, but ‘in’…?) Megan totally freaks out, sensing something evil in those walls, but her fearful energy is quickly translated into sexual energy with a little help of drink and smoke. Aw look, how cute, she is wearing knickers that have ‘play hooky’ written on them, while she is doing just that – this is what I call proper outfit coordination.

I think it is about time I should mention that Play Hooky belongs to the recent circle of found footage horror films. One of the teenagers, Brad, is equipped with a camera that is attached to his hat. Rather than the camera becoming a sixth person within the group, the audience sees the events unfold from the viewpoint of a specific character. This has the effect that we do not have to wait for the character to first react and then the camera to catch up; instead, the camera is on the action faster as its reaction time equates to that of Brad himself. Abandoned haunted institution, vulnerable teenagers, camera/found footage – these ingredients literally scream out for the material to go in a certain obvious direction, but what I like about Play Hooky is that the director, scriptwriter and producer Frank S Petrilli chooses to take it somewhere else. I will not give away which subgenres I am referring to in the above statement as this would ruin the surprise.

Since this is a found footage film, I believe some of the conversations between the teenagers involved improvisational elements. I found their performances great, as the flow and rhythm of the text as well as the chemistry between the characters felt very natural; at no point did I question the congruity between actor and character, which aids with conveying the realist side of found footage work.

Unfortunately, those are the only positive aspects of the movie. I found Play Hooky quite pointless as, despite a couple of interesting ideas, it does not offer anything genuinely new to the genre. Moments where Petrilli shifts subgenres or switches the camera’s perspective to a different character’s may be a refreshing approach; however, its implementation is not striking enough to blow my socks off. All in all, it actually felt like I was not watching a genuine feature horror, but an amateur film shot for a school project. I expected a pimple faced greenhorn who is starting to tentatively set foot in the film industry to have created this. Therefore, it came as a great shock to discover that behind the name Frank S Petrilli is a grown man who has an impressive employment history. It might sound a bit stalkerish, however, I gathered from his Linked In profile that he comes from a theatre background and that his practical involvement with recorded media is rooted in a marketing environment. Taking the step to make a feature film is something altogether different from directing theatre plays or creating advertisements, so this forms a fairly new venture for Petrilli. Thumbs up for the bravery; it is never too late to move onto something new. However, I have to admit that Play Hooky simply did not work for me.

Nothing much really happens in the movie; just like the five, I found myself bored and wanting a few sips of finest whiskey to get me through this drag. Although there are violent scenes they had no effect on me, potentially because I lacked engagement in the story and the characters (as mentioned above, this is not the fault of the actors). Even if Rosie and Co. are your average kids from next door, I did not care at all what happened to them. Unless it was Petrilli’s intention all along to create work about youngsters in a dangerous situation from an amateurish school kid mindset? To mirror Rosie, Meg, Claire, Lance and Brad’s excuse of playing hooky to supposedly work on a school project? Maybe I am just trying too hard to be nice about the movie.

It is no joke when I say that there is already a sequel to the film, called Play Hooky: Innocence Lost (2014). This time, Petrilli does not go down the found footage route, but still, in moments like this I simply wonder, why oh why make another one?

Play Hooky will be released on Region 1 DVD by Wild Eye Releasing on 21st October. Do not feel sad if you are in Region 2, because, unfortunately, this is not a movie worth skipping school for.

Review by Ben Bussey

If there’s one complaint that holds up above all else when it comes to 21st century horror, it’s surely the lack of any truly great new iconic bad guys. We can pretty much measure the best decades for horror by the great monsters they gave us, from Dracula and Frankenstein (both the Lugosi/Karloff and Lee/Cushing models), through to Leatherface, Michael, Jason, Freddy, Pinhead and… well, who have we had since? Candyman, perhaps; one great film, two sequels no one gives a shit about. Ghostface? I don’t think so – it was a different person behind the mask every time, so it just doesn’t have that same resonance. Jigsaw? I dunno, something never quite sat right about him; his lack of direct involvement in the carnage mostly, and the fact that his puppet was a more memorable image than the man himself. Victor Crowley, Jacob Goodnight? Pale imitations of their predecessors. The Dentist, Doctor Giggles, Wishmaster, The Creeper? Now you’re just taking the piss…

Well, back in 2000, it seems that our old pal Charles Band may have noticed that gap in the market, and sought to fill it with Killjoy, a wisecracking demon in the shape of an evil clown. Of course, being Charles Band he also set out to realise this vision on the tightest budget possible with a largely inexperienced cast and crew. The results, unsurprisingly, were pretty crude and bog standard, and yet there was just enough of a good idea in there to spawn three sequels which… well… are also pretty crude and bog standard. Oh, sod it though; this isn’t the latest lavish heartfelt epic of the macabre from Guillermo del Toro, it’s a cheap-as-chips shot on video slasher quartet from Full Moon. Go in with your expectations in check, and there’s no reason not to have a good time.

Having said all that, things do get off to a surprisingly dark and grounded start, as the first Killjoy kicks off in the mean streets of South Central LA, following a teenage outcast named Michael (Jamal Grimes, in his sole acting credit), who is besotted with local girl Jada (Vera Yell). Unfortunately, her boyfriend is a local gangster – and, as you might expect, a bit on the possessive side. But when he and his musclebound homies beat the shit out of Michael one time too many, the nerdy boy does what they all do on these occasions – performs a black magic ritual to summon a demon of vengeance in the form of an evil clown doll. Yeah…

Killjoy is a bit of a curiosity in many respects. It’s one of the comparatively few films of its kind to feature an almost-exclusively African-American cast, and in its own way it does attempt to seriously address the issues plaguing young working class black people in urban America, even making a point of not painting the wannabe gangsters as two-dimensional villains. However, as a result of all this the title character doesn’t actually show up until around the halfway point – and subsequent to his arrival, pretty much all that social commentary goes out of the window in favour of some cut-price Freddy Krueger-isms (we’re talking the Freddy’s Dead model here). And when I say cut-price, I mean cut-price: IMDb list its estimated budget as $150,000, but if that’s true then I’d say this film warrants serious investigation from the IRS as that money sure as shit doesn’t show up on the screen. Even by 2000 standards, the DV photography looks like crap, and the special effects and make-up are for the most part amateurish in the extreme.

But again – so long as you can get past all that, there’s no reason not to have some fun with Killjoy. Ángel Vargas is enjoyably OTT in the title role, and there’s a fun central device in an ice cream truck serving as a portal to another dimension. Surprisingly, it’s also the only film of the series to really deliver the T&A, one obliging actress covering all the bases with both a gratuitous sex scene and a gratuitous shower scene.

2002 follow-up Killjoy 2: Deliverance From Evil makes further tentative attempts to explore social issues, whilst taking the killer clown into more of a backwoods/hillbilly horror set-up. Two guards from a juvenile prison (one of them being DTV scream queen Debbie Rochon, the film’s only white lead) take a bunch of young offenders out into a remote country location where they will serve their community service fixing up a derelict property. Alas, this being a horror movie the bus breaks down in the middle of nowhere, giving them no option but to head out looking for help; but when one of their number finds themselves shot in the gut by a po’ white trash trailer dweller, the group are forced to seek shelter with another nearby resident who just so happens to be a voodoo priestess, and knows a thing or two about the demon of vengeance called Killjoy.

Phew. As you can perhaps tell from that rather convoluted synopsis, this one takes a while to get going, again not introducing (or even making reference to) the title character until around the halfway mark – and once he does arrive, his entrance feels very shoehorned indeed. It does rather leave one with the suspicion that this might have been one of those pre-existing scripts that was refashioned as a sequel. All things considered it’s easily the worst of the four films, but it passes the time comfortably enough, and the bulk of the cast turn in surprisingly decent performances – including Trent Haaga, who takes over in the title role. (And get this minority fans – while the first Killjoy was directed by a black man, Craig Ross Jr, the sequel was directed by a woman, Tammi Sutton. Major representation points!)

Things take a significant creative leap forward with 2010’s Killjoy 3. Trent Haaga returns – in considerably better make-up – as Killjoy, whilst John Lechago (a white man, sorry) takes over as writer and director; and though this one rather sidesteps the African-American focus of the first two films, a concerted effort is made to broaden the universe of the killer clown. Key to this is the introduction of three new demonic partners in crime for our anti-hero: the mumbling, sad-faced, giant-fisted Punchy the Clown (Al Burke); the sinister mime with a conjoined fetus brother, Freakshow (Tai Chan Ngo); and, most inspired of all, a Tiffany to Killjoy’s Chucky in Batty Boop (Victoria DeMare). With her overly affected vocal mannerisms very much in the style of her almost-namesake, and a rather eye-catching body paint job, she’s a character which, I suspect, will leave viewers either loving or hating her. I’m going to leave you to guess for yourself which side of the fence I’m on there…

This aside, Killjoy 3 is fairly standard low budget horror. Digital photography and cut price CGI have come on a bit in the intervening years, so it looks a hell of a lot better than the first two films, but otherwise it does have the usual problem of a largely inexperienced cast trying to do their best with generic college kid good guy roles. Still, the dimension-hopping of the first film comes back to the forefront, this time with an antique mirror providing the portal to Killjoy’s hell dimension. While it’s still pretty tame in the gore and nudity department, this one does up the ante a little with a couple of enjoyably cartoonish kills, and whilst none of our young leads are fully exposed they do spend a fair bit of time with their impressively gym-toned torsos on display.

Finally, 2012’s Killjoy Goes To Hell is pretty much the only direct sequel of the whole series, and the first one to venture in a genuinely unexpected direction – with Killjoy on trial in Hell, on the charge of not being evil enough, following his defeat in Killjoy 3 (oh, come on now, that’s hardly a spoiler). The bulk of the team behind the previous film returns including writer-director Lechago and all Killjoy’s killer carnie cronies, with the barely-dressed Aqueela Zoll as the devilishly long-legged prosecutor, and Stephen F Cardwell as the presiding Judge – Beelzebub himself. By contrast with the first two films, the title character is unequivocally the lead now, and while he’s hardly armed with the wittiest dialogue ever written, Haaga does a fine job keeping us invested in the foul-mouthed anti-hero; and as this time around the action is mostly confined to Hell itself, things get a fair bit more outlandish, building toward an endearingly crude battle between Satan’s soldiers and Killjoy’s demonic clown brethren.

Naturally, the ending leaves things wide open for a fifth Killjoy movie – and I have to say, I’d be more than happy to see one. Sure, the character is unlikely to ever be counted among the genre legends we mentioned earlier, but as far as bargain basement direct-to-DVD horror goes, I’d take more of this over another found footage/torture porn/kids in a cabin movie any day of the week. If you like your slashers simple and have a thing about creepy clowns (or hot chicks in clown make-up, for that matter…), then you could do a lot worse than to give these movies a whirl.

The Killjoy Collection is available exclusively at HMV from 13th October, via 88 Films.

Review by Quin

When I was given the task of reviewing The Pact 2, not having seen the first one, I agreed anyway. I then did what any reasonable film critic would do to prepare myself for this task, I found The Pact on Netflix and watched it. Having enjoyed it as much as I did, I’m now slightly embarrassed that I didn’t seek it out sooner. I remember the positivity it received from viewers when it was released in 2012. But, for some reason I just never got around to it. I actually partly blame it on that horrendous poster that makes me think of Peter Jackson’s The Frighteners or that scene in A Nightmare on Elm Street where Freddy starts to come out of the wall over Nancy’s bed. It creates a rather interesting visual, but it looks cheap and silly on the poster. Well, it turns out that it’s a very good thing when the only fault you can find for a film is its poster. The rest of The Pact is damned near perfect. There are two reviews on Brutal as Hell (editor’s note – from Keri and Annie) if you wish to go back and read about them. But in my humble opinion, I love the way it takes its time with the story, weaving an intricate plot filled with enough details for two movies.

The Pact 2, out now on VOD, is pretty much everything that the first one is not – or better yet, The Pact is all of the things that its sequel is not, because The Pact 2 is predictable, filled with plot holes, tries to hurry complex ideas with very little explanation or plot development, and it’s brought back the good old fashioned jump scare. Now before I pinpoint exactly where this film went oh-so-wrong, I’ll give you a brief synopsis and I’ll do my best to not be too spoilery unless you haven’t seen the first one. Actually, before I begin – if you haven’t seen the first one stop reading right now and go check it out. It’s streaming on Netflix, so it’s very conveniently located. Enjoy it and ignore the final 5 seconds, then forget the sequel exists. Okay, are you still reading? You must have really loved the first one and genuinely want to know whether you should bother with part 2 (or as I like to call it, Number 2.)

We are introduced to the main character, a young woman named June, who isn’t in the first film. She lives with her boyfriend who is a cop and she makes her living as a cleaner of crime scenes. She is seen with her tiny spray bottle, scrubbing brains with a sponge while the landlord of the apartment building makes cryptic, creepy comments. June’s mother is in Narcotics Anonymous and she drives her to her meetings, appointments and drug tests. One day, FBI Agent Ballard (played as well as possible by Patrick Fischler, an actor who has had roles in everything on T.V.) shows up to tell June that she is adopted and her birth mother was murdered by the Judas Killer. He was just in the neighborhood investigating murders that appear to be copying the Judas murders, so why not stop by and ruin someone’s life on his lunch break? He also has reason to believe that June is either involved in these murders or will probably be a victim soon. He also thinks she should talk to that girl from the first Pact and see if she has any advice.

When the woman that June had thought was her mother ends up dead, she starts playing investigator. First she calls Annie (Caity Lotz, the star of part 1). Annie takes her to see the blind psychic Stevie (Haley Hudson, also from part 1). Stevie kinda steals the show in part 1, but she’s in part 2 just long enough to say she’s moving away and can’t help at all. It’s now up to Annie to figure this shit out. She scratches her head and lights some candles, but June pretty much just takes care of it all herself.

The rest is pretty much just more of the same as part 1, but with less ghostly activity. The use of smart phones that was so clever in the original is abandoned, as is the amazing wallpaper. And the characters – the characters are all just magically moving like a Ouija Board planchette toward this big conclusion that will create a twist that you can probably already guess and it will all inevitably lead us to The Pact 3.

The Pact 2 had a director change from the first one. Nicholas McCarthy wasn’t available because he was making At the Devil’s Door. The director team of Dallas Hallam and Patrick Horvath took over for part 2. They previously did one of my favorite indie films of this decade, a nasty, gut punching, scary hipster home invasion movie called Entrance. Their director skills are just fine. They bring a similar mumble-core style that Entrance had as well as doing a great job of maintaining the look and tone of The Pact. The writing on the other hand is awful for all of the reasons I mentioned a few paragraphs ago.

It actually made me pretty sad watching this. The Pact had great potential to be an indie horror franchise. But instead of building on the things that made the first one so successful, Hallam and Horvath just dumb it down and give us something that Hollywood would probably want to see. After all, making money is a long standing tradition in the horror business. By the last ten minutes it felt like I was watching Scream 5 or something, with the twists and self referential humor. Oh, and the last few seconds that set us up for another sequel will make you face palm so hard you may lose consciousness. So, to recap what we have learned today: rent The Pact and Entrance, two of the best horror-ish films to come out recently, but stay far, far away from The Pact 2 with its ache to be a cash generating formula and its ridiculous poster.

The Pact 2 is available now in the US on VOD, via IFC Midnight.

By Svetlana Fedotov

Ask any hardcore punk fan and they will say that on the Seventh Holy Day, God did not rest, but, in fact, created punk rock. Spurring cultural movements and getting anti-social kids laid since Joey Ramone’s ugly mug became the face of rebellion, punk is more than just music, it’s a whole fucking lifestyle. With Image Comics’ Punks The Comic hitting the shelves like a brick to a poser’s face, we once again get to relive that youthful fallacy that all you need in life is music, friends, and a dog. Though to be fair, this isn’t a comic about punks as much as comic written by punks about things that punks think are funny, so if you ever were a punk, you’ll dig it, if not, well, fuck you then, we don’t follow your rules! Down with the man, up with drugs!

Punks The Comic is pretty much a series of short misadventures about a group of guys who all live together. Though essentially nameless, the characters can be described by their appearances, who are normal looking fellows with bizarre, talking heads stapled onto their bodies. This includes a bulldog, Abe Lincoln (who I think is the actual Abe Lincoln), a Ghost Rider-type flaming skull, and a fist. Sharing witty exchanges and bourgeois musings – with the fist mainly participating by holding up signs with his thoughts on them – the group finds themselves dealing with girls, depression, and kicking each other in the crotch. Yeah, it’s that kind of work. Reeking of found zines and skunk beer, it’s got more cheap laughs than you can shake a junkie at.

Obviously, the most notable thing about Punks is the art style. Forgoing the traditional comic route of penned illustration, the creators instead opt for a more homemade, overexposed Xerox vibe. The artist, Kody Chamberlain, goes all out on the concept, cutting and pasting the entire work together from various pictures and magazines. Don’t get me wrong, the guy can actually draw, having done work for BOOM!, IDW, and Marvel, and with his beautiful layout on Punks, it merely shows the diversity of his talent. In fact, it feels like the story was written around the visuals, focusing more on the imagery of tossed aside concert flyers and that weird tingle of nostalgia, than on the actual words.

Speaking of words, this is a pretty funny comic as well, but it’s a very particular type of humor. There’s a heavy focus on absurdist, underground street comedy that screams subculture that if you weren’t really part of it, it would appear amateurish and kind of boring. The comic doesn’t make any pretense as to what it is and that’s a punk comic for punk fans. While it’s definitely accessible for all readers, it’s like picking up old Slave Labor Graphics work but never being a goofy Goth kid. Sure, you can snatch it up and read it, but it’ll probably come off as, well, dumb. Of course, it needs to be noted that Punks The Comic was originally created for MTV Geek and has always been aimed at music fans instead of comic fans, so you’ll have to give it some leeway. The fun part though is that if you’ve ever spent any time around punk kids, you can definitely identify with it.

Goofy, reminiscent, and self-deprecating, Punks The Comic may not be for everyone, but I’m pretty sure that was the point.

Review by Dustin Hall

If there’s one thing that you can take away from Annabelle, it’s that people are effing terrified of dolls. This follow-up/prequel to James Wan’s The Conjuring last year was able to illicit groans and shudders of disgust from its audience every time a doll came onto the screen, whether it was doing something or not (usually not). If anything, go see Annabelle for a truly entertaining series of audience reactions.

Before going into this, lets just make clear that I’m not really a fan of James Wan’s previous horror flicks. While I liked The Conjuring okay, the Insidious movies always struck me as more ridiculous and funny than frightening, bogged down in plot contrivances, cheap jump scares and poor acting. As soon as that Tiny Tim song starts playing, my brain checks out. Annabelle, despite not being directed by Wan, has all of his signature moves and problems carried over by cinematographer-come-director John Leonetti, complete with an extremely predictable, by the numbers plot.

That doll… just the notion that anyone would ever keep this horrifying, bloodied, dirtied, hideous thing in their home is incredulous.

That said, though, the movie does have some wonderful highlights that made the experience worth the visit. The opening of the film, a plot set-up revolving around a Manson Family-like death cult, is quick and intense. After that the movie plods along slowly, using fake-out scares all over, but it does finally build into a fantastic haunted chase up from the basement of the apartment complex, and a couple of ghostly reveals that leave real chills with their audience. A few moments are truly inspired, and use the cinematographer’s visual realization of terror to the highest degree. The cast does a pretty good job selling the 70’s period of the film, as well as their terror.

The real failing of this film, though, is its lack of the Warren characters. Ed and Loraine, the heroes of The Conjuring, don’t appear here, despite the heavy marketing as a prequel. The Warrens are very controversial figures in horror history, the realm of ghost hunting in particular, but it has to be said that it was their presence and their informed point of view that made The Conjuring really interesting. Without the paranormal investigation, and the history of their museum, Annabelle just becomes another standard, run of the mill ghost story. And to boot, this story isn’t even based on the ‘true’ story of Annabelle as reported by the Warrens and countless paranormal websites. Was the truth, by comparison, too bland to be used on film? I suppose, knowing from The Conjuring that the two girls the Warrens save from Annabelle survive their encounter, the suspense just wasn’t there anymore.

These weaknesses can’t be ignored, and because of them, I can’t say that Annabelle is a great movie. But it does have some strengths, enough to be a bit above the curve of the average horror film these days, and if you’re one of those folks who has pretty much never seen a ghost movie before, you’ll probably be surprised by the direction it heads. Either way, if you want to see just how ooky people get when they see pictures of dolls, sentient or not, then this one’s for you.

Annabelle is in US cinemas now and arrives in the UK on 10th October, from New Line Cinema.

Review by Ben Bussey

It feels strange to be finally catching up with one of the best horror films of its year several years after its initial release. When the screener arrived for Kidnapped I’d all but forgotten the praise it first attracted in 2011; Nia caught it at BIFFF, Steph at FrightFest, and our old buddy Marc on its US DVD release, and their response was unanimously positive. Quite why it’s taken this long for Miguel Angel Vivas’s breakthrough film to get a UK release, I couldn’t imagine – but in a way, I’m quite pleased it was delayed. By 2011, I was just exhausted with ordeal movies; it seemed like every new horror that came along was nothing but home invasion, humiliation, rape, balaclavas and bloodied people tied to chairs, or some combination thereof. Had I seen Kidnapped under those circumstances, having lost whatever taste I might have had for that brand of intense horror, I suspect I would have dismissed it offhand, thrown it under the bus with the rest of the torture porn. And I would’ve been dead wrong to do so. There is very little that’s particularly pleasant about Kidnapped, but as an exercise in sheer, unrelenting terror and despair, it’s something very special indeed.

A family’s first night in their nice, new, relatively secluded home turns into a living nightmare when three masked man break in. That’s really all you need to know plot-wise, and I won’t say any more for a couple of reasons: firstly, because this is one of those films that surely works best if you go in as good as blind (I’m not embedding any of the too-revealing-for-my-liking trailers on this page for that very reason); and secondly because, broken down in a matter-of-fact, beat-for-beat way, you might think Kidnapped offered nothing you haven’t seen before. Indeed, from a certain point of view it really doesn’t; like I said, ordeals and home invasions have been ten-a-penny in horror this past decade, and from a narrative perspective Miguel Angel Vivas’s film doesn’t really take us anywhere especially new. But it’s all in the execution (I suppose there could be a pun there). It may not be a ground-breaker in terms of storytelling, but as a testament to the power of excellent direction and acting, Kidnapped is damn near impossible to find fault in.

In common with most home invasion films, the action is largely confined to the family home, with a core cast of six: Fernando Cayo, Ana Wagener and Manuela Vellés as the parents and teenage daughter, and Guillermo Barrientos, Dritan Biba and Martijn Kuiper as their assailants. Vivas’s masterstroke is to keep the editing minimal, the camera moving with the action in a series of very long takes, with very few noticeable cuts; I didn’t try and keep track, but according to Nia the film is literally 12 shots in total. I guess now we’d call that shooting Alfonso Cuaron style, but where Cuaron tends to emphasise depth in wide-open spaces, Vivas keeps it all very intimate – uncomfortably so, in fact. Once we realise there isn’t going to be a cut, we’re left that bit less comfortable once things start getting rough, and – if you’re anything like me – you may find yourself inwardly begging for the cut to come, and the moment to pass. But Vivas isn’t letting us off that easy.

Still, none of this is to say the film has a too-real, quasi-documentary style: the look of the film is very slick and filmic, beautifully shot and lit with judicious use of music (as Marc noted, it doesn’t feel too far removed from the French extreme cinema of recent years). And, in an interesting move, Vivas keeps the pace up by occasional use of split-screen; while this old technique very often seems a bit kitsch, here it’s used to remarkable effect, allowing us to keep up with parallel action and ensuring the film never loses momentum.

I suppose some may grumble at the use of Eastern-European immigrants as the antagonists, breaking into the comfortable home of a native Spanish family with seemingly no motive other than money. But really, any political overtones tend to remain in the background. In the tradition of the finest, purest horror, the primary concern in Kidnapped is always the protagonists and their desperation to escape with their lives. It may fall back on some tried-and-tested conventions and character tropes in doing so, but it’s played in such a raw, naturalistic fashion that it takes the viewer right along with them on their downward spiral into hell. The result is a film which, in many ways, is hard to recommend, as it’s far from a barrel of laughs, and it won’t leave you in an especially upbeat mood; but if you’re after something harsh, visceral and unrelenting to squeeze your psyche through a potato ricer of catharsis, Kidnapped needs to go straight onto your to-view list.

Kidnapped is released to DVD and download on 13th October 2014, from Icon.

Review by Karolina Gruschka

“I’m Clif Prowse.” “And I’m Derek Lee, and tomorrow we’re going on a year-long trip around the world! Six continents, over 30 countries. It’s gonna be epic.”

Day 1: ‘Not Another Found Footage Film’
This was my first response towards Afflicted (2013), since horror movies based on ‘found footage’ material just don’t do it for me. I get nauseous from shaky hand-held cameras, when I cannot see things properly I find it highly frustrating rather than uncanny, and I absolutely loathe the protagonists’ exaggeratedly panicky reactions to pretty much nothing. Even Blair Witch Project was not my thing; however, I hold at least respect for the movie considering it was the first of its kind. All found footage horror that came after, I have tried to avoid; sometimes I would let myself be talked into seeing one, but each time this only reinforced my contempt for those kind of movies. That said, I have not lost hope entirely or I would not be watching Afflicted.

Day 2: The Day has Dawned
I thoroughly enjoyed Afflicted and can highly recommend it. This just shows that sometimes it is worth giving material you usually would not touch a shot. If I were to describe the movie, I would compare it to Chronicle (2012) in regards to its action sequences and vibes. Afflicted is a Canadian film about two childhood friends who want to escape the routine of adult life by travelling the world together. Derek has recently been diagnosed with AVM (arteriovenous malformation) in his brain; a condition that in severe cases can lead to blood vessels rupturing, causing paralysis or resulting in death. He turns this blow of fate into an opportunity for living life to the full without regrets. Equipped with camera gear, best friend Clif joins Derek on his epic trip, documenting their adventures and posting it on ‘Ends of the Earth’, their interactive travel blog.

Day 7: Saved by the Bell (?) – A Turkish Cockblock in Paris
After having spent a fun week in Spain, Derek and Clif accompany their friends Zach & Edo from Canadian band Unalaska to a gig in Paris. At the venue, Derek meets mysterious French girl Audrey (Baya Rahaz) who he ends up taking back to the hotel room. Since all four boys share the same room, Zach, Edo and Clif decide to play a joke on Derek by cockblocking him. Instead of disturbing a sexual encounter, they interrupt Audrey’s violent attack on Derek. Audrey escapes, Derek’s life has been spared, however, he might have been better off dead, as a wound inflicted by Audrey causes him to contract an unusual affliction that will put a dark turn on their journey.

Night 7: The Less You Know the Better
My advice to you is to avoid the trailer and any other information about Afflicted as this way you will dodge spoilers and be in for a surprise. If you dislike found footage horror, too, give Afflicted a chance nonetheless. Since the format is a travel blog, the video material is not really found, but an edited version of Derek and Clif’s recordings. With the aim of targeting a big online community, the footage has been selected accordingly, therefore averting boring and poor sequences. This could be a reason why I did not encounter the same issues I usually do with movies like Blair Witch Project or As Above So Below.

Creators Lee and Prowse seem to have a great genre awareness as they succeed at avoiding common mistakes made with found footage; for instance, problems in regards to justifying camera positioning. Fairly early on, they have the protagonists introduce the camera strap-on device that allows for shoot’em up view points. I believe that this subgenre works best when a blending of reality and fiction occurs, otherwise what is the point of including (pretend) amateur recordings. Whereas a media stunt was generated around Blair Witch Project, making it out to be genuine footage of people that have gone missing, I know that Derek is not really suffering from this mysterious illness. However, Clif Prowse and Derek Lee not only share the faces and names of Afflicted’s characters, but also their biographies, to some extent. They have been best friends since being teenagers, they make films together, their wives, families and friends were involved in the filmmaking process (i.e. Jason is also Derek’s brother in real life), and generally the responses of the characters to developments in the story are kept as natural as possible. Afflicted does not only fit in the found footage corner of horror; as a result of the naturalistic approach, Prowse and Lee rewrite another familiar subgenre that is usually stylized (I will not mention which subgenre it is as to not spoil the surprise).

Night X: So Worth Your Time
From start to finish Afflicted was engaging; its execution is clever, loving and with an attention to detail, making for a genuinely pleasurable viewing. I sense, or at least hope, that we will be seeing more film projects from Lee and Prowse in future. Do not let the found footage label scare you away, or you will miss out!

Afflicted will be released on DVD by Entertainment One on 6th October 2014.

Review by Tristan Bishop

Time for full disclosure – I’ve not seen any of the six (?!) other Leprechaun films. Back in the mid-nineties I was a mildly pretentious youth more into French art house fare than comedy horror, and so the gore ‘n’ giggles formula wasn’t one I tended to opt for on a trip to the video shop. Of course over the years I’ve relaxed a little and am far more open to delights from right across the filmic spectrum, so when the call went out that a screener for the new Leprechaun film was available I stuck my hand up, anticipating, at worst, a jolly low-budget film filled with bad taste jokes and ludicrous splatter.

It appears, however, that WWE Studios had a slightly different idea about how the seventh Leprechaun film should play out, and it became abruptly clear that Leprechaun : Origins is somewhat of a reboot of the series, dispensing with the laughs and instead bringing the series into line with the more grim & gritty trends in modern horror. After an opening scene showing a young couple stalked and killed by an unknown assailant, we are introduced to two more extremely attractive yet utterly detestable young American couples holidaying in Ireland. After some tiresome character-building (one of them wants to study in a different place to the other one, you know the drill here) they end up in a local village pub ordering unspecified ‘pints’ and are accosted by a charming fellow who notes that one of the young people is a history student and tells them he has some remarkable old mystical stones to show them (we’ve all heard this one, eh ladies?) if they come and stay the night in a remote cottage miles from nowhere. Apparently, the lure of ancient granite is enough for them to agree to this, and soon the chap and his extremely unfriendly son drive them out to the site in the middle of the night. It transpires that where their village was once rich and prosperous following the discovery of a gold mine, but after some mysterious deaths the mine was closed and the village fell into ruin. Upon arrival at the run-down cottage, the couples bed down for the night, but soon discover they are not alone in the area, and something vicious is stalking them.

This film pretty much spoilers itself with the title, doesn’t it? Obviously the thing stalking them is the titular Leprechaun, still seeking revenge for his stolen gold. But he’s not the jolly Warwick Davies-styled ginger chap in a bright green suit in this one. Oh no, as it’s the year 2014 our creature resembles nothing more than a shoddier version of the cave-dwellers from The Descent. Rather bafflingly the chap inside the suit is Hornswaggle, who is apparently a WWE dwarf wrestler. Having no knowledge of his previous work I’m in no position to judge his quality as an actor, but here he is utterly wasted in an monster suit lacking decent expression, and pretty much just flailing around occasionally. Say what you like about See No Evil (as it goes I rather like it) – Kane’s presence was one of the most impressive things about it, so here this seems an odd role to give to one of the stars of the studio’s wrestling output.

There’s honestly not much I can say in favour of Leprechaun: Origins. There are a couple of good gore moments, including one sick gag which caught me by surprise and made me laugh out loud (sorry flatmates), but they are few and far between in a film which really could have benefited from piling the outlandish gore on. Script, direction and cinematography are all perfunctory at best (director Zach Lipovsky is slated to make an upcoming film of Capcom’s amusing zombie game series Dead Rising, and as a fan of the games this doesn’t exactly fire my anticipation) and any fans of the series hoping for an actual origin story for the beast are going to be disappointed too; aside from a bit where the young people read a story in an ancient book, there’s no sign of any ‘origin’ here at all.

So this is a reboot of the series famous for its humour and star villain, ditching both and replacing them with a shoddy monster and bland pretty people to be picked off one-by-one. Ironically the biggest crime this film commits is that it isn’t fun at all (save for the aforementioned moment), and maybe some of the wise-cracking silliness could have come as a blessed relief. In short, it’s a total misfire, and not worth your time.

Leprechaun Origins is released to Region 2 DVD on 6th October, from Lionsgate.

By Svetlana Fedotov

Comic anthologies are hard to pull off, especially when all it takes is one bad story to drag the whole thing down. I’ve read plenty collaborated works consisting of a mixed bag of good and bad art and good and bad script, which, unfortunately for the entire publication, will force what could’ve been an A+ project into a C+ “at least they tried.” With the revival of Creepy by Dark Horse Comics, I am proud to say that this horror compilation has solid consistency in both the written and illustrated aspects, creating an all-around solid read. With contributions from underground talent, old school monster creators, and sexy, foreign artists, Creepy brings back the horror anthology to what it should be: original stories of the most lurid nature!

Creepy #18 is no straggler when it comes to tingly tales of terror, opening up on a strange little story exploring the death of Edgar Allen Poe and his real-life rival Rufus Wilmont Griswold, who spent years tarnishing the Poe name only to make the man much more famous in his death then he ever was in life. Following that is a story of one-upmanship that ends poorly for both competitors, hilariously drawn and written by indy legend Peter Bagge. Soon, we creep onto a new story by Swamp Thing visionary Len Wein about a man and his slave as they traverse the wild desert, which leads into the next vile tale of the shortest villainy reign ever seen on paper. Of course, always eager to end on a strong note, the issue’s last tale, “Over the River to Charlie” – well, it’s just too gruesome to spoil. I would hate to ruin the surprise.

As stated, this work is a perfect example of the right talent and the right writing working together to provide a collected vision of the macabre. While no art or writing style is alike, each unique voice is fully developed and only adds to the “taste test” vibe of the comic. All the contributors are already recognized as solid creators in their own right, so it’s pretty awesome to see them all come together like this. Also, I love the fact that they got some of the older, original talent on the beast, such as Len Wein and Luis Bremejo, who helped originate this type of moralistic, Goth horror in the first place. It’s nice to see that talent has no expiration date; it only ages, like cheese or wine!

Anyway, if you’re looking for some old school vibe with some new (and vintage) school talent, hustle down to your local comic store and pick up the latest Creepy. Every issue will bring you new and exciting tales to titillate you late into the night! Bwa ha ha!