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Review by Karolina Gruschka

Ben Bussey might have been right when he predicted almost a year ago that Motivational Growth would be a film that is most likely to split audiences. While his response – and that of a few other Abertoir 2013 attendees – was mainly positive, some, myself included, did not enjoy it as much. Why? I do love the kind of out-there film productions, however, Motivational Growth was a bit too pretentious, too wannabe something, for my liking. I am not accusing Don Thacker of lofty intentions, but the end product felt like he was trying hard to add an intellectual angle. All this wise-ass wisdom sharing, from both the Mold and Ian, made me wish for Motivational Growth to be a silent movie.

Although, the story is quite funky: Ian (Adrian DiGiovanni), a guy in his mid-thirties, probably a generation x’er, decides one day not to leave his flat anymore because of what’s-the-point and one-could-get-killed. In a way I can relate to his nihilistic and agoraphobic views and somewhat understand why he chooses to hide away from the world. We are born, we live, we die. The artificial construct that is society just overcomplicates things; who would not sometimes want to freeze time and have a break from it all? Yet, Ian takes it relatively far. When Motivational Growth starts, he has been living as a recluse for 67 weeks. His whole life revolves around his couch. The condition of his flat is vile, he practically eat/sleeps/sits in his own shit, and he himself looks pretty bad, too. More so than art-horrifying the audience, the film displays aesthetic disgust at its best; the worst scene for me is probably Ian squeezing out one of his pimples. If we do get glimpses of the outside, it is through soft focus, making the real world appear dream-like; as opposed to the sharp look of Ian’s flat – his reality.

When his old school TV set, that is also his best buddy (again, something I can relate to), dies, Ian decides that there is no reason for him to go on, either. Making at least some use of his cleaning products, he mixes them to create lethal chlorine gas. What happens next is the appearance of a massive fungus – the Mold – that believes itself to be godlike. The Mold (spoken by Re-Animator Jeffrey Combs) is ubiquitous, and refers to itself solemnly in third person: “The Mold is here to help you, the Mold wants to get you back on your feet, the Mold…, the Mold…”; it really started to annoy me already fairly early into the film, which made it all the more difficult to enjoy Motivational Growth. I cannot help myself, I simply hate verbal repetition, it literally drives me mad. Furthermore, the fact that the Mold keeps on calling the protagonist Jack, despite “the Mold knows” his name is Ian, is irritating as well, and not funny.

Indeed, the Mold does motivate Ian to sort his life out; Ian even starts fancying his neighbour Leah (cute Danielle Doetsch) who he watches every morning through his peephole. However, everything comes at a price; “the Mold has needs” (I am not refering to sexual ones, by the way…)

Motivational Growth is one of those movies that break down the fourth wall; Ian acknowledges the audience by directly addressing the viewer at times. This narrative device comments on his actions and gives us insights to Ian’s thoughts. Per se, this creates a sense of immediacy and solidarity, rather than a distancing effect. However, the neatly constructed and trying-to-be-clever textual content of those monologues, as well as DiGiovanni’s wooden theatrical performance, undo this work and made me feel alienated. In what is practically a one-man-show, I would expect more refined acting; in fact, I preferred the performances of all the smaller characters to DiGiovanni’s.

Motivational Growth is a movie that, in my opinion, has slightly missed the point where the conflation of high brow and popular culture could work. However unfortunate this is, Motivational Growth ain’t all bad. I loved the nod to late 1980s/early 1990s TV & gaming culture and the amazing 8-bit soundtrack by Alex Mauer; nostalgia is mainly what kept me interested and stopped me from walking out (I heart Commodore 64 forever). Moreover, the fact that I had to use some of my grey matter to dope out the ending also aided in keeping me engaged, to some extent. As an advice to all the TV producers out there, take an example on Motivational Growth and re-create ‘Death Yoga’, a TV show in Ian’s world – I’d definitely watch it, “You feel me? All that stress and shit, you just gotta let it go”.

Motivational Growth will spread, and shit, on 30th September 2014 through VOD worldwide (it hits DVD & Blu-ray in Canada on the same day, then US DVD & Blu-ray on October 7th). The Mold wants you to check it out, see for yourself and join the debate.

Review by Stephanie Scaife

Killer Klowns from Outer Space is not a good film, but for those of my generation it certainly invokes a certain amount of nostalgia. This was definitely one of those titles that was popular in the playground when I was at school; I think the title along with the ridiculous plot, mind-blowing set pieces and tame levels of violence contributed to it being a huge hit amongst kids in the late 80s and now as a cult curiosity amongst horror aficionados. I have to admit that my memory of the film was quite far removed from the actuality of watching it 20 plus years later; that’s not to say that it doesn’t have its moments, but overall it’s a movie very much of its time that would probably never be made today. It’s somewhat of a shame that the likes of The Asylum and Syfy produce spectacle films on a super low budget with appalling CGI effects, leaving this type of genre lover’s passion project with in-camera effects and pastiche as a thing of the past.

Written and directed by the Chiodo Brothers, who are better known for their special effects work, Killer Klowns from Outer Space is proof that films were sold based on their title alone way before Sharknado came along. The premise is simple: a big top-shaped spacecraft crash lands on earth and blood thirsty clowns emerge to wreak havoc upon a small town. Mike (Grant Cramer) and Debbie (Suzanne Snyder) are the young couple at the centre of the chaos as they investigate what they think is a meteor crash, only to discover that giant alien clowns are in fact turning locals into cotton candy.

Rewatching this film, what immediately struck me was just how unfazed the local inhabitants are by these mutant clowns, initially being amused or charmed by them, despite their pointed teeth and freakish appearance. In one scene five giant clowns emerge from a tiny car holding cream pies and a passing security guard tells them to leave before innocently asking, “what are you going to do with those pies?” which are them thrown at him, causing him to dissolve into a puddle of cream pie ooze to which one of the clowns adds a cherry to the top. In another scene a group of people waiting at a bus stop are charmed by this hideous giant clown doing bizarre shadow puppets, even though it’s clearly very weird and creepy. But then again, that is undoubtedly part of the appeal of the film – precisely how ridiculous it is.

This should give you a good idea as to the tone of the film, which I think also adds to its cult status. It clearly thinks it’s being intentionally funny when it in fact isn’t very funny at all; it is mostly just peculiar and very, very camp. I think it says a lot that the Chiodo Brothers have since stuck to special effects and not to writing and directing as that’s clearly where their skills lie. As I mentioned there are some very impressive set pieces here and these are essentially the primary reason for watching this film; my favourite involves a giant, vibrantly-coloured vacuum cleaner that is used to hoover up all the human cotton candy cocoons which the clowns then pierce with giant bendy straws and drink blood from. Yes, it really is as nuts as it sounds…

This is an oddity and a curiosity that warrants a watch for its sheer audacity and ingenious visual effects. However, it’s so stupid and badly written that I found little to enjoy overall. Much like when I recently revisited Masters of the Universe (which I absolutely loved as a kid), it’s true that there are some things best left to the embellishment of nostalgia where it stays forever as the childhood wonder, not the badly written, poorly acted mess you see as an adult.

Being an Arrow release there are many great special features on this new Blu-ray release including audio commentary, featurettes, a blooper reel and much more, all of which have been lovingly put together and for the most part are worth watching. I particularly enjoyed the audition tapes of the Klowns.

Killer Klowns from Outer Space is out now on UK Blu-ray from Arrow Video.

Review by Quin

I always find it interesting how two people can watch the same movie, and one can be totally unfazed by what they see while the other is completely freaked out. I read a review of The Quiet Ones where the critic said that he watched it with his hands near his eyes while his body was positioned way down in his seat. When I watched it, I didn’t feel a single ounce of fear or dread or even the heebie-jeebies. Now, I’m not trying to say that I’m some tough guy or whatever. I will be the first to admit that the silliest things have given me nightmares over the years. The Quiet Ones just isn’t scary. The good news is that I’m not completely convinced that it’s trying to be. It is well-made, well-acted, and has a great retro look that is successful in a realistic and non-costume-y way. But if you are looking for a good scare from a ghost story, you may want to pass on this one. This movie is all about the story and the relationship between its characters.

The Quiet Ones begins with the now cliched proclamation that it is inspired by actual events. This has become about as boring and predictable as the old guy at the gas station who tells the kids not to go into the woods. But after a bit of research, I found out that the true story that this movie is inspired by is just a tiny piece of what we see on screen with much of the details completely changed. So, kudos to the writer for showing some creativity. And as I said before, the story is pretty good. The name The Quiet Ones refers to a group of college students who are working with an abnormal psychology professor on an experiment that may be more paranormal than psychological. With the leadership of Professor Coupland, Krissi, Harry and AV guy Brian attempt to help figure out if a young girl named Jane is suffering from mental illness or if she is possibly possessed by an evil spirit. This is all done by locking the girl up in a room, depriving her of sleep and then performing seances and hypnosis in the evenings.

The group promptly loses funding from the University of Oxford and is then forced to conduct their experiments in a creepy old house. As you might guess, the experiments escalate into violence and terror for the group, and this all happens in said creepy old house. Things stay pretty dark except for the light given off by the equipment that is used for hypnosis. Gadgets spin, and wires connected to boxes with dials go buzz. The same critic whom I mentioned was scared during this film mentioned that he has a fetish for such old-timey medical gadgetry, so if you are into that sort of thing, you are definitely going to love the look of the experiments. Great care and time is taken with many of these scenes, so they never feel rushed. But for me, these scenes just weren’t scary enough. They were missing something that I just can’t put my finger on. Perhaps it would have helped if I had seen it on a big screen in a crowded theatre. I think watching a horror movie on an iPad or computer can suck all the scary out of a horror film – much the same way that I believe HD and digital video undoes the cinematography of older movies shot on film.

If you don’t mind that The Quiet Ones might not be very scary and want to see an interesting story with good characters then you may be pleasantly surprised by this. The plot is simple, but there is enough drama and love triangles between the characters to keep most people entertained. The acting is also very much worth noting. Particularly, the part of Coupland is played by Jared Harris. He’s an actor who has been around a long time and most recently found enormous success on the television show Mad Men. He’s off that show now, so perhaps we’ll see him do some more movies. In the Quiet Ones, Harris plays Coupland with an underlying anger that feels pretty sinister at times, but there is also a sadness as well as a mad scientist vibe. He is a lot of fun to watch. The other standout performance is from Olivia Cooke as Jane Harper, the girl who is the center of the experiments. She is one of my favorite actresses right now. Like Harris, she is another English thespian known for American television – she plays Emma on the A&E show Bates Motel which is a prequel to the Hitchcock film Psycho. She plays a friend of Norman Bates and is an all around sweet girl, but she is emotionally wounded and sick with Cystic Fibrosis. A very different character than what we see her play in The Quiet Ones. I predict she is going to do great things in her career and I’m sure she’ll be around a long time.

The director of The Quiet Ones is John Pogue. It’s his second directorial effort after Quarantine 2 (which I actually enjoyed), but he’s written the scripts for such films as Ghost Ship and The Skulls, not some of the best movies I’ve seen (and that’s being nice). However, he’s gotten some help with the writing this time from Oren Moverman, who wrote the script for I’m Not There, and wrote and directed Rampart (a great Woody Harrelson corrupt L.A. cop movie) and The Messenger (another Woody Harrelson movie, not the Joan of Arc movie). So much of Moverman’s work is excellent. Together, Pogue and Moverman do pretty well.

I would be remiss without mentioning the fact that this is a British-made film from Hammer Film Productions – obviously a film studio that has such a rich history with horror going back to 1934. After more than 25 years of laying dormant, the studio was re-awakened in 2010 like Dracula from his ancient slumber. The Quiet Ones is Hammer’s fifth release since the revival, and most of what they’ve released so far this century is outstanding. The Quiet Ones is a fine addition to the Hammer canon. And if you’re interested in reading about the real story behind The Quiet Ones, there is a plethora of resources online that tell you all about it – just look up The Philip Experiment. There are even some videos of the seances that took place. But I am a jaded skeptic and I think I have to call bullshit. Without the drama and characters of The Quiet Ones, this would mostly just be people playing with a ouija board in the dark while listening to Slade and T-Rex.

The Quiet Ones is available on Region 1 and 2 DVD from Lionsgate. It is also available for digital download from iTunes and Amazon.

Review by Ben Bussey

The 80s were quite a time for ‘night of’ movies, weren’t they? Fred Dekker gave us 1986’s Night of the Creeps, and Kevin Tenney gave us 1988’s Night of the Demons; but before those, Thom Eberhardt delivered Night of the Comet. Low-budget genre features from fairly inexperienced filmmakers, one and all, but each offering their own unique pleasures. Creeps is easily my personal favourite of the three (and, as much as I hate to admit it, I actually find the original Night of the Demons pretty boring), but in many respects Night of the Comet is the most distinctive, unusual and – perhaps above all else – the most unmistakably 80s of them all.

It’s Christmas time in downtown LA, but Santa isn’t the one everyone’s looking forward to seeing soar across the sky; there’s a comet on the way which hasn’t passed by Earth since the dinosaurs ran the show. However, while most of the city is out on the streets waiting to witness the event first hand, cinema usher Regina (Catherine Mary Stewart) is getting it on with the projectionist in his steel-lined booth, and across town her high school cheerleader sister Samantha (Kelli Maroney) is sleeping in daddy’s toolshed – also steel – following yet another fight with their stepmother. Yet when the girls emerge next morning, the streets are curiously empty, there’s an unnatural red glow in the sky – and where the crowds stood hours earlier, there are now piles of clothes and dust. Yes, it seems that everyone who saw the comet head on has been blown to atoms – and, as the girls soon discover, those who weren’t directly hit by the radiation have been turned into zombies. However, Reggie and Sam are a little more than your average teenage mallrat girls: they’re teenage mallrat girls whose military father has trained them in self-defence, marksmanship and survival. Naturally, the apocalypse doesn’t stand a chance.

The temptation is, of course, to immediately discuss Night of the Comet with reference to other zombie movies and end-of-the-world sci-fi; not hard to do, given it follows the same essential plot beats as Night of the Living Dead, Day of the Triffids et al. However, considering the film specifically as a relic of its era, I find myself likening it to another 1984 film: John Milius’ Red Dawn. Perhaps this is because the dawn (and indeed the midday, afternoon and dusk) are quite literally red in Night of the Comet; perhaps it’s because both films were among the very first PG-13s (which may be evident from the comparative lack of violence, swearing and nudity). What Night of the Comet and Red Dawn share above all, though, is an apocalyptic vision in which teenagers are the only hope for humanity (or, at least, American society). Of course, the key difference is that Milius seemed to approach this idea dead straight, really expecting us to swallow Patrick Swayze, Charlie Sheen and co as hardened freedom fighters – hence Red Dawn is so often held up as a camp classic today. Eberhardt, on the other hand, is clearly out to have a bit more fun with the idea. The notion of a couple of Debbie Gibson-types being mankind’s last chance is beautifully absurd, and Night of the Comet makes the most of this, mocking spoiled daughter stereotypes (as Sam complains in the scene pictured below, “Daddy would’ve gotten us Uzis”) and poking fun at the shallow materialism of the day (our heroines on a free shopping spree to the sound of ‘Girls Just Wanna Have Fun;’ a paramedic in the sinister government lab being envious of their hair).

That said, having fun with the mallrat girl survivors is not the same as making fun of them. I haven’t come across any feminist academic takes on Night of the Comet, but I can’t imagine it being judged too harshly, as this film manages something cinema often seems incapable of doing: presenting tough, resourceful young women who take no shit, yet are also resolutely feminine and down to earth. When we think of most survivalist tough girl characters – take Sharni Vinson in You’re Next as a recent example – they tend to wind up somewhat masculinised, and it’s generally suggested that their violent, self-preserving ways may ultimately be doing them more harm than good. No such concerns here, as Reggie and Sam remain light-hearted and bubbly (but not bubble-headed) in the face of all the adversity that gets thrown in their path. There’s a fantastic moment towards the end when the girls are reunited, and we might anticipate a big emotional outpouring – but instead, the sisters casually compliment one another on their outfits. A healthy message indeed; being an ordinary girl with a love of all the stereotypically girly things, and being a strong woman able to take care of herself and her loved ones – these need not be mutually exclusive conditions. Catherine Mary Stewart and Kelli Maroney both give thoroughly endearing performances, neither one of them overplaying it for obvious laughs.

Given that Stewart and Maroney are clearly the stars of the show, it is a little odd that top billing goes to Robert Beltran (AKA Chakotay AKA that guy with the forehead tattoo on Star Trek: Voyager), who’s ultimately a bit of a fifth wheel as the trucker who crosses paths with the girls and gets caught up in their battle with a bunch of shady scientists, including Mary Woronov (who co-starred with Beltran in earlier movie Eating Raoul, although I know her primarily as Principal Togar from Rock’n’Roll High School). But hey, that’s Hollywood for you.

Arrow Video’s original artwork for this Blu-ray edition, as fetching as it is, may be deemed a tad misleading for those unfamiliar with this movie, because – though there are a few zombies here and there – this isn’t really a zombie movie as such (indeed, the zombie cop pictured only appears in a nightmare sequence). But who really cares? There are more than enough Romero knock-offs out there. Night of the Comet is a hugely enjoyable genre-bender which, while not exactly the most ground-breaking movie ever made, has a fairly unique style and charm of its own, and it’s a pity Thom Eberhardt didn’t go on to make much more of note.

As ever from Arrow, this Blu-ray is a very nice package: the film looks great, and we have commentaries and interviews with Catherine Mary Stewart, Kelli Maroney, Robert Beltran, Mary Woronov and make-up designer David B Miller (though I gather most of these were on the Scream Factory Blu-ray released in the US last year).

Night of the Comet is out now on UK Blu-ray from Arrow Video.

Review by Matt Harries

For some reason the werewolf has never really established itself as the alpha of horror’s bestiary. Lacking the charm of the vampire, the gimmicks of the xenomorph; without the likes of Dracula or Alien to truly immortalise it. Maybe Werewolf Rising would be the film to change that, and at last truly define the lycanthrope’s place in cinema.

Well, you never know.

When I mentioned to a friend that I was reviewing a werewolf film, he wondered in which direction they were going to take the story. A simple question, but one which the makers of the film could probably have done with considering in greater depth than they obviously did. For what we have here is a rather confused and shoddy attempt at a film that itself raises another question: Why bother?

Werewolf Rising is obviously a monster movie, we all know that. In an attempt to support the basic principle of the monster ripping throats and tearing flesh, there needs to be a back story. WR attempts to provide some depth to the tale by providing us with details about leading lady Emma (Melissa Carnell). She’s not just a pretty face, she’s a recovering alcoholic moving back to her childhood home which she has inherited, presumably upon the death of her father. A chance of a fresh start in the forest-covered Arkansas mountains. The old place and its dusty memories has long been guarded by tubby custodian Wayne (Brian Berry), who is clearly quite taken aback by Emma’s bloom into womanhood. Added to the mix we have Wayne’s nephew Johnny-Lee, an escaped convict eking out survival in a shack in the woods. He too has his eyes on Emma, and unlike Wayne, his amorous feelings may be reciprocated.

We also know that there is another, more predatory gaze peering from the shadows. After opening with the usual helicopter shot stock footage that amply demonstrates the isolated natural beauty of the region, we witness the kidnapping of a young woman that seems to be heading toward violence and rape. Rhett (Bill Oberst Jr) is another who has served time, and armed with a blade he is about to subject the poor unfortunate to an ignominious demise, when something lurking in the shadows distracts him from the task at hand. Enter our werewolf, who wounds Rhett but in the tradition of all good horror beasts seems to prefer the flesh of the young and pretty. The young lady dies, and Rhett survives. The werewolf, presumably too full to finish off the sinewy would-be rapist, returns to the forest shadows. As far as the werewolf’s own back story goes, that’s about it. It is enough for us to know there is one out there. That’s all we learn because Rhett, wounded but still alive, has the curse of the lycanthropy bestowed upon him. This is his territory now.

Poor Emma. She has come here to escape her demons but instead she is plunged into a tug of love between porky Wayne and skinny-assed Johnny-Lee. Wayne, in keeping with the spirit of the film, has his own inner beast awakened by Emma, in the shape of his own weakness with the demon drink that causes him to overstep the mark when inviting Emma round for dinner. Johnny-Lee is at least somewhere around Emma’s own age, and his rebellious ways seem to have the desired effect as she agrees to a date with him. Unfortunately Johnny-Lee has his own problems, as the werewolf that was Rhett stalks him via the tried and trusted technique of peering from behind tree trunks. Perhaps the team behind Werewolf Rising could have exploited the wilderness and the predatory hunting from the shadows angle a little more. Apart from allowing a build up of tension as the crafty wolf-man tiptoes around the tree line, it would also have spared us from the great disappointment of the werewolf itself. Suspension of disbelief is one thing, but the idea that Johnny Lee could confuse this Wookie crossed with a bat for a ‘big wolf’ is beyond preposterous. We are also denied that classic staple of the werewolf film, the transformation scene. This is always a good opportunity for the special effects/CGI team to have some fun, but presumably the sight of a bloke stepping into a Chewbacca costume wouldn’t have cut the mustard. In lieu of this we get to see Johnny Lee rolling around doing a few crab arches and running off into the night with a wild look in his eyes.

It says much for a film when the highlight is a buxom young maiden removing her clothing. This comes right at the end, as Emma, by now succumbed to drink and reduced to hysterical blubbering, is pursued into the night and comes across Beatrix (Irena Murphy) waiting by a roaring fire in a silk dressing gown. The chase sequence that leads to Beatrix ranks as one of the most cringe-worthy moments in the film. Emma is shown either sprinting from one angle – pursued by the werewolf who suffers from an all too human lack of pace – or, from the werewolf’s own eye view, from where she staggers about like a drunkard. All the while incessant screaming is laid over the top, as if she could shriek at the top of her lungs, sprint and blub all at once. At one point the chase pauses and Emma rests by a tree. Exhibiting a predatory style apparently gleaned from watching episodes of Scooby Doo, the werewolf jumps out from behind the tree like a panto villain, and off we go again.

Emma crawls and drags herself, exhausted, into the light of the fire where Beatrix stands waiting, ready to reveal a nonsensical plot describing Rhett’s time in prison that sets up the film’s flimsy denouement. Unfortunately the screen time of the shapely damsel is all too brief. She has her neck chewed by the werewolf, feet dangling off the ground. Emma is pinned down by the hairy beast, which transforms (off camera) into a blood and slime covered Rhett. The loose ends of the tale are (sort of) tied up, revealing the nature of her recurring dreams and the blood-legacy of her father. Luckily this all takes a relatively brief 77 minutes.

When watching a film like this you don’t go into it expecting a reinvention of the wheel. From the relatively little known cast you get an idea of the low budget nature of the production. What I was hoping for was some good fun, and maybe some kind of little spin on the werewolf myth that would make me remember Werewolf Rising in a favourable light. Unfortunately the film comes across as muddled and a bit pointless. Giving the characters a past encompassing alcoholism, crime and statutory rape is obviously designed to add some flesh to the bones of the basic plot of ‘werewolf comes to town and wreaks havoc’. This means you have two facets to the film – the back story, and the werewolf stalking. These parts never once threaten to become a cohesive whole. The werewolf could have done with spending a lot more time in the shadows, because when revealed he looks pretty daft. Bill Oberst Jr as Rhett probably gives the stand out performance of the cast. Suitably wild-eyed and intense he is a lot scarier than the beast itself and is somewhat underused.

People might say it’s ‘just a bit of harmless fun’, but Werewolf Rising is trying to be a gory shocker. The interminable sideshow of Wayne hitting the bottle aside, (intentional) humour is not a big part of this movie. Problem is, they obviously didn’t have the time or the budget to properly explore the werewolf’s cinematic potential. The whole thing screams ‘cheapo 80’s horror’, but this is the year 2014. Did we really need another dodgy low rent horror? Presumably these kind of films make money, somewhere. Once again this begs the question; why bother? Honestly I still can’t think of an answer.

Werewolf Rising is out on Region 2 DVD on 22nd September, from Image Entertainment.

Review by Ben Bussey

Ever wondered what would have happened if Brad and Janet in Rocky Horror hadn’t had car trouble right by Dr Frankenfurter’s place, but instead ran afoul of a demonic biker gang, with Janet kidnapped as an offering to Satan and Brad left for dead, only for him to return as an angel of vengeance? Yeah… can’t say I’ve spent too long contemplating that particular question either, but now that you mention it, I can’t deny it sounds like the starting point for a perfectly decent microbudget horror comedy neo-grindhouse exploitation B-movie type thing. And so it is with All Hell Breaks Loose.

Plot-wise, I’ve pretty much told you all you need to know already. Following a mini-massacre of hipsters around a campfire, we meet our Brad and Janet figures Nick (Nick Forrest) and Bobby Sue (Sarah Kobel Marquette) at their quiet, guest-free wedding (they discuss their reasons for doing it alone, but my gut feeling is because it was way cheaper and easier to shoot that way…) Nick’s clearly a mild-mannered kinda guy, but he’s going to get in touch with his inner beast real soon, as that same evening our burly biker bad guys Satan’s Sinners show up, shoot him down and abduct Bobby Sue for their own diabolical purposes. However, a mysterious white-clad stranger in a stetson shows up, gets Nick to brush off those bullet wounds as if they were bird shit, and pops a gun in his hand. That’s right… Nick’s gonna kick arse for the Lord!

It’s funny; I wasn’t totally sold on James Bickert’s Dear God No! when it first came out in the UK, but the fact that it was the first film that came to mind when I saw the trailer for All Hell Breaks Loose may well reflect how deeply Bickert’s film has embedded itself in the consciousness since. Love it or hate it, Dear God No! is as perfect an example of the whole neo-grindhouse sensibility as you might find, and there’s no denying its influence can be felt here; no surprise, given it largely centres on a bunch of belligerent bikers who spend most of their time drinking, watching strippers and inflicting random acts of violence. Still, some viewers may be pleased to hear that All Hell Breaks Loose doesn’t get quite so harsh: hard drinking and vicious unprovoked attacks are there in abundance, sure, but rape is out of the picture – though this is not to say the women in the film are not sexually abused at all, given they’re forced into stripping by threat of violence. All that said, is it necessarily a selling point for a gory grindhouse film to be a bit more politically correct? Perhaps not. But those who found Dear God No! left a bad taste in their mouth may find this marginally more palatable.

Still, let’s not write off All Hell Breaks Loose as nothing more than a direct retread of Dear God No!, as it has plenty of nice little quirks of its own. For one thing, any ‘lost movie from the 70s’ pretence goes out the window right away, given we have a guy wearing an Arnold Schwarzenegger ‘Governator’ T-shirt and another guy who cries “Wolverines!” while running into battle. Sure, there are 70s-isms aplenty, and 80s-isms too for that matter, but I don’t think there’s any mistaking it for a 2010s movie; that self-conscious retroism that arguably began with Rodriguez and Tarantino has, almost paradoxically, become a modern aesthetic. I think the key thing that sets All Hell Breaks Loose apart, though, is the presence of a central male hero, an unequivocal good guy who we can root for; not an archetype we always find in grindhouse. Nick Forrest makes for a great unorthodox hero; given he has both glasses and red hair, everything about him screams “guy who used to get bullied mercilessly every day at school,” so there’s definitely some fun to be had seeing him get some payback. That said, it’s hard to take this as a straight-up hero vs villains tale, as Satan’s Sinners are just a bit too likeable for that. Even their sadism has its charm; after all, one of their number is dubbed Pedophile Pete, not because he’s a kiddie fiddler, but because he likes killing kiddie fiddlers.

Adding to the air of absurdity is the Biblical edge, Satan’s Sinners being quite literally bikers from Hell, and the old cowboy in white being – well – God. Perhaps unsurprisingly this doesn’t pave the way for much deep theological debate, but there are some pertinent questions raised about where the line is drawn between good and evil. More importantly, the supernatural angle allows for some bizarre, physics-defying death scenes, boasting pretty impressive FX for such a clearly cash-strapped production.

This whole wave of neo-grindhouse film remains divisive, and those who haven’t been won over by it so far probably won’t be swayed by All Hell Breaks Loose; but for those who, like myself, have been a bit on the fence about it, this is definitely one of the better entries in the subgenre, and a very respectable debut for director Jeremy Garner and writer The Vocabularist (and I say that as someone who tends not to like cartoonish psuedonyms).

All Hell Breaks Loose is currently looking for distribution – we’ll let you know when we hear more.

Review by Ben Bussey

In an arena typically dominated by filmmakers who often seem to be making no effort at all, we certainly can’t fault writer-director MJ Dixon for ambition. Following on from 2012’s Slasher House, Legacy of Thorn sets out to build a rich mythology around the earlier film’s most formidable figure: a masked colossus wielding a pair of machetes almost as imposing as his own torso. But before we sit back comfortably expecting another by-the-numbers stalk’n’slash fest, it becomes clear that Dixon has something a little more sophisticated in mind, which credits the viewer with greater intelligence than your average cheap and nasty psycho killer flick. Not unlike Slasher House, it doesn’t necessarily hit its target bang on – but it sure as hell gives it a good shot, resulting in a flawed but enjoyable slice of 80s-flavoured microbudget horror.

It all starts out simply enough, with a hot blonde taking a shower and shortly thereafter finding a hulking maniac bursting through the walls out for her blood. However, it quickly transpires this visit wasn’t as unexpected as we might have thought, as the hot blonde in question, Jessica (Jade Wallis), not only knew full well her attacker was coming – she also has a bunch of friends lying in wait to help subdue and capture the big bastard. They’re prepared for their would-be killer because this isn’t the first time they’ve had to fend him off; you see, it’s that rare date of February 29th, and it was the last February 29th when our young heroes – all of whom were in high school at the time – first came under attack by the mysterious assailant, who hacked his way through most of their peers before staging an equally mysterious disappearance before the night was out. You see the pattern emerging; the question is, can they break the cycle and end the once-every-four-years reign of terror?

It’s bold enough to make a semi-sequel (actually a prequel, it turns out) to a microbudget British horror movie which I gather wasn’t all that widely seen. Legacy of Thorn goes one bolder with its pointedly unconventional structure. Setting out to at once tell us both the story of Thorn’s return on 29th February 2012, and what happened when he first came after these young folks on 29th February 2008, Dixon structures the movie along the lines of Christopher Nolan’s Memento: we flit between the 2012 story played out in more or less real time, then to episodes from the 2008 encounter told in reverse order. In other words, we see how the survivors escaped first, then bit by bit we’re shown how it came to that point. A bit flash, perhaps, but it does mean the story unfolds in a rather more interesting way. Slasher movie audiences are so accustomed to having the upper hand, knowing everything the protagonists don’t: for once, the viewer is the one at a disadvantage, and instead of them it’s us trying to piece together the whole picture from the fragments of information we stumble across. Indeed, many questions remain unanswered even once the end credits roll, and it seems the plan is to delve yet further into this universe in a third film, Wrath of Thorn; once again, credit for ambition.

Of course, a grandiose vision is all well and good, but having the means to pull it off is also pretty important – and, not unlike Slasher House, this is where Legacy of Thorn struggles a bit. To give Dixon and co their dues, the readily apparent lack of budget isn’t necessarily that great a problem; for the most part the film is well shot and edited, with a striking colour scheme (a cold blue look for the 2008 scenes, and a more hellish red for 2012). Also in common with its predecessor, it boasts a really good synthesizer and guitar-based soundtrack which wouldn’t sound at all out of place on a much bigger-budgeted movie.

Considerably bigger obstacles, sadly, are the cast and the screenplay. Dixon seems to be very enamoured with old school American genre fare, and his script reflects this: lots of corny “hey motherfucker!”-type lines played with a straight face, and all the cast dressed up in American-style high school clothes, all varsity jackets and cheerleader hot pants. The problem is, this is a film cast with young people from the North West of England, and neither the dialogue nor the costumes are particularly authentic to the region, resulting in a pretty contrived and unnatural atmosphere, not helped by the fact that many of the actors are more than a little on the stiff side. While the agreeably unconventional structure keeps things interesting, there are still a few too many extraneous scenes dominated by dialogue which serve little plot function and just pad the running time out; even at around 95 minutes, it all feels just a little overlong.

Having said all that, a slightly stilted, unnatural quality is generally part-and-parcel to genre fare, and – while perhaps a soupcon more humour wouldn’t have gone amiss – I like that it’s all largely played straight, as opposed to the excessively ironic nudge-wink approach of the new grindhouse. It might not be as well executed as some, but there can be little doubt that Legacy of Thorn is made with real affection for horror movies, burning with desire to make the kind of great blood-and-popcorn entertainment that so many of us grew up on. MJ Dixon and co might not have quite got there yet, but I suspect they might if they keep at it, as I very much hope they will.

Legacy of Thorn is released to Region 0 DVD on 27th October from Mycho Entertainment Group – pre-order here.

Review by Karolina Gruschka

From Dusk Till Dawn, as a series – who would have envisaged this to happen back in 1996? I remember recording it on VHS while my parents were asleep, and then watching it every single day for a couple of weeks. George Clooney, then mainly known from TV Drama, surprised (and absolutely convinced) me as the charismatic gangster Seth Gecko, while Quentin Tarantino conveyed credibly the character of a perverted weirdo with a foot fetish. Both had such an amazing onscreen chemistry which contributed to the genesis of From Dusk Till Dawn becoming a cult classic.

I am neither a fan of remakes, nor of the current trend of churning out a vast amount of TV series (aaargh I can’t catch up anymore), yet I always try to be open minded, and give it a go. Maybe it is curiosity, the chance to see a story from a fresh/different perspective or the opportunity for re-engagement and a continuous experience with certain material. When I heard that Rodriguez was remaking and adapting From Dusk Till Dawn as a TV series I was actually really excited. He still had me when it was anounced that the series is the novel to the short story of the original. After watching the pilot, however, Rodriguez lost me and I knew I was in for a tedious task trying to finish the whole first season.

Some things are simply better left unexplained. If you are going to unravel why Seth got his tattoo, please, please come up with a cool kick-ass reason, not some sentimental bullshit. In the original film Seth mentions to Santanico that he used to be married, but I do not require seeing him bicker and get all emotional with his partner. I think learning about the Gecko’s background made them appear more common, vulnerable, weak and boring, while the original Geckos were, almost like Dracula: dangerous, selfish, unpredictable, yetstrangely alluring. When Clooney goes “Everybody be cool,” I respect him, but D.J. Controna in his clean cut suit (and sometimes ridiculous wannabe gangster sunglasses) uttering the same words makes me just want to reply “oh shut up.” The Fullers come across as a family out of a telenovela (especially young Lindsey Lohan-esque Kate) rather than characters of any substance, and Sex Machine – I got no words for what Rodriguez has done to this character. All in all, if I were to compare the film and the TV characters, the latter are mere shadows of the originals.

Carlos has developed from a reasonable gangster boss to a greedy snake (literally) of lower rank (played by That 70s Show Wilmer Valderrama). On the one hand I do miss the idea that Carlos had chosen the Titty Twister simply because he had seen it driving past a couple of times and therefore, by coincidence condemned the Geckos and Fullers to an eventful night with “exploding psychos”; on the other, I find it intriguing to see him in the series as one of the main string-pullers. Valderrama as Carlos delivers a great performance; hopefully, this series will get him some good movie credits. Eiza Gonzalez, a Mexican singer and telenovela star also gets my thumbs up for her portrayal of sultry Santanico Pandemonium. Having been originally certain that no woman could have nothing on Salma Hayek’s Santanica, Gonzales convinced me otherwise by adding a touch of sweet innocence to the character. The series introduces a new character, Freddie Gonzalez (Jesse Garcia), a family man and ranger on a retribution mission for father figure Sheriff Earl McGraw (Don Johnson) who was killed by the Geckos. He holds it all together by being the one who, like the viewer, tries to find out what the heck is going on.

The basic story of From Dusk Till Dawn is fairly simple: The Gecko brothers, Seth (D.J. Cotrona) and Richie (Zane Holtz) are on the run from law enforcers after a bank heist. In order to increase their chance to make it across the border to Mexico, they abduct the Fullers – dad Jacob (Robert Patrick), daughter Katie (Madison Davenport) and Son Scott (Brandon Soo Hoo) – as a family in an RV is not as suspicious. Once in Mexico, the Geckos are supposed to meet the gangster Carlos in a trucker bar called The Titty Twister. As it turns out, all the bar staff like to suck blood and everyone non-demonic is left to fight for their lives. In the series, Rodriguez does explore the serpent-like vampiric demons far more than in the original movie; for this purpose he draws on Mesoamerican mythology. This is really new and interesting, however, the mystical element does get annoying at times. For instance, Richie has too many visions, too early. Already in the first episode the audience knows that there is more to Richie than sheer sociopathy. I would have preferred if Rodriguez were to play a bit with ambiguity. Furthermore, the whole concept of destiny (as opposed to the original film’s randomness) adds another pile of cheese to the already cheddar flashbacks and parmesan dialogues.

While we get introduced far too early to the vamps and the supernatural aspect, the story develops too slowly. Imagine: A film of 100 min extended to 450 min. Until the characters finally reach the Titty Twister I am bored out of my head. The reason for this might be the fact that having watched the movie I always know what is coming (despite the newly added mystical touch) and instead of viewing it eager to find out what is going to happen next, I am waiting impatiently for certain things to occur. It would be interesting to hear the responses of audiences who have not seen the movie version of From Dusk Till Dawn.

Another thing that also slightly infuriated me was the (ab)use of Tito and Tarantula’s ‘After Dark’ for the intro. In a way I understand why (it was the iconic song of the original movie) but still, this remix lacks the oomph and becomes a rather cheap cultural reference. In fact, there are quite a few cultural references which probably were meant to make me laugh, but instead resulted in head shaking: “it sounds like a freakin’ Bunuel movie”, “give me a bad review on Yelp,” or one of the characters attempting to play Jedi tricks on somebody.

All in all, I did not feel for any of the characters and could not get into the series. This has got me nervous for the TV adaptations that are to follow, such as Scream or 12 Monkeys. I genuinely wish I had something better to say about From Dusk Till Dawn the Series; I really tried. I usually love Robert Rodriguez’ work, and since I got respect for him I will probably watch season 2 as well. Who knows, it might even be better considering it takes off after The Titty Twister, therefore potentially entering new territory.

From Dusk Till Dawn: Season One will be released on 22nd September 2014 by Entertainment One onto DVD. According to the Press Release the discs will also feature audio commentaries, the trailer, a “Best Kills” video, a making of, on set footage, character bios, commercials featuring some of the characters, a featurette and a Q&A with Rodriguez and the cast from the series’ premiere.

Review by Ben Bussey

When it comes to Hollywood outsiders, Joe Dante’s in a class of his own. Not unlike John Landis, he seems generally accepted as directorial royalty in horror circles, despite the fact that comparatively few of the films in his back catalogue can really be classed as horror. The vast majority of his most recognised work was done within the studio system, most of it multiplex-friendly blockbuster fare, yet in common with so many of the biggest names in film from the 1970s onwards he got his start as a protege of Roger Corman, and in more recent years he seems to be returning to that somewhat smaller-scale independent level (his 2010 kiddie horror The Hole was underrated, and I look forward to his upcoming Burying the Ex). And yet, whatever budget or genre he’s working with, there’s an underlying quality to all Dante’s work which seems perfectly attuned to cult sensibilities: sly strands of dark and anarchic humour, stabs at mainstream society, and – not for nothing – nods to film history in abundance.

All this said, who else in late 80s Hollywood – with the possible exception of Tim Burton – could have made a movie like The ‘Burbs? Initially it would seem to be nothing more than your standard mass-appeal American comedy; Tom Hanks is the lead, for crying out loud. Yet it develops into something so thoroughly weird and creepy that it’s a little hard to believe it was able to get made in the studio system at all. Much as he would later do with Gremlins 2: the New Batch, Dante here seems determined to please himself by filling his movie with as many quirks, oddities and nerdy references as possible, whilst still delivering something that can be sold to the masses.

Four years shy of Philadelphia, Hanks was still first and foremost a comedy guy at this point. As ever, he’s cast here as your standard everyman, a down-to-earth suburbanite named Ray, who’s taking the week off work (presumably due to stress, although they don’t delve into this). Ray would seem to be living the dream: beautiful house in a beautiful neighbourhood, a bright son, and – oh yeah – he’s only married to Carrie fucking Fisher (regret to inform this isn’t the one in which she spends a great deal of her screentime cavorting in leopard print underwear: that’s the other Tom Hanks-Carrie Fisher movie, The Man With One Red Shoe).

Yes, it seems our man Ray wants for nothing, but there’s just one problem… he’s bored. He spends all his time obsessing over the trivial dramas of life on the street (or rather, life on the cul-de-sac, but that doesn’t sound as cool), of which there is plenty given the colourful characters he lives next door to, including comic relief over-eater Art (Rick Ducommun, a comedy actor I must confess to knowing nothing of), ex-military hard-ass Rumsfield (the eternally badass Bruce Dern), and young headbanger Ricky (a just-shy-of-rehab Corey Feldman). But when a reclusive new family named the Klopeks move in to the uncharacteristically ramshackle property immediately alongside Ray’s, tongues wag and curiosity runs rampant among this bunch of men with nothing better to do. At first they just think the Klopeks are a bit weird; but when another long-standing member of the community mysteriously up and vanishes, they begin to suspect something more sinister may be afoot.

Essentially, The ‘Burbs is a straightforward enough comedy of errors, hinging on larger than life characters who repeatedly find themselves in thoroughly awkward situations due to misunderstandings. Much ado about nothing, then… except (minor spoiler I suppose) it turns out there is something unsavory about the Klopeks after all. Story-wise, the film does tread a rather tricky tightrope, as on the one hand the joke is on the snooty, paranoid suburbanites for treating the local outsiders with such suspicion and contempt; but on the other hand, this paranoia proves justified. Bit of a mixed message for a film which would for the most part seem designed as a satire on middle class snobbery.

That said, somehow I doubt Dante spent all that much time obsessing over the political overtones; he seems way more interested in piling on the references. There’s kind of a proto-Edgar Wright vibe here, as such emphasis is placed on conveying mundane everyday events through a film geek lens: conflicts between neighbours turning into spaghetti western showdowns, the odd new neighbours appearing to have wandered straight in off the set of The Addams Family (or, as it turns out, The Munsters: the film was shot on the Mockingbird Lane set on the Universal backlot). And, in a particularly eye-catching nightmare sequence, we have Tom Hanks caught in a black magic ritual straight out of Mario Bava. (I’ve embedded that clip below because, well, it’s the best bit.)

There’s plenty to raise a smile, then – but, when all’s said and done, not a great deal to really grab you, and bona fide laughs are a bit thin on the ground. Hanks, Dern and Ducommun make for a watchable enough core trio, and Henry Gibson, Brother Theodore and Courtney Gains are agreeably odd as the Klopeks, but the rest of the cast struggle a little: Carrie Fisher is lumped with a pretty thankless voice of reason/nagging wife role, Corey Feldman’s Bill & Ted schtick gets old fast, and Wendy Schaal is given little to do other than look pretty but ridiculous as Rumsfield’s bimbo-ish wife (she’d play more or less the same role in Dante’s Small Soldiers nine years later).

All in all, The ‘Burbs is a perfectly respectable entry in Dante’s already respectable filmography, but I for one wouldn’t call it one of his best. Still, if you are a fan of this movie this new Blu-ray edition from Arrow Video has plenty to offer, including an early rough cut of the movie, an alternate ending, commentary with writer Dana Olsen, a feature-length documentary and more.

The Burbs is out now on Blu-ray from Arrow Video.

By Svetlana Fedotov

Magicians are pretty freaking sweet. With their billowing capes and sultry assistants, you know the next hour of your life is going to be filled with illusory brain teasers and child-like wonder as cascades of doves flutter from every corner of the stage. From children’s birthday parties to Vegas stage shows to making entire buildings disappear, magicians (or perhaps more properly: illusionists) are a legitimate entertainment trade. But behind their grinning smiles, one must never forget that they could just as well use their quick hands for theft, easily able to slip out your wallet as they are handing you your card. Cloaks follows the story of the latter scenario, where a modern day Robin Hood pick-pockets the rich under the guise of stage magic. Harking back to old vaudeville shows while introducing a modern setting and sharp action scenes, the comic zips through from the dirty streets to the high rises of New York City all the while stealing everything in sight.

Cloaks starts with your average, inner city slum kid named Adam. Bopped around from foster home to foster home, he learns a very specific set of skills and as he ages out of the system, turning to a life a street magic. Covering his face in a blank mask, he only gives his fans an hour warning via Twitter before he’s about to do a show at which he robs only the rich patrons while making giant statues disappear. After each successful appearance, he donates the money he makes to the local orphanage run by a single nun (the saddest type of orphanage), and continues on his merry way. This evening though, Adam quickly stumbles onto another gig, this time a party hosted by some corporate bigwigs, and after attempting to break into a wall safe, is caught by his hosts. Though he attempts his most elaborate of parkour down the side of the building, he is still apprehended, and quickly learns that someone has been looking for him. A group of people who ALL share a certain set of skills and are looking to enroll him in their secret organization, one that runs way deeper than ever imagined.

While Cloaks is not by definition “brutal” or “hellish,” I wanted to review this as something bit more down to earth when it comes to magic comics. I’ve done plenty of coverage on the “witches and wizards,” high fantasy stuff – hell, there seems to be a new magical comic coming out every month – so when I saw something in the same vein, but more grounded in reality, I really wanted to take a look. Cloaks is a great read despite the lack mystical elements to it, and yet it still maintains that sense of wonder found in its sister genre without solely relying on a Vertigo formula. With the whole Robin Hood vibe attached, you get yourself almost a folk tale type feel with a very clear message of rebellion against the status quo. Even the scenes with Adam hopping down a thirty storey building and Kung Fu mastery easily fits into the over-all theme, a reminder that a magician is only as good as his body. Essentially, it can be boiled down to a male Catwoman; if you dig her swag, you’ll dig this book.

The writers, David Henrie and Caleb Monroe, collaborate well together, not afraid to use their very different but specific set of skills for the comic. Henrie, a TV actor and first time comic writer, and Monroe, a relatively new but not unknown author, write a no-frills, catchy story that cuts quick to the action and doesn’t sweat the small stuff. There’s some very smooth dialogue between characters, no doubt in part to Henrie’s years of acting, and is almost tailor made to be adapted to the silver screen. The art by Moriano Navarro is spot on, which is surprising as he is a pretty new as well. He seems to have already figured out his artistic voice and has no trouble adapting to the story. While it’s not exactly unique, his art solid and works well with the comic medium, taking no short cuts when it comes to the details.

Fast paced and sleight of hand, Cloaks hits the shelves this month from BOOM! Studios.

Review by Karolina Gruschka

The Shout; what an odd little film. Watching it felt like listening to Pink Floyd: chilled, mystical, heavy, deep, dreamy, trippy, intricate, surreal, sophisticated, powerful, sensual.

It is a story about the intimacy of marriage, about adultery, about power struggles, about subjective realities, about isolation, about madness, about mysticism, about sound. Based on a short story by Robert Graves from 1929, it was adapted for the screen by Michael Austin in 1978. Despite being referred to as a horror film, I am not sure I would call it such. I do not know what I would call it though.

The Shout is set at an asylum in beautiful Devon during a cricket match between inmates, carers and locals. It is difficult to distinguish between who is insane and who is not, as genius and madness often lie close to each other. Crossley (Alan Bates), one of the inmates, is a highly intelligent man who believes he harbours supernatural powers. While the match proceeds, he tells Robert Graves (Tim Curry) a story that involves himself, fellow inmate Anthony (John Hurt) and nurse Rachel (Susannah York). As simple as this point of departure sounds, the situation is already layered in a complex manner. The film is shown from Graves’ point of view; one could call him the narrator. Through his eyes, we see Crossley tell a ‘true’ story which he admits to vary each time to stop it from becoming false. Now, within the story, we get a deep insight into Anthony, things Crossley could not know (or could he?) Not only is the narration multiply layered, but also, considering that all three are patients of the insane asylum, it is unreliable.

Similarly, it was mind-blowing to discover that the director of The Shout is Polish man Jerzy Skolimowski. When I started watching it, I thought that this is a very English sort of film. However, the production is a vision of an outsider looking at English society, hence, possibly why I, as a foreigner myself, might have picked up immediately on the coding of ‘Englishness’ in The Shout. Only a few minutes into the movie and already I am tripping out.

The disappointment of a childless marriage leaves Anthony and Rachel vulnerable to outside influences. While Anthony finds some excitement in coquetting secretly with the Cobbler’s wife (Carol Drinkwater), Crossley feels he has the right to take Rachel.

Crossley is this enigmatic, menacing and sexual force against which fragile Anthony bears no chance. Using Australian aboriginal magic that he learned living in the outback, Crossley traps Rachel’s soul in a shoe-buckle; as a result he can control her by holding on to the object. Throughout the story, the characters behave in an odd way. Rachel and the Cobbler appear to know about Anthony and the Cobbler’s wife, and both Anthony and Rachel let a fairly rude and dangerous stranger into their home, yet nobody is confrontational, keeping up an appearance of politeness. This demeanour gives The Shout an awkward and uneasy vibe, with a lot going on in-between spoken words. In fact, sound (or the lack of sound) plays a very significant part in the movie. Anthony plays the organ in church and likes to experiment with different sounds for his avant-garde music pieces as a hobby. There are lots of wild tracks of nature sounds in The Shout, interwoven at times with the mystical didgeridoo and synthesizer music by two members of Genesis. I think, because of the awkward pauses in-between text and the ‘emptiness’ of rural Devon, the viewer’s hearing sense is heightened, picking up on all the individual elements of the soundscape. It is therefore no surprise that the movie title comprises a sound; The Shout refers to Crossley’s terror shout – a sound that can kill every living being within a certain radius. Let me tell you, his shout is highly effective. The moment we first encounter Crossley’s dangerous ability could have easily slipped into ridiculousness, but the build up to this instant is justified and worth the experience. It is a multifaceted shout that made me feel uneasy, disturbed and actually slightly queasy. Think of the shout in Aphex Twin’s ‘Come to Daddy’, but with more depth and substance to it.

Back at the cricket match, Graves and the audience witness an event that could be seen as final proof for Crossley’s mystical power, however, while he releases the shout lightning strikes; it remains therefore ambiguous as to whether the shout killed those people or whether it was the lightning. Also, even if we believe Crossley’s story to be true, Anthony and Rachel’s weird behaviour might be a result of Crossley’s confident demeanour and suggestive practices. Combined with the fact that there is a degree of unhappiness in their marriage, Crossley being transparent about his use of ‘magic’ on the couple might influence their psyches. Similarly to Crossley, The Shout is a very weird movie that is equally irresistible.

There is a high calibre of British actors in The Shout, which already in itself is pleasurable to watch for nostalgic reasons. The Blu-ray will be released on 15th September by Network, as part of ‘The British Film’ collection. The disc will comprise the feature, an audio commentary with film connoisseurs Kim Newman and Stephen Jones, the original theatrical trailer, an image gallery and, interestingly, some soundless scenes.

The Shout is available on Blu-ray on 15th September 2014, from Network.