Archive: Author:

Following the microbudget horror scene can be a curious game. A lot of it is instantly forgettable, but now and then along comes the odd small scale DIY movie that manages to capture the attention of the (quote-unquote) horror community. Sometimes it’s easy to see why these cheap and cheerful efforts win the hearts and minds of genre fans; other times you have to wonder quite how this little film in particular managed to break through in such a big way. Case in point: Joe Begos’ Almost Human (not to be mixed up with the recent JJ Abrams TV show or the old Umberto Lenzi movie – which, given how often titles are changed in the DVD horror market, leaves me a little surprised they didn’t change this one just to avoid any confusion).

Just so there’s no misunderstanding here, let me emphasise that this is not by any means a bad film. However, it seems to be among the most highly praised horror movies of the past year or so, garnering huge buzz in the genre press and on the social networks… and I’m afraid to say that, so far as I can see, this acclaim simply isn’t warranted. Sure, Almost Human makes for a relatively diverting 75 minutes or so, but not nearly enough to justify the level of attention it has recieved. Admittedly I saw this home alone on DVD, and director Begos mentions in the accompanying video interview (the sole extra) that the film seems to play better with a crowd; this may very well be true, for while I saw plenty to admire in Almost Human, I couldn’t help but note the room for improvement it left on pretty much every level.

To address the strengths first, Almost Human does have an immediately interesting premise. Opening on what would appear to be an alien abduction, we see an anxious man named Seth (Graham Skipper) barge into the home of his buddy Mark (Josh Ethier) screaming about sinister goings-on and lights in the sky. Undaunted, Mark heads out to investigate – and, in a blaze of blue light and a cacaphony of unearthly noise, he disappears. Fast forward to two years later, Seth is struggling to get his life back on track, while Mark’s girlfriend Jen (Vanessa Leigh) has done her best to move on, settling down with someone new. But then, strangely similar happenings seem to occur once again – and someone looking uncannily like Mark is found in the woods by hunters, naked and covered in some kind of weird slime (or, um, possibly jizz). However, this new Mark would appear to have some gargantuan anger management issues, as he proceeds to kill everyone that stands between him and his former home, with some nefarious purpose driving him on.

It’s not hard to see why a movie with this premise would win over the contemporary horror crowd. 80s nostalgia continues to run deep in the veins of fandom, and everything about this film targets this, from its use of practical make-up FX, a synth-driven score, and the instantly recognisable John Carpenter font for the credits, to the fact that – somewhat gratuitously – it’s even set in the late 80s. However, despite the clear influence of Carpenter, Almost Human would seem to be first and foremost riffing on The Terminator, with its emotionless antagonist that turns up naked, steals clothes from the first poor bastards unfortunate enough to cross his (its?) path, who then heads off in single-minded pursuit of an unwitting waitress. But then by the final act, it all gets a little Re-Animator with some rather unexpected shifts in a more peverse direction; scenes which I can quite easily imagine going down a storm at the fests.

However, it’s also painfully apparent from start to finish that the whole thing could have been done so much better. Begos may aspire to Carpenter, but he doesn’t come anywhere near him as a visual stylist; the photography is murky and dark, the camerawork lacks creativity and flair. Okay, so this might be excused by the fact that Almost Human is a low-budget indie – but honestly, the reported budget on this was $50,000. I’ve seen plenty of films made for less than that which looked better than this. The practical FX frankly aren’t that great either; sure, this is meant to provide some good-time late night viewing, but the rubbery tentacle work just looks a bit silly, killing whatever genuine tension there might have been. On top of which, the kills quickly get repetitive, with an overabundance of throat-slashing; I can’t be the only one who groaned when, after pursuing a victim with a chainsaw, Ethier’s villain suddenly pulls a knife and uses that instead.

But then there’s the matter of the things that don’t cost money, yet are almost always the key pitfall of microbudget movies: good writing and good acting. Almost Human really falls short here. I don’t mind that Begos’ script leaves plenty of questions unanswered regarding the extra-terrestrial threat, but the dialogue is dull, scene after scene feeling flat and lifeless. Much the same is true of the central performances, and as such it’s very hard to get at all invested in the movie.

Maybe it’s true that Almost Human plays better with a crowd, but I can’t help feeling it would have played better if a bit more work had gone into it.

Almost Human is out on Region 2 DVD on 4 August, from Metrodome.

Review by Karolina Gruschka

Writing this review could turn out to be a deadly endeavour. That said, I hast nay bad w’rd to utt’r against the great Edward Kendal Sheridan Lionheart, n’r against this delightful movie!

Theatre of Blood is about an ambitious and hard working actor who has dedicated 30 years of his life to perfecting his performance of Shakespearean characters. To his misfortune there exists this little inner circle of renowned theater critics, led by Peregrine Devlin, who seem to be fixated on slating his efforts. Lionheart is overacting, lacking range and originality and is stuck in the past, so they write. The circle’s systematic humiliation culminates in their refusal to bestow him with the Critic’s Circle Award for Best Actor, at the height of his career; instead, the award goes to William Woodstock, a “twitching, mumbling boy who can barely grunt his way through an incomprehensible performance” (in Lionheart’s words). This is the final trigger that drives Lionheart into suicide, taking the award with him to the depths of the Thames.

However, he survives the jump and rises from the filthy waters to lead a group of vagabonds who are willing to do anything for some meths. For the next two years they call an abandoned theatre their home and, despite still not giving up on Shakespeare, Lionheart starts slowly to develop a rather postmodern approach to the playwright’s works and to theatre in general. With the aid of his loyal daughter Edwina and his highly physical as well as performative droogs, Lionheart, who is still believed to be dead, resurfaces from his rat kingdom to perform artistic revenge. One by one he “punishes” each critic who destroyed his career (and potentially that of many other actors/actresses) by means of re-imagining scenes from Shakespearean plays that he performed during his best season. Now, people who are familiar with William S. know that he does indeed like a bit of ultraviolence.

Living Theatre

The 1960s and 1970s saw a flourishing of alternative, performance based art forms, such as physical theatre, fluxus and happenings. Those kind of live events were closely linked to the spirit and poltical activism of its time; traditional canons were uprooted, giving way to a state of anarchy and provocation. Creative expression, experiment, improvisation, collaboration, participation and real experiences became common modes within the performative arts, suturing the divide between high art and popular entertainment as well as art and life. The duo Gilbert and George seem to have succeeded at blurring those lines; since the late 1960s they have stayed in ‘character’ as living sculptures claiming their complete lives as art. Ultimately, this manner of constructing artistic events, also bled into other art forms, such as theater. The Living Theater (a US company originally founded in the late 1940s and still existing) forms an example of a troupe that live together and collectively create as well as unconventionally stage poetic plays which carry an anarchist message and break down the ‘fourth wall’ between spectators and performers. In times like those, can we really blame the critic circle in Theater of Blood for dismissing Lionheart’s work as old-fashioned?

“All the world’s a stage, And all the men and women merely players”

Surprisingly, Lionheart’s great but mad investment in old-worldly Shakespearean plays fits in with the postmodern spirit of his time; still, the critics chose to laugh it off, rather than to see the genius behind it. In similar manner to Gilbert and George there exists no clear distinction between Lionheart’s ‘real’ and artistic persona – he is living theatre. However, where postmodern theatre from the 1960s and 1970s had a rather romantic idealist and pacifist vibe to it, Lionheart’s message is that of destruction. He proceeds by exploiting the weaknesses and vices of his ‘victims’ to lure them into a trap; Trevor Dickman, for instance, has a thing for young women, Meredith Merridew loves his food, Chloe Moon is focused on her looks and Solomon Psaltry is a very jealous man. Making use of various locations, like his theater, the victims house or a hair salon, Lionheart stages scenes from Shakespearean plays in a semi-improvisational manner, also involving the participation of the, yet unknowing, victim. For this purpose, he adapts, rewrites and sometimes modernises Shakespeare to suit his creative needs; for example, he takes on the role of a hipster hairdresser for a scene from Henry VI or that of a famous TV cook for Titus Andronicus. Finally, Lionheart relives his trauma by confronting the critics with their wrongdoings and ceremonially turns his humiliation into violent delight over the moment of panic stricken recognition on their faces and their suffering.

The Doggy-Woggy Boiler

So, in the end, Lionheart has done what the critics asked of him, yet, still in his dying hour, Devlin decides to mock him. Maybe, after all, the circle of critics had not been fair on Lionheart and, all along, out for smelling some blood. I sense that the reason they attacked Lionheart so vehemently might be to do with his age and career stage; he seems to threaten the critics’ perfect little upper middle class lives by reminding them of their own autumn of career and life. Theatre of Blood is a black comedy, which, with the right balance of gruesome horror and comic relief (in great Grand Guignol manner), enacts revenge against critics. In this movie they are being stereotyped as “pompous, narcissistic, self-serving assholes” (David Del Valle mentions this in the special features), who, despite being talentless themselves, are the makers or breakers of artists’ careers. The critics are caricatures of themselves, highlighted even further by their descriptive and funny names, such as jolly Mr. Merridew, short and effeminated Mr. Sprout, or Mr. Dickman who is a bit of a dick.

Ironically, Theatre of Blood received great reviews; yet, would a reviewer dare to criticise this film? S/he would only prove to be THAT kind of critic who is laughed at in the movie. Vincent Price, too, experienced criticism for overacting (his gestures, his famous eyebrow), and was at times underrated, potentially because of his prolific body of work and his later frequent appearance in the horror genre. According to the film historian Del Valle, Price found it quite hurtful, but carried enough optimism and love of life to let it go. Theatre of Blood gave Vincent Price the opportuninty to take his own little revenge. What is more, it gave him the chance to ‘do’ theatre, which he enjoyed, yet usually did not have the time for during his career. And, of course, Theater of Blood is the set where he met his third wife, Coral Browne (Miss Moon in the movie).

Theater of Blood (1973) was released by Arrow 19th May 2014 on Blu-ray. The image is great, however, the sound in regards to speech leaves a lot to be desired; I had to turn the English subtitles on to fully get the dialogue (but then again, I am not a native speaker and don’t have the best hearing). Nonetheless, this is a disc that should not be missing from any Blu-ray collection! The following special features are included on the disc: the original trailer, an interview with Michael J. Lewis (the composer of the Soundtrack), an interview with Madeline Smith (plays Rosemary), an interview with film historian David Del Valle, an interview with Victoria Price (Vincent Price’s daughter) and an audio commentary by The League of Gentlemen.

Theatre of Blood is available now on Blu-Ray from Arrow Video.

Review by Ben Bussey

This is a really rather strange film. Okay, so it’s a 1982 low budget slasher starring the same key players as Maniac; perhaps it goes without saying that it’s rather strange. But this reunion of Joe Spinnell and Caroline Munro is in a world of its own for strangeness. The Last Horror Film (not to be confused with The Last Horror Movie) is typical enough of early 80s horror in that it’s a grisly, sleazy affair with excessive gore and gratuitous nudity in abundance – yet it’s directed by an ostensibly respectable Hollywood guy, David Winters, best known for starring in West Side Story (having even appeared in the show’s original run on Broadway). Its setting is pretty far removed from your standard stalk’n’slash fodder too, as it was largely shot guerilla-style at the Cannes Film Festival. On top of all that, it’s very close to being a musical, with a slew of soft rock songs detailing the journey of our main protagonist – Spinnell’s Vinny Durand, a sweaty, socially awkward, dangerously delusional New York cabbie (yep, he’s really playing against type here) who’s high-tailed it to the French Riveria intent on tracking down his idol, scream queen Jana Bates (Munro), and luring her to star in his own film.

Yes, this is another of those films which stands as firm proof that self-aware, self-referential horror existed long before Scream showed up – making it all the more curious that the film Munro’s character is in Cannes to promote is entitled Scream. Yet in a way, The Last Horror Film also demonstrates the pitfalls of such an approach. Like so many of the smug, pseudo-post-modern slashers that came in the late 90s, this is a horror movie that’s anxious to prove how smart it is, to point fingers at the conventions of the genre and laugh; yet at the same time, as it’s working within that same genre, it’s also out to give the viewer exactly what they expect. That old have-your-cake-and-eat-it-too scenario (although I’m still not sure what else the inventor of that maxim thought we should be doing with the cake instead, but I digress). Well, to use yet another old adage with a masticatory angle, The Last Horror Film bites off quite a bit more than it can chew. It has some great ideas and some great moments, but it never seems to have a clear sense of just what it’s trying to achieve, and as such it can’t help but wind up an unsatisfactory experience.

Of course, any film that stars Caroline Munro and Joe Spinnell can never be a total loss, even if it’s not up to the standard of their earlier collaboration. Spinnell, unsurprisingly, is more than up to the challenge of portraying the deeply disturbed Vinny Durand. Everything about him screams creepy guy you cross the street to avoid, and much as was the case in Maniac, Spinnell succeeds in making the character as sad and sympathetic as he is terrifying; indeed, I daresay this is all-in-all a more sympathetic portrayal. Now, for those who’ve never seen Maniac, this should be absolutely fine; for those who have, however, it all just feels rather too familiar. Happily, Caroline Munro gets a bit more to do this time around, in what is perhaps one of her most substantial roles. As movie star Jana Bates, she’s slap bang in the middle of the Cannes glamour, and fits right in there. The bulk of the supporting cast aren’t quite so impressive though.

Any horror movie set within the world of movie-making which has a horror movie fanatic as the principle antagonist is immediately setting itself up as having a point to make about the audience’s relationship with these films and their makers. The problem is, it’s never really quite clear what point The Last Horror Film is trying to make. Sure, there are a few portentous bits of dialogue, such as journalists asking Munro if she’s worried about her films inspiring copycats, and – curiously – Spinnell confronting a filmmaker over the graphic gore in his movie, saying he shouldn’t be allowed to shoot such things. Oftentimes the film would seem to be siding with the horror-phobic moralists – but then, as I said, it still revels in the sleazier aspects of the genre. One rapidly loses track of how many voyeuristic shots of anonymous topless sunbathers are thrown in to fill dead time – of which there is a staggering amount. Indeed, one of the biggest problems of The Last Horror Film is how painfully repetitive it gets, with a montage of Cannes set to cheesy soft rock every five minutes or so, and a meandering narrative that leaves you befuddled as to just where they’re going with all this.

And then, once we reach the finale, it seems quite clear that no one involved ever had the first clue where there were going themselves. I won’t spoil anything, but the ending scenes of The Last Horror Film are jarring in the extreme, hinging on a climactic revelation that strains what little logic there is to absolute breaking point – culminating in a cheap gag of a final scene which a) makes no sense whatsoever, and b) ultimately serves to undo pretty much everything that went before and leave you wondering what the hell the point of it all was. Like I said – very, very strange. Still, I wouldn’t dismiss The Last Horror Film as being without entertainment value, but it’s without doubt more a curiosity than anything else.

Much as the film is a somewhat bewildering mixed bag, much the same can be said of this Blu-ray edition from 88 Films, which I gather borrows heavily from the edition previously released in the US by Troma (as the presence of an introduction from Lloyd Kaufman would suggest). This is presented as an uncut edition, but the two brief moments of restored footage are of such a painfully bad picture quality that you half-wonder why they bothered; the moments don’t add much to the film in any case, other than a smidgen more gore, if you can make it out through the thick black shadows cast over the image. Extras-wise it’s a little odd too, as we have an interview with William Lustig – i.e. the director of Maniac – and a videotaped Q&A with Caroline Munro from a screening of Slaughter High… in which The Last Horror Film is not the topic of conversation. Agreeable enough viewing for fans of these people, for certain, but not especially relevant to the film in question. Still, there is a quite touching interview with Luke Walter, a close friend of Spinnell and associate producer on The Last Horror Film, which reflects on his relationship with the late actor, with particular reference to The Last Horror Film.

The Last Horror Film is out now on Blu-Ray in the UK, from 88 Films.

Review by Dustin Hall

The Purge: Anarchy is one of those rare sequels which, at least to my mind, we can pretty much universally agree is better than the first film. Set in the open world of the new Founding Fathers’ America, it escapes the confines of the home invasion motif in which the first film was trapped, and moves us out into a world that, for twelve hours every year, celebrates chaos. At times ham-fisted, at others implausible, this second Purge is however never boring and also stands surprisingly far above its predecessor.

The first Purge was, in many ways, a failure. It had an alarmingly big premise, one which really should have been moved further into the future to allow us to accept it. I refer to the notion of the American population allowing a day once per year to murder, rape, and steal with impunity, in the hopes that for the rest of the year, this ‘purging’ behaviour would allow crime to be eliminated. It’s a ridiculously large social concept, but as with other dystopian ideas – like one where everyone has to die at the age of thirty, or one where we have suicide booths set up to harvest people and turn their bodies into food – it’s really all about the personal story being told, and the metaphor that surrounds the characters. Unfortunately, the first Purge somehow took that metaphor, turned it into a one-off line about homeless people being parasites, and then fell into the trappings of a bland home invasion movie.

Not so in Anarchy. Here the world is filled with horror, intersecting plot-lines, and political commentary abounds throughout. The film follows three groups: a couple who are being hunted by a gang of masked killers, a mother and daughter on the run from a mysterious para-military group, and a man on a Purge of his own for vengeance. The three stories become one as the groups are herded together, and then to a common final destination, where they meet the true villains of the Purge. Though the political elements of the stories can get rather heavy-handed, it is this exploration which really turns this into something more than a typical horror movie; instead it recalls social activist armies from other sci-fi tales, like the recent Snowpiercer, or even the one from the sci-fi camp classic The Running Man.

In the end, The Purge: Anarchy is a natural expansion of the original idea, encompassing the exploration of the premise that the first film needed, but now joyfully unburdened with the need for any opening exposition about what the hell is going on in this future world. Instead, we get a film that jumps right into the action, and remains moving along with intent and intensity for all but a few misstep-minutes of its runtime. While the film still is not as bloody or horrific as the premise could really allow it to be, it still packs enough of a punch, still allows the audience to feel a sense of investment in the characters on offer.

The ideas contained in the film will be divisive for the audience, especially with how much more exploration of the political landscape there is here compared to the first Purge. The political stance of this movie would make Ayn Rand have a coronary. If that’s not a turn off for you, then The Purge: Anarchy is worth checking out.

The Purge: Anarchy is out now in the US, Canada and parts of Europe, and opens in the UK and Ireland on 25th July, via Universal.

Review by Stephanie Scaife

Watching horror screeners can be a bit of a thankless task, especially when they are little known straight-to-DVD titles, so it was a relief to find Across the River to be actually quite good. It would be fair to say that Lorenzo Bianchini’s film won’t be for everyone, as it’s infuriatingly slow at times and it’s not the sort of film where we’re given a lot of explanation. I feel that this works in its favour as all too often we are given lengthy exposition filled and unnecessary dialogue combined with “Boo!” jump scares every five minutes, so it’s refreshing to come across something that is not only a little different but also genuinely scary in places.

Marco (Marco Marchese) is a wildlife researcher working on the Italy/Slovenia border, who sets traps and tags the local animals and monitors their movements using a series of motion sensor cameras. Although these scenes are almost entirely dialogue free and not much happens, they are filmed wonderfully with the colour drained almost entirely from every shot, and the sound design by Davide Piotto is so fantastic that you can pretty much just sit back and relax in this man’s day-to-day existence. However, it isn’t too long until things start to go a bit wrong for Marco… there are screams coming from the woods at night, mysterious garments found floating downstream, and the mauled carcass of a wild pig. Strange things are also showing up on the footage he collects from the motion sensor cameras, with what appears to be two young girls wandering the woodland at night.

It’s actually quite difficult to talk about a film like Across the River, because nothing much really happens, and the things that do happen are best kept quiet for risk of spoiling it. I’ve read some very mixed things online about the film and it will be a challenge for some, especially if you are more inclined to the less subtle aspects of the horror genre, but I found Across the River to be almost hypnotic in its scarcity. By stripping the film of a straightforward narrative it becomes a very different viewing experience, where every action no matter how small has meaning and the tension is so heightened that even the faintest glimmer of a garment behind a tree can suddenly become incredibly creepy. As viewers we’re put right into Marco’s shoes; alone and without any knowledge as to what is happening to us. The score by Stefano Sciascia is also very good, one of the best I’ve heard in a long time actually, and it really elevates the film above being merely a decent horror film into something far more memorable, which is definitely a rarity for the genre.

The film does have some flaws though, there are some odd scenes that don’t really fit in with the rest of the film where we cut to an elderly couple who live locally and who seem to know something about the mysterious goings on in the woods. Who they are or why we occasionally cut to them is somewhat of a mystery to me, perhaps it is merely a way to shoehorn at least some information and dialogue into the film, but I found these scenes a little jarring and they took me out of the main crux of the story around Marco. Overall though, Across the River is one of the stronger genre outputs I’ve seen so far this year and if you like your films to be slow and strange then this may be exactly what you’re looking for.

Across the River is released on Region 2 DVD on 14 July, from Monster Pictures.

Review by Quin

For a while now, I’ve had this idea that there should be an updated live-action reimagining of the classic Famous Studios cartoon Casper the Friendly Ghost. Just completely forget that they already tried it in the 90s with the movie starring Christina Ricci – my version would have no cute CGI cartoony ghost and it would only be connected to the original cartoon and comic in an abstract way. It would also have to be super creepy. After all, it is a children’s cartoon about a dead kid who can’t make friends because he scares them all away. I certainly claim absolutely no intellectual property of this idea. It’s just an idea that’s floating in space that I’d really love to see. But in the meantime, we have something kinda close. I Am A Ghost, written and directed by H.P. Mendoza, is a highly original movie about a friendly ghost and it still manages to be a little scary and beautifully atmospheric.

I Am A Ghost begins with a quote from poet Emily Dickinson: “One need not be a chamber to be haunted. One need not be a house. The Brain has corridors surpassing material place.” Not unlike Emily Dickinson, the benevolent specter of I Am A Ghost, also named Emily, haunts her own house. She seems to be trapped in a sort of Groundhog Day-like existence. She wakes when the sun rises. She yawns and stretches the same way each day. She walks the halls wearing the same white dress. She makes two eggs each morning in an iron skillet, but she never gets around to eating them. When she sits at the table she goes through a ritual of picking up her knife while in a sort of trance, and she aims it at her hand stretched out on the table. Several times she is seen bandaging her hand in the bathroom. Despite the repetition, the action never gets boring. Subtle nuances are added each time and Mendoza’s direction keeps the viewer captivated. Emily’s mundane existence is broken eventually by a disembodied voice. The voice knows her name and is very frightening to Emily. It is soon made clear that the voice is a clairvoyant named Sylvia (hopefully not the now deceased and allegedly, most-likely, and in my opinion fraudulent self-proclaimed psychic Sylvia Brown) who has been trying to help Emily cross over for quite some time. Sylvia is in the same room as Emily, but they cannot see each other. When we first meet Sylvia, she seems to be new to Emily, but Sylvia assures her that they have met like this numerous times and it always ends with Emily running from the room. Each time this happens, Emily forgets everything they talked about previously. It is now up to Sylvia to convince her to stay in the room long enough so she can get enough information about how she died and who she was, so she can help her.

I Am A Ghost is funny, creepy, endearing, beautiful and sad. The whole thing is very simple and to the point, which makes the story move along at the right pace and makes it easy to follow. But when I say it is simple, that doesn’t mean it’s not smart. It is. Mendoza wisely doesn’t let the film fall into any horror stereotypes, and the script takes a plot that at its basic level has been done to death, but spins it in a way that is original. Even when the film gets to its climax, it doesn’t devolve into a cliched scare fest.

The acting is minimal, but brilliant. There are exactly three actors in the film – Anna Ishida who plays Emily being the one we see the most. The woman who plays Sylvia is never seen, but we can tell by her voice she is trustworthy and will most likely be helpful to Emily. I won’t reveal the third character, but they come in during the rising action of the story.

Now back to that Emily Dickinson quote – at one point during one of their sessions, Emily asks Sylvia, “Shouldn’t the living be able to haunt houses as well?” This says volumes about how some people live their lives – haunters of their own living quarters. According to Sylvia, “Hauntings are nothing more than emotional imprints in time.” We the living have lots of those, don’t we?

I Am A Ghost is available in Digital HD and on DVD from Gravitas Ventures. The DVD contains audio commentary, a featurette, deleted and extended scenes, behind the scenes footage and interviews. You can also buy a really cool t-shirt in a wide choice of colors at www.iamaghost.com.

Review by Ben Bussey

Ah, they would have to go and give it a title which promised sequels with the utmost self-assurance. Small wonder that, after flopping in the US, it was retitled Remo: Unarmed and Dangerous in the UK (appropriate enough, though perhaps a little too easy to mix up with the John Candy action comedy Armed and Dangerous which emerged not long thereafter). Given that to date Remo Williams has enjoyed no further adventures the big screen, the temptation is clearly there to mock this film from the get-go, but once again, this was the 80s – brash overconfidence was the order of the day. Orion, mini-studio which came second only to Cannon in the ambitious 80s upstarts ranks, were clearly hoping to create a screen icon of Bond-esque proportions, as their enlisting of seasoned Bond director Guy Hamilton clearly suggests. But even if it failed to kickstart a series, Remo Williams: the Adventure Begins remains a cracking bit of fun which stands apart from most action-adventure films of the era in some interesting ways.

I must confess to being largely unfamiliar with The Destroyer book series on which this film is based, but it’s certainly no surprise to learn this story originated on the page, as it’s pure pulp novel material from start to finish. Fred Ward is a New York cop who, following a mysterious riverside confrontation, finds himself waking up in a private hospital bed with his comedy prosthetic nose and moustache removed a new face, and a new identity: Remo Williams, the latest recruit of a tiny, ultra-secretive organisation devoted to bringing down the long arm of the law on those who believe themselves above it: namely, corrupt politicians and corporate criminals. Filled in on the essentials by his superiors Wilfred Brimley and JA Preston, Remo promptly finds himself shacked up with Chiun, an aged Korean martial arts master played by… erm… Joel Grey. Wilkommen, bienvenue, hwan-yeong. (Thanks once again, Google.) Under Chiun’s harsh tutelage, Remo will become more than a professional assassin; he’ll learn how to dodge bullets, and sprint across wet sand without leaving a footprint. And all the while he’ll still be a wise-cracking all-American smartass.

It’s just such a fun idea straight away, with Remo as this unique mix of superspy, ninja master and blue collar everyman. The casting of Fred Ward was a masterstroke; he’s so far from the classic model of action hero, particularly in the body beautiful 1980s. Ward has a genuine guy-from-the-street charisma which makes him far more endearing than a great many action men of the time. Whilst Remo may gain in skill, he never loses his attitude, nor does Chiun ever stop giving him shit, so we’re happily free from the sentimentality and disengenuous morality that we so often get with these kind of student/teacher relationships. This doesn’t mean you’ll necessarily get over the fact that it’s Joel Grey in fairly obvious make-up as the Korean geriatric. In the extras Grey insists he took some convincing to play the role, and was very concerned about offending the Oriental community; judge for yourselves if he made the right choice. I also have to wonder if this is another of those films on Kim Jong-Un’s shit list…

So how come it flopped? Well, once you get past Remo’s training, the central plotline is a bit dull. There’s some sort of military-industrialist cover-up going on surrounding a defective new model of machine gun which explodes in the face of an unfortunate soldier (one of the few grisly moments which gets the film a 15 certificate – though honestly, I’m sure it’d be fine as a 12), and Kate Mulgrew gets a dry run for her later role in Star Trek: Voyager as the principled Army Major trying to find the truth, only to find an ally in Remo. All very nice in a conspiracy theorist, stick-it-to-the-man kind of way – an outlook which I suspect is rather more popular today than it was in the mid-80s –  but it isn’t really that compelling as the driving force behind what was intended to be an action-adventure epic. Nor does Remo face any particularly worthy adversaries, all the villains proving a bit 2D and forgettable.

As ever, this is a nice package from Arrow Video. The main bonus feature is an interesting one; rather than an in-depth look back at the film itself, we have a 70 minute documentary on 80s action cinema overall, with a number of knowledgeable interview subjects, including academic Susan Jeffords, whose book on the subject – Hard Bodies: Hollywood Masculinity in the Reagan Era – I can highly recommend. While it’s a shame there are no interviews with Ward or Hamilton, we do get a commentary track with producers Larry Spiegel and Judy Goldstein, the aforementioned interview with Joel Grey, plus interviews with make-up artist Carl Fullerton and composer Craig Safan – on which note, I defy anyone to watch this and not have the central refrain stuck in their head for weeks (though sadly it’s missing from the rather naff trailer below – on the strength of which it’s small wonder the film flopped).

Remo Williams: The Adventure Begins is out now on Blu-Ray from Arrow Video.

Review by Ben Bussey

Jakes West’s Video Nasties: Moral Panic, Censorship and Videotape is my favourite documentary from recent years, not only because it’s entertaining and informative, but also because its subject matter is so very important. As I said in my review following the film’s premiere at FrightFest 2010, “this film isn’t just relevant to horror fans; this is a film that is relevant to every adult human being, particularly in Britain. It is a lesson and a warning about the nature of censorship, and the very real threats it presents to civil liberty. It is powerful, enlightening and profoundly important.” I stand by that. Seems Jake West and Marc Morris liked that quote too, as they used it extensively in the publicity for Video Nasties: the Definitive Guide, and four years on I’m still wearing a massive chufty badge about that.

Of course, whilst Video Nasties: Moral Panic, Censorship and Videotape gave us an in-depth history lesson of that era, that was by no means the end of the story. It’s not like the Video Recordings Act went through parliament, all videos had certificates on them, and suddenly everyone calmed down and had a cup of tea. Funny thing about history; it just keeps on going, very often failing to learn from what went before. And so, Video Nasties: Draconian Days picks up directly where the last film left off, following how things developed from the mid-1980s onwards after the passing of the VRA, and how in many respects the situation simply got worse. I approached this follow-up film with perhaps even greater interest than its predecessor, as this one centres on an era that I can vividly recall living through; I was too young to have any connection to the initial video nasty panic, but I clearly recall being aware of the heavy censorship of the mid-80s, and the media hysteria over certain key movies. Above all, I recall being acutely aware of the central figure in the narrative this time around, who takes over from Sir Graham Bright (I still giggle at how inappropriate that man’s name is), Peter Kruger and the notorious Mrs Whitehouse as our new nemesis: introducing Mr James Ferman, director of the British Board of Film Classification from 1975 through to 1999.

One of the reasons I for most appreciated the original Video Nasties documentary – and indeed Video Nasties: the Definitive Guide, which explored each blacklisted film in detail – was that it listed exactly all the films that were banned under the VRA, along with those that came close but were ultimately let off. I found this particularly fascinating as there were a number of films which, prior to this, I had always assumed were video nasties as they too were banned right up until 1999, the most significant ones being The Texas Chainsaw Massacre and The Exorcist. The rather alarming truth of the matter is that these did not fall foul of the VRA, but were kept from public viewing based entirely on the say of Ferman himself.

The film paints a fascinating portrait of Ferman, who it seems was quite the hotbed of contradictions: a former filmmaker himself, he seemed keen to bring an artist’s eye to his work, oftentimes not content to simply excise ‘objectionable’ material but also going so far as to re-edit sequences to alter the meaning. It is noted that, despite all the talk of how imposing a classification system on video was all about protecting children, it was the films that were geared toward adults which were most heavily censored. Nor was horror the only genre under fire, as martial arts and action movies found themselves getting chunks hacked off purely for the appearance of certain forms of weaponry, notably nunchucks, knives and for some reason crossbows, on the grounds of that old bugbear ‘imitable behaviour’ – which, as we’ve seen recently with the ludicrous censorship of Soulmate, is still something the BBFC has a problem with.

Despite all this, Ferman isn’t necessarily a clear-cut moustache-twirling bad guy. Curiously enough, you may actually find yourself siding with him at certain points. One of my few complaints about Video Nasties: Moral Panic, Censorship and Videotape (and it was a very minor complaint) was its clear and obvious bias against the censors, and as such it’s very much to Morris and West’s credit that Draconian Days is a fair bit more balanced – or it may simply be that Ferman, for all his flaws, just wasn’t quite the outright shit that Bright, Kruger and Whitehouse were. There are times when he seems comparatively level-headed, particularly in refuting the tabloid press hysteria blaming the Hungerford massacre on Rambo, and – more notoriously – the murder of James Bulger on Child’s Play 3. (Overeager lefties who tend to blame all censorship on the Tories might also do well to note that one of Ferman’s strongest opponents, campaiging for absurdly strict film censorship following James Bulger, was a Liberal Democrat MP from Liverpool.) Even so, there’s no getting around Ferman’s blatant class snobbery and superiority complex, which more than once saw him go beyond the remit of his job.

As a direct follow-on from 2010’s Video Nasties, I suspect Draconian Days will be most appreciated by those who have already seen the first film. From the look of things a great deal of the film is put together from leftover interview footage shot for the original, but this is hardly a problem; it’s what they’re talking about that matters, and once again it’s all compelling and important stuff. Even so, I won’t deny a slight sense of anticlimax, as the story ends with Ferman’s ultimate resignation in 1999. With all that’s been going on at the BBFC in recent years – gradual relaxation in some areas, but alarming relapses into old-fashioned “ban this sick filth” mode in others – I couldn’t help but feel there’s still more story to tell here. Scope for a third film somewhere down the line, perhaps…?

Naturally, the trailer below is thoroughly NSFW.

Video Nasties: Draconian Days is available as part of Video Nasties: The Definitive Guide Vol. 2, which will be released to DVD on 14th July 2014, from Nucleus Films.

Review by Quin

Doesn’t it feel like there has been a huge influx lately of horror movies about houses? I’ve seen a lot and noticed quite a few titles and DVD covers and posters where the house seems to be the main character – now that I think about it, it’s usually the best actor in the film. Well, the old horror convention that goes back almost a century is that these houses in these movies are haunted. The logical conclusion we can come to (based on experience) is that these houses are haunted by ghosts. The Perfect House does something a bit different with that old premise – this house is haunted by memories. Sure, ghosts seem to be residual manifestations of memories in one way or another in fiction and in ghost hunting reality shows (probably also fiction), but the house here appears to be able to transfer memories to certain people that step inside. This one interesting quality is where my praise for The Perfect House comes to a screeching halt. The rest isn’t the worst thing ever, but it’s definitely not good.

The Perfect House is directed by Kris Hulbert and Randy Kent with a script written by Hulbert. It begins with a family gathering. For the most part it seems pretty mundane, but we keep getting quick flashes of some kind of psychosis in the patriarch of the family. In case you miss these flashes (’cause they are pretty quick) the score lets you know that he’s probably crazy (I know, sometimes the viewer needs a little help). All of a sudden, there’s an awkward outburst and confrontation about a weed wacker – and then the opening credits roll with music that sounds like it was leftover from a Terminator movie, complete with sword clanging or metal sharpening sound effects. I feel it’s important that I explain all of this to you, because it really sets the tone for the rest of the film. The whole normal-but-sort-of-boring stuff switched to high-energy-rage-and-violence, ending with a punchline, is just the sort of thing that makes this movie completely schizophrenic, and not at all in a good way that keeps you guessing what will happen next. Instead it’s dull and predictable, and when there is violence it gets extremely dark, and it’s all just too jarring to enjoy on any of its way too many levels.

This is an anthology film, but the setup I just walked you through isn’t the framing storyline. After the credits, we are introduced to a young couple looking to buy a house. Apart from the weirdly sexual vibes they get from the realtor (whose blouse is practically unbuttoned, and she really wants to show them the bedroom) and the fact that it looks like there is blood on the dining room table (sometimes you have to put up with a little dried blood if you want an already furnished house) everything seems cool; these two are serious buyers and serious idiots. So while they are looking around the place, they keep feeling strange and keep getting chills, but as the viewer, we are treated to memories of things that happened in the house sometime before. The first one is in black and white, so it must have happened a long time ago. What starts off as a family of four playing cards in a basement during a storm, turns into a revelation of incest and child abuse, which isn’t all that startling. I mean, it should be, but it’s really not here. Instead it’s just in spooky, retro black and white and sprinkled with campy acting from mom. As the daughter warns, “She’s going to get sick again.” And then mutters, “It’s not the storm I’m scared of, it’s Mommy.” This is just the first of three stories we are told, and I use the word ‘story’ loosely.

The next one is straight up torture porn about a guy who keeps a girl locked in a cage inside his basement. This one is obviously inspired by the post-modern, self aware, meta-horror of the early 2000’s. The killer even says, “There are no egotistical, corrupt moral motives here…just one man thinning out the herd.” Yawn. Then the final installment comes back around to the family dinner from hell, where Grandpa has decided he is going to force mom to murder all of her children. This is probably the best of the bunch. Again, it gets super dark, but the intensity is really ramped up to eleven, so splatter fans will probably be pleased. There is also an appearance from Felissa Rose (Angela Baker from Sleepaway Camp) and she’s definitely not wasted. She can act and she has to do some pretty difficult stuff here. She pulls it all off very well. Too bad the rest of the cast is so terrible. But the material is where the main problem is. It’s simply bad storytelling.

I have always loved the use of the anthology to tell stories in the horror genre, but this is certainly no Creepshow or better yet, something from Amicus Productions from the 1960’s or early 70’s. In a genre where it’s really hard to sustain terror and fear for the duration of a feature film, the anthology offers a chance to tell much shorter stories that usually pack a bigger punch – as in the old saying that sometimes less is more – whereas the longer the film, the more likely it will take cheap shots and go for things like jump scare fake outs.

The synopsis provided by the filmmakers says it’s “Inspired by the styles of three of the most famous time periods and sub genres of horror.” I’m not really sure what they mean by that – I guess it’s black and white (classic?), torture porn and more torture porn? I think that’s only two. But are those really the most famous time periods in horror? Have these people ever seen a horror movie? I think they watched Psycho (and probably thought it was made around the same time as Bride of Frankenstein) and then watched Saw and said “Let’s make a movie.” And they did it in 14 days. But, good for them. No, seriously. In think that’s awesome. And I’m sure there are going to be lots of people that will love this movie. I’m not one of them. But this review isn’t about me. I gave their movie a shot. I didn’t like. I let you know my feelings in an honest and direct way. Now where’s my list? What do I get to see next?

The Perfect House is released to US DVD on July 22nd, from Wild Eye Releasing.