Film Reviews by NP

Centuries old vampires exist in the modern world. And that’s it, that’s the plot. The fascinating Tilda Swinton (Eve) looks exotic in a number of baroque outfits, Tim Hiddleston (Adam) plays a typically soft spoken goth, and John Hurt is the supplier who brings them superior blood – ‘the good stuff’ – for a special treat. The acting is terrific and very natural, convincingly portraying what life would be like if they really did live forever.

The look of the film is rich and lavish. Writer and director Jim Jarmusch is clearly in love with the concept. Very much like the earlier, rather more succint, ‘Kiss of the Damned (2013)’, the sedate pacing and uneventful lifestyle is interrupted by the arrival of the heroine’s unruly and precocious younger sister, Ava (Mia Wasikowska).

After watching Adam and Eve doing things really slowly, it is to be hoped that Ava’s inclusion would be something of a shot in the arm. Not to dispel their night-time sanctuary, but just to provide … something. After all, about the most eventful occurrence up until this point is when the electricity cuts during another airing of their surprisingly non-goth music. For her duration, Ava’s presence does exactly as it should – shakes the two old vampires up and disrupts the complacency that has marred the film up to this point.

My favourite character is probably Ian, the wheeler-dealer type. He’s a shadowy, shady ‘zombie’ (Adam’s contemptuous name for humans) and is enthralled by the rock and roll lifestyle these real ‘life’ goths adhere to. It is his demise at the hands of Ava that propels the couple, first to rid themselves of her (and therefore the interest she brings) and then to travel to Tangiers, where Eve was residing during the film’s opening.

There’s no doubt for me that Ava’s appearance makes things more interesting, but also has the effect of making me appreciate more the earlier, tranquil non-eventfulness of the story, and Adam and Eve’s understandable need for a return to that anonymity. Their story has quietly become compelling.

I rarely quote other reviews, preferring my opinions to emerge uninfluenced, but my favourite critique of ‘Only Lovers Left Alive’ is from Jessica Kiang of ‘IndieWire’, who gave the film a B+ grade, saying, "the real pleasure of the film is in its languid droll cool and its romantic portrayal of the central couple, who are now our number one role models in the inevitable event of us turning vampiric."

Beautifully filmed in some truly stunning rural locations (you can almost hear the dew dripping from autumnal branches), this tepid haunted house mystery features Ben (Ed Stoppard), his wife Rachel (Sophia Myles) and young son Harry (Isaac Andrews) relocating to a huge and remote country house following some difficult personal times.

As the scant ghostly noises in the night threaten to topple Ben into thinking his sanity is crumbling once more, the main thing that strikes me is how unlikable he is. Irritable and unreasonable, he treats his family very offhandedly, and comes across as exactly the kind of shallow, thoughtless bore I would cross the road to avoid.

A terrific supporting cast including Paul Kaye and Russell Tovey turn in very earnest performances, but sadly the script fails to come to life and remains pretty uninvolving. The problem is, these sinister characters are actually more likeable than Ben, as is sleazy Dominic (Greg Wise) who tries to strike up an affair with Rachel. Up until the last reel you almost wish she would go with him.

As a whole, it is the hero who sinks this unfrightening ghost story. Not that Ed Stoppard is a bad actor, but there is not one note of kindness or sympathy about him, and whether his manner is the result of his earlier breakdown, or whether he is actually correct in his intention to ‘protect’ his family, he severely tests our patience long before the end.

In the unnamed rural state in which this film is set, people have been going missing fairly regularly, for 24 years. Such a desperate situation seems to have become accepted, because there seems little effort, or counter-measures, put in place to stop this from continuing. Indeed, toward the end, when a very distressed battered young lady pounds on the door of a remote garage and begs for help, the shop assistant ignores her. So it is safe to say the town does not overly keen on helping itself.

As for the victims, the usual parade of energetically screaming, manicured pretty young folk are chained up in a farm shed, this time by an old man determined to sacrifice his victims to a monster in the cellar.

‘Everything is going to be okay, nothing is going to happen to you,’ the daughter or a millionaire is told, just as she is gagged and left in a ramshackle abandoned building. This is story strand number two. A wronged colleague decides to rob his rich employee, and with a small group, sets about kidnapping his daughter for a ransom.

The resurrection of the creature ‘Wormface’ raises the game considerably, breathing life into what is a fairly routine, if earnest, thriller. The placing of this unspecific creature into the unfolding events adds a new urgency and makes the betrayals and counter betrayals between the characters more entertaining. Also, Wormface does the things that ‘creatures’ do – walks in front of the camera, appears where none of the characters can see him, and always happens to be there and only too pleased to open up a few veins. There’s an element of ‘Jeepers Creepers’ about the scenario, but this tells its own story. As a whole, ‘Rites of Spring’ features a number of elements we’ve all seen before (including the occasional lapse of logic by the characters), but is a satisfying meeting of crime thriller and monster-on-the-loose mayhem.

The late David Bowie (I still can’t get used to using his name in a past tense) lends his voice to Giorgio Moroder’s heavily synthesised soundtrack to this remake of Val Newton’s 1942 original. Sadly, the music dates the production more than anything else.

At nearly two hours long, ‘Cat People’ takes a while to get going, and even when it does, it comes in fits and starts. Nastassia Kinski and Malcolm McDowell are superbly cast as a somewhat creepy brother and sister – Kinski managing to exude both a virginal and sultry air that attracts John Heard as hunky-but-bland zoologist Oliver Yates. More than once, the film threatens to become too brooding for its own good and stumbles into dullness. But as things roll on, as Kinski’s splendid Irena embraces her blooming sexuality, her brother Paul experiences a disappointing turn in his sex-life, indicating their sibling relationship polarizes aspects of each other’s lives – and things become infinitely more interesting (and graphic). The incestuous relationship between them was echoed by their parents, suggesting in-breeding as one reason for their heightened personalities.

The film comes full circle, with Paul and Aretha making their way across the surreal dusty, orange landscape that opened ‘Cat People’, towards a magnificent tree with its branches occupying resting black leopards. This scene brings with it a sense of surreality which acts as a welcome break from the comparatively unexceptional normalcy up until this point.

Unlike the original film, Director Paul Schrader is unable to resist actually showing the transformation between human and feline. It comes far too late in the story to carry any real frights, rather it emerges as a tragic inevitability, sowing the seeds of Aretha’s eventual, haunting fate. I think this is too slow moving to be truly great, but ‘Cat People’ remains an intelligent and enjoyable, sensuous fantasy.

Blacula.

In the opening to this film, William Marshall as Prince Mamuwalde visits Charles Macaulay’s impressive Count Dracula about suppressing the slave trade. Dracula is more interested in Mamuwalde’s wife Luva (Vonetta McGee), and when his advances are spurned, sentences Mamuwalde to vampirism and death to Luva. With a film entitled ‘Blacula’, and the mantle of ‘blaxploitation’ regularly directed at it, this kind of serious and violent opening was not what I expected. Only after the credits, and when things move from 1780 to the (then) present day, do we enter more familiar, somewhat expected territory.

William Marshall is EXCELLENT as the noble vampire. Literally towering above everyone else, he exudes charm, melancholy and – despite some over-the-top vampire make-up – rage and terror. Yet he resists the temptation overplay anything, something other Draculas could not manage. His attraction to the character Tina Williams is played absolutely for real and the audience is completely on their side, despite the growing number of vampiric ‘deaths’.

As with Blacula himself, the make-up on the vampires is (probably deliberately) heavy-handed, making them appear as green-tinged zombie-types when they could have been terrifying. But is that the aim of the film? Probably not – this prefers to settle for being a compelling supernatural comedy/thriller (although very much ‘of its time, the humour is held pretty firmly in check throughout) that aims to entertain, which it does.

Having said that, a few deaths stray happily into ‘shock’ territory, not least Blacula’s climactic demise. We aren’t glad to see the back of the reign of a tyrant, or even the killer he is, but rather sad, admiring of his nobility. One of my favourite Dracula actors. This is a fine film lifted by Marshall’s consistently brilliant performance. Luckily ‘Scream Blacula Scream’ was released a year later, presumably resurrecting Marshall’s character.

In Val Lewton films, there’s always at least one scene that sticks in the mind. ‘The Isle of the Dead’ features the awakening of a body buried in a casket, in the ‘Body Snatchers’, we have the unforgettable finale. Here we have several , including the increasingly distraught teenage girl returning home, pounding at the door of her home with her mother heartlessly refusing to let her in – followed by silence, and the spreading of a pool of blood beneath the closed door.

Charlie (Abner Biberman) is nice, he likes his big cat. It earns him a good living and he clearly adores it. Alongside the animal itself, he is ‘The Leopard Man’s most likeable character. Dennis O’Keefe is a good leading man. Sad-eyed Jean Brooks plays Kiki Walker. Only the maracas-playing Clo-Clo (Margo) annoys – her jealousy that the cat would steal her thunder and her teasing of the animal causes killings and other unfortunate events to spiral, yet she shows no sign of giving a darn – until she gets her comeuppance, that is.

The implication of a man/leopard hybrid is completely absent in the story – in fact the revelation the feline has been dead before some of the killings take place, and that the murderer is a mere human, is a little disappointing (only the trailer implied a lycanthropic plotline). It’s true to say this is not Lewton’s most effective production: the modern day setting is less suggestive of gothic flavour than other, period pieces. Having said that, he and Director Jacques Tourneur ensure there are some chilling set-pieces, my favourite being the sombre funeral procession, with murmuring, candle-holding mourners making their way across a barren, windswept studio set, led by black robed lamenters.

Opening with a promisingly bloody scenario of serial killer Henry murmuring his unstable anxieties into his slight collection of ‘worry dolls’, this film soon evaporates into comparative blandness. That’s the problem with strong beginnings – the rest has then got to match up.

Detective Matt who finally rids the world of Henry for some reason takes the ‘worry dolls’ with him in the back of his car. Why do something so unprofessional? So his young daughter Chloe can then inadvertently get hold of them, of course.

‘OMG, they’re so coowaal’, say the brightly smiling young things browsing ‘Chloe’s Collection’ where she exhibits these and other home-made charms. Sadly, the spirit of Henry, instilled into these novelty items, causes whomever owns them to lose their minds and kill their loved ones.

Chloe, who is afraid of dogs, stabs to death her family’s Doberman (why does the family keep such a pet if the daughter is afraid of them?). She then, Exorcist-like, descends into a blank-eyed trance. Hunky Detective Matt seeks the help of occultist Della who says that as the pure innocent, Chloe needs to be relieved of the dolls – even though they are no longer in her possession. Della is played by Tina Lifford, who invests the part with such weird intensity, she may well be the most interesting character in the film. A shame that her inclusion is such a brief one.

The rest of the cast, sad to say, including Christopher Wiehl as Matt (who co-wrote this) are not very interesting at all. It’s impossible to sympathise with the Detective, whose daughter is, after all, possessed, because there is scant personality there. Likewise other characters, including those who pick up the various dolls and are therefore doomed fail to ignite much feelings of loss. Also, the suburban blandness of most of the locations stifles any atmosphere. A competent thriller with a few gallons of blood thrown in for good measure.

In this standard comedy horror, three travellers make a forced landing on a remote island where they are met by Dr. Sangre (Henry Victor, playing Bela Lugosi - for whom the role was originally intended) and his servant Momba (Leigh Whipper). The two bland leads James and Bill (Dick Purcell and John Archer) are shown to their rooms, where manservant Jefferson (Mantan Moreland) is told he is to sleep in the servant’s quarters. When he protests, James confirms that he will do as he is told.

Jeff becomes acquainted with the hired help and becomes convinced the remote building is haunted by zombies.

‘Zombies? What’s them?’ ‘Dead folks that walks around.’

This is the kind of wide-eyed, knock-about light comedy fairly prevalent around this time. A haunted house mystery of sorts, featuring the blank-eyed dead. It is Moreland’s show really. Madame Sul-Te-Wan, playing Tahama, also invests her part with a convincingly unnerving sense of superstition. While the chisel-jawed American actors play adequate straight leads, their ‘subordinates’ are far more interesting and entertaining, although in-keeping with the one-note scares on display, are limited in their patter.

As shivering Jeff states towards the film’s close, ‘If there’s one thing I wouldn’t want to be twice, zombies is both of them!”

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.