Film Reviews by NP

By 1988, giallos had been around for a long time and had understandably passed their peak. Here we have a good concoction of the usual ingredients - a whispering voice on the phone, a shambling police agent and some gory set-pieces set amidst elegant backdrops.

Directed by Ruggero 'Cannibal Holocaust' Deodato, this production is a showcase for the lesser appeals of the 1980s. An occasional backdrop of soulless, Linn-drum 'pop' music that typified the latter half of that decade and outsized shoulder pads and garish colourful fashion, and an expansive gloss that reminds me of the increasingly preposterous America soap giants like 'Dallas' and 'Dynasty' - luckily the three leads are not too blighted by such elements.

Dependable Michael York plays lady-magnet and pianist Robert Dominisci as well as he plays all his roles; Edwige Fenech has nothing much to do as Hélène Martell, his stunning girlfriend and a disinterested Donald Pleasence shuffles around as Inspector Datti, forever on the trail of the mysterious killer. His performance falls because he has no character, and his rant in the street ("You murdering b******! I kill you! I kill you!") amidst shoppers who don't bat and eyelid, is very odd in particular.

Pino Donaggio's score is good, but doesn't possess the stirring majesty of Ennio Morricone and Bruno Nicolai, and the smooth veneer of the production takes away many elements that personified giallo films at their peak. As such, this leans towards police procedural featuring a sympathetic, deformed killer, albeit with some beautiful locations. Dominisci's Jekyll/Hyde-like degeneration has a tragic permanence to it. Sadly for Datti, here is a criminal who did everything he could to get caught - and still the inspector failed to catch him.

Having read some reviews of this film, it seems either to bring out extreme reactions (lots of 10s out of 10, lots of 1s also) or there is some political work at play. I quite enjoyed it: it’s a very slow burner, and what scares there are, are subtle and involve a minimum amount of special effects.

Caity Lotz is Annie, a formerly wayward single mother who is also a bikie (when she can prize her motorbike helmet over her constant pout). Casper Van Dien is Bill Creek, an officer even prettier than she is. He takes her seriously when she reports a series of hauntings at her mother’s house, and also that her sister Nicole, appears to have gone missing (along with her cousin Liz).

‘The Pact’ is a modestly budgeted ghost story written and directed by Nicholas McCarthy. It was successful enough to spawn a sequel. The scares won’t be ‘jumpy’ enough for some, and fiercely independent Annie is initially difficult to like. The story is thinly stretched, but it is worth sticking with: there are moments that are genuinely frightening, and the lack of spectacular effects doesn’t detract from an overall feeling of unease.

Twits will insist on breeding, won’t they? Back in the 1980s, the adults represented here would have been known as Yuppies, young and upwardly mobile characters who do terribly well in business. This allegedly successful bent is balanced by possessing personalities smug and self-serving coupled with an inability to cope with the challenges of raising their young. I don’t wish to enter into the debate of child discipline too strongly, but “We don’t smack children here,” is the mantra extolled by the adults and possibly this stretches to “we don’t discipline children at all.” The reason I say this is that most of the youngsters are brattish, and whenever they misbehave, their behaviour is met with an ‘understanding’ gaze and a “What’s the matter, sweetheart?” line of soothing questions. When the children’s behaviour deteriorates further and they actually start killing people, the remaining parents are still trying to empathise with them, which leaves this viewer wondering who is more deserving of a slap?

Anyway, with that out of the way, what we have here is a New Year’s Eve smug-off celebration where two attractive young families can outwardly hug and adore each other, while privately slate each other for lack of business acumen. The idyllic surroundings are spoiled when the children seem to become possessed and start killing the hapless adults. It is never explained why this happens.

Most brattish of all is sexy teen strop artist Casey (Hannah Tointon), who emerges as the true hero of the piece, having been wrongly accused of all sorts by the idiotic adults. The mix of their stupidity and her precocious, inappropriately flirtatious manner doesn’t help anyone, but she displays sense and a stoical attitude whilst all about her are whimpering and floundering.

In many slasher-type films, we find ourselves willing for the death of the alleged ‘good guys’, but such a (surely) deliberate decision to make the parents this stupid is an interesting expansion of reasons for dislike. And whilst the children never quite become the threat we are supposed to think they are, their looks of angelic distraction works well in a creepy kind of way – as does the revelation of yet more juveniles scattered throughout the unforgiving snow and frosty woodlands.

Where things don’t work quite as well is in the kids’ physical power. Possibly more time and money would have been needed to successfully make them more formidable and whilst the effects here are good, they rarely quite convince, often making the adults suffering at their hands even more inept. With a heightening of the actual brutality, this would have been more successful. What he have is a well-made thriller with good performances and as such, is worth seeing.

David Arquette plays Robert Mars, who provides a welcome antidote to the rather saccharine family unit who make the mistake of allowing him to rent the cottage behind their house. Before long, this quirky, dashing newcomer is displaying qualities that are not quite what you would look for in a neighbour. Arquette plays this very well, accompanying many a questionable statement with a winning smile and charming demeanour; before long, however, these traits become simply unnerving accompaniment to increasingly threatening, weird behaviour.

The most disturbing thing about this is Mars’ predilection for apparently under-rage girls. They are easily manipulated by his ways, but even his smooth line in smarm doesn’t adequately explain the lengths they are prepared to go for him. Although the gore is very lightweight, there is much that is nasty here. He is a Charles Manson prototype, but in a production that never quite jumps into top gear.

There are occasional moments of tension, but overall this comes across as weird, rather than frightening, and all in suburban surroundings, which sanitises things a little. The scenes with Mars and his very young concubines remain effective, though, but having toyed with the older man/younger girl syndrome, ‘The Tenant’ doesn’t do a huge amount that is interesting with it.

I was initially attracted to this French film because of the highly-billed inclusion of Brigitte Lahaie. Sadly, however, she’s barely in it, and plays an entirely peripheral character. With that disappointment out of the way, there is a huge amount to enjoy here – however, I think ‘The Ordeal’ is something of an acquired taste.

Travelling cabaret singer Marc Stevens (Laurent Lucas) becomes stranded in the formidable, rolling forests of the Ardennes, but Mr Bartel (Jackie Berroyer), a kindly inn-keeper offers not only to put him up for the night but to fix his van the following morning. Also along the way, Stevens comes into contact with the distracted Boris (Jean-Luc Couchard ), who is dejectedly looking for his dog, lost in the snow. That Boris then turns up at the inn, and is clearly a good friend of Bartel, doesn’t bode well: one would hope Boris’s broken mind is a lone malady that separates him from the nearby villagers – in fact, the whole community is similarly unstable.

Quite why this should be is never explained: it just is. Why the village is allowed to operate in the way it does without interference from the law is equally unfathomable. But if you don’t mind the lack of explanations, this is an enjoyably hellish ride. Poor Stevens makes every attempt to reason with and placate those who wish him harm, and also carries out valiant escape attempts – but things continue not to look good for him.

This reminds me of a ‘straight’ version of quirky UK dark comedy ‘The League of Gentlemen’, and shares with it a nightmarish environment – but there are no laughs here. The endless surrounding area could not be more isolated, with the punishing weather only compounding that. Bartel’s compulsion to turn his guest into his dead wife Gloria is carried out in a surprisingly nasty way, and that fact that the villagers share his wishes give the viewer the overwhelming idea that things are going to turn very nasty for Stevens. And they do.

This French/Romanian film features Olivia Bonamy and Michaël Cohen as Clémentine and Lucas, a couple whose lives are about to get very unpleasant. Torture, ritualistic brutality and an increasing atmosphere of ‘we’re not going to get out of this’ permeates throughout this intimately told story of genuine horror. This is all the more frightening because, if the blurb is to be believed, it was based on true events.

Feral, murderous children is a theme that isn’t new. But if handled well, it can be shocking. And so it is here. That the atrocities occur so close to ‘respectable’ civilisation injects and extra dimension into it. As Clémentine impotently screams for help by a roadside full of commuters too busy to see or help, it is frustrating for the viewer that she is in such continual straits.

Set up as one big, futile rush for freedom amidst moments of graphic horror and overwhelming hopelessness (courtesy of directors/writers David Moreau and Xavier Palud) the story might prove to be too thin for some. However, the 77-minute set-piece contains enough jeopardy and nastiness to appeal to me. Recommended.

This 2009 production is set in the 1980s and as such, gives a pretty accurate depiction of those times, minus many of the peroxide and fashionable extremes. Even perennial musical entrepreneur Thomas Dolby’s magnificent ‘One of our Submarines’ can be heard at one stage.

This Ti West scripted/directed film features the appealing Jocelin Donahue as Samantha, whose search for employment leads her into some increasingly dark directions. Baby-sitting a non-existent child doesn’t fill anyone with optimism about her current job, but she perseveres.

A fairly pedestrian storyline isn’t helped by the unevenly slow pacing of events. There are some gory moments, and some effectively staged set-pieces, but these are infrequent, and far too much time is spent setting things up that never seem to come to anything. This changes in the last act, when Samantha’s plight becomes more than slow-burning teasers, and something manifestly evil. Herein, the more traditional moments of horror are welcome after a long time waiting.

This is an above average teen-based horror that taps into an interesting premise. Social media. Unwanted attention. Who exactly are you accepting as a ‘friend’ on what is to all intents and purposes Facebook? And especially pertinent – how social media has become a vital part of our lives; a few years ago, a subject like this wouldn’t have existed.

Laura (Alycia Debnam-Carey) is being cyber-stalked after accepting a friend request from the classroom outcast, who sees her as a ‘sister.’ Marina (Liesl Ahlers) is something of a textbook ‘weirdo’ – on one hand she is just another pretty girl who chooses to dress down and indulge herself in goth imagery. On the other, she is genuinely fragile, stigmatised by a hair-pulling disorder. Things become typically intense, with Marina taking her subsequent rejection extremely badly and displaying she possesses certain demonic qualities.

What I thought was going to be blighted by depictions of the youngsters as massively irritating (teensploitation?), actually takes various satisfyingly dark turns and provides some successful mood-pieces and jump-scares. However, it is content to follow the paths of other horrors before it (particularly ‘The Ring’, I thought), and although the characters are fairly likeable, there’s little to distinguish them. That said, what this does, it does well.

“Bite me,” instructs Nora (Nicki Aycox), and floundering decent guy Jarrett (Marc Blucas) isn’t sure he wants to. But Nora’s highly charged, insatiable sexuality doesn’t seem to accept uncertainties. These two performers are excellent in what is little more than a series of passionate sexual encounters and gore. Her ‘other beau’ Vic (Naveen Andrews) also shares her feral instincts and is clearly not someone with whom you would wish to ‘mess.’

Stylistically, this reminded me of a kind of cross between the slinky sexiness of ‘Underworld (2003)’ and the trailer-park atmospherics of ‘Near Dark (1987)’. Not a bad pedigree, and Director Douglas Aarniokoski ensures that visually things are interesting even if the story is somewhat thin – and strangely, gets thinner as events take their course. With a lessening of the sex, we are bombarded with more CGI effects the limited budget cannot sustain. This is a shame – with a more physical manifestation of the finale, it would have been more successful. CGI, unless expertly (and expensively) handled, robs a scene of atmosphere and reduces it to cartoon theatrics, and that is what happens here unfortunately. As such, it lessens the otherwise successful interpretation of John Skipp’s original story.

This low budget zombie project makes a good stab at convincing us the world has become an apocalyptic wasteland ravaged by the living dead. The dialogue over-eggs the story being told, with every (otherwise impressive) twist and turn being spelled-out to us. The zombie make-up comprises of actors wearing masks. Gruesome and detailed, yes, but they are masks all the same.

Lieutenant Colonel Sawyer (Robert Tweten) equips himself with so much armour and weapons, he resembles a kind of Robocop prototype. His mission is to bury the ashes of his family, and he travels across cursed, barren land to do so. On the way, he meets with hard-of-hearing Stephany (Ire Levy), who is being stalked by both the living dead, and sex-starved males throughout.

They meet up with elderly Wilson (John J Welsh), and here, typical horror-character-stupidity comes into play, when Stephanie decides to continue her journey without them. Her deafness, as you may imagine, makes for a perilous situations as she changes her wardrobe for a short skirt, before she is rescued and brought back into the fold. Some things never change.

Director and co-writer Rene Perez does a good job with this. Visually, it is very good, with nice panoramic views of deserted streets and the like. He also provide the terrific score, as ‘the Darkest Machines’. Where things occasionally fall down is due to some very slow scenes, often dialogue-lead, which seriously drag things down (the potentially interesting explanation of events from the President, outstays its welcome). The pleasing action sequences are worth seeing, however, with the zombies exploding gobbets of green gunk, reminding us how putrefied they are throughout.

I wasn’t massively impressed with this. With a title like ‘Killer Nun’, it is no great surprise to find Anita Ekberg’s Sister Gertrude behaving in a continually unorthodox manner, indulging in brief sexual dalliances (with both genders), drug taking and being horrible to those in her care. Ekberg plays the deterioration well, and Paola Morra is also excellent as Sister Mathieu - but on the whole, this is a very dull affair.

Director and co-writer Giulio Berruti lets some sub-par visuals pass, with background characters glancing at the camera and occasional scenes that would have benefitted from another take. Only towards the end do events become disturbing, and effectively so. At last Gertrude’s hallucinogenic events are increasingly frenzied and you get the feeling the film is finally getting somewhere. Sadly though, this feeling doesn’t last long, although there is a good twist at the end.

I get the impression ‘Killer Nun’ is quite happy simply to feature controversial scenes of a Nun (or Nuns) behaving badly and doesn’t really seem interested in progressing any further than that.

After a prologue that is almost sunk by some uncertain acting, the film proper begins with Dinah (Elena Caruso) and Jake (Chris Conner) attempting to patch up their marriage by moving to Amish country. Inevitably, they bring with them their two young children. But worry not – no petulant brats here: Steven (Noah Headley) and Michaela (Accalia Quintana) are appealing, especially the little girl, whose genuine delight about the wide open spaces in their new home becomes something else entirely as the story moves on.

This low budget feature is, however, possibly too restrained in its imagery. Happy to be creepy rather than terrifying, that’s fair enough - Director Ivan Kraljevic at least resists the monotony of constant jump-scares few films feel they could do without.

What we have is an enjoyable slow-burner that dips more than one toe into the ‘folk horror’ category. The nature of the horror, together with the location and the family’s new neighbours provide a different spin on things. This, together with genuinely sympathetic characters, makes a superficially tame production worth seeing.

Married Ruth and Miguel separate after Ruth finds a new man, Paul, whom she flaunts in front of her soon-to-be ex with not a care in the world. Thus she embarks on her fling, with which Director José María Forqué is far more interested in than we are. The pairing is smugness personified, and gorgeous looking as they may be, Analía Gadé and Jean Sorel, don’t invest the characters with anything much more than self-satisfaction.

Although it is difficult to sympathise with Ruth even when mysterious ‘accidents’ start occurring, there’s no doubt that Paul is a first rate twit whom you wouldn’t wish on anyone. Yet, when they inevitably make-up once more and we are treated to more overlong, ‘tasteful’ scenes of lovemaking – mere sex is too commonplace for these two – we realise they are as bad as each other.

When Miguel (Tony Kendall) turns up once more, Paul’s reverie appears to become fractured and, although things never really take off, events become slightly more interesting. Are Miguel and Paul plotting to kill Ruth? She gets the distinct impression they are.

Putting to one side the saturation scenes of the pairing, and some very unconvincing day-for-night shots, this is a very good looking film, quite aside from the gleaming blandness of the leads. The locations and landscapes, not to mention the buildings and décor, are breath-taking. Aside from that, however, we’re left primarily with three smug twits (or five if you include the more peripheral Rossana Yanni’s Danielle and Roland, played by Mauricio Bonuglia).

There are some interesting twists toward the end, when the audience is continually wrong-footed, but this rewarding pay-off doesn’t quite justify the tediousness that fills much of the running time .

One of the many reasons I have been drawn to the giallo genre over the last few years is the attention paid to locations. Beautiful, jaw-dropping scenery occasionally succeeds in distracting the viewer from a meandering plot, or plot details that sometimes make little sense. I also love that these productions are very ‘of their time’. That is to say, at their peak in the early 70s, their style virtually defines the look and style of those years.

This is very much the case with ‘The Designated Victim’, which Shameless DVDs have brought us from the brink of the abyss of ‘lost films’. Carefully stitching the project back together, we should be grateful that this exists at all. It has the exotic looks of the early 70s ‘turned up to 11’. The Venice locations are incredible, draped in chilly mist, which greatly enhances the enigmatic presence of fey Count Matteo Tiepolo (Pierre Clémenti, dubbed by an actor who seems to be channelling Michael Gough), all long curls and flowing, eccentric clothes. His relationship with weary playboy Stefano Augenti (Tomas Milian, also featured in the following year’s ‘Don’t Torture a Duckling’; he also sings the end theme) more than verges on the homo-erotic and adds an extra element to the murderous deal they strike: they agree to kill each other’s relatives. The two men are featured on most of the publicity, rather than the image of a nubile young woman as in other films of this type.

The exquisite music of Luis Enriquez Bacalov greatly compliments this stylish thriller. Shameless really have done an exceptional job restoring director Maurizio Lucidi’s magnificent looking project. A reworking of Alfred Hitchcock’s ‘Strangers on a Train,’ this is certainly leisurely paced and could contain more in the way of suspense – and yet to me, it looks so good, and the relationship between the leads is so weird, anything else is secondary.

I quite enjoyed this rather heavy-handed giallo entry. The direction (courtesy of Enzo Milioni, who also wrote this) veers from beautifully capturing some incredible locations to ham-fistedly inserting close-ups clearly not taken from the scenes they then return to. The score, by Mimi Uva is a mixed bag too – some nice synthesiser sweeps and some less effective moments that occasionally end abruptly as we move to another scene.

In short, you could say ‘The Sister of Ursula’ doesn’t quite know what it wants to be. It is difficult to ignore the distractions of drug-addict Fillipo (Marc Porel, a drug user on both sides of the camera) and some hirsute sexploits, and concentrate on a meandering plot-line with too many characters.

Bad-tempered Ursula is played very well by Barbara Magnolfi. Magnolfi has expressed disappointment with the erotic nature of the finished film, believing it was to be more of a psychological drama. I can only agree really. Ursula’s sister is Dagmar (Stefania D'Amario), and the two siblings find plenty of reasons to squabble throughout.

And yet enjoy this I did, with reservations. It’s not in the top tier of giallo by any means, but the performances and especially the choice of locations are breath-taking. Equally, there is a certain dream-like atmosphere during many of the latter moments.