Film Reviews by NP

A husband and wife buy a weathered old house in a remote part of Scotland. You won’t believe this, but they hear strange noises during the night – noises they initially put down to ‘being in a strange house’. Familiar the story surely is, but this is better told than most.

The two main characters, Sarah (hugely impressive Pollyanna McIntosh) and Lee Williams as Ed (who is a bit of idiot) are realistic and have a genuine chemistry. As with real life couples, you do wonder why one puts up with the other, but they are believable. The isolated Scottish location is very creepy, and the production itself provides a real sense of growing unease that manifests itself well when the creepy noises are attributed to invaders real and brutal. As the estate agent warned, the land is the site of a gruesome battle between the Scottish and the English …

There’s a refreshing lack of the sort of jump-scares that have become standard in films of this nature, and the effects are all physical and therefore, real. No noticeable CGI here. And yet once the threats became tangible, my interest dwindled a little as events became typical slasher fare.

The ending is what caused raised eyebrows. Looking online, I am relieved my weren’t alone. SPOILERS – having been scared, chased, battered and tied up the couple are dumped – bloodied but otherwise unharmed – by a city centre. Their attackers have moved into the vacant house, and are enjoying a few pints with their families. It seems, going by a line of dialogue earlier, that the ‘English scum’ are responsible for the death of a family member, and so presumably all English are scared away from purchasing any properties in that area of Scotland. I wonder how McIntosh, who is Scottish herself, feels about this event. Running close to racism, I am surprised the makers of this otherwise enjoyable film decided to take this route.

Cult classic ‘Vampyres (1974)’ is reimagined here by Spanish writer and Director Víctor Matellano. Depending on which reviews you may read, the original was either a very good or a very bad exploitation film – certainly, it acted as a series of set-pieces fusing gory horror with erotica. As such, this is a pretty faithful remake. There is no hugely involving story here, and the plot-line is spread very thinly.

Whereas the original really created a mood, with filming taking place in autumnal England, here, such skeletal trees and crisp cold colours is swapped for sun-drenched Spain and as such, the doom-laden sense of cold isolation is somewhat muted. The sprawling forests and Lakeland is beautifully captured, however – the home owned by the bi-sexual vampire girls is stunning, but contains enough shadowy crypts and huge rooms to convince as a prison. It is here that they bring their unfortunate victims.

Caroline Munro (about whom the DVD extras talk of as some kind of connection with the original film due to her work with Hammer – even though the original was not a Hammer film) is mysterious as a doom-mongering hotel owner. Her part is so sketchy however, that I didn’t realise she was a hotel owner until the credits rolled. A red herring in fact, it is nevertheless nice to see her.

The two vampire girls are every bit as stunning and sensual as the originals. Donning black capes in the daytime, they flit across barren roads and woodlands. Almudena León is despatched before the end (or so it seems), leaving her partner, the captivating Marta Flich to carry on the carnal activities alone – until the ending, anyway. Vlich in particular is hugely memorable and seems ideally suited to such roles. Indeed, her striking features adorn much of the merchandising. And with good reason; she emerges as pretty much the star of the show.

This is a worthwhile remake, if you consider remakes worthwhile. Matellano has updated the erotic scenes with style, and provided some nice gory moments. If it introduces the film to an audience who would otherwise not be familiar with ‘Vampyres’, then its existence, as an entertaining modern Euro-horror is more than justified.

Alexia Fast plays Grace, a virginal, sweet, repressed girl who may or may not be in the possession of a demon. At first, her induction into college is trouble free, but what with hallucinations of death, feinting spells, nightmares and an inability to truly ‘fit in’ (despite her best efforts), she is soon taken back to her home, and her puritanical, purse-lipped grandmother who has long since been her Guardian. Poor Grace is barked at, shouted at, talked down to, bullied and ordered around against her will, before the inner evil she carries is let out in a climactic finale which exposes the reasons for the demon’s mission of retribution.

What sets this apart from virtually every other horror film I’ve seen is that everything is seen from Grace’s point-of-view: we are her eyes, we see first-hand how she is treated, we feel her pain. At first, this threatens to be a clumsy way of story-telling (the only times we actually see Grace is in her reflection in mirrors, the rest of Fast’s performance – apart from vocal – is the nervous ringing of her hands and fiddling with her dress to demonstrate unease), but very soon, we have become used to this painstakingly achieved way of telling a solid possession story.

The cast are great. Apart from the excellent Fast, there is Lin Shaye as the shrew of a Grandmother (herself an outcast from her fellow church-goers) and Alan Dale as Father John, the man ultimately responsible for all that is happening. His drowning in holy water is too mild a punishment for him.

The exorcism at the end, where effects come to the fore, still being shown from Grace’s POV, nearly lapsea into cartoon CGI, but manages to avoid that before an ‘Exorcist (1973)’-style denouement.

This American remake of the Japanese original exceeds expectations. A ‘troubled kid’ always sends alarm bells ringing – often they are written and portrayed in such a precocious way that invites deep irritation rather than sympathy. Despite plenty of opportunities to exhibit such behaviour, young David Dorfman as Aiden mainly manages to avoid this. His mother Rachel (Naomi Watts) is actually less sympathetic than he is. She is an abrasive character who is very difficult to warm to.

Luckily, ‘The Ring’ also resists being a ‘teen’ movie, despite opening with two adolescent girls talking about ‘this videotape … that kills people’. Before long, as coincidence would have it, one of the girls has succumbed to that very curse.

Overall, this is a good, spooky remake of the 1998 film. It cultivates its own unique brand of horror. Often shot in cold colours, much use is made of creeping water, blurred photographs and the everyday city portrayed as an oppressive, menacing environment. While the idea of videotapes is suddenly archaic, it actually gives the oncoming horror a nostalgic, creepy feeling that, for example, a Blu-Ray just wouldn’t provide. The ‘subliminal’ imagery on the tape is also a very sinister, abstract series of events. You don’t know what it all means, but it certainly doesn’t look cheerful.

Gore Verbinski’s direction is very effective, building up a level of tension from less than obvious means. Views of tower-blocks, rain-swept streets and boxed-in people leading desolate lives help create an isolated world. Hans Zimmer’s wonderful musical score also promotes the notion of seclusion, with echoing piano minimalism, notes like raindrops. The central idea of Rachael hearing about a videotape that kills people, and then watching the tape and inviting Aiden’s father Noah (Martin Henderson) to watch it too, takes a lot of justification in logical terms and questions her intelligence. I’m not happy with the lack of explanation of this. Does she do this deliberately? In horror, stupid people do stupid things.

The impenetrable images on the tape are shadowed throughout the film, providing a certain, slowly unravelling degree of clarity. And yet it isn’t until the troubled Samara (Daveigh Chase) is mentioned, an adopted girl with deadly psychic abilities, who seems in spirit, to be responsible for the doings of the curse, do Aiden’s ‘troubles’ become clearer - he has a kind of kinship with her.

The standout scene, the moment the whole film has been leading up to, is a true classic horror moment. It’s more spectacular than the scene in the original, but more or less retains the intimacy of Samara’s singular mission: she’s coming for you. First out of image of the well, then – blurred and the image fracturing – towards the television screen; then, impossibly through the screen and into reality. It’s a blisteringly good moment of pure horror.

This is a film that revels in its very low budget: Doctor Marlowe’s (Christopher Lee) quarters are cramped, tatty and cluttered, the location filming is frequented by only a handful of extras and the effective soundtrack is performed by a tiny ensemble. These are not complaints – such things enhance the intimacy of what is one of the most faithful and entertaining filmic adaption of RL Stephenson’s ‘Strange Case of Dr Jekyll and Mr Hyde’ novella.

Two things marred any potential success this may have had upon release. To begin with, Stephen Week’s production was intended as a 3D release, but the process was abandoned mid-filming. This lends many scenes a curiously fluid movement which again enhances its uniqueness. Secondly, the central character of Jekyll/Hyde was renamed Marlowe/Blake – although all other supporting characters have names taken from the book. Probably this was due to Amicus’ concerns that audience confusion would otherwise arise between their film and Hammer’s upcoming ‘Dr Jekyll and Sister Hyde’.

And yet, there is a top-notch cast. Peter Cushing joins Lee as Utterson, Richard Hurndall as Lanyon, Susan Jameson as patient Diane and Mike Raven provides his best horror performance as Enfield. Yet it is Lee as the kind but starchy Dr Marlowe who steals the show. His descent into the initially mischievous Blake, with the death’s head grin and increasingly macabre sense of frivolity is terrific, despite the unconvincing hairpiece. He becomes frightened of the increasing power of his unsightly alter-ego in a tremendous scene in a leaf-strewn park. His earlier blurred-faced attack on a young girl in the street is surprisingly sinister. There is a finely balanced sense of sympathy/danger about Blake that is skilfully conveyed and carried through to the violent finale.

Why is it seemingly often necessary to make the characters in slasher films so collectively objectionable? Laurie (Danielle Lilley) is pouting because drippy new husband Hugh (Brandon Kyle Peters) has invited their idiotic friends to their new house when ‘she hasn’t finished unpacking yet.’ This follows a promising pre-credit scene where an unknown photographer is exploring the grounds of the neighbouring abandoned boarding school and finds a sinister face-mask in the basement and instantly gets garrotted. The hope is that the same thing happens to this current gaggle of pearly-toothed airheads. This isn’t anything to do with the acting, it seems a deliberate policy to make these characters precocious cyphers it is impossible to care about.

Happily, it isn’t long before these fey wannabe hooligans find the boarding school and casually trash it, not for any particular reason. After all, why would they need to justify their actions? The communal view is that they’ll be able to take some impressive photographs there.

Less happily, it isn’t long before the house-warming party gives even more of these imbeciles an excuse to shock us by talking about drugs and finally letting lose those hormones. It is annoying that so much time is spent with these people, with Laurie and Hugh’s tedious arguing, with the Harmony (Kelly Kilgore – what a fitting surname the actress has) the hippie girl’s LSD induced chantings in the abandoned house, when within that house is The Blood Widow herself. We never see her true face, never really know her motives, but she is a wonderful creation, and instantly more interesting than the rest of the characters put together.

As the killings begin and prove to be impressive, and the Blood Widow of the title even more so, it is amusing to hear Hugh promise that he’s ‘going to get my cross-bow and get my f*****g girl back’, with all the venom of a cream horn.

We don’t learn a huge amount about the Widow (Gabrielle Ann Henry), other than she’s a wronged pupil at the boarding house, which is a shame as she looks great, in the mask and leather costume. She even has the good grace to relieve Laurie of her jeans for the final scenes. She either lives a normal life (which we know nothing of) outside the mask, or merely exists in this ramshackle building, hiding in shadows to wait for any wary passer-by. {SPOILER} Despite a plucky effort, last survivor Laurie is despatched during the pacy finale in a protracted death scene, after the film genuinely leads us to believe Laurie has destroyed her. Blood Widow Lives, a sequel, is in development, and I hope next time she has – Laurie’s last minute resolve aside - more inspiring company.

Probably the most unfortunate aspect of this film is that the first few scenes give away what becomes the entire story-line. {SPOILERS} In an asylum full of insane killers the world does not care about, a ‘Harvester’ visits at specific times to claim their souls. This is revealed by the very impressive realisation of the Harvester, the fires of Hell burning from its eyes. The rest of the running time is filled with the new Doctor, James Bishop (Matt Stasi) coming to this apocalyptic conclusion – slowly finding out what we already know.

That isn’t to say the journey isn’t entertaining. The enigmatic, cool, calm and collected Doctor McCourt (Bruce Payne) and his demonic nurse Helen (Tracy Scoggins) are terrifically creepy in their roles. A word too for Lauren (Julia Lee), Bishop’s cheerful fiancé, never seeming to realise anything is wrong despite the obvious strain her other half is under.

This is good, low-budget fun, containing few surprises, that allows you to ‘go with it’, with a few moments of effects and gore. I particularly enjoyed the notion of escape attempts being referred to as ‘patient indiscretion’. There is some briskly mentioned nonsense about The Harvester being unable to return to whence he came without a soul, so when Bishop makes his escape, the impressive creature has to claim his servant McCourt instead, which seems a little impractical … you might think.

Britt Nichols plays Luisa Karlstein who visits her terminally ill mother. Rather coldly, the rest of the family appears to have turned up simply to stand and watch as the ill old Baroness succumbs to death. With her dying breath, she tells her daughter of a family curse.

Even before this reveal, a number of ongoing, gruesome murders have been occurring. Nubile young women, often in a state of undress, have been spied upon and are then killed by a clearly female vampire.

As always for Jesus Franco films, such story-line as there is meanders greatly with protracted scenes of women in jeopardy, and enlivened by ongoing scenes of softcore sex – here, Karlstein reveals her lesbian tendencies in a number of scenes which have no bearing on the wafer-thin plotline. This is usual for such films, as is the stunning leading lady – Nichols continues the tradition of delights such as Lina Romay and Soledad Miranda, but doesn’t seem to attracted the same level of attention. This may be because her appearance bolsters a film that is otherwise desperately uneventful and dull.

Even the eroticism here is … odd. There is a routine in which a ‘dancer’ (prior to her murder, of course) simply rolls around on the floor in a bar. It is red lit, so she is clearly performing an act (as opposed to suffering some fit). People watch in stony silence, she rolls around some more, smiling. Then, she stands up and they applaud! Why? It is only shocking because she wasn’t escorted out of the place by an ambulance crew. Where is the exotic eroticism of ‘Vampyros Lesbos’ or ‘She Killed in Ecstasy?’ Whilst hardly polished films themselves, they did nevertheless escape the drudgery that fuels each dialogue-heavy scene here.

A constant delight with Franco films is the juxtaposition of horror set in beautifully filmed, exotic sun-kissed locations. Such visual conflict often works, but not so much here, for what panoramic views we get of Portugal (where this is filmed) are rare and the footage is often used more than once.

Back to whatever passes as a story, and it appears that the undead Count Karlstein (Franco regular Howard Vernon, robbed of dialogue here) is in fact Dracula himself. He doesn’t contribute a huge amount. In fact, his two scenes involve simply rising from his coffin, watched by a horrified Luisa, shortly before she too becomes a vampire.

What begun as an interesting idea soon became a chore for the cast and crew (and for the audience), it seems, as no effort is made to make any of the events entertaining or horrific or even particularly sexy. One point in its favour – we are treated to many brave close-ups of teeth baring fangs. Brave because, such close-ups invite scrutiny, and the fangs are very realistic – something the otherwise superior ‘exploitation’ film-maker Jean Rollin couldn’t always get right.

This story is quite simply ‘The Blair Witch Project (1999)’ featuring Bigfoot. The similarities go beyond simply ‘found footage’ – we never get to see the monster, but see evidence of its activities hanging from trees. The location is very similar to the woodland featured in Blair Witch and appears to be filmed at the same time of year (lots of crisp sunlight stretching shadows over fallen leaves).

To begin, a deer hunter is killed and taken by a huge animal in the Alabama Woods. Five years later, his son Chris (Chris Copeland), dripping with a lust revenge, determines to travel to the location and track down the animal. (“It’s something I gotta do. I need to do it for myself, so,” says Chris at one point. Why do people end sentences with ‘so?’) Lucky for him the deer his father regularly killed don’t take the deaths of their number so personally.

A handful of his friends insist on accompanying him on this hazardous trip, and soon they are interviewing locals, all of whom have stories about Bigfoot, including the manager of a guitar shop, who knows of a man who lives deep in the woods. The band of hopeful film-makers then attempt to track the man down. He’s not pleased, and doesn’t wish to be filmed, but agrees to talk with them. My favourite bit is when the man says – as he’s being filmed - ‘The camera’s off, right? Make sure it stays that way.’

One gets the impression the cast were invited to improvise as their stay in the forests becomes more fraught. It is well intentioned, this update of a film that is 15 years old, but in all honesty it just isn’t really very well acted, and not frightening. People shouting and arguing over something it becomes clear we are never going to see (apart from a blurred shape behind a tree in photographs) becomes very dull viewing.

[SPOILER] One interesting moment occurs mid-way through the end credits where we see Copeland ringing a bell to attract the local Bigfoots to the dead bodies, explaining how he’s managed to survive his isolated existence in such deadly woodland for so long.

Sound effects technician Gilderoy travels to Italy to work on what appears to be a horror film. Revered producer Giancarlo Santini (Antonio Mancino) waves a dismissive hand at the term: “It isn’t a horror film, it is a Santini film.” Although the credit titles to this unspecified film actually form what appear to be the titles to ‘Berberian Sound Studio’, we never really know how the lurid sound effects are used.

There are plenty of close-ups on ravaged vegetables, cut, splattered and sliced to emulate brutal sounds. Toby Jones’ sensitive and insular Gilderoy is subject to increasing rudeness as the film progresses, from just about everyone around him. He speaks softly. He writes and received affectionate letters to his mother back home.

Silvia (the terrific Fatma Mohamed) warns Gilderoy about Santini, who has apparently molested her. His missives to his mother become less affectionate, the body of the text concentrating on local mishaps and animal killings rather than loving pleasantries. Strangest of all, relentlessly seeking a ticket refund for his flight to Italy from disinterested staff, Gilderoy is told that the flight never really existed.

Music (and some of the sonic effects, I imagine) is by Birmingham band Broadcast, who have added the soundtrack to this stylised film to their growing discography. Vocalist Trish Keenan sadly died suddenly whilst working on the album.

Towards the end, the film seems to wilfully impenetrable, projecting weirdness for the sake of it - possibly echoing Gilderoy’s addled mind, who knows? And to be honest, who cares? ‘Berberian Sound Studio’ starts off in an unorthodox way, which is promising, and seems to be going in an assured direction – but just ends up getting more strange, promising to deliver something, but never actually doing so. Only the relentless bullying of Jones’ well-played character makes any real impact, because he is (mostly) so impassive and the perpetrators of such ill-manners are so complacent in their behaviour. Other than that, as Gilderoy becomes more integrated in what is going on around him, we lose any connection with him. And then the film ends, leaving the audience wondering what they have just watched, despite the obvious talent on display.

In this Peruvian horror, a group of students (don’t fret – they are quite a likeable bunch) decide to film ‘reaction videos’ as they watch a legendary old film located in the archive room of an old cemetery. Emerging as a kind of cross between ‘The Ring’ and The Blair Witch series, their viewing releases a curse that causes all kinds of carnage.

This would have been so much more effective if the makers had resisted the temptation to abandon subtlety in their otherwise interesting scares. The shrieks and wails are turned up high, the scars are deep and the blood runs plentifully, and sadly, when possessed characters rise up and float around, the result is an unsteady mix of the ‘exorcist-style’ and the blatantly absurd.

The performances are never less than very good, with Mario Gaviria’s mischievous Benjamin emerging as possibly the most memorable (certainly the most playful), although Daniella Mendoza certainly makes the most of Carla, who as a character, is someone to keep a careful eye on.

The familiar shaky cam is used to good effect here, and the locations are dark and sombre, with only occasional moments (like the CGI moving statues) lapsing into cartoon incredulity (again, more subtle techniques may well have been less intrusive). A very interesting, if flawed addition to the found footage genre.

Borrowing themes from other sources has never been a problem for me; ‘Darkest Day’ is clearly influenced by British 2002 zombie classic ’28 Days Later’.

The first thing that struck me about this, after its fast-paced, gruesome opening, is the very flat acting on display from most of the cast. Although one gets used to the stilted delivery, it is still a stumbling block – and sadly, two of the main players Dan (Dan Rickard) and Sam (Chris Wandell) are the worst offenders. Most of the other characters are reduced to merely a few words here and there, which may or may not be a good thing. The exception is Samantha Bolter’s Kate, who is excellent, believable and far more ‘there’ than her somewhat two-dimensional colleagues.

When researching this film online, however, many of the cast are also active behind the scenes. Richard Wilkinson (James) also composed the music, Simon Drake (Will) is a second unit director and camera operator. Most prolific is Dan Rickard, who co-wrote and directed, provided digital effects and editing (as well as providing some special effects for ‘The Dead (2010)’ and ‘The Dead 2: India (2013)’).

The story features Dan, who wakes up on Brighton beach, with no memory how he got there. He soon realises the world is awash with ‘the infected’ (the word ‘zombie’ is only used in the credits at the end), and becomes reluctantly taken in by a group of young people lead by physically intimidating Sam (nick-named ‘Arnie’ at one point). These people spend their days getting endlessly drunk, going on occasional shopping sprees, and only leaving their seaside-town home once the military discover their whereabouts and take more than a passing interest. A bond almost forms between rivals Sam and Dan as the latter, who realises the military are specifically looking for him (he was infected, but appears to have been cured), volunteers to lead the soldiers away from the group, resulting in a low-key but very effective ending.

Occasionally the violently shaking camera becomes a little heady, but visually, the film looks terrifically bleak, making great use of the seafront location and economically relaying how run-down the world has become, with sparing use of overturned cars, smashed windows and forlorn streets. The Infected, although little more than bloodied performers, are persuasive in their intent; shrieking and moving at speed (and there are LOADS of them) and create the most tense scenes.

Rumoured to be budgeted at £1,000, my initial misgivings about ‘Darkest Day’ soon became overcome with admiration that the project is as good as it is.

Married writer Blake Blackman (Steve Daron) and his difficult-to-impress partner, illustrator Angelica Santoro (Guisela Moro), who are having an affair, retreat to a remote cabin in the Appalachian Mountains in order for Blake to commence work on his latest book. The location is beautifully photographed and so stunning, their dog Brandy decides to spend more and more time away from the couple, exploring.

Nights spent in the remote log cabin, with the fireside blazing and lashing of the rain outside – it all sounds idyllic. Only the occasional glimpses of ragged, ghost-like children and Blake’s looming deadline threaten to ruin things. Angelica disappears after discovering she is pregnant, kidnapped and held hostage (alongside two ‘missing’ children) by a hillbilly couple residing in the nearby run-down town. The police suspect Blackman of killing her, despite the real kidnappers being such stereotypical inbreeds. The lawmen are stubbornly lackadaisical, even when Burt Reynolds turns up as Seagrass Lambert, whose grandson has disappeared.

Despite the disappearance of a number of children, it is only after Blake harangues the inactive police force that they make any investigations at the home of the two outcasts. By this time, the imprisoned Angie is heavily pregnant and there’s a growing uncertainty regarding her safety. This tenseness comes very late on in the film. Everything takes so long – Blake’s investigations, the delayed action of the police, the lack of horrific incident all conspire to make this a pretty drawn-out experience: at almost two hours, ‘The Haunting’ long outstays its welcome. A shame, because things could have been tense if 30-45 minutes was shorn from the running time. The idea of spirits of children helping Angie is a nice one, as is the race for time toward the end – but we spend so long getting there, and indeed the finale stretches so long, that any real tension is frittered away.

Initially, I was surprised this was made as early as 1961. Its graphic content, misty Cornish locations, promotional features picturing a lurching zombie, and lurid title seemed more like a production from in early 1970’s (Sergeant Cook is played by Kenneth J. Warren, known for 70’s horror flicks ‘I, Monster’ and ‘The Creeping Flesh’). As such, I’m surprised it made such little impact.

Also surprising is the fact that the lead character is actually called Doctor Blood (Peter Blood, played by Kieron Moore). Horror veterans Hazel Court stars as Nurse Helen and Paul Hardtmuth is briefly seen as Prof. Luckman, both actors previously having starred in Hammer’s ground-breaking ‘Curse o0f Frankenstein (1957).’ One of the cameramen is no less than Nicholas Roeg, who went on to direct horror classic ‘Don’t Look Now (1971)’ amongst other things.

Dashing Irish actor Kieron Moore plays Blood, a character tailor-made to be the hero of the piece, but turning out to be the crazed villain. He’s very good, especially considering he is playing against type. Also, the contrast between sunny, beautiful Cornwall and Blood’s unwholesome experiments is effectively realised.

More reminiscent of films of this period (especially the more mannered Hammer entries), however, are that the shocks are reserved strictly for the final act, where the magnitude of Blood’s delusion is given free reign. Up until then, we have an engaging enough drama, with Court in particular keeping the interest alive – sadly free of scares until the finale, which is great, but too brief.

Bad’uns, living in a run-down part of Michegan, dreaming of surfing in California – Rocky (Jane Levy), Alex (Dylan Minnette) and loud-mouth Money (Daniel Zovatto) make a living from committing small time robberies. Smoking pot, using expletives and sex jokes in front of minors, including Rocky’s little sister Diddy, the three ruffians decide to improve their shambling lives by robbing a house owned by blind war veteran Norman Nordstrom (Steven Lang) with $300,000 and a big, slobbering dog.

The money is compensation he received following the death of his daughter, who was run down by wealthy Cindy Roberts (Franciska Törocsik). Nordstrom is devastated and bitter that she should be let off her crimes so lightly.

I love films that present a ‘world within a world’ - that is, an isolated utopia hidden in plain sight: Norman’s home, which he rarely leaves (as established early on), is a dark sprawling private hell personalised to his needs and advantage. Outside, the sun shines and life continues. Inside, anything can happen, and no-one may ever know. When the three would-be robbers enter this world, it isn’t long before one of them (Money, I’m glad to say) is despatched. For Rocky and Alex, trouble is only just beginning …

Scenes often begin with blurred shots or extreme close-ups that obfuscate the new perils the characters find themselves in, revealing every desperate detail with an agonising (and deliberate) slowness. Writer/Producer/Director Fede Alvarez is clearly a name to look out for. ‘Evil Dead (2013)’ composer Roque Baños’s wonderful music score is exceptional also, a collection of moody, occasionally screeching instrumentation that really sells the growing unease. The discovery of Cindy Roberts, bound, gagged and pregnant, is shocking. She took away Norman’s child, so he thinks it is only right she provides him with a new one. Except her death whilst trying to escape with Rocky, puts that idea to rest.

‘There is nothing man cannot do once he accepts the fact there is no God,’ says heavily armed Norman shortly before attempting to artificially inseminate Rocky using a turkey baster in a bid to replace once again, he hopes, his murdered child.

His plans foiled by Alex, and disorientated by the alarms, Norman fires randomly all around him, blowing a hole poignantly in a photograph of his daughter’s smiling face.

I generally prefer independent horror films, often preferring them to bigger budgeted, more diluted mainstream offerings. This is hugely enjoyable, and very tense. There are no heroes, no-one without flaws, just wronged people. Someone online described ‘Don’t Breathe’ as a heavily expanded variant of the Buffalo Bill segment of ‘Silence of the Lambs (1991)’, which is a pretty good synopsis. It is good to see this doing well in the commercial arena; I wish more managed to gain such attention.