DVD Review: Kill Zombie! (aka Zombibi)

Review by Keri O’Shea

What is it with the whole zombie clown thing? Rare is it that in a film which contains zombies, you don’t get a zombie clown – and yet, like nuns, you just don’t get that many of them about. Seriously, I cannot remember the last time I even saw a clown, yet there’s always one in any given city centre during any given zombie apocalypse. But, it seems like Bozo the Undead has become a zombie movie trope, which is okay, and when you see one, you can get a fair idea that the filmmaker in question knows and enjoys their genre. This is true of Kill Zombie!, a movie which definitely knows what it is and where it stands in a now very busy genre – not just a zombie movie, but a zomcom.

We meet Aziz (Yahya Gaier) after a testing twenty-four hours. Aziz had a job where he had to wear a suit, and he worked in a generic Amsterdam office role which had little to recommend it. When he was asked out by the lovely Tess, his day perked up, sure, but then this was counterbalanced by getting fired, thanks to all the phonecalls he kept getting at work from his party animal brother Mo (Mimoun Ouled Radi). Oh well, if you can’t beat ’em, join ’em – so Aziz left the office and headed over to join his brother at a pool party. Shame a fight soon broke out and got the brothers, plus the people they were scrapping with, locked up.

And then a Russian space station fell on the city. This brings us up to speed with Aziz’s current situation.

As we all know, outside of children’s films at least, it’s so rare that we can rightly say it’s impossible that anything falls out of space and makes things on Earth any nicer. In this case, at least the event causes the cell doors to open, and our unlikely group can try to figure out what to do, now that the entire place is filled with walking dead.

In his recent review of Brit zomcom Cockneys vs Zombies, our very own Tristan said, ‘the major problem with a film like Cockneys vs Zombies, or indeed any other British horror comedy, is Shaun of the Dead – a film so perfectly pitched and massively popular that anything else is going to look rather lacking in comparison.’ I’d agree with that, and be inclined to extend what he’s said to outside the UK: the success of Shaun of the Dead has spawned a whole generation of these types of movies worldwide. I won’t say that SOTD was the first funny zombie movie of course, but in recent years it’s been the best, and so in allowing a lot of zomcoms to be made, it’s still in there as the gold standard. For filmmakers following in its wake, this makes things a bit tricky, but perhaps the safest approach has been to make peace with the basic SOTD formula and allow your own film to just throw a few extras in there for good measure. It worked really well for Juan of the Dead and it seems to be what directorial team Martijn Smits and Erwin Ven Den Eshof have gone for here. You’ll recognise a few of the same motifs: the male leads, one daft, one serious, for instance; you’ll also recognise a few of the gags. Where Kill Zombie! goes off on its own is really in the level of blood and guts slapstick it employs.

And there is lots of daft physical humour and slapstick here; okay, it’s not groundbreaking, but it’s pretty universal, and when combined with novel dispatch methods for zombies, there’s plenty of fun to be had. Take a group of people all occasionally pratfalling and then pitch their ineptitude against the walking dead and, voilà! You never knew a man holding a wooden stool could make you laugh. And, to be fair, there were a few moments here when I did, as the kids say, LOL. Kill Zombie! has some well-pitched comedy moments, and the actors are more than capable of being funny. Still, in its mission to be over-the-top, a few of the scenes tested my patience; I hope I’m not spoilering it for anyone when I say there’s a bit which plays out like a game of Street Fighter and that was a bit too wry for me.

Still, what’s important is that Kill Zombie! doesn’t slack off. Just because it isn’t a landmark movie, which it knows, it doesn’t just go through the motions. It takes some of the tropes, like the panicked TV news bulletin, and plays with them; we might be fairly placed to predict what’ll be said, but how it’s said is still funny (“I thought that was the weather girl walking in…but that doesn’t sound like her…”) It also goes the extra mile in terms of splatter (even though some of it is rather sloppy CGI) and it throws in some inventive kills, making the most of a fairly extensive cast of extras. Its lead characters are likeable, and the relationship between the two brothers manages to be sweet and believable (and, although the artwork on my press release is only at the ‘to be confirmed’ phase at the moment, both brothers should definitely be on the cover, in my humble opinion, rather than giving centre-stage to ass-kicking cop Gigi Ravelli, as lovely as she is.)

But, I find myself going back to that film again, because how much you’ll get out of this movie depends very much on how your tolerance for the modern zomcom is bearing up these days. Personally I thought Kill Zombie! was decent. It was lively rather than lazy, moved along at a good pace, and didn’t just go through the motions. It won’t change your life, sure, but it’s still worthwhile. If you still have time for this sort of thing, of course…

Kill Zombie! will be released by Kaleidoscope Home Entertainment on 17th September.

DVD Review: The Raid

Review by Keri O’Shea

I’m not the world’s biggest martial arts movie fan generally; the genre’s just too expansive and, in a lot of cases, all the expert flailing of limbs grows monotonous through overkill after a while. However, this is certainly not always the case. I saw an Indonesian film entitled Merantau a few years ago, and was hugely impressed by its unorthodox elements, as well as by its blend of realistic fighting with moments of great beauty. The only minor issue I had with it was that a slightly saccharin note crept in towards the end; I didn’t anticipate this of The Raid, the most recent film by Merantau director Gareth Wyn Evans, and my gut feeling was correct. The Raid is an altogether darker movie in look and feel, though without having to sacrifice the high intensity of the action therein. However, in common with Merantau, this is an action flick with heart and soul; put simply, personal integrity, and issues surrounding integrity, are examined here.

The basic plot is, or at least appears, magnificent in its simplicity: we’re shown two polar opposites in Indonesian society. One’s a cop, Rama (star Iko Uwais), preparing to go to work; the other’s a gangland boss, Tama (Ray Sahetapy). When we see that Rama is about to form part of a team on a clearance operation, we understand that these two worlds are about to collide. Rama’s senior officer outlines what they’re about to face: Tama’s based in a notorious tower block, surrounded by his own henchmen and lots of other people who would happily act on their anti-cop bias; there’s also a large-scale narcotics lab to be taken care of there. Floor by floor, the cop team must do whatever is necessary to shut this place down for good.

It seems like plain sailing for the cops – at first (although necessity is an ugly, child-killing beast). But, when Tama’s paranoia pays off, he’s able to put the building into lockdown, watching the cops’ progress on his CCTV network and using his insider info to put a serious crimp on their winning streak. We also soon see that there’s more to this mission than a straightforward clean-up; but, regardless of the whys, getting out of this place alive is going to take some serious guile.

Wow. This is a very tense film, sometimes unbearably so, and right from the outset; in a very short space of time, our premise is neatly in place. We see the anxious cops, lots of them new recruits; we hear how efficiently their orders are given, and we know what’s waiting for them inside that looming tower block. Just like that, within a few minutes, we have a strong set-up for the action which we know will follow. However, the action is not relentless, and it’s far stronger for the contrasts which Evans weaves into the movie. We see this happening right from the start. As Rama prepares for his mission by exercising at home, we see him training, but then it’s broken up by some moments of great stillness. He’s training, but then we see him praying; all the sound and movement slows almost to nothing. It’s a device which is used throughout The Raid. The way in which Evans carefully punctuates extreme violence and rapid pace with moments of brooding peace (and even some slow-mo) adds exponentially to the film’s impact; had this been nothing but action, the action would have become normalised, and it would have lost a lot of its edge. As it stands, you’re always surprised by the contrasts, and you have space to appreciate the characters too.

The film also works so well because you’re not allowed to occupy a privileged position as a viewer; our empathy is kept with the cops (particularly Rama and his closest friend) because we’re usually at their level. A wide array of camera shots establish a sense of time and place whilst smart editing makes us feel vulnerable within it. The camera even follows the cops into the unknown on occasion, literally jumping into holes after them and trying to regain balance afterwards. Where we do differ from the cops is in that we know early on that the bad guys are already watching them; it’s insider knowledge which definitely adds to the anxiety here. It also allows the set-up for an absolutely staggering scene of good guys vs. bad – impeccably choreographed in its grisliness.

The bad guys aren’t just mannequins, though, meaningless beyond their contribution to the body count. Although most of them don’t have big speaking roles, they’re still people, with their own motivations; some of them look scared, some of them look confident, and some would rather not get involved. The film breaks with cliché in other respects: wounds are realistic (punctured bowel, anyone?) and people don’t simply lie down and die when they’re hit. As the cops pass through the building’s corridors a second time, you can clearly see a lot of people lying there wounded, and the cops themselves are far from infallible because they’re good, sustaining major hits throughout. Iko Uwais has matured a lot since Merantau, and he’s put through his paces here, balancing his martial arts work with acting as an individual under extreme pressure.

My only real gripe with The Raid would be in regards to some disparity of threat during the film; Tama, for instance, seems to disappear from the equation for a surprising length of time, when he could be directing everyone’s efforts from his CCTV hub. The idea of his all-seeing, all-powerful status takes a few knocks along the way as his concerted, organised retaliation lulls in places; it’s not enough to destroy his credibility as a villain, but enough to make me wonder what had happened to him. Guns as weapons are also in, then out of the equation during the fight scenes in some baffling ways. Obviously if everyone just rained bullets on everyone else this would be a short film, not a feature, and a very different animal, but at some points I wondered why the choice of weaponry had shifted. Still, some minor griping is just that: the pace, performances and gritty aesthetics more than compensate. I loved how the building itself provides such surprises – more than just a series of floors and staircases, it shifts, is permeable; its walls hide secret compartments, its fabric can be torn open, its floors give way…

Just as the cops make their way slowly up through that building, so the film reveals that it has more and more to offer. It operates effectively as an action film, with a simple premise which works. But, as the cops progress inwards, more and more about their mission – as well as about themselves, and their enemies – comes to light. The Raid is anything but mindless violence, instead using its violent framework to say more about its characters, albeit never in a sentimental, or even an expected way. I’ve honestly no idea how a Welshman came to establish himself as a director in Indonesia, but the fact that he has is something to celebrate: The Raid is a brilliant, savage piece of filmmaking.

The Raid (DVD/Blu-Ray) is released by Momentum Pictures on 24th September 2012.

DVD Review: The Pit and the Pendulum (1991)

Review by Keri O’Shea

Don’t get me wrong here; I’m a big fan of Edgar Allan Poe, but straightforward cinematic adaptations of his prose rarely yield quality results. His works are often not much more than fragments – short insights into extraordinary circumstances giving way, naturally, to mental torment, rather than what we’d usually consider as conventional stories with detailed plots and characterisation. Great on the page, sure, but more difficult to translate as-is to the screen, which is why I think the Corman Poe adaptations have endured; in developing so extensively on the tales themselves, they’re linked to Poe’s work but not limited to it. And, I’d be very surprised if Corman’s Poe cycle wasn’t in director Stuart Gordon’s mind when he came to work on The Pit and the Pendulum. Here, too, Poe’s original story is extensively developed, retaining its setting in the Spain of the Inquisition, but broadening in scope to include a substantial story arc with a cast to go with it.

Toledo, 1492: we’re quickly introduced to the idea that any religious authority which would disturb a tomb to declare its inhabitant a heretic (flaying the corpse for good measure) probably isn’t much endowed with sanity or compassion. It’s a state of affairs which will soon come to haunt the recently-married Maria (the little-known Rona De Ricci) and Antonio (Jonathan Fuller): they’re trying to sell bread, when they get swept along by a crowd heading to the nearby auto-da-fé – bringing them to the attention of the merciless Torquemada (Lance Henriksen). Maria’s beauty and innocence have an immediate effect on Torquemada, and he’s quick to declare her a ‘witch’, getting her taken into custody and thereafter treated with the sort of hospitality you might expect from a set of sadists and zealots (including Gordon regular Jeffrey Combs, deadpan as ever in his role as a bureaucrat in a torture chamber).

Antonio, presumed killed in the fray when Maria was seized, regains consciousness, and attempts to rescue his wife by breaking into the castle where she’s being imprisoned. His subsequent actions, as well as those of others around him, bring the ruthless efficiency of the Inquisition under immense pressure, in particular putting the (proverbial) thumbscrews on Torquemada himself, a man in whom personal weaknesses are already starting to emerge. The result is a movie which starts relatively slowly, but escalates to a high Gothic crescendo which is a lot of fun to watch. Whilst the film begins with a premise which is very familiar (everyday men and women taking on corrupt and powerful organisations), Gordon and his team play it through via an engaging period drama here. Evident care has gone into getting the costumes, locations, and visuals right (no doubt through turning a careful eye on the portraiture, as well as the allegorical paintings, of the day), but this believability is balanced against a substantial Stuart Gordon pay-off – OTT, but OTT whilst still tying up all the plot threads. There’s always method in Stuart Gordon’s madness.

Extending ‘The Pit and the Pendulum’ in this way (a credit to writer Dennis Paoli, who has also done some star turns adapting Lovecraft for the screen) allows not only for a decently-sized cast but for characters to emerge. Key amongst these is Lance Henriksen as Torquemada. Henriksen never phones in any of his performances, and he attacks the role here with relish – sometimes bordering on too much relish, as some of his wild-eyed antics don’t feel as powerful to this reviewer as his more brooding, introspective scenes. What’s certain, though, is that Henriksen brings presence and menace to the screen, especially when his character is faced with what is, in many ways, his greatest weakness personified – Maria. Maria is unfortunate enough to be genuinely pious and very beautiful, never a good combination, and through no fault of her own she is attractive to the holy man. He cannot bear his weakness, and makes others suffer as he suffers. It’s a shame to see that De Ricci hasn’t been credited with any acting roles since making this film, because she’s an excellent balance to the corruption of Torquemada. For example, when she’s examined for witch’s marks – in a scene which is, after all, a full-frontal nude scene – it’s easy to believe in her innocence and embarrassment. And, there are other recognisable faces here: as well as appearances from the prolific Mark Margolis as Mendoza, the ‘saved’ henchman to Torquemada, and the equally-prolific, sadly now deceased Frances Bay turning in a ferocious performance as the witch Esmeralda, The Pit and the Pendulum is also notable for a short (and tragicomic) Oliver Reed cameo, with Reed playing a visiting cardinal. His scenes are instrumental in something else which Paoli does here, namely, drawing on other Poe stories for inspiration. The movie isn’t just limited to the story with which it shares a title, something else which adds breadth to this screenplay.

Of course, running throughout the film is the Inquisition’s sickly preoccupation with the ‘perils of the flesh’; although the majority of the torture scenes are quite bloodless, this obsession with carnality as something corrupting and malign lends the film and script an unseemly feel. It’s always there, finally coming to the fore in the film’s conclusion, but colouring word and deed throughout. Whilst I have some problems with some of the dialogue, which at times feels clunky, what it does very well is to show the dishonesty at the heart of the Inquisition’s practices – all dressed up in proper procedure and due process it might well be, but it doesn’t change the sex and violence that’s really going on.

Although The Pit and the Pendulum has an escalating pace and even odd moments of humour which makes it feel a long way away in tone from a period Gothic like, for instance, The Monk (2011), it does have substance and much to recommend it, aesthetically, stylistically and in its imaginative development of a classic horror short story (not forgetting Richard Band’s sweeping movie soundtrack). Stuart Gordon is a versatile filmmaker, and his foray into historical horror has a great deal to offer those who enjoy films of this genre. Let’s hope this new release of a now twenty-one (!) year old film helps to bring it to a new audience.

The Pit and the Pendulum is available now from 88 Films.

Editorial: When is a film so bad…it’s good?


By Keri O’Shea

Here at Brutal as Hell, it’s not all fun and games. As much as we spend time reviewing movies, comics and books, we occasionally like to grapple with profound philosophical questions. Yes, it’s true; today, for instance, I’ve been pondering a very important distinction – one which affects us all, and one we’ve probably all talked about at one time or another. Namely; how do we differentiate between those films which are simply bad, and films which are simply so bad, they’re good? What separates one ‘bad film’ from another, and what makes one movie worthy of wanting to share it with others?

In trying to get all this straight in my head, earlier today I asked people on Twitter to name some of their favourite godawful great movies. I wanted to compare them to my own choices, first and foremost, and then to think about any common traits these movies may have. And, wow. There are lots of you out there with some serious love for films you gladly admit are terrible! The most obvious connection between them seems to be that, for all the ways that they entertain us, these bad-good movies do not work as horror movies – in the sense that, although there’s plenty of scope for feeling repelled, they tend to fail at being scary. There has to be enough on offer to allow the viewer to forgive that fact. And there are plenty of films which definitely deliver on that score.

So, without further ado, here are some characteristics which I believe help to define the bad films which we so love.

1: Forget realism

I’ve found it very difficult to identify a ‘so-bad-it’s-good’ movie which deals at all in serious, realistic threat and serious consequences – or at least, succeeds whatsoever at this. If the filmmaker goes for a hard-hitting theme and then absolutely fails on all scores, then there is an outside chance that we’ll get a reluctant classic. However, a lot of the best-loved bad films seem to stick with the completely unreal. In so doing, they’ll probably dive in headlong with the following…

2: Surpriiiiiise!

Whether it’s one scene so extravagant and batshit insane that you just can’t believe your eyes, threat or an OTT response to that threat, or a laugh-out-loud story arc, it really pays to pull something unexpected out of the bag. A film can coast a long way on that. Films which are just bad often lack the full homage to WTFery which genre film fans love so much: we all like a strong calling card, and for that very thing we can forgive a hell of a lot. That is, as long as the ‘surprise’ motif doesn’t wind up being a complete cop out; it can feel like a cheat when the punchline is ‘this never happened’. I call it the Bobby Ewing clause, and it sucks.

3: Crap monsters and bad SFX

There seems to be something quite heart-warming about the appearance on-screen of a genuinely shit monster or ludicrous bad guy – doubly so, when the actors respond to it by actually running away or showing any concern whatsoever for what it’s doing. Heh! The response from viewers is usually like this – you switch immediately to mirth, and even start rooting for the monster – such an inadequate threat deserves our affection, after all, as do the filmmakers who get in there and have a go despite their obvious lack of materials. Observe, for instance, The Deathless Devil, made in Turkey in 1973: tell me you don’t adore that robot?

4: Gleeful excess + sense of fun

That is, going completely over the top on several fronts – be it more nudity than you can shake a stick at (though it’s not as though you would), ridiculous, anatomy-defying levels of gore, a huge body count or similar – but, and this is vital, doing it out of a sense of play, rather than any sense of obligation or perish the thought, cynicism. If a filmmaker shoves a load of crude gore into his or her movie because they think it’ll be a sales point or just because they feel beholden to shock, there’s a risk it could all miss the mark. Sure, your average horror fan will happily sit through boobs and blood in most contexts, but I maintain that most fans can differentiate between organic OTT and the stuff crowbarred in. Being organic – even if it’s organically deranged – is so, so important.

A phenomenon we’ve seen a lot of lately is filmmakers self-consciously trying to make cult films. They can try, sure, but there’s a real danger of shooting oneself in the foot; better to just make the damn movie, and if it garners a cult following, it does so organically and so much the better. (Of course there’s also a chance of making a truly great cult film, but that’s not our concern here!)

5: Vision

…And, of course, I don’t mean the sort of vision you’d associate with an auteur, the type of game-changing clarity of thought which revolutionises cinema. No, I am referring to that pigheadedness which gets shit done – somehow, and that which resides squarely in the ‘what were they thinking?’ category. Some filmmakers have ambition which can blatantly never be fully realised, but they proceed regardless. Their struggle can manifest itself in many ways – as a cold disregard for continuity (which is nearly always fun), as many, small, equally endearing mistakes, or in a pleasing illogicality. To be fair, many filmmakers are up against time and budgetary restraints which are always going to put a crimp on their plans, but we can still love the end result if it delivers on the entertainment front. In fact, the entertainment to be had can often be something quite other to what was intended, but that’s by the by.

Don’t forget, anything or everything mentioned above, when refracted through time and distance, increases exponentially in the ‘so-bad-it’s-good’ scale. It’s all always so much better with retro clothes and hair to look at, especially if those with the retro clothes and hair are being pursued through the oeuvre of bad film luminaries like, say, Vincent Dawn, and any culture shock to be had from a movie being foreign also helps its appeal tremendously.

The last point is definitely important…

6: Knowing when to STFU

Overstaying its welcome is always a bad thing for any film to do, but for a so-bad-it’s-good film, it can undo all of the ‘good work’ that we’ve discussed so far. Anyone’s enthusiasm for wild, improbably story arcs, scenery-chewing performances and underwhelming SFX can begin to wane when it’s prolonged past the point of novelty, and as conventional as it is, that tends to be around the ninety minute mark for me. Much longer than that and you start to get tired, whatever the set-up is. It pays never to let a story get boring, and if that means winding everything up in a non-convincing way, do you really think we are going to mind all that much?

With all of that said, I’ll leave you now with some awful, wonderful movie choices of my own. I never intended this to be the final word on the matter; I’d love to hear some of your bad film choices, and why you love them. But without further ado, here are some beauties…

Blades (1989)

Terror on the golf course as a sentient, pissed off lawnmower runs amok. Laugh! Swoon! Revel in the 80s knitwear! Troma gets it wrong for me a lot of the time, but here they get it right. ‘Right’ being a relative term, of course. You can, if you so wish, watch the entire movie on Youtube, courtesy of Troma.

Zombie Lake (1981)

Zombie Lake has to be seen to be believed. Why, it’s just your common-or-garden tale of Nazis who emerge from a lake in France, with their faces painted green, their uniforms oddly dry as soon as they stagger to their feet, and – hang on – the underwater shots are in a swimming pool. And you can see the camera crew reflected in mirrors multiple times. There are lots of fun drinking games you can play with this – take a shot every time you see a mistake, for instance, and you’ll be under the table by twenty minutes in. A fine piece of entertainment, and no lie.

Demons 3: The Ogre (a.k.a. The Ogre) 1988

The Ogre! Linking to Troll 2 seemed to be a bit obvious, so, instead, here’s another movie referencing a mythical creature which has nothing to do with the mythical creatures in the early films it attaches itself to by way of its title. The Ogre sometimes gets linked to Demons and Demons 2, see, although it doesn’t have anything in common with them save the involvement of Lamberto Bava – who can be a bit touch and go, let’s be honest. See Graveyard Disturbance for further details. Anyway, sure, you get a bit of atmosphere in The Ogre, but a flimsy plot (nervous woman rents out a castle while she writes a horror novel and is surprised that it’s a bit creepy) and a dismally brilliant monster who marches around dressed like a dandy in pursuit of the smell of orchids, and you have a winner… of sorts.

DVD Review: Invincible Force (2011)

Review by Annie Riordan

Of all the crude, chauvinistic, immature gestures that little men with undersized penises make, my least favorite is the “suck it” gesture. The gesturer in question will flatten both palms, fingers together, as though about to execute a double karate chop. Instead, with pinkies in and thumbs out, the hands will be slammed against the upper thighs, fingers pointing down, forming a crude triangular framing of the genital area, indicating that the recipient of said gesture “suck it.” Why any man who has graduated from grade school thinks this is a cool thing to do is beyond me. It looks silly, implies ignorance and is about as attractive as watching a baboon fling its excrement. But the gesture itself perfectly sums up what Dan Schniedkraut’s “Invincible Force” is all about: insecurity, testosterone, the fragile male ego and the awesomeness of Finnish death metal.

Drew is nothing special, granted. He’s an average Joe living a nondescript life in Minneapolis, but he has a decent job (office janitor), a good friend in fellow pudge-pal Chris, and a sweet girlfriend named Amber, who doesn’t care that he’s overweight, balding and not rich. She loves him for who he is. Unfortunately, Drew himself doesn’t know who he is and doesn’t particularly love himself. The semi-recent death of his mother and a strained relationship with his father seems to have knocked him for more of a loop than even he cares to admit. Perhaps it was his inability to prevent his mom’s death that has forced him to realize that he has no control over any aspect of his life, and if there’s one thing that insecure males crave more than sex, it’s control.

Drew decides to get with The Program, a rigorous 90 day diet and workout regiment which promises to transform him from flabby manboy to ripped and shredded badass. It’s not an easy transition: it’s tiring, nauseating and just plain hard, but Drew sticks with it. Eventually, when the fat begins to recede and the muscle starts to timidly rise to the surface, Drew’s confidence grows. But with the confidence comes the plague of entitlement. He’s worked hard and is seeing results, therefore he deserves rewards. Confidence becomes arrogance.

He dumps Amber for being too fat. He makes fun of Chris for being chunky. He browses the OKCupid dating profiles like a third generation cattle farmer at a heifer judging contest. He constantly talks about erasing the negative influences from his life, not realizing that he is the biggest and most negative obstacle in his own way. Soon, Drew is speaking in a language as foreign to me as Central Siberian Ket. Muscle mass, protein intake, blahblahblah steroidal juicing stuff, etc. With his friends long gone and his job lost, Drew devotes himself entirely to The Program, descending into a dark, lonely world of madness, sports shakes and fiber bars.

My friend and fellow reviewer Chris Hallock referred – respectfully – to Invincible Force as a “damn ugly” movie. He’s right, and I couldn’t have said it better myself. It IS a damn ugly movie, but it’s also subtly brilliant and weirdly, sickeningly funny. It’s not a movie to be enjoyed by any means. Much like Schniedkraut’s previous film “Seeking Wellness” it is a film to be experienced. It’s a cinematic orbitoclast, slamming into your cerebral cortex and knocking loose the dark matter you never really wanted to acknowledge was there. We’ve all known guys like Drew, have wondered what the hell makes them tick and why they’re such oblivious douchebags. “Invincible Force” strives to answer those questions and does a damn awesome – and ugly – job of it. The truth is never pretty, and if there’s one thing that Schniedkraut does well, it’s the Truth, stripped naked and shoved right in your face. I can honestly say that I will never again take a shit without thinking of this film, and if you’re wondering what the hell that means, I implore you to find out for yourselves.

With an awesome soundtrack featuring Finnish band Maveth (oh goody, a new metal band for me to salivate over! and regardless of what Drew says, girls DO listen to metal!) and a cast of real people, Invincible Force is like walking in on your parents while they’re having BDSM sex. It’s icky and uncomfortable and totally unforgivable and – yeah – damn ugly. It needed to be made, and few people would have dared told it the way Schniedkraut does. It’s ugly for a good reason, which just makes the aftermath all the more beautiful.

DVD Review: Truth or Dare

Review by Keri O’Shea

When watching a great number of modern horror movies, there’s something I seem to find myself wondering: am I, the viewer, meant to empathise with the twentysomethings who are so often the main characters – or, are they being presented to me merely as stooges, awful human beings who are about to get punished? Should I care about them, or just rest easy in the knowledge that they’re about to be offed in a series of increasingly unpleasant ways? It’s a quandary which began to brew again as I sat through the opening scenes of Truth or Dare; here, we start by meeting a group of wealthy, spoiled students, all talk about their conquests, their cash, and their cocaine. It seemed very unlikely to me that director Robert Heath could expect us to sympathise with these people; so, it’s a testament to his direction, the writing and performances that, up against some serious issues, the film manages somewhat to break away from expectations.

We first meet friends Paul, Gemma, Chris, Eleanor and Luke at an end-of-term house party. The booze is flowing, the coke is going round, and before long everyone decides it’ll be fun to play a game of – you’ve guessed it – Truth or Dare. The game proceeds until the bottle stops at a quiet, nervous outsider called Felix, who requests a ‘truth’ question and makes the mistake of answering it honestly: he admits to having a crush on Gemma, which gets him a smack in the face from her boorish boyfriend, Chris. He leaves, hurt and embarrassed.

Moving forward in time a few months, and – oddly – Felix has invited the gang to his birthday party, at his family home out in the countryside. They – perhaps equally oddly – accept the invitation despite the fight which happened the last time they all met up, but the lure of free booze is too great, and so they all head out to the house together. There, a groundsman directs them not into the grand old ancestral seat itself but towards a cabin in the woods, accessible only by foot. Off they go, walking the mile to the cabin, where they’re greeted not by Felix but by his older brother, military man Justin, who explains that there’s been a bit of a mix-up. Felix has been held up abroad, he tells them, and sorry I didn’t cancel with you in time, but come in anyway and have some champagne. Not too long after that, Justin suggests they play Truth or Dare again; and if the first game didn’t exactly go brilliantly, then the second is about to get far worse, as a lot of the issues surrounding Felix, his family and his ‘friends’ are about to be put under severe pressure.

There are some good, strong moments during this film, primarily born out of its neat pace shifts – one of which occurred just in time to stop my attention waning around the thirty minute mark, providing a real surprise. Truth or Dare’s sudden shifts work because they disrupt the film just that right amount; they happen when the film seems to be settling into quite a flat progression, with little, seemingly, on the horizon. Then, thump! The plot veers into new territory. Whenever this happens, you get a sense of the skill and ambition which is present here. However, that skill and ambition is often fighting against other elements, namely the overuse of various horror tropes.

Pegging the plot onto these oh-so familiar markers is a serious risk. Consider that, so far, we have a group of protagonists (with various ‘types’ represented) letting their hair down at the end of term, playing a titillating game of Truth or Dare, and picking on an outsider character. Then, later, the group of friends has an encounter with a gruff yokel and arrive at a cabin in the woods. I don’t think I can be accused of spoilers (seeing as how the image is splashed all over the press release and trailer) if I say the merry band then get tied to chairs and tortured. Sound familiar? Immediately, thanks to the use of these plot devices, the film begins to echo with all of the other films which have used all the same clichés. It hugely reduces the impact of the film on an individual level, because you cannot help but think of the last twenty times you saw all this happen on screen. With the tied-to-chairs thing especially, it’s become such a well-travelled channel in recent horror films that it has has now, quite frankly, become a rut. I’ll personally admit to being very sensitive to this motif in particular, but I’d argue that any film which utilises this type of on-screen ordeal has to fight an uphill battle in order to stand out from all the others. It’s a challenge which Heath and his cast & crew make a solid attempt at in several places, pulling several surprises along the way which counter expectations, but it takes them some time to break away from limitations which are ultimately self-imposed.

Truth or Dare felt like it knew where it wanted to go, but was maybe less confident about starting out, and for this reason, I’d say it’s more of a grower – straining against credibility in several places, sure, but engaging and enjoyable in places with twists along the way and some skilful uses of tension. Special mention must go to the stone-cold Afghanistan vet Justin, played by The Borgias actor David Oakes – his performance throughout definitely helps to sustain interest. Oh, and by the end I didn’t find myself loathing the twentysomethings, which must count for something…

Sharing in many of the flaws of modern horror cinema simply by repeating them, Truth or Dare nonetheless shows promise, and some real flair for dramatic intensity. It’s just a real shame that you have to get through the blue-filtered, ordeal horror deja-vu in order to appreciate all of that.

In the UK, Truth or Dare arrives on Blu-ray, DVD and VOD on the 27th August 2012 via Cine-Britannia/Showbox Home Entertainment.
In the US, The retitled Truth or Die arrives on VOD on September 1st and DVD on October 9th, via Bloody Disgusting Selects.

Movie Review: [REC]³ Génesis

Review by Nia Edwards-Behi

I have a feeling you might all misunderstand me when I compare REC3 to The Texas Chainsaw Massacre 2. You’re all going to think I hated it. Well, no. I love The Texas Chainsaw Massacre 2 almost as much as the original, and when I say REC3 is the Chainsaw 2 of this franchise, I mean it as an absolute compliment. Tonally completely – intentionally – different to its predecessors, REC3 doesn’t seek to replicate what made the first two instalments of this franchise successful, but rather takes it in a different direction, while maintaining and extending the franchise’s over-arching narrative.

Clara and Koldo are getting married. Their families are gathered and happy for the couple, many of them filming the event. Following the church service, revellers celebrate into the night…until something goes horribly wrong. Suddenly, guests start attacking each other, ripping out throats and tearing at human flesh. During the ensuing chaos, the newlyweds are separated. However, this is a passionate couple, and each is convinced of the other’s endurance. As their friends are dying around them, Clara and Koldo seek each other out in the chaos, desperately seeking an escape from their wedding from hell.

What is immediately most notable about REC3, compared to its predecessors, is that it completely drops the conceit of found footage. Well, not completely, perhaps, as a frankly brilliant pre-title sequence consists entirely of footage shot by wedding guests and the official wedding photographer…then, something happens, just before the film’s title appears on screen, that is so pointed and so brilliant that I solo-applauded my own TV screen. It’s the kind of scene that would get cheers from a crowd of horror fans, as sure we’re all bored of found footage by now. While lesser filmmakers keep trying to replicate the successful scares of films like REC, those behind the franchise are clever enough to bring something different to the table. As such, REC3 is traditionally cinematic in its style. With this change in style comes a suitable change of tone, further removing the film from its predecessors and likewise ensuring the franchise does not stagnate, as so many horror franchises do.

There’s nothing particularly outstanding about Plaza’s direction in this film, except to say that it is fast-paced and vital, gleefully following the carnage as it unfolds. Plaza, I’d say, lets his actors do much of the work, and rightfully so, because he’s assembled a great cast. There’s a great deal of black humour and the cast works wonderfully together, with chemistry between even minor characters helping the well-timed humour. The film’s strongest asset in this respect is easily the film’s lead, Leticia Dolera, who is utterly superb as Clara. The marketing for the film has exploited the attractive image of a bloodied Clara, her wedding dress ripped, wielding a chainsaw, and unsurprisingly so. It comes from one of the film’s finest sequences, and it encapsulates the spirit of the film nicely: this isn’t serious, this isn’t even all that frightening, but it is a damn lot of fun. Dolera as Clara is charming and powerful – for every sequence of gore there’s an equally excessive sweetness in her insistent search for Koldo. The sentimentality is over-played, purposefully, but the deftness of Dolera’s performance, along with that of Diego Martin as Koldo, means this sentimentality is never overbearing or annoying.

Anyway, the film’s fantastic climax makes it all worthwhile. Where REC and REC2 were, frankly, terrifying, REC3 is very much a film focused on fun, adventure and buckets of gore. There are some impressively gross moments (hand-held kitchen blender to the face, anyone?) and the film gleefully embraces the cartoonish appeal of such scenes without becoming silly or parodic. REC3 feels like it should have been made in the 80s on a much smaller budget, at times coming across like a Spanish Evil Dead 2 in its tone.

If REC3 is so different to its predecessors, how does it fit in to the franchise, then? Well, it fits brilliantly. The events of this film take place at more or less the same time as the events of the previous two (given as REC2 takes place immediately after the end of REC). As is pointed out in the making-of featurette, there are moments in REC3 when the events taking place in the apartment building that houses the Medeiros girl appear on television screens in the background of the wedding reception. Admittedly, I didn’t notice these without them being pointed out, but regardless, they don’t need to be there to provide a sense of cohesion. The source of the outbreak at the wedding is clear, the way the initial survivors attempt to escape is in keeping with what we’ve seen previously, and likewise what they face when they ‘escape’ is much the same. Once more, the change in tone suits the different setting, and does well to keep the franchise interesting.

I can’t help but wish that Jaume Balaguero hadn’t spent time making Sleep Tight (great though it is), and just went ahead and made REC4: Apocalypse already. The film will have a great deal to live up to, but if it can replicate the successful continuation of the franchise as Plaza has done with REC3, then Balaguero’s conclusion could be something special indeed. Given the final instalment’s title, there’s a hint there, perhaps, as to where the story’s going, and I welcome it; a grander scale befitting the development from claustrophobic found footage, to full-blown apocalypse. For the time being, at least, there are now three fantastic and inventive horror films to be watched and re-watched in anticipation of this conclusion.

[REC]³ Génesis arrives in cinemas on August 31st (UK) and September 7th (US) and is available On Demand now.

Retro Review: Invasion of the Bee Girls (1973)

Review by Keri O’Shea

If you’ve ever heard the expression ‘May you live in interesting times’ then you’ll probably see how this isn’t necessarily a good thing, and the folk around to remember the world back in 1973 would probably be able to tell you a lot more about that. See, the early Seventies were ‘interesting times’ alright. After the Summer of Love came the hangover, and the hangover was a bitch. The world had changed. Emancipated women were great in some ways, but perhaps a teeny bit threatening in others. And, we see that concern played up to its zenith in the schlocktastic Invasion of the Bee Girls, because you can often spot a germ of truth in even the wackiest mirrors. Invasion of the Bee Girls is wacky, but it’s not dumb.

When a horny old research scientist is found dead in a motel room of what is tactfully referred to as “extreme exhaustion”, it doesn’t take the guys at the morgue too long to work out that he died of a massive heart attack, which they reckon was brought on by strenuous playing away. If this was a regular Joe, that might be the end of the story, but the Brandt research lab where he worked had links to governmental business, so Special Agent Neil Agar (William Smith, giving David Warbeck a run for his money) is sent to Peckham, California to investigate.

Agar starts by interviewing the departmental librarian and assistant of the deceased, Julie Zorn (Victoria Vetri, probably best known for leaping to her death from the Bramford building in Rosemary’s Baby). Ms. Zorn might be wearing spectacles and she might have her hair pinned up, but as we all know, that makes her a mere few seconds away from Sexual Abandon and she quickly confesses as much to Agar. Maybe it’s this, or the fact that she’s a useful ally in finding out what has been going on at Brandt, or probably both, but anyway, they team up to try to find out what has been going on.

Meanwhile, more and more dead men start to stack up – all checking out in the same way – and it’s up to Agar and the town sheriff to try and prevent any more deaths. They propose a curfew and complete sexual abstinence in Peckham until they solve the case; this is an idea which goes down like a cup of cold sick amongst the (male) residents at the town meeting, despite the risks. Add to this the fact that a lot of the other horny old research scientists Agar interviews declare that they probably wouldn’t mind ‘coming and going at the same time’ and you can see how Agar and Zorn have their work cut out…

But what of the cuckolded wives, left behind by their husband’s motel-room deaths? Someone, somewhere, is contacting them to invite them to the Brandt laboratory to find out what happened to their husbands…and, once they have taken up this invite, something about them changes…hell, they emerge as horny as their dearly departed, and no men, it seems, are safe…

Oh, wow. Sure, Invasion of the Bee Girls has enough soft-core T&A to work perfectly well as a piece of titillation, which is fine, but it gets a lot of other things very right too, so it’s easy to see it as a bit more than that. For starters, it moves along at a good pace – building the plot quickly and letting the audience in on just that much more than Agar & Zorn are aware of, without providing a big plot reveal of what the mysterious lab invite means until around an hour minutes in (and, blimey, Tomorrow’s World was never like this). It’s also very funny, albeit in a rather skeevy way; a scene where a girl thinks she’s getting prematurely felt up by her boyfriend until she realises she’s sat on a dead man’s hand made me laugh out loud, and the outraged response to the sex ban likewise.

Alongside all of this, propped up by a decent working script and earnest performances, you can read a bit more into Invasion of the Bee Girls…if you’re so inclined, that is. If you’re not, keep watching, more breasts shall be along presently, For me, I couldn’t help noticing the anxiety surrounding sex throughout the film. It felt like it was poised between two schools of thought; there are the old boys, hur-hurring amongst themselves about which women are ‘frigid’ and which aren’t, confidently cheating on their wives, even some who are prepared to take what they want by force (oh, and did I mention some of the scenes here are actually pretty nasty?) By the same token, and for all their bluster about it being ‘the way they want to go’, some of them get their wish, and they’re left pathetic, naked, dead and blue for their trouble. It’s not sold to us as a noble exit, and I’d say we’re encouraged to empathise with the voracious women, rather than the men they seduce. As for the women, those women who break out of the passive, no-libido-of-ones-own pattern are obviously very dangerous indeed. More than that, women! With careers! And knowledge! And LIBIDOS! Will bring down society! Hey, I wonder if this movie was a formative influence on Mitt Romney?

Invasion of the Bee Girls is massively entertaining; it has enough of that retro schlock appeal to make it engaging in-a-time-capsule-sort-of-way, but it’s possible to see a little more at its heart too. The performance of the lovely Anitra Ford as Dr. Susan Harris is an added bonus here – oh, and it plays out to Thus Spake Zarathustra. Are you ordering it yet?

DVD Review: Monster Brawl

Review by Keri O’Shea

Do you remember when WWF had (almost) nothing to do with endangered wildlife and everything to do with pro-wrestling? (Let’s try to put Jake Roberts and Koko B. Ware out of our minds for now, if you please.) Anyway, if you do remember, and better still, if all of this means something to you, then you are likely to feel some affection for Monster Brawl, because evidently the world of wrestling really means something to the film’s director, Jesse T. Cook. Might I add, the affection you feel is likely to exponentially increase according to how much alcohol is in your system; there’s a one-drink tipping point between thinking ‘monster wrestling is silly’ and ‘let’s have a little bet! By the way, my good man, is there any of that gut-stripping cider left?’ Because that’s what we have here, folks: Monster Brawl is a sprawling episode of WWF, pitching creature against creature. I got into the spirit of things, and made myself a shiny British pound into the bargain. However, if you have no passion for the wrestling format then you may find yourself wondering where the plot, characterisation, and similar common features of feature films happened to go. They ain’t here.

For those of you completely unfamiliar with the world of American wrestling, allow me to describe it to you. The match takes place, usually between two wrestlers, under the careful eye of a referee who makes sure that no illegal holds are being performed, and confirms the eventual victory, which is achieved by pinning the opponent flat to the ground for the count of three. Being the referee is a dangerous job, and any proximity to fold-up metal chairs is likely to end badly. Commentating on all of this we usually have two or more announcers, and they’ll also link in to little segues where the wrestlers and their managers talk themselves up. Monster Brawl takes this very-familiar premise, and replaces the common-or-garden seven foot hulks with…

To be honest, with a bit of a strange posse of famous monsters. Some of them aren’t all that famous; some of the big players you’d expect don’t show up. Seeing as how this is a love letter from an 80s monster kid who also lived for Wrestlemania, I’d have thought Dracula would have made an appearance. Instead he sent his representative, it seems – a female vamp, who I’m sure is a lovely girl, but didn’t seem to have a classic monster forbear per se. Frankenstein’s creature is in there (and yes, I’m still calling him that, even though the movie pokes fun at people for continually harping on the distinction) and we even get a bit of the original novel’s text thrown in, but who the hell is Witch Bitch? Maybe Cook was having fun with the idea of the underdog; those poor wrestlers who would be sent up against better-known, better-paid behemoths to be thrown around like rag dolls. Still, I was expecting more of the whole hog. If you’re only going to make one monster wrestling movie, it would make sense to invite the full monster crew. But, hey, what we get is still entertaining.

Although monsters of varying fame are actually doing the fighting, the WWF/WCW/MMA vibe is carried on with the appearance of some very well-known faces. Herb Dean is the referee! Kevin Nash plays a manager! Is that Robert Maillet? And Jimmy ‘Mouth of the South’ Hart is here, still in full sway! I have to say, the presence of Hart was enough to put a grin on my face before the first five minutes of the film were out. Overlay that WWF with a dash of WTF, because you can add to all of this the presence of Lance Henriksen providing some voiceover work (and channelling the spirit of the Mortal Kombat games) and cult film legend Art Hindle. So, for film fans and wrestling fans, there’s a sizeable amount of talent-spotting on offer here. It all takes place in a spoooooky graveyard, too, with some warning that they have stirred up some ancient evil by hosting the fight there. As for the rest, you simply get to watch the fights, listen to the commentators, wait for the ancient evil to arise, and revel in all the slapstick.

So – is this a movie in the usual sense of the word? Nope, this is Famous(ish) Monsters’ Celebrity Deathmatch, but if you can check your brain at the door and allow yourself to be a kid again, then there is a lot of fun to be had here. I certainly had fun with it. Monster Brawl is a self-aware project too, with some genuinely funny moments and a lot of love for the various fandoms at its heart. If you take it seriously, you’re missing the point.

As well as the 89-minute feature (note: when films don’t overstay their welcome, this scores them a a big bonus point) you get a documentary on the making of the movie, some Jimmy Hart outtakes (I love the guy, but I would be slipping him bromide), and the official trailer. But hey, you can take a look at that below…

Monster Brawl is out on Region 2 DVD and available to download on 20th August, from Momentum.

This Comic Looks Great Naked: Hack/Slash by Tim Seeley

Review by Comix

How many horror movies have you watched? Is the answer a lot? I bet the answer is a lot. Now how many times have you watched the useless female lead stumble her way from one dead body to another while screaming at the top of her barely legal lungs? I bet a lot more. Well Hack/Slash finally gives our sweet, lovable lead character a well deserved makeover, by arming the young lass with a bat and, get ready for it, a brain. Oh, and a huge-ass, deformed body guard named Vlad. Similar to “Cabin in the Woods” type debauchery, the comic follows the wacky misadventures of the dubious pair as they fight their way through monsters, killers, and creatures of all types.

The stories are centered around our girl Cassie Hack, a tough but super-hot and barely dressed young go-getter who travels the country fighting what the comic calls “Slashers.” Slashers are your basic bad guys; you know, malevolent ghosts, serial killers, parasitic, flesh eating twins. The usual. If the Slasher is a living being, no problem, stab the prick and wash your hands. But if they’re dead, undead, or “other”, she battles them through a mix of ingenuity and severe body damage. Basically, if it works in B-movies, it works in the comic. Cassie fearlessly hacks and slashes (see what I did there?) her way through each issue while fighting her own inner demons, namely, the murderous legacy of her mother, a woman who killed and cooked several teenagers at a high school. As Cassie travels, she begins picking up a number of strange characters who lead to even stranger cases which lead to the strangest secret club called the Black Lamp Society, which might or might not have something to do with all this….strangeness. Needless to say, it’s a pretty great read.

Not one to ever take itself too seriously, Hack/Slash spends most of its time riffing on the horror genre and giving fan service (by fan service, I mean tits and panty shots.) The comic is a great back hand to an industry stagnant in its portrayal of women in horror, even if the lead character is dressed in the sluttiest clothes this side of the stripper pole. There’s a lot of fun name dropping and geekery to be had as well, such as Cassie teaming up with Chucky, or spending several issues running around a comic convention trying to stop a serial killer dead set on murdering real-life comic book creators. Basically, Hack/Slash becomes a running horror joke that eventually pans out to an actual story, so if you’re hungry for both laughs and frights, this is the way to go.

Created and originally written by Tim Seeley, the comic is currently printed through Image Comics. The first several story arcs were actually published by Devils Due Publishing, but due to some legal issues, Seeley pulled the comics from them and began writing it for Image Comics, which is pretty awesome. Image Comics is best known for the iconic Spawn and its willingness to bring in indie-made comics to the big stage, so it was a really good move for the Hack/Slash crew. Though Seeley owns the comic, the credit for its continued publishing really goes to several authors and illustrators who have worked under Seeley’s consultations. Thanks to him and his people, Hack/Slash has literally blown up on the comic scene. The series has been adapted into a stage play, there have been talks of a movie, and Cassie Hack herself is an honorary Suicide Girl. You heard right, she’s naked on the internet! To the computer!

I know you want to pick up this sweet series and Image Comics has made it incredibly easy to do so. There are ten actual graphic novels that were released, collecting all the horror and mindless savagery, but if you don’t want to spend your precious money on ten separate collections, there are also four omnibuses collecting all the comics. The graphic novels and omnibuses have various pencil tests and cover galleries, so you can get into the nitty-gritty details that go into making big-breasted she-heroes. A word of warning of though! Apparently, there has been several reports of poor binding with the omnibuses, so purchase with caution. The books are regularly available at your local comic book stores or anywhere that sells fine printed media, so go get yours! Trust me, you’ll never find a better set of…ahem, comics anywhere else…

DVD Review: Pasolini’s Hawks and Sparrows (1966) and Pigsty (1969)

Review by Keri O’Shea

I think it’s fair to say that, if you’re a regular visitor to Brutal as Hell, then you probably mainly know director Pier Paolo Pasolini for his last film, Salò, or The 120 Days of Sodom. Despite having almost nothing to do with the horror genre (because, come on, it really doesn’t) Salò continues to enjoy a solid reputation amongst genre film fans, its reputation as the go-to movie for on-screen excess still intact come what may. However, Salò really isn’t all that representative of Pasolini’s earlier work. The aggression and shock tactics he was ready to use in 1975 have some precedents, but generally, films like Hawks and Sparrows and Pigsty are a long way away from his most notorious project…

Hawks and Sparrows (Uccellacci e uccellini) is a picaresque; a father and son (played by comic hero Totò and Ninetto Davoli respectively) are wandering on the outskirts of Rome, contemplating life, death, and similar weighty topics when…they encounter a crow. Nothing so unusual about that, except this is a talking crow. A left-wing intellectual talking crow. Together with the bird, they continue their debates on religion as they go, with Mr. Raven offering an anecdote from the 13th century which he thinks will be of interest. The telling of the story transports father and son into said century. Now they are two monks, who have been bidden by their abbot to go forth and preach the word of God to both hawks (‘the proud’) and sparrows (‘the meek’). They take this edict very literally, and try to commune with nature to fulfil it. Meanwhile, life in their century goes on – it’s a world of slums, loan sharks, and an Italy struggling to claw itself into the modern day.

This isn’t a great movie, truth be told. It’s very low on action and plot whilst its languid, dreamlike pace wasn’t for me; there was also the issue of the film’s comedy elements. Pasolini himself said that some audiences laughed a great deal and some didn’t; I’m in the ‘didn’t’ camp, and this was underlined by the amount of uproarious mirth on screen which I never shared in. There were some lunatic touches which offered moments of physical comedy (show me the person who doesn’t laugh at an old woman being beaten over the head with a sheaf of wheat by a monk) but by and large, this film didn’t land with me. Too abstruse, too self-conscious. Where it is interesting, however, is in the glimpses of a modernising, but poor Italy, having a debate with itself (through the characters) about class politics and religion. Pasolini has a superb eye for framing shots and the contrast between wide open spaces and the tumbledown tenements of the urbanising areas looks wonderful.

Although very different from Hawks and Sparrows, Pigsty (Porcile) also runs two tales in different time periods, but the atmosphere here is much darker and more ominous. The voice-over which talks of cannibalism and generational angst soon gives way to a desolate landscape inhabited by (almost) mute savages, ever hungry (even for human flesh) and watchful. This soundless world is conflated with scenes from 60s Germany, and a privileged young couple called Julian and Ida. Ida tries continually to provoke Julian with her verbal sparring but it seems he is uninterested in her; eventually he admits he is in love, but not with her. Soon after this revelation he falls into a cataleptic state (hey, we’ve all had conversations like that). Ida and his family try to understand why this has happened – and the revelation, when it does come, might make them wish they hadn’t.

Heavy on the allegory, Pigsty has much to say about modern society as a wasteland, and of even the most bourgeois of folk as being little more than beasts, but these political messages in the film make for a very difficult film to watch. The huge contrasts between the silence of the savages’ world and the interminable dialogue of the bourgeois is grating; in communicating ‘the message’ of Pigsty, Pasolini makes his characters repetitive, petty and unnatural. He himself calls the film ‘experimental’; personally, my tolerance for experimental cinema is rather low. Again, there are some flashes of action, even brutality in Pigsty, but the general torpor of the movie is its main feature. Whilst I’m not a massive fan of Salò, I’ll say this for it: it’s never boring.

Where I absolutely can’t fault these films, though, is in how they have been presented by Masters of Cinema. The transfer of each film (Hawks and Sparrows being in black and white, Pigsty in colour) is impeccably done, with rich blacks, bright whites without any ugly glare, and crisp colours. Likewise, the sound quality is excellent and the dialogue is very clear. Each release is also accompanied by a lavish booklet: these are well-researched and interesting, containing essays, interviews, viewing notes and liner art.

So, if you’re a Pasolini completist, interested in the history of film, or if you simply want to see what else this director worked on before his best-known project, then these releases might have something to offer. Otherwise, these movies are, to be blunt, a challenge, and won’t be all that accessible to most film fans – or at least, they certainly weren’t to this one…

Hawks and Sparrows and Pigsty are released on DVD as part of the Masters of Cinema series on 23rd July 2012.