Film Reviews by NP

The story begins as we meet a flustered paramedic Steve (Barry Thomas), level-headed Jay (Kris Tearse) and Sarah (Ruth King), who opens the film as the distraught daughter of a man clearly infected by zombie-type virus.

This is very low-budget, but Director Rhys Davies ensures it tells a story well within its means – although sometimes the blood-streaked heroes are difficult to differentiate from the equally blood-streaked walking dead. The setting is suitably drab and claustrophobic, and this doesn’t open into anything wider until the very end, when we are introduced to the extent of the infection.

There are enough twists in the storyline to keeps things moving. In true ‘Night of the Living Dead’ fashion, even those who do everything right to escape their situations fail to succeed. There are some convincingly gruesome effects.

I really enjoyed this. The main thrust of the project seems to be that there is no hope, no hope at all. Although some scenes are interspersed with the end credits offer a crumb of positivity. But don’t get too optimistic.

This slowly unravelling story features a typically intense performance from Ethan Hawke (as Detective Bruce Kenner), and features UK actors David Thewlis (Professor Kenneth Raines) and Emma Watson as the shy young victim at the centre of it all Angela Grey. It is written and directed with great, gloomy, foreboding flair by Alejandro Amenábar.

The cast are excellent, which is just as well during the early stages of ‘Regression’. This first act looks great, but could uncharitably be described as ‘a lot of people standing around talking.’ This is a necessary price to pay if you are to appreciate and fully understand the twists and turns events subsequently take.

The lack of traditional jump scares indicates this is intended as a subtle, thinking person’s horror and as such, works very well. Grey’s burgeoning friendship with Kenner is charming and you feel pleased she is beginning to see an end to the traumas she has been put through. She is very easy to sympathise with, as Grey discovers. And yet it is a mistake to take anything at face value, because in true demonic possession style, things are not always as they seem.

Despite being top billed, Watson isn’t in this a whole lot, and yet events circle around the character of Grey. Watson has become a somewhat controversial figure, with some questioning her talents as an actress and others lauding them. It is difficult to know why this is. Perhaps it is because she uses her platform to highlight women’s rights; perhaps it is simply because she is educated and successful beyond acting; perhaps it is because she seems successfully to have progressed from child star to adult actress. Or perhaps I am easily pleased (who cares, really?) – I find her quietly impressive here; she holds her own amidst some exemplary performances.

Is this a perfect film? Not really - it could have benefitted from losing 10 minutes of run-time, and it needn’t have taken quite so long to get going. Also, the final twist could have been given more gravitas. But ‘Regression’ is a very solid, expertly produced mystery and I enjoyed it.

The tale of Ebenezer Scrooge is my favourite of all Charles Dickens’ works, and I think, my favourite Christmas story too. I rate this as the best filmed adaption of the book. No punches are pulled in the horror of it all – squalor, sickness, biting snow, poverty, even the rampant toy display longingly stared at by Tiny Tim (Glyn Dearman) in the shop window is a sinister sight: there’s little comfort in the chuckling mannequins and clown-faced dolls.

One of the issues I have with some adaptions is the saccharin attributes poured on the various versions of Tiny Tim. It isn’t enough he is a cheerful lame boy destined to die - for some producers, his sweetness has to be laid on with a trowel. Not so much here, gladly. It is entirely possible to sympathise with his plight without feeling nauseous, although some of the Cratchett family’s delight in simple pleasures threaten to overload the sugar coating at times.

A second issue I have concerns Scrooge himself. This adaption is also slightly guilty of this: Scrooge’s miserable meanness is given scant attention. He sees off a couple of charity workers and a debtor and that’s about it. I wish we had been given more of his latter-day nastiness – as it is, we’re soon given Michael Hordern’s exceptionally creepy Ghost Of Marley and Scrooge’s repentance begins. His self-doubt and burgeoning goodness would mean so much more if he’d been shown to be a cruel, miserly old man for longer.

But what do I know? Alistair Sim is exemplary in the role, adding touches of humour to Ebenezer, even at his meanest – and perhaps if he had been too cruel, we’d find it harder to forgive him. Sim’s is the definitive Scrooge. His words of admonishment to Bob Cratchett for wanting ‘the whole day off’ on Christmas Day are pertinent even in 2018, and what a disgrace that is. Employees often aren’t given the choice about working on December 25th, for fear of lessening the yearly company profit, and that shows no sign of changing. At least Scrooge has the decency to be miserable about it.

Some good horror veterans adorn this. Michael Hordern, Miles Malleson, Carol Marsh, and ‘Doctor Pretorious’ himself, Ernest Thesiger has a disappointingly brief appearance as Marley’s obsequious Undertaker.

This is a beguiling, atmospheric adaption, with an amazing central performance from Sim and is recommended viewing any, or even every, Christmas.

This Jess Franco tale of demonic nuns and graphic debauchery makes a good stab at portraying period costume and detail. It also boasts another fine performance from Anne Libert (as Kathleen), and an unusual and enjoyable score from Jean-Bernard Raiteux which does a lot to sell the mood of the piece, as does the director’s usual fine eye for locations.

Other than that, this is an often ponderous venture that dashes between sex-scenes and torture. It doesn’t engage much, despite some strong performances (Howard Vernon features sparingly, but is typically strong. Incidentally, I wonder if he always dubs himself for foreign sales of Franco films, because the voice used has an uncanny resemblance to his own timbre). Whereas ‘The Bloody Judge (1970)’, which has similarities with this, had the towering charms of Christopher Lee as a central character with some depth, this has neither. It does have Britt Nichols, who is excellent as Margaret, especially towards the end.

It is enjoyable, just rather dull. Designed possibly to cause a stir similar to Ken Russell’s ‘The Devils (1971)’, this seems content to attempt to shock by mixing Franco’s familiar perversions in religious trappings. This isn’t quite a historical horror movie as, despite its title and premise, delivers nothing much in the way of horror. The gore is somewhat muted, but perhaps this is because I am watching one of several cuts of ‘The Demons’. Running at 79 minutes, this version might have had some of the stuffing taken out of it, although in the latter part of the film, events take on a fittingly demonic turn!

Not Franco’s best then, but certainly worth watching.

I enjoyed this a lot more than I expected to. When the accompanying blurb tells of a family that moves into a house with a frightening past, fears arise of a certain degree of predictability and series of events that have been used time and time again.

In all honesty, ‘Haunt’ doesn’t exactly push the envelope to escape the limitations of the format, but what it does, it does well. The family are fine, intelligent and believable. The story, however, belongs to Evan, the son, and Sam, the girl he finds alone in the woods nearby. Harrison Gilbertson and Liana Liberato are attractive, appealing leads. Their prominence does however ensure other family members appear under-written. The youngest daughter Anita (Ella Harris), for example, shows signs of spectral communication with whatever presence is in the house, but this comes to nothing. Eldest daughter sensible Sarah (Daniella C. Ryan) is largely superfluous.

A crystal radio is used to perform a séance. This might be the most effective part of the story. When static-fuzzed voices and noises begin coming through this vintage machinery, the effects are chilling.

Other than that, ‘Haunt’ is a slow-burning, often character-based story that hots up towards the end, providing an unexpected climax.

This will not be for everyone. Shot entirely on Kodak Super 8mm negative film stock, it is clearly a very low budget venture featuring no big names, no real special effects, and the goriest moment (by far) is when the character Aidan guts and fillets a fish he has caught.

The mention of ‘five friends’ in a production can often mean teens of indiscernible age, horny, stoned; a series of walking clichés: a stupid one, a sexy one, a cool one and so on – and you wouldn’t be given much of a chance to like or care for the fate of these people. With Aidan, Tess, Mel, Dean and Nick, you can forget all that. They are all played very naturalistically (ie: no endless posturing) and as an audience member, I would actually be happy to spend time in their company. This is such a simple, seemingly obvious ‘thing’ to get right in any fiction, it is incredible that the vast majority seem deliberately to get it so wrong. If you like the characters, you care when things happen to them.

The problem for some is that not a lot does happen to them. But that’s fine: not every haunting has to come with cacophony of familiar blank eyed ghost children and spooky voices. What does happen to them, happens very slowly. But that’s okay: not every possession has to occur at such high-octane high speed that the perceived attention-span of the audience has not to be allowed breathing space.

I really enjoyed this. Director/Writer Scott di Lalla uses the elements he has at his disposal to very good effect – a small, talented cast and a photogenic house in an interesting location. ‘I am Zozo’, or it’s other (very common) title ‘Are you There?’ won’t change your life, but for a slow-burning, unspectacular chiller, it is recommended.

This is a revenge/slasher film with a difference. It is a very strange series of events presented in a deceptively straightforward way. Why do a group of well-groomed young men lure young blonde girls into a forest and murder them? It is implied they killed the parents of Veronica (Abigail Breslin, who was 16 when this was made). It is also implied they killed the wife and daughter of William (Wes Bentley), who becomes a surrogate parent to Veronica. How did they get away with these, and other, murders when their activities are so blatant and notorious and they make no effort to disguise themselves? Also, these high-class killers would surely have been nothing more than children when they killed Veronica’s parents.

Why does William take the trouble to manipulate Veronica by training her to be an efficient killer in order to despatch these lads when he could just as well do the deed himself, or simply inform the police? Equally, the pack find nothing suspicious in meeting a young lady so naïve as to agree to a date with four young men she doesn’t know. As the audience, we are either not expected to wonder about such things, or the writers consider such questions unimportant.

The moody atmospherics of the piece distracts from the lack of details and gives a faintly surreal quality to events. The gang take time to get to know Veronica whilst sitting on rackety chairs and sofas in impressively backlit woods.

There are vagaries and elements that could have been explained more, and the pacing could have been more involving. But I don’t see these things as lapses or plot-holes, rather-more deliberate artistic decisions that stop the film from ever getting all ‘cosy’ or familiar in its telling. A choice has also been made to ensure this is gore-free, despite the expectations a film with this premise attracts. It is almost as if the production distances itself from the story being told. The results are pleasingly odd.

Many years ago, films like this were released during school summer holidays, a number of them starring Doug McClure. Here he plays, not unusually, a wise-cracking, cigar chomping devil-may-care physical leading man (trip financier David Innes) to Peter Cushing’s bumbling Doctor Abner Perry, or ‘Doc.’ Perry could be a close relative of Cushing’s Doctor Who, a part he played about ten years earlier in two Dalek-bothered films. It isn’t my favourite Cushing formula – he is such a talented, sensitive performer, but this smacks of ‘putting on a show for the kids’. Very enthusiastic, but perhaps could be dialled down a tad. Sweaty, sultry Dia is played by the incomparable Caroline Munro, a character who gives Innes a reason to come over all unnecessary.

The film is colourful and psychedelic and boasts a great showcase for ‘back projection’ to provide its special effects: actors in restrictive monster costumes lumber about in garish studio-bound foliage, and this image, enlarged, is played in the background of the leading actors reacting. This isn’t just reserved for the monsters – the spectacle of The Iron Mole, which transports our two heroes beneath the crust of the planet is achieved in a similar way.

The monsters themselves are a good example of their kind: you don’t know whether you want to run away from them or give them a hug. They rarely convince, but once you are used to the style of their depiction, they appear to get more impressive. An interesting line in telepathic communication helps bring many of them to life. Director Kevin Connor’s camera looms in on their open eyes to indicate mind control, snapping shut to suddenly curtail it. The monsters all have a uniform look about them, with extra detail signifying different species and rank – the ones who seem to be in control of everything certainly look the most impressive, swathed in dry ice and gurgling inhuman, guttural sounds.

Difficult not to enjoy, this was produced by Amicus (their final production) and based on the story by Edgar Rice Burroughs, it boasts an impressive, trippy soundtrack by Mike Vickers. The film performed well at the box office, proving an understandable fondness for this kind of monster adventure.

One minute, Eve is a neat and cute young lady, 21 years old and declaring her love for her boyfriend on a webcam, limiting herself to a life of marriage and children with wholesome beau Ronnie (Kris Kjornes). The next we see her as she is ‘now’ – chained and sweaty and bloody, in her underwear, a prisoner of Phil (Richard Tyson).

Eve overpowers the man and makes her escape, only to find the building is in too remote an area to get help. So she returns, finds Phil has other female victims scattered around, and takes him on an enforced tour of his other girls, all chained up and clearly part of a sex trafficking business. Perversely, the girls have become so conditioned to their environment, they are not happy to be freed, which threatens to make Eve’s mercy mission twistedly redundant.

And yet she perseveres. And while the 76 minutes are filled with their fair share of running around and screaming, Director José Manuel Cravioto ensures events are tight enough to pursue a build-up of coherence and tension, so that the twist at the end is satisfying indeed.

The acting is fine throughout, with Tyson giving Phil a measured quality that makes it understandable some former victims succumb to a form of Stockholm Syndrome. As this film’s ‘final girl’ Eve, Tina Ivlev puts in a fiery and intense performance. Not for one moment do you not believe in her. Recommended.

Two of the most self-satisfied, nauseating people you could ever wish to meet somehow chaperone introverted Alice to accompany them for a drunken weekend in an apartment by the sea. Quite why Alice (Eaoifa Forward) would wish to spend time with these people is my main issue with ‘The Hellion’. Most of the time, Carl and Lizzie are so caught up in each other that Alice may as well not even be there. When they do give her any attention, it is to try and intimidate her with tales of their apparently lurid sex life. Whilst Rachel Warren injects Lizzie (wehay! ‘Any hole’s the goal’, right?) with a modicum of sense, Dan Paton ensures that Carl is the most appalling character I remember seeing in a film for a very long time.

When these three characters appear to be trapped on the top floor of the apartment, it is a huge relief to see the smug grin disappear from Carl’s face, although inevitably, this is replaced by aggressive machismo upon realising there is something occurring outside of his control. It is one thing to be apparently trapped inside a building with no means of escape, but entirely a different level of misery being shut in with this inexcusable, spectacular moron. Imagine how much more shocking his descent into madness would have been if he was a likeable character – or maybe the point of the story is that the three characters are all damaged in some way.

My dislike of Carl throws a heavy shadow over what could have been a more effective film. The intentions of Director and Writer CA Cooper seem to be suggesting horror rather than show it – but that’s not to say we aren’t treated to some truly grotesque behaviour and close-ups. And yet the bigger picture is unclear, or as I’m sure Cooper would prefer, ‘open to interpretation.’ A nightmare attempt at arthouse perhaps, this peels back layers of apparent childhood abuse for the characters, or perhaps revelations of events that have previously occurred in the apartment. Or, as one piece of secret graffiti suggests, ‘this is Hell’.

The production looks great, with interesting techniques used to portray the empty rooms as something evil. Yet for three characters apparently trapped against their will – if it truly is against their will – they make scant attempts to escape. With an ‘open’ ending, ‘The Hellion’ could unkindly be written off as spending a miserable time with horrible people.

The 2010 remake of the original 1978 rape-revenge film has so far spawned two sequels. The first deals with a similar storyline with new characters, whilst this returns to the original victim Jennifer Hills (played by Sarah Butler). Now, several years on from her original appalling ordeal, she is calling herself Angela Ditrenka, is receiving therapy and still having fantasies about killing anyone who shows sexual interest in her. And for a while, such interest borders almost on overkill. Everywhere she goes, she is fondled, leered at, and subject to coarse and intimidating abuse.

And yet, the way in which writer Daniel Gilboy chooses to continue Jennifer’s story is to have her confront her relentless (and understandable) disappointment in so-called justice, is to carry out revenge attacks on men who rape other people. To this end, she attends a fairly useless victim support group; on hearing of others’ tragic circumstances, she takes revenge on their behalf. The problem with this approach is that, whereas in the first two films, we see the antagonists perpetuate their horrific acts and are therefore eager to have retribution inflicted upon them; in this film, we only hear about their felonies. Therefore, when Hills adopts the familiar theme of dressing up to ensnare the perpetrators and kill them, the structure of the story doesn’t fuel quite so strongly our eagerness to see grisly revenge carried out.

And yet, this slight misgiving is balanced out by the fact that the story is very good, and well told and acted. Butler is entirely convincing in a very intense role, and she is supported by a mainly very talented cast. There are enough twists and moments of gut-wrenching gore (although pretty brief) to keep things gruesomely entertaining throughout. The structure of the telling is very involving too, with us being led to believe one thing when another is actually the case.

It would seem this is the final entry into the franchise. Other than starting again, I’m not sure how Hills’ story can continue. I really enjoyed this and was kept guessing throughout. Delightfully, all the twists in the narrative are carefully hinted at all the way along – no matter how far-fetched certain moments may appear, they all make complete sense.

I’m surprised this hasn’t garnered more positive online reviews. Sadly, there are unhappy views presented so passionately that ‘anyone giving this a 9 or 10 must be involved in the movie making as it is really poor (sic)’. It goes without saying that that expressed sentiment is untrue and simply displays those reviewers’ precocious view that no-one is allowed to disagree with them.

Becca (Olivia DeJonge) and Tyler (Ed Oxenbould) are brother and sister. Whilst Becca is putting together a film which fuels ‘The Visit’ (found footage style), Tyler raps. If you can get through these little bursts of ‘talent’ (each rap ends with ‘…ho’) without punching yourself repeatedly then you may well find these two quite appealing. They spout dialogue beyond their years perhaps, but they exhibit little of the brattishness you may expect with two juvenile leads.

The two siblings are visiting their grandparents (Deanna Dunagan) and (Peter McRobbie) and observe them displaying bizarre and disturbing behaviour. Occasionally, this seems to be educating us that ‘old people are gross’ and reinforcing stereotypes that once you’re over 60, you’re senile and incontinent. But luckily, most of their behaviour is clearly portrayed as abnormal in an effective ‘horror-film’ kind of way.

There is, however, no real progression here. The grandparents behave oddly and the kids are scared. Then the grandparents behave normally and the kids come round to them. This repeats itself throughout, but because matters don’t go any further than that, the audience are continually placed back on square one.

Being an M. Night Shyamalan film, there is a twist. SPOILER – their grandparents are not their grandparents. They’re escaped lunatics. That’s right. We are supposed to believe neither Becca nor Tyler have never been shown a photograph of the two relatives they are to spend a week with.

The idea of a progressively unstable elderly couple seen through the eyes of young children could have been terrifying. But, apart from a couple of stomach-churning moments, it doesn’t quite make it. And why does it take the police so long to arrive?

By the time the end credits roll, another of Tyler’s raps – he’s dressed in baseball cap and gold chain, of course – 99% of an empathy you may have had for the character has well and truly disappeared.

This is a whole heap of grotesque fun, if you are in the mood for it. Comedy is virtually impossible to get right for everyone. And yet this fusion of body horror and overplayed humour is very enjoyable. I say ‘overplayed’ – that is not strictly accurate. Only the monstrous are encouraged to ‘heighten’ their performances – the townsfolk are allowed to play things fairly straight.

A small town is transformed into a zombie’s paradise by an unspecified meteor landing. First to be affected is Grant (Michael Rooker), brutish husband of heroine Starla (Elizabeth Banks), who undergoes a gradual, hideous but deliberately ridiculous transformation into the hive-mind, whereby all future infected people share his mindset. Conveniently, this means that when (what has become of) Grant is destroyed, all the others are too. But there is a whole horror-show to get through before that even becomes a possibility.

The numerous visual effects and their designers do an incredible job creating a convincing society descent into bloody chaos. Director and Writer James Gunn indulges his story with a growing sense of perversity – with truly appalling tragic moments accompanied by cheesy love songs which ensure we are never invited to take things seriously.

A haunted house can be very traumatic, but when it is ‘of Horror’ as well – you know you’re in for a bumpy ride. Sadly, that possibility is the scariest thing about this Tigon teen chiller.

Whilst the loose morals and superficial machinations of youthful Sixties’ ‘swinging London’ are engagingly handled, it seems an age before someone suggests going to ‘the old house’ to liven up a tepid evening’s entertainment.

American singing sensation Frankie Avalon is top-billed Chris, but is more of a supporting character to the excellent Richard O’Sullivan’s far more interesting Peter and Mark Wynter’s two-timing Gary – at least for the first two thirds of the 92 minute running time. The girls, who are either predatory or naïve, include Sylvia (Gina Warwick), Dorothy (Carol Dilworth) and Madge (Veronica Doran). George Sewell looks menacing as Kellett, and Dennis Price is wasted as the Inspector – a role originally envisaged for Boris Karloff (although given Karloff’s health during the late 1960s, it is difficult to imagine him in the role).

Director and writer Michael Armstrong fails to inject many scares into this, and typically of Tigon’s output at the time, the results could better be described as a fairly routine mystery than a horror (despite the premise).

Tigon films were prolific at the time. Their horror output occasionally resulted in some excellent productions, including ‘Witchfinder General (1968)’, ‘Blood on Satan’s Claw (1970)’ and ‘The Creeping Flesh (1973)’. Although the cast try their best, this is fairly standard runaround stuff which, instead of getting more intriguing as things roll on, actually becomes less engaging.

Anything written and acted by extreme performance artist David Hoyle was going to be an acquired taste. Given what appears to be a free reign, Hoyle’s eccentric ‘fly on the wall’ style takes a while to get used to, but is worth the initial trepidation. The trepidation being – at least in my case, watching this – you truly do not know what you are getting into.

So, what is this? A doomed love/horror story of Hoyle’s Uncle David and young, softly spoken Ashley, played by pornographic actor Ashley Ryder. It seems initially that the two men meeting for a break in a static caravan by the sea is little more than a platform for Hoyle’s philosophies on life, society and conformism. And then it becomes apparent that Ashley may well be dying. This appears to be treated with a calm assurance by the two, with Hoyle assuring Ashely of his ‘ascension into the stratosphere’.

Among Hoyle’s many profundities – some of which I whole-heartedly agree with, and others I do not (but who cares what I think??) – is the condemnation of ‘control freaks’ throughout society. And yet it appears that it is Uncle David who is gently persuading his young childlike ‘nephew’ that his imminent demise is a good, even beautiful thing; this is a powerful statement as he is orchestrating the passive Ashley into a mutually agreed suicide. Although having said that, Ashley has said that he wanted to die.

The location is beautifully used – the down-to-earth majesty of a British seaside town, with its stretching beach and horizons contrasting with the cardboard-like homeliness of the holiday home to allow for a fascinating backdrop. Whilst Ryder could be said to be underplaying his role, Hoyle is a captivating character. His viewpoints on, well, everything may be hard to hear at times, but they are never boring.

“The closer we are to oblivion, the happier we are.”