Friday, February 10, 2012

New DR Review: 'Descendents'

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Evening, cretins!

The world is once again overrun with the undead, this time ghouls harboring a particular aversion to the young and defenseless in my latest review for Digital Retribution. Originating from the genre-lite country of Chile, micro-budgeter Descendents is high on ambition and even greater in heart; two things many contemporary horror films lack. But is it all roses and cherries?

CLICK HERE to find out more!

Friday, January 27, 2012

Short Review: 'Tony' (2009)

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It would appear there is something profoundly attractive to many filmmakers with regard to true crime incidents. As we all know, the media often serves as a significant point of inspiration for many creative minds, particularly when a sensationalistic story infiltrates the public zeitgeist and becomes something more than just a series of attention-grabbing headlines. Consequently, much like a fictionalized novel has the ability to inspire faithful artistic adaption, unlawful acts committed by human beings in reality continue to bestow an inherent allure for those looking to manifest them in narrative storytelling.

While a definite point of contention for conservative minds, nowhere can this practice be better observed than in the serial killer film. Morally precarious, dramatically risky and often downright dangerous, these notoriously niche films have simultaneously provided movie goers with undeniable classics (eg, Silence of the Lambs, Se7en, Zodiac, etc) as well as positively horrific bombs (anything directed by Ulli Lommel) and strangely remain one of cinema’s most profitable sub-genres to this day. In many ways comparable to the crimes of Dennis Nilsen, serial slayer biopic Tony depicts a life gone horribly awry in a small London suburb and a search for meaning and hope in the face of disillusion.

Tony (Peter Ferdinando) is a loner, a social outcast living on the fringes of human association. He lives by himself in a dingy apartment block located in an underprivileged suburb of London, riddled with crime and unsavory types wandering the streets at all hours. Unemployable and introverted to the extreme, he spends his time mulling over action films from the 1980s on VHS and spooling through pornography in the hope of filling some undefined void. Despite his best efforts to connect with the outside world, he continually winds up being the talking point of ridicule and is often ignored by almost everyone around him, including members of the same sex. However, unbeknownst to many, Tony possesses an inherent penchant for violence and moonlights as a serial killer, luring his victims under false pretenses of socialization before snuffing them out either with an electric cord, a bed pillow or a rusty hammer.

There is no discernible story or act structure embedded within Tony, as the film functions more as a temporary insight into the habitual activities of a methodical killer and the results endured upon those who fall by his hand. First time director Gerard Johnson is careful to keep the viewer at a consistent arm’s length from the films' central character, allowing for an interesting torment of moralistic identification to emerge and brew throughout the proceedings. Are we meant to sympathize with Tony? Is he a product of a failed society or simply a monster by birth? Ambiguities with regard to Tony’s past – more specifically his upbringing - are intentionally withheld in order to further obscure the psychological mysteries lurking beneath the madness, thus painting a more complex portrait of a deteriorating mind. Needless to say, lead actor Peter Ferdinando is exceptional in the title role.

And it is precisely this steadfast refusal to provide easy answers that makes Tony the powerful film it is. Johnson could have easily taken the convenient rout and populated the film with characters quick to pass judgement upon Tony but instead the beautifully nuanced performances from the supporting cast are kept as objective as possible. From Tony’s employment officer and television license inspector to the prostitutes and porno shop clerks he encounters, every external character serves a specific dramatic purpose with regard to his interaction (or lack thereof) with the world around him, the landscape of which is hopelessly nihilistic and unrelentingly grim.

It also must be said that films like Tony certainly aren’t for everyone, much less those quick to condemn films’ that deal in such subject matter. Many filmmakers tend to pigeonhole real life criminals into a confined demographic of social exile perpetuated by obscurity when professional investigation continues to reveal a reality more tragic and sad than anything out of a murder mystery novel. WARNING: you may be repelled by this film but you may also be endlessly intrigued…and disturbed.

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Dir: Gerard Johnson
Writer:
Gerard Johnson
Cast: Peter Ferdinando, Frank Boyce, Lorenzo Camporese, Cyrus Desir
Country: UK
Run Time: 72mins
Rating: MA15+

Wednesday, January 25, 2012

New DR Review: 'The Secret Life: Jeffrey Dahmer'

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Morning, cretins!

The horrors of real life receive a closer inspection in my latest review for Digital Retribution. Made for the price of a rice crispy treat, little known TV film The Secret Life: Jeffrey Dahmer is one of the most unique introspectives into the mind of a serial killer you're ever likely to see, not to mention one of the most unrelentingly grim.

They don't make em' like this bad boy anymore.

CLICK HERE to read the write up.

Wednesday, January 18, 2012

Short Review: 'Road Train' (2010)

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There have been several Australian genre films made over the years that have depicted the country as a place to fear. Whether it be the camping grounds and oceans of Long Weekend, the barren landscapes of the Northern Territory in Wolf Creek or the secluded mangrove seas of small town villages in Black Water, there has scarcely been a single aspect of the continent’s renowned environment left unscathed and/or unexploited for the worst possible reasons. Either there are more cynical local screenwriters out there than we think or Australia really is the land of the damned.

One avenue of the country’s backdrop to be recently revisited (taking into account Richard Franklin’s Road Games from 1981) is the wide-open highway and its endless milieu of desolate wilderness. Fusing elements of the former, Spielberg’s Duel and even The Twilight Zone this modestly budgeted debut from young filmmaker Dean Francis has all the right talent in place and yet somehow fumbles the ball in almost every way imaginable until its guts are literally strewn across the highway.

Traveling cross country for a camping trip are four twenty-somethings: Craig (Bob Morely), Liz (Georgina Haig), Marcus (Xavier Samuel) and Nina (Sophie Lowe), all of whom share an awkward truth of infidelity among one other but have nonetheless managed to remain friends. During their trek across the deserts of the outback they come into contact with a rather hostile operator of a semi-trailer (or “road train” to those hip folks out there) who in turn inspires Craig to recklessly pursue the vehicle, resulting in the group crashing their car off the side of the road. With their Jeep a total write off and no help in sight the group attempt to find salvation, that is until the road train itself continues toying with the youths, luring them under its powers with a mysterious mystical attraction that begins permeating not only their rationalism but also their sanity...

The first thing you’re bound to notice about Road Train is its impressively handsome visuals. Regardless of budgetary constraints, few Aussie genre films put in the time and effort to look good, however Francis and cinematographer Carl Robertson completely re-write the book in this regard by making every frame of the movie count. Be it scenes of action, quieter character moments or simply the capturing of featured landscapes, the film never fails to lose grip of its hawk eye composure.

Unfortunately, almost everything else about Road Train from here on out is beyond the pale of watchable (believe me, I wish that were an exaggeration). After the first fifteen minutes have elapsed and the youths have begun their desperate search for help, screenwriter Clive Hopkins wastes no time shoehorning in so many unnecessarily convoluted plot developments and absurd story tangents that the movie immediately loses all sense of direction and focus, making viewer compliance nigh impossible. Furthermore, not one character makes a decision that would fall under the umbrella of common sense, nor do they at any time appear to have any idea as to what the hell is going on around them – much like the viewer! – therefore one’s willingness to empathize with their plight never comes into consideration for a second.

Are we meant to be so confused? Is the trajectory of bizarre events intended to boggle the mind into complete disorientation? Granted, this is a supernatural horror film but robbing your audience of any and all narrative comprehension – a basic requirement of any storytelling – is a fatal move at best.

Stupefaction of Road Train is further intensified through several instances of stilted, embarrassing performances, the majority of which never feel confident enough to ground the film in any semblance of reality. With the exception of Xavier Samuel the rest of the supports spend much of their screen time stumbling around in a haze, only occasionally delivering the goods during moments of extreme duress. Moreover, by the time the final act comes rolling in and character’s lives are that their most vulnerable the movie has already alienated its audience so much for the conclusion to have any impact at all.

Perhaps the biggest culprit behind the ultimate failure of Road Train is its insistence in trying to catch the audience off guard. Ironically, in doing so they somehow managed to create one of the most frustratingly bewildering horror movies to ever come out of the local genre scene. My only hope is that Francis can get a hold of a sharper script come his next fright venture, as his obvious flair for visual storytelling desperately calls for something more adept than this nonsense.

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Dir: Dean Francis
Writer:
Clive Hopkins
Cast: Bob Morely, Georgina Haig, Xavier Samuel, Sophie Lowe
Country: Australia
Run Time: 90mins
Rating: MA15+

Tuesday, January 17, 2012

Short Review: 'Penance' (2009)

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As we all know, the recently popular term ‘torture porn’ has become something of a staple in contemporary horror film criticism. Sometimes misrepresented and unfairly attributed, the supposed sub-genre was arguably spawned with the release of Eli Roth’s Hostel back in 2005 and took swift flight thereafter, inspiring many low budget filmmakers to push the boundaries of accepted screen violence, especially with regard to what the multiplex will tolerate. Needless to say, with human suffering being its primary driving force this breed of fright fare can be either genuinely compelling or woefully uninspiring.

And what better underground environment to set a torture film than in the world of a stripper? A match made in exploitation heaven, right? While low-budget indie Penance may initially appear to be classic drive-in fare it gradually morphs into something far more intriguing and challenging to the senses, advancing ideas about gender, morality and sexuality most films of this type never dare to press past the treatment page.

Amelia (Marieh Delfino) is a desperate single monster struggling to pay for her young daughter's life-threatening health afflictions. Running out of options and in dire need of money she reaches out to her friend Suzie, a professional stripper, who coaxes her into doing a few shows of her own in order to raise funds. When she reluctantly accepts a high-paying job for a questionable client, Amelia is kidnapped and brought back to an undisclosed abandoned hospital where she meets pseudo-preacher (and former surgeon) Geeves (Graham McTavish) who in turn informs her of her 'impurity' and propensity for 'sinful behavior'. Trapped, tortured and facing an impending fate, Amelia is forced to fight her way out...or become but another emasculated victim.

One of the most effective angles taken on by director Jake Kennedy with Penance is the POV perspective. The film begins somewhat unassumingly as a video confessional with Amelia speaking directly to a handheld camera (operated by a close friend), the intention of which to have it serve as a record of her efforts to earn money. As the story progresses and she becomes more and more entangled within a world beyond her control, the camera never leaves her side and remains a constant point of surveillance throughout her ordeal, forever a reminder of her intention to document. While at first appearing as a cheap gimmick (i.e., found footage), Kennedy quickly turns your expectations ninety degrees to the left by using the roaming camera as a crucial tool in bringing you deeper and more uncomfortably into the mindset of the antagonists.

Within the framing of this style (both figuratively and literally) is the screenplay’s introduction of a moral power play between its hero and villain. Geeves (an impressively powerful performance by McTavish) is a self-professed messenger of ‘God’, put on this earth to ‘purify’ those women whom he perceives as unclean and worthy of damnation, whilst Amelia (an equally courageous turn by Delfino) is merely a victim of circumstance, initially driven to avenge her maltreatment out of self defense. However, when Amelia comes to understand the greater picture behind Geeves’s rhetoric she eventually takes it upon herself to represent all those persecuted by him, thus delivering her own hand of righteous retribution in the name of her fellow female captives.

What’s particularly interesting about the finale is Kennedy’s refusal to take the easy rout; Amelia could have easily dethroned her aggressors through sexual mutilation or another symbolic method of physical punishment but instead she conjures up something far more unexpected and psychologically lasting, thus exemplifying their pitiful existence. Still, there remains a significant exploitational angle to Penance, so let’s just say onscreen bloodshed is by no means in short supply.

A far more ambitious film than his previous zombie feature debut Days of Darkness, Jake Kennedy proves with Penance that he is a serious filmmaker with genuine talent and an understanding of the importance of transgressive subject matter within genre cinema. More importantly, the film rises above most torture porn fare by making a serious attempt to deal with greater ideas as opposed to a mere fixation upon the systematic degradation of the human form. While it may prove a little too nihilistic for the casual viewer, horror fans seeking something with a harder dramatic edge could do a lot worse than this gritty ball buster.

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Dir: Jake Kennedy
Writer:
Jake Kennedy
Cast: Marieh Delfino, Graham McTavish, Michael Rooker, Alice Amter
Country: USA
Run Time: 85mins
Rating: R18+

Friday, January 13, 2012

Short Review: 'Easter Bunny Kill! Kill!' (2006)

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There is a certain mean-spiritedness sorely missing from today’s breed of exploitation movies. Almost everything exhibited on 42nd street during the 70s and 80s and later released on VHS prided itself with grisly nihilism and gloomy cynicism, rarely allowing audiences the chance to breathe a sigh of relief or run to the bathroom to upchuck their popcorn and soda. As much as today’s fan boys sincerely try to recreate this bygone sentiment very few succeed, instead delivering pale imitations of more defined sleazy favorites.

But just when you thought these movies were something of a dead art form, a demented little title comes along that reaffirms the notion that a light of inspiration as sordid as the films it spawns is still very much alive in the hearts of a wicked few. While by no means a display of filmmaking perfection, director Chad Ferrin’s fiendish Easter Bunny, Kill! Kill! exhibits a level of ugliness and twisted dementia that is near pitch perfect for this type of bizzarro cinema.

Mindy (Charlotte Marie) is a struggling single mother living with her mentally retarded son, Nicholas (Ricardo Gray) in a dilapidated, barely renovated home. One day Rhemington (Timothy Muskatell), a slimy grifter from off the street, charms Mindy into becoming her new love interest despite constant disapproval from Nicholas, whom is almost immediately ridiculed and abused by the new man of the house on a regular basis. Moreover, the only comfort the young boy gets is in confiding with his new pet rabbit. One night when Mindy is a work, Rhemington hits the town and returns home with a duo of hookers and his pedophilic buddy Ray (David Z. Stamp), only to find the house completely empty with no sign of Nicholas. Little do they know a killer lurks in the shadows, intent on delivering systematic justice…in a bunny mask no less!

Ferrin is clearly a fan of cinematic grime and slime. The manner in which he tirelessly infuses his film with a sensibility so vile and nasty is nothing short of striking, especially considering the ultra-low budget means at his disposal. Once again this is by no means a condemnation, in fact much the opposite, as Easter Bunny Kill! Kill! looks and sounds as if it were shot on an old 8mm camcorder, ingested via an AV connection and exported onto a BETAMAX tape, resulting in one of the most authentically scum-encrusted exploitation movies of the last ten years. Not bad. Not bad at all.

Furthermore, the films' unbridled repulsiveness is enhanced by Ferrin’s spot-on casting of Muskatell as the heinous, misogynistic stepfather of sorts. From the moment he slithers onto the screen the film immediately garners an even stronger sense of maniacal insanity as Muskatell delivers his lines with both tongue-in-cheek narcissism and unrestrained vulgarity, overpowering almost any supporting player that enters the frame with him. Gray is also hilariously shameless, if not a little over the top, providing the audience with even more reason to feel awkward and uneasy.

Easter Bunny Kill! Kill! also delivers the grisly goods in a particularly sadistic DIY fashion come the final act. The murderous rodent of the title uses a wide array of household appliances and ornaments to dispose of his/her victims including hammers, circular saws, broom handles and much more, all with bloody abandon and horrific finesse. The kills are also rather skillfully shot and edited, consisting of short, sharp bursts of brutality and brute force that make each thug’s demise appropriately jarring to the eyes and ears. Interestingly, the film is rarely gratuitous in its presentation of violence.

Despite some sluggish pacing and a slight over reliance on its singular location to tell the entire story, Easter Bunny Kill! Kill! retains a special level of nostalgic malevolence you simply don’t get at your local multiplex, or most chain video stores for that matter. While it may be tough for some to stomach, those more accustomed to having their DVD player infested with glorious grime are almost guaranteed to find something of garish delight in this wonderfully tasteless little abomination.

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Dir: Chad Ferrin
Writer:
Chad Ferrin
Cast: Timothy Muskatell, Charlotte Marie, Richardo Gray, David Z. Stamp
Country: USA
Run Time: 90mins
Rating: R18+

Wednesday, January 11, 2012

Short Review: 'Bikini Girls On Ice' (2009)

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The digital filmmaking revolution has exploded in the last decade to a point almost unforeseen by those who predicted its unveiling. With everybody and their kid brother picking up a high definition camcorder and shooting their mini masterpieces, the home video market has had to sweep its shelves in order to accommodate for an influx of low-budget titles so frequent in their production it would appear to be easier for an unknown filmmaker to land a distribution deal than a Hollywood bigwig. Supply and demand to the extreme.

No genre has been more privy to this movement than horror, with a slew of micro-priced epics hitting DVD almost every week…and then some. A perfect example of this relatively recent wave is Canadian-made slasher Bikini Girls On Ice, a bare bones body count flick sporting easily one of the best titles to come out of the sub-genre since 2000’s Sandy Hook Lingerie Party Massacre.

The film sets itself up quickly and without hesitation: a female collage football team is holding a fundraising bikini car wash and plans to transport all its participants via shuttle bus. Not long after taking off their transport breaks down just outside a seemingly abandoned gas station and, given the circumstances, the gals decide to hold an impromptu carwash in the parking lot. As low business and boredom set in, an unidentified maniac in a filthy jumpsuit starts picking off the young nubiles one-by-one - and putting them on ice! Who will survive and what will be left defrosted?

A self-confessed slasher movie aficionado, stalker flicks are by far my all time favorite breed of horror film. There’s something so simple and primal about the very raison-d’etre of sub-genre; an unfiltered exercise in pure tension and unadulterated sex and violence, all served up within a familiar formula easily digestible for the depraved degenerate in all of us. And while to some it may appear to be the poor-man’s excuse for a horror film, slasher films are in fact one of the most difficult to pull off and have leave a lasting impression, particularly when made for the teen crowd.

However, it pains me to say that regardless of its awesome title, Bikini Girls On Ice is not one of these films. Having said this, it’s not the worst of its kind either; the direction is capable, the girls are worthwhile eye candy and there is indeed a bathtub filled with ice featured more than once. Unfortunately, that’s where much of the positives end and the detriments begin. Director Geoff Klein and co-screenwriter Jeff Ross rarely bother to break established conventions, instead settling for a ho-hum structure that is at times painfully predictable and just plain lazy, not to mention the inclusion of a killer with no discernable MO. There are also some serious pacing problems come the second act when the characters spend a good thirty minutes or so meandering back and forth about how to best save themselves from their predicament, bringing the film to a screeching halt. I don’t know about you but a sex scene or two could have easily passed the time.

Which brings us to perhaps the most baffling point of all: the films’ surprising lack of both T&A and bloodshed. Surely by choosing to name your film after an item of women’s swimwear and the suggestion that those who adorn it will be horrifically slaughtered would prompt one to stack the bricks with bare flesh and entrails, no? As it stands, Bikini Girls On Ice features just ONE sex scene and ONE onscreen death. That’s it. Aside from a pretty nifty throat slashing all we get is the occasional smattering of blood on a wall or nothing at all. For a movie largely devoid of anything exciting in the suspense department the least Klein and co could have done would be to have amused the audience with a few grotesque kills and an extra boob or three.

Terrible performances, stunted plotting and minimal exploitation aside, you could do a lot worse than Bikini Girls On Ice. Regardless of its failings I still retain a soft spot for films like these, even if the majority of them aren’t exactly worth the price of a rental in the first place. However, if you were to grab a few buddies, a pizza and beers this low-budget cheese fest is almost guaranteed to entertain for its slim eighty-two minutes of screen time.

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Dir: Geoff Klein
Writer: Jeff Ross and Geoff Klein
Cast: Cindel Chartrand, Danielle Doetsch, William Jarand, Suzi Lorraine
Country: Canada
Run Time: 82mins
Rating: MA15+

Friday, January 6, 2012

Short Review: 'Paintball' (2009)

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Sport - mankind’s favourite pastime. A communal gathering of human beings with a competitive interest to prove one’s strategic and physical prowess at a given activity until a definitive victor is declared.

Murder - mankind’s most primal method of survival. An inner instinct possessed, however repressed, but called upon in order to overcome an external aggressor intent on imposing a threat to one’s life.

Granted I could be insane, but if you contemplate it for a moment these two common human practices are actually not that dissimilar from one another, at least in their outcome. By way of some twisted need to overwhelm one another with our capacity for complete dominance and control lies a fascination with the idea of antagonism; something seemingly inherent within the mind of modern man. After all, the expression ‘hunting for sport’ can’t simply be a coincidence.

Case in point: Paintball, a relatively low budget effort from Spain that situates an unsuspecting group of buddies out for a day of acrylic gunfire only to be mysteriously targeted by an unidentified player who’s only intention is to kill the opposing team members one-by-bloody-one. We also learn the slaughter is being feed live via monitors to a nameless association of onlookers watching from the safety of an underground bunker, supposedly somewhere near by and out of harm’s way. Will sole survivor Anna (Jennifer Matter) be able to defend herself against a covert operation of suited psychos or perish in a pool of entrails like so many of her other ill-fated friends?

Based on its goofy yet potentially brilliant scenario, Paintball has the makings of being a terrific satire; a blackly comedic critique of the self-indulgent and absurd nature of simulated violence and the allure it has toward those looking to engage with it without actually getting their hands dirty. And while there are minor shades of social commentary evident during a handful of moments throughout the film, director Daniel Benmayor and screenwriter Mario Schoendorff never actively take advantage of the goldmine upon which they sit, instead opting for a more straightforward B-movie approach that simply winds up feeling underwhelming at best.

Equally frustrating is the film’s visual aesthetic, unnecessarily split into two distinct sections. The opening third is dominated by nauseatingly handheld cinematography that teeters on the edge of being virtually unwatchable (I could feel my baked dinner spinning circles in my stomach) while the second and third acts revert to a far more controlled, studio-orientated style when the slaughter takes to the indoors. Benmayor also employs a number of point of view gimmicks from ‘the hunter’s perspective, such as the NV goggles, security camera footage and several other clumsy devices that end up doing more to interfere with the action than enhance it. While a noble stylistic choice in theory, the transition is far too jarring to go unnoticed and hinders the films’ chances of highlighting what are otherwise competent action set pieces.

Furthermore, Paintball makes itself known early on as a survivalist horror thriller, a film predicated on its ‘what if’ scenario. However, if you’re able to get two dimensions out of these characters consider yourself a humanitarian; each player in the game is so non-descript and faceless that one could swear the movie went into production with no cast auditions whatsoever. It’s clear the filmmaker’s didn’t care much for their pawns so why should we?

It’s not hard to see that a better movie lies somewhere within Paintball. Sure, as a no brainer pseudo-slasher flick it works perfectly fine but the overriding feeling that it could have been something far more pervades heavily in the mind until the final player is extinguished. Wishful thinking? Maybe. I just know there’s more to sport than friendly contact.

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Dir: Daniel Benmayor
Writer: Mario Schoendorff
Cast: Brenden Mackey, Jennifer Matter, Patrick Regis, Iaione Perez
Country: Spain
Run Time: 90mins
Rating: MA15+

Thursday, January 5, 2012

New DR Review: 'Colin'

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Evening, cretins!

The undead continue to walk the earth in my latest review for Digital Retribution, although this time we're privy to the apocalypse not through the eyes of those struggling to fend off the ghouls but rather through one of those doing the gut chomping!

Intrigued? Follow the link below to read my full review of great little micro-budget zombie flick Colin and you'll see just how far $75 and a well worth of creativity can get you.

CLICK HERE!

Wednesday, January 4, 2012

Short Review: 'The Tunnel' (2011)

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The notion that the cinema as we know it may indeed be flickering its last frames is certainly a disconcerting notion to address. Whether by fault of its own or a result of external factors, the film industry has long carried a chip on its shoulder with regard to ever diminishing box office sales and the increasingly persistent attitude on behalf of many audiences to shun their local theater in favor of alternate/illegal methods of movie consumption. Unless a solution is introduced in due time studios, filmmakers, critics and fans will simply continue to quibble back and forth about how to best rectify the situation so that both a healthy stream of financial returns are seen as well as a sustainable platform through which to view old, new and upcoming product.

Luckily, there are several filmmakers out there who are trying their darndest to reinvent the way in which the public are able to access movies whilst still maintaining a legitimate cash flow to investors. Shot in 14 days for approximately $36,000, The Tunnel has the illustrious honor of being one of the industry's first 'crowd-funded' films - a movie whose entire production budget is garnered by selling yet-to-be-shot frames of film to its intended audience. An innovative proposal to be sure, director Carlo Ledesma also managed to turn in a genuinely unsettling horror flick in the process, a feat rarely achieved for any genre film produced with such radically limited means.

The story is simple: the subway tunnels of Sydney, Australia are under serious scrutiny after rumours of a government cover up emerge in the media involving potential homeless civilians using the subterranean channels as shelter from the outside world. In an attempt to give credence to the story, a journalist (Bel Delia) and her production crew (Steve Davis, Luke Arnold) decide to delve into the underground with the hope of capturing the truth behind the sensational claims. However, it quickly becomes apparent those living beneath the asphalt are far from neglected locals...

Although at first it may appear to be horribly derivative, The Tunnel stands firmly apart in the ‘found footage’ sub-genre for refusing to conform to expectations and the amateur shock tactics that make so many other shaky-cam movies so frustratingly unimaginative. Structured and played out as if it were a legitimate documentary - or even a current affairs television segment – the film is skillfully assembled using confessional interviews, news camera footage, security camera footage and the occasional archival material from fictitious tabloid stories to create the impression of a genuine event having taken place and the profound repercussions it has since had on those associated with it. However, unlike many faux documentaries with a similar foundation, director Carlo Ledesma successfully manages to downplay the sensationalism of the subject matter so that it never comes across as cheap, prime time exploitation; reiterating the notion that subtly is by far the more effective approach given the films’ elected format.

Equally integral to the films’ success are the terrific dual performances from Delia and Davis, two actors who deliver the crucial verisimilitude the story needs in order to sell the magic trick. Nuanced, restrained and perfectly understated, both actors display an acute awareness of the austere mood established early on and follow through with it until the tragic events of the finale. Had these roles been miscast we would have an entirely different film indeed.

Of course, when the crew finally makes their descent into the subterranean depths and the lights begin to dim, that’s when the real atmosphere surrounding The Tunnel creeps its way along the spine. Technically, the cinematography and the amount of imagery we’re exposed to is kept beautifully suggestive and ominous throughout; the one-man camera coverage is plentiful but also evocative enough to have you squinting your eyes into the shadows in anticipation of horrors unseen. As the situation faced by the team becomes more and more desperate and tempers being in to rise, Ledesma makes sure to keep the frame just off balance, adding to the feelings of discomfort and disorientation experienced by the crew's impending nightmare. The unpredictability of the environment also plays heavily into the scares with every grimy passageway and disused burrow leading deeper into the unknown. In the end this is not a film comprised of cheap shocks and 1000 decibel audio blasts; these filmmakers who know how to treat their audience with respect.

Shortcomings in the script department and occasional lapses in logic can be easily forgiven in a film as effective as The Tunnel because its mind and heart are irrefutably in the right place. These and other like minded indie horror efforts are the kinds of movies genre fans should be supporting, particularly in the face of a market struggling to preserve its future. Do yourself a favor and cough up a buck or two for a cast and crew truly deserving of their efforts. Oh, and in case you haven’t guessed the movie is damn creepy as well.

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Dir: Carlo Ledesma
Writers: Enzo Tedeschi and Julian Harvey
Cast: Bel Delia, Steve Davis, Luke Arnold, Andy Rodoreda
Country: Australia
Run Time: 90mins
Rating: M15+

Saturday, December 31, 2011

Dressing for the Bordello

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Afternoon, cretins!

Us horror peeps love our t-shirts. Something of a given dress code for many, horror tees can serve as an immediate indicator to fellow fright fans of one's preferred fright favs or simply as an awesome garment for public eyes. Either way, we all have our fare share of nightmarish knitting.

One of the best shirt companies making a name for itself in the genre scene is T-Shirt Bordello. These guys specialize in highly tongue-in-cheek designs that ape cult films, video games and other pop culture paraphernalia, all of which are served up with a good natured winking to those who adore their subject matter. Whether you're a fan of They Live, Silence of he Lambs, Coffin Joe, H.P Lovecraft or even The Overlook Hotel, T-Shirt Bordello have a design to satisfy your inner nerd and make it shine.

Check out their entire horror selection HERE

For more information and online purchases, visit www.tshirtbordello.com

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Friday, December 30, 2011

Samityville's Worst Films of 2011!

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Evening, cretins!

And now I preset to you...the unfortunate ones. While 2011 may have provided genre fans with a number of choice nightmares it also vomited out more than its fare share of cinematic no-nos, several of which were nigh unwatchable to say the least. But what is a fan if they can't take a few for the team...so to speak?

Read on if you care...

5. Scream 4

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The horror landscape has seen a lot of changes in the last decade. As with the original, screenwriter Kevin Williamson saw an opportunity to satirize the current genre climate, however for a series that was so much a product of its time he clearly ran into problems when retro-fitting the same formula to the present day. Obnoxious, tedious and relentlessly silly, this infuriating sequel was so aggressively ‘meta’ in its presentation and context to the point that Craven and co. completely forgot to make an intriguing murder-mystery. Furthermore, the pairing of the aging original cast with a group of annoying 20-somethings was awkward at best, giving way to an overwhelming feeling that no one involved really wanted to be there in the first place. And don’t even get me started on that ending...

4. Season of the Witch

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Nicolas Cage: cinema’s most atypical star. For an actor who is clearly in the tax-debt-repaying phase of his career he sure knows how to draw a crowd. Regardless of how bad audiences figured the film was going to be (and it was BAD) they still showed up to threw down the green in a masochistic hope that somehow it would provide ninety minutes of quality entertainment. For all the dreadful performances, horrid CGI and laughable historics it was the overriding impression of weariness and tiresome theatrics that ultimately sank this pseudo-horror period piece, demonstrating once again that no matter how ‘name’ your cast is, a turd can never be polished.

3. The Roommate

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We all know the movie biz has a knack for recycling its own material but this little number literally redefined the term ‘cookie cutter’. Shamelessly aping the entire plot line of Single White Female, the sheer lack of
innovation on display throughout Christian E. Christiansen’s snore-inducing teeny bopper psycho yarn was almost unbearable, so much so that the cinema I saw this in put the young couple in front of me to sleep after the first forty-five minutes! I completely understand the fact the film really wasn’t designed for my generation but surely Sony Screen Gems could have afforded to inject at least some legitimate drama into this otherwise flaccid claptrap? No? I should have known.

2. The Rite

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There must be a crisis of faith going on in Hollywood these days. The amount of religious-themed horror movies released in the last two years or so would suggest that either audiences really dig it when God wins or that there’s some secretive push spearheaded by the right wing to convince all agnostics that science is the weaker excuse. However, when all was said and done nothing could justify the existence of this cinema-induced coma. Devoid of any entertainment value whatsoever (unless you consider a sleepwalking Anthony Hopkins fun), the smug arrogance with which this film carried itself was at times astonishing, leading me to believe I was in fact merely watching an onslaught of blatant Christian propaganda disguised as a genre movie. What’s worse, the estimated budget spent was over $37 million (!) On what? Hopkin’s cassock?

1. My Soul To Take

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It’s a sad state of affairs when two Wes Craven films feature on a ‘worst of’ list. For the man behind some of the genre’s most revered and respected classics it’s almost impossible to comprehend how a filmmaker of such talent could have lost his way so completely…that is unless you were brazen enough to endure this incomprehensible mess of a film. Where does one even begin to describe the cinematic conniption that was My Soul To Take? A completely nonsensical plot, detestable characters (were we actually meant to care about Bug?), internal logic that changed every ten minutes and one of the most ludicrous villains his side of Dr Evil. Ultimately though, it is the utter ineptitude of Craven’s screenplay that causes the most
bewilderment. Did anybody read it before signing on? Oh, and who’s bright idea was it to post-convert this to 3-D just a few months before its American theatrical release (it went direct-to-video here in Oz)? I guess they thought it would help the movie’s success. Guess what: it didn’t.

What say you, cretins?

Wednesday, December 28, 2011

Samityville's Best Films of 2011!

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Evening, cretins!

Well, another year in horror has passed us by with a vengeance...and what a year it was. Alongside the usual spate of remakes and sequels/prequels flooding the market we were privy to a significant and very public resurgence of the ratings board - both locally and internationally - and the increasing power it continues to wield over filmmakers and their productions. Almost everywhere you turned the fright community was discussing the censorial crackdown on A Serbian Film and Human Centipede 2, movies that in their own right made a very conscious decision to provoke and challenge the limits of cinema transgression but were nonetheless valid artistic expressions regardless of how you chose to interpret them. Fans were also struck by the death of several renowned genre icons, in particular director Ken Russell (Altered States) and actor David Hess (The Last House on the Left), two creative forces that will never be forgotten.

On a lighter note, twas also a year for some awesome sinema as well! What was worth seeing, you ask? Read on to find out...

10. Stake Land

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Vampires, vampires and more vampires. By the turn of 2011 one would have thought the horror genre had seen just about enough sharp-toothed bloodsucker epics to last out the rest of the century (at least the sparkling kind) and beyond. However, when you have an intelligent script, a solid cast and a strong vision leading the way, anything is possible. This beautifully sombre, post-apocalyptic saga of survival set amid a crippling population threatened by nocturnal exsanguinators provided a much-needed fresh take on a severely worn-out scenario and proved intricate, intelligent and reverent enough to never take the easy way out whilst still delivering the grisly goods. Fan favourite Danielle Harris also took advantage of the opportunity to finally spread her acting wings in a role that both challenged and emphasized her unique range. A low budget highlight.

9. Kidnapped

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Technically a home invasion thriller, this ultra-violent Spanish effort managed to mold itself firmly enough within horror conventions to fall under he banner of fright fare, and what a frightening ordeal it was. Never one to concern itself with plot intricacies, overly complex characters or even subtle subtext, Kidnapped is a straightforward, take-no-prisoners story of one family’s unrelenting nightmare at the hands of three masked intruders – and it worked perfectly. Kudo’s also goes to director Miguel Angel Vivas and crew for staging arguably the most nihilistic ending of the year.


8. Tucker and Dale vs Evil

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Any genre fan will tell you a great horror/comedy is something of a rarity, however director Eli Craig most certainly concocted one of the finest we've seen in a long, long time. Although somewhat of a
one-note flick, Tucker and Dale vs Evil was a hilarious hillbilly comedy of errors-set that delivered every conceivable promise in spades, all punctuated with a slapstick smack of silliness that helped along the absurdity of the scenario. The chemistry between Alan Tudyk and Tyler Labine was more than a treat to watch and worked seamlessly in tandem with the supporting cast of hapless nublies being chopped up into wood chips. Energetic, clever and consistently amusing, this one is bound to be a favorite at drunken movie nights for years to come.

7. Best Worst Movie

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Lauded at film festivals for months before its limited theatrical release, this truly awesome documentary detailing the unlikely story behind Troll 2 – a film considered by the greater majority as the worst ever made – turned out to be everything a fanboy could have dreamt for and more. Something of a labour of love for almost four years, the films’ real-life star Michael Stevenson managed to capture a portrait of misguided filmmaking and the unintended legacy it continues to leave behind that is so honest and unfiltered in its presentation you couldn’t help but be swept up by it every step of the way. Hilarious, fascinating, sad and strangely moving, Best Worst Movie achieved the impossible: infusing its subject matter with a tongue-in-cheek sensibility whilst always treating the infamous film and its fans with complete respect and admiration.


6. Red State

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A lot has been said about Kevin Smith over the years. For a filmmaker so outspoken toward his critics he certainly has a knack for witty responses, so much so that on the surface his political horror story Red State appeared to be a reactionary statement to all those who have condemned him.
Luckily, this was not the case and the resulting film stands confidently on its own two legs. Situating a bunch of horny go-getters as captives to a fundamental Christian sect in the deep south, Smith took what could have been a fairly predictable scenario and wildly turned it on its head by introducing an array of offbeat characters, effective black humor and a number of genuinely suspenseful and bloody set pieces worthy of his more action-oriented contemporaries. Michael Parks is particularly attention grabbing in a stellar performance as the films’ psychotic preacher, as is the always-reliable John Goodman as a federal employee tasked with taking him down.

5. A Serbian Film

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What more can be said about this film that hasn’t already been said? Widely banned, internationally protested and even a victim of criminal prosecution, almost very effort to prevent the release of A Serbian Film acted as a draw card for further audience curiosity. Whether or not you bought into the filmmaker’s insistence of the story’s sociopolitical context one had to agree it remained a strikingly made cinematic nightmare that, from the get-go, constructed a world of sleaze and
sordidness so palpable that when things turned murderous it only made the ensuing emotional devastation all the more disturbing. In many ways the film is the closest this generation is likely to get to Pier Paolo Pasolini’s Salo and unlikely to be equaled for some time to come. While replay value may not be its strong point, the sheer impact incurred from a single viewing is enough to instil a lifetime’s worth of effectively unsettling imagery you won’t soon forget.

4. I Spit On Your Grave (remake)

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The chance of a remake making any ‘best of’ list is slim to nothing, especially considering the fact that Hollywood seems to have entirely missed the point behind so many of the genre titles they’ve recreated over the last eight years.
Naturally, I too was ready to burn Steven R. Monroe at the stake when a redo of the Meir Zarchi classic I Spit On Your Grave was announced…until I watched the movie. Superbly acted, skillfully paced and featuring some of the most nihilistic kills in the rape/revenge genre to date, this nasty little nugget surpassed any and all expectations and further proved that if you stick to your guns as a filmmaker you’re likely to create something even more powerful than you anticipated. This is easily one of the ballsiest remakes in existence and one that actually manages to build upon both the intensity of the original as well as the complexity of its characters. Surprisingly recommended.

3. Human Centipede 2: Full Sequence

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With the exception of A Serbian Film, no single genre release this year caused as much worldwide controversy as the inevitable sequel to Tom Six’s infamously perverted 2010 mad scientist yarn The Human Centipede. Officially billed by the director as a follow-up that would “make the first one look like Pocahontas”, HC2 is a virtual funhouse of horrors that knows no limits, and yet throughout all the sandpaper masturbation, teeth hammering, barbed wire raping and newborn head-crushing the film remained strangely compelling and
oddly cathartic. More importantly, despite common misconceptions the film is also a near-perfect black comedy, continuously digressing from one absurd action to another until the audience surrenders its initial disgust and gives way to laughter. Ultimately, it is the astonishing performance by Lawrence R. Harvey that holds the gaffer tape together, an actor so fearless in his convictions that only he could make a demented sex killer adorable.

2. Insidious

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James Wan and Leigh Whannell have irrefutably left their name upon the horror genre, all within a period of just over seven years. And while their breakout effort Saw may have established the young creative duo as a force to be reckoned with, it wasn’t until the release of their third feature-length collaboration Insidious earlier this year that Hollywood really began to take notice of the Melbourne natives and their innate ability to make a cracking movie on a minuscule dime. Meticulously crafted, beautifully shot and at times unbearably suspenseful, their loving postcard to Poltergeist and countless other supernatural successes of the past was chilling enough to inspire several viewers to post reactionary videos on YouTube, in some cases featuring sobbing teenagers warning potential audiences of its scare factor. Regardless of whether or not you remained on board for the films’ slightly goofier second half the impressive jolts displayed early on were effective enough to garner
admiration from even the most hardened of fright fans.

1. The Woman

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Rarely are contemporary horror films both intellectually challenging and thoroughly entertaining at the same time. More often than not a filmmaker will simply situate his/her characters within a life-threatening scenario then simply play upon audience expectations as to who will survive and how the given evil will be vanquished. This is not the case with Lucky McKee’s The Woman, a truly unique and wonderfully dense story of human behavior at its worst that refuses to bow to the genre’s conventions and consistently demands your attention from start to finish. Nothing about the movie is played safe; exact story details are left intentionally mysterious, every character is deeply flawed and morally questionable, the violence is malicious and confronting but most of all it implores a level of analysis and personal reflection that would likely give the casual moviegoer a twenty-four hour migraine. No other film released in 2011 lingered in the mind longer than this little number and for that reason alone I respect the hell out of it.

What say you, cretins?

Sunday, December 18, 2011

Next MHFS Screening: 'Black Christmas' (1974)

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Evening, cretins!

The fat man is coming and I know you've been naughty. But who cares! This festive season, why not celebrate commercial consumerism with a glass mantle piece to the heart...and a screening of the Bob Clark canuxploitation classic Black Christmas! Oh yes, if you thought Carpenter's Halloween was the first slasher flick off the block, think again.

A truly unnerving and compelling piece of stalker cinema, Black Christmas is largely unknown to casual horror fans but hailed by devotees - and with good reason. Beautifully shot, atmospherically rich and featuring some of the genre's most beloved veterans (including another indispensable John Saxon performance), this flick is one holiday number you won't want to miss in the cold. Or sun. Or whatever. Long story short, it's fantastic.

So come along to the Melbourne Horror Film Society on Tuesday 27th at 7:30pm at Bar303 Northcote and celebrate our last screening of the year! Things can - and will - only get better in 2012...

Ears up, evil elves.

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Tuesday, November 29, 2011

The Stunted Insect...

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Evening, cretins.

Well, just when you thought we were making progress and moving forward as a society...this shit happens. After NSW Attorney General Greg Smith demanded that the original R18+ rating (for 'high-impact themes, violence and sexual violence') granted to Tom Six's Human Centipede 2: Full Sequence be reconsidered by the Classification Review Board, the merry band of social elitists decided to reverse their initial decision and refuse the film a classification altogether, thus effectively banning it from a further general theatrical release.

The Board met on Monday and revealed their decision via press release yesterday:

“In the Review Board’s opinion, The Human Centipede II (full sequence) could not be accommodated within the R 18+ classification as the level of depictions of violence in the film has an impact which is very high.“In addition, the film must be refused classification because it contains gratuitous, exploitative or offensive depictions of violence with a very high degree of impact and cruelty which has a high impact."

The preventative measures undertaken have been welcomed by the Christian lobby group FamilyVoice Australia, whom made a request to the review board in the hope that it would be banned. Needless to say, they were overjoyed with the result:

“On behalf of Australian families, we thank the Board for its unanimous agreement. Pornography based on human torture has no place on Australian screens.”

As many horror fans are well aware, Six's film was infamously refused classification in the UK before an eventual removal of two minutes and 37 seconds of footage was made in order for the censors to give it a pass. An edited version was also released in the US last month.

This marks the second occasion this year of a feature film being approved and then banned in a matter of weeks by the Australian Review Board. Srđan Spasojević's controversial A Serbian Film was initially passed without editorial intrusion earlier this year but re-submitted and subsequently expelled from public view.

Ironically, the ridiculous ruling came after the film's local distributor, Monster Pictures, took the film on a nation-wide tour in its UNCUT form, complete with star Lawrence R. Harvey in tow for several Q&A sessions to help promote its release. The screenings were a tremendous success, often times on the brink of selling out. I myself managed to catch the screening in Melbourne and the vibe throughout the night was electric to say the least.

It is likely that distributor Monster Pictures will submit the edited version of Human Centipede 2 for reclassification and ensure its Australian release. The company's initial plans for a home video release of the film on DVD and Blu-Ray on February 23rd 2012 may have to be reconsidered in light of the recent verdict.

Where does one even begin to address the stupidity and hypocrisy of this decision? This is not a film intended to be seen by the casual moviegoer, nor is it even compatible for anyone not familiar with the first installment or with an rough idea of what to expect. Ultimately (and most horror fans would likely agree), it is a well-made film by a skilled and talented filmmaker very much in tune with the films' propensity for black humor and its place within a genre that is rapidly becoming the antithesis of its transgressive roots.

Oh, and IT'S ONLY A FREAKING MOVIE, PEOPLE!

To help Monster Pictures fight this close-minded ruling and keep up to date with all the latest developments, follow them on Facebook and Twitter. Spread the word!