And these days, the "hero" of the show would be painted as a simple good guy. Still, The Intruder cleverly plays on this trope by having Arnold come across as a rather petulant child; yes, his life has been thrown upside down. Still, the way he steps all over anyone who wants to help him, and his reactions to his friends and family, all make the viewer keep their distance from him in terms of having any sympathy for him.  


Acting-wise, most of the cast of The Intruder is what you expect from a British production of this era. However, Milton Johns' performance is something to behold. For me, Milton has always been an actor who had this aura of creepiness about him, and in The Intruder, he plays on this to perfection. Despite there being no supernatural or fantastical elements to this story, he exudes a pure fairy tale villain feel to his whole performance. Whenever he is on screen, you are always ever so slightly on edge.  


Of the four releases from Network,  The Intruder is probably the most niche and least remembered, and I certainly don't have any recollection of it. I always wonder if our memories of these sorts of TV shows and those of my generation hold an almost sacred level of reverence that can sometimes blind the critical eye and if those of a younger disposition will get as much enjoyment from them as we do. However, The Intruder remains a powerful piece of television, and hopefully, this new release will open it up to old fans and a whole new audience as well.  ​

Mona Lisa and the Blood Moon

When a struggling single mother befriends a mysterious woman who has supernatural powers, she sees a lucrative opportunity to make some fast cash. However, their crime spree soon draws unwanted attention as the cops start to close in.
Release date: 30 September 2022 (USA)
Director: Ana Lily Amirpour
Screenplay: Ana Lily Amirpour
Distributed by: Saban Capital Group
Music by: Daniele Luppi
Produced by: John Lesher; Dylan Weathered; Adam Mirels; Robbie Mirels


A Horror Movie Review by Hope Madden

In 2014, filmmaker Ana Lily Amirpour made her magnificence known with the lonesome, hip, bloody black and white treasure A Girl Walks Home Alone at Night. She followed that up in 2016 with the heady dystopian nightmare The Bad Batch.

Both films busy themselves with the survival and camaraderie of outcasts. They have this in common with Amirpour’s latest, Mona Lisa and the Blood Moon.

On the surface, it may appear that the vampire fable, post-apocalyptic yarn and Big Easy thriller lack any other unifying thread. Untrue. Each is about a singular female making surprising choices across an imaginative – if sometimes bloody – adventure.

Though eventually awash in NOLA neon, Blood Moon’s opening glides hypnotically through bayou waters, the night sky reflected so perfectly in the water you can’t tell up from down.

Jeon Jong-seo (Burning) is Mona Lisa Lee. For at least a decade she’s been nonresponsive in a facility for adolescents. (Is that so? Why the straight jacket, then?) But on this very night, as the moon rises red and round over the bayou, Mona taps into a strange power and the first of many flavors emerge in this strange gumbo. It appears we’ve stumbled into the origin story of some superhero – or super villain?

Whichever, don’t get too comfortable because soon enough Amirpour’s aesthetic weaves together influences and notions from a broad and colorful menu. The next thing you know, you’re witnessing a side of Kate Hudson you wish more filmmakers had unveiled.

Mona stumbles upon the Bourbon Street stripper in a late-night hamburger joint. One quick look at Mona’s talent and Bonnie Belle has dollar signs in her eyes. It’s a performance so brash and human that it grounds an otherwise fantasy tale in the stinky glitter of New Orleans.

A welcome Craig Robinson gives the film the feel of a noir-ish mystery, while the delightful Ed Skrein steals scenes and hearts as dealer/dj Fuzz.
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Once Mona befriends Bonnie’s latchkey son (Evan Whitten), sentimentality becomes a worry. No need! Amirpour offsets every sweet moment with a surprise of brutality, every bloodletting with a bit of tenderness, all of it bathed in neon and EDM. It’s a dizzying mix, but that makes three for three for this filmmaker.

Hope Madden is a writer and award-winning filmmaker living with her husband George and cat Velma in Columbus, Ohio. She writes what scares her, which worked out fine until she became a filmmaker and had to live what scared her for the duration of a shoot. Terrible decision. Her novella, Roost, was published in 2022 by Off Limits Press and her first feature film releases in late 2022.

Blank

A desperate writer signs up for a fully A.I. operated retreat to cure her writer's block, but when an unforeseen software glitch occurs, she gets trapped inside her unit with an unstable android and no communication with the outside world.
Director
Natalie Kennedy
Writer
Stephen Herman

A Horror Movie Review by Tori Hanes

Blank, the freshman feature from director Natalie Kennedy, follows successful author Claire Rivers (Rachel Shelley) as she struggles through a nearly debilitating spout of writer’s block. More desperate to appease her publishers than unlock her unwritten story, Claire enrolls in an AI-controlled retreat.

Here, Claire’s every concern that is not creatively driven is managed by her two AI helpers, Henry (Wayne Brady) and Rita (Heida Reed). After a system failure leaves her assistants less than primed to assist, Claire’s writer’s block turns from a professional detriment to a nearly fatal flaw. 

The film is immediately and consistently enthralling from a visual perspective. Kennedy and cinematographer James Oldham are determined to not fall into the dull, gray color pallets plaguing the 2010s/2020’s horror and thriller genre. While their palettes reflect the somber and intensive mood, they stay original and fresh – never allowing the eye to grow weary with dreaded slate monotony. 

Even when the script begins to fail the visuals remain interesting, sometimes dragging the narrative by the arm to keep up with audience expectations. This tactic succeeds. Even if you rack your brains post-film to recall the midsection of the narrative, the mood created by these stunning visuals sticks out. 

The story has a tendency to stumble over its ambition. Starting off with a solid swing, Blank engrosses with its interesting and eerie world right off the bat.

However, the meat of Stephen Herman’s script relies less on story than on thriller tropes: repetition, unsettling visuals, eerie background narrative. That is not to say Blank ceases to enthrall. Instead, the interest shifts to a confused unease, only to be resolved at the dramatic and anxiety-inducing climax.

Kennedy gets hung up on some clunky metaphors. Rita, Claire’s personal AI assistant, takes on a traditional 1950s housewife style. Her compliance and eventual resolution mirror obvious calls for morality in human-created intelligence. While it makes sense for Kennedy to approach this ethical dilemma, the lack of subtlety tarnishes the message. 
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As most writers can attest, a bad case of writer’s block can leave you begging for an escape. Blank creatively and (most important) intriguingly shows why reopening your laptop and continuing your story may be the best choice.

A born and raised Ohioan currently transplanted in Los Angeles, Tori Hanes works in Creative Licensing for video games and is a freelance writer.
A graduate from DePaul University’s BFA program in screenwriting, she is also a Reader for Coverfly. In her free time, Tori is usually playing on her Switch, defending movie musicals, or hanging out with her cat Pickles.
Thanks for visiting!

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I stumbled across the original Terrifier and Art the Clown by accident last year after hearing about them on a podcast. The podcast team were very enthusiastic, so I thought I would give it a go. It’s certainly not for everyone, and not necessarily the sort of horror I normally gravitate towards, but I did find myself enjoying it in all its retro, grimy, gory glory! Terrifier is an 80s video nasty for the 21st Century, so I was looking forward to Terrifier 2 to see how the team had built on the first film.

At the end of Terrifier, Art shoots himself rather than be captured by the police, after leaving his last victim, Vicky Heyes (Samantha Scaffidi) without a face, although she miraculously survives.

And so does Art.

Terrifier 2 takes up where the first film left off and we see Art resurrected in the morgue he wound up in at the end of Terrifier. He kills the attendant and then prepares for the next round of murders by stripping off in a laundrette to clean his costume. He teams up with the demonic manifestation of one of his previous victims (a young girl), kills an unsuspecting customer, and sets off to terrorise the people of Miles County once more.

Terrifier 2 starts proper about a year on from the original murders and Art has become a legend; a bogeyman whose body was never found, and everyone is talking about. The legend is strengthened by the survivor of his original spree, Tara, who attacks a TV interviewer (see the original film) and tears her face off in much the same way Art did to her. Everyone is talking about Art!

Sister and brother Sienna and Jonathan (Lauren LaVera and Elliott Fullam) live with their mother and are recovering from the recent death of their father. Jonathan is obsessed with serial killers, especially Art the Clown and, after an unpleasant experience at school, Jonathan is convinced Art is back. However, true to form, no one believes him, and the town just carries on with its planned Halloween revelries while Jonathan gets grounded for causing trouble.

The rest of the cast also do a great job, and Lauren LaVera makes a great “final girl” as Sienna, kicking ass and taking some serious punishment from Art as she fights to save herself and her brother.

The biggest problem for me was a bit of a “deus ex machina” moment towards the end of the film. Without spoiling too much, there was a point where I really did think that Sienna had taken far too much punishment to survive, and the resolution felt like an easy out. However, that is a personal view, and your mileage may vary.

And finally, the running time. 2 hours and 18 minutes is long for a horror, and I did feel that there was some padding. I wouldn’t say I got bored with it, there is plenty of Art doing his thing to keep everyone entertained, but I can’t help feeling that it could have been cut to maybe an hour and forty-five minutes and not lost any of its impact. A shorter, tighter film might even have made it more of a blunt instrument and more effective for it. Again, entirely personal, and the film never drags despite the lengthy run time.

These are all fairly small quibbles considering the real purpose of Terrifier 2 is to have fun with Art, be unsettling and provide gratuitous gore. And Terrifier 2 doesn’t disappoint on any of those fronts.

Ultimately, if you had a good time with Art first time around, you are going to enjoy Terrifier 2. My frustrations are fairly minor, and I fully admit that I am not a dyed-in-the-wool gore-hound. However, I didn’t feel Terrifier 2 offered anything particularly new over Terrifier and, if the hints at a third instalment are to be realised, I think there is a danger of stagnation if Art doesn’t try something a little different next time around!

Having said that, I will definitely be up for another trip around the block with Art.

Four years after her last encounter with masked killer Michael Myers, Laurie Strode is living with her granddaughter and trying to finish her memoir. Myers hasn't been seen since, and Laurie finally decides to liberate herself from rage and fear and embrace life. However, when a young man stands accused of murdering a boy that he was babysitting, it ignites a cascade of violence and terror that forces Laurie to confront the evil she can't control.
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Release date: 14 October 2022 (United Kingdom)
Director: David Gordon Green
Music composed by: John Carpenter, Cody Carpenter, Daniel Davies

A Horror Movie Review by Hope Madden and George Wolf

In 2018, director David Gordon Green and writer Danny McBride did the almost unthinkable, something often tried but rarely accomplished. They made a good Halloween movie. Three years later they did what a lot of people have done. They made a bad sequel.

But the second film in a trilogy is tricky business. The origin story is out of the way and you can’t kill the villain – everyone already knows a third installment is coming. Some filmmakers thrive in that middle space, but most tread water until the big climax.

Well, that big climax is here. Laurie Strode (Jamie Lee Curtis) and Michael Myers (James Jude Courtney) face off in the final piece of Greene’s trilogy, Halloween Ends.

The bad second installment was better.

Rohan Campbell is Corey, a misunderstood outcast with tousled hair, bee stung lips and a motorcycle. The Strode women take a shine to him, Laure introducing him to granddaughter Allyson (Andi Matichak). But Haddonfield is pretty tough on Autumn romance, and this story is too rushed to resonate, too dull to be truly angsty.

Green has made some really good movies: George Washington, All the Real Girls, Undertow, Snow Angels, Pineapple Express, Joe, Halloween. One of the most impressive things about that list is the way it crosses genres like there is no border from one to the next. His first episode in the series was a mash note to the original. He wisely ignored all the other sequels and reboots and just brought us a clear vision for an Act 2.

Then, in lieu of a cohesive story, Green caves to some desire to pepper a sequel with odes and easter eggs in honor of all the franchise installments. He and co-writers McBride, Chris Bernier and Paul Brad Logan pick up an idea hinted at in two earlier episodes across the full constellation of films. An honest to god original thought would have been better.

It’s a sidetrack that some longtime fans might embrace, but the execution is littered with missteps. The new relationships do not feel authentic, much of the internal logic is questionable, and forget about scary, the film is too tired to even develop effective tension. There aren’t even any good kills.

We do get the final Laurie v Michael showdown that the title promises, which is a welcome return to giving the legendary Curtis some opportunity for badassery. But while Green & company manage a couple late-stage surprises, this is ultimately a disappointing end, with the highest of hopes limping to the finish with only lukewarm satisfaction.

George “Screen” Wolf is co-founder and writer for maddwolf.com. He’s also  film critic for Saga Communications radio (25 markets across the US), Columbus Underground and UK Film Review.

In Columbus, Ohio, you can catch George on TV every Friday morning on ABC6/Fox28’s Good Day Columbus.

George is a member of the Columbus Film Critics Association, and lives in Grandview Heights with his wife, Hope Madden. Their son Donovan lives in L.A. George enjoys music, politics, his Harley, sports, travelling, and, oh yeah, movies!

The Scary of 61st (2021)

Two roommates' lives are upended after finding out that their new Manhattan apartment harbors a dark secret. Two roommates' lives are upended after finding out that their new Manhattan apartment harbors a dark secret.

Written by Dasha Nekrasova and Madeline Quinn
Directed by Dasha Nekrasova
A Horror Movie Review by Mark Walker

If it had run with that and played as a tribute to those classic Giallos, Scary would have worked a lot better than it did. However, as I started watching the film, I had to double-check if was supposed to be a comedy.

It is, but the humour just didn’t hit for me. I am not saying it isn’t funny, but for me it didn’t work. It doesn’t seem to have made up its mind if it is a comedy tribute or a piss-take of the Giallo. In some places it captures the style and atmosphere perfectly but, where the comedy comes in it came across as the latter which, for me, just felt a bit mean-spirited. The deliberately bad acting also feeds into the retro feel of the film but, how funny you find that will depend entirely on the viewer.

Another issue for me is that none of the characters are particularly sympathetic, which makes it harder to care about what happens to them. I don’t know if this is part of the comedy of the film but, again, for me, it didn’t work, I just found Addie and Noelle annoying. I am still not sure why these two were friends, let alone renting an apartment together! I don’t have to like characters for them to be sympathetic, but if I feel neither for them, then I just can’t get overly invested in their fate.

Now, I suspect there will be many film aficionados who will be able to tell me how wrong I am and, perhaps, I am not knowledgeable enough of the Giallo genre to really appreciate what is going on here but, ultimately, I just got a little distracted. In keeping with the Giallo style, Scary is clearly designed to shock, but much of that felt like the team was trying to see what they could get away with.  Having someone masturbate with (yes, with, not to) a picture of Prince Andrew feels designed purely to shock and was only loosely related to the minimal plot surrounding Epstein. I’m all for shocks and controversy, but make it make sense.
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Perhaps it could be argued that the plot is not always a strength of the Giallo, and I was expecting too much from Scary but, ultimately, it fell a bit flat for me.

I’ve been a bit negative about The Scary of 61st but, remember, this is just my opinion and die-hard Giallo fans may get more out of the movie than I did. There is clearly talent and potential on show here, and Nekrasova does a great job with her direction capturing that retro Giallo feel. For me it was just the story that let it down. I would be interested to see more from Nekrasova, and Scary definitely hasn’t put me off seeing what the team comes up with next.


So, what about the disc as a whole?

Grain is always something that divides audiences. Used well, it can really enhance the filmic quality of digital images, but it is easy to overdo it. I appreciate it was used in Scary to emphasise the Giallo aesthetic but, on this occasion, it feels a bit heavy-handed in places. It’s a personal thing though and I did get used to it once I settled down into the movie.

The effects are suitably grimy and again pay tribute to the Giallo. There isn’t as much gore as you might expect from a Giallo, but the last reel of the film won’t disappoint anyone hoping for a bit of blood.

Grain aside, the picture quality was good. and the images are backed up by a solid 5.1 Master Audio soundtrack.

The special edition release comes with a number of bonuses including:

• Collector’s Edition Slipcase with new artwork by Chris Crow & Sloth Visuals
• Collector’s Edition Booklet: Includes new essays by Caitlyn Downs, Zoé Rose Smith and Janine Pipe
• 6 Art Cards
• Limited to 2,000 units
• Audio Commentary with Dasha Nekrasova and co-writer/actress Madeline Quinn
• Audio Commentary with film historians and authors Alexandra Heller-Nicholas and Josh Nelson
• Q&A with Dasha Nekrasova from Beyond Fest 2021
• "Metaphysical Repercussions" - an interview with co-writer/director/actress Dasha Nekrasova
• "Doing the Undoable and Saying the Unsayable" - an interview with actress Betsey Brown
• "Watching the (Armchair) Detectives" - an interview with producer/actor Mark H. Rapaport
• Trailer​​

On the whole, Scary is not a film I would revisit again, it just wasn’t for me I am afraid; there was more than one glance at my watch for this one. However, for existing fans of the movie and anyone interested in Nekrasova’s take on the Giallo, then the special edition looks like a nice addition to your collection and is an attractive little package. Although it wasn’t an instant classic for me, Scary is a promise of more to come from Nekrasova and the team.


The Scary of Sixty-First is on limited edition Blu-ray 3 October from Fractured Visions ​

A young woman must confront the sadistic, supernatural forces behind an enigmatic puzzle box responsible for her brother's disappearance.

Director: David Bruckner
Staring: Odessa A'zion, Jamie Clayton, Brandon Flynn, Drew Starkey,  Selina Lo
Goran Višnjić
​Story by: Clive Barker, David S. Goyer

The original Hellraiser (1987) was a gamechanger for my imagination. I was probably thirteen, and it popped up on Sci-Fi Channel, and in hindsight it was, A. not appropriate viewing at that age, and B. like my mind had cracked open same as the walls in the film whenever the Cenobites appear.

Our seemingly solid world might only be a thin layer atop others, with reality a stack of paper in which worms chew through page by page.

I’d like to think the horror community as a whole let out a cheer when Clive Barker regained the movie rights to the Hellraiser series. Now we’re supposedly getting a show on HBO, and a new Hellraiser film has released on Hulu. We’ve had ten films previously, and I can’t claim the same devotion as Paula Ashe considering I’ve only watched the good Hellraiser films.

But thankfully I haven’t broken that streak, because David Bruckner’s Hellraiser is the first solid entry the series has seen in decades.*

(*At least from what I understand, and I have no desire to watch eight films of poor reputation to find out; I’ll just take Paula’s word for it, thank you!)

Riley (Odessa A’zion) is a recovering addict looking to make rent money, and through her boyfriend (Drew Starkey) gets her hands on the Lament Configuration without knowing what it is or does. After a loved one vanishes and the box begins to change, she embarks on an investigation into learning its origins in hopes of putting things right.

That’s the simple setup to what becomes both a dive into new Hellraiser lore and a series of murders/sacrifices to the box and the Cenobites it summons from their deathless realm.

You won’t necessarily find the same seamless interplay between the new Hellraiser and the original as you can find in Candyman (2021)’s conversation with Candyman (1992), in which the original film feels part of a larger spectrum.

But Hellraiser (2022) creates that larger spectrum itself, glimpsed in the film’s opening and seen in full between the climax and the very end. There’s a method to its design, helpfully laid out in a discovered notebook midway through the movie, showcasing greater depths of possibility and horror to what the Lament Configuration offers.

Hellbound: Hellraiser II is a terrific movie, and my minor gripe with it is that it presents the Cenobites’ realm as an aspect closer to a Christian hell of penance and personalization torture. This clashes with Hellraiser’s “explorers” and certainly now that I’ve recently read The Hellbound Heart with a better understanding (much as mortals can attempt) for the Order of the Gash. In both book and film, Frank Cotton is a hedonist who lacks the imagination to find greater pleasure in the world. This leads him to seek pleasure outside the world, through the puzzle box the films have named the Lament Configuration, where the same lack of imagination keeps him from realizing until too late that the Cenobites’ definition of pleasure might differ wildly from his own.

But Hellraiser II introduces brilliant ideas, too, and Hellraiser (2002) interweaves many of those and ideas of the original film and book to create its own layer of mythos surrounding the Cenobites, the puzzle box, and the god Leviathan. Gone is any sense that we’ve entered a hell adjacent to existing organized religion or mythos. The new film is the work of people who genuinely understand the uniqueness of Hellraiser, and they expand on it.


This is cosmic horror. The Cenobites are explorers once more, of the body and its limits, of sensations, potential, and even human will, and again their idea of pleasure differs wildly from the human characters facing them.

The Cenobite designs are everything I could want. Gone are the awkwardly gimmicky Cenobites of post-Hellbound sequels, such as Hellraiser III: Hell on Earth’s CD Cenobite or camera Cenobite. Everyone working on the makeup, costumes, and special effects surrounding the new film’s Cenobites has shown understanding that the incredible mutilation is the point, with flesh distorted into impressive art displays. Through this, the Cenobites become not only explorers in sensation, but admirers of aesthetic, though whether that’s their own desire or their god’s is left unsaid.

Jamie Clayton gives a wonderful performance as the Priest. Her conversations with characters ascend beyond Scary Movie Monster and take on the tone of someone who really wants you to understand her point of view while also being patient and cryptic. Her unsettling calm never wavers, and she’s all the more intimidating and entrancing for it.

This is a very different character from Douglas Bradley’s Pinhead while no less majestic. In the original film, there’s an almost fairy tale logic to the scene where Kirsty (Ashley Laurence) offers a deal to the monster, and the monster actually listens.

Here, the Priest desires such arrangements. The depravity human beings might sink to when eager to save themselves or a loved one intrigues her, and she has a catlike level of curiosity when observing the characters and hearing them out.

My only significant gripe about the new movie is the near-slasher feel of the first half, wherein the box’s progression is linked to the Cenobites’ present kill count. While likely the restraint shown early on is meant to build anticipation for the Cenobites’ reveals, on first viewing it feels like perfunctory, like the narrative needs to get people out of the way despite the early deaths being important to the plot and in one case to the characters. My feelings on that, and other elements of the movie, might change on later views, and I’ll definitely be coming back. Any gripes aside, this is a mesmerizing film in script, sight, and sound.

In the spirit of the Cenobites, I’m going to indulge on sound here: Christopher Young’s score to Hellraiser (1987) is one of my all-time favorites. It’s the only film score where I bought the original way back, and then later bought the 30th Anniversary remaster. That’s not a “music to write to” thing; I genuinely enjoy listening to it. It is grandiose, alluring, distressing, and unlike any other movie music of the time. Hellbound only expands on this, and I’d forgotten most of its gorgeous score until recently rewatching the movie.

In scoring Hellraiser (2022), Ben Lovett beautifully weaves in several of Young’s themes throughout the film. Some of them are subtle renditions of previous music, some even feel like sound effects playing a monophonic version of other themes, but by midway through, the new film has taken on those themes to make them its own, and by late we’re in full-blown “this is the sound of Hellraiser” territory. Time will tell if I fall in love with this score as much as I have for the first two films, but musical cohesion is significant to a film series, and Lovett’s devotion and attention to detail keep the new film feeling it’s part of a legacy.

Devotees to the original first two films might complain that the new one can’t capture the look and feel of Hellraiser (1987) or Hellbound: Hellraiser II, but that’s more an admission (brag?) at having not seen the other sequels (there are ten films in the original series). It’s been over thirty years, and movies don’t look the way they used to, special effects have changed, even gore effects will not be as chunky as they were in the ‘80s. We’re not getting that delicious labyrinth matte painting again, my loves.

Still, Hellraiser (2022) carries its own look and feel. The colors take on an otherworldly turquoise at times, bringing out the Cenobites’ dark eyes and accentuating the red of their flesh distortions. For the significance of their practical effects, the special effects make their own mark. Where walls once shifted to light and corridor in the original film, now anything can open to the Cenobites. There’s a scene involving the back of a van turning into a corridor-like liminal space that both looks wonderful and shows the filmmakers’ willingness to get wild with possibilities, which I personally adore. Too many movies these days show less a fear of their darker elements and more a fear that the audience might laugh at them, or dismiss them.
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In the end, I admire a film like Hellraiser (2022) that boldly bends reality and then both trusts and demands that its audience accept displays of the impossible.

Hellraiser
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A young woman must confront the sadistic, supernatural forces behind an enigmatic puzzle box responsible for her brother's disappearance.

Director: David Bruckner
Story by: Clive Barker, David S. Goyer

A Horror Movie Review by Hope Madden and George Wolf

Did you know that this is the 11th film in the Hellraiser franchise? There are 10 others, most of them terrible, a couple unwatchable. Why? How could it be so hard to create fresh horror from Clive Barker’s kinky treasure trove?

It appears David Bruckner (The Ritual, The Night House) wonders the same thing. He and screenwriters Ben Collins, Luke Piotrowski and David S. Goyer had no trouble peeling the flesh from this franchise and exposing something raw and pulsing.

Oh yes, and gay, but if you didn’t pick up on any of the gay themes in out-and-proud Barker’s series before they cast a trans woman to play The Priest aka “Pinhead,” you missed a lot.

Jamie Clayton, with a massive thanks to makeup and costume, offers a glorious new image of pain. In fact, the creature design in this film surpasses anything we’ve seen in the previous ten installments, including Barker’s original. Each is a malevolent vision of elegance, gore and suffering, their attire seemingly made of their own flayed flesh.

There’s also a story, and a decent one at that. Bruckner’s core themes replace the S&M leanings with trauma and addiction, following a young addict named Riley (Odessa A’zion) as she ruins everyone and everything she touches.

Riley’s boyfriend Trevor (Drew Starkey) has some inside info on where rich people stash their valuables, but when the two break open a safe… there’s only that strange puzzle box inside. 

And what a glorious puzzler it is.

Like everything about the film’s visual design, there’s new richness and lethal detail to the box. It hides complicated new configurations, and Bruckner – whose horror cred is now firmly established – reveals them in intriguing tandem with the slippery rewards offered by the Cenobites.
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Fans of the original classic may have been understandable wary of a rebranding, but this new vision overcomes a slightly bloated buildup for a more than satisfying crescendo. The kinks may be gone, but the chains are still chilling, in a darkly beautiful world full of sensual, bloody delights to show you.

George “Screen” Wolf is co-founder and writer for maddwolf.com. He’s also  film critic for Saga Communications radio (25 markets across the US), Columbus Underground and UK Film Review.

In Columbus, Ohio, you can catch George on TV every Friday morning on ABC6/Fox28’s Good Day Columbus.

George is a member of the Columbus Film Critics Association, and lives in Grandview Heights with his wife, Hope Madden. Their son Donovan lives in L.A. George enjoys music, politics, his Harley, sports, travelling, and, oh yeah, movies!

Contact George at maddwolf95@gmail.com.

Follow George on Facebook and Instagram @maddwolfcolumbus and on Twitter @maddwolf

Smile

After witnessing a bizarre, traumatic incident involving a patient, Dr. Rose Cotter starts experiencing frightening occurrences that she can't explain. As an overwhelming terror begins taking over her life, Rose must confront her troubling past in order to survive and escape her horrifying new reality.

​Release date: 28 September 2022

Director: Parker Finn
Music composed by: Cristobal Tapia de Veer
Distributed by: Paramount Pictures

A Horror Movie Review by by Hope Madden and George Wolf
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Man, It Follows was a great movie. It was a film that saw coming-of-age as its own type of horror, a loss of innocence that you either pass on or let kill you.

It’s a conceit that will never feel as fresh as it did then, but writer/director Parker Finn has a go with Smile.

Sosie Bacon is Dr. Rose Cotter, a therapist working in an emergency trauma unit. A woman is brought in, lashed to a gurney and screaming. Rose evaluates her in a safe space where Laura (Caitlin Stasey) can be comfortable, free. Rose listens to her paranoid, anxious story of a smiling, malevolent presence and tells Laura, as calmly as she can, that as scary as these ideas may feel, they can’t harm her.

Rose is wrong. And so begins a very borrowed and yet often powerful meditation on the nature of trauma and the state of mental health stigma.

Bacon delivers a believably brittle performance as the character who knows she’s right, even if everyone believes she’s crazy. But there’s more to this genre trope, given that Finn’s entire theme is an exploration of mental health. As a therapist and also a woman suffering from trauma, Rose can see her current situation more clearly than most.

There’s honesty, depth and empathy at work here, a 360-degree look at mental health and the systems and norms that affect people. Smile is also a clear metaphor for trauma and its insidious ripple effect.

It’s also a showcase for a fine supporting cast, and a few good, if borrowed, jump scares and freaky images. Kyle Gallner is particularly solid, and both Robin Weigert and Rob Morgan deliver traumatizing performances in small roles.

Turning something as inherently harmless as a smile into a threatening gesture carries a primal creepiness that Finn exploits pretty effectively throughout the film. Even so, the nearly two-hour running time feels bloated as Rose’s search for the origins of her curse begins to drag.
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Her detective work – plus one very familiar shot – make Smile an easily recognizable marriage of It Follows and The Ring. Credit Finn for not hiding his intentions, and crafting some thought-provoking frights in the process.

Hope Madden is a writer and award-winning filmmaker living with her husband George and cat Velma in Columbus, Ohio. She writes what scares her, which worked out fine until she became a filmmaker and had to live what scared her for the duration of a shoot. Terrible decision. Her novella, Roost, was published in 2022 by Off Limits Press and her first feature film releases in late 2022.

Devil’s Workshop

A struggling actor spends a weekend with a female daemonologist to prepare for an audition.

Release date: 30 September 2022 (USA)
Director: Chris von Hoffmann

A Horror Movie Review by Hope Madden

I hate to admit this, but my first thought upon screening Devil’s Workshop was that we don’t need another low budget exorcism movie – or worse yet, another ghost hunter demonologist movie. I am pleased to report that writer/director Chris von Hoffmann’s latest horror offering is not “just another” anything.

The premise seems garden variety enough. Struggling actor Clayton (Timothy Granaderos, Who Invited Them) auditions for the part of a demonologist in a new low-budget indie. His competition, Donald (Emile Hirsch), is a social climbing douche who gets whatever he wants. To sharpen his edge for the callback, Clayton hires a real demonologist to train him for the performance.

That demonologist is played by Radha Mitchell, who’s both wonderful and evidence that von Hoffman has something unusual up his sleeve.

The filmmaker cuts between earnest, insecure Clayton undertaking his eerily authentic preparation, and narcissist Donald, preparing in his own way. As von Hoffman does this, he comments on the main theme of his film: a knowing, sly analogy of the process of acting, from ridiculous to pretentious to dangerous.

What emerges is a cheeky, cynical but not hateful application of the mantras and exercises meant to break an actor down and open them up to the demons that will create a better performance.

Two things are necessary for Devil’s Workshop to pull this off: stellar acting (or the metaphor falls apart) and genuine horror (or the metaphor overwhelms the story).

The acting is stellar, beginning with Mitchell. Her giggles and offhanded terms of endearment, hand gestures and facial expressions create an elusive character. Granaderos, so impressive as the sinister partygoer in Who Invited Them, adopts a wide-eyed insecurity that suits von Hoffman’s style.

Rather than drawing our eye to the speaker, von Hoffman’s camera lingers on the listener. The choice captures Clayton’s discomfort, sometimes for a troubling length of time, creating unease.
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The horror does well enough for nearly long enough. A couple of times it’s effective, but it never rises to true scares. Worse still, the payoff doesn’t land. In the end, von Hoffman’s insiders-view of the dangers in submitting entirely to a part falls just short of success.

Hope Madden is a writer and award-winning filmmaker living with her husband George and cat Velma in Columbus, Ohio. She writes what scares her, which worked out fine until she became a filmmaker and had to live what scared her for the duration of a shoot. Terrible decision. Her novella, Roost, was published in 2022 by Off Limits Press and her first feature film releases in late 2022.