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UK DVD Review: Karloff in Val Lewton’s ‘Isle of the Dead’

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Isle of the Dead (1945)
Distributor: Odeon Entertainment
DVD Release Date: 6th June 2011
Directed by: Mark Robson
Starring: Boris Karloff, Ellen Drew, Marc Cramer
Review by: Nia Edwards-Behi

With a title like Isle of the Dead, you might expect a zombie movie, as I certainly did. However, this RKO picture is something completely different, an unusual and atmospheric setting allowing for a very different sort of monster to take centre stage. General Pherides (Boris Karloff), in the midst of the First Balkan War, takes a trip with a fellow soldier to the island where his wife is buried. Pherides’ tactical decisions are questioned, his decisions deemed inconsiderate of the lives of his men. Arriving on the island, the two men discover that its people are quarantined, but while some residents fear that a plague is rampant, others fear a more supernatural cause of death.

I admit, I had to look up the First Balkan War. The conflict doesn’t feature all that heavily in the film, but rather provides a backdrop for the exploration of two monsters: one human, one not so much. Karloff gives a pitch-perfect performance as Pherides, he’s uptight, weary and mean, but somehow likeable. Maddened by grief and seclusion, Karloff presents a sad, paranoid shell of a man with an understated and sympathetic performance.

Isle of the Dead isn’t a particularly frightening film, but it is highly atmospheric. Like many other Val Lewton pictures, the film is psychologically twisted, presenting fearful characters and tense settings effectively and concisely. Like Lewton’s own Cat People, central to Isle of the Dead is the mysterious female creature, the Greek vorvolakas. A sort of psychic vampire, one of the island’s inhabitants is accused of being such a creature, an accusation she vehemently denies. The vorvolakas is vampiric in a similar way to the wurdulak (an alternative name for the Greek creature being vurdulakas) – this is no Dracula, no Carmilla. There is dread and menace and death in the air. If Thea (Ellen Drew) truly is a vorvolakas, it is an inherent part of her nature, and not something she has chosen to be – just as Pherides’ paranoia and grief are inherent to his.

Had Isle of the Dead used a more traditional idea of the vampire, and a more familiar setting, it might not have been so interesting a film – not that the setting looks particularly like Greece, aside from the occasional costume. The elemental nature emphasised in the vorvolakas is beautifully reflected in the film’s formal construction, perhaps most notably so in a great montage of hands being washed in clear water cutting to a burning ritual fire. The best shot of the entire film might even be the first: a hunched Pherides washes his hands as the camera pans out to reveal the shadows of his men arguing against the tent wall behind him. Establishing a not-quite-right atmosphere from the outset, Pherides’ downfall seems inevitable.

Isle of the Dead is an enjoyable film, not nearly as hokey as its title suggests. Elevated perhaps by Karloff and Lewton’s involvement, Isle of the Dead is the sort of film you need to draw the curtains for. It leaves a slight feeling of unease in its wake, much like the vorvlakas herself.

UK DVD Review: Eyeborgs

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Eyeborgs (2009)
Distributor: Momentum
DVD Release Date: 20th June 2011
Directed by: Richard Clabaugh
Starring: Adrian Paul, Megan Blake, Luke Eberl, Danny Trejo
Review by: Ben Bussey

It’s the near future, and the USA is yet again in a state of high alert. Terrorism, crime, disorder and all that jazz have resulted in the passing of the Freedom Of Observation Act, which legally feeds every sound and image from every recording device in the country into a single national security dubbed ODIN; the Optical Defence Intelligence Network, naturally. It’s where the cops and the courts get their evidence. But as well as those old players, there are some new guys on the law enforcement scene; fleets of surveillance robots, essentially CCTV cameras on legs, whose name you may have already ascertained from the title. But how do we know that the images they show are the absolute truth…? And what if… gulp… these little robots didn’t just make videos, but killed stuff too?

Damn, where was this concept about twenty-five years ago? If I could have given one piece of advice to director/co-writer Richard Clabaugh before he went into production, it would have been this: fuck CG, this one has to be stop-motion. The Eyeborgs belong in that same charming, clunky mode of animation that gave us ED-209, the At-Tat Walkers, and of course those big bad brawling machines of Robojox (or Robot Jox, as we in Britain know it, for some unknown reason). For them to be realised via clean, sleek CGI; it just feels wrong, and robs the whole endeavour of so much of its potential charm. Still, it’s very much second rate Sy-Fy movie CGI, so that goes some way to making amends.

However, don’t be fooled by the presence of killer robot eyeballs with spider legs, nor the fact that the lead is played by the guy from Highlander: The Series, nor the presence of a cameo from Danny “I take the bit parts Sam Jackson used to take” Trejo. This isn’t just another dumb-ass straight to DVD sci-fi B-movie; this is a dumb-ass straight to DVD sci-fi B-movie with… another gulp… a social conscience. Not content to give us murderous miniature robosapiens, Clabaugh and company also want to give us food for thought, presenting us with a vision of a possible future which in many respects isn’t too implausible. For of course, like pretty much all science fiction of real value, Eyeborgs is really about what’s happening in the world right now rather than what might happen in years to come. And in these days of media manipulation, the proliferation of surveillance and governments thinking nothing of infringing the civil liberties of their citizens, all in the name of national security, maybe it’s not so unlikely that little robot eyeballs could be walking around on spider legs scoping us out…

It may already be apparent where the real problem lies with Eyeborgs. It hinges on a fairly absurd device, yet aims to tackle serious issues. Is such an approach feasible? Absolutely. Let’s not forget our aforementioned friend ED-209, the star of that impeccable balance of sci-fi spectacle and social commentary that is Robocop. And what a movie Eyeborgs could have been if Clabaugh had taken a more Verhoeven-ish approach; more larger-than-life characterisations, more visceral death scenes, more arch satire. Ten to one says Verhoeven would have taken more advantage of the voyeuristic potential of the premise, too, which Clabaugh only touches on lightly.

Ultimately, the whole thing is played a little too straight for my liking, and as such it falls awkwardly between posts, too silly for serious sci-fi (sorry, SF) devotees, but not silly enough for lovers of DTV trash. Don’t go in expecting much and you won’t be disappointed, but I doubt anyone will be holding this up alongside The Matrix, They Live, Brazil and other such totaliterian nightmare movie classics.

UK DVD Review: Demons Rising

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Demons Rising (2008)
Distributor: MVM
DVD Release date (UK): 6th June 2011
Directed by: William Lee
Starring: William Lee, Talisha Battle, Donald A. Becker
Review by: Stephanie Scaife

Billed as an “action-adventure, horror, martial arts, crime drama, cult, vigilante, gangsta flick” Demons Rising is certainly a very ambitious film. William Lee is the director, writer, editor, cinematographer as well as being the main star and he is clearly a man with a vision who has put a lot of effort into this no budget independent film. The end result however is a mixed bag that varies from being unintentionally amusing to just plain boring without ever really amounting to anything, even with its overlong running time.

The plot concerns The Liber Malorum – the book of life and death – that was created by heretic monks to raise the dead and turn the living into demons, thought to have vanished long ago the book has now appeared in Italy. A man named Angelo Montorio has set out to find the book with the aid of Kyle Rush, a thief who specialises in finding rare items. Montorio soon double crosses his partner and disappears with the book having left Rush’s girlfriend for dead following a heist gone wrong. Rush, hell bent on revenge, enlists a former covert operator turned Buddhist monk named Matthias Locke (William Lee) to help him track down Montorio. Meanwhile an elderly woman comes into possession of the book and has turned into a rampaging demon.

The films itself is nothing short of terrible. It looks like a home movie, the acting is wooden, the dialogue is clichéd and clunky, the dodgy camera work makes much of it near unwatchable and the narrative doesn’t make a whole lot of sense. It is pretty much exactly what you would expect from this kind of low budget horror film. However, I would feel bad for trashing Demons Rising too much as it is clearly a labour of love for Lee and you can’t deny his dedication and ambition. Perhaps with a budget and some serious editing this could have been something interesting but as it stands it is neither a film I’d recommend or ever want to watch again. 

The DVD is a very basic offering with a 4:3 transfer, DD 2.0 audio and no special features or language options. It is released in the UK on 6th June.

UK DVD Review: Who Can Kill A Child?

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Who Can Kill A Child? (AKA ¿Quién puede matar a un niño?/Island of the Damned) (1976)
Distributor: Eureka
DVD Release Date: 23 May 2011
Directed by: Narciso Ibáñez Serrador
Starring: Lewis Fiander, Prunella Ransome
Review by: Ben Bussey

A comfortably middle class English couple, with two children at home and a third on the way, take a trip away from it all. Leaving their existing offspring behind, Tom (Fiander) takes Evelyn (Ransome) to visit an obscure Spanish island, Almanzora. Escaping the hectic coast of the mainland, the peace and quiet they find in Almanzora is at first a welcome relief. But it isn’t long before quiet gives way to too quiet; and even less time before that gives way to outright panic at the shocking truth. Slowly but surely Tom and Evelyn realise the only people alive on the island are the children. And where did all the adults go? Yes, you guessed it… the kiddies killed them all. To avoid the same fate, Tom and Evelyn must fight to stay alive, which may mean kill or be killed. But who can… well, the title says it all.

With (amongst others) Ils, Eden Lake, The Children and F, contemporary horror has seen quite the resurgence of that thorny killer kids subgenre. Narciso Ibáñez Serrador’s film has been cited as pioneering this subgenre, and it isn’t hard to see why. Toeing the line between sleaze and sophistication the way so much European horror of the 70s does, Who Can Kill A Child is as likely to provoke debate today as it was on release. On the one hand it’s a largely efficient, atmospheric and entertaining chiller; on the other hand, it will almost certainly push the boundaries of taste and decency too far for some, even hardened modern fans, for it tackles that one taboo that never fails to set off a red light. Be it Boris Karloff throwing a little girl in a river, or all those things that need not be repeated from A Serbian Film, the suffering of children on film will always cause a stir.

Let’s sidestep that for now, though, and consider the film purely as an exercise in stylised horror. In the DVD extras, cinematographer José Luis Alcaine speaks of the film being inspired by Night of the Living Dead and The Birds; these, plus Assault On Precinct 13 (made in the same year), were indeed the films that I was most reminded of. It’s the same basic set-up: normal people thrown into a very abnormal situation, in which they are under attack for no apparent reason by those they would not ordinarily regard a real physical threat. And as in Hitchcock, Romero and Carpenter’s films, no explanation for the situation is given, and rightly so. In this manner of nightmare movie, the whys and wherefores are of no real importance; all that matters is how the protagonists react, and for the most part the actions of the bemused English couple are believable and compelling, helped by strong performances from Lewis Fiander and Prunella Ransome.

Where the film is more troublesome is in its pretences toward social relevance. If the action kicked off right away with Tom and Evelyn, there would be very little to complain about; however, Serrador chooses to open with a seven-minute psuedo-newsreel, showing real life footage of various regions of the world afflicted by war, disease and famine, subjecting the viewer to numerous genuine images of dead or suffering children. To say that this is utterly gratuitous, crass and exploitative would be quite the understatement. Sorry to dig up the whole Serbian Film debate yet again (though for the record, I completely respect Marc’s reasons for not watching it), but in many respects Who Can Kill A Child is truly guilty of the charge that A Serbian Film has had levelled against it; feigning a socio-political message to justify sadistic content. Spasojevic’s film does not (repeat does not) at any point show children actually being hurt. Serrador’s film does, and in putting this footage front and centre it casts an ugly shadow over all that follows.

Still, Who Can Kill A Child is hardly unique among films of its time for taking certain things a little too far, and if we can accept or at least overlook this pretentious excess there is still much about the film to appreciate. It’s stood the test of time better than many of its era, conjuring a genuinely tense and bleak atmosphere, and for the most part it is intelligently written and performed. Bypass your good taste faculties for a little while and you might just enjoy yourself. And the DVD Eureka have put together will do a nice job of putting it into context, with interviews with Serrador and Alcaine from the 2007 Dark Sky region 1 DVD.

UK DVD Review: Dead Hooker In A Trunk

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Dead Hooker In A Trunk (2009)
Distributor: Bounty Films/Eureka Video
DVD Release Date: 23 May 2011
Directed by: Jen Soska & Sylvia Soska
Starring: Ricki Gagne, Jen Soska, Sylvia Soska, C J Wallis
Review by: Ben Bussey

If I’m not mistaken, I’ve never written a second review for the same film at Brutal As Hell. I’ve given my own take on films that have been previously reviewed, and done follow-up bits and pieces on my own reviews, but I’ve never attempted to fully re-assess a film within the 800-1,000ish words that generally constitutes a full length write-up round these parts. But I’m doing it now. Not because my feelings about the film in question have changed all that radically since the UK premiere at Ghouls on Film in February 2010; but more because, in the time that has elapsed since, it has become abundantly clear that the Soska Sisters really do mean business, and that they are here to stay.

Allow me to put my initial viewing of Dead Hooker In A Trunk in context; after all, as I’ve noted before the circumstances under which we see a movie have a tremendous impact on our interpretation, and oftentimes we don’t acknowledge this enough. Well, back in February ’10, I’d had it up to my bloodshot eyeballs with microbudget DV horror. Why? Because I’d been given so much of it to review in the months before, screener after screener dropping through my letterbox, and the vast majority of it was absolute horseshit. I know Marc in particular prides this site as being heavily pro-indie filmmaking, ‘punk as fuck’ and all that, and philosophically speaking I wholeheartedly concur; but seriously man, some of these fucking films… take a look at any given title released under the Brain Damage label. Taste of Flesh, Fist of the Vampire, Bachelor Party in the Bungalow of the Damned. It’s one thing to want to fly in the face of mainstream convention; I can respect that. But it doesn’t hurt if you actually have the first clue about what constitutes good filmmaking, which so few of the people behind these lo-fi flicks seem to. These weren’t so bad-it’s-good movies, they were so-bad-you-are-tempted-to-gouge-your-own-eyes-out movies, and they left me with a very low tolerance for the tell-tale signs of microbudget filmmaking: shaky DV photography, fuzzy sound, incoherent editing, incompetent actors. (Is Dead Hooker In A Trunk guilty of all of these? No; some, but not all. Bear with me, I’m getting to that.)

And so, to Ghouls On Film. The opening feature, Slaughtered, pretty much ticked all the boxes for bog-standard microbudget horror: poorly assembled and executed, and worse still painfully derivative. Coming off the back of that, my expectations for Dead Hooker In A Trunk were kept in check. So when the movie started, I had the kind of Pavlovian response Keri spoke of in her Red Canyon review, noticing nothing at first but the shaky, murky image and muffled sound, and as such immediately supposing the film to be just ‘another one of those.’

The difference here, however – and the thing I should have paid heed to from the get-go – is how Dead Hooker In A Trunk does not adhere to a set format the way the bulk of microbudget horror does. It isn’t five kids in a house. It isn’t another zombie, slasher or Blair Witch wannabe movie. It’s more grindhouse, yet it doesn’t ape a 70s aesthetic as most do. Bad girls on the run versus cops, drug gangs, pimps and psycho killers; sure, it’s not a unique premise, but it’s not one we see too often, particularly at this level of indie-filmmaking.

As I said of the Soska Sisters’ efforts in my first review: “They may be trying a little too hard here, but that’s a minor offence considering so many no-budget indies of this ilk don’t seem to try at all.”

I maintain there’s plenty about Dead Hooker In A Trunk that doesn’t really work. It’s overloaded and feels overlong, even at 85 minutes; its incessant quirkiness and expletive-ridden dialogue tends to feel contrived, and at times works against the film overall. But, as repeat viewing makes clear, there’s so much about it that really does work. There aren’t too many microbudget films I could mention that boast action sequences as well-conceived and brilliantly realised as those here. There really are moments where, even with repeat viewing, you can’t help but gape and wonder how the hell they did it. Also, while blood-drenched torture scenes may be ten a penny these days, how many of them play out to the dulcet tones of the Beach Boys?

And then there’s the central cast. One of the key problems with most of the indie horror I’ve so derided here is that they tend to be cast with either charmless buffoons who are presumably friends of the director, and/or talentless pretty people whose only redeeming quality is their willingness to disrobe on camera. Not so here. Ricki Gagne, CJ Wallis and of course the Soskas themselves are genuinely charismatic performers; people you enjoy spending an hour and a half with. It is their charisma as individuals, and overall chemistry as a group, that will bring people back to watch this movie over and over. And their work is all the more impressive when you consider all but Gagne were doing multiple jobs on the film; the Soskas multi-tasking is established, plus CJ Wallis was one of the principal cinematographers, as well as editing the film and composing and performing the music.

This DVD from Bounty/Eureka is a pretty good one for repeat viewing and fan indulgence. The sound and picture looks to have been cleaned up a fair bit, and with two commentaries, behind the scenes footage and deleted scenes, all the trailers and a (regrettably brief) interview snippet with Carlos Gallardo – and, as the directorial commentary makes clear, El Mariachi and Robert Rodriguez’s book Rebel Without A Crew were a major influence on the Soskas – pretty much all the bases are covered. And as the Twisted Twins themselves excitedly announced on Facebook, Amazon UK sold out its initial run within 48 hours. Yes, the fanboys/fangirls are out in force already.

Their upcoming second movie American Mary is, I think I can safely say, one of our most anticipated films of 2011. Once that’s in the can and on the screen, we shall see if the Soskas can deliver on this early promise. Either way, they’ve made a debut feature that, for all its flaws, really does stands apart; that’s a rare thing, and worthy of celebration.

DVD Review: Red Canyon

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Red Canyon (2008)
Distributor: Chelsea Films
DVD Release Date (UK): 23 May 2011
Directed by: Giovanni Rodriguez
Starring: Christine Lakin, Tim Draxl, Katie Maguire, Norman Reedus
Review by: Keri O’Shea

As a person who watches more than their share of low budget indie horrors, I have developed certain almost Pavlovian responses to clichéd content which crops up so very, very often. On that account, if a film begins by showing me a carful of irritating twentysomethings on their way to stay in a ramshackle dwelling somewhere remote/dangerous then that script, characterisation and plot had better be decent. Well, although Red Canyon eventually manages to weave something quite bleak out of its various elements, it plain doesn’t do enough to distinguish itself from all of those other films where I’m rooting for the demise of everyone on the road trip by twenty minutes in.

Things start abruptly: a guy called Devon (Tim Draxl) and his sister Regina (Christine Lakin) are seen heading into a local cave (for reasons as yet unknown). What we glean is that the cave looks to have some sort of laboratory in it, and whatever ‘party’ was held there has turned up a few dead folk. Hmm. Next thing we know, and it is hard to make out, but a guy in a gas mask attacks Devon…

The brother and sister duo evidently escape though: we then hop forward, according to a subtitle, ‘some years later’ and, with the annoying friends now in tow they’re heading back to where this trauma took place – their old home town – to make a decision on selling or inhabiting their mother’s old house. Before this stage, we run the gamut of overused horror plot devices: car trouble; people commenting on the general isolation of the area; several references to how far they all are from home – although happily I don’t recall that anyone took out their mobile phone and expressed surprise that there was ‘no signal’. Essentially though, everyone shines at establishing themselves as beneath contempt. Regina, or ‘Reggie,’ looks to be the character with whom we’re meant to empathise, but the flashbacks to the attack she suffered are just too brief and unclear to secure attention and her continued practice of hiding behind doors/cars as she listens to her brother and friends describe her as nuts seemed like a jaded plot device. Unperturbed by her plight, though, her friends seem to be participating in the world’s worst tourist video as sweeping long shots of the dramatic countryside vie for position with footage of the group exploring, biking, antagonising local pets and local people with their presence. Around this time we start getting shots of an irate, fist-clenching guy, so it looks as though at least one person would rather they weren’t around.

Regina at this point decides that the best way to deal with her partial memory of a traumatic experience is to head, alone, back to the same cave/drug den which still seems to have scary people lurking within. She’s rescued, but at what cost? One might wonder what the hell she was thinking in the first place, but at least her stupid actions have kicked off the inevitable bloodshed.

Though you have to wait a long time for it, writer/director Giovanni Rodriguez obviously has some ambitions in terms of structure here. Thing is, we also have poorly-delineated characters, inexplicable motivations and gaps in the script. The more-novel-than-expected framing device meant little to me because I never really felt the development of enough tension to keep me interested. You can be lost in a maze, but if you didn’t realise you were entering that maze then you won’t marvel at the amount of wrong turns or the work that went into laying it out, you’ll just want to get the hell out of there. These people just suck: putting aside the issue of a brother taking his traumatised, needy sister back to the place where she had her life ruined, putting aside her running shrieking to that very place once she arrives in town, ignoring the bizarre decision to subtitle one of the (perfectly understandable) townspeople, what we have here are weakly-drawn characters who can’t sustain the story. When that story winds up as an unseemly sort of rape whodunit, then you’ve lost me, and I suspect many others too. Yes, it’s bleak. It also felt like a cynical method of trying to assure shock value, but still failing because – and I know I come back to this often in my reviews – without the most basic elements of engaging writing intact, this is just another spin on a weary, overpopulated subgenre.

Blu-Ray Review: The Bird With The Crystal Plumage

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The Bird With The Crystal Plumage (1970)
Distributor: Arrow
Blu-Ray Release Date: 23 May 2011
Directed by: Dario Argento
Starring: Tom Musante, Suzy Kendall, Enrico Maria Salerno
Review by: Nia Edwards-Behi

Looking back at Dario Argento’s first film in light of his later output is something of a bittersweet experience. Where more recent offerings from the one time maestro of the macabre have been disappointing to say the least, to revisit Bird with the Crystal Plumage is an absolute treat. A ground breaking thriller, Bird would become the blueprint for the wave after wave of gialli that followed. Argento’s animal trilogy is perhaps a little neglected in light of the later, giddy highs of Profondo Rosso and Suspiria, but its influence cannot be underestimated. Starting with Bird, the trilogy would cement the conventions of the distinctly Italian genre, refining what Mario Bava started with the likes of The Girl Who Knew Too Much.

American writer Sam Dalmas (Tony Musante) is witness to a knife attack on a woman in an art gallery. When he is forced to stay in Italy as a witness to the crime and potential suspect, he decides to try to solve the case himself, uncovering murder, intrigue and madness along the way. The opening attack is one of the great giallo set-pieces. As Dalmas is trapped between the locked sliding glass doors that mark the entrance to the gallery, he can do nothing but look on as Monica Ranieri (Eva Renzi) begs for help. What this set piece concisely encapsulates is one of the great themes of the giallo: the incompetence of traditional masculinity. The giallo protagonist is rarely a tough guy, and Argneto’s leading men aptly demonstrate this, his films populated with writers, musicians, painters and generally artistic types who decide to risk life and limb in order to uncover the perpetrators of violent crimes. Of course, it’s usually other people’s lives and limbs that end up maimed along the way. The artist triumphs at the film’s close, but rarely through any act of traditional heroics.

This sense of gender crisis is also effectively heightened by the film’s still-excellent twist. See the film once, twice or a fanatic’s number of times and the revelation of the killer’s identity still packs an impressive punch. Establishing what would also become a giallo and Argento staple, the revelation of the unexpected killer forces a questioning of what we’ve witnessed prior: horrendous acts of violence become all the more twisted in light of climactic revelations. These acts of violence that occur throughout the film still have the power to shock, particularly the infamous knicker-ripping murder. Franco Fraticelli’s editing ensures maximum effectiveness in a collaboration with Argento which would prove masterful time and time again. It’s not only of key murder scenes that this is true, but the lengthy yellow jackets chase sequence is as tense and exhilarating as it is ludicrous thanks in part to Fraticelli’s tight editing.

Another key aspect of what makes Argento’s films so successful, which is evident in Bird, is the wonderful sound-design. Given the key role of sound in the film’s narrative – a vital clue to discovering the killer’s identity comes in the form of a recording of the titular bird’s call – it comes as no surprise that sound and music is such an important factor of Bird’s tense atmosphere. Ennio Morricone’s intrusive but haunting music is memorable, as lurid at times as some of Argento’s bravura camerwork. Argento’s mastery of cinematic spectacle is evident, from the point-of-view shot of a woman as she smokes a cigarette in bed to throwing a camera out of a window to simulate the fall of a man.

Three impressive extras appear on Arrow’s Blu-ray edition of Bird. First, A Crystal Classic: Luigi Cozzi Remembers Dario’s Bloody Bird provides a very detailed account of the conception of Bird, and its significance to Italian cinema. There’s an interesting anecdote about Bertollucci’s involvement in noting The Screaming Mimi as a good novel to adapt, which would provide the uncredited inspiration for Bird. Cozzi also highlights the importance of key collaborators such as Fraticelli. Coinciding with the importance of Bird to the giallo, the interview Sergio Martino: The Genesis of the Giallo is practically a documentary, providing a very thorough consideration of the giallo from Martino, who collaborated with Argento and Bava, as well as directing his own, well-known gialli. Fond recollections of Bava and Fulci are just enjoyable snippets of what’s an informative and entertaining view of the genre, with a wonderful overview of Martino’s own film Torso. Again, it’s great to get the view of someone who worked within the genre, and to hear of its influence from an Italian perspective. For me, it was also nice to hear Martino attribute much of Italy’s international success to its genre cinema and not just their auteurist greats. The great Italian auteurs do get a look in, though, courtesy Argento himself, in The Italian Hitchcock: Dario Argento Remembers Bird with the Crystal Plumage. Despite the moniker used in the title, Argento himself notes “I am nothing like Hitchcock. He was a genius. A maestro.” It sounds modest, but it’s not so much the case as Argento discusses the influence of Antonioni on his own work, as well as his fondness for Fellini, Bergman, German Expressionism and the French New Wave. As always with these Argento interviews, it’s an incredibly self-reflective snippet from the man, but at the same time slightly schizophrenic.

As a fan, I’m always incredibly grateful to Arrow for the insights these interviews provide, as well as the loving transfers of the films. With several more Argento releases on their upcoming slate, this fan knows she’s got a lot to look forward to.

UK DVD Review: The Devil Dared Me To

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The Devil Dared Me To (2007)
Distributor: Entertainment One/FrightFest Features
DVD Release Date: 23rd May 2011
Directed by: Chris Stapp
Starring: Chris Stapp, Matt Heath, Bonnie Soper, Andrew Beattie
Review by: Ben Bussey

Randy Campbell is a young man from the south island of New Zealand. He may be surrounded by green farmland and sheep, but his heart resonates with the roar of engines and the scream of the crowd, for Randy is descended from several generations of New Zealand stuntmen. Indeed, he is one of the few surviving members of his family, having as a two year old witnessed his father killed horribly in a stunt gone wrong, and been subsequently raised by his aunt, who was hideously disfigured in the same accident, and his overprotective uncle. A chance to break free comes with a visit to his hometown from the new big name in New Zealand daredevil stunts, Dick Johansonson (Heath, also co-writer with Stapp). Sneaking out to watch the show, Randy soon meets the future love of his life in Tracy ‘Tragedy’ Jones, and gets the chance to participate in Dick’s big stunt of the night; this too soon results in a few horrible deaths and dismemberments. But it gets young Randy on Dick’s team, and soon enough Randy’s a grown man (in the form of director/co-writer Stapp), and his dreams of daredevil stardom are bigger than ever. But with the spiteful, envious Dick staring over his shoulder, it’s going to be a rough ride to the top.

As a raucous, ribald comedy that shares much common ground with your typical Will Ferrell or Seth Rogen movies – absurdly overconfident protagonists with no sense of their own idiocy – this is a decidedly unexpected choice for the fledgling FrightFest Features to distribute. Certainly, The Devil Dared Me To – or Dick: The Devil Dared Me To, as it has inexplicably been released stateside, with cover art showing Matt Heath but not Chris Stapp (Randy is clearly the lead, so what inspired that decision I have no idea) – is a grisly affair at times, with more than a few people being dismembered and/or burnt to a crisp, cheeks both upper and lower being punctured by broken glass, and a particularly eye-watering cautionary tale about the consequences of a trampoline stunt gone wrong. In spite of all this, no one could ever mistake this film for horror. That said, it did indeed play at FrightFest ’07, and as such it stands testament to the broad scope of the festival (indeed, last year’s event included such decidedly non-horrific fare as Fanboys). This would seem to indicate that FrightFest Features will be taking a similar approach with this venture into the realm of distribution, with a broader agenda than cut-and-dried horror.

What you can really expect from The Devil Dared Me To is an amusing, relatively light-hearted comedy with just enough of a hard edge to keep the bloodthirsty interested. On the one hand it’s much like any comedy that charts the ups and downs of a character’s professional life, from The Jerk to just about any Ferrell film you could mention. Stapp’s Randy is more Navin Johnson than Ron Burgundy/Ricky Bobby, however; dimwitted but for the most part innocent. The part of brash, egotistical buffoon goes to Heath’s aptly-named Dick, who quickly establishes himself as reprehensible and pathetic. As Randy steps out of Dick’s shadow and starts to steal the limelight, the inevitable rivalry escalates in a manner not too dissimilar to that of Hugh Jackman and Christian Bale in The Prestige. Where the film really takes the audience off-guard is how close to the bone it gets; in amidst the madcap laughs there are moments of loss and pain that are played surprisingly straight, and lend quite an emotional weight to what might otherwise have been somewhat light entertainment.

And on top of it all, it’s a New Zealand movie. The nation that gave us Peter Jackson and Black Sheep is always going to have a place in the heart of horror audiences, and The Devil Dared Me To carries much the same vulgar/potentially offensive brand of humour. If you’re at all amused by fathers who swear profusely in front of their children, sexy female amputees (put to film pre-Planet Terror, we might add), and the obviously dire consequences of ridiculous vehicular stunts, then you’ll find plenty to laugh at. And speaking of the stunts, this team have clearly taken a leaf from the book of their Australian neighbours, as they go the Ozsploitation route of doing as much of the stuntwork themselves as possible, with health, safety and insurance given little regard. And it shows. Chris Stapp in particular pulls off a couple of really hair-raising moves, and knowing that it’s really him doing it does get the viewer that bit more invested.

And that’s really the crux of The Devil Dared Me To: it may mock the stunt world, but it clearly acknowledges that stunts are fun, and the more preposterous and unsafe they are the better. Like This Is Spinal Tap before, it’s as much a love letter as a lampoon, and as such it will likely earn the affection of anyone who loves watching things crash and burn.

DVD Review: Shadow

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Shadow (2009)
Distributor: Entertainment One
DVD Release date: 23rd May (UK)
Directed by: Federico Zampaglione
Starring: Jake Muxworthy, Karina Testa, Nuot Arquint
Review by: Stephanie Scaife

Shadow is to be the first film released by FrightFest Features, a new joint venture with FrightFest and Wild Bunch that will be releasing genre material in the UK through distributor Entertainment One. Unsurprisingly, FrightFest was where Shadow first premiered back in 2009. At the time I remembered being decidedly underwhelmed by the film, making it a slightly disappointing choice to launch this new FrightFest venture.  I was interested to revisit it to see if it improved any with multiple viewings but much to my annoyance it was perhaps even worse the second time around.

From first time director Federico Zampaglione, better known in Italy as a musician, Shadow is a bizarre mishmash of various horror genres starting off as a Deliverance style backwoods thriller, switching midway through into a surreal torture horror akin to the likes of Hostel (for a lazy comparison) or the lesser known British horror film Creep from 2005, surmounting in an unforgiveable shock ending taking it down a notch from being mediocre to just plain bad.

David (Jake Muxworthy) is a young soldier newly out of Afghanistan who is on a mountain biking holiday around Europe, he meets up with another young traveller named Angeline (Karina Testa) and they quickly hit it off. However, their newly kindled romance is soon jeopardised by a pair of asshole idiotic hunters who take an instant dislike to young couple, pursuing them through the mountainous woodland in a banal cat and mouse fashion.

This all seems to happen very quickly and inexplicably and is fairly generic, then out of nowhere Shadow takes a major turn and changes into an almost entirely different film. David and the two hunters, having been caught up in various traps, find themselves in a remote but surprisingly well stocked bunker, held prisoner by the incredibly creepy Mortis (Nuot Arquint), one of the strangest looking protagonists that I’ve seen in a long time. He is freakishly tall and skinny, enjoys watching old news footage of genocide and various other atrocities whilst indulging in a bizarre frog licking habit. This second half of the film is the stronger of the two and it has some striking imagery, mostly due to the remarkable presence of Arquint, as well as a few decent gory moments. But overall the whole thing is so inconsistent that it is difficult to be invested in any of the characters or the plot.

So, in the space of about 70 minutes we’re essentially given 2 halves of 2 very different sorts of films, seemingly unrelated in tone and narrative except for the same central characters. Then in the last 5 minutes we’re treated to the mother of all narrative cop-out endings, which may kinda sorta offers an explanation of sorts for the incoherent mess that had come before it, but it doesn’t stop the entire film being an infuriatingly indulgent mess.

The DVD I viewed was a bog standard check-disc so I can’t comment on what wondrous special features may be in store, but it is released in the UK on 23rd May and is currently widely available in the US.

Dead By Dawn Review: Cold Fish

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Cold Fish (2010)
Directed by: Shion Sono
Starring: Mitsuru Fukikoshi, Makoto Ashikawa, Denden, Hikari Kajiwara
Review by: Keri O’Shea

If you’re familiar with the work of Japanese director Shion Sono – the man behind Suicide Circle (with arguably one of the best opening sequences ever committed to horror celluloid) and Hair Extensions – then you’ll know the way he assaults the family unit with a blend of shock horror and bleak black comedy. Cold Fish is no exception to that formula: this is a lengthy, often uncomfortable examination of an everyday guy who, by increments, becomes involved in events beyond his control. The real horror here is that Shion presents his downfall so intricately that you can understand how such a mild-mannered Mr Nobody could become implicated in such a way: a simple debt of honour becomes the albatross around his neck. Soon, he simply can’t extricate himself from an escalating nightmare without bringing down another nightmare on his own head. In short, despite the Shion ultraviolence, Shamoto could be anyone and just to reinforce that, the film opens by telling us that Cold Fish is based on real-life events.

At the beginning of the film, we see that Shamoto (Mitsuru Kukikoshi) just wants an easy life. Thing is, life’s not all that keen to oblige him. All he wants is to do relatively well with his business (selling tropical fish), and he would like the love and respect of his teenage daughter Mitsuko (Hikari Kajiwara) and his young wife, Taeko (Megumi Kagurazaka). Is that too much for a quiet, respectful citizen to ask? We quickly see just how far away he is from what he’d like: Taeko is bored and miserable, whilst his daughter is a brat. Mitsuko is barely able to tolerate the fact that her father remarried, let alone to a much younger woman, so the pleasant domesticity Shamoto would relish is a charade which barely holds together at the best of times.

When Shamoto receives a phonecall to tell him that his daughter has been caught shoplifting, he’s mortified and heads down there with the girl’s stepmother to apologise profusely (something he spends a great deal of time doing). Just at that moment, the family’s saviour rolls up in the form of the rambunctious and characterful Murata (Denden). Murata happens to be the owner of a huge rival tropical fish store. He convinces the security guard to let Mitsuko off and, better still, he offers to give the girl employment and board at his shop: Mitsuko doesn’t need to be asked twice and, again in pursuit of that quiet life, her father agrees.

It all seems positive enough to start with but, in no time at all, Murata has assumed a dominating, harmful influence in Shamoto and Taeko’s lives. First he insists on social calls, and then via a combination of intimidation and emotional blackmail he browbeats the dutiful Shamoto into becoming his business partner. The better Shamoto comes to know Murata – and his unhinged young wife Aiko (Asuka Kurosawa) – the more he learns that Murata is not to be refused anything, least of all not when he witnesses Murata murder the last guy who dared to do so. He’s also now an accessory. Shamoto has by now lost control over all aspects of his life: his daughter, his wife and his personal autonomy, and he gets dragged further and further into Murata’s volatile world.

From the outset, Cold Fish pulls apart any expectations the audience may have about the villain/hero set-up here. Our main character, Shamoto, is a doormat. You can feel for his plight, but it’s as exasperating as it is touching. Meanwhile, Murata is a stone cold psychopath, but an often funny, charismatic and worldly guy too. This is just a taste of where Shion is going with this: he wants to make you think about who you empathise with and there’s a scene towards the close of the film which made the Dead by Dawn festival audience cheer, despite the content of that scene checking pretty much every box for humour-inappropriateness. This is also testament to the pay-off for our characters which, when it comes, is intense, despite this being a protracted film which could easily have lost twenty minutes without any problem. It manages to stay interesting despite being too long, though: the performances carry it along, and there’s even a demented streak of pathos here.

Cold Fish layers on the violence and the sickly-sexual overtones whilst ultimately presenting us with a bizarre battle of wills. It’ll have you thinking and feeling all manner of things during its (extensive) course, but ultimately its pessimism is its major calling card, with Shamoto as the ill-fated Everyman at the centre of events.

Nia’s Round-up of the Brussels International Fantastic Film Festival

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Report by Nia Edwards-Behi

The Brussels International Fantastic Film Festival, held yearly over a two-week period, guarantees a showcase of the best up-and-coming genre offerings. Although drawing in massive crowds to an impressive venue, the sense of tradition and convention at the festival is evident – watching a film with the BIFFF regulars is a great experience in and of itself, with noisy but appreciative attention paid to each offering by a dedicated audience. Next year’s festival is the 3oth, and I’ve no doubt that it’s this sense of community that keeps the festival thriving. Here’s a really brief round-up of some of the films that were on offer that haven’t yet been reviewed.

Mirages (Talal Selhami, Morocco/France, 2010)
Excellent feature debut from Talal Selhami, which offers an original setting for what could have been a run-of-the-mill psychological thriller. Strong characterisation and performances ensure that this is a very promising debut, even if the ending is a little drawn out. Gladly, the film also refuses to fall into the trap of looking cheap, with an impressive and judicious use of visual effects never truly betraying the film’s low budget.

Midnight Son (Scott Leberecht, USA, 2011)
Superb horror-romance that’s a successor to the likes of Martin and Near Dark, Midnight Son was one of my favourite films of the festival. Telling the tale of a young man with a rare skin disease that requires he work nights to avoid sunlight, his chance meeting and romance with a woman coincides with his increasingly violent behaviour. A film that sounds run-of-the-mill to summarise, the film is tightly plotted, beautifully written and acted earnestly. I truly cared for the characters, and as such Midnight Son is a much needed breath of fresh air for the vampire film.

Kidnapped (Miguel Angel Vivas, Spain, 2010)
A superb genre offering from Spain, Miguel Angel Vivas’ Kidnapped is a visual tour-de-force, offering what could’ve been an average home invasion tale in 12 continuous shots. Utterly nasty and frighteningly realistic, the film never shies away from the brutality and helplessness that acts of violence bring. A highlight of the film is the excellent performance of Manuela Velles as the terrified but desperately defiant teenage daughter of the family under attack. It’s been a long time since a thriller had me so thrilled, Kidnapped is a film to be experienced.

Red Nights (Julien Carbon & Laurent Courtiaud, Hong Kong/France/Belgium, 2010)
This attractive erotic thriller just about manages to hold attention for its full-running time, helped by charismatic leads, even when they’re at their most histrionic. A convoluted and melodramatic plot about an ancient poison that paralyses its victim while increasing their sensitivity, the film is entirely concerned with the sensual, both in narrative and in construction. Featuring a particularly nasty torture scene and an inventive opening 15-minutes, Red Nights is enjoyable hokum.

Urban Explorer (Andy Fetscher, Germany, 2011)
The interesting setting of this otherwise generic survival horror only stays interesting for about 20 minutes. In the underground tunnels of Berlin a group of continental youths meet up with their guide, for some ‘urban exploring’. Things, naturally, soon start to go horribly wrong, but by the time we get to know the villain a little bit the novelty has worn off and the utter insipidness of the supposed ‘heroine’ the film becomes too distracting to bear. Though enjoyable enough, and fairly commendable for its ending, Urban Explorer is ultimately more memorable for its weaknesses than its strengths.

Ferozz: The Wild Red Riding Hood (Jorge Molina, Cuba/Costa Rica, 2010)
Ferozz is a surprisingly captivating film which re-tells the Red Riding Hood story as an erotic coming-of-age tale. At times reminiscent of the Javi Camino’s excellent Maldito Bastardo!, while at other times reminiscent of the worst sort of amateurism, it’s hard to tell if this surrealist film is good, bad, or just plain taking the piss. Containing scenes you won’t soon forget, Ferozz is without a doubt a film that needs to be seen to be believed.

Bestseller (Jeong-ho Lee, South Korea, 2011)
Excellent thriller which is severely let down by being about 30 minutes too long. Even so, it’s hard not to enjoy the film’s twists, and the strong central performance from Uhm Jung-Hwa as a novelist accused of plagiarism whose behaviour becomes increasingly erratic, keeps the most dragged out of plot turns just about entertaining.

Keepsake (Paul Moore, USA, 2008)
The charmless characters and the repetitive ‘plot’ of this film lead to an incredibly dull experience, complete with non-sensical twist. That it’s taken so long to see the light of day might be indicative, as it cynically attempts to be ‘torture porn’ as a means of pandering to an audience. Keepsake is only worth mentioning as a warning to avoid it.

Editor’s note: in case you missed Nia’s earlier BIFFF coverage, check out her reviews of Stake Land, Tetsuo 3: The Bullet Man, Horny House of Horrors & Helldriver.