By Ben Bussey
So – Tristan, Nia, Keri and Steph have all given their own accounts on the highs and lows of 2013, and I’ve been intrigued and in some ways very pleased to see that we haven’t just had the same films being listed over and over. I guess that’s partly because we didn’t all see the same films – I for one have missed quite a few that I hope to catch in the near future. But I guess it also reflects the diversity of taste within the BAH staff, and the mixed bag in general that 2013 has been.
Keri already mentioned quite astutely the way we tend to wind up in default disappointment mode when doing these end-of-year round-ups, and while I absolutely get where she’s coming from, I still can’t help feeling a little let down with the overall crop this year. This is mainly because I felt and still feel that 2012 was a really fantastic year, with a slew of great movies which I’m sure will stand the test of time. Still, there may be a few slow-burners among the 2013 releases, which – though they didn’t quite set the world ablaze this year – may well develop a reputation with time.
So, here’s my own personal rundown of the genre movies that I was most impressed with in 2013, in roughly preferential order…
10: Citadel
When I first sat through this at Abertoir 2012, I just had to tune out. The whole young man left alone holding the baby whilst surrounded by danger thing… as a father myself, it just hit too close to home. It was only when I gave it a second chance on its DVD release this year that I came to appreciate what an impressive piece of work it is. I can’t say I particularly enjoyed it, or that I’m in any rush to watch it again, but I have to give credit where it’s due: Citadel really unnerved me, and not too many movies manage that these days. (My review – Tristan’s review. )
9: The Borderlands
Whaddya know – it’s another of the elusive few that has genuinely freaked me out of late, thanks to a wonderfully creepy conclusion that I most definitely won’t be spoiling. The Borderlands also demonstrates how found footage can still work as long as it’s used intelligently, and the filmmakers don’t neglect to tell a fully-rounded story with fully-rounded characters, and make sure to hire decent actors to convey it all. (My review.)
8: The Disco Exorcist
While I’ve yet to catch Discopath (one of Nia’s top ten), I had plenty of mirror ball- tinged fun with this jive-talking little movie, in fact made a couple of years ago, but only released on Region 2 DVD this year. Easily the best grindhouse/rewindhouse flick I’ve seen of late, not only because it apes a 70s aesthetic so brilliantly, but also because – again – it doesn’t neglect to tell a proper story, and to craft some genuinely creepy sequences despite the overall air of absurdity. And where it most deserves applause is how it unabashedly embraces the sexual elements which so many modern pseudo-grindhouse movies shy away from; it’s astonishingly close to soft porn, and I say that with love. (My review.)
7: I Didn’t Come Here To Die
This time last year, all I knew about this movie was that it had one of the worst hack-job DVD covers I’d ever seen. A few months on, that injustice stung even worse, once I saw the movie and found it to be a genuine pleasure. A gory misadventure which also sat on the shelf a couple of years before hitting the streets, it’s a great example of microbudget filmmaking done right (some rather unconvincing day-for-night photography notwithstanding), and takes an agreeably unpredictable approach with material which might initially seem a bit obvious. If you think you’ve seen everything that can be done with a chainsaw, you need to check this one out. (My review.)
6: Motivational Growth
Of all the films I saw at Abertoir 2013, this is one I’m most eager to see again, as I get the impression it’s one of those cases where you see a different film every time. I’m still not sure if I really liked it as such, but I’m intrigued by it, and can honestly say I’ve never seen anything else quite like it; the way it blends diverse elements of body horror, slacker humour and psychological drama in a surreal, theatrical manner. (My review.)
5: Jug Face
Another one that gets a very high score on the uniqueness scale, not to mention big points for atmosphere and performances. We don’t get many movies which are based around such a bizarre core premise, but still credit the audience with enough intelligence to keep up. Jug Face is a fascinating, brilliantly performed piece, though it might not necessarily be anyone’s idea of a good time. (Keri’s review.)
4. You’re Next
Ah, but when it comes to having a good time at the movies, this one surely delivered above all else among widely released horror this year (though, yet again, it’s been on the shelf a couple of years). It is a shame You’re Next underperformed in cinemas, as it certainly had the potential to be a breakthrough hit with more mainstream audiences. It’s not too far removed from The Cabin in the Woods in the way it plays with genre conventions without alienating less genre-literate viewers, and it may well have launched a future scream queen and/or action heroine in Sharni Vinson, as something close to the bastard child of John Rambo and Nancy Thompson. (Dustin’s review.)
3: Byzantium
Another one that really got shafted in cinemas; I’m not sure it played anywhere for more than a week, which is a horrendous injustice given I’ve yet to hear a bad word said about it from anyone who’s seen it. A triumphant return to the supernatural for Neil Jordan, it’s a great showcase for every actor involved, and a really interesting new take on vampire lore, dwelling for once on a parent/child relationship rather than the more usual sexual dynamic. And, of course, it’s got Gemma Arterton in a corset, which can only ever make a film better. (Nia’s review.)
2: Curse of Chucky
No one is more surprised by this than me. Honestly, to date I could take or leave the Child’s Play movies; Bride of Chucky was the only one I ever really gave a damn about, and when I heard a back-to-basics sixth Chucky movie was on the way, I didn’t expect much. Goes to show you never can tell, as this may well be the best movie in the series thus far. Don Mancini has done his creation a great service with this semi-reboot, which makes Chucky well and truly menacing for the first time in ages. More than that, though, Curse of Chucky is a wonderfully atmospheric and tense movie in its own right, making brilliant use of its single location and stellar cast; Fiona Dourif is most definitely an actress to keep an eye on. (My review.)
1: Dead Sushi
Yes, really; my number one film of 2013 is also quite possibly the silliest. What can I say? Dead Sushi was, all things considered, the most satisfying new film experience I had all year. It’s so gloriously off-the-wall, yet so unexpectedly smart with it, brilliantly structured and truly witty. Surely Noboru Iguchi’s best work, it’s a world class comedy with wonderfully absurd gore gags, yet boasting genuinely great action scenes, and – yes – remarkably informative about sushi etiquette and appreciation at the same time. Really, how could any film in which Asami does the robot not be a masterpiece? (Tristan’s review.)
Bonus pick: taking it up to 11 with something that totally isn’t a horror film… Spring Breakers
I guess if Nia’s happy to name this her number one, I should feel no qualms about including it. Either way, I’m eager to reiterate how great Spring Breakers really is, as I don’t think it got half the love it deserved this year. Perhaps in years ahead, when the hype is forgotten, viewers will appreciate how remarkable, powerful and smart it is, and just how much it says about the world today. (My review.)
Guilty Pleasure: Hansel & Gretel Witch Hunters
No, it really isn’t very good. It’s dumb, with a pretty lazy script and in some instances very lazy acting (coughJeremyRennerahem). But so what? It’s fun in that Army of Darkness/Sleepy Hollow way, and even though it comes up deficient in many respects, it’s one of those ones that will be easy to revisit over the years because it’s simple, undemanding and good for a giggle. Also – further evidence that Gemma Arterton in a corset can only make a film better. (My review.)
Biggest Turd of 2013: I Spit On Your Grave 2
I was briefly tempted to say The Strange Colour of Your Body’s Tears here, just to wilfully stir up some shit with my BAH colleagues… but as much as I disliked that one, there’s really no horror film in 2013 that was so painfully misconceived on every level than that rape revenge sequel that absolutely no one asked for. I don’t know what they thought they were doing with this, but it’s just a nasty piece of work in all the wrong ways. Oh, and to the poster quote whores who declared it ‘the best horror sequel ever,’ I hope you realise no one will ever take you seriously again. (Tristan’s review.)
By Kit Rathenar
And this is why, despite the fact that it’s by no means the most profound or truly frightening of John Carpenter’s movies, I’d still say Christine is well worth seeing – as it’s a credit to any director’s talents if he can take a non-speaking, non-human main character and make them believable as a narrative prime mover, and here, Carpenter successfully does just that. Sure, the movie has dated, if only because it’s so strongly located in its signifier place and time (although the special effects hold up surprisingly well) and it does conform very strongly to the mould of eighties genre horror, but if you have any nostalgia at all for that particular cinematic era, Christine is an above-par example that you might well have missed. Likewise if you’re a Carpenter fan in general; this may not be one of his signature films, but if you like his style you’ll probably still find something to enjoy here.
By Comix
By Stephanie Scaife
By Nia Edwards-Behi
Moving from the intellectual to the frankly daft, the first film of the day was the eighties classic The Monster Squad, the heartwarming tale of a gang of horror-loving kids who find themselves facing off against a team of old Universal-style monsters – Dracula, Frankenstein’s monster, the Wolfman, the Mummy, and the Gillman – set on taking over the world in the name of Evil. I’d never seen this before but had had it highly recommended to me by “Necro” Neil of Necronomicon fanzine, and it was everything I’d expected: silly, funny, charming, entertaining and with some wonderful heartstring-tugging moments. A feelgood classic for any horror fan with a surviving inner child, especially perhaps the older ones among us.
In an amusing segue, Roddy Piper featured in the next film as well, but here the context was very different. Cody Knotts’ Pro Wrestlers vs. Zombies is a film that I’m honestly amazed it took this long for someone to make. After all, the traditional zombie movie requires a reasonably sized group of people in an isolated setting, a horde of undead extras, and as many high-tension fights, chases and crisis situations as you can cram into the plot. To make the living faction pro wrestlers – who have a plausible reason to all be together in a random large building, and already possess the necessary instincts to hit someone with a chair first and ask questions later – seems, if you’ll pardon the phrase, a no-brainer.
I, however, wasn’t to be seen again until Sunday morning when I arrived for a screening of Peter Newbrook’s The Asphyx, which is terribly British, terribly seventies, and… well, mostly just terrible, to be honest. Following the tragic deaths of his second wife and grownup son in a boating accident, scientist, psychical researcher and photography buff Sir Hugo Cunningham becomes obsessed with the desire to identify the mysterious entities that can be seen on photographic images of the dying; these turn out to be the so-called “asphyxes”, psychopomps of sorts that unite with a dying person’s spiritual essence and apparently consume it. He then starts trying to trap asphyxes with the help of his adopted son Giles, and descends rapidly into a deranged quest for immortality whose exact motivation is never wholly clear. By halfway into this movie the entire theatre was snickering, as the characterisation and scripting grew too absurd for anyone to endure with a straight face; outrageously hammy, far-fetched and implausible, and generally reminiscent of the worst excesses of the Frankenstein cinematic heritage. I was half expecting a hunchback named Igor to wander into the plot with no explanation required. One element of this film that I did like was the asphyxes themselves, hideous half-formed creatures that can only be seen and trapped by a specific type and frequency of light – despite the limitations of early seventies special effects, these writhing, screaming little horrors are authentically unsettling enough to stick around in your nightmares for a while afterwards. Mind you, so will the rest of this film, but very much for the wrong reasons.
Which, predictably enough, I really, really enjoyed. The effects may be old and the sets and atmosphere of the film partake strongly of the classic BBC sci-fi tradition, but like They Live, Quatermass and the Pit has utterly failed to date in its insights into the politics of power, the limits of military authority and competence, and the pros and cons of transparency in public affairs. When mysterious skeletons and a strange metallic artefact are discovered during the extension of a London Tube station, the authorities involved make all the same mistakes that we’d expect to see now, and the infighting, politicking and self-interest at play are depressingly familiar. But since this is a classic film and not a modern one, we’re given a ray of hope in the form of the redoubtable Professor Quatermass, who strides through the chaos taking a determined if extremely Old British stand for science, reason and the best interests of mankind; one of those courageous, intelligent, capable altruists that the cinematic world seems to be very short on these days. While it’s a relatively low-key film by modern standards (despite the ending having been revised by Hammer from the BBC original to add bigger explosions), Quatermass and the Pit remains a classic of eerie, intelligent horror SF that can still leave a viewer wondering: what if? What if we found something like this? What if the history of the world really does contain something this anomalous, this utterly bizarre? What would it mean, and how would we deal with it? And that’s what SF at its best should always do: make us question what we know, and contemplate what we’re going to do with the things we’re going to know in future. Quatermass and the Pit achieves that and much more. Still a classic.
By the time I returned to the Pavilion the main room was playing host to the 1880s Night event, with live bands and a wide range of performers and entertainers, but I elected instead to go and catch the final couple of films. First up was The Pyramid, an experimental Italian project consisting of four short narratives that link to form a single whole centring on a mysterious artefact: a small decorated pyramid that seems to act as a vector for unimaginable chaos and horror. Each short has a different director, though it’s obvious that all four were shot in very close cohesion with each other as the story continues seamlessly through the transitions between them.
Having sat through that, it was a relief to be able to unwind with the final movie of the festival, Hammer’s Vampire Circus. When a plague-stricken village is visited by a circus, at first the villagers are grateful for the distraction from their woeful state, but it slowly becomes clear that the circus is here for more sinister reasons by far than simply to fleece them of their remaining silver. This is a real extravaganza of escapism in the finest Hammer tradition, complete with stereotyped exotic gypsies and carnival atmosphere, a setting that owes less to history or geography than it does to some sort of collective unconscious of horror cinema, and an erotic charge that’s quite subdued by modern standards but still manages to convey a reminiscence of the frisson it would have induced in a more tight-laced era. While it’s very much of the time and falls rather short of modern ethical and ideological standards in places, this is a great film to simply relax and enjoy the visual spectacle of, and an excellent choice of feelgood sendoff for the festival.
I was hoping for much better from Lou Simon’s Hazmat, which is another take-off on American TV shows: this time, the ones that deal in setting up some poor schmuck for a terrifying prank, candid camera style. When Jacob’s so-called friends call in the hosts of TV show Scary Antics to pull a prank on him, in the setting of the derelict chemical factory where his father was killed in an accident years before and which Jacob is convinced is haunted, everything is clearly going to go wrong, and duly does. Unfortunately, this film is a positive gazetteer of missed opportunities. The potential for a gripping story about purely human good and evil is thrown away by the introduction of a supernatural sideplot so half-arsed that the director had to confirm in the Q&A afterwards that it was even there at all. Conversely, the chance for some high-powered supernatural terror is wasted on scene after scene of the main cast locked in a secure room bickering while the monster is effectively free to put its feet up and have a fag break outside. Hazmat is a case study in that infuriating horror trope of the useless protagonist: these guys don’t do anything, they don’t know what to do to in the first place, and every time one of them attempts to be remotely proactive the others immediately try to stop them. This actually frustrated me so much that I brought it up with director Simon in the Q&A, asking for her thoughts on why so much modern horror seems to rely on making its protagonists so deficient in imagination, aggression or will to survive. Her response? That it’s “just meant to be fun” and you have to overlook this because if you had heroes who actually went after the monster and killed it, it’d be a pretty short movie.
Somewhat more inspiring was Derek Hockenbrough’s The Impaler. Every time I think there’s nothing else you can possibly do with the legend of Dracula someone comes up with yet another scenario, and this is one such: seven (apparently eye-poppingly wealthy) American high-school friends rent out Dracula’s castle in Romania for their post-graduation, pre-college vacation party, and, predictably, find themselves in a world of trouble. Not as obviously as you might think, though, as The Impaler does attempt some psychological ambiguity, rather than just making a straight-up everyone-dies monster flick. The central cast balance on a thin line between ruthlessly well-observed and stereotyped – in twenty years from now, this will be a film that will make anyone who lived through the 2010s wince with recognition – and this pin-sharp sense of zeitgeist meshes strangely and yet somehow successfully with a much more timeless sense of Transylvanian grandeur that owes more to Hammer Horror with a touch of Francis Ford Coppola’s Dracula. The results set up a profound sense of dissonance that resonates throughout the film and is an uncomfortable reminder of just how helpless and useless many of us affluent modern Westerners would be if you took away our technological support base; not to mention how mentally ill-equipped we are to confront real danger. While the surface plot of this film is entertaining enough, in some ways the single greatest horror it shows us is exactly how shallow and messed-up our priorities as human beings are becoming.
This was probably just as well, since by the end of the following offering, Richard Pawelko’s Vampire Guitar, I felt like someone had run my brain through a blender. Let me begin by praising this film: its construction and framing device are genius. Stuck with a budget that wouldn’t run to all the sets and costumes he wanted for his dramatic rock’n’roll tale of a cursed, blood-drinking musical instrument, Pawelko came up with the idea of presenting the story as a radio drama: so we get footage of the actors around a studio microphone delivering their lines in their everyday clothes, intercut with cleverly selected stock footage and symbolic representations of the action that’s going on in the story. It’s a genuinely original response to the financial pressure that indie horror directors invariably face. Unfortunately, the downside is that Vampire Guitar is, therefore, scripted like a vintage BBC radio comedy, but runs to the length of a regular film. It’s like watching someone actually rise to that old Goon Show challenge of “I’d like to see them do that on the television!” and while in principle it does work, this film would have benefited immeasurably from being cut down to a more classic BBC length; the story, and the gags, are too slight to stretch as far as they’re made to here. I’d love to see this framing technique receive more use in future, but perhaps with a lighter touch and a less ambitious narrative.
Next up, however, was a film that clearly had a certain special-guest status at the festival, its makers having been in league with BSIFF for a while and it having been personally backed by festival president Sultan. No horror fan who follows the online gossip can have failed to pick up on the rising swell of publicity for the mysterious Lord of Tears, the “Owlman movie”. There’s been quite a to-whoo (sorry) about this film for months, and consequently there was an eager crowd awaiting its world premiere here on the friendliest turf that director Lawrie Brewster could have hoped for.