Raindance 2025: Dirty Boy

In the early moments of Dirty Boy, the voiceover of the main character of Isaac (Stan Steinbichler) informs the audience that “Your mind is a bus.” In Isaac’s case, it’s hard to tell who’s at the wheel at any one time, as he’s been raised to obey the strict teaching of a religious cult headed by the fearsome Walter Wentworth (Graham McTavish) and his wife Verity (Susie Porter). In addition, Isaac’s schizophrenia has led to him going off the range both figuratively and literally, leading to various periods of time in isolation to contemplate his actions.

Isaac believes he is becoming a burden to those around him and with frequent visits to the unorthodox Dr. Cronin (Olivia Chenery) at the First Rural Asylum For The Unfortunate doing little to help, he plots an escape. However, with a revelation that the cult may be about to frame him for a serious of ritualistic murders, is his best chance to destroy the whole thing from within and save their next potential victim?

Writer/director Doug Rao takes a familiar horror setting and immediately skews it, the unreliable narration keeping the viewer on their toes as to just what exactly is going on. Ostensibly, Isaac is the hero of the piece but we’re also fed information – sometimes by the Wentworths, sometimes by Isaac’s filter-free alter ego Frankie The Dragon – that our troubled protagonist has done some terrible things in his time, which makes it tricky for those attempting to identify a character for which to truly root.

The religious trappings also extend to the structure of the story, split into chapters with titles such as Genesis, and there are dire consequences to anyone who ignores Walter’s twisted rules as to what his flock shalt or shalt not do. It’s not a huge surprise to learn that the patriarch of the group is a wrong ‘un and his own predilections, justified by his own fervent belief that he has been chosen to grow his flock, both give the movie’s title an extra spin and push the proceedings into yet more disturbing territory. However, in those moments, Rao chooses to suggest rather than force the audience into an explicit endurance test, which is a welcome decision.

McTavish has described Dirty Boy as “the bastard offspring of The Sound Of Music” and he’s pretty much on the money, with the Wentworth clan enjoying a good old singalong in picturesque Austrian locations before forcing one of their number to drink an entire bottle of apple cider vinegar in order to cleanse their impure thoughts. As for Walter, he may not be on screen for the longest time but his deliberate delivery of dialogue and unnerving calmness is one of the film’s strongest suits.

As the lead, Steinbichler has to get to grips with an extremely complex character whose outward sweetness and awkwardness conceals a heart of darkness – or does it? It’s a bold performance and he handles both the dramatic and the queasily comedic which a surefootedness that consistently engages. Isaac may not be a role model, but there’s an empathy inherent in his plight and there’s a fascination as to how he’s going to react next, honourably or otherwise.

As a parable of how evil is allowed to run rampant under the cover of religion, Dirty Boy isn’t unique in that field, but Rao’s visual flair and a knack for the unsettling lift it above the norm. If anything, there are too many ideas struggling for space and Isaac’s one ally Hope (see what they did there?), played by an excellent but underused Honor Gillies, is almost lost in the shuffle but it’s the overarching ambition and the refusal to allow the viewer time to breathe which impresses.

The shifts into the darkest of humour may be too extreme for some and the main Chenery/Steinbichler vignette could easily be a glimpse into a totally separate movie, but the parameters of this very weird world are able to bend without breaking. This is also evident in the climax which, although opting for a more recognisable type of resolution, heads off somewhere else and casually drops in a final, amusingly disturbing kicker. Dirty Boy may not always land correctly, but it takes a number of pleasingly big jumps and Doug Rao is definitely one to keep an eye on.

Dirty Boy (2024) featured at this year’s Raindance Film Festival.

Raindance 2025: If You Should Leave Before Me

Mark (Shane P. Allen) and Joshua (John Wilcox) are a married couple whose loving relationship has come under recent stress due to a tragic event. Despite the fact that a wedge has clearly been driven between them, they choose to focus instead on their work, which is to guide recently deceased souls into the afterlife. However, at some point, the couple is going to be forced to address the elephant in the room…

Written and directed by The Andersons (Boyd and J. Markus), If You Should Leave Before Me (2025) takes its slightly outlandish and episodic premise to investigate the joy, sadness and fragility of existence itself with a warm sense of humour and a naturalistic approach to the many ways we try to cope with death. Only in this case, it’s mostly folks trying to come to terms with their own death, aided and occasionally abetted by Mark and Joshua.

Set in the home of our main characters, the introduction of their unwitting – and often unwilling – customers is innovative, as each new challenge arrives in the shape of a door which appears and then leads them to a very specific area, which is designed according to the life of the person who has passed. For instance, the initial onscreen encounter with a woman called Bonnie takes place in “budget Narnia,” which appears to be both a glimpse into Bonnie’s headspace and a sly comment on the indie constraints the movie is working within.

This fantasy drama possesses the structure of an anthology movie as our intrepid duo find themselves in different stories which require them to discover the essence of their latest subject and overcome fear and obstacles in order to steer them towards the light. As with life itself, some of these assignments are relatively straightforward, but some take far longer than expected and so the normal “there’ll be another segment in fifteen minutes” expectation of that subgenre is subverted. Those side quests overlap, particularly when it comes to an obstructive, homophobic German called Gunter who’s immediately dubbed “Nazi Man” by an annoyed Joshua. I should mention Tom Noga’s work as Gunter, a seemingly dreadful bigot at first glance, but with far more going on under the surface.

The early rifts in both the visuals and the day to day verbal sparring between Mark and Joshua hint strongly at what’s wrong between the two of them and the early reveal of that is welcome, as the resulting fallout pushes the second half of the movie into potentially devastating emotional territory while keeping the framing device intact, causing the pair to confront the issues they’ve been so politely trying to avoid.

The inclusion of a malign presence which attempts to tear our protagonists from their world and into the next gives If You Should Leave Before Me a horror-adjacent edge, but terror fans should temper their expectations accordingly. This is a romantic and comedic tale first and foremost, albeit with a sure grasp on its willingness to hop into unexpected genre territory. The martial arts action sequence is a delight, a deliberately mannered and increasingly bloody scrap that would jar in most circumstances, but fits the “anything goes” ethos of this film perfectly.

In the two central roles, Allen and Wilcox complement each other wonderfully, the former with his measured, reflective methods and the latter’s more effusive, heart on his sleeve approach to life. I began their journey with slight puzzlement at how they ended up together, but the story and performances paint in those crucial details as to what makes a union tick and as the piece moves into its last act my feeling was “Of course they’re together, they’re perfect for each other.”

If You Should Leave Before Me is something of an oddity, of that there’s little doubt, but its peculiarity won me over instantly and the sadness which always lurks in the background, ready to undercut those moments of pure joy, hits hard. This is the point of the review where I will freely admit that I had to pause the screener at just before the hour and a quarter mark to have a cry. At almost two hours on the dot, the pace may occasionally be a tad too leisurely, but The Andersons’ uncommon examination of love and loss is frequently charming, occasionally overwhelming and I loved it.

If You Should Leave Before Me (2025) featured at this year’s Raindance Film Festival on 21st June.

Raindance 2025: Loner

When vlogger Angus (Charlie Robb) gets an opportunity to enjoy the peace and tranquillity of a remote Northumberland retreat, he jumps at the chance to escape the stresses of everyday life and the thought of a digital detox certainly appeals. Well, until he gets there and sets up multiple cameras in order to record his experiences in the midst of nature and what it means to live off the land. However, the noises he hears in the night might not just be the local wildlife. Is an ancient protector of the woods about to make Angus regret he ever left the city?

We’re in that area of horror marked “found footage,” specifically weird things happening in dense forests, in which even the keenest sense of direction gets you nowhere and you’re never going to get so much as one bar on your mobile phone. The Blair Witch Project arguably has something to answer for in terms of the cavalcade of execrable knockoffs which followed it but, over a quarter of a century from Heather’s iconic dribble of snot, the idea of filming yourself in a creepy, isolated place still has legs and Loner brings sufficient freshness to hold the interest, despite a relatively hefty runtime of a hundred minutes.

Early on, it’s clear that most of the action is going to focus on Angus and no one else, which is a bold move in itself as this leaves Robb to carry the entire weight of the piece via a series of monologues and escalating personal disasters. Initially, he’s full of terrible jokes and a certain level of self-deprecation – performative or otherwise – but as the unfamiliar surroundings cause his nerves to shred, those jokes turn to increasingly nervous laughter and self-loathing, suggesting that he may be just as big a danger to himself as any creature of myth lurking in the undergrowth.

Angus’ excitement about celebrating his forthcoming thirtieth birthday and using that landmark as a platform to reinvent himself soon gives way to various items going missing from the cabin, supplies dwindling and the spectre of partner Katie coming back to haunt him in a big way. An early line of dialogue about proving to himself that he’s good at something gives more than a peep into the soul of someone who comes across as a little too much, because he doesn’t believe he’s worth a great deal. Although there’s still a little guilty and darkly comic enjoyment to be had at him being toyed with by forces beyond his control, there’s a depth of characterisation that isn’t often present in this kind of movie.

Loner does check in at some of the subgenre’s waypoints, such as disquieting noises in the distance and the odd jump scare as something unexpected swings into view, but there are detours into generally unexplored territory to keep the viewer invested. A running gag about a mischievous presence stealing items of increasing importance is horrible fun and leads to Angus attempting to channel his inner Bear Grylls. Elsewhere, the existence of a handy guide about local myths and legends suggests that Angus possibly doesn’t have to take on the Big Bad but barter with it in terms of offerings, which results in…actually, that’s too gross to spoil.

Robb’s performance is interestingly poised and the balancing act between sympathetic and downright bloody annoying is specifically tested in that first act. However, as the plot progresses, the unveiling of Angus as a rather lonely and tragic figure should win over a lot of folks – unless you’re here for the psychological torture, in which case, fill your boots with this and never ask me to meet you for a coffee anywhere.

Yes, it’s possibly around fifteen minutes too long to truly grip. Yes, you may find the ultimate reveal a little bewildering, maybe even a little disappointing, if you’re waiting for a genuinely unhinged climax. However, I enjoyed the late swerve it took before settling on an ending that’s both emotional and quietly, effectively disturbing. In a field marked with identikit trudges on a well worn path, at least Loner has the smarts to stride out for much of the way on its own.

Loner features at this year’s Raindance Film Festival, premiering on 21st June 2025.

Bound (2023)

After throwing abusive stepfather figure and local drug dealer Gordy (Bryant Carroll) out of the family home, art student Bella (Alexandra Faye Sadeghian) forlornly hopes that he will stay out of the lives of both her and fragile mother Yeva (Pooya Mohseni). However, he’s back almost instantly, Yeva caving in to Gordy’s pleading and assuring Bella that “your dad isn’t mad.” Bella decides not to wait around to find out, fleeing to New York City with Bandit, her pet flying squirrel.

The Big Apple presents Bella with an opportunity to start again, but what opportunities are available when you’re a homeless runaway? Heading to a coffee shop run by the kindly Owais (Ramin Karimloo) after a night on the streetd results in her getting a job as a trainee barista. Wandering the area further, a sojourn to a nearby dive bar tended by the savvy Marta (Jessica Pimentel) provides Bella with more work and puts a roof over her head (and Bandit’s too, let’s not forget). Wannabe fashion designer Standrick (Jaye Alexander) rounds out Bella’s newfound clan courtesy of a run-in at the clothing store at which he works. As Owais tells Bella early in the proceedings, things will get better but, with the unstable Gordy in pursuit of Bella, is that even possible?

Written and directed by the wonderfully named Isaac Hirotsu Woofter, Bound is a thoughtful, beautifully performed indie drama which immerses the viewer in a meticulously crafted side of New York which is the antithesis of so many glossy “If I can make it there” fairytales. There’s plenty of grit and grime, naturally, but there’s also hope in abundance and an overarching message that family is where you find it. The avoidance of persistent doom is welcome – that’s not to say there aren’t downbeat moments, but the proceedings swerve the usual performatively sombre clichés.

The initial scenes in the city reminded me of late 70s/early 80s Abel Ferrara in terms of the depiction of the NYC “slice of life” away from the touristy centre and, for me, that’s in no way a bad thing. The cinematography of Maximilian Lewin and Jake Simpson doesn’t possess that 42nd Street scuzz of a Driller Killer or Ms. 45, opting for a cleaner, more focused look, but the carefully chosen shots build an accurate picture of the suburbs in a way which gives the area its own distinct personality without ever distracting from the main story.

One of the canny methods by which Woofter brings his screenplay to vivid life is the casting of a cadre of seasoned Broadway professionals, which means the viewer is unlikely to be taken out of the tale by spotting a more recognisable face from a studio production which draws the attention to that performer’s work, rather than being swept along with Bella’s journey. It also means that there’s convincing, nuanced, unshowy work across the board. Pimentel is arguably the most well-known of the players, having appeared in Orange Is The New Black across several seasons, but her portrayal of Marta immediately makes you forget her other work.

Of the more experienced folks in Bound, special mention must go to Bryant Carroll as the twitchy Gordy. As the de facto villain of the piece, he’s well served by Woofter’s uncommon diligence when it comes to giving us a fully fleshed-out bad guy, but Carroll makes Gordy even more than the often unpleasant person whose need for control almost always crosses the line in worrying ways. In many ways, he’s a tragic figure, dogged by personal demons and unable to truly articulate his needs, the resulting frustration often leading to threatened or actual violence. Carroll is remarkable, allowing the watcher to see the constant struggles and psychological issues below the angry surface, which makes Gordy far more interesting than the bogey man he first appears to be.

Of course, the supporting turns could be the best ever and Bound would still not work if the lead weren’t up to the task of carrying much of its emotional weight. Alexandra Faye Sadeghian is phenomenal, giving one of the best performances I’ve seen in a long, long time. Apparently, some of the events are based on her own experiences and, if that’s the case, my sympathies are with her first and foremost: feeding that past into her portrayal of Bella shows a particularly bold and fearless approach to the material.

Our introduction to Bella has her hiding in a treehouse – probably the same treehouse she hid in as a younger child – and her bond with Bandit shows her need for a connection she’s unlikely to receive from her increasingly addled and wraith-like mother. As with most of Bound, Bella’s emotions are measured and realistic, making the moments when she finally breaks down all the more heartbreaking. I’ll admit I paused the movie a couple of times to have a cry myself. It’s that kind of experience.

Also, Bella’s pithy back and forth with Standrick lends the tale some levity and although it’s probably a little of a push to say that Sadeghian and Alexander shine as an unexpectedly comedic double act in the midst of the darkness, their fiery but friendly exchanges are a delight. Alexander is a treat, giving Standrick a defiant edge which is inbuilt from his character’s general trials as a gay man, but also showing his vulnerability and weariness at having to deal with that kind of prejudice on a daily basis. When Bella lashes out and throws out a particular epithet that begins with “f,” Standrick’s reaction is that Bella should take some time out to calm down, but there’s also a side of him that clearly bristles at hearing that word yet again. Again, it’s another great performance in a work brimming with great performances and Alexander is undoubtedly one to look out for in future.

If there’s a section of the movie where Bound isn’t quite as sure of itself it’s the third act, when a coincidence spins the plot off into revenge thriller territory and the bonds between Bella and her city support network are tested, leading to a showdown which is both incredibly messy and too neat at the same time (apologies, you’ll need to see the movie to appreciate that confusing description; it’s a huge spoiler otherwise). Even so, the quality of the writing and acting navigates the odd bumpy spot with skill, leading to a final scene which may be laced with uncertainty, but is also shot through with the promise of what’s to come.

I’m acutely aware of how wanky this is going to sound, but Bound captures the true spirit of independent film making, showcasing the talents of a committed cast and crew making a movie their way without an eye on what is going to play well to an audience. The fact that it had me gripped from start to finish is testament to Woofter’s superb screenplay, a keen sense of pace and a slew of grounded, detailed performances that make the hundred and forty-three minutes fly by. The subject matter may be dark, but it’s handled with a deftness of touch that it never feels like the downer you might be expecting.

Bound (2023) is available to stream now.

The Thicket (2024)

Orphaned as a result of a smallpox epidemic, siblings Jack (Levon Hawke) and Lula Parker (Esme Creed-Miles) leave their homestead and, with their grandfather, begin a journey across forbidding territory to their aunt’s place. A run-in with notorious outlaw Cutthroat Bill (Juliette Lewis) ends with grandfather dead, Lula kidnapped and Jack needing to rescue his sister. Enlisting the help of bounty hunter Reginald Jones (Peter Dinklage) and his grave-digging, rifle-toting partner Eustace Hollow (Gbenga Akinnagbe), their quest takes them through a wintry, deadly landscape towards the no-man’s land known as The Thicket…

Based on a highly regarded Joe R. Lansdale novel and with the screen version announced as far back as 2014, this passion project for Peter Dinklage (he’s also one of the producers) finally began pre-production in 2020, but was stalled by the COVID-19 pandemic. Fast forward to 2023, when filming finally commenced with one major change in the cast, which saw Lewis replacing the original Bill of Noomi Rapace and James Hetfield – yes, that James Hetfield – announced as part of the ensemble. Now, I could spend the rest of the review attempting to crowbar in awful Metallica-based puns but I’m here to tell you about the movie and nothing else matters. I’m not apologising for that one.

It’s easy to scoff at what could be described as stunt casting, but Hetfield is rather good in a supporting role, playing the reluctantly deputised Simon Deasy, tasked by his employer to bring back Jones for his part in an early incident in which said employer attempted to short-change then kill Jones, resulting in Jones demonstrating his deftness with the blade. Yes, there’s some grungy violence in The Thicket but it doesn’t wallow in shootings and stabbings. In fact, some of the nastiest business in the whole movie is carried out just offscreen, leaving the viewer to construct their own particular level of dreadfulness.

On one hand, we’re in classic Western territory, with a band of misfits roaming the wilderness to dispense justice to some bad folks, calling off at the odd town, discussing their mission around the campfire, that kind of thing. However, the inclusion of early vehicular developments give The Thicket an interesting spin, a motorbike speeding past Lula in the opening moments and Jones driving an early form of truck at one point. The snow-covered vistas are also uncommon in this kind of sagebrush saga and add to the atmosphere. It feels like this is a last, blood-soaked hurrah for the Wild West, about to be overtaken by a more civilised form of society.

The focus on the villain of the piece, particularly in the first half, isn’t exactly revisionist, but having the time split between heroes and villains allows for Lewis’ grizzled, scarred Bill to exert more of a hold on the proceedings. Rapace would have been fine in the role, of that there’s no doubt, but the recasting hasn’t damaged the piece. Far from it, as Lewis is chilling throughout and more than a match for the ragtag band of mostly terrified men dragged into her world.

The film is littered with notable acting talent but the generous roster of characters is a little too large for all of them to make an impact, which means that the always superb Macon Blair gets a criminally small amount of screen time. What it does mean is that there’s nothing approaching a duff performance to be found in The Thicket and Dinklage cuts a more rounded hero than most, capable in the action sequences but relying more on his smarts and experience to outwit his enemies. The familiar air of world weariness is there, but this doesn’t lead to him sinking into a whiskey bottle and warning that we all have it coming. Clint already did that, he did it brilliantly, we don’t need it again.

The Thicket is an enjoyable, sometimes gritty oater which could easily cop out by constantly falling back on dark humour to leaven the proceedings and almost never does. It doesn’t lean so far into its grimness to be competing with something like The Proposition, but it’s certainly many shades darker than the average John Wayne flick. The contained nature of the piece means it doesn’t have the epic sweep of a Leone opus (come on, what does?) and a general refusal to stick steadfastly to the usual template runs the risk of corralling itself. However, there’s enough of the unusual about it to make it well worth a watch and Dinklage should be given the necessary kudos for helping to get this made. Like its characters, it’s slightly out of time, but that’s what will provides the hook for many of us.

Having read other takes on the film, there’s some criticism as to not capturing the richness and complexities of the source material. I will admit that it’s a Landsdale book I haven’t yet got around to reading, but even at a hundred and five minutes in length The Thicket is going to be something of a distillation and approximation of the book. In my view, this brings plenty to the table and although there’s a clinical efficiency and unspectacular approach to a number of the kills which may stick in the craw of those looking for The Wild Bunch levels of claret, it fits well with the unromanticised portrayal of this particular period of history. Saddle up and take a ride with this one.

The Thicket is available on Digital Platforms now (released 21st April) and hits DVD on 26th May. Distributed by Signature Entertainment.

Screamboat (2025)

It’s public domain IP time, folks! After Winnie The Pooh: Blood And Honey waded into the concept of bringing horror riffs to classic, childhood favourites, a number of projects were queueing up to put their own scary spin on a number of beloved characters as soon as those pesky copyright issues were out of the way. Peter Pan and Popeye have both been given a macabre makeover and Screamboat is another production to ride that wave, announced just one day after the Steamboat Willie incarnation of a certain mouse was declared. It’s taken longer to get here than masked killer flick The Mouse Trap – let’s be honest, I’ve ordered Blu-Rays that took longer to get here than The Mouse Trap – and with relatively short distance but distance nonetheless, Screamboat may suffer less from the passing association than it could have.

A pre-title card sequence puts our rancorous rodent in play after being unwittingly freed from captivity and his decades of resentment are about to be unleashed on the passengers taking the late night Staten Island Ferry, including Selena (Alison Pittel) who has designs on working in the world of fashion but is running out of enthusiasm as regards her time in the Big Apple. She’s also less than thrilled that she’s part of the high energy, even higher pitched birthday celebrations of a group of “princesses” (geddit?) with names such as Ilsa, Bella and Jazzy (geddit?).

Where Blood And Honey felt like a variation on The Strangers where the original bad guys could have been cut and pasted over with A.A. Milne’s creations, Steven LaMorte’s movie at least takes the standard slasher set-up – a bunch of folks trapped in one location at the mercy of a psycho – and leans the action at least a little into the wheelhouse of its diminutive murderer, whistling while he works and played with panache by David Howard Thornton. Yes, he of Art The Clown infamy, bringing his talents as a mostly silent performer to bear here, whether it’s falling in love with the Final Girl or breaking into a dance routine on the top of a block with which he’s just splattered some poor bloke’s bonce.

With a runtime of a hundred and two minutes, Screamboat threatens to run aground in the middle section, which leaves it becalmed for a while following a breezy first act which gets the craft on the water in timely fashion and chucks in a couple of gruesome early kills for good measure. It’s the section of the movie in which the backstory of Willie is sketched in, courtesy of the voice of experience and exposition that is Barry (played by Jarlath Conroy) who’s playing a less grizzled version of his Bill McDermott from Day Of The Dead. To help him along there’s an animated (well, sorta) flashback, which doesn’t come close to hitting the impressive heights of the similarly formatted opener from Blood And Honey, but doesn’t have its drawback of those subsequent live-action scenes making the viewer long for the cartoon sequence.

The screenplay by LaMorte and Matthew Garcia-Dunn might not be big on the development of its protagonists, other than a potential romantic subplot between Selena and unambitious ferry company employee Pete (Jessy Posey), but its sense of dropping as many people as possible into Willie’s kill zone as possible to be offed in various, bloody ways will be music to the ears of the less discerning gorehound. And if you, like I, have travelled on the Staten Island Ferry and thought “That’s not long enough a trip to sustain a feature length movie” then there’s an unplanned extension to the voyage.

Speaking of unplanned extensions, one of the kills does feature a police officer’s appendage being lopped off in the midst of the film’s one attempt at including a little gratuitous nudity, which it grabs with both hands – not literally, before you get too excited – and unveils with the line “Can you feel the love tonight?.” The frequent, semi references to the House Of Mouse might be about as subtle as the hammer Willie uses to batter one of his victims (before feeding him into the ferry’s propeller to make sure) but this does demonstrate that, as scattershot as the approach is, some thought has also gone into it. I can not deny that.

Shot on board a decommissioned ferry and featuring plenty of good, old fashioned practical effects, Screamboat may feature wobbly acting (save for DHT and the Conroy cameo) but it has genuine production values and a sense of fun that’s lacking in the other spins on public domain horror we’ve been treated to so far. I’m going to forget the digitally rendered fire, it rarely looks good, but if you’ve got a prosthetic dick kicking around from one of the set pieces, why not use it in a hilariously childish way somewhere else? I laughed out loud at this point and I am not embarrassed to admit it. I wasn’t asked to review Citizen Kane here.

The final act may make a slightly odd play for sympathy towards Willie, considering he’s slaughtered a literal boatload of people over the previous hour and a half, but at least this is still undercut with the comic strip-style daftness which permeates the rest of the film and it’s bolstered further by Thornton’s comedic talents. The ending, like so many other slashers, leaves the proceedings open for a potential sequel. The very thought of this may terrify the viewing public far more than anything on display in Screamboat, but I had a far better time with this than I thought I would.

So, is Screamboat a great movie? Absolutely not. However, it takes a potentially flimsy premise and runs with it, resulting in a movie experience that’s often as clunky as the Staten Island Ferry itself, but just about wins through in the end with its weird charm, silly gags and a number of pleasingly gory set pieces. If you’re looking for something undemanding, be our guest.

Screamboat (2025) is currently on limited cinematic release, only at Vue.

The Rule of Jenny Pen (2024)

Judge Stefan Mortensen (Geoffrey Rush) is presiding over his latest case and pronouncing both his contempt and a custodial sentence of sixteen years to the paedophile in his dock when his speech falters, he loses focus and then collapses, having suffered a stroke. Next, he’s being wheeled into the Royal Pine Mews Care Home, an establishment which meets Mortenson’s current financial level, the Judge having fallen foul of investments which have failed.


Once there, Stefan’s dream of a single room where he can’t be bothered is immediately shattered as he’s introduced to roommate Tony Garfield (George Henare), an ex-international rugby player. The carers think the two will get on like a house on fire, but Stefan’s view of the world – and those he perceives to be below his level – is such that his experience of those sportsmen has been watching them dodge rape charges.


However, the prospect of an enforced sidekick pales into insignificance as Stefan discovers there’s a genuinely malevolent presence in this seemingly benign environment. Dave Crealy (John Lithgow) may look, and often behave, like a sweet, slightly lost old man who expresses himself through the puppet of a baby doll called Jenny Pen, but he’s very different out of the sight of the carers, roaming the halls in the early hours and alarming the inhabitants, forcing them to pledge allegiance to Jenny Pen in demeaning and disgusting ways. Crealy sees Mortensen as a worthy target and the new addition is next on the list to answer to the question of who rules the roost.


Director James Ashcroft’s debut feature was the jarring, brutal road movie Coming Home In The Dark and, although this follow up isn’t as explicitly violent, The Rule Of Jenny Pen is no less disturbing, playing on our natural fears of getting old and becoming frail, with fewer ways in which to defend ourselves and with fewer people in our corner. The scenes in which our partially paralysed protagonist struggles to complete basic physical tasks and then begins to lose his cognitive abilities would be chilling enough without Lithgow lurking in the shadows, waiting for his moment to pounce.


Early on in the proceedings, Stefan says, “Where there are no lions, hyenas rule,” and this is the case at Royal Pine Mews as Crealy preys on the weak around him, whether it’s helping himself to the soup of a female resident or subjecting Tony to a prolonged, frightening assault in the dead of night. The ex-Judge decides that Crealy must be stopped, but can he deal with a man who has the nursing staff wrapped around his little finger and can’t see that the bloke’s a psychopath?


Ashcroft sets up an interesting clash between the learned Mortensen, who likes to think deeply about life and quote from A Farewell To Arms, and everyman Cleary, who enjoys dancing a frenetic jig while singing Knees Up Mother Brown. At first, Mortensen’s general arrogance and willingness to humiliate Tony doesn’t exactly paint him as the most sympathetic of characters but he soon learns a lesson in finding out exactly who your friends are. The reveal of Cleary as not only a bully but someone potentially capable of murder ups the stakes and makes for a number of tense, sometimes blackly comic, encounters as he vows to break Mortensen and make him bow to Jenny Pen.


The Rule Of Jenny Pen
capitalises on its unusual setting and its powerhouse performances, delivering an indie horror which relies on its constant sense of threat plus a handful of harrowing scenes, and one or two moments of absolute madness, to keep the viewer on edge. A sequence in which Lithgow gatecrashes a hitherto gentle spot of community ballroom dancing and transforms it into a senior version of a mosh pit is a demented delight.


It has to be said that some suspension of disbelief is required, certainly when it comes to how certain events could happen in a care home without someone either questioning them or at least having some way of recording them, but the screenplay by Ashcroft and Eli Kent throws its focus on the battle between Mortensen and Cleary and mostly keeps the care home staff in the background, except for a few amusingly accurate asides as they deal with the day to day strangeness of their workplace. Of course, the care home’s manager doesn’t believe a word of the accusations against Cleary.


Geoffrey Rush, in his first acting role since 2019’s Storm Boy, portrays Mortenson as a man naturally prone to seeking justice and standing up to the bullies of society, but whose intolerance of those he sees as cowards and fools almost proves his undoing, his air of superiority clouding the judgements of those around him. It’s a nuanced, complex performance, holding up superbly against the frankly terrifying Lithgow, whose marrow-freezing stare and endlessly cruel streak will have audiences dreading the next time he shows up and then climbing the walls waiting for him to get his comeuppance. There’s one particular scene in which he’s introduced as a silhouette and the feeling that something dreadful is going to happen is palpable.


It’s pleasing to see horror which features older, wiser folks in peril as opposed to yet another round of bright young things being chopped into pieces. The Rule Of Jenny Pen is, like the folks in Royal Pine Mews, steadily paced, but this allows the tension to be cranked up to oppressive levels. The final showdown and its aftermath might trigger thoughts of how that last scene came to be without specific ramifications, but it doesn’t derail what’s gone before. We’re enjoying an era in which accomplished actors are giving great performances in the horror genre without immediately being accused of slumming it and long may that continue. Rush and Lithgow are exceptional in a film which is thoroughly unnerving from start to finish.

The Rule of Jenny Pen (2024) is in select cinemas from 14th March 2025.

Heart Eyes (2025)

Recently single Ally (Olivia Holt) feeds her current feelings on romance into a bold pitch for the jewellery company she works for, focusing on doomed couples throughout the ages. This does not sit well with Ally’s boss Crystal (Michaela Watkins) who thinks the ad is in poor taste and could easily be linked to the Heart Eyes Killer, a serial wacko who has been targeting couples for the past couple of Valentine’s Days. To rescue the campaign, Ally is teamed up with hotshot pitch dude Jay (Mason Gooding), the same guy Ally literally bumped into as she stopped for coffee earlier that day.


A meeting at a restaurant to discuss strategy sees Ally and Jay bump heads in the metaphorical sense this time, and the evening looks to be ending early until Ally sees her previous boyfriend arriving with his new girlfriend. In an attempt to salvage something from the lowest point of her already crappy day, Ally pretends Jay is her new beau and makes a point of kissing him in public in front of her ex. What Ally and Jay don’t know is that the Heart Eyes killer has is watching the place and has just added them both to the kill list…


Directed by Josh Ruben, whose previous feature was Werewolves Within, and co-written/co-produced by Christopher Landon, a key creative force in a number of genre entries including the Happy Death Day movies, I went into Heart Eyes hoping for a combination of scares, slashings and snappy scripting common to those titles. I’m happy to report that this new entry into potential franchise territory does not disappoint, ditching the meta trappings of such juggernauts as Scream, but keeping the tense, gory pre-titles action and presenting a list of suspects and a rising body count, all investigated by dogged detectives Hobbs (Devon Sawa) and Shaw (Jordana Brewster). Yes, there is a joke about their surnames.


Comedy horror is a tricky one to get right, that’s for certain. Comedy horror romance is a juggling act inviting failure. However, if you set aside the bloody set pieces and frequent jump scares, Heart Eyes also works terrifically well as a romcom, giving the viewer an amusing but not overplayed meet cute and some classic initial tension between Ally and Jay before throwing various obstacles – and several bodies – in a twisted take on the usual will they, won’t they plot.


Holt is delightful as the reluctant marketing type and even more reluctant battler of a scary murdering type. Ally is given the chucklesome background of a med school dropout who changed careers due to having issues with the sight of blood. As someone who doesn’t flinch at fake claret splattering the screen, but has to fight the urge to throw up whenever I see a drop of the red stuff spilled for real, I was with her.


Gooding, fresh from being the Scream continuation’s human knife magnet, gets to step out of the supporting shadows and proves a more than capable romantic lead. In so many romcoms, his character would be utterly insufferable in act one but his performance, coupled with the writing, plays down the antagonistic aspects of a guy brought in to ostensibly fix the gaffes made by an already ridiculed and emotionally wounded Ally. There’s also the undeniable fact that he’s a very handsome chap, which should go a long way to smoothing over any issues with anyone who has accepted the mission of sitting through the nasty bits to savour this eye candy.


So, let’s take a look at those nasty bits, shot through with humour, but not skimping on some spectacular gore and various painful collisions with body parts and bladed objects. This is a film which knows the value of regular grimaces punctuating the giggles. There’s also an equal opportunity air brought to the who’s saving who of the escalating clashes between mistaken pairing and killer, and those skirmishes are played out in a variety of locations such as a carousel, a police station and a drive-in.


He may no longer be attached to Scream 7 but Christopher Landon has landed on his feet here, helming a breezy slasher which delivers a perfect balance of fun and frights, confidently mixing the sweet with the splattery. As with Wes Craven’s genre savvy opus, this has its own, potentially iconic line in slaughter chic and a similarly convoluted resolution which sets it as a standalone for the time being, but possesses the scope for what could well be a brand new horror franchise. The next incarnation of Ghostface’s ongoing spree will have to go some to match this.

Heart Eyes (2025) is on general release now.

Companion (2025)

Loved-up couple Iris (Sophie Thatcher) and Josh (Jack Quaid) head off for a weekend getaway of what they think will be rustic living, only to find that their accommodation is far swankier than the cabin they’d expected. The place is owned by the well to do, slightly scary Sergey (Rupert Friend) who is currently is involved in a fling with Jack’s friend Kat (Megan Suri). Rounding out the party sextet is the unrelentingly sweet pairing of Eli (Harvey Guillén) and Patrick (Lukas Gage). Iris worries that Kat hates her, but that will turn out to be the very least of her worries…


The trailers for writer/director Drew Hancock’s debut cinema venture made a neat joke about how it was from the studio that brought you The Notebook and the folks behind Barbarian, promising a union of the romantic and the plain batshit crazy. While Companion doesn’t quite reach the latter title’s extremes, nor does it aim to, it still contains a whole host of “oh, they went there” moments, sparked by the early deployment of a central twist which is merely a stepping off point for a highly imaginative, escalating nightmare.


Even the opening sequence – a fruit-based meet-cute between Iris and Josh in a grocery store – is shot as though something’s not quite right, but it’s the discovering of that which means that even a viewing of the trailer is a potential spoiler. Or is it? Don’t read the summary on IMDb, it wrecks the initial surprise and even if you do predict that first act reveal, it’s still a more rewarding feeling than waiting for it to drop and then wondering where the story will head next.


If you are in the camp who did have it spoiled by others, it isn’t like you’re not going to have a good time, as Hancock has a series of hilarious or horrific (or hilarious and horrific) developments lined up while making pithy observations on the state of relationships, be it with the opposite sex or with our smartphones. It’s no great spoiler to divulge that things go wrong – you can’t get six people together in a remote location and have the weekend pass without incident, them’s the rules – but it’s just how, when and why things may go wrong and how much worse things can get which provides the entertainment.


The CVs of the assembled cast feed into the ongoing guessing game. What We Do In The Shadows fans will be intrigued to find out whether Guillén reprises his overqualified doormat role and aficionados of Quaid’s work will wonder just where Josh will sit on his The Boys to Scream VI continuum. Every player in this is given lines which the viewer will feel are so on the nose that a rug pull can’t be far away. I’m not telling.


In a movie of excellent performances, there’s none more excellent than that of Sophie Thatcher, bringing a depth and mystery to Iris that propels the plot and makes it impossible to take your eyes off her. Initially presented as the doting, dutiful girlfriend, is there something about her eagerness to please that isn’t quite on the level, or is she wired to be a genuinely nice person? Again, I’m not telling.


Suffice to say, the tension builds, the early details woven into the tale pay off in spades along the way and the final act delivers on high stakes showdowns and satisfying resolutions, ending with a sequence which is loaded with extraordinary ramifications. I left the cinema with a huge grin on my face, but also a number of questions as to the possible next chapters without ever feeling the need for a sequel.


In years gone by, the early part of the year was considered a graveyard for genre movie releases, a place where failed horror and thriller titles sneaked into cinemas in the hope that they’d make a modest amount of cash from shock-starved fans before slinking off to die quietly on disc on the shelves of Asda. Not so nowadays. Companion disproves that old adage and then some. It made me laugh, it made me grimace, it made me mad, it made me excited, it even made me gasp on occasion. It’s a strong contender for my Top Ten Horror Movies of 2025 and we’re only just into February. Yes, it’s that good. It also includes an eyebrow raise for the ages. See it before someone you know sees it and can’t resist letting you know every single thing about it.

Companion is appearing in cinemas now.

Clone Cops (2024)

A group of outlaws led by Porter (Laura Holloway) finds their hideout discovered by security forces and, following a struggle in which one of their number is critically injured, they must decide whether or not to make their escape or make a stand and defend their fellow criminal. As increasing numbers of law enforcers descend on their no longer safe house, they’re about to make a shocking discovery about their situation…


It’s dystopian future time once more, but anyone bracing themselves for the expected dose of the unrelenting doom the subgenre often provides may find themselves cheered by Danny Domes’ comedic mix of siege thriller and media satire, populated by a group of characters well suited to a video game, including tech boffin Cipher (Allison Shrum), gun aficionado Brick (Ted Welch), teenage dream, martial arts arse-kicker Fera (Quinnlan Ashe) and naïve rookie Kinder (Schyler Tillett).


The video game comparisons are well suited to the overall structure of the plot, with wave after wave of the titular attackers providing fresh challenges to our anti-heroes. The clone cops themselves are highly amusing, all based on one particular specimen and prone to having action pausing, friendly chats with both their duplicates and their intended quarry. The shootouts and fights are also broken up with updates from two insufferably jolly cyberspace personalities and ads for a new, disgusting sounding flavour of gin.


As usual, its outlaws going up against big business – this time an all-powerful organisation going by the name of Nefaricorp. Their US operation is, therefore, known as NefariUS. Geddit? If this level of humour is going to get you groaning, there’s plenty more where that came from, but smarter laughs are also on offer. Also, the fun is occasionally offset by a handful of bonafide hits to the feels and a pleasing twist, which sends the tale in a different direction and ups the stakes for the main protagonists.


Of course, not wishing to divulge the plot swerve does leave my hands tied in terms of specific sequences to look out for, but the various strands of story, though verging on the episodic, remain broadly engaging. For instance, the antics of expert clone manufacturer “One Tank” Frank (Henry Haggard) are often chucklesome, even if the emphasis on an overload of wackiness in the lab-set scenes may have you craving more straightforward, straight-faced thumping of enemies courtesy of the perma-dour Fera.


Yes, trappings such as the limited number of settings, some extended, dialogue heavy takes and digitally created blood and muzzle flashes mark Clone Cops as a low budget affair, but the care and attention shown is evident across the entire runtime, with canny costume choices and excellent production design which lends the film rewatchability in terms of the numerous screen layouts featured throughout. Those inescapable scrolling comments may not have the bite of say, Deadstream, but cover the variety of types splattering the socials, like Outraged Oliver who shows up early on with a ready complaint for every different incident.


Clone Cops may take aim at familiar targets such as online culture, crime shows and the appetite of corporate marketing departments when it comes to transforming anything into a quick buck, but its main purpose is to entertain rather than bury its viewer under a heap of heavy messaging. The promotional push for a series of Hit Squad figures and their battle buggy – and subsequent issues caused by the Hit Squad making their supposedly grand appearance – sums up much of the movie itself, confident enough to make potentially massive set-pieces into daft, throwaway gags so it can progress to its next idea. Not all of it lands, but the willingness to stave off any lag in the proceedings by throwing another concept into the sauce (you’ll understand when you watch the film) keeps the mix simmering until the climactic showdown – which includes a hummable tune and a spot of dancing.


Sticking to Nefaricorp’s guiding principles of constructing a Replican rather than a Replican’t, Clone Cops is the indie antithesis of the rainy, grey, washed out melancholy of Blade Runner, delivering a brightly coloured burst of sci-fi lite that may not lean as hard enough into its many concepts as it should, but nonetheless delivers an amusing take on recognisable tropes while giving the viewer a serviceable adventure yarn, boosted by appealing performances from Shrum and Ashe.

Clone Cops hit VOD on January 31st 2025.

Street Trash (2024)

In the year 2050, the world is in the grip of economic disaster. In South Africa, the city of Cape Town is hardly an exception to the rule, experiencing ninety percent unemployment and daily unrest as the homeless try to survive in a society where it’s just them and the super-rich. Displaced from a middle class which no longer exists, Alex (Donna Cormack-Thomson) is taken in by the friendly Ronald (Sean Cameron Michael) and his bunch of amiable street-dwelling misfits whose aim is to have as quiet a life as possible – until, that is, they uncover a plot by the establishment to exterminate those deemed undesirable with a toxic chemical agent…


I clearly remember renting the original Street Trash on VHS and being stunned at how it was lifted from the morass of most direct-to-tape offerings by being so bizarre and wilfully offensive, to the point of having me crack up laughing on several occasions and subsequently love it to bits. I’m aware it’s a movie that a lot of people don’t like and, if you’ve seen the Jim Muro source material and are on that particular, rather crowded boat, I understand your annoyance.


In the list of movies ripe for a remake, reboot, reimagining, call it what you will, I would not have expected Street Trash to be given that treatment, but here we are. We live in interesting times. When I heard Ryan Kruger was going to be in charge of the new version, it seemed the perfect choice as his previous movie, the frankly bonkers Fried Barry, possessed a great deal of the scuzz and the seemingly random, episodic happenings of Muro’s 1987 opus.


Muro (credited here as J. Michael Muro) and original writer Roy Frumkes are on board as executive producers and there’s still a feel of the ’87 version in the way our jolly band of homeless folks are introduced, although there’s a sharper focus on the main plot and fewer, button-pushing diversions. This time out, you don’t get a vignette in which someone’s severed penis becomes an extended game of piggy in the middle, but there is a nod to that in an early chase sequence in which a powdered variant of Viagra is used to slow down a pursuing police officer.


The contaminated hooch of Frumkes’ story is replaced by a much more sinister agenda, as those flagged as surplus to requirements are experimented upon via injection and aerosol. If you’ve come for the melting, there’s someone leaking neon goo and losing bits of themselves even before the opening title card shows up. From there, we’re spun through a series of RoboCop-style news articles detailing the terrible state of affairs – including the confirmed death of the last rhino on the planet – before homing in on Ronald and his unlikely band of heroes.


No previous knowledge of the origin tale is necessary to enjoy the 2024 incarnation of Street Trash, but for those of us who have seen both, comparisons are inevitable. The OG Frumkes screenplay sets out to assault the viewer’s sensibilities as much as possible and succeeds a fair amount of the time. This redo, co-scripted by Kruger and James C. Williamson, still features a number of awful things happening, but the ludicrous nature of it all is given more emphasis, which goes a long way to taking the edge of the potential offence. That’s not to say that innocent folks being made to dissolve into puddles of goo doesn’t have the necessary punch, but there’s a certain cartoony element to the proceedings and a clear delineation between the good and bad guys which gives the whole thing the air of a very gory pantomime. Oh no, it isn’t, I hear you cry. Oh yes, it is and you’re waiting for the boo-inducing villains to get their comeuppance.


Very much like Muro’s messy mini-maybe-masterpiece, mileage will vary, although in this update it isn’t the level of offence you can stomach, it’s how much of the often puerile humour, often centred on bodily fluids or sex, you can take. If you like the idea of a foul-mouthed, sex and violence obsessed alien called Sockle which only Gary Green’s character of 2-Bit can see, then you’ll most likely enjoy the rest of what Street Trash has to offer. Yes, Gary Green was the titular subject of Fried Barry and is a welcome presence here, giving a welcome, off-kilter turn which you suspect is going to shift in an amusingly different direction come the third act (it does).


For a movie with Trash in the title, the performances aren’t rubbish (See what I did there? Sorry). Sean Cameron Michael is a genial presence as the philosophical Ronald, Cormack-Thomson gives good wronged, out for revenge lass and Joe Vaz rides the lovable/annoying line for all he’s worth as the talky Chef. In terms of the real criminals of the piece, Warrick Grier as the conniving Mayor Mostert and Andrew Roux as the thuggish Officer Maggot are fine, but aren’t given much to do other than being the punchline to a couple of major confrontations.


And this is where Street Trash, unfortunately, does fall down somewhat. The heroes are, for the most part, fun and engaging to follow, but their enemies lack the detail to be genuinely worthy adversaries. There is a point to be made that, come the revolution, the folks in power will prove themselves to be genuinely useless in defending themselves, but a last stanza overthrow of the regime never seems remotely in doubt and perhaps I wanted a little more jeopardy in getting there. Still, it would be churlish to throw the entire film under the bus because of that and seeing the usual “eat the rich” manifesto turned into “melt the rich” is satisfying, if only to see yet more gloopy effects.


So, how does 2024 Street Trash stack up against 1987 Street Trash? I may not be the right person to answer that question, as I’ve seen the 1987 vintage more times than is probably safe for one human being to see it and I should give this young whippersnapper the same level of consideration over a longer period of time. What I can say is that Ryan Kruger has brought his own stamp to the material while maintaining a level of reverence for the audience-baiter upon which it’s based, softening some of the spikier edges to make it more palatable while still delivering on the spilled guts and liquefying limbs.

Street Trash will be available on limited edition Blu-ray from 17th February. Pre order on HMV & Amazon here.