Review Category: DVD/Blu Ray

At this point, when the word Pixar comes up on the screen, you accept that what you’re about to watch will be full of attention to detail in every aspect. With in-depth storytelling for the whole family, and ground-breaking animation, watching an instalment from this esteemed studio is always going to be an event. From Toy Story right through to Onward, they have a ridiculous track record that will inspire and influence all that choose to watch.

Set in the compact, and skyscraper-filled Manhattan, music teacher Joe (Jamie Foxx) finally gets his big Jazz break when he is offered the gig of a lifetime. However, as he lives in the glee of this opportunity, he accidentally falls through a manhole straight into purgatory where he crosses path with the seemingly grumpy 22 (Tina Fey). Within this dreamy land is where our story really begins to develop. The writers have Joe and 22 dive head first into a thought-provoking journey, one which will see them ask crucial questions about life, that will in-turn have a drastic effect on both leads. Bumping into well designed characters like Moonwind (Graham Norton) and Counselor Jerry (Richard Ayoade) to name just a few, and with an accurate version of Manhattan as its canvas, Soul is a success in every way you’d hope that it would be. Encasing this adventure, and enhancing Soul even further is a spot-on soundtrack from Trent Reznor and Atticus Ross.

For those looking for more Soul, you’ll want to view Astral Taffy and Not Your Average Joe in the bonus features section of the Blu-ray. The forward thinking crew behind the animation discuss how the unique atmosphere came together, while breaking down the dynamic characteristics of Joe. With a simple, yet life-altering moral, wrapped in the greatness that we now expect from Pixar, it’s no surprise as to why Soul is achieving a momentous amount of awards, while simultaneously being a perfect family voyage.

This scrappy black and white gangster flick from director John Lemont (Konga) mends classic film noir traits with ‘60s Brit film aesthetics into an action-packed racketeer thriller that captivates at a break-neck pace, but fails to rivet emotion due to dissipated drama and too many characters. After opening with a wonderful POV crawl through London, down Shaftsbury Avenue and Charring Cross Road, the script by Leigh Vance (The Black Windmill) unravels a piecemeal tale of how crime syndicates formed and functioned; casting London in noir-like darks and shades in shadowy bars, glitzy clubs, and dank Soho backstreets.

Herbert Lom plays crooked mob accountant Waldo Zhernikov, who plans to merge six London gangs into an all-encompassing criminal conglomerate. However, expanding protection rackets from pubs to construction firms is met with wider retaliation than anticipated. The collective, fronted by rugged Irish gangster Paddy Damion (Sean Connery), shirk corruption, double-crossing, and a Flying Squad inquiry that threatens to topple Zhernikov’s plan, while Damion makes enemies, falls in love, and contemplates conspiratorial conundrums.

The script skims through schemes, scenes, and dead-end subplots involving short-lived characters with too short amount of screen time. In terms of production, execution, acting, and atmosphere, The Frightened City prevails as a feisty neo-noir and fascinating snapshot of central London life, showcasing the old bleak beauty of Soho, punch-ups in rough pubs, and lush club/dance hall-based musical numbers. Alongside the urban underworld that, while since romanticised, once stoked fear, this makes The Frightened City a patchy but enthralling insight into sixties London crime life, with the air of those classic German and American film noirs that inspired it.

Amphibious creatures begin attacking the local lads and raping the women in this gloriously gory schlock horror from Roger Corman’s Roger Corman’s New Word Pictures.

In a small fishing village, tensions are frayed when a big cannery promises to open a plant there. While it may be good for the economy, the local Native American community feel it will destroy their land. One other small drawback is the way the company has pledged to increase local salmon supply has a side effect of creating human-size creatures that are set on propagating their species by procreating with the young ladies. Square-jawed Jim (Doug McClure, you may remember him from such films as Warlords of Atlantis) wants the factory, but doesn’t approve of the bully-boy tactics of beer-swilling loud mouth Hank (Vic Morrow, playing the racist developer role that he was so often pigeonholed). Meanwhile, the company’s scientist Susan (Ann Turkel) knows more than she’s letting on, and the town is getting ready to welcome thousands of visitors for their annual ‘salmon festival’; what could possibly go wrong? Well, rampaging fish-men for one!

Part-Alien, part-Jaws, and all exploitation, Humanoids from the Deep was a controversial film at the time of release. It was directed by Barbara Peeters, who provided the impressive gore but not enough sex for Corman’s liking, so reshoots involving rapey walking fish were added before the release. The luridness isn’t as shocking as it once was, although the copious nudity stands out as over the top when you’re more used to seeing the much-missed McClure battle rubber beasts in family-friendly flicks. With effects from Rob Bottin (The Thing) and Chris Walas (The Fly) you can’t go wrong and the creature design is very memorable in only the way a man-in-a-rubber-suit performance can be.

Blending eco concerns with the shocks, Humanoids from the Deep is a fun romp that doesn’t waste time on things like character development. 88 Films’ Blu-ray release contains an impressive retrospective ‘making of’ with many of the cast and crew (including Corman) having their say. A vintage clip of Roger talking about the film with Leonard Maltin is welcome, too. The often-silent deleted scenes are likely mostly from the reshoots as they are mainly more nude attacks. Two commentaries – one by Kim Newman and Sean Hogan and an infectious chat-track from Samm Deighan – are incredibly informative and well worth a listen. A great package for a film that holds a place in many an exploitation fans’ heart.

Imagine the crazy splatter-ness of Tokyo Gore Police, the steampunk aesthetics of Tetsuo the Iron Man, and the mid-transformation, flailing-tube dogs in The Thing and you may be half way there to visualise how OTT things are in Meatball Machine.

Yôji (Issey Takahashi) is a lonely menial worker who sits out on his lunch break watching a girl, Sachiko (Aoba Kawai). He discovers a bizarre, tortoise-like shell while walking near the dump one night, but unfortunately for Yôji, just as he is making headway with Sachiko, the object possesses her, turing her into a ‘Necroborg’, controlled by an alien parasite.

The plot here is as crazy as the visuals, but there’s a lot of fun to be had watching the various infected people battle it out in gory fashion. The cyberpunk imagery and sci-fi mythology add a silly but entertaining aspect to the proceedings, with the action cutting between the outside world and the little aliens controlling the battles inside the Necroborgs during the conflicts. Meatball Machine benefits by using mostly physical effects, which are not overly convincing but that adds to the enjoyment. There is a moment of ocular trauma so icky that it would have Lucio Fulci jumping with approval, though.

Meatball Machine is a recommended cult treat for horror fans who like their gore to be on the wild side. There’s a love story at the heart of the film, but don’t worry, it doesn’t slow the action down nor get in the way of the bloody onscreen massacre.

Release Date: April 12th. You can also win a copy here. 

Overshadowed these days by the popularity of giallo subgenre, Italian cinema was once the king of what was known as Eurocrime (or poliziottesco). Director Sergio Martino, now highly regarded for his entries into the former category, was also rather skilled in the latter too.

The investigation that kicks things off in Silent Action is the murder of a rich electrician. The prime suspect is the person who was seen visiting him on the night of his death, a high-class escort who is found with slit wrists. Her confession seems a little off and the enquiry links the death with a series of murders made to look like suicides.

Presented in the original language (a dubbed version is also available), Silent Action is a gripping, gritty, and quite nihilistic action film. There are some spectacular set pieces, and the opening montage is something else. Martino regular Mel Ferrer pops up as the DA, providing the compulsory Hollywood attraction. The movie is shot beautifully by Giancarlo Ferrando, but he suitably manages to keep an element of grit to the proceedings.

Luciano Michelini’s score is a thing of beauty on its own, which is why new boutique label Fractured Visions has included it on a CD that accompanies the features-backed limited edition Blu-ray. These special features are far from obligatory puff pieces. We get a real insight into the Italian politics that gave rise to reactionary cinema that was coming out of the country during the ‘70s. Couple these bonus items with a well-written and enlightening booklet and you have a release that is a must-buy for fans of Italian cinema. For those wanting to dip their toes into what the genre has to offer, it’s a nice place to start.

 Release Date: April 12th. You can win a copy here.

Sator is an uncomfortable watch, crafted over seven years by director Jordan Graham, it’s a low budget, slow burn affair. Large parts are hugely effective, with use of black and white 4:3 ratio mixed into the largely 16:9 colour film, and Graham’s real-life grandmother adding authenticity. However, it is a film that disturbs rather than engages, and one you would likely not return to.

Adam (Gabriel Nicholson) lives a lonely existence in a log cabin, surrounded by desolate forest. His brother Pete (Michael Daniel) occasionally visits, while trying to try keep their widowed grandmother company. She has a history of mental illness and has been channelling the words of Sator (a spirit in the forest that has protected her but can be malevolent) in various notebooks for years. As Adam starts seeing figures wearing fur and deer skulls, he starts to question whether Sator is real or just part of his Nani’s fragile psyche. Sator is at its most effective when spending time with Nani (June Peterson, sadly her first and final role) the fact she really suffered from Sator related delusions adds gravitas to her scenes, which are genuinely unsettling – whether she is talking to camera or intensely staring out from her bed. The film feels influenced by The Blair Witch Project with it’s blurring of fact and fiction, or a much shorter Ari Aster feature, building dread and introducing the idea of Sator disciples.

Even though many great ideas and filmmaking techniques are used, Sator is ultimately not entertaining or revelatory enough to leave a mark. One to discuss at a dry dinner party but not to dwell on.

For every Steven Spielberg and Christopher Nolan there are a countless number of aspiring directors. If you’re one of them then you need to see Clapboard Jungle. In this age of streaming services, where there is more content than ever before, you’d think that just about anyone with a camera, editing software, and a modicum of artistic merit would have their film available for public consumption. And that’s partly the problem. There is so much content that it gets buried amongst the heavy hitters which makes it that much harder to be discovered. Canadian indie filmmaker Justin McConnell knows this only too well as Clapboard Jungle documents his five-year journey to get one of his projects up and running.

McConnell charts the frustration at trying to raise financing. He’s told to get a star name attached to his project, but in order to do that he needs the financing, but he can’t get financing as he doesn’t have a star name. He attends film markets at prestigious film festivals around the world, gets some interest only for his hopes at finally getting a project of the ground dashed. Along the way McConnell gets advice, often contradictory, from the lucky indie filmmakers that are making a career for themselves, as well as Hollywood legends such as Guillermo del Toro, Paul Schrader, Mick Garris, George Romero, Tom Savini, Dick Miller, and Lloyd Kaufman amongst others.

Part of the charm of Clapboard Jungle is McConnell himself. He’s such a personable chap that you can’t help but feel as devastated as he does when a project that looks like it’s happening is suddenly scrapped. There may be more content than ever before, but there’s only so much money to go around to make those projects. Through McConnell we get an insight into just how difficult it is in selling a film, attracting star names, practical effects and, of course, the dreaded financing. McConnell is told that it’s no longer enough that you can write, produce, and direct, you also have to be a legal expert and a maths genius. But forging a career in film is not just knowing the technical aspects, it’s being able to take rejection after rejection after rejection until that break finally comes.

This is by no means a cautionary tale about starting a career in the decidedly unglamorous indie film world, it’s more a guide to show just how tenacious you have to be, and the pitfalls that can be encountered along the way to achieving your vision. If you have no desire to work in the film industry, Clapboard Jungle is still a hugely interesting look at the process of getting a film off the ground. It’s a wonder anything gets made at all.

The extras are plentiful with extended interviews from all who gave their time to this documentary. There’s also several of McConnell’s short films that show just how inventive he is when shooting with no budget and naturally, there are a couple of trailers.