Two observations;

Observation one;

Some things are best experienced just the once. At Universal Studios in Florida, there's a Jurassic Park Ride. It's promoted as a lovely sedate cruise through some of the various impressive dinosaur exhibits there but, within minutes of it starting, everything went horribly wrong. Turned out that some Velociraptors and a T. Rex had escaped from their paddocks and were raising hell.  The staff assured us that this wouldn't affect our experience – but this was at best, hopelessly naïve. Criminally so, in hindsight.

It made our experience terrifying. Not only did we have to dangerously traverse a section of the park crawling with the vicious clawed bastards, but we only narrowly escaped our boat being devoured by the gaping maw of a slavering Tyrannosaurus Rex. What should have been a dream holiday was somewhat tainted by this horrifying experience.

Naively, we went on the same ride three days later. And, bugger me, if the same mishaps didn't occur again. Shoddy health and safety at best, and this in a park with thousands of visitors a day. Appalling negligence.

Observation two;

"Style over Substance," is a commonly used phrase in critique, an indication that whereas something may be visually or orally striking, there isn't a great deal of depth or meaning to it. It's designed as a barb, a word as equally weighted as "pretentious" to pour scorn on something that isn't deemed to have the necessary highbrow/lowbrow values or qualities to achieve some invisible abstracted standard.

I'll give away my age here, but in the early-to-mid-eighties only one type of music existed. It was made solely by men, a few of whom were guitar virtuosos called Mark. Some wore headbands, T-shirts only came in white, and all its various (typically middle-age) idols wore single or double – and in some rare ostentatious cases, triple denim - and keyboards were designed to be stabbed at viciously or worn around the neck.

At least only one type of music existed to me. These fretted warriors sang stoic ballads of Brothers in Arms, former capitals of Brazil, Mad Worlds and of money for nothing (and chicks for free) as well as Bricks in Walls (parts 1 and 2). The insidious agency of Stock, Aitken and Waterman did their damned best to intrude on my little world, but my sophisticated teen ears had become well trained in filtering them out.

I was a musical snob. I listened to one type of music, although was clearly refined and sophisticated enough to let that warp and shift – AOR become Soft Metal, Soft Metal hardened to Heavy Metal, Heavy Metal slunk into the talcum-powdered trench coats of Goth, Goth plunged screaming (in German) into Industrial. Madchester passed me by, as did the New Wave of the New Wave of the New Wave (or whatever bloody wave we were up to by now). The Blur versus Oasis Wars might well have been taking place in the Middle East, such was their relevance to me.

I probably used the phrase 'style over substance' to define the types of music I refused to listen to on more than one occasion, never really understanding quite what I was saying. It just sounded good, like repetitive overuse of the gag; “Condescending. It means ‘talk down to’.”

As I grow older, the phrase "Style over Substance" holds less and less meaning. The esoteric nature of it fades as it loses power. My musical tastes were forced to broaden, faced with an onslaught of songs from different genres that were simply too good to ignore, and there comes a time when you realise when there is a perfectly valid place for beauty for beauties sake, no hidden depths, no passive subtext.

I'm very aware that – in topical terms – I'm quite late to come to Climax (no pun intended). Expect cutting edge articles on Dead of Night (1945) very shortly. However, having seen it – or, more appropriately, experienced Climax – I feel compelled to write about it.

​Climax is a film that I have watched and have watched from start to end. I didn't know what to say when it had finished, other than I felt exhausted and needed a very long sleep.

Most of my thoughts were occupied with it the next morning at work, and at lunch I rang my wife and told her this.

She'd been singing the film's praises for several months, and had been nagging – no, encouraging me to watch it.

"See, I told you," she said, justifiably smugly.

Many of my thoughts have been occupied with it in the days that passed.

Climax (2018) opens to whiteness, an aerial shot of a barely dressed woman staggering through the snow. Dogs bark in the distance, almost drowning out her anguished cries of distress. She collapses in the snow, writhing arms forming a makeshift snow angel. She crawls on, before collapsing. Is that blood underneath her?  The camera, unconcerned by her still form, moves on.

End credits roll. Okay, so that just happened.

​A white-noise flecked VHS video tape plays on a television, each character – a dancer from a troupe – is given a name, and a short soundbite to describe themselves. Each describes their dreams, ambitions and aspirations, they elaborate their fears and the reasons that they dance.

The screen goes black, Supernature, the awesome 1977 track by Cerrone begins to play. The troupe emerges, like regimented troops to the battlefield, onto the dancefloor. We're then treated to a magnificent few minutes of cinema as the cast simply dance. The scene is part choreographed/part improvised, and I honestly don't think I breathed during the entire sequence. It's utterly joyous – dancers at the height of their skills and the peaks of their careers, utterly lost in the moment.

It's the Winter of 1996, and we’re witnessing a French dance troupe in an abandoned school having a tour after-party.

One thing you should not expect from Climax is characterisation. Some of the characters are so poorly defined that they're barely even archetypes – some of them barely delineated more than by the fact that we know their actual or stage names. It's interesting that we learn a lot about many of the characters simply from their dancing – we learn who the confident and flamboyant ones are, who the more retiring ones are.
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We learn hints through eavesdropping in conversations taking place around the party. As with any large group of people thrust together for any prolonged period, there's a complex web of relationships of which we pick up only hints. There are burgeoning romances, and a lot of horny dancers who want romance. Improvised vignettes between groups of the characters reveals a little more about each of them – a lot of it revealing that a lot of the male dancers shouldn't be allowed anywhere near women, but on the whole,  we're just witnessing a party in which people are becoming increasingly more stoned and drunk. We have lesbians, gays who lust after straights, junkies, protective mothers forced out of a dance career through their decision to have a child, jealousy…

​
And then the movie hits the halfway mark, and we get the opening credits. With hindsight, it's a kind of warning – you've had your opening and closing credits, best leave now, if you know what's good for you…

Somebody has spiked the party Sangria with copious amounts of LSD, and it's starting to kick in…

I cannot of course, as a responsible adult, condone drug use – but Climax, much like the notorious Lysergic Acid Diethylamide itself, is something better experienced than talked about, so this will be relatively spoiler-light.

It kicks off with paranoia; fingers being pointed as to which irresponsible fucker drugged the party punch. With tempers flaring and moral judgements clouded by the heady stupor of powerful hallucinogens, violence ensues. Fights break out, and one dancer – Muslim and non-drinker, so clearly guilty – is thrown out and abandoned to the deluge of Winter – the first to be cast out of hell.

A lot of the ensuing tale takes place in the rooms set off the main dance floor, including the generator room, where a hysterical mother is forced to lock her screaming child up for his own safety.

As a brilliant plot device, Noé keeps bringing us back from the rooms on the periphery to the central dance floor. With every revisit, it's plunged deeper into chaos, the already tattered membrane between reality and insanity that little bit more frayed with each encounter. The lighting and soundtrack change accordingly, an effective visual and audio cue keeping track of quite how far down into Hell we've been dragged.

(Special mention here needs to go to the soundtrack, which is something that's occupied much of my Spotify habit since I first saw Climax. Burn Baby Burn, Disco Infernal – it's the playlist for the party from Hell. Aphex Twin's Windowlicker nestles neatly next to classic Giorgio Moroder, M/A/R/R/S' Pump Up the Volume shares a list with a sublime instrumental version of the Rolling Stone's Angie - and it's a work of absolute perfection).

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You begin to dread each revisit to the dance floor, the director almost holding it over you as a threat. As the character you're following drunkenly staggers back into that central chamber, a strobe lit Stygia, you fear for what is coming next.

Whereas this at-times jaded horror fan thought he'd seen it all, much like that bit at the end of Zahner’s Bone Tomahawk (2015) – the thought of which just caused at least one reader to wince and close their legs – I wasn't quite prepared for the end.

It's not particular gory or scary, but the closing scenes of Climax will stick with me for some time. Weird angles and lingering shots that went on for just-that-little-bit-too-long made me feel quite queasy and I was wanting the film to end.

But that's not a criticism; that's how you should feel.
​
It's an experience. A thrill-ride. An experimental tour-de-force by a director who has made a deliberate career out of controversy and shock  - Enter the Void (2019) and Irréversible (2002). You will take nothing away from it, no deeper meanings or hidden profundity. There are no lessons learned, nothing gleaned other than the fact you've just watched a group of people succumb to madness – and not all of them came out of it the same, or in some cases, alive.

​Style over substance, whatever. But sometimes you just crave a Pot Noodle rather than Filet Mignon, italicized for extra pretension. And, to stretch that fast food metaphor one micrometre too far, Climax certainly stuck in my gut.

It’s terrific. But I don't need to watch it again. I learned my lesson at Universal Studios. Here be Velociraptors.

Further Reading/Viewing
Criterion regularly do videos in which they invite actors and directors to pick a choice of films from the shelves in their warehouse; Noé's choices are particularly interesting and enlightening, and can be found at https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=U_2R7T4-78E
Even if you don't watch the film, you owe it to yourself to watch the opening dance sequence by clicking on https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Hwkacrln26o&t=57s. Honestly. You'll thank me. 

Strangely, apart from the jokes and the film's stylistic aping of films-gone-by, a large part of the events of the film are played relatively straight. For a lot of the runtime I wondered when we'd get to some good solid slashing in this slasher parody. I found myself thinking of the teenagers from The League of Gentlemen and their disdain for films that don't have enough killings. 'This needs more killings,' I thought – shortly before they began in earnest, with a gruesome decapitation and a glorious head-squishing being the best bloody centrepieces. After spending a little too long setting up its central mystery, the film finally hit its stride and becomes the great video nasty romp it promised.

And then... look, I'm not going to spoil it for you, but there's a massive twist and a revelation at the climax that sends the film spinning from fun spoof to absolutely silly nonsense. It's a huge tonal shift, that would have worked a lot better if there'd been more of this kind of silliness throughout. If they'd underplayed the mystery aspect and ramped up the nonsense, then this would have felt like a natural progression. As it is, it just baffles and confuses and leaves the film ending on a bit of a sour note.

That said, it's still a fun watch, and extremely well-accomplished in the way it harkens back to the days of VHS and cruder, less polished films. Younger viewers will likely be entirely put off, but it's not a film for them; it's for folks who pushed those big black cassettes into the video-player's slot and cursed the last person to rent the film because they hadn't rewound it.

It looks like Churchyard and Holiday are making The Decorator, a film that's mentioned often and even shown within this film, so here's hoping that they bring the visual flair and work on polishing some of the rougher edges so they go from strength to strength.

Jessica is the leader of a group of lost boys with a violent past who now seek peace and harmony. She is the only one to have ever brought them love and understanding. They only wish to create a world where they can live in peace together, and forever.
 
Initial Reaction
 
K.  Where to start…Jessica Forever exists in a Terrence Malick-like ethereal realm where violent orphans band together for survival against an army of killer drones but that makes it sound way more exciting than it actually is.  The style of the film is reminiscent of a music video, beautiful images combined with poetic dialogue that sadly amounts to nothing.  The narrative is so thin it’s invisible.
 
Basically, Jessica (Aomi Muyock) mothers a flock of these violent orphans, shepherding them into a surrogate family quite successfully.  Her efforts are noble, as is the underlying message of the film but little is done to express that dramatically.  I could relay a detailed plot synopsis but suffice it to say the group faces off against a squad of drones and escapes to an idyllic island to lay low and what starts off as a post apocalyptic sci-fi action film devolves into a pretentious tone poem.
 
Aomi Muyock has an undeniable screen presence, unfortunately she is given very little to do.    Advertised as the lead, she falls into the background as the film focuses more on two orphans in the group: Michael (Sebastian Urzendowsky) and Lucas (Augustin Raguenet) as their friendship is tested when Michael falls in love and they clash with the locals on the island.  It becomes a kind of cosmic coming of age drama with lines like: “bad things don’t last forever.  We have to stop them from lasting.”  As poetry or in the right dramatic context I would perhaps applaud this but here it falls painfully flat.  It comes across as something you would read in a generic inspirational meme or instagram post.
 
I’m not even going to get into some of the effects that pop up later on with Lucas and his dead little sister, who we come to find out he killed.  They come way out of left field.  I will say there is a fantastic moment of self-immolation toward the end that reflected my feeling as a viewer at that point in the film.  I’m not into bashing films, or sitting here and Monday morning quarterbacking the story/plot but sadly this is an instance where the audience was left out of the process.  I found no character or story here that I could connect to and that’s what I was hoping to do, in any context, whether it leans hard into sci-fi action or hard into surrogate family drama, makes no difference to me.  I’m all in to go on an emotional journey in any genre but that was not an option.  This was an exercise in style that left me cold.
 
C. Once it started, Jessica Forever feels like an arthouse version of a SyFy channel series or a post-Matrix dystopian thriller.. Don’t get me wrong, that description sounds like something right up my alley and there are moments (more ideas) within it that I enjoyed. It’s beautifully shot, the acting is strong and what it’s trying to say is a powerful statement on masculinity. However, it’s a common case that we’ve dealt with lately of something that focuses on its look and overt themes but forgets to tell a story or at least build the world.
 
The film claims to set us in what is meant to be a dystopian future but the only indication of that are the attack drones that kind of are hunting them. Yet anyone they interact with outside their group seems like regular people living in our version of this world. This must be mentioned because a lot of focus relies heavily on the fact that these “orphans” (basically violent marauders) are said to control the cities but it’s not seen apart from a lot of vacant houses.
 
At the beginning we are introduced to Kevin who is the cliche character that comes in to act as the audience, giving the filmmakers an easy way to introduce other characters, which they go through multiple times. A lot of the beginning is spent on Kevin in his transition from violent criminal to regaining his humanity.  Then he’s killed and it sets in motion a series of events that leads to this makeshift family’s end. The issue with Kevin’s death is it doesn’t feel like it warrants the impact on the group that would unfold had it been another character (ex. Julien). What his death actually creates is a period of time where the story is floating around to find new protagonists. While I don’t mind ensemble pieces at all or even meandering story structure, we’re left to attach to something or someone to propel the story forward. You get that for moments within the relationship between Michael and Lucas but anytime they head in a promising direction, it cuts to one of the other orphans in some one step forward, two steps back scenario.
 
Now this is coming from someone that was craving to like this movie, because there are so many nuggets that the potential for something amazing is in sight. And while I’d never be one to promote traditional story structure, there are many points throughout where it would have benefitted the watch. I will credit it with being memorable. There’s a strong artistic vision that helps it rise above a lot of movies plagued with the same issues and are forgotten an hour after the viewing.
 
J.  So I guess… orphans are bad and are to be killed by violent, gun-wielding drones in the future?  Or a dystopian, post-apocalyptic future.  I’m not really sure but everyone who isn’t an orphan seems fine and can frolic on the beach and go grocery shopping with no consequences.  In the opening we are introduced to a character named Kevin who the group takes in as one of their own.  Twenty minutes later, Kevin is killed by the drones and all but one of the group seem to notice.  I can sort of relate.  I was never really sure of the “rules” of the world that was created other than the aforementioned “death to orphans.”  The surrogate mother, Jessica is heralded as this angel-like figure but as the story went on, she was relegated further and further into the background and then Lucas’ sister appears to him as a ghost.  Almost every story element seemed to come out of left field and when it was all over, we were left with a completely ambiguous resolution that I just didn’t really understand.  The group had already successfully fled the drone onslaught once before… why not do it again?  After one of them, Julien, commits suicide I was half-expecting all of them to do the same but even that wouldn’t have held any weight because we were only privy to Michael and Lucas as characters anyway.  This is a hard one to even comment on because I’m not really sure how the film wants me to feel or what kind of message it was sending. 

It is well known that demons, possessions and unholy incidents happen at this time of the night and the folks of Redwood Creek Films came out with the idea of making a French anthology movie structured around the topic of 3:15AM. It features 6 Found Footage segments by Freedom Films, Divine, Evelyne Phan, Nicolas Delage, and David Tillault. Paris based director Fabien Delage (Dead Crossroads, Fury of the Demon, Cold Ground) is behind the project and is also directing one segment entitled "The Grove".
 
Horror strikes at 3:15 AM in ways never before imagined. Truth is stranger than fiction in this Euro horror anthology that opens a new dimension in sheer terror. This cutting edge horror anthology from France will curl your toes and rattle your soul.
 
Initial Reaction
 
C. Over the last year I’ve really been trying to broaden my horizons with found footage. For close to a decade it felt like every horror movie coming out was found footage because it was cheap, had less technical requirements and you didn’t need named actors. After a while, many people, especially in the States, thought of it more as a gimmick (like 3D) or people trying to recapture the success of The Blair Witch Project and Paranormal Activity. It became the story structure for filmmakers who wanted to make something “easy” so they could get funding for a project they actually wanted to do. Despite my reservations in the past I’ve found some outstanding examples when people really utilize the format. Don’t worry, there is reasoning to my introduction.
 
3:15 is presented as the first French found footage anthology and any big horror fan will find an obvious connection to the anthology V/H/S, of someone finding a stack of tapes and then we (the audience) see what’s on these tapes. It was a great opportunity for up-and-coming horror directors and even the segment, Safe Haven in V/H/S/2 has entered many lists over the year for best found footage films. You can see that intention behind 3:15 and while I appreciate these opportunities for the next generation of filmmakers, it played into the issues that I mentioned prior. For a couple of them they feel like scripts that weren’t originally intended to be found footage but instead were altered to fit this project. It’s fine changing your idea for a different storytelling structure but these segments don’t feel like they were willing to take the time needed. An example can be found with the segment, The Woman in the Attic (#2), which doesn’t have any reason why the protagonist would document visiting her family to that extent. Also across the board is very clunky, on-the-nose, and exposition-heavy dialogue that may be attributed to the translation but most likely comes from the writing stage.
 
I can go on about a lot from the hammy presentation of sex workers in one segment that harkens back to campy movies of the 80s (it wasn’t a creative choice), or such poor lighting that you don’t know any of what you’re watching. However, based on the low budget and up-and-comers you have to accept some things for what they are. I understand I shouldn’t put this kind of weight on a film but once the credits rolled I was left a little disappointed as French-produced horror usually provides, if anything, an interesting approach. 3:15am feels like a gimmick to make a quick buck. Too bad they’re a few years too late for it to work in their favor.
 
J. 3:15 is a found footage anthology consisting of 6 shorts and 1 wrap-around segment.  I’m not even sure wrap-around is correct for the one as it just runs from the beginning to the end and is played in between the 6 shorts.  Found footage is a tricky thing and this works pretty well but there are always going to be problems for me, especially dealing with why characters are filming shit at the worst, most inopportune times which happens almost regularly in this.  In one segment, a woman is escaping from being tortured or maimed or something really awful but she has the wherewithal to not only pick up the camera but also to keep filming as she makes her escape.  Goddamn, that shit just doesn’t work.  The wrap-around segment starts off very Blair Witch-y and then gets really Lords of Salem-y.  As for the other shorts, none of them really make much sense other than the last one that deals with some YouTubers wanting to catch a sighting of Bigfoot but don’t actually get to before being killed and eaten by a bear.  That one is pretty straight-forward.  There’s another weirdo one involving prostitutes who are into some sort of occult group that is also sort of witch-y and contains a pretty nasty dick removal.  I squirmed at that one.  There is a variety to the shorts that keep things interesting and considering they run about 15-20 minutes, they keep things entertaining for the most part.  Budget is extremely low and the filmmakers did the best they could with that in mind.  If you were a fan of something like VHS or the sequel and don’t mind some of the cliches and found footage issues you’ll probably like this one okay too although this isn’t quite the same calibre in terms of quality. 
 
K.  Normally I am a fan of anthology horror.  It's an exciting opportunity for filmmakers to play with short form stories, take risks and have fun.  And while I’m sure risks were taken and fun was had while making 3:15 am, the same can not be said for watching it.  None of the segments have much of a story and everything is filmed with a handheld camera in POV, so everything tends to drag on and on as we wonder whether things are leading anywhere or not.  The highlight is a castration scene in the middle segment “Ladies of Night” which ends up being my pick for the best segment in the film.  The others tend to meander, trying to recycle every found footage trope imaginable and not injecting anything new.  As such there is little in the way of scares and surprises here.  I really found myself waiting for the clock to run out on this one.  Ultimately, it’s another case of filmmakers with the passion and resourcefulness to complete a film but unfortunately they have nothing to say.

The masked killer is an essential part of the slasher genre – the mysterious figure with murder on his mind, pursuing his helpless victim with relentless determination through dark corridors to a final dead end. But who among is truly appreciates the effort it takes to do it properly?

Deadly Scare is a short mockumentary film written, directed by and starring Radi Nikolov that offers us an insight into the mind of killer Mike Weirner. Weirner considers himself to be a professional 'scarer' rather than a villain, and he talks us through the rigorous preparation involved in his job. He doesn't have victims, he has 'customers', and he cares about giving them a truly horrific experience with all the proper horror movie trappings.

The short starts well, with the amiable killer expressing how important it is to get the little details right, like how your mask should look or what surroundings your victi- sorry, customer, should wake up in. There's a glib What We Do In The Shadows vibe to these to-camera segments, and it's pretty clear that Nikolov loves the horror genre. Little touches like framed Jason Vorhees pictures really set the tone well, and there's a great sense of affectionate silliness. It doesn't quite raise a laugh, but it definitely conjures a big smile or two.

Unfortunately the tone doesn't stay consistent throughout and the film takes a bit of a dip once we see Weirner in action. From that moment the film is played straight, and it sadly isn't interesting enough to keep us engaged without the humour. It feels strange to go from comedy to serious so abruptly without returning to comedy for a punchline. If it did this, or kept the tone consistently funny throughout, then the film would feel more satisfying as a whole. 

Initial Reaction
 
C. To get it out of the way, Dogs Don’t Wear Pants will face criticism because it’s not a horror movie like the marketing suggests. Though it IS a horrifying, erotic, heartbreaking, and beautiful meditation on loneliness. I could end my reaction here but that’s not fun.
 
At a technical level the film is amazing with a great use of contrast between the two worlds that Juha (our protagonist) is balancing. Its environment feels lived-in and not just a series of sets used to make a movie. The artistic vision is impeccable, avoiding the trap of becoming pretentious or self-indulgent. However, the major credit has to go to its cinematic wonder of storytelling. At no point do any of the characters have to verbally convey what they’re thinking so we (the audience) can “get it,” and yet it’s all perfectly clear. As the synopsis says the story is about connection and finding someplace you’d never expect, so to pull it off without some on-the-nose dialogue is an incredible feat for the actors and filmmakers. While I found myself wanting to get irritated with Juha’s spiral into pushing the limits of safety, not just for himself but those around him, you also understand him.
 
While the BDSM content might dissuade some from watching, the film takes the path less traveled in erotic dramas and provides little-to-no nudity and gratuitous sexual acts. Even the relationship between dom and sub doesn’t turn into a tacked on love story but rather a deeper understanding of each other’s loneliness. While there is a tooth-pulling that’ll be the standout scene for most people, it’s presented in such a way where this violent act becomes a piece of beautiful poetry.
 
I really don’t know what more to say about this film that doesn’t feel overdone. For someone who doesn’t go out of their way to watch erotic drama (except Cronenberg’s Crash or a couple others), this is something I immediately checked the US blu-ray release to preorder. It’s fantastic, and my only two complaints are not seeing it sooner and knowing Finnish so I could catch all the subtleties that get lost in translation.
 
J. First off, this film has a stupid title but it makes sense when you see why it’s called something so stupid.  Second, this would be a terrific date movie.  Especially, a first date movie.  There’s a dominatrix and a bunch of S&M shit going on, although there is no sex scenes.  See Juha, our main character realizes that if he gets choked out he has an experience of some sort of bizarre enlightenment that allows him to see his dead wife in the lake where she drowned.  Once he has this experience, he wants it all the time.  He becomes addicted to being strangled by a dominatrix.  And like any addiction it fucks his life all up.  Yes, all of this happens in this film.  Juha has a teenage daughter and after a while I was beginning to wonder why the character was in the story at all.  You may disagree but I felt the character could’ve been cut and wouldn’t have changed much of anything.  It clocks in at 104 minutes too and I did feel that was too long, especially at the ultra slow pace this moved at.  I will say that there were two instances that made me profoundly uncomfortable.  One dealt with a fingernail and the other with teeth and I’ll leave it at that.  This was an interesting film and dealt with a subject not really seen in cinema in general.  I found it really amusing to think of this as a kind of Hellraiser prequel.  Where the dominatrix and the people inhabiting the S&M club were all eventually turned into Cenobites.  Having a cameo from Doug Bradley would’ve been amazing. 
 
K. I heard a little buzz about this Finnish film going in but really knew nothing about it other than the basic synopsis.  Within a few minutes it was clear this was the work of a skilled storyteller.  This is an intense character study in the vein of 70s cinema.  Unflinching, bold and painful.
 
After losing his wife years ago, Juha (Pekka Strang) is still frozen in grief, functioning like some kind of automaton.  He works as a surgeon and keeps his co-workers at arms length.  His teenage daughter Elli (Ilona Huhta) lives with him but he is almost never present with her, never listening, never really there.   By chance he meets Mona (Krista Kosonen), a dominatrix, and finds himself drawn towards his pain.  Through their violent relationship he is forced to confront his own grief.  I don’t want to spoil anymore of the story as it’s better to go into this one cold.
 
The cinematography and lighting are impeccable, lots of neon light and grit in expertly composed static shots.  The writing by Juhana Lumme & J.-P. Valkeapää is immaculate, purely cinematic, the viewer knows exactly what’s going on without any character having to spout their feelings or motivations through dialogue.  I wish I could write this well.  It’s also cringe-inducing in the best possible way as we follow Juha on his descent into self-destruction, making one bad decision after the next.  I found myself begging Juha to stop whatever foolish act he was engaged in and get his shit together.
 
While this was essentially a drama, I will mention one noteworthy scene that was as horrifying to watch as anything I’ve seen in a horror film and that is the tooth pulling scene.  And I will leave it at that because you will know exactly what I’m talking about after you’ve seen the film.  There’s also a sly nod to Goodfellas in a certain sequence set to “Then He Kissed Me” by The Crystals.  The ending was a pleasant surprise too.  I really thought it was going one way, but they outfoxed me in a satisfying way.
 
I have to admit J.-P. Valkeapää was not on my radar prior to this, nor were Pekka Strang and Krista Kosonen, but they sure as hell are now.  I was floored by this film and I’ll be first in line for whatever comes next from him.  I can’t recommend this more highly!
 

Response
 
C. I’d actually disagree with Josh about the daughter’s importance. I think she provided stakes for us to hope he gets control of himself and she represents his connection to the “normal” world. Without her, why would we care if he totally lost himself in what becomes his addiction? 
 
As to not repeat my praises, my biggest concern comes from its marketing. While I’m grateful Shudder is giving this film a much-deserved international release, despite the world it’s set in, it’s an erotic drama, NOT horror. So I’ll plead with anyone reading this to take it for what it is and you won’t be sorry.
 
J.  I’m going to get put in my place for my stance on both the daughter character and the title and that’s fine… I can take it.  This movie played out like an absurdist comedy to me where, even though Juha was in some kind of pain, be it physical or emotional and was largely cold and withdrawn, it was always a bit humorous in some way or another.  In an absurd fashion.  I haven’t really seen anything like this before, at least nothing from the past forty years or maybe Dressed To Kill but even that is only marginally comparable at best.  Worth a watch for sure especially if you’re on a first date! 
 
K.  I, for one, liked the title.  It’s not uncommon in literature to take a snatch of dialogue from the text and make it the title, and I think it fits quite well here.  I would also agree with Craig on his point about the daughter.  She really injects Juha’s downward spiral with stakes.  Their last scene together was heart-breaking.
 
I’m thrilled that Shudder is releasing films like this, alongside the best that the horror genre has to offer.  No, it’s not horror, but it’s dark and risky, and emotionally daring.  If you give yourself over to it, I don’t think you’ll be disappointed.
 
Bloodhound’s average score: 4 1/2 out of 5
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Feedback is a UK-Spanish co-production directed by Pedro C. Alonso and written by Alonso & Alberto Marini. In the tradition of Phone Booth, Buried and Locke, it tells a tightly-focused tale in strictly limited environment, in this case the confines of a radio show recording studio.

Eddie Marsan plays Jarvis Dolan, late night radio DJ and left-wing pundit, who reluctantly agrees to reunite with his former co-host Andrew Wilde (Paul Anderson) for one more night of his controversial show Grim Reality. Jarvis isn't afraid to tell it how it is, or at least how he sees it, launching into a politically-charged monologue about Brexit, fascism, Russian interference and The State of The World Today. It's all business as usual... until masked invaders take him and his producers hostage. Trapped and abused, he's forced to comply with their demands, say what they want him to say, and reveal a terrible secret they're certain he and Wilde are hiding. They're broadcasting on a delay so he can't even ask the listeners for help. He's truly trapped.

Right from the off, it's clear that this is Eddie Marsan's best performance to date. Usually relegated to bit part roles, he's no stranger to sleazy and morally dubious characters (most recently in The Gentlemen as nasty newspaper editor Big Dave) but Jarvis Dolan is certainly a piece of work. He's full of a sense of his own importance, and when he threatens his daughter's boyfriend it's clear that there's a dangerous edge to him that means he just might be able to give these attackers as good as he gets. Marsan has us rooting for him throughout, at times reluctantly after some nasty truths have been revealed. If there was ever any doubt that he can carry a film as the lead then Feedback should put paid to that.

Most of the other actors fare about as well, with Anderson's showboating rockstar DJ stealing his all-too-few scenes. When the shit hits the fan and things start getting dark, he delivers a chillingly quiet monologue about the events of an awards show afterparty that's just so counter to his previously energetic antics that it really drives home the horror of it all. In fact, everyone gets a good solid monologue, and while this ought to feel a bit unnatural it actually really helps sell the situation and solidify all the characters' motives. This is when Ivana Baquero shines as new producer Claire. While some aspects of her performance don't really convince, and suggest that she's been miscast, her teary heartfelt speech to Jarvis that really hits home. Also she was Ofelia in Pan's Labyrinth so I can forgive her for anything.

Me; Ooh. It’s refreshing to see an understated performance by Nicolas Cage this time.
*20 minutes later*
Me: Oh, there we are. Normality resumed.​

​Note:  It physically hurts to type ‘color’ and upsets me to see so many red lines in Microsoft Word, so I’ll be referring to the film as “Colour out of space” throughout. Pedants be damned.
 
The first time I came across director Richard Stanley, it was more through his notoriety than by watching one of his films. In 1990, he wrote and directed Hardware, a British science fiction horror about a reactivated war robot wreaking havoc in an apartment block. It was a bold debut, with a gritty punk/gothic aesthetic thanks to its cameos from Carl McCoy (from those talcum-powder dusted Goth cowboys Fields of the Nephilim), Iggy Pop and Lemmy.

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I learned of it due to the fact I was an avid read of British comic 2000AD at the time, and it’s publishers – Fleetway – were suing the film-makers. Turned out that Hardware bore more than a passing resemblance to a short story called SHOK! that featured in the 1981 Judge Dredd Annual. Much as how Harlan Ellison didn’t hesitate to sue James Cameron for unashamedly stealing the idea for Terminator from his Outer Limits script for Soldier, 2000AD didn’t dither in doing the same with Stanley.
 
Eventually, much like with Harlan, it got sorted. The hurt parties got their credits (and maybe a little bit of cash, too) and all was well. Hardware went on to achieve a cult following, as did his next movie, Dust Devil.
 
And then Stanley began work on The Island of Dr Moreau, the adaptation of the 1896 H.G. Wells novel. It was a somewhat troubled production, and Richard Stanley was fired from the job within a few days of principal photography. The entire production history is a catalogue of disasters; Bruce Willis was forced to drop out due to his divorcing Demi Moore, actor Rob Morrow quit, and Marlon Brando refused to learn his lines.
 
And, other than the odd music video, documentary, short film, and a segment (The Mother of Toads) in the horror anthology The Theatre Bizarre, Stanley went very quiet - until it was announced that he was working on adapting H.P. Lovecraft’s Colour out of Space, in which he takes the helm of both director and writer.
 
For those unfamiliar with the source material by HP Lovecraft, The Colour out of Space is a short story from 1927. In it, our unnamed narrator (a surveyor) endeavours to uncover the secrets behind a shunned area of Arkham known as “the blasted heath”. Piecing together the facts with the aid of a local, he discovers what happened when a meteorite crashed into a farmer’s lands in June of 1882, and what unfolded in the months to come.
 
The movie – produced by Elijah Wood’s SpectreVision - unsurprisingly, as with most successful Lovecraft adaptations - takes the setting to the modern day, where we meet Nathan Gardner (Cage), his wife Theresa (Joely Richardson) and their three children, Lavinia (Madeline Arthur), Benny (Brendan Mayer) and youngest Jack. Nathan has inherited his dead father’s farm and feels like he’s living in the old man’s shadow – he’s a daddy with daddy issues. He farms Alpacas because, despite being a family man in this, he’s still quirky, goddamnit.
 
The surveyor character still exists, after a fashion. He’s Ward Phillips, a hydrologist come to investigate the water in the valley, and it’s through him we meet Nathan and his family.

Nathan’s wife Theresa works with stocks and shares as long as the satellite dish grants her internet access, and is recovering from cancer. Lavinia is a goth with purple hair (who owns the same printing of the Necronomicon that I do) and Benny is a stoner. Jack, the youngest, is played by Julian Hillard – who, after appearing in Penny Dreadful and The Haunting of Hill House must surely be used to dealing with this shit by now.
 
We’ve no sooner met them when a meteor lands slap bang in the middle of their garden.
 
Nothing good ever comes from falling meteorites in movies. They either carry a virulent infection that’ll turn you into a walking pile of moss (Creepshow; The lonesome death of Jordy Verrill), a ravenous amorphous acidic jelly that can only be defaulted by a youthful Steve McQueen (The Blob) or a swarm of malevolent alien parasites (Slither).
Colour out of Space is no exception.

The meteor brings something with it - much like the Shimmer in Garland’s Annihilation, it changes everything around it – plants, creatures – even time and reality itself. Its effect appears as a colour, a hue that begins to bleed into everything. In the story, the titular colour of space is unknown to our spectrum, something truly alien and unseen by mortal eyes. Realising the obvious difficulties and complexities involved with inventing a brand new colour, Stanley has instead opted for a bright and distinctive Gaviscon™ pink.

Kudos to Stanley who – in his absence from horror – has lost none of his knack for visual flair. Some of the shots in Colour out of Space are outright beautiful. Purple and lurid pink skies shift and warp like a skin of oil on a body of water, and heat-haze clouds of lilac and amethyst light shimmer and dart through the trees.

Odd plants begin to fill the garden, and the farm starts producing a bounty of crops – but the harvest is bloated, misshapen and inedible. The effect begins to seep not just into the land, but the consciousness of the Gardners, the colours allure both distracting and confusing.

As hinted at the start of this review, it was pleasing to see a relatively reserved performance from Cage this time round – at least at first. However, as the effect of the Colour takes hold, his sanity begins to fray. His performance is by no means as manic or as intense as his role in Mandy, (to take a recent example) but Stanley allows him to get on with what Nicolas Cage does best.
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You don’t hire Nicolas Cage if you want ‘restrained’. 

Stanley does an excellent job at building up the impending sense of unease and dread before the film hurtles kicking and screaming into fully-fledged body horror – including one particular set of scenes involving Theresa and Jack which will remain embedded in my psyche for some time to come.

There are heavy elements of The Thing here, especially a later scene pertaining to the Alpaca herd. Ultimately though, the film is a little too keen to show you in too great a detail what was better left implied. When Stanley is restrained to just glimpses and the sounds of horror – some of which are truly disturbing - the film works a lot better than when you’re presented with some slightly-better-than-adequate puppet or CGI work. The film is far better when it’s hinting at horror, and far less effective when it’s being a monster movie.

Lovecraft is notoriously difficult to adapt to the cinema, with themes of existentialism and cosmic dread not translating particularly well to the screen. Considering much of his writing is about things that are indescribable and beyond mortal ken and comprehension, this often translates into little more than a CGI multi-tentacled beastie. There are exceptions to the rule; Reanimator works because it’s a lot less ambitious than other works by Lovecraft, and From Beyond works – for all its daftness - thanks to some excellent practical effects work. And Barbara Crampton in a basque.

Loose adaptations – or stories which could be said to be more inspired by Lovecraft’s themes than direct translations – seem to fare way better. The Thing beautifully captures the elements of paranoia and cosmic horror, as do Event Horizon, In The Mouth of Madness and The Endless. Even Prometheus, for all its many flaws, is essentially At the Mountains of Madness.
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That said though, Colour out of Space stands strong, as is one of the better direct Lovecraft adaptations. When Richard Stanley restrains himself, it’s very strong. It’s not without its flaws, but it’s a satisfying watch – and it’s always good to see a film daring to stand alone and not set itself up for an obvious franchise flood of sequels. 

Further reading/viewing:
It was Time Out magazine that broke the story about the connection between Stanley’s Hardware and 2000AD’s SHOK! and you can read how at https://londonhollywood.wordpress.com/2013/12/17/shia-labeoufs-plagiarism-scandal-and-how-history-repeats-itself/

There’s an excellent documentary about the troubled production of The Island of Dr. Moreau, and the Wikipedia article about it can be found at https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Lost_Soul:_The_Doomed_Journey_of_Richard_Stanley%27s_Island_of_Dr._Moreau

The story Colour out of Space can be found in the H.P. Lovecraft archive at http://www.hplovecraft.com/writings/texts/fiction/cs.aspx

About the Author

David Court is a short story author and novelist, whose works have appeared in over a dozen venues including Tales to Terrify, StarShipSofa, Visions from the Void, Sparks and Burdizzo Mix Tape Volume One.. Whilst primarily a horror writer, he also writes science fiction, poetry and satire. His last collection, Scenes of Mild Peril, was re-released in 2020 and his debut comic writing has just featured in Tpub’s The Theory (Twisted Sci-Fi). As well as writing, David works as a Software Developer and lives in Coventry with his wife, three cats and an ever-growing beard. David’s wife once asked him if he’d write about how great she was. David replied that he would, because he specialized in short fiction. Despite that, they are still married.
 
Website: www.davidjcourt.co.uk
Twitter: @DavidJCourt
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In order to give what we believe to be a more unbiased constructive criticism of the piece, the members of Bloodhound Pix are tackling each review as a panel of three. None of the members know the others’ thoughts on the content until after they submit their initial response.
 
Director: Joe Begos
Writer: Joe Begos
Starring: Dora Madison, Graham Skipper, Tru Collins, Jeremy Gardner

A brilliant painter facing the worst creative block of her life turns to anything she can to complete her masterpiece, spiraling into a hallucinatory hellscape of drugs, sex, and murder in the sleazy underbelly of Los Angeles.
 
Initial Reaction
 
C. How do you begin with Bliss? With such a personal piece of work, to make any comment feels as though you’re commenting on Joe Begos himself. This is an incredible step forward for Begos, whose previous work, though entertaining, fell into the realm of “fanboy movies” by some reviewers. As fun as Mind’s Eye was it was consistently called Scanners 2 and the movie itself relishes in that.  However, a lot of times when you make something that pays so much homage to another movie… you’d rather just watch Cronenberg’s Scanners. That all being said, there was some preconceived notions that I had going into my viewing of Bliss.  I’m happy to report that those notions were destroyed within the first minute. Bliss enters into a realm of pure artistic expression, yet avoids becoming a vanity project. It’s one of those rare instances where it beat the odds based on so many elements that have tanked even the most well-seasoned director’s movie.
 
Now if you’re intention is to watch a more straightforward vampire flick, this may not be what you had in mind, despite lots of blood. The use of filming in 16mm gives the movie a gritty, tangible quality that makes you feel “icky” after watching it, in the same way I felt watching Street Trash. This however, is more artistically handled than Street Trash, as much as I enjoy the color pallet used in that film. The irony is that Begos, who has referenced hating the term “elevated horror” (as one should), has made a horror movie destined to draw that type of pseudo-arthouse crowd… if they can handle the bloodshed of course.
 
There are a few pieces of criticism that don’t hurt a film that’s more focused on its visuals over narrative but they did come up. The major thing I noticed comes from the tonal shift, which is necessary. There’s a general rule of thumb in most narrative cinema that you should establish the character’s “normal” world and when they enter into uncharted territory, they must find a new “norm.” In Spiderman, Peter Parker is a nerdy teenager, he gets bitten by a radioactive spider, his life is forever changed and he can’t go back to being the teenager he once was. While I don’t believe it’s necessary, Begos uses this rule and the plot is based around the (“on-the-nose”) concept of someone physically becoming different/entering a new world… so it is open for criticism. The issue with Bliss is that based on what new world the protagonist enters, it requires a large shift. She’s not just realizing she’s becoming a vampire, but coming to the realization that vampires are real, and that drinking blood is like this insane drug trip. That’s a big difference from an L.A. artist that smokes pot and occasionally does blow/other recreational drugs. I acknowledge there is a shift between the original “norm” and the crazy end, there’s even a shift when she is first turned. However, when she’s taking Diablo (another drug) most of the same lighting and visual effects are used as when she’s consuming the blood. Because the change is so slight initially, we are not able to see the true impact/differentiate the high that the blood provides. As the story moves forward, this is redeemed but it feels like a missed opportunity for the audience. Some could say screw the audience but then why the hell are you making something that is displayed to the public?
 
My last issue deals with the protagonist as an unlikable character. First repeat after me, “you do not need a likable character.” But if you’re going to have an unlikable protagonist they better be compelling. About halfway there’s a point where our protagonist is at peak unlikability and she stops becoming compelling. We experience character arc territory that almost enters meandering with more examples of how this drug (the blood) has turned her into a “dope fiend.” Luckily, that issue resolves itself quickly thanks to a major shift where gore and her conscience enter the picture.
 
Movies that are purposefully bad, you can overlook certain things because “it’s meant to be bad.” In the same sense, Bliss’ use of experimentation and symbolism over traditional narrative cuts it some slack when the film may come up short on these cinematic rules that modern audiences know at a subconscious level.
 
J. WARNING: If you’re not a fan of sex, drugs and heavy metal, you will be turned off by Bliss. I happen to be a fan of all three so, Bliss is amazing.  I’ve loved Joe Begos his entire career and for me, he hits the highest note possible with this film.  For one, he takes the vampire concept and does something completely original with it, which is no small feat as far as I’m concerned.  The “V-word” never comes up in the film and that’s something I admire.  We know what the hell is going on but we also don’t need to be force fed.  From what I understand, the film is somewhat autobiographical, which makes it all the more impressive.  Metaphors and all that fancy, academic shit are at play in something that is a gory rampage of a good time.  Begos shoots the scenes in an experimental, avante garde way that perfectly matches the story he’s telling.  Visuals are lush, vibrant and fitting and I think that’s somewhat of a rarity nowadays.  You can tell that he is having a blast and doing so on his own terms instead of what might be considered “safe.”  In terms of some of the visuals, Begos uses the Aronofsky actor harness shots from Requiem For A Dream but he does so in a way that out Aronofsy’s Aronofsky.  One thing I don’t talk about enough in my reviews is editing.  And Josh Ethier edits the ever loving shit outta this thing.  It’s a high pitched fever dream aesthetic that once again, works wonders for the story Begos is telling.  Steve Moore’s score and the mix of metal artists on the soundtrack compliment everything perfectly.  Much of the dialogue in the movie isn’t really that important, which I think is kind of a blessing.  You only need the action to really be engaged in the story and what’s going on.  The character of Dezzy is working on a painting that she first has to finish to make money to live but then because her passion and the “Bliss” has taken over.  What she ends up creating is definitely a masterpiece and the moment when she does finish is such a moment of bliss for her that you realize the film has more than one meaning behind it.  If the autobiographical bit is true for Joe Begos, I salute that motherfucker because the film, Bliss, is without question his masterpiece and I love him all the more for letting me experience it. 
 
K.  This is my second time seeing Bliss and it’s even better on the second go around.  I had the pleasure of seeing a midnight screening of Bliss at Cinepocalypse and it was a doozy.  The perfect midnight movie.  The gritty aesthetic and handheld camerawork really suited the down and dirty vibe of the film.  Early on I was worried that the film might get repetitive when we don’t really know what’s happening to Dezzy and we’re playing the ‘is she crazy? Is she not?’ game, but even then it managed to find compelling ways to build tension and pile on the insanity.  Unlike most of the shit we watch, this is really one where the less you know going in the better, so for once I don’t want to spoil anything by saying too much.  All I’ll say is it’s a masterpiece of punk rock horror cinema, the likes of which we really don’t see much anymore.  There was a Q&A with Joe Begos after the screening I attended and one of the filmmakers he mentioned was Abel Ferrera, which is an apt comparison in terms of uncompromising, in-your-face-filmmaking.  If you’re in to that, you’ll be into Bliss.

Have you ever hated your job and the people around you so much that your painful stomach ulcer has turned into a demon and gone on a murderous rampage? I'm sure we've all been there, right?

Stomach is the story of meek and mild Alex, a young man who's pushed around and bullied by everyone around him. Boss, workmates, his own doctor – apart from his crush Anna everyone seems to hate him, and he quietly hates them right back. But inside him this hatred is manifesting as an ugly, brutish creature that's desperate to be born and to devour Alex's tormentors.

It's an interesting concept, like a serious take on the 2013 comedy-horror Bad Milo. But where that earlier film was polished and entertaining, Stomach sadly doesn't live up to the premise. Right from the get-go it's clear what kind of film we're in for. Ugly blue and red lighting? Check. Opens with gratuitous sex scene? Check. Sex scene morphs into violent bloody attack and it turns out to have all been a dream? Check. It's nice of the film to let us know where to set our expectations right at the beginning.

Alex is played by Fabio Carlani in his debut role. Carlani as Alex is mostly quite understated, bordering on boring for the majority of the film, which is a shame as he looks like a young Ozzy Osbourne and could have done with channeling some of that chaotic energy. Luckily he shines in his dual role as the creature. The creature's movements and physicality are quite unnerving, helped by the special effects that highlight its monstrousness. At times it's reminiscent of Channel Zero's Tooth Child. Hopefully Carlani will have the opportunity for more similarly physical roles as that's where his strength lies. Alex's emoting and lines are all pretty flat up until the climax, especially in the interminable narration.

The narration is a symptom of the biggest problem with the film: it's just not interesting enough. Instead of allowing us to discover the character through his actions, what little we know of Alex is given to us in narration and in dialogue from the people around him. He's too passive a character, spending most of the film clutching his stomach or getting picked on. By the time he decides to take action and reach out for help, it's too late as we don't care what happens to him. We certainly don't care what happens to the rogues gallery around him as apart from Anna they're all cartoonishly awful cardboard cutout characters. Too much of the film is just terrible people being terrible until they're murdered, a lazy trope that crops up in too many horror films. Add to this a couple of horrible gratuitous rape scenes and the end result is a fairly unpleasant film with a story that's too slim to be interesting.

It's not all bad, though. The gore effects are done well for the budget, and there's a couple of satisfyingly gruesome deaths that are carried off well. There's always the risk that something like a decapitation or an eye being gouged out can look quite silly without Hollywood production values, but Stomach manages to be effectively sick and gross without looking too cheap. There's some good creepy imagery, especially a scene where the creature crouches over a pile of guts like a grotesque gargoyle while Alex lies comatose beside it. And the twist, while inevitable in hindsight, was well-handled and ties up some logical problems that the story seemed to have. I didn't even see it coming, which is always a pleasant surprise.

The film is directed, written, shot, edited and produced by Alex Visani, who also handled cinematography and visual effects. It's always disheartening when a film-maker takes on so many roles on a single project because the film inevitably suffers as a result. These are all full-time roles that require maximum attention, and when one person tackles them all they stretch themselves so thin that they can't do every department justice. It also means you don't get multiple people's creative input, which is vital in film.

This is Visani's first feature length film, after several shorts and a segment in The Pyramid (2013), so this is still early days for his career. Here's hoping for better things in the future.

BY SAM KURD 
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