Review Category: Movie

It’s hard to come up with a new idea for a horror film. This is what the three artists find in Killer Concept when they team up to write the screenplay for a project. It’s not just hard, it’s murder.

Seth (Coley Bryant) and Holly (Casey Dillard) bring in Mark (Glen Payne) to help bounce some ideas for a new screenplay they are writing based on a local serial killer. There are two big problems, though. The killer is still at large, meaning they won’t have an ending, and Mark is actually the guy doing the slaying.

As well as taking on the role of Mark, Payne directs this fun low budget piece, which highlights the struggle of integrity vs commerciality in horror filmmaking. Seth wants over the top, bloody kills, with plenty of naked nubile women. Holly is the voice of reason, who sees this clichéd approach for what it is, as well as being very disrespectful to the victims. Dillard is credited for the script, too, so it’s likely this is her battle cry against the industry itself.

Killer Concept comes alive when the writers’ are trying to formulate the story, and we’ve no doubt that the situation will ring true to many indie creatives. As things progress and we focus more on Mark’s intentions, the film loses its direction somewhat. However, Payne and his crew punch way above their weight to produce an enjoyable, if inconsistent, movie that proves you don’t need a big budget to make a fun flick.

Three women wake up in a hospital with no idea how they got there. One can’t speak, one can’t hear, and one can’t see. When they find each other, they have to band together to escape.

This taunt, haunting movie was written and directed by Mexican filmmaker Alex Kahuam, who lets the visuals do the talking as it’s almost completely dialogue-free. It’s hauntingly filmed in long, fluid shots that heighten the frantic panic of the women it follows. It’s split into chapters, each named after the three women (Jessica Ortiz, Alejanda Zaid, and Alejandra Toussaint), who find that they are not the only ones who are being punished in this nightmare of a hospital.

The sound design is probably more important than ever here, and Gilda Garcia and Hugo Wini do a superb job of disorientating and drawing the viewer into the situation (warning for tinnitus sufferers, though, as chapter two might cause you problems!). Forgiveness is packed full of disturbing imagery with a surreal edge and is terrifyingly mesmerising.

A case involving a pair of missing teenagers opens up a centuries-old mystery that a police inspector feels compelled to put onto video since he fears for his life. At the time of the disappearance, a young woman was discovered, dishevelled, in the woods nearby. Does she have anything to do with an ancient manuscript found in a hidden tomb near where the teens went missing?

Writer/director Francesco Erba takes a unique approach for his feature debut, melding several styles that could easily have been a muddled mess. The majority of the story is presented in a first-person format. Not quite ‘found footage’ but not regular filmmaking either. A section filmed with a camera placed on a dog’s head is both ingenious and dizzying. The medieval segments are delivered via stop-motion-type animation involving stylised puppets. With only a musical accompaniment, these scenes are hauntingly beautiful with a character of their own. It’s to Erba’s credit that this approach doesn’t jar with the rest of the live-action story.

Although it’s presented episodically, there’s a lot to unpick in Erba’s movie. Primaeval rites and alchemy clash together with religious and modern sensibilities in a story that spans a vast amount of time. The animation adds an eeriness to the narrative as if we’re being told a tale passed down through the ages, but the modern scenes tell us a different story as if this is something we’re not meant to know and is dangerous to do so. Despite there being three separate narratives being told, Erba grafts them together perfectly.

As in Heaven, So on Earth proves there is still plenty of originality in Italian cinema and has an atmosphere that draws the viewer in from the start.

Ulises (Pepe Soriano) is a hundred years old and is getting increasingly confused. He’s lived on the second floor of his apartment building for many years with his wife, Dalia (Marilú Marini), estranged from his children. Dalia is afraid that if they saw the way that they lived, they would put them in a home. As Ulises approaches what will be his last night on Earth, his mind wanders to past regrets and happier times, but he is also disturbed by the sudden suicide of the woman upstairs.

It’s very rare that a film set within the horror genre is so emotionally charged that it’s hard to control the tears from a very early point. Pepe Soriano provides a masterclass of acting with his portrayal of an old man nearing the end of his life. It’s a depiction steeped in dignity, but as fragile as it could possibly be. Writer/director Gonzalo Calzada (Luciferina), alongside cinematographer Claudio Beiza, paints a beautiful picture of a stunning apartment that has seen better days. The choice of viewing angles and camera tricks perfectly convey an atmosphere of decay, but also, surprisingly, of a sombre tranquillity.

The horror elements are almost unneeded, and when they come they are more to disorientate Ulises rather than scare the audience. They are handled well, though, and do provide an air of unpredictability.

It’s not often we say this, but expect to be an emotional wreck by the end of the film.

Alexis (Jasmin Savoy Brown) lost her hearing as a child, but a brutal trauma gave her that sense back but with it came a swirling, beautiful array of colours (a real-life condition called synaesthesia). As an adult, she teaches music but has a real passion project: to create sounds that will provoke the same display of colour as she felt while bashing her father over the head with a meat tenderiser. The sounds she records come from a violent source, a BDSM session, for example. When she’s told her hearing could go again at any time, she ramps up the intensity of the audio brutality to a murderous extent.

The debut feature of writer/director Alex Noyer, Sound of Violence, has an interesting premise that has plenty to recommend it. The story treats the obsession of Alexis to complete her magnum opus as an addiction rather than a passion. Something that consumes and of which nothing good will come. A truly disturbing moment in a pretentious art gallery involving a harp player who’s been laced with a psychedelic drug and manipulated to give pleasure to Alexis is genuinely horrific. And it’s this lack of empathy with others that rings true with the drug analogy.

Jasmin Savoy Brown is brilliant as the detached killer, but while it’s easy to believe the musical talent she has, the elaborate devices she concocts to get her sounds recorded are likely to be out of her range.

Often stunning visually and as you would expect, it boasts an intense sound design, it’s a film that challenges as much as it rewards.

Dazzler Media presents SOUND OF VIOLENCE on Blu-ray, DVD and Digital from August 30th

We enjoy Richard Bates Jr’s movies. Ever since Excision, we’ve longed to return to his twisted world time and time again. His latest, King Knight, has a lighter tone but is still a gem of a production.

Thorn (Matthew Gray Gubler) is a suburban witch who presides over a coven of misfits. However, he has a secret that he is hiding even from his devoted partner Willow (Angela Sarafyan). An email he is dodging holds the key to this dark moment of his past: an invitation to his class reunion. The worst is yet to come as Thorn shamefully admits that he was his year’s prom king.

With King Knight, Bates Jr has crafted a gloriously hilarious, camp masterpiece that pokes fun at both the expected norms of American school life and the sage-burning new age breed that so earnestly embrace their outsider status. Genre royalty Barbara Crampton and Ray Wise pop up in small roles but make their presence felt. Aubrey Plaza even provides the voice of a pinecone. Yep, it’s that sort of film. A lo-fi animated sequence is the topping on the cake.

There’s an in-character voiceover from Gubler – who is understatedly superb – that gives the introduction a Woody Allen feel, and there’s more than enough entertaining lines that you’ll be dying to drop into everyday conversation – well if you’re like us, anyway.

King Knight is destined to be a beloved cult classic, adored by those who discover its charms. Don’t let it pass you by.

Folk horror has become a label bandied a lot lately. Films such as Midsommar and The VVitch have made the style in vogue. Director Kier-La Janisse (who wrote the fantastic book House of Psychotic Women) delves into the subgenre with this expansive (it’s well over three hours long) but fascinating documentary.

While many believe what we know as folk horror began with what is termed ‘The Unholy Trinity’ – Witchfinder General, The Wicker Man, and The Blood on Satan’s Claw – there are many more titles from all over the world to be discovered, going back to the silent days of cinema. Janisse’s documentary starts with these three films as a base to build an understanding of the term folk horror and the varied nature of what makes a movie come under that label. By getting these big names out of the way in the first twenty minutes, we’re free to uncover a wealth of pagan and witchy riches.

The talking heads gathered to elaborate on the subject are an impressive bunch. Very few are regulars to this kind of production, so it’s interesting to hear some fresh voices. These range from the academics to the filmmakers themselves, such as Robert Eggers, who has helped bring folk horror to the multiplex with arthouse breakouts such as The VVitch and The Lighthouse.

The documentary is divided into six chapters, each focusing on a particular branch of the folk horror tree, but naturally, themes and topics weave their way throughout. This approach will no doubt make the film easier to divide if necessary for easier home consumption. However, don’t let the runtime put you off, it’s very easy to get engrossed in the subject matter and you’ll be wanting longer to delve into the myriad of facts and film clips. The choice of music is perfect too (including a track from The Unthanks, who provided the beautiful soundtrack for the Worzel Gummidge revamp), giving the flavour of the pastures, strange local customs, and eerie forests that await.

You’ll be advised to have a pen and paper handy to note down the titles to add to your ‘track down’ list as there are sure to be some that have passed you by over the years. There was one traumatic moment for this writer, however, when Kat Ellinger remarked on being forced to do ‘country dancing’ at junior school. I’d totally blanked that experience from my memory. [*Shudder*]

Woodlands Dark and Days Bewitched is the best kind of genre documentary: informative, intelligent and, above all, entertaining.

Rosie (Ciara Bailey) and Dan (Tad Morari) are heading into the country for a lovely walk in the woods. Dan’s got special plans for the day; not only has he warned off the chap that Rosie’s recently had a fling with but he plans to pop the question. Unfortunately, Rosie doesn’t think the time is right for them, which gives the rest of the day a bit of a sour atmosphere. That’s not the only thing that’s going to go wrong, though, as they lose their way through the forest and some very uncanny things begin to happen as though it has a malignant force of its own.

Written and directed by Richard Waters, Bring Out the Fear plays on the fears that many people have: to be lost in a place where there’s apparently no way out. With their senses heightened by the terror of being lost, the forest brings some primal dread to the characters. Each of them are seemingly taunted by the unseen presence the woods permeates. Dan has visions of the man Rosie slept with, threatening them that they will die there while Rosie is haunted by wine bottles, since it’s apparent that she’s given up drinking. Whispers and terrifying noises add to the torment and lead to a dizzyingly nightmarish environment.

Waters mixes a folk horror aesthetic with relationship drama to good effect. Ciara Bailey gives her all as Rosie, especially when she’s separated from her boyfriend. The sound design is particularly unnerving, with dissonant lows overpowering the scenes at times. Bring Out the Fear has plenty going for it, it might not be full of jump scares or gore, but it has a psychological edge that will get into your head.