Review Category: Movie

As disaster strikes a mother and her newborn baby, we are given a brief glimpse into the life of a woman living alone on an empty country manor, loneliness and isolation making each day a struggle. A nocturnal funeral rite in her backyard necropolis of dying flowers and tiny skulls make us wonder as to her history.

The film has very little dialogue, instead relying on visuals to tell the story, and with some slightly surreal shots featuring snakes and scorpions lining the floors and stone birds swinging lifeless from a mobile above an unoccupied cot it initially has the feel of an extended music video. However, it is soon revealed to be a modern day gothic tragedy as the woman glides in grieving somnambulism through the corridors of her lonely mansion where the barren rooms echo the silent judgement of voices from the past that haunt her every step.

The script was written for The ABCs of Death 2, and since the submitted shorts were required to begin with M, you’ll quickly realise what its original title would have been as you figure out the woman’s unstated but self-evident identity. As well as the mythological overtones, the film is also a statement about depression, and when you believe yourself to truly be the monster that others would perceive you as, there is a limit to how much you can take. Serpent’s Lullaby is a serene and sorrowful tale, the music and imagery combining into an experience darkly emotional and endlessly chilling.

SERPENT’S LULLABY / CERT: TBC / DIRECTOR: PATRICIA CHICA / SCREENPLAY: CHARLES HALL / STARRING: JENIMAY WALKER, ANABELLA HART / RELEASE DATE: TBC
 

We’ve been blindsided by stories of Arthur and Merlin, beguiled by their fabled exploits in a multimedia barrage that’s left creatives working overtime to attract any attention. BBC’s Merlin took the wizened sage and showed off his troubled younger years to great effect, and first-time feature director Marco van Belle has done one better.

Arthur and Merlin is ostensibly an origin story, starting off in childhood to see the duo’s fractured start in life, before flashing forward fifteen years. Where it differs from the uber-realism of 2004’s Clive Owen vehicle King Arthur, is a total reappraisal of the source material and upping the fantastical with a twist in the myth. Arthfael, a young Celtic warrior, teams up with the reluctant wizard Myrrdin to defeat an evil druid and save their people.

It’s a hearty return to sword and sorcery when the landscape of fantasy is getting bloated and po-faced. Even in the constraints of its meagre budget, the cinematography is staggering, capturing a picturesque England across twenty-one different locations. Because of the lack of tangible sets, besides a few tents, it’s easy to believe in its Dark Ages setting.

The script, written by van Belle and Kat Wood, has the wonderful clunky dialogue of a David Eddings novel. By extension, many of performances are wonky, with Arthfae himself (Kirk Barker) on the wooden side. Genre alumni David Sterne makes for a charismatic and powerful King Vortigern, and relative newcomer Stefan Butler leaving a surprising impression as the titular wizard.

Arthur and Merlin is a triumph of British independent filmmaking and a modern fantasy staple. Van Belle has conjured an atmospheric adventure, full of quirky campiness, rollicking good humour and, most importantly, fun.

ARTHUR AND MERLIN / CERT: 12 / DIRECTOR: MARCO VAN BELLE / SCREENPLAY: MARCO VAN BELLE, KAT WOOD / STARRING: KIRK BARKER, STEFAN BUTLER, NIGEL COOKE, DAVID STERNE / RELEASE DATE: OUT NOW
 
 

Kids being forced to sing Nirvana in Neverland? No thank you very much. When Hugh Jackman’s pirate Blackbeard is introduced in Joe Wright’s Peter Pan prequel Pan, his minions below him sing grunge’s most famous anthem Smells Like Teen Spirit. It begs the question, has Wright been binging on Baz Luhrmann and who thought this would be a good idea?

Taking liberties with source material and beginning in the Blitz as the bombs fall over London, Peter Pan is under the watchful eyes of the nasty nuns at the Lambeth Home for Boys. Dropped there as a baby 12 years earlier by his mother, he dreams of the day she will return to collect him. While the nuns hoard the limited wartime rations and treat the boys like slaves, escape comes one night in the form of pirates bursting through the roof of the orphanage. 

Spirited away to Neverland on a flying pirate ship, Peter finds himself imprisoned in the mines where the most feared pirate of all, Hugh Jackman’s Captain Blackbeard rules over his kidnapped victims. While mining for fairy dust which has rejuvenation properties for those who inhale it, Peter hooks up with James Hook and his mate Smee, finds out he is the subject of a prophecy and plots an escape to search for his beloved missing mother.

Pan fans (or just anyone who’s ever been to a pantomime) will recognise the character names and Peter’s search takes him across the familiar world of Neverland, meeting the pirate-fighting natives including fearless Tiger Lily (Rooney Mara) and on to find mermaids, crocodiles and fairies. Blackbeard is of course always in hot pursuit with nice guy Hugh Jackman shouting and threatening and trying his very best to be menacing. Meanwhile, Wright shoehorns in some foreshadowing to the J. M. Barrie story we know and love with Hook being intimidated by a crocodile and Peter getting a brief moment to meet Tinkerbell.

But this is Peter’s story and newcomer Levi Miller just about manages to avoid making this look like a big budget stage school production. That’s made harder because he’s surrounded by over acting, with both Jackman throwing it all out there from beneath an outrageous costume and Garrett Hedlund also overdoing the roguish charm of his James Hook. What Hedlund and Jason Fuchs’ script fails to do is convincingly hint at the darkness to come in Hook’s story. If Pan gets a sequel, the arc of Hook’s fall to the dark side will be the real draw, but don’t expect much of a hint of the nasty pirate here.

For while there is some menace, and younger children might find the odd moment scary, this is mostly pantomime stuff, just with added lashings of CGI. Typically for a Joe Wright film, Pan looks lovely, particularly when bringing storytelling to life. One early sequence uses stars to create character imagery, another uses a ‘memory tree’ to carve out a narrative in wood, and then later water is used to invoke a sort-of flashback to a pivotal moment in Peter’s family history. These moments are exquisite, so it’s a shame that the action sequences, including a pirate ship dogfight with spitfires over London and the climactic Blackbeard showdown with Peter are often a bit of a mess of overused CGI.

In contrast, the production design of the native’s territory is wonderful and the multi-coloured costumes of the tribes people will remind older audiences of what has made Peter Pan and Neverland so enduring all these years. The racist undertones of any previous Peter Pan stories are brushed aside by casting the ‘savage’ natives as a multi-cultural bunch of jungle dwellers.

Pan manages to tread on the toes of its source material, at the same time as heading into previously unexplored prequel territory only hinted at by J. M. Barrie. It all feels like a set-up for a sequel (where we might get to the good stuff) and if that manages to get Hook’s story right, it could be a hell of a lot better than this lively, but flawed flight through Neverland.

PAN / CERT: PG / DIRECTOR: JOE WRIGHT / SCREENPLAY: JASON FUCHS / STARRING: HUGH JACKMAN, LEVI MILLER, JIMMY VEE, AMANDA SEYFRIED, ROONEY MARA / RELEASE DATE: OCTOBER 16TH

Expected Rating: 7 out of 10

Actual Rating:

Following the death of Mark (a high-profile war correspondent) outside the apartment that he shared with his girlfriend, Sarah, Jack finds his self-imposed isolation violated by the journalist’s confused spirit. Explaining that he simply wants Jack to help him say goodbye to Sarah, Mark not so much haunts as stalks Jack until he gets his way. The result of which does not go smoothly.

While we see inside Jack’s tormented world, we also see it from the outside, presenting us with an all-too-familiar sight of a dishevelled and erratic man who talks and shouts to himself with little regard for his surroundings. The consequences of this behaviour are evident throughout as he’s (literally) kicked out of pubs, chased down the street and ridiculed. Yet Jack is no Derek Acorah, he has no ulterior motive for passing on the messages of the dead; in fact, he’d rather they left him alone completely. Driven almost to the point of madness, the only solace Jack has is in the arms of his sister, Emma (Cole) and her troubled son who seems to share Jack’s unwanted gift.

There is a lot of heart and soul in this film. While comparisons can easily be brought with the likes of The Sixth Sense, there is very little attempt to glorify the thriller aspects of the story (which are there for the taking but are instead left largely unanswered). Instead, the focus is squarely on Jack and his battle both internal (fleshed out through intermittent flashbacks to a life-changing event as a child) and by default external as self-harm begins to seep into the picture.

Without a doubt, Sheehan is the standout star of this beautifully crafted film. His portrayal of someone who is both outwardly suffering from mental illness and inwardly struggling to help those grieving is outstanding. Coupled with Blair’s stark yet beguiling direction and Ian Livingstone’s haunting score, The Messenger is a unique film that, while not necessarily playing well to the masses, is a thought-provoking and unforgettable experience.

 

Following the death of Mark (a high-profile war correspondent) outside the apartment that he shared with his girlfriend, Sarah, Jack finds his self-imposed isolation violated by the journalist’s confused spirit. Explaining that he simply wants Jack to help him say goodbye to Sarah, Mark not so much haunts as stalks Jack until he gets his way. The result of which does not go smoothly.

While we see inside Jack’s tormented world, we also see it from the outside, presenting us with an all-too-familiar sight of a dishevelled and erratic man who talks and shouts to himself with little regard for his surroundings. The consequences of this behaviour are evident throughout as he’s (literally) kicked out of pubs, chased down the street and ridiculed. Yet Jack is no Derek Acorah, he has no ulterior motive for passing on the messages of the dead; in fact, he’d rather they left him alone completely. Driven almost to the point of madness, the only solace Jack has is in the arms of his sister, Emma (Cole) and her troubled son who seems to share Jack’s unwanted gift.

There is a lot of heart and soul in this film. While comparisons can easily be brought with the likes of The Sixth Sense, there is very little attempt to glorify the thriller aspects of the story (which are there for the taking but are instead left largely unanswered). Instead, the focus is squarely on Jack and his battle both internal (fleshed out through intermittent flashbacks to a life-changing event as a child) and by default external as self-harm begins to seep into the picture.

Without a doubt, Sheehan is the standout star of this beautifully crafted film. His portrayal of someone who is both outwardly suffering from mental illness and inwardly struggling to help those grieving is outstanding. Coupled with Blair’s stark yet beguiling direction and Ian Livingstone’s haunting score, The Messenger is a unique film that, while not necessarily playing well to the masses, is a thought-provoking and unforgettable experience.

 

Halloween is almost the perfect time to set a horror film. It’s making something original and striking that’s usually the problem. Writer/director Webber has no such problem in this short-and-nasty little shocker.

On the way home from a party, Ethan (Alexandrou) and his girlfriend Mel (Van Cleave) are having a few heated words. He thinks she’s been in a mood all night, and after a flippant remark about her costume, she insists on getting out of the car and walking.

Everyone knows those areas of a town where it’s not altogether safe for anyone to walk alone, never mind a woman. Well, this appears to be one, as it’s not long before she’s finds herself being followed. The pursuer pulls out a knife as she turns a corner to a secluded spot. It’s not going to end well, is it?

The thing with watching (and certainly reviewing) short films is that more often than not, there’s a punch line, or some kind of twist that revealing too much of the plot will instantly give away. That’s very much the case here, although anyone with knowledge of the genre will have some sort of idea as to what’s going to play out.
What the short does have is wonderful pacing (yes, it’s only eight minutes, but not one second is wasted or out of place), strong acting and some impressive, nasty, effects. To top all that off, there’s a payoff that is just perfect.

If watching Mel walk the dark streets in her striking red dress jogs a few memories, it’s completely understandable as Rebecca Van Cleave was famously the body double for Lena Headey in Game of Thrones, when Cersei had to do the walk of shame. Watching this, she won’t be just doubling for long, as she certainly has a promising future.

If you get the chance to see The Prey on a festival screening, do yourself a favour and don’t miss it. It ticks all the right boxes for a short, and is totally entertaining.

THE PREY / CERT: TBC / DIRECTOR & SCREENPLAY: JAMES WEBBER / STARRING: REBECCA VAN CLEAVE, SAM GITTINS, JAMES ALEXANDROU

Kidnapped by a pair of murderous psychopaths and subsequently escaping, a girl hides out in their cupboard while the plot of a horror film happens around her. Part brutal kidnap thriller, part supernatural horror schlock, Inner Demon is all cliché, one of the more divisive movies of this year’s FrightFest.

Young Sam is the kidnappee in question, abducted from her home one night, along with her kid sister Maddy. Escaping from her kidnappers thanks to a mix of her own tenacity and their incompetence, she makes a good fist of getting away – until, that is, she accidentally takes refuge in the cupboard of their farmhouse. She and her audience had better get used to those surroundings – the film barely leaves the place once she gets there.

Dark, moody visuals, strong gore and some genuinely troubling themes make Ursula Dabrowsky’s Inner Demon a difficult one to dismiss – especially in the face of Sarah Jeavons’ spirited lead performance – but it’s an equally hard one to defend. As bloody and terrified as Sam gets, there’s a sense of dullness to everything from the initial chase sequences to the later doom and gloom of life within a household of serial killers. All the time we’re left waiting for the inevitable shift of tone and subgenre, which takes its sweet time in arriving. The Madeleine McCann references, if intentional, are ill-advised, lending a sour taste to a film which already has enough problems to deal with.

As Sam would no doubt admit, there’s only so much one can accomplish from the inside of a cupboard, and it’s this which really hampers Inner Demon. In spite of its accomplished lead performance and impressively oppressive atmosphere, this one is just a bit too introverted.

INNER DEMON / CERT: TBC / DIRECTOR & SCREENPLAY: URSULA DABROWSKY / STARRING: SARAH JEAVONS, KERRY ANN REID, ANDREAS SOBIK / RELEASE DATE: TBC
 

It’s the documentary about night terrors that will be sure to give you night terrors. Such is the reputation Rodney Ascher is surely hoping for with his latest dramatised documentary, detailing the sinister subject of sleep paralysis.

For the uninitiated (careful: if The Nightmare is to be believed, just reading this synopsis should be enough to cause it), sleep paralysis is a disorder which plagues many a sleeper – a waking nightmare, so to speak. The most common experience being of a shadowy figure (often wearing a hat, sometimes not) standing in the corner of one’s room, slowly approaching. Occasionally, he (or she – it can also take the form of an old hag, although this is never explored here) is accompanied by minions, like a hellish Blue Man group or, well, Gru and his Minions.

Part talking head film, part Crimewatch dramatisation, The Nightmare is certainly effective, with screenings reporting audience members screaming in their seats and experiencing paralysis of their very own once tucked up in bed afterwards. The audience at FrightFest, obviously, being made of tougher stuff, where one chap was noticed to be napping through the film. Whether he experienced a visit from The Shadow Man remains to be seen. This combination of talking heads and dramatisations works particularly well, like a real-life Sinister or Insidious. There are jump scares aplenty, as well as a slowly encroaching sense of dread which hangs heavy for long after the film ends. The universal nature of nightmares (we’ve all had ’em, paralysis or no) means that this sense of horror hits hard, particularly during the more quietly surreal moments (one particular phone call is especially chilling).

Still, there’s the same faint bullshitty whiff to it that accompanied Ascher’s majestically pretentious Room 237, and its repeated insistence that sleep paralysis can be caused simply by hearing about sleep paralysis feels particularly desperate. While there’s no doubt that some will be so affected by The Nightmare, for the most part, it’s as likely to give you bad dreams as an episode of Countryfile. Well, maybe a couple.