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By Ben Bussey

In a curious kind of way, Hollywood Chainsaw Hookers is a film that has no need to exist. Now, don’t take that the wrong way; it’s an enormously entertaining bargain basement B-movie that still holds up 27 years on. What I mean to say is, the film itself is largely peripheral to its legacy. Pretty much everything that Hollywood Chainsaw Hookers has to give is right there in the title, and the original poster art – which, happily, has remained the cover for this new Blu-ray edition from 88 Films. Director Fred Olen Ray remarks in the extras that the cult status the film enjoys today is rooted almost entirely in the promotional photos he took of Michelle Bauer prior to commencing production, featuring the actress clad in her best lingerie clutching the biggest chainsaw they could find – and by accident or design, they wound up with, in the director’s own words, “one of the most iconic B-movie images of all time.” Perhaps it’s a little boastful of him to say that – but that doesn’t mean he isn’t 100% correct.

It’s such a simple yet unforgettable image, and it encapsulates more or less everything that appeals about this brand of cinema: it’s sexy, it’s scary, it’s absurd, it’s ripe for all manner of academic analysis – though surprisingly it doesn’t get a mention in Carol Clover’s seminal (teehee) Men, Women and Chainsaws. Michelle Bauer herself muses that to this day she doesn’t entirely understand how she wound up so closely associated with Hollywood Chainsaw Hookers, even more so than Linnea Quigley who is arguably the bigger cult star overall and has the bigger role in the movie. In a way it’s reminiscent of how Doug Bradley’s Lead Cenobite in Hellraiser came to be rechristened Pinhead and promoted to star of the show, despite ostensibly playing third fiddle to Frank and Julia; some bright spark recognised the iconic potential, slapped them on the poster anyway, and Bob (or Frank)’s your uncle. So yes, Michelle Bauer is the Pinhead of Hollywood Chainsaw Hookers; a bit nicer to look at, perhaps, but any close encounter would be sure to end in a similarly messy fashion (by which I don’t mean…)

As if Hollywood Chainsaw Hookers needed any more help being iconic, it has that other notable string to its bow: it was hated by the British censors. Arriving in the wake of the Video Recordings Act when the tide of video nasty paranoia had by no means subsided on UK shores just yet – or that particular island inhabited by the BBFC and the tabloid press, at least – anything that combined sex and violence was immediately treated with contempt and suspicion. The prominence of power tools was also a major red flag; The Texas Chain Saw Massacre, despite not having been blacklisted by the VRA, remained banned on the say-so of notoriously uptight BBFC boss James Ferman, and anything that seemed to evoke Tobe Hooper’s masterpiece was liable to get banned on sight. Given the title, the poster art, and the presence of (yet more iconography points) the original Leatherface himself Gunnar Hansen in a then-rare starring role, Hollywood Chainsaw Hookers seemed the perfect storm of everything the BBFC were afraid of. As such, the film was initially only passed with an 18 certificate after 1 minute 6 seconds of cuts (detailed in full at Melon Farmers), and – even more absurdly – the removal of the word ‘chainsaw’ from the title, despite the fact that this just makes the film sound like a porno. Still, UK distributor Colourbox were able to keep the original cover art, and got around the removal of the word ‘chainsaw’ by simply inserting a crude sketch of said implement directly over the word (see this VHS art and a bunch more promo images at the Horrorpedia review).

See what I mean about the film itself being peripheral? We’re over 600 words in and I haven’t even started actually reviewing Hollywood Chainsaw Hookers yet. So, does the actual movie warrant consideration as well, or should we just stroke our chins (yes, chins) at the poster and leave it at that?

Well – for the uninitiated, it’s fair to say Hollywood Chainsaw Hookers isn’t necessarily quite the film you’d expect it to be. Despite its inclusion in 88 Films’s Slasher Classics Collections (and writer-fans Calum Waddell and Justin Kerswell’s reasonable arguments for the film belonging to the genre on their commentary track), this is by no means another Texas Chainsaw Massacre sequel or Pieces. In-keeping with most Fred Olen Ray/David DeCoteau/Linnea Quigley/Michelle Bauer movies (before anyone says it, no, Brinke Stevens isn’t in this one), Hollywood Chainsaw Hookers may draw heavily on horror iconography but is first and foremost a cartoonish comedy, heavily lampooning genre conventions whilst spicing the whole thing up with an overabundance of female nudity. What makes this particular instance so curious is that the conventions Hollywood Chainsaw Hookers is most interested in sending up are not those of the horror genre, but the vintage American film noir (we might note it was made in the same year as that other Hollywood-based noir pastiche, Who Framed Roger Rabbit; there must have been something in the psychosphere). The movie follows Jay Richardson’s oh-so-cleverly named Private Detective Jack Chandler as he tracks down a missing girl (Quigley) who is somehow caught up in a bizarre spate of murders which – as you might have ascertained – involve women of a certain profession, making use of a certain handheld device primarily designed for tree felling.

Revisiting the movies made in the 80s by the likes of Ray, DeCoteau, Jim Wynorski and Troma really brings into light that the kind of self-referential humour which came to overwhelm horror by the late 90s had actually been brewing for quite some time before Scream came along, and as stupid as a lot of these films may seem at a glance there’s sometimes a great deal more genuine wit to be found within. No, we’re not about to confuse Hollywood Chainsaw Hookers with the works of Jonathan Swift, but I daresay it’s a somewhat more erudite brand of B-movie humour than we tend to find nowadays, even if the bulk of the gags that stayed with me are the cheap innuendos, many of which relate to Chandler being a private detective: take the police captain grumbling, “just what I need, a Dick in my face.” (The fact that this is the first joke that comes to mind probably says more about me than it does about the film, but let’s not dwell too heavily on that.) Once the diabolical schemes of Gunnar Hansen’s evil mastermind and his ancient Egyptain chainsaw-worshipping cult comes to light, causing Chandler to ponder whether America’s religious freedom is getting out of hand – I can’t deny I barked out loud with laughter more than once.

But never mind all that, I hear you say – what about Linnea Quigley? Well, she’s her usual, captivating, almost never fully clothed self, and given that this film came in right between Sorority Babes in the Slimeball Bowl-A-Rama and Night of the Demons, this was pretty much when she was at her hottest, and her signature scene – the Virgin Dance of the Double Chainsaws – is one of her most memorable moments, up there with the graveyard strip of Return of the Living Dead, the lipstick trick of Night of the Demons and the antler impalement of Silent Night Deadly Night. Even so, truth be told, her role here as Samantha isn’t one of her most memorable; she’s essentially playing the good girl role, which really isn’t what we expect of her, and probably explains why Michelle Bauer’s utterly deranged bad girl hooker Mercedes is such a scene-stealer. And when the inevitable happens and the two great scream queens clash buzzing blades: well, it’s not exactly on a par with the great chainsaw battles of The Texas Chainsaw Massacre 2 or Tiger on the Beat, but it’s a surefire crowd-pleaser nonetheless. In their presence, it’s small wonder Esther Elise feels a bit lifeless as the second chainsaw hooker Lisa; a whole lot of natural charisma is required to hold your own alongside Bauer and Quigley.

Naturally, this new Blu-ray release presents the fully uncut Hollywood Chainsaw Hookers with all its lingering shots of blood-spattered breasts (and title) fully intact – and while I rather doubt it’s going to leave anyone depraved and corrupted, it is going to leave one flabbergasted at how oversensitive, not to mention utterly humourless the BBFC were in the bad old days (not to suggest they’ve completely left their treat-the-masses-like-helpless-children days behind them; see their recent ban of Hate Crime). This isn’t some Evil Dead or Braindead-style gorefest; it’s a very light-hearted affair with death scenes that make no effort whatsoever to seem realistic. Ray remarks in the extras that they had no effects budget and bought all their severed body parts from a store, and it shows; you’ll see more gruesome and lifelike stuff hanging in suburban windows at Halloween than you’ll see here. Not that I imagine too many suburbanites answer the door to trick’r’treaters in Michelle Bauer fancy dress, stark bollock naked except for a shower cap and chainsaw – though I for one certainly don’t find that idea too objectionable…

For fans of cheap and cheerful 80s horror comedy, it should already be clear that this 88 Films edition of Hollywood Chainsaw Hookers is a must-buy. However, if you’ll forgive me going all infomercial, here’s the part where we say BUT WAIT – THERE’S MORE!

That’s right – this Blu-ray also contains Linnea Quigley’s Horror Workout video in full. Yet another affectionate skin-heavy spoof with heavy horror elements, this one hour feature from 1990 sends up the celebrity workout videos that were all the rage at the time, boasting a gratuitous shower scene, stock footage from her movies, a solo workout in fishnets and studded bra (you can stuff your Fabletics, Kate Hudson), group workout scenes with a mob of zombies and a gaggle of sorority girls in their undies, and such helpful motivating instructions from Linnea as “come on, stretch those muscles… not that muscle!” I’m not sure it’s quite on a par with Jillian Michaels as workouts go, but I somehow doubt that’s the point. Die-hard Quigley fans will want to see it for sure, and it only makes this purchase that bit more essential. Other extras include both vintage and newly-shot featurettes, director commentaries on both the feature and the workout video, the aforementioned fan commentary from Waddell and Kerswell, and other bits and bobs.

Be warned the trailer below is heavy on spoilers and thoroughly NSFW, giving away most of the money shots that didn’t make it past the BBFC the first time around. (Pretty naff sound and picture quality too, sadly. But don’t worry, it looks and sounds great on the Blu-ray.)

Hollywood Chainsaw Hookers is out on Blu-ray on 23rd March, from 88 Films.

By Svetlana Fedotov

As I’m sure most of you realize, the comics I review are but a small percentage of the comics I actually read. I read a LOT of comics, all kinds too! Superhero, horror, fantasy, love manga , indie comics about sad dudes in France, comics FROM France, what have you. So, my dear readers, what has this fiendishly feverish mind, starved for entertainment from the four panel world, been reading lately? A lot of Batman. More specifically Batman ’66 and Batman Zero Year.

While both may share the Caped Crusader, the adventures, attitude, and even the Dark Knight himself differ drastically between the two versions. One brooding and fresh faced, the other light hearted and experienced, both tales prove that we just can’t get enough the mysterious billionaire.

Batman ’66: Vol 2

So, I’m a bit behind on my Batman ‘66’s seeing as how a third volume comes out next month, but the good thing about the series is that it’s mostly one-shot stories. I’m not missing much in terms of catching up. Modeled after the classic sixties Batman show, this feel-good, wacky comic is currently on issue #55 which, if you remember, is the second part of the Dynamic Duo’s run in with Lord Death Man. Penned by Jeff Parker and illustrated by various artists, Batman ’66 shows a less serious side of Batman while harnessing the over-the-top energy of Adam’s West acting and volume two brings out all the stops! Russian villainess’s, look-a-like Alfred’s, corny riddles, and Joker’s big, fat, hairy mustache! Non-stop action and non-stop giggles await you.

I am absolutely loving Batman ’66 and with the single issue being online only, it’s way cheaper than your standard printed comic. It perfectly captures the goofiness of the original show while still having surprisingly original content. I’m not going to lie, I haven’t seen much of the show, but I feel like after reading this, I think I got the gist of it. Parker managed to keep everything intact, from the shark repellent to the silly outfits to Robin’s holy shout-outs. The art varies from person to person, but it’s solid across board. From Ted Naife’s indie splash to David Williams frozen freaky wonderland that is Mr. Freeze, each artist put in his own touch to the growing pathos of early Batman. If you’re sick of superheroes being so damned serious, this is the comic for you. If not, well, read on.

Batman Vol. 5: Zero Year-Dark City

In case you haven’t been following the Scott Snyder Batman series, it’s gotten so deep that the series now needs three subheadings to figure out where you are. Currently, the series is on the fifth volume with the Zero Year story arc re-telling the origins of Batman. Dark City is the second graphic novel of a three part story arc (parts two and three are included in this book). You with me? You should be, because it’s awesome. Sure, retellings of Batman’s origins rear up their ugly heads every few years, *cough* Gotham *cough*, the Zero Year story arc has definitely been one of the better ones, especially when the crazy shows up.

This particular story is set six years prior to the main storyline. Gotham has gone dark and a young Batman must traverse the dangers of blackened city to the Riddler, who plans on taking advantage of the electrical outage and killing everyone that moves. But it’s not only Mr. Nigma who’s looking to spread some chaos and as deformed bodies start to pile up, a new monster is unleashed on to the streets. Will the new Batman be able to save the city or will his inexperience cause the death of thousands?

The Zero Year arc has got to be one of the grittiest, darkest Batman takes I’ve seen in a while. The monster design of Batman’s newest foe is unlike anything I’ve ever seen in the Dark Knight universe. Let’s just say, lots of teeth. Snyder continues doing what he does best and that’s flip everything on its head. You really feel for the young Wayne as he learns that all the training in the world cannot prepare for a Gotham after dark. Running from crime scene to crime scene, dodging cops the whole while, we get flashes of his past with his parents and the hard sense of loss that he carries with him. Now, unlike Batman ’66, you would probably have to at least get volume 4 to catch up with the story arc, but it’s definitely worth it. Snyder once again proves why he’s the reason Batman was created.

By Quin

Damn this movie – from the setup that doesn’t matter at all to the downbeat ending that is almost good, but carries the story just a little too long. The Damned is one of those glossy looking movies with the production values of a good movie, but it never does what it’s trying desperately to do. You know, things like telling a good story and scaring its viewers.

I’ve actually been meaning to review this since December. I watched it all of those months ago, hated it then, but other movies became more important and pressed for time, so The Damned kept getting pushed back. I wanted to mention this because – have you ever left a movie not sure how you felt about it, but for whatever reason it stayed with you, and over time you started to either love it or hate it? Well, that’s sort of what I experienced with this movie. But the more time that went by, the more I hated it. It got to the point where I was dreading doing this review, because too much time had gone by and I knew I’d have to sit through it again. I hoped that my hatred had grown for things I only thought I remembered about it. I always try to be optimistic about these things and I figured if I was going to do this, it had to at least start with a good attitude.

A brief summary of the plot sounds so much better than it actually is, but as I mentioned, the setup is pointless. David and his fiancé are in Colombia to pick up his daughter and bring her home for their wedding. All of this is news to her and she doesn’t want to go. They all decide to hang out for a few days before returning to the states. All of this is explained so poorly (the movie, not my review; or perhaps my review, I am describing a turd) and all of the members of the family look about the same age. Oh, I should probably mention that there is tragedy in the family’s recent past. Dad’s wife died and he’s getting over it by marrying a much younger woman. So, I guess there’s nothing else for them to do, but go explore Colombia. Here’s where the description gets good, but the movie itself does not. They get caught in a severe storm and flash flood. The family finds shelter in an old inn. A strange old man lives there. At first he’s not very nice and tells them the inn is closed and they have to leave. But since one of them is hurt, they convince him to let them in. Immediately, we notice that there is something sinister going on. The old man seems very interested in the fact that they are a family and he makes it clear to one of the girls that her crucifix will not protect her.

Nobody in these movies ever notices the warning signs. They all get comfy in the inn. The old man tells them to stay put and not to snoop around. They ignore him and find a young girl chained up in a secret room. What starts as a rescue operation, turns into confusion and anger with everyone in the movie turning on each other and the viewer not giving a damn and probably falling asleep. As you probably guessed, the little girl is not what she seems. And now the family might never make it out of the inn.

So, after seeing this movie twice in three months, here’s my official thoughts on the film. It blew the first time I saw it and it still blows now. The plot feels like one of those good old fashioned ghost stories, but it’s better suited for a page of a book or for around a camp fire. It’s filled with characters that are hard to like. Not because they are despicable or anything, but there’s just not much to them. The best thing about the film is the direction. The Damned looks damn good. The house is a great location with lots of atmosphere. But I can get the same effect and have a much better time watching an old Barbara Steele movie. The Damned is mostly boring and predictable. It’s the kind of thing that works so much better when it doesn’t take itself too seriously. You should probably skip it, damnit!

The Damned is available on DVD and digital download from IFC Midnight. It is also streaming on Netflix in the US.

By Quin

Allow me to pull back the curtain just a little on film criticism. It’s been my experience writing film reviews for a website such as this – since we love the genre so much – most of what we review are things we seek out ourselves. For me, I would have seen these films anyway, even if I didn’t have an outlet for my opinions. Since I do, I get the added bonus of sharing my thoughts and just maybe somebody will take what I say to heart, thus making their filmgoing experience a little more efficient. I don’t mean for that to sound as self congratulatory as it probably does. After all, it is entirely possible that things could go in the other direction and a reader will ultimately feel I steered them in the wrong direction. I hope this never happens. As for the rest of what we review, it consists of DVDs and links to screeners sent to us by distributors or even the filmmakers themselves. This can be a great way to find something that would otherwise be totally off the radar. These screeners almost always come with press materials that have info about the film as well as a synopsis. What I’ve come to realize, is that in these synopses comes a thinly veiled review of the filmmaker’s own movie. This could be designed to appeal to the lazy critics that are just looking for a hook to latch onto. All you need are a few buzz words and comparisons to other films – just fill in a few more blanks and boom – your review is complete. When I got the screener for Infernal, the press materials made a point of comparing the film to The Omen and Poltergeist. This creates a sigh and an eye roll that I can not help. It’s obviously a muscle spasm created by my BS meter switching on, but I remained open minded and began watching a film that was ultimately quite satisfying.

Infernal is the second film from Bryan Coyne. He previously did a documentary about a baseball park in Los Angeles, so this is a bit different. The press materials I mentioned seem to want me to include that there are a few producers of Infernal who were also involved with producing Freddy vs. Jason, Snakes on a Plane, and Cowboys & Aliens – I’ll let you decide if that’s really a necessary selling point. This film follows the typical found footage format, consisting of stationary and portable cameras set up in various rooms to capture the goings on inside the house. Nathan and Sophia are a couple who live with their daughter Imogene. She is a quiet girl who is obsessed with constantly running a comb through her long blonde locks. When she doesn’t have her comb, she is asking her parents where it is. Frustrated with her behavior, her parents seek professional help from a psychiatrist. The psychiatrist suggests that it could be autism, but thinks that it would be a good idea if they did an “exercise” to chart the progression of Imogene’s behavior. In this “exercise” they are instructed to set up a camera to document her actions. They do this by giving her a teddy bear with a camera inside – one which she names Brandy, “Because that’s what Mommy drinks every night.” It’s subtly suggested that the reason we see the psych sessions with the parents is because the doctor is secretly taping her patients.

Imogene’s behavior continues to grow more bizarre. She wanders off regularly and ends up in odd places, and she also has the interest of every canine in the neighborhood. Eventually a priest gets involved, but I won’t say how or why. Infernal has everything you would expect out of a movie like this. Where it exceeds my expectations is in the way it goes from formulaic to intensely dark over the course of its roughly 100 minute running time. You might notice in the credits, Imogene is played by two different kids. This was a pretty clever way to get a certain effect. I also, must mention that it’s one of the most visually stunning found footage films I’ve seen. Every shot is very well framed with incredible lighting. It’s almost as if Gordon Willis had a side business where he set up security cameras and web cams for people. Watch for a scene where Sophia is drinking alone in her room. It’s silent and deep and gorgeous to look at with green light and darkness.

I suspect Infernal has a broad reach and will interest all types of horror fans. It has so much in common with Paranormal Activity. Its look, tone and story are similar. But for those of you looking for more, it has a payoff at the end as well as others along the way. There is a figure that looks like it came from the mind of Henry Fuseli or William Blake. After a slow start and a setup that includes a ton of unnecessary drunk characters; and a pre-credits supernatural effect featuring a crucifix that will probably make you laugh; and the quickest courtship, wedding and human gestation period ever – my BS meter stopped. The movie gets going and really goes after what it wants to say. Mentioning The Omen or Poltergeist may be helpful, but there is certainly enough here to describe without evoking either. Although, if I had to pick one, I’d go with The Omen – for obvious reasons.

Infernal comes to US theatres and VOD on April 10th, from Uncork’d Entertainment.

By Ben Bussey

A movie with Danny Trejo and volcanic zombies was only ever going to go one of two ways. It might have been a cross between Dante’s Peak and the Dawn of the Dead remake, with epic lava FX and full-on zombie attack sequences – or, it could have been yet another half-arsed Sharknado type movie drowning in shitty CGI, bulging with overwritten subplots no one gives a toss about which try and fail to distract from the fact that the film has neither the budget nor the creativity to make good on its concept, with Danny Trejo in fact only appearing for about five minutes just so his picture can go on all the promo art.

I’ll give you a massive hint: The Burning Dead is not the former.

Yes, I’m afraid to say The Burning Dead is yet another of those tepid puddles of piss that leave you feeling sorry for everyone involved in the production who threw away time and energy into something so utterly worthless on every level. Like with all these Syfy Channel type films, the core concept is fun, and seems to promise 80 odd minutes of cheesy goodness, but in fact we get all of 15 minutes of fun scenes whilst the running time is padded out with the usual stock characters: well-meaning sheriff who kinda has a thing for single mom of vaguely rebellious daughter with cantankerous estranged grandfather who cross paths with nerdy old volcanologist and his vaguely hip young apprentice, yadayada… Trejo, meanwhile, pops up intermittently as a Native American patriarch telling the legend of the mountain to his grandkids, in scenes which feel like they belong in a totally different film and indeed have very little bearing on what goes down other than to give us a bit more exposition.

But believe me, if there’s one thing The Burning Dead didn’t need more of, it’s overwrought dialogue. All we want to see is volcano-born zombies chowing down on this boring ensemble, but instead all we seem to get is them sitting around and talking, not making a great deal of haste considering they’re meant to be evacuating town due to the local volcano being on eruption alert. Factor in the fact that said eruption has the curious effect of raising zombies, and you’d think they’d be getting their skates on doubly quick. No such luck – nor does their inability to get move on hasten them to their deaths any quicker, more’s the pity.

About the one thing that does feel like a break from the norm with the current wave of sub-Corman SyFy creature feature shite is that they didn’t use sharks as the monsters and call this Sharkruption or something. Zombies are comparatively rare in this particular arena, primarily as they tend to result in more graphic bloodshed than the SyFy Channel can get away with – and, sure enough, The Burning Dead is indeed a fair bit gorier than the umpteen shark-based flicks of recent years, and even boasts a bit of agreeably gratuitous nudity from a ‘blogger’ taking topless selfies in front of the erupting volcano before becoming the main course. However, these moments are sporadic, and seem presented in such a way that they could quite easily be edited out for television. It’s that same old ‘unrated’ trick Hollywood keeps playing on us, putting out slightly reworked versions of PG-13s with a little more swearing and (most likely digitally painted on) blood. More often than not such efforts fail to save movies which were already worthless, and guess what: they don’t make The Burning Dead any less of a waste of time either.

The Burning Dead is out now on VOD and On Demand services in the US, and comes to DVD from April 7th, via Uncork’d Entertainment.

By Svetlana Fedotov

The concept of Hell has been around for as long as humans have needed a reason to punish each other. Ancient Egypt had a lake of fire, the Greek had Hades, and we, in the more modern times, have the Christian Hell of eternal suffering and even a Buddhist Hell called The Realm of Naraka. While many of these religions may not agree on a lot of things, they can all agree that Hell sucks major balls and anyone one of these would be awful way to spend eternity. Hellbreak, on the other hand, takes that concept and turns it up a thousand fold. You see, in there world, there are thousands of Hells and they’re ALL terrible. With each territory run by gangs and only so many human souls to devour, it’s not uncommon to find a rogue demon dragging humans down who are still alive and that’s when the Orpheus team comes in. Hellbreak takes the classic tale of a team of highly trained operatives fighting magical creatures and instead of waiting for the action to come to Earth, sends the action down to Hell.

So, the entire comic basically reads as set up for the arc, like an issue 0, instead of the beginning of a story, but I will give you breakdown anyway. Essentially, this is the issue where we get introduced to the Orpheus team and how they go about their business. As a worried family is reassured that their possessed son will (maybe, possibly not) be rescued from the confines of Hell, the highly skilled Orpheus team invades one of Hell’s many domains, this one known as Necropolis. They drop in unannounced into the middle of a masquerade party attended by the most gruesome monsters in the industry and quickly have to run against time before their rescue is devoured by demons. I’m not going to tell you if they make it, but there is a second issue coming out.

To be fair, the only thing that’s really keeping me interested in the comic is the premise. I’m digging the idea of multiple Hells with roaming gangs of demons as far as they eye can see. The designs of the demons are pretty on point as well thanks to the artist Brian Churilla, as well as the art itself. He creates a fun cartoony vibe and adds a touch of realism, reflecting Oni Press’s stance to have fun with comics. But aside from those two things, I’m not too impressed. Maybe it’s because the first issue decided to focus on a random opening story versus actually establishing an arc, but I didn’t feel like there was much to grab on to to push me into the second issue. It’s one of those things that would’ve worked well in graphic novel form, but as a stand-alone issue, it’s kind of boring.

Also the characters kind of blended in and the ones that stuck out were pretty by-the-books standards. You have the tough chick, the bald black guy, a guy with a dark secret, and so on and it feels like it’s all stuff you’ve read before. Not to mention, a tough talking supernatural team has been done a million times before and this isn’t much of a change of pace. As much as I love Cullen Bunn, like I said, I feel like the concept was all he really had in mind and the character and story development fell by the wayside. But, does that mean the second issue is not worth picking up? Personally, I’d grab it. A thousand Hells means a thousand stories and I know that Bunn has the creativity to explore all of them. I want to see where this goes.

By Matt Harries

Space; the final frontier. Or should that be inner space? Will the quest for human evolution take place beyond the confines of the earth or will we discover new limits to our potential here on the shores of our birth? This question of human kind’s evolution might just be one of the questions The Signal is asking, but I wouldn’t like to say for sure. In the end although it pays lip service to the kind of unanswered questions that define so much science fiction, this is a film which certainly likes the whiff of these big questions more than any meaningful attempt to answer them.

The story follows three young friends engaged in that favourite cinematic pursuit, the road trip. In this case the dynamic of the threesome is that they are best friends, although Nic and Haley are an ‘item’ whereas Jonah and Nic have their own thing going on – namely the pursuit of the mysterious hacker known as Nomad. They have had brushes with this shadowy figure in the past and when he appears to be tracking their movement through road traffic cameras this is too much for Nic and Jonah. Their hackers pride and curiosity piqued, they decide to trace this elusive nemesis and discover his identity for once and for all.

Their search leads them to another favourite cinematic trope; the abandoned house. As Nic and Jonah move through the dark building in wavering beams of torchlight, they hear a scream from Haley, who chose to wait in the car. One of the most arresting moments of the film soon follows, as the sound of struggle drags their frantic gaze from side to side in the night gloom. Haley’s body is flung through the air toward them like a rag doll. This startling image marks a complete change in the film’s narrative; a paradigm shift leading to a quite different semblance of reality.

Enter the dependable authoritarian cool of Larry Fishburne, as Damon, a scientist of some kind at a somewhat hokey research installation replete with lumbering be-suited scientists, stopped clocks and crummy old tech. Fishburne is in ‘Morpheus’ mode – almost maddeningly calm in the face of the now wheelchair bound Nic’s confusion. For all that Nic’s body has failed him, his mind is still sharp and searches for some way to escape, his desire fuelled by the sight of Haley lying unconscious and alone in a bed in a different part of the labyrinthine facility. Soon he discovers Jonah is in a nearby cell, and by communicating through the air vents they devise a method of returning to the surface. But which reality awaits them if they can escape?

You’ll be unsurprised to hear that the world above ground is not the same as the one which our intrepid trio travelled across at the film’s beginning. Having passed through the dull sterility of the laboratory they are indelibly changed in more than one way. Yet while Nic struggles with the physical changes forced upon him, and Haley continues to drift in and out of lucidity, there is a kind of comfort in the desert land they travel through. Comfort in the sense of the familiar quirkiness so often bequeathed to denizens of big sky territory – vaguely sinister trucker types chewing on greasy gristle, folks given over to wide-eyed religious fervour – something of a cliched sub-Lynchian vision of the desert through which Nic and Haley struggle.

The road trip; the abandoned house; the crazy desert folk. Although The Signal flirts with deep thinking it certainly doesn’t mind doing so from relatively well-worn vistas. This has the effect of making the film a parade of scenarios which play into the strengths and weaknesses of low budget cinema; relying upon the inherent dramatic frisson of a photogenic teen gazing wistfully from a car window, or a 360 degree horizon under the sky’s cerulean dome. It feels like an independent, low budget film, regardless of its narrative focus; detached cool, picturesque young stars and the achingly modern lexicon of the hacker with a moral conscience. Fishburne lends gravitas as scientist-in-chief Damon, his character alternating between dry authority and placatory impotence, as well as utimately being the fulcrum upon which the understanding of Nic wavers.

I have reservations about The Signal, namely that it seems unable to decide if it wants to wrestle with some fairly weighty existential ideas or defer to glorifying superhero-like powers. In the end it is a bit lightweight, a bit predictable in some of the ways it frames the story – yet there is something quite likeable about it all the same. Brenton Thwaites as the driven Nic is suitably intense, ably supported by his youthful co-stars Olivia Cooke and Beau Knapp. Fishburne’s heavy-eyed, measured delivery is perfectly placed in the context of the film, and veteran Lin Shaye provides a memorable cameo. This is a film which contains some good talent and a few names to watch in future works, but ultimately may prove a bit too lightweight to demand repeated viewings.

The Signal is in UK cinemas from 27th March before hitting DVD on 13th April, from Entertainment One.

By Ben Bussey

We see our fair share of low-to-no budget indie movies around these parts, yet while a large percentage of them boast at least a hint of eccentric humour, comparatively few are what we’d necessarily class as outright comedies. The Fat Foot Films production How I Dumped My Ex-Boyfriend’s Body is something of a break from the norm for us, then, for while as may be ascertained from the title the central theme is very much on the macabre side, this is first and foremost a situation and character based comedy following two best buddies who are having themselves a particularly strenuous day. If that sounds a little Kevin Smith-esque, well, I daresay that’s no accident, although one of the key differences here is that the best buds at the heart of it all are women. Hmm… is there are female equivalent of ‘bromance?’ I want to say ‘lady love,’ yet that doesn’t quite sound right. Well, actually it sounds very right to me, but… ahem, excuse me, I’m getting away from the point.

Anyway – after opening on a curiously dark note with a guy tied to a chair in a dark room facing imminent death from an unseen assailant, we then cut to Shae (Vanessa Leigh), one half of our lady love duo – okay, I won’t use that phrase again – being woken by a telephone call from her pal Maxine (Meredith L Philips), requiring urgent assistance with something. So far, so first two minutes of Clerks, except Kevin Smith didn’t dwell quite so long on Dante putting his clothes on (though this is as close as the film ever gets to sexploitation). Anyway, once Shae gets over there Maxine drops the bombshell that she accidentally killed her boyfriend in a lover’s tiff the night before by bashing him over the head with a vase. Shae seems more concerned about the vase – a gift she gave – than the dead boyfriend, but even so she’s naturally wary about Maxine’s request to help her dispose of the corpse. Still, if she just said no it’d be a bit of a shorter movie, and so the messed-up misadventure begins.

It has often been remarked that comedy can be even harder to get right than drama, and the microbudget indie horror scene is littered with evidence to support that theory, with countless bad performances and bad directors making a pig’s ear of skits which had clearly seemed hilarious at the conceptual stage. Happily, it would seem that Fat Foot Films have a considerably stronger grasp of how comedy works, and for the most part they do a really pretty good job of it. Philips and Leigh make for an engaging and charismatic lead duo with decent chemistry and comic timing, and given that the vast majority of the film centres around the two of them this is definitely key to making the film as enjoyable as it is. The problems begin with the rest of the cast; whilst all of them turn in good performances, the supporting characters get progressively larger than life. Ezra Brown as Shae’s dim-witted childlike boyfriend and Ed Gutierrez’s wannabe gangsta are largely endearing and manage not to get too over the top, but Erik Johnson’s creepy neighbour is just a little too much for my liking, approaching almost Troma-esque levels of caricature which doesn’t seem to sit right under the circumstances. Certain plot developments also throw things off balance, with wit being traded for goofiness a little too often. This tendency toward the goofy also tends to undermine the few sinister moments which might otherwise have had the potential for tension.

Still, it’s fair to say that none concerned – writer-director Dennis Nadeau in particular – came into How I Dumped My Ex-Boyfriend’s Body with political correctness foremost in mind. Again in the Kevin Smith tradition, the emphasis is first and foremost on bawdy dialogue eager to push the boundaries of taste and decency, but on top of the expected sex, stoner and toilet jokes we also have a perhaps surprising amount of racial humour, as well as a fair few disability jokes involving scene-stealing villain Josh Pineo, a wheelchair-bound dwarf. Naturally the politically sensitive will doubtless take exception to much of this, and I’ve no doubt that’s entirely the point. While much of it does feel rather unsavoury, there can be little doubt that all concerned are well aware of how potentially offensive it all is, and as such it’s perhaps missing the point to take all too much to heart. In any case, this deliberate political incorrectness makes for an interesting contrast given this is a film driven by the sort of layered female characters we so often bemoan the comparative lack of in modern film. As mentioned earlier, sexploitation is very low on the agenda, and happily there’s none of that idealised, manic pixie dreamgirl bullshit here; Maxine and Shae are every bit as stubborn, pig-headed, ignorant and foul-mouthed as any number of male leads we could name. And let’s face it, any film that acknowledges that women are every bit as disgusting as men is a good thing, right?

How I Dumped My Ex-Boyfriend’s Body is set to screen at various festivals and grassroots events in the US. Learn more at the Fat Foot Films website and Facebook page.

Review by Quin

When I was little, I remember my parents taking me to a convalescent home for the elderly, to visit a family friend who was in the final stages of Alzheimer’s Disease. I had grown up knowing this man. I remember him working in the garden and I remember that he had cats. But when I saw him that day in his hospital bed, he had no idea who I was and it filled me with a feeling that I still remember to this day. I wasn’t scared of him, but I felt very strange. Thirty years later, I haven’t known anyone else who has been afflicted with the disease, but that strange feeling stays with me.

The Taking of Deborah Logan puts a supernatural spin on the horrors of Alzheimer’s. It is indeed a found footage film, but different from what we typically see over and over again. The film is comprised of footage shot for a medical documentary made by a medical student. She has been given permission to bring a film crew into the home of Alzheimer patient Deborah Logan, by Deborah’s daughter, to shoot footage and interview them about living with the disease. What follows is predictable, but how it all happens before our eyes is fascinating and engaging.

The Taking of Deborah Logan has some truly shocking moments. But it does an amazing job of going from subtle and nice to those shocking moments. When we first meet Deborah, she is working in the garden and she seems to have all of her faculties. She smiles, she’s polite – but she makes it clear that she is not interested in being exploited. It is here we learn that the filmmaker had a relative with Alzheimer’s, so the subject hits close to home for her and she has every intention of being respectful. Almost immediately, Deborah begins to have second thoughts about the documentary and sends the film crew away. Her daughter convinces her that she should take part in the film and since they are in financial trouble, the money they receive for being in the documentary would be help them tremendously. Two weeks later, filming resumes.

Everything about the documentary feels authentic. The medical student explains the science behind Alzheimer’s (which I won’t repeat – I couldn’t if I wanted to) complete with graphics and diagrams as well as photos of real patients at various stages of the disease. The interviews with Deborah and her daughter are great as well. We learn so much about who they are as well as some of the things that Deborah is beginning to forget. The progression of her disease is seen through moments where she loses her temper and becomes violent to quietly bizarre details like when she is seen holding a snake in her garden. The tension with the film crew members escalates and becomes a driving force for more outbursts until things spiral completely out of control.

The acting in this film is great. Jill Larson, primarily known for her work on the soap opera All My Children, is so convincing as a woman with Alzheimer’s Disease. Her physical transformation is also worth noting. She had a role in the film Shutter Island where she had to look creepy, but in The Taking of Deborah Logan she goes from sympathetic to downright horrifying. When she’s not hiding in the dark, her face is one that will probably give you nightmares. Her jump scares are many, but they are well-done and necessary. Her daughter, played by another actress known for her television work – Anne Ramsay – is also wonderful. She has clearly gone very deep when creating this character, she feels like a truly fleshed-out human being with flaws and incredible pain, but also a brave face for her mom whom she loves.

The Taking of Deborah Logan is so much more than a found footage film, or even a horror film. It feeds on our fears of death and of losing our mind, while at the same time taking us down a path that is evil and sinister. Some of it is quite fun, but it’s mostly just scary. It’s the kind of scary where closing your eyes doesn’t really help. You’ll still see Deborah Logan’s face with her glowing eyes and her teeth stained with blood. Which it just so happens, that’s right where I like my horror. If you do too, you’ll want to see this one.

The Taking of Deborah Logan is available on region 1 DVD and digital download from Millennium Entertainment and it is streaming on Netflix in the US.

By Nia Edwards-Behi

Sam Cross (Charity Wakefield) is a suspended police sergeant with issues. Twenty years ago her sister died at the hands of a serial killer. Even though he was decimated by the police who found him, a body is discovered in the present day that somehow bears his DNA. Luke (Danny Horn) ran away from that crime scene, completely unaware of what’s happened and why his friend is dead in his flat. A video message on his phone leads him to Sam, and together they must unravel what’s really going on.

Scar Tissue is a film that seemingly takes elements from other films that I really quite like and brings them together to make something painfully dull. Part-Saw and part-Girl with the Dragon Tattoo, Scar Tissue is neither as imaginative as the former, as compelling as the latter nor as entertaining as either. There’s a strong sense of inconsistency in the film which results in something of a difficulty in engaging with either the plot of the characters.

The film seems uncertain who the protagonist is here: Sam or Luke? Rather than giving us a touching odd couple film about these two disparate characters thrown together, we’re given neither’s story in any true depth. Sam – introduced via a bout in a boxing ring – is a faux strong female character of the finest degree, her childhood trauma making her a bit of a ‘schiz’ (her words, not mine) with a bad attitude and a sassy way with the men around her. Trouble is, she remains a victim until maybe the final frames of the film, with a tenuous suggestion that she might be on the road to recovery. Trouble is again, she doesn’t get herself out of her rut, which would have been a much more interesting story to watch. Instead, enter Luke, 2D nice young man thrown into this convoluted serial killer storyline when he wakes up after his 21st birthday celebrations to find his ‘best friend’ (we wouldn’t know that unless he said it, of course) dead and mutilated in his bathroom. The night before his friends take him, grudgingly, to a strip club, because of course Luke is a nice boy and isn’t into such filth. Sadly, ‘nice boy’ is about all we ever get to know about Luke, and so he, again, remains by the end of the film. The challenges the really stupid plot twist throws at him barely dent his good guy status, which is just a bit boring, ultimately.

Sadly, there are glimmers of greatness here. The performances from Wakefield and Horn are decent enough, and when the script allows it, they’re actually very good, as is the storytelling. Witness the sequence in which Sam explains in a bit more detail to Luke what happened the night her sister was taken by the serial killer. Sam’s account of the night is intercut with flashbacks to two girls, and the manner in which we discover which girl was Sam is really quite a nifty example of playing with audience expectations and as a result is effectively moving. A scene not long after this, in which Luke offers Sam ‘just a hug’ is almost lovely, until it fades to black far too soon – the editing is rather rubbish throughout, in fact – and is quickly cheapened by Sam jumping his bones the next day anyway, having said she wasn’t going to shag him. However, that does lead to one exchange of dialogue that made me laugh out loud, so that’s something I suppose, and is testament to Wakefield’s good performance.

Performances elsewhere are not quite so great – the almost brilliant character of coroner Dr. McQueen is completely let down by rubbish dialogue and a slightly dodgy performance from Imogen Bain – and the characters are really rather stock even when they’re trying to be interesting (quirky coroner! horrible detective!), much like the leads. I also found myself being quite distracted by almost all the performances being delivered in the same, clipped, well-spoken way, to the point where I’m pretty sure plenty of the actors could have swapped roles and it would have made little difference to the film. Shaun Dingwall, seen recently in The Forgotten, is excellent, but completely wasted in a minor role.

The inconsistency of the film extends to its style too – it just doesn’t know if it wants to by grimy or glossy. There are some excellent practical effects in the film (the early view of many dead bodies is effective) but that’s somewhat undercut by an unnecessary use of our old friend, CGI blood. It’s constantly rainy, in a sub-David Fincher sort of way, and boasts some suitably run-down interiors, but then it’s lit and dressed in such a way that everyone looks really rather too beautiful and neat. The insistent use of strip clubs as a backdrop to the investigation was meant to add to the grime, I suppose, and it’s partially successful, but only in so much as it just struck me as a cheap and dull way of getting loads of T&A into the film (which, to me, made the really naked post-autopsy scenes rather crass). The flashback scenes, including the extended opening sequence, feature the tidiest digital fake-video grain I’ve ever seen, which has something of the opposite effect of making these scenes look grimy and old.

Ultimately, Scar Tissue is a brazen rip off of many influences, down to the sub-Clouser and sub-Reznor soundtrack and an attempt at a corpse-switch as effective as the Lecter/Pembry switch in Silence of the Lambs. There’s plenty of competency and even potential on display here, but Scar Tissue is just not a very interesting or exciting film.

Scar Tissue is out now on UK DVD and VOD from Warwick Films.

By Svetlana Fedotov

I usually like to start my reviews with some vague tidbit or smart ass comment that loosely connects my review to the review subject, but screw that. Dustin Nguyen and Jeff Lemire wrote a comic! About SPACE! AND ROBOTS! That’s good enough of an introduction. Both Nguyen and Lemire are two of the growing number of artists and writers from Marvel and DC who got caught in the bright lights of Image Comics and its promise to give the weary, schedule strict creators an unrestricted amount of freedom and personal space. Descender is the end result of the couples dubious affair with Image, a sweeping epic of space and technology and at its center, a man who has lost everything and an android who’s looking for anyone.

The comic opens up on a galaxy far, far way where the nine core planets of the United Galactic Council have had a steady, if not a bit shaky, alliance of peace for several centuries. Of course, that peace shatters like a wine glass in a villain’s hand as robots, dubbed “The Harvesters,” appear overnight at every major planet and just trash everything. While most of the biological life is killed, The Harvesters take care not to harm android life, sparking a robot genocide perpetuated by the last living creatures. At the center of this war is Dr. Quon, a once respected robotics scientist forced to squabble in misery after his expertise failed to save everyone, and Tim 21, a young android unaware of the horrors of the past ten years. Though they have yet to meet, little do they know how important they are to each other.

I’m not exactly sure what a space opera is but, if it’s what I think it is, Descender would definitely be up for a Tony. For fans of emotionally driven sci-fi with a touch of philosophy and robot dogs, Descender plays it up in spades. From the grandiosity of the nine planets and the overwhelming presence of “The Harvesters” to the little life speck of Tim 21 left alone on an abandoned outpost, there is no place un-touched by the sharp point of Jeff Lemire’s pen. Despite grappling with such a heady subjects as politics, genocide, and the push of technology, the comic stays surprisingly intimate; spending a large amount of time with Tim 21 as he searches for answers on his lonely rock of a planet. By placing the reader in the shoes of an equally confused protagonist, we get the Luke Skywalker/Empire Strikes Back experience all over again. We are invited to explore the universe with such wide-eyed wonder, it’s a wonder our eyeballs don’t pop out of our heads.

Not to be outdone, Dustin Nguyen’s art compliments Lemire’s words while still being able to exist beautifully on its own. Nguyen’s signature art style, a pop art/water color mix could not have been a better choice for this epic. He has a distinct eye for space usage and placement while adding just the right colors to create a world that is as inclusive as it is unique. The stars are starry, the planets are planetary, and the feels? Babe, the feels are real. Nguyen makes damn sure of that. Debuting with a whopping 40 pages, Descender #1 hits shelves March 4!