Film Reviews, Interviews and Articles
“What the hell is going on?” – Madison
“I have no idea.” – Travis
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Imagine waking up in some unfamiliar place, dazed and disoriented. You stumble downstairs to a charnel house of cadavers, finding one of your good friends chewing off another friend’s face. What would you do? This cognitive dissonance, this mammalian panic terror is the core of what makes Fear The Walking Dead so deadly effective, as well as what separates it from its mothership. Read More
The Deepest Cuts is a weekly invitation into some of the sleaziest, goriest, most under-explored corners of horror and cult film online. Every title will be streamable and totally NSFW. Whether it’s a 1960s grindhouse masterpiece, something schlocky from the 90s, or hardcore horror from around the world, these films are guaranteed to shock, disturb, tickle, or generally blow your mind.
“The first phase is hallucinogenic… The second phase is glandular… The third phase is… ”
Body Melt is a delightful mix of fantastic gore, after-school-special aesthetics, dance music, and social critique of the bourgeois love of health and fitness crazes that could only come from 1990s Australia.
The Deepest Cuts is a weekly invitation into some of the sleaziest, goriest, most under-explored corners of horror and cult film online. Every title will be streamable and totally NSFW. Whether it’s a 1960s grindhouse masterpiece, something schlocky from the 90s, or hardcore horror from around the world, these films are guaranteed to shock, disturb, tickle, or generally blow your mind.
Witchcraft, voodoo, black magic: spiritual practices which harness otherworldly powers are inherently fascinating to the outsider and have provided research material and fodder for wild and often dangerously prejudicial imaginings for centuries. Take a classic dramatic work like The Crucible or Dreyer’s Day of Wrath, in which witchcraft serves as the metaphorical fulcrum for political or moral lessons, where the existence of the supernatural is either completely discounted or irrelevant. These are important, valuable contributions to art, society, and so on. In stark contrast are just the kind of films we’re interested in, wherein the dark forces are definitely real and the only moral lesson is simple: don’t fuck with the occult. Mystics in Bali is a totally one-of-a-kind example of the latter.
*This is a reprint of our SXSW 2015 review.
Ted (Jared Breeze) is a serial killer in the making. He’s only nine years old but all the warning signs are there in Craig William Macneill’s slow burning but explosively rewarding motion picture. Like the great unmade redneck prequel to The Good Son, The Boy shows the quiet transformation of ennui to psychosis as an immeasurably bored towhead graduates from coaxing animals to their death to killing them outright before finally setting his sights on his own genus and gene pool. Read More
Synopsis: “When Carson (mesmerizing newcomer Lara Vosburgh), the teenaged daughter of a religious family, transforms from straight-A student into heroin addict, her parents agree to allow a reality TV show crew to stage an intervention and document her recovery. But what they don’t know is that she has been taking drugs to deal with the unnatural, evil feelings that have been growing inside of her. And when she agrees to rehab, with no drugs to suppress that malevolent force, she and everyone around her will find themselves in mortal danger from an entity far worse than they could ever imagine. From Seth Grossman, director of The Butterfly Effect 3: Revelations and producer of the reality show Intervention, INNER DEMONS explores the blurry lines between addiction, possession and mental illness, and refreshes the horror genre with a grounded, layered story of a girl’s battle against demonic possession.” Read More
The amount of films I’ve seen this week is sheer insanity. In the theater, I only had a screening of Dumb and Dumber To (one I seemed to cull more enjoyment from than many others) but the real work was put in at home. After digesting a viewing of The Graduate (one of my all time favorites), I continued to dive head first into dissecting the films of Ridley Scott. In my pursuit to see and revisit each and all of his films to produce a ranking prior to the release of Exodus: Gods and Kings, I tapped into a whopping six Scott flicks. Additionally, I did a little DIY horror marathon in anticipation of an end of year list that will now go unmentioned. As you can likely tell, it seemed like Halloween all over again the way the horror was a’flowin’. So strap in for a horror-y dose of Weekly Review.
A blind ex-military man is a fresh arrival at a retirement community spinning from a string of unexplained animal attacks. Werewolfness ensues. Late Phases premiered this year at SXSW (I missed it) to middling reviews as the first English language film from Spanish director Adrián García Bogliano is a little too jokey and yet not quite campy enough to really capture love from either side of the isle. Putting in an performance more devoted than the script deserves, Ethan Embry plays a hardened man who inexplicably puts the pieces to Phases‘ werewolf plot together like boxed cake. What rises above the paint-by-numbers kill-fest is Embry’s hard but tender relationship with his son, though that goes underdeveloped as well. The practical effects are appreciated, if not a touch juvenile, making this a mostly miffed effort. (C-)
All Cheerleaders Die is an interesting concept – a satirical supernatural battle of the sexes – but its choppy execution leaves it high and dry. A higher-budgeted remake of directors Lucky McKee and Chris Sivertson own 2001 film, Cheerleaders is an aggressively jarring film, offering scenes that are genuinely great and following them up with a bevy of truly embarrassing ones. Perhaps the most pronounced problem of the film is McKee and Sivertson’s apparent misunderstanding of satire, as their flick falls back on the very tropes it tries so openly to mock time and time again. (D+)
Bryan Bertino‘s long awaited follow up to The Strangers is desperately in need of a plot. Mockingbird follows three narratives – a couple, a young woman and a chubby social pariah made to dress up as a clown – as a mysterious and malicious group forces them to videotape their each and every move under threat of death. Mockingbird is great at building atmosphere but for all the building, there is no blueprint apparent. Rather, Bertino subjects us to one long-con that pays its tab in chump change, offering a “twist” surprise that wouldn’t look amiss in a Shamalayan film. Bertino’s proven his talent for conjuring moodiness, he now just needs to prove an ability to summon up an actual plot. (C-)
Yet another found footage-based horror flick (with even more to come), The Den is an effectively told cautionary tale about online identity and personal security filled with just enough nasty scares and gruesome bits to legitimize a committed watch. In “The Den”, an online chatroulette-like social network, Liz witnesses what appears to be a real murder. Melanie Papalia stars as said young woman, a socialite with a hazy research grant that lands in her over her head amongst a group of nasty internet guerillas set on terrorizing her and those closest to her. First time director Zachary Donohue starts off a bit rocky but as the film moves into its second and third act, Donohue’s confidence and originality grows, making for a rather solid, if not entirely original, horror debut. (C+)
Blair Erickson‘s film starts with actual news footage (one clip features President Bill Clinton) dishing the goods on the US government’s involvement with administering doses of highly effective mind-altering drugs on test subjects. From a historical perspective, it’s gnarly stuff. As a film, it works in fits and starts. Loosely based on H.P. Lovecraft’s 1920 short story “From Beyond,” Banshee Chapter stars Katia Winter as a journalist who teams up with a Hunter S. Thompson-esque character (Ted Levine), to uncover the mystery behind a formula known as DMT-19. Though the acting from Winter and Levine is sturdy, the plot feels oddly hollow, hitting familiar horror beats along the way. Adaptation or no, Erickson misses out on the novelty of telling a politically motivated tale within the horror genre. Shame. (C)
Where The Den, Mockingbird and Exists all commit the cardinal sin of less-than-compelling characters, The Borderlands shines because director Elliot Gouldner rightly realizes that even in found footage movies, you need great characters. The Borderlands has plenty. Robin Hill and Gordon Kennedy star opposite each other as two Vatican investigators sussing out the legitimacy of a miracle claim and both bring life and complexity to their characters. Hill (who worked on other great horror flicks Kill List and Sightseers) is full of zingers while Kennedy brings a dark compassion to his bent-out-of-shape believer. Though the first couple acts feel a lot like just another haunting done found footage style, the claustrophobic last act is a thrill ride into hell itself. (B)
A total jumbalaya of found footage cliches, Exists is a profoundly uninspired effort. Helmed by Eduardo Sánchez of Blair Witch Project fame and fortune, Exists follows a group of thoroughly uninteresting teenagers on your typical cabin in the woods venture when they come across Bigfoot. Chases and death follows. What Exists fails to understand is that in order for proceedings to be compelling, we have to at least have some semblance of connection to the characters or else their fate holds little to no value. As such, Sánchez squanders half-decent makeup and a chance to reclaim good standing in the horror film community with this tasteless dud of a risk-adverse experiment. (D)
A surprisingly well-made foray into supernatural realism, Wer hues closer to reality than you would expect of your average werewolf saga. Partially thanks to the perfect casting of Brian Scott O’Connor, William Brent Bell‘s fourth film is also likely his best. Where most werewolf flicks take a hairy wrong turn, Bell uses a human rights plot and minimal special effects to breathe new life into familar territory. Not scary so much as it is smart, Wer is a strong example of frugality done right. (B-)
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Last week saw the release of the 13 Most Disturbing Horror Movies of the Last 13 Years (to thunderous applause) but I still had some fuel left in the tank to charge through a few more horror movies in preparation for Hallow’s Eve. In fact, the season has had a particularly strong sway with me this year, as I’ve now sought out a haunted house (Fright Fest in Federal Way), a haunted Seattle tour (Pioneer Square) and am soon to embark on an 18+ horror extravaganza (Real Fear) that will require me to sign and fingerprint a “don’t sue us” waver. Bring it on.
At home, I popped on one of my favorite Halloween flicks, Drag Me To Hell, but since I was mostly cooking eggs and washing dishes while I watched, I didn’t think it got the attention it deserved to be included for closer dissection amongst this week’s batch. I will however admit to loving that film wholeheartedly. In theaters, I caught St. Vincent, White Bird in a Blizzard, Dear White People and the utterly astounding , the last of which I would urge you to see as soon as it comes to a theater near you. But enough about me, let’s get to these Weekly Reviews.
A French experimental drama by way of the horror genre dedicated to its own experimentalism, Amer is an slip’n’slide of colors and askew camera angles. Part acid trip, part student film, there isn’t much to say about Amer‘s standstill plot, but in a movie such as this, plot isn’t really even a consideration. Admirably filmed and often gorgeously photographed, Amer is a film I can see some people some finding worth in but was not won over by the over-the-top existentialism of co-directors and writers Helene Cattet and Bruno Forzani‘s wandering tendencies. The music is admittedly awesome, it just so happens that everything else is inidellyic. (C-)
Liv Tyler stars in this taut little home invasion horror, a film that knows how to use sounds and shadows to its each and every advantage. There isn’t too much motion within The Strangers – it mostly unfolds within an isolated wooden cabin in the middle of, you guessed it, nowhere – but sets itself up with some emotional stakes that are never made light of nor ever truly fleshed out. For that fact alone, I had a lot of respect for the restraint and nuance of Bryan Bertino‘s storytelling. His is a movie happy to leave us hanging, waiting for an auditory bang or the appearance of a nefarious invader but not depending upon it. Atmospheric and deliberate spooky, The Strangers is a strong example of frugal horror done right. (B)
A remake of Don Siegel‘s 1956 sci-fi, Invasion of the Body Snatchers is a smartly told story of alien invasion. Being a child of the 90’s, my fourth grade year involved learning the cold hard facts about aliens through “Animorphs.” That’s right, I suckled on the nourishing, junky teat of K.A. Applegate. So yeah, I am well versed in the fine art of yerking. Because that’s basically what’s going on here. Except with slugs. Body Snatchers is one of the films that I’ve put off for a long time, expecting something amazing and earth-shattering. And though I rather enjoyed the film, it wasn’t quite the astonishing masterwork I had hoped for. Nonetheless, it’s a pulpy, politically charged (the sheer amount of Red panic is almost excruciating) tale of the terrors of conformity. (B)
A lonely foley worker (Tobey Jones) out of his element gets mixed up with an auteur’s quest to make a truly horrifying film. Along the way, slicing up cabbages, yanking on turnips and drowning melons to stimulate stabbings, scalpings and suffocations begins to wear on his uneasy English psyche. The intriguing premise sees Jones wrestle with some heavy and heady material and leaves us an audience as an indirect observer to the horror and violence that is affecting him so deeply. As the lines between reality and film begin to blur, Berberian Sound Studio takes a b-line to a trippy dimension that it never seems to ever make sense of nor get out of. The cold ending leaves us without much closure and unsure of exactly everything that had transpired in the first place. Compelling and worthy of a chance, though I’m not entirely convinced that everything really adds up in the end, Berberian Sound Studio certainly makes its mark by standing out from the rest of the crowd. (C+)
Perhaps imaginative for its time, Child’s Play is a classic example of 80’s horror movies that just don’t really hold up all that well today. The plot is thin, as are the characters and Chucky is creepier asking for a hug than he is wielding a butcher’s knife. The humor beats also come across as a little saggy and dated, the scribe obviously not yet well versed in the fine art of horror-comedy. More seasonal background noise than anything worthy of actually watching, Child’s Play is, as its name implies, play. Had it a little more depth, a little less kid acting and a lot more imagination, it would have fared better in today’s extreme horror climate. (C)
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First of all, I’m gonna throw down the NSFW gauntlet for these 13 most disturbing movies of the last 13 years because what you are about to witness is, as the name suggests, a list of not exactly your grandma’s horror movies. These are the most twisted, most gnarly, most graphic horror films ever. Their intent is to scar you. Their purpose, to become your nightmare. In the patheon of twisted, these reign supreme. The sample pictures I’ve included alone should be enough to scare you off from ever watching any of these twisted entries in a troubled genre. Treat this as a dare, not a suggestion. You enter the territory of the twisted on your own accord. If you’re still around by the second to last entry, may God have mercy on your soul. Read More
First of all, I’m gonna throw down the NSFW gauntlet for these 13 most disturbing horror movies of the last 13 years because what you are about to witness is, as the name suggests, a list of not exactly your grandma’s horror movies. These are the most twisted, most gnarly, most graphic horror films ever. Their intent is to scar you. Their purpose, to become your nightmare. In the patheon of twisted, these reign supreme. The sample pictures I’ve included alone should be enough to scare you off from ever watching any of these twisted entries in a troubled genre. Treat this as a dare, not a suggestion. You enter the territory of the twisted on your own accord. If you’re still around by the second to last entry, may God have mercy on your soul. Read More
With Tusk, it’s easy to note that Kevin Smith has a sense of humor like a kid roasting ants with a magnifying glass. From the years since he entered the stage with Clerks, he’s morphed his convenience store potty mouth into something more sick and politically sharp. As he tries out his new bags, his brand of black humor has become more veiled, indelicate and urgent. It’s become something far more sinister. Something far grosser. Such being the case, Tusk is sick, sharp, sinister, indelicate, and totally fucking gross.
Since the great Smith vs. Critics Cop Out bout of 2010, Smith has changed irreversibly. The infinitely superior Red State – a film I found massively interesting and one of the man’s finest works – was easy evidence of that. His newfound union with frequent Quentin Tarantino collaborator Michael Parks has seemed to spur within his writing something almost unpalatably dark and twisted but also dementedly funny, embroidered with low-boiling real world commentary. Tusk is the natural progress of taking that menacing, almost humorless comedy and no-holds-barred horror to the edge of full blown psychosis and hanging there until we can hang no more.
Our entrance to Smith’s beautiful dark twisted fantasy that is Tusk is through Wallace (Justin Long), a loony podcaster who “made 100 grand last year” at the expense of others. Having emerged from the cocoon of a loser nobody, Wallace is a changed man. He’s rich, he’s popular; he’s finally a cool kid. To rightfully jealous girlfriend Ally (Genesis Rodriguez) he soliloquizes – in sonnets of fart jokes and curse words – about how he likes the “new” Wallace. With the foreboding ratcheted up to cabin in the woods levels, Smith unleashes the red herrings like doves at a funeral.
After Wallace’s trip to the Canadian providence of Manitoba to interview an accidentally self-mutilating YouTube star – deemed “The Kill Bill Kid” – results in a dead end, he becomes serendipitously wrapped up in a jackpot of a story and a walrus of a storyteller in Howard Howe (Parks). At his reclusive Bifrost mansion filled with treasures and trophies of adventures past, Howe waxes prosaically on his exploits at sea before getting to the proverbial gold of his story – one that brings a shipwrecked Howe into the loving bosom of a full grown walrus nicknamed Mr. Tusk. Never has such a respectful, tender relationship existed between humans, Howe contends. After so many years, Howe just wants his friend back and it appears that Wallace arrived just in time to help make it happen.
Panicked by Wallace’s untimely disappearance, Ally and Wallace’s podcast co-host Teddy (Haley Joel Osment) seek out the help of drunken discredited detective Guy Lapointe – played by none other than the wacky Johnny Depp under the pseudonym Guy LaPointe– to get to the bottom of what is really going on. Depp, per usual, is the most unbound performer on set and his oddball antics get so extreme as to take us out of the moment and cuts through the tension like a magician farting in the midst of his act.
From a douchey megalomaniac to a scrambling captive, Long offers up ample evidence of why he was made for horror movies. Restricted in his later portions to just communicating with his eyes, Long is the embodiment of fear and he displays a range of emotions through his hazelnut baby blues. Lording over him, Parks is just as revelatory. His twisted gumption and rhetorical acrobatics prove there’s nothing more frightening than a well-learned mad man on a rant that would be rather lowly ranked on the sanity pole. Though the compassion is mostly meant for hyperbole’s sake, Smith seems to have found his Christopher Waltz in Parks. The two work together like blood and bones.
There to make it all happen, makeup supervisor Robert Kurtzman – not to be confused with The Walking Dead‘s Robert Kirkman – has sewn together what may be the most disturbing practical effects showcase that I can possibly think of, offering up pure, untarnished nightmare fuel in the form of the the new born Mr. Tusk. Kurtzman’s handicrafts are a patchwork of OMG, a sickening stitch of new age body horror. To coin a phrase, it’s as disturbing as watching a man eat through his own hip.
As much a deranged freak show as any episode of American Horror Story, Tusk seeks to define that age old question: is man really a walrus? And though Smith’s walrus opus could use sharper editing, a greater emphasis on somberness and even more Michael Parks musings, good god has had made a true haunter.
As effective as any high dosage caffeine pill, Tusk is a wildly original, tonally inconsistent, totally appalling smorgasbord of nightmare fuel that won’t soon stop haunting me. Smith and Kurtzman’s inhuman union presents nothing short of disturbing imagery, doomed to forever rattle around my brain. With Tusk, Smith performs his own Kafkaesque lobotomy. It’s “Metamorphosis” a la The Human Centipede. It’s The Fly meets Hostel. For those weak of stomach and mind, it might be advisable to bring a barf bag.
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