The Signal - On My Signal, Unleash Hell!

Finding ourselves pretty stumped as to what we should watch, we googled for a list of largely unseen, awesome horror films. We found the The Signal, and it's fair to say that we were ultimately disappointed. I have no doubt that, okay, it was likely to be 'largely unseen', but 'awesome'? To say the label of 'awesome' is generous is a understatement worthy of prosecution. It was largely unseen for a strong reason - its overall averageness. But criticism knows no bounds, so I shall press on regardless to bring you possibly the first negative review of Terror Bites history.

This film is made up of three 'transmissions', each with a different director and very different genre foci. In transmission uno, we get introduced to Mya, who's cheating on her husband Lewis with the surprisingly unattractive Ben. Then all electric appliances begin transmitting a bizarre signal (and guess what - it may even be the very same signal that attracted such a title) which transforms normal people into generally irrational beings with a penchant for slaughter. Mya must escape her apartment before it's all too late. Transmission dos visits a New Year's Eve party hosted by Anna and her husband. Several people drop by, and several are also brutally murdered. This section is largely played for absurd comedy, that is until Lewis drops by convinced Mya is somewhere there. Transmission tres takes itself very seriously indeed, and sees Ben and one of the party attendees (Clark) go to find Mya at the train station. Lewis is there waiting for them with Mya, and we get treated to some psychedelic romantic horror-drama. Mmmm...

I think this project was doomed from the start. So disparate are its parts it ultimately plays out like an anthology, and anyone who has been subjected to one of the godawful ensemble anthologies themed around public holidays (vis New Year's Eve or Valentine's Day) knows that there is a serious lack of character development and coherence. The Signal is no different. It jumps between its elements with little regard for the audience's feelings in the matter. Transmission 1 plays for gore and some thrills, 2 goes for black (very, very black) humour and 3 rounds it out with psychological romantic chills. The different directors bring different skills to the table, and their relative capabilities given the extremely low budget shooting are adequate but just don't really mesh well.

Now onto the cast - they're amateurish in the very sense that they simply aren't professional, but they get the job done. Unfortunately, some felt very unlikeable, like our lead couple Mya and Ben - the latter of whom we're supposed to like despite being a home-wrecker - which is a real shame, as I just never really gave a shit as to what happened to them and their misguided romance. The real stand-out for me was the husband Lewis (A. J. Bowen), who also made an appearance in The House of the Devil. He has the acting chops to pull off a range of the classic rage/jealousy/psychosis emotions and thought processes, but he is such a deep well of humour in the most inappropriate situations (such as murdering a friend's niece) that the film is strengthened by his adroitness when it comes to guilty comedic pleasure. Come to think of it, the second transmission was by far the most impressive acting - Anna, her neighbour Clark and the party guest Jim all nail the fine line between creepy and concerned, with some laugh out loud results.

Those behind the camera do an acceptable job. There are some nice scenes, but there's really nothing in terms of its style that sticks with you long after finishing the movie (aside for an overawing feeling of grungy footage and low budget cameras). Two massive suggestions would have been to cut the opening weirdness (we are met at the door of this opus with a quick snippet of a crappy exploitation and torture flick up until the title screen which goes totally unexplained) and also just remove the partitioning of the film. I appreciate that each director had a different vision and mission, but you can't expect to get away with such blatant emotional manipulation. I think that for the sake of a better film, the helmer of no. 2 should have just taken the reigns of the whole lot and stamped his own brand of absurd humour all over that whole thing, because its fatal mistake was taking itself too seriously in the other sections. On their own, perhaps parts 2 and 3 could have been viable shorts, but when they human centipede the glorious laughs of the middle piece, they look dull in comparison.

Now, the best friend of the masses, child molester and billionaire Albert von Hammerschmidt OBE (just got the OBE recently - make sure you congratulate him when you see him next) will let you know how he felt about The Signal...

Albert von Hammerschmidt OBE's contribution:

Many things in this life come in threes: bad luck, ABC shots, a human centipede and the movie The Signal. By that I mean The Signal has a distinct 3 act structure, with each act done by a different director. This is where my comparison of a human centipede and the movie The Signal ends, as unlike the human centipede the only part in 'The Signal' you want to have anything to do with is the middle piece. The first and third acts are poorly made, boring and I had a complete lack of empathy for any of the characters. However the second act was really quite enjoyable as it took on the tone of an extremely black comedy, which proved very effective. The script in this act is tight and the line delivery suited the tone the writer was going for. If you want my advice, read a brief plot synopsis and watch the second act as a standalone piece. Don't waste your time with act I or III and don't waste your time with sub-standard scotches. Hammerschmidt OBE out.

Judging by von Hammerschmidt's scathing words, it can come as no surprise that I was not pleased on the whole by The Signal. There was potential, sure, but seeing unrealised potential is perhaps more painful than not having it in the first place. I've decided to give The Signal 18 out of a possible 99 marks. If you have half an hour, watch the middle transmission by itself, but overall, the whole package is not really worth witnessing.

Scream - It's, Like, So Meta

To really appreciate Scream, you have to take it in the context it was constructed in - it's the mid-90s, and horror has almost staled through its repetitive reliance on generic tropes and story lines, and there seemed to be little breathing room left in a genre that had all but been exhausted for its fans. Wes Craven's New Nightmare seemed to have been a fluke of fresh air, and times seemed somewhat dire. And then Kevin Williamson wrote Scream, and all our troubles seemed so far away. Here was a collection of characters who inhabit the same universe as we the viewers. They have seen all the horror films we have. They talk about the tropes that they're unknowingly now part of. They are essentially avatars for what our actions would be in a horror movie. And I liked that.

It opens with one of the most daring scenes I've ever encountered at a film's beginning. It's probably not a spoiler to tell you that Drew Barrymore's character gets killed almost immediately - that's right, the biggest name in the cast dies before she's even earned her salary. Her classmates from school are bombarded by the media, and our protagonist Sidney (Neve Campbell) and her various friends and acquaintances are dragged into it all. Then Sidney is attacked by the 'Ghostface Killer' (and yeah, you'll recognise that iconic mask) and all her friends start becoming the targets. Could the killer possibly be a mutual acquaintance? Could it have something to do with the mysterious and slowly revealed pain that Sidney has experienced in her past? And most importantly, why is her boyfriend (Skeet Ulrich) so happy while he's not getting laid? Everyone is a suspect, and everyone is well versed with their horror clichés. Let the party - and the excessive bloodshed - begin.

This comes from one of horror's most notorious bosses: Wes Craven, progenitor of A Nightmare on Elm Street, The Hills Have Eyes, The Last House on the Left and a number of sequels and other horror classics. It's refreshing to see him pull this out of a hat, and I reckon that having such a strong horror mind behind the helm makes all the post-modern deconstruction work that much better. I can't remember where I read the phrase 'if you love something, kill it', but Craven sets to his life's work with relish and a large butcher's cleaver, and the results are very successful. This was actually the first horror I've watched by myself since I began blogging, and yeah, I managed a number of jumps. So all good on the horror front, and it can be largely credited to Mr. Wes' confident management.

Our cast are exceptional. Neve Campbell is complex and tortured as Sidney, and her seriously toxic family issues add a solid layer of characterisation. She handles being terrified well, but she can also pull of the whole strong, independent woman vibe that develops in so many characters who are the last to survive their film's particular spate of deaths. Rose McGowan acquits her role as the best friend well with the right balance of concern and 'maybe she's just acting it up a bit...'. Old Ulrich is equally appropriate as he treads a fine line between murder suspect and soft/tenderest lover, and the other members of the best friendship group that anyone could have get the job done (especially Jamie Kennedy as Randy - what a name... what a top bloke). Rounding out the major players are David Arquette as McGowan's older brother and the local deputy , who boasts an enviably cute repartee with Courtney Cox as the local reporter/minx, who shares a little unfinished business with Sidney.

The back-up are also seriously talented. The shooting from DP Mark Irwin who worked on Cronenberg's early work is nicely noir - and the shadows conceal some scares well. Editor Patrick Lussier keeps it tight, and plays to the expectations of the genre to really highlight the act of quasi-criticism on screen. But the stand out is undoubtedly Marco Beltrami's debut film score, which - while it plays to some horror staples like the crescendoing strings - is truly unique in its overall role for the film. They put out a call for something that felt 'new', 'fresh' and 'wonderful', and they found exactly that. It still manages to feels modern almost two decades on, with lashings of Morricone's influence in amongst choral arrangements and there's a raw energy that throbs underneath throughout. The track Trouble in Woodsboro (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tg8beHZSpqc&feature=plcp) was a particular stand out for me, just in the way it brings up the tension generated in the unfortunate school that appears to have been cursed by some gruesome deaths. I'm actually somewhat surprised that it didn't get an Oscar nod, but Beltrami has landed a couple since then.

AND NOW, FOR SOME TIMELY SPOILERS (AND SERIOUSLY, DON'T READ THESE IF YOU HAVEN'T SEEN THE MOVIE - THE TWIST IS ONE OF THE HIGHLIGHTS). Just a fantastic reveal. Simply superb. I haven't witnessed many slashers to date, so I'm not particularly qualified to make this claim, but this is one of the smartest ideas in the history of watching teenagers getting cut up. Lovely touches set up everyone as a viable suspect (for one, the school principal has the same shoes as the killer), but then - there are two killers! Two! How many? Two. Stu (an excellently mental Matthew Lillard) and Sidney's BF have been collaborating to get up to no good, and it comes so far out of left field that it just works. What's more, Stu's rant about a lack of motive is so deranged that it is properly scary in its own right. The pair's plan is pretty genius (not that I condone making serial murder plans in the slightest), and would've worked too (if it wasn't for those meddling kids...). The twist elevates this film, and it was already pretty damn good. Finally, there is a delightful kill that takes place in a garage - though technically it occurs half in and half out of the garage. It needs to be seen rather than described, so check it out for that moment alone.

To wrap this up, I really liked Scream. Its approach may feel slightly familiar to those of who have seen meta classics like Shaun of the Dead, Tucker & Dale vs Evil, Funny Games or Zombieland, but its a classic for a reason. Context is key, yet it transcends that to still be incredibly relevant and enjoyable today. Scream gets 7 slices of a cake that has been bisected through a centre point fourfold. And yeah, I like cake. So bite me.

Trailer: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=UTWf9QGdJCQ

Eden Lake - Eden It Ain't

Never have I come across a more misleading title. It sounds idyllic and peaceful, perhaps filled with days spent strolling along the shores of said lake and bouncing smooth pebbles across its glassy surface. Instead we get a chav/hoodie torture thriller-cum-horror. False advertising. But that's definitely not a bad thing - the picture in my head was a light rom-com (maybe starring Hugh Grant), and instead we're treated to a taut, grimy social criticism that I'd prefer out of the two 98 times out of 100. Let's get to it...

When Jenny (Kelly Reilly) and her man Steve (the ubiquitous and exceptional Michael Fassbender) go for a romantic weekend away to Eden Lake, it's set to be a couple of days filled with snuggling, snoodling, canoodling, spooning and perhaps a marriage proposal. Instead, they are harassed by some local hoodlums, and Steve doesn't take it lying down. When the ringleader (Jack O'Connell, who looks remarkably like my friend Esteban) takes it personally, they are thrust into a fairly primal fight for survival, and their basic instincts are brought to the surface. I don't want to spoil anything just yet, but it's a weekend that none involved will likely forget.

I loved how enclosed this film was - writer-director James Watkins chose a deliberately small scale horror grounded in believable events and characters. While there are perhaps too few real jump scares (understandable given a premise without ghouls or werewolves and what have you), it stays with you long after you've shut down your laptop and moved off to pester people trying to study. It mines the depths to which people will go when pushed, and the couple's desperation is both justified and eminently relatable.

The leads share strong chemistry, and while their early banter is maybe a little clichéd in its scripting, they look very much like the pair in love. They know each other's flaws and are comfortable with them, and there's a sense of depth to their history usually not granted to people who find themselves in horror films. But the show is very much fingered by the younglings, in particular Jack O'Connell and Finn Atkins (who - despite her name - is a girl). The whole troupe seem so ragged around the edges that their actions are fiercely believable, and pulled in by the magnetism of O'Connell's ferociously dominant Brett, their harrowing descent from aimless kids bunking off and causing mischief to juvenile delinquents torturing strangers is almost unwatchable. There is an overawing sense of commentary here about the state of Britain's youth, but more on that when I feel prepped to hand out some spoilers.

The ensemble behind the camera is peppered with names we've come across before - editor Jon Harris and production designer Simon Bowles from The Descent, David Julyan who marvellously scored The Cabin in the Woods, producer Christian Colson from Slumdog Millionaire, and the director Watkins who co-wrote The Descent Part 2. It's a very solid effort from all involved, particularly the relatively unknown (only when considered in the company of his comrades) Christopher Ross who shot this gloomy and grim cocktail as cinematographer within an inch of its life. The editing from Harris is also a highlight, and his pace and knowledge of horror tropes is matched only by the taut symbolism generated within some of the cuts he manages. Its lack of glamour is a further strength - when people die, bleeding out from box-cutting instrument wounds, they do so in an extremely realistic and matter-of-fact manner. There is no sense of enjoyment garnered from what the audience had inflicted upon them. It's messy but it's real. Also - top marks for the stunt and practical effects teams - it's believable and all the more powerful for it.

AND NOW FOR SOME SPOILERS. CARRY ON AT YOUR OWN PERIL. It's fairly fucked how this number turns out - yeah, our protagonists die, but not before their own values and principles are transformed to the point that you can no longer relate with them as characters. They get stripped of their humanity when Jenny makes her first kill, and though her actions are fairly acceptable, it's damning to see her take a life. Honestly, there's a point at which you as an audience kind of realise that it's weird how vehemently your hoping a group of teens get killed by the characters you know, and it turns from there. When the small boy gets necklaced (a horrific scene - so mind-blowingly messed up), it's no holds barred from there. And the finale - never have I felt so violated at the hands of a generally polite looking British family. It's destructive, potent and crushing - you will not forget it for a while, and the last shot is so cheeky is hurts. Britain's kids must be on another level of hooliganism if this statement was necessary, but totally divorced of the director's feelings, it's still an emotion and a glance (almost breaching 4th wall) that will hold long after the credits have rolled their way up.

And now, our boy Albert von Hammerschmidt returns from the depths of child sex offending to offer us his opinion of Eden Lake.

Albert von Hammerschmidt's contribution:

The set producers of Eden Lake originally contacted me and requested the use of my lake for the filming of the movie. I agreed for a puny sum and they began scouting the area for good locations. Unfortunately they were attacked by a pack of vicious dogs and their remains were never found. Luckily for me I was able to keep the original sum as well as another $500,000 as I sued them for unnecessary blood loss on my property. It's amazing what a good team of QCs can achieve. Hence forth the script was re-written as a large sum of their budget was lost to this lawsuit. What was originally an action-adventure movie starring Johnny Depp, became a chav horror piece that offers an effective degree of chilling realness to the genre. A colleague that I saw this with got angry with me after watching this as he was that deeply disturbed with it. I told him to grow a pair. However this demonstrates the kind of movie this is.

A hearty recommendation (if your into this kind of thing): 4/5

So yeah, well worth catching - not terrifying, but simply dauntingly painful. I'd recommend watching it with friends. For its efforts, I hand it 6 out of 7.2 relay batons, and when I can get an acceptable copy of The Woman In Black, I await viewing Watkins' Take 2 with baited breath. Great job lads and lasses.

Have a go at the trailer: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Z1QaFtd55MI

Also - apologies for my tardiness, but I just completed my uni exams today. I hope to have a new review every day of the next week. College. Peace and love.

The Loved Ones - I'd Hate To See The Unloved Ones

And so we come to our first home-grown, Australian horror film, and I'm so very proud to call this a product of Australian innovation, style and obsession with killing things. Kylie Minogue and Dame Edna must be over the moon. This comes from a particular sub-genre of prom related horror flicks, but it is truly original in its premise and carves itself (very intentional wording...) a niche in the market that is wholly its own. If you think you remember your prom as being pretty crap, you got off very lightly. Very, very lightly indeed.

Brent (Xavier Samuel) is driving his Dad home one afternoon when all of a sudden he takes a tree head on and loses magnificently. We cut to six months later to find him still mourning his Dad's death and narrowly avoided necking himself due to the guilt through the love of his girlfriend Holly (Victoria Thaine). Lola (Robin McLeavy) asks him to the formal, but - nawww - he's already committed to Holly. So naturally, Lola's loving father (John Brumpton) kidnaps Brent on the big night and together, he and Lola ensure that it's a night of good old-fashioned domestic abuse that Brent will never forget. Meanwhile, Holly, Brent's Mum and local copper Paul race to find him, but will their efforts be enough to save this particular loved one?

It's a very solid slab of torture porn - not quite as gratuitous as Inside or as wanton as the Saw franchise, but it's torture porn all the same. In this case, I'm not a big fan of this label because it doesn't do this number justice - it's an intense horror, absurd comedy and romantic family drama all at the same time. It's the work of Sean Byrne, an Aussie from Victoria who's dabbled in advertisements and the like. His short film Advantage, Satan can be found on YouTube and is well worth catching if you're up for a cheeky laugh after wetting yourself (I first saw it late night on SBS and had to change channels - watch it alone and in the dark as God intended). With its release in the US at the moment, I have no doubt that Byrne is in for a solid career, and let's hope we'll see him back in this blog with another genre piece in the next few years.

Now the cast are very solid. Brent is set up as a character that you want to survive through his depression, and throwing him in front of the torture-train just adds to the emotional investment you end up establishing. Samuel plays him very well, and the young man can manage the torture face along with the best of them, and perhaps even more importantly, the face of utter defeat. But McLeavy and Brumpton are on a whole 'nother level - just absolutely, fundamentally deranged. There's a palpable father-daughter bond that veers unnervingly close to being reverse-Oedipal, and their glee through the whole process is played so morbidly straight that you just can't look away from the snap, crackle and pop blazing up on screen. The supporting players are all very solid, with a stand-out performance from Richard Wilson as Brent's best mate who enjoys the night of his life with the girl of his dreams. The continual juxtaposition of Brent's evening with his mate's provides great humour and surprising pathos for both parties as things don't always turn out as you'd hoped.

But that whole juxtaposition spiel brings me to talk about this flick's style, and by Jove, it exudes the stuff. It's got a kind of glam rock feel to it from the opening title and the excessive application of glitter, to the music choices and the persistence of that damn disco ball. The pacing is aggressive and the camera-work matches it with some disconcerting angles that ramp up the whole torture feel with a level of discomfort. The editing is also partly to take credit for the freshness of this piece, with cuts that hold just a second too long in moments when you wish this was an M-rated date night movie - but no, you get to watch every icky second because you're a grown up. And perhaps the most impressive thing is the transformation of Kasey Chambers' 'Not Pretty Enough' from a moving ballad of self-loathing and pity to a creepy anthem proclaiming ostracism and even promoting sadism. Experimental musician Ollie Olsen's score rounds out the background players with throbbing hooks and a grungy non-diegetic bass note that just take the squirm factor and advance it a few inches higher up your spine.

AND NOW, FOR THE SPOILERS YOU'VE ALL BEEN WAITING FOR - A DISCUSSION OF PLOT! To call it inventive wouldn't quite do it justice. The torture is just exquisite, and the brainwave of injecting Drano into his throat to nullify cries for help removes all that repetitive screaming which seems to dominate contemporary horror. In no particular order, poor old Brent has his chest lovingly sculpted with a fork and salt throw in the wounds, his feet pinned to the floor with knives, he gets bludgeoned with a rock whilst up a tree and his subsequent fall is brutally cut short by Daddy's car bonnet, his skull is penetrated by a drill with gruesome realism and he gets thrown into a dungeon with the other 'Loved Ones' - a collection of Lola's schoolmates on whom she had oddly obsessive crushes. The pity you feel for Brent and his now mindless peers (thanks to the boiling water Daddy managed to pour in through their forehead access holes) is overwhelming, and when Brent is cornered and essentially forced to put them out of their misery, you can't help but deeply, passionately hate Lola and her old man. Which totally justifies their respective fates. Last thing I'll add is that the plotting had so many cute tie-ins with the small-town relationships vibe - turns out Lola and old mate inadvertently killed Brent's Dad, and Paul's son was another victim. It may be worked out too neatly in this respect, but I appreciated the self-contained nature of the narrative.

And now, without further ado, the inputs of Albert von Hammerschmidt (NB: he's reminded me to tell you it's pronounced Al-bear) and Susan the loquacious.


Albert von Hammerschmidt's contribution (Transcribed by my newly bought hired Loved Ones lighting engineer #2):
Guten Tag from your favourite sexual offender! I recently hired the entire cast and crew from the 'Loved Ones' to re-enact the movie in my private theatre scene for scene, so I believe that makes me fairly worthy to review this film. I was very impressed with the actors' and actresses' abilities to read and communicate with each other, even with their disability of being part of the spawn of Australian convicts. The make-up was very effective and the dungeon that features in the film bears a striking resemblance to my servant dungeon in Vienna (although, admittedly theirs was much better lit than mine). There was well placed and much appreciated comic relief in the film that I enjoyed so much I offered the fat one a well paying job as my jester. Needless to say he is now experiencing the true meaning of darkness in the aforementioned dungeon, which unfortunately makes him a lot less funny. On the plus side he isn't as fat now due to the brisk Viennese air, and malnutrition in the dungeon.

A hearty recommendation: 4 thinning jesters out of 5.


Susan's contribution (I swear she gets more intelligent every time I talk to her):

fukin awesome dude. susan out. 

All things considered, a bravura effort for a first-timer - bold, creative, cool and totally mental. Australian cinema hasn't been this shaken up since Wolf Creek, and it's a crying shame that this polished effort didn't make much of a splash at the box office. I offer it a score of 8.6 out of a number somewhat larger than 8.6, and I cannot wait for Byrne's sophomore film. Please let it be a horror.


Enjoy a sample with the American release trailer (they do promotion a whole lot better than we on this massive island of convicts): http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Q431DIGOue8

The Cabin In The Woods - See It. Right Now.

I normally upload reviews in the order that they're viewed, and I don't really want to break that pattern. However, I must bend the rules to insert this little notice and bring to your attention the marvel that is The Cabin In The Woods. It is hands down the best horror I have yet seen on my journey, and one of the best comedies I have ever seen in my life. It was to be relegated to a direct-to-DVD fate in Australia but myself and a number of like-minded genii blew up on the Australian distributor's page and it was given a very limited release - high five for aggressive petitioning!

Anyway, go see it at the Chauvel Cinema in Paddington (check this website for details: http://www.palacecinemas.com.au/movies/thecabininthewoods/) and you will not regret your decision in the slightest. Support horror, support producer/co-writer Joss Whedon (writer-director of The Avengers) and director/co-writer Drew Goddard (writer of Cloverfield), support Chris Hemsworth (Aussie export and Thor) and support this impeccable piece of cinema - do your bit and catch it at the Chauvel.

And as a special treat, here is a photo of some members of our Horror Club venturing out to see it last night - and we look damn good...

Stay tuned for the full review of our very first movie outing which should drop in about a fortnight. You stay classy, ladies and gentlemen.

Frailty - I Have A Dream

Apologies for the lateness on this bad girl, but my collaborators are less than stellar when it comes to being timely. Now, this movie came very highly recommended as a horror gem, so it was tough to be unimpressed. However I managed it like the champion I am. I did not find it scary in the slightest. But what constitutes a horror film? Is it that the movie scares the pants off you, or is it literally a portrayal of horrific events? Because while there were no moments of true fear, the plot's crux is a real cocktail of childhood trauma and mentally deranged fathers, which I suppose must lend this movie the label of horrific, and by extension, the claim of being a horror film at its core.

The film starts with Matthew McConaughey going into the office of an FBI agent and beginning to tell his life story due to its prevalence to a current killing spree of a murderer known as 'God's Hand'. He tells Agent Doyle it must be his brother Adam who committed suicide very recently. Doyle begs for elaboration so he spins him a yarn about his boyhood with his widowed father, who one day had a sleeping visitation from an angel tasking him with rooting out/destroying demons. He acquires special gloves, a pipe for rendering demons unconscious and an axe for 'delivering justice' (though free of Head and Shoulders this time... College joke - loose). The axe is called Otis. Hells yeah. Young Matthew questions his father's sanity, but Adam accepts it, and the story slowly unravels as Matthew Jr. tries harder and harder to thwart Pop's actions and Adam embraces them. He continues telling the story as Agent Doyle drives him to where he claimed to have buried his deceased, murderous brother, and events take a turn for the unexpected.

This was brought to us by Bill Paxton in his directorial debut and he also starred as the deluded father. The cast are uniformly very fine. Paxton has an air of menace tinged with forthright conviction that tips him just far enough to allow the audience to appreciate his balancing act on the precipice of sanity. He imbues every act with a bizarre sincerity that - while less sadistic and torturous to watch - generates an aura of unease. I'm a big fan of Mr. McConaughey, and this is further evidence to support his movement away from schmaltzy rom-coms that he has continued with Jeff Nichols' Mud at Cannes this year. He's very soft-spoken, and presents a broken soul at first in line with his demoralising parental influence, but his soft tone becomes more cobra-like as the twists begin to come to light throughout the ending. Bravo to him. The contemporary timeline is rounded out by Powers Boothe (seriously? what a name!) as Agent Doyle, who follows a similarly effective arc throughout the developments in the tale, and  portrays a damn good listener without trying to steal anyone else's thunder. Finally, the two young boys playing the sons growing up together are remarkably nuanced for their age, and their conflicted takes of their father's claim interact brilliantly on screen.

The production design is pretty solid. You really feel this sense of the small American town in Texas where everyone is probably inbred and financially comfortable enough in life to just get by. Their family house shows signs of love throughout, and their back shed - eventually kitted out to be the ultimate in demon killing chambers - is pretty atmospheric. The music, editing and cinematography didn't particularly stand out as highlights or let downs, but with a first-time director, I have some suspicions that their vision would have been greatly helpful in piecing together this debut. Paxton has definitely stretched himself as an actor and craftsman here, and in his entirely uncompromised vision he has succeeded in pushing his boundaries.

The plot is quite interesting in its denouement - so interesting in fact that it's almost a cop out. SPOILERS AHEAD - KILL THEM WITH FIRE AND SKIP THIS PARAGRAPH. It turns out that old mate Matthew isn't the son called Fenton (who was the Doubting Thomas) - he's Adam (the blind believer). And he may in fact have special powers (contrary to any logic developed in the viewer by watching the goings-on through the sceptical lens of Fenton) which are revealed when he kills the Agent for the demonic murder of his elderly mother (matricidal prick...). While it is pretty confusing at first (Gotcha! You thought I was that guy who was pretty logical, but I'm actually this guy who is kinda batshit!), it makes sense for his 'mission from God' to kill the evil FBI Agent. When his being touched by some kind of force is confirmed by the revelation that Adam has been entirely erased from the FBI surveillance tapes and that he can tell people's character through touch (Frailty boasts a lovely closing quote), it generates an entirely new take on the plot of the film up to that point, and the reversal is overwhelmingly clever.

Now our mutual friend Albert von Hammerschmidt has joined us once more to convey his over-privileged childhood through his critical view of Paxton's film.

Albert von Hammerschmidt's contribution (transcribed by small Tahitian boy #13):

A hoy hoy, Hammerschmidt here again, doing my weekly sexual offenders community service! I have again been mixing with lesser classes, watching the movie Frailty. First of all Matthew's southern drawl is about as unrefined as a Jameson’s number two that's only been aged for a measly 20 years. Disgusting! The child actors were hopeless and really only have a future in toothpaste commercials. I fell asleep 4 times in this film and still understood what was happening - that is how simple the script was. The writer should be stripped of all pens, laptop computers, typewriters and clothes and be exiled into writing the memoirs of smelly homeless people. The twist was poor (much like you my dear readers) and was left feeling unfulfilled by a film that could have been so much more. One and a half smelly homeless memoir writers out of 5 (for this rating I intend to actually cut a smelly homeless memoir writer in half... Or perhaps use a dwarf). Albert von Hammerschmidt out.

Look, it's a good movie in my opinion. It really is an understated, small-scale, thought provoking film which toys with our expectations of story telling and perception. But it's just not that scary - as I said before, horrific but not frightening. Is this so bad? Some horror fans will disagree but I didn't mind too much. I have thus bequeathed it 34 cubed metres of my dungeon (which measures a spacious 2 by 4 by 6 metres), and I sincerely hope that Matthew McConaughey's Killer Joe is marketed as a horror film because I want any excuse to watch him in this kind of role again for this blog. Take care readers.

Enjoy yo'self some trailer: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mW6TlPMHXgk

[●REC] - A Spanish Omelette

When compared to the French (see the review for Inside), the Spanish as a people are very likable (ignoring of course that most races compare favourably when up against the French). They do things like grow moustaches, eat tapas, hibernate regularly during the afternoon and launch Armadas against the English. They appear to be quite relaxed on the whole. And then they went and constructed this film. And what a way to blow any preconceived notion of a chilled out nation so far out of the water it's in danger of entering orbit. [●REC] is close to the scariest film yet reviewed in this blog, and from all reports it's the most successful implementation of the shaky-cam approach to film-making since The Blair Witch Project blew low-budget horror's mind.

Late night TV reporter Angela and her cameraman Pablo are attached to one of Barcelona's fire stations for an evening. The unit is called to a house where an old woman is seemingly loudly suffering in her apartment and they're needed to bust the door down. The woman is found covered in blood and one of the cops there with them gets mugged off and bit  by the old biddy. They bail downstairs to get him medical help to find that the building has been sealed off for an infection scare after a resident's dog goes mental at the vet's. They realise that they can't get out, and when a fireman learns briefly and tragically that he cannot in fact fly having remained with the old woman, a few of them return upstairs to visit the septuagenarian. As is customary in these films, shit gets real. And undead. All the residents get toey as all hell and it turns into a race against time to get the hell out of there before the infection takes everyone.

Now this film is entirely shot on Pablo's camera, which limits what you can see in the film to a brilliant extent. In a legit cinematic opus, it would be almost cheating to have scares creep up out of frame then nobble the camera from the flank, because the camera's not supposed to be part of the action (unless we're in a tacky POV mode). But when you know that the camera is being held by a character, there are no rules like this - you see what the characters see, and it's just as scary knowing that there could be something behind you or out of shot as it is seeing a zombified old lady on screen. The camera quality is late night TV sufficient, so there's never a sense of missing out, and the fact that the film's cinematographer Pablo Rosso acted as the cameraman means that its steady enough to show us the things the film-makers want us to see. The co-writers and co-directors Jaume Balagueró and Paco Plaza are a phenomenal combination. Their treatment of the action is fresh and unexpected, there are twists and turns as what characters in the film actually know is revealed, and it is a great example of a movie that boils up to fever pitch then maintains a sense of utter terror for the last ten (or thereabouts) minutes. It could excellently exemplify exactly how to achieve a slow burn right - there's nothing to it for almost half an hour, then it achieves a status of mildly creepy once the apartment is broken into, but once the little girl with 'tonsillitis' goes AWOL it gets moderately batshit, and just when you thought it couldn't get any better it ramps it up to 'a sack full of rats on acid' insane when almost everyone in the whole fucking joint is infected.

The cast is highly believable for what they're portraying - normal people caught in a shitstorm where nothing makes any sense to a logical mind. Their desperation and confusion are especially well-played, and it's surprisingly believable as simply a legit found footage film. Acts of valour and sacrifice occur with perhaps unnatural regularity, but it's unsettling (in an entirely appropriate manner) that you never get the chance to mourn because it degenerates into such a kinetic thrill ride that you quickly move on. There's no non-diegetic sound, which means you're treated to long, god-awful patches of silence (when there's no one screaming...) which are broken sparingly to great effect with the stumbling of zombies or the cries of yet another victim.

And the ending, oh the ending... WARNING - SPOILERS MAY BE CLOSER THAN THEY APPEAR. Trapped in the attic by a horde outside, Angela and Pablo are in darkness, seeing only what they light on the camera/night vision mode will allow them. And what they see is not pretty. Turns out the apartment is a Vatican science lab and the infection has some element of demonic possession to it. What's more, the little girl in whom the infection began decades ago is now an emaciated woman lurching about the attic. She is possibly the most haunting thing I have yet seen in my 18 years - just absolutely balls to the wall scary. This last five minutes is spent tensing yourself so hard you may have trouble going to the bathroom afterwards. And again, the last shot is just black-hearted (which prick can I blame for the lack of hope in horror endings?), and the final voice over is a wonderful summation of the whole flick's thematic tensions of perspective and committed journalism.

And now, the moment you've all been waiting for, the return of DJ Cheeky Wingz to triumphant form (Feat. the ever eloquent Susan).

 DJ Cheeky Wingz's input:
Robyn Joffreys latest Portugese love story could be likened to Roald Dhal's thriller The Witches in that this movie revolves around the central plot which is really quite good. The main character who is French himself doesn't realise that she is being filmed the entire movie having the effect that a few times a giant inflamed woman with no abdomen and really long thin fingers appears on the screen in front of you and you can't help but stare right back at her as she screams into your face. Sometimes I thought I was fighting a war. Perhaps this movie would be good? But who are we to judge our friends. Maybe we could all go together and serve it in front of everybody. For this movie's efforts in removing the skin from underneath my fingernails I award it an unborn chicken foetus.


Susan's input:
recless woooo

Watch it. Just watch it and weep. An all-round stunning ensemble effort which for me redefines how you can build effective scares. It's a change from the tripod cam of Paranormal Activity and the car-sickness cam of The Blair Witch Project, and it nails this middle ground perfectly. I offer it a most humble 18 standards out of a 700mL bottle of Smirnoff Vodders (cheers Dan Murphy), and I cannot quantify into a similar measurement just how wet I am for [●REC]2: The Squeakquel.

Get your head around the trailer: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=YQUkX_XowqI

The Thing - Ain't Nothing But A Thang, Gurl

My use of the colloquial term 'Gurl' in the title here was purely designed for irony - this film is populated entirely by men. And I feel further that it would be best enjoyed by a male audience. This isn't sexist, this is logical - it's pretty violent, pretty macho (bravado overcomes logic every time) and pretty gross. So when I say that those of the female persuasion should remain clear, I'm not just trying to hog what's now recognised as a horror classic all to our sex, I'm simply trying to relieve the 'gurls' of any potential suffering. Good bloke, aye...

Can I just quickly say - the tagline on the above artwork is simply gorgeous, despite being entirely erroneous in its claim. 'Man is the warmest place to hide'. Spooky and  laden with thematic forewarning... But the warmest? How about a fire? An oven? A microwave? A radiator? A hair straightener? Soup? Inside a pile of furs? Any warm-blooded animal? But I pick fights over nought- 'tis immaterial to the bad-assness of this poster design.

Now I have to say that this film wasn't great. I felt as though it sacrificed scares on the altar of effects driven artistry. There is much to respect here, and also some to marvel at, but not much to enjoy. John Carpenter is one of the uber-bosses of terror, but I felt left down by my first sampling of his cuisine. I have great optimism for his other works when I encounter them, and I'd bet that this may be simply a rare misstep in a stellar career. Maybe it's because he simply directed this one considering that he usually also writes, produces and scores his flicks, but there was just something here that didn't add up to the expected total. 

But the practical effects are sublime. I'm genuinely confused as to how many of these effects were created, and knowing that this was constructed in era prior to effective computer generated imagery, I'm so astounded by their finished product. The creations are ferociously organic looking and positively glisten with alien effusions, their movement is creepily arachnid-like and marked by ungainly scuttling, the revulsion they evoke is genuinely stomach churning and they're properly sick (as in mildly twisted and gross). I have no doubt that this would have absolutely blown minds back in the day, and I maintain that Rob Bottin and his crew (with a cameo helping hand from Stan Winston) did enough to ensure that The Thing still has the power to do so on a technical level. The others working behind the scenes on this number are also fine - Ennio Morricone's score is throbbing and effective, though not quite up to his usual suspenseful masterpieces that elevated spaghetti westerns to an artwork in their own right. The cinematography was acceptable, though not a particular stand-out until the closing scenes developed a darkly shaded setting that allowed the development of greater uncertainty. That said though, the use of blue to light many of the outdoor scenes was a great choice, as the orange flames roaring over crackling bodies (after all, we all know a good scorching is the only way to effectively nullify any chance of alien rebirth) is a marvellously handsome contrast.

There were three scenes that really stood out for me... The opening vistas watching a helicopter chase and fail to bring down a friendly canine are so confusing and nonsensical to the audience that it evokes strong interest as to the proceedings. If you have a gist of the plot (as I've given you), you may catch on, and it's quite a pleasant puzzle in that sense. Good stuff. HEREAFTER BE SPOILERS - READ AT YOUR OWN RISK OF DISAPPOINTMENT. The blood test scene is a firework of tension. There's nothing too magical in its construction, but the scripting and central idea behind the film can take credit for the feel of foreboding. Not knowing is always better than conviction, and this brilliantly mines that human distaste for being uninformed and cranks it up straight to 11. And finally the ending - probably a highlight that elevates this film. It embraces this overwhelming sense of nihilism, and with Kurt Russell facing off with Keith David (the cast are generally solid by the by), their resolution to acknowledge the futility of doing anything drastic is such a coldly emotive conclusion. It's intelligent given that the themes of this film are a wild uncertainty and interpersonal tensions.

Old mate Bevan from Paul's will now offer a pompous take on the materials (as the Paulines are wont to do). I apologise in advance for his words.

Bevan from Paul's' contribution:
I must confess to having a pretty blinkered attitude towards horror movies: If a character is a liability (You know the kind of person I am talking about) death is what they deserve. For if we as an armchair participant can make better decisions than the protagonists (i.e. don’t go into that cellar, open that door etc.) the film fails as a horror. In this respect Kurt “nerves of steel” Russell and Co. are a satisfactory line-up against a threatening opponent - and Carpenter masterfully mind-diddles us into becoming gormless and tense participants in the game of guess who. Yet the limitations of the movie’s budget mean that at the crescendo we do not experience trouser browning shock but more a sense comic relief, thanks to the Wallace and Gromitesque effects on show. So while the thing may succeed in spinning a tight and tense yarn it lacks the polish that gives a film critical mass to move from clenched sphincter to rip-snorting horror flick.

So to wrap this up, if I had 5 objects of an assorted constituency, I would offer this film 3 of them (though perhaps not the 3 best items). It lacks the level of horror that I required for this blog to truly be converted to Carpentariansim. However, it excels in the individual pieces that make up the finished product. So ultimately, it proves the worst adage ever constructed purely in order to give underdogs some modicum of hope - 'a champion team beats a team of champions'. Amen.

Trailer: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5ftmr17M-a4

Inside - Yukky

This provides a very strong argument for never liking French people. Add to the fact that they made this movie that they also wear berets and no one knows how many French soldiers it would take to defend Paris because it's never been tried, and you have yourself quite a despicable race of continental Europeans. But this is not because the film is a bad one. It's because it's just so damn icky... But more on the gore later - the official cover below should give you some ideas as to what I'm talking about.

Ever wanted to see the inside of a human lady? Well here's your chance! When expectant mother Sarah (Alysson Paradis) loses her hubby in a vehicular mishap, she is understandably shaken and kinda depressed. She retreats into her photography, and then the night comes around when she's due to be induced the next morning. She's lounging round the house when all of a sudden, a mysterious woman (Beatrice Dalle) starts creeping around the place, asking to be let in then being very spooky outside when her unreasonable request is denied. Sarah calls the cops, they come, case the joint for perps and finding none, they send her to bed. But then the woman appears inside, and it turns out she wants the unborn child, and she wants it badly. Armed with what are probably quite unhygienic scissors, the motherly psycho sets about getting what she thinks is hers in a very direct manner. More visitors arrive at varying points to complicate matters, and it gets very complicated. Very much complicated indeed sir.

Oh, the gore. The gore! Wowsers. It's plentiful and it looks damn real. Here's a list of things that occur, in roughly chronological order just to give you an idea (AVOID THIS LIST PERHAPS IF SPOILERS AREN'T YOUR THING):
- a dame has her face slashed and her belly button pierced (and not in an aesthetic way)
- another dame has her jugular punctured and bleeds like a school bubbler
- some bird has her hand fixed to the wall with the aforementioned scissors
- a dude misplaces half his face when hit with speeding lead
- a cop gets shot in the face with a riot gun at point blank range
- yet another lass has her head set on fire
- a self-administered tracheotomy goes down
- a vindictive blow to the preggers belly and an ensuing scarlet rainfall
- an impromptu Caesarean is performed -  very, very graphically
Whoever worked on the special effects in regards to the gore is a seriously gifted/twisted individual. I offer them two pieces of advice - go to Hollywood, because there are accolades awaiting your collection, and go to an institution, because you require serious help. But I'll get back to the gore.

This is a film that can very much be divided into distinct pieces. There's the initial build up of terror and fear, which is pitch black in tone. Then, once the first blood is drawn (excluding the opening accident), there's the devolution into a vicious torture porn with no pity and more intelligence than your regular slasher. The first half is phenomenal in its pacing. The fear just creeps up on you, much like a guy creeps up on his prey after a night out and he's appropriately administered some Rohypnol. There's one brilliant shot where there is literally just a shadow behind our leading lady, and I'm still unsure whether there was anything in it, but it was just so simple and tense that it was burnt into my memory of the film. The figure at the window is a moment constructed perfectly - the blinding flashes develop an afterglow leaving you unable to see out of the window and the paranoia intensifies - has the figure moved? are they about to bust in? do I actually want them to have moved because it's probably less creepy than just standing there? The clicking of the lens punctuates the scene beautifully, and the development of the photos produced in her dark room is a gloomy noir reveal that revels in the gloriously lit cupboard setting.

Then comes the second part. Which is just messy, in so many damn ways. The gore is exquisite. It looks insanely believable, and while it is very much over the top, there's something about it that is weirdly understated in that it's not the whole story - it's just a very convincing supporting character. In this section, Inside boasts a superb soundscape - it's eerie and metallic and grating in equal measure, and in one moment where the editing takes a crash-course in choppy smash cuts to imitate dazing there's this background sound that sounds like someone sharpening a blade with steel wool (perhaps whilst on crystal meth), and it's just fabulously unsettling. The development of the characters in this section is palpable and nicely qualified to justify their actions. In this sense, the cast is uniformly fine, and despite my watching a copy dubbed into English which removes something of the appreciation of their performances, I felt justifiably protective of Sarah and her foetus even though she acts like a bit of a prick to everyone following the accident. This second half ends with a nod back to the dark soul of the first half, and with no hope left at the end (this appears to be a noteworthy trend in horror films), there is definitely a sense of closure merely in the sense that a cycle has been completed. Trust me - no other sense of closure is even hinted at.

Considering the thematic elements of motherhood and femininity (in a round about way), it's quasi-appropriate that we have our very first female contributor - Susan - offering her individual take (and no jest, her catch phrase when watching this film  which also inspired this review's title was uttered no less than two dozen times - and that's a conservative estimate).

Susan's contribution:
YUCKY. Susan out.

While a critic from BloodyDisgusting.com labelled it 'one of the scariest movies I have ever seen in my life', it ultimately isn't that scary. It's creepier than attending any nightspot on an evening of the week widely acknowledged as MILF night, and the gore is better than winning two free Mars Bars in a row in their current '1 in 6 wins' promotion, but the atmosphere dissipates in the film's course. I have opted to graciously grant Inside 5 metres out of a male human's average small intestine length (apparently about 6.9 metres, though I've never seen one myself). There are rumours of a remake of this film, and while I am hesitant when it comes to violating creativity, I am hopeful as there is much many directors can hope to emulate here.

'Eck out the trailer here: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=oGeV7ejT74Y