An insight in to this years selection of dystopian short films, showing at this years festival 26th September 2021.
Eject (Directed by David Yorke, 2019)
Eject takes us on a dystopian journey that mirrors societal fears of unknown technology and the threat of personal discovery. We follow Kate (Elena Saurel), as she discovers that the strange rash on her arm is actually a USB port. Curiosity soon gets the better of her as she finds herself in a strange myriad where one has the chance to alter their life. Eject tackles human greed unlike any other short film. Whilst the complex narrative is enough to evoke terror on its own, David Yorke insists on amping up the story through dazzling camera work that captures an unfamiliar sense of dread and sheer terror.
Standing Woman (Directed by Tony Hipwell, 2021)
Standing Woman follows Tom (Anton Thompson), a filmmaker enlisted under the government. Across time his work has certainly affected people, and not in a good way, leading him to embark on a journey where he carries the guilt from his work as well as his sorrow over his wife’s fate. Standing Woman is challenging in the sense that we are hit with a force of empathy, enforced even further by incredibly complex character depth, especially through Tom. Creator Tony Hipwell, manages to battle social/political satire whilst creating a daunting world that borders on the terrors of eco-horror, without becoming cliche or predictable. Standing Woman is a visually stunning film that knows exactly how to capture its audience.
Safe Inside (Directed by Peter Young, 2021)
Safe Inside is an isolating thriller that uses both horror and drama to create a claustrophobic world dosed with allegories and greater fears. We follow Ethan (Maitiú McGibbon), a young boy whose only companion is his Father (Damien Lumsden). In a very cryptic style Ethan’s Father only speaks of terror in the outside world, manipulating Ethan into believing that his indoor seclusion is for his benefit and safety. However, after sneaking out Ethan realised everything is not as it seems. Immediately Safe Inside rings similar to Room (2015) and Dogtooth (2009), but rather than emulate what we’ve already seen the film blasts an entirely unique storyline that aims to intimidate, unease, and sympathise with the viewer.
Viola (Directed by Paul W. Franklin, 2021)
Viola is a short film that knows exactly what it’s doing. Rather than tiptoeing around a terrifying story, director Paul W. Franklin goes straight for the jugular through delivery of a twisted film filled with shock, suspense, and scares. Viola follows a couple, Jo (Marian Elizabeth) and Tim (David Frias-Robles), as they embark on a romantic getaway to a rural house where they are greeted by a virtual assistant technology device known as Viola (voiced by Hilary Beaton). At first this Alexa-like machine is handy, yet as the night unravels it becomes apparent that a greater force may be occupying the house.
Fated (Directed by Jack Berry, 2021)
Beth’s (Gwyneth Rhianwen) life turns upside down when she discovers a familiar face deceased in an empty field. Fated from the first beat aims to alter the viewers sense of reality through compelling deception and a frightfully alarming narrative. With such a bold story it could be easy to rely on ‘shock-scares’, but Jack Berry manages to create a slow burner all within the three minute run time.
An insight in to this years selection of student short films, showing at this years festival 24th September 2021.
Chateau Sauvignon: terroir (Directed by David E. Munz-Marie)
The cleverly named Chateau Sauvignon: terroir follows Nicolas (Michael Lorz), who comes from a vintner family. He lives on the wine farm with his ailing mother and coarse father. In hopes of helping his poor mother Nicolas aims to take on an active role within the business (much to the dismay of his father), but his plan’s take a turn for the worse when two guests arrive at the farm. Although the film is a mere thirteen minutes long, what David E. Munz-Marie has managed to pack into the short time is phenomenal. In fact Chateau could easily be a feature length film, divulging into the dark history of the family. Expect to witness haunting imagery that bares the film’s soul, alongside a vividly rich story that leaves you wanting more and more.
White Witch (Directed by Harvey Loftus, 2021)
White Witch is at first reminiscent of great modern folk films, particularly that of Ben Wheatley’s filmography including Kill List (2011), but rather than overtly recreate what’s already out there, Harvey Loftus creates an original and complex piece exploring the witch trials. White Witch takes place in 1712, a time after the Islandmagee trials that plagued Northern Ireland. We see the aftermath of the trials as eight imprisoned witches are due to be released, but Malachy O’ Farrell (Adam Todd), the culprit who incarcerated these women, is getting weaker by the day, leading him to seek the help of ‘The White Witch’ (Caitlin Snowden) herself.
Moonlit Requiem (Directed by Arthur S. Edelman, 2020)
Moonlit Requiem unites igniting performances with intense cinematography to shape a unique short film that explores a story of familial labyrinths and fear of the unknown. We follow Jill (Angharad L. Ford), a young woman who goes on a trip to meet her husband’s family for the first time. Despite the usual discomfort that comes with meeting new people, Jill suspects that the tension has a much more sinister undertone. Moonlit Requiem plays out both visually and morally like an A24 film, and in a similar tone the film takes an unexpected route and delivers a distinctive entry into pagan horror.
The Phantom Limb (Directed by Daniel Fowlie)
The Phantom Limb is unlike any other short horror you are likely to come across. To even describe the basic plot would be a misjustice as the terror lies in the total surrealism that is prominent across the entire film. We are subjected to strange interactions between unknown characters, and are left in the dark throughout, creating a chilling atmosphere that aims to assault the senses. As an aura the film has a hint of Tetsuo: The Iron Man (1989) in its audible and visual tone, and for anyone who hasn’t seen that Japanese classic just know that it is not intended for the faint hearted. In line with this essence of absurdity is the film’s innate portrayal of the self. The Phantom Limb is questionable and disorderly, but in the best possible way.
The Unwanted Guest (Directed by Max Willocx, 2021)
The Unwanted Guest plays on genre tropes though imitating a well known tale of a woman on her own who hears strange noises, but rather than drift into a cliche, the film does the ultimate paradigm shift and turns into a terrifying ordeal. What sets The Unwanted Guest apart is the exceptionally tense build up that utilises every single second of screen time. The setting isn’t overtly unnerving, it’s well lit and is a large room, yet somehow Max Willocx creates a spine-tingling atmosphere that has you on the edge of your seat.
Night Terror (Directed by David Duke, 2021)
Clowns have long held a significant place within horror. They wear the crown for being the most ghastly and abhorrent monster, the worst of the worst. And director, David Duke knows exactly how to create a dreadfully creepy atmosphere that disturbs and startles the audience. This three minute short is an impressive independent horror right to the core, in fact it was all shot and edited on a phone, living proof that great horror is all about the passion.
An insight in to this years selection of slasher short films, showing at this years festival 24th September 2021.
Bloodshed (Directed by Paolo Mancini & Daniel Watchorn, 2020)
Bloodshed follows Getty (Bruno Verdoni), who is mourning the death of his wife after a vicious blood disease killed her. To cope Getty turns his ‘unusual hobby shed’ into a barbaric bloody altar in order to restore balance and search for redemption. The film opens with a sinister passage from the bible, explaining that “Without the shedding of blood, there is no forgiveness of Sin.” Hebrews 9:22. The scripture lines up this anticipation that whatever we are about to witness will be memorable, remarkably dark, and effective. Promising a film soaked in dread is Paolo Mancini and Daniel Watchorn, who together have created an unbelievably suspenseful film that manages to make twelve minutes feel like a feature length exploration into denial and the betrayal of the self
Overkill (Directed by Alex Montilla, 2019)
Overkill takes a story that is familiar at its roots, a group of college students take a trip to the lake, whilst unbeknownst to them a masked killer is watching their every move. But rather than rely on tropes to escalate the film, Alex Montilla shreds any predictability through creating a hilarious, laugh out loud story. Matching the eccentric flow is the exciting and captivating cinematography that revels in exposing how creepy a lone forest setting can be.
Fat Camp (Directed by Sacha Pavlovic, 2021)
Fat Camp is a dark comedy through and through which follows a typical slasher narrative, but with plenty of twists and turns along the way. The film follows a handful of men who are attending a so-called ‘masculinity retreat’, which obviously is a disguise for a ‘fat camp’. But Instead of getting in shape and being active, they are preoccupied by the return of an ex-camper who is hungry for their lives. The whole aspect of a camp and a mysterious killer is a clear nod at genre classics, including the unforgettable Friday the 13th (1980). Rather than recycle what we’ve already seen, creator Sacha Pavlovic gives us a fresh, fun, and brutal camp slasher that goes above and beyond the norm.
Hold Your Breath (Directed By Kameron Gates & Tommy Weber, 2017)
Hold Your Breath follows Molly (Emily Sweet), a young woman who seems to have a mysterious past, but her darker days are behind her. However everything is not as it seems after a midnight swim gives her the fright of her life. Hold Your Breath is feathered with incredibly rich cinematography that boasts stunning landscapes and personal close ups, creating this entangled world, very reminiscent of The Neon Demon (2016) and Starry Eyes (2014). Combine these inspirations with surrealist elements and an attention demanding setting then you have a stand out film that lingers with the audience.
Test Footage (Directed by Doiminic Evans, 2020)
Test Footage manages to do something that many short films are unable to achieve- creating a thrilling, tense ride all in the space of 5 minutes, using just one setting, and a small cast. We follow an actor as he runs through a script with a director for a potential role. The atmosphere is already slightly daunting due to the director’s menacing attitude, but the events become much more catasphrophic as a dark secret is unraveled. Test Footage is a claustrophobic film in the sense that the viewer is positioned closely to the horror, ensuring that the terror is entirely inescapable, making Test Footage a disturbing exercise into the nightmarish world of the human psyche.
Backstage (Directed by Lars Janssen, 2021)
Backstage is a visual feast that takes inspiration from the 70s rock and roll scene, followed by keen performances, lurid lighting, and a solid thrilling narrative. The film follows Margot (Charlotte Dawn Potter), as she searches for her best friend who went missing the same night as they met an acclaimed rock star. Across the entirety of the film we are not given a moment to breathe, with the ‘full throttle’ essence being truly exercised, but that’s not to say that Backstage doesn’t take its time in developing a shocking tale of deceit, outlandish characterisation, and unforgettable imagery.
Peacock Island from the outset is drowning in its own lavishness, with grand houses and expensive (probably self-driving) cars lining the streets of this exclusive land of the side of Quebec. Money is no issue here, meaning that the regulars’ hobbies mainly include visiting the private golf club. However, with Canada’s cold winter comes mountains of snow tarnishing the precious golf course, but lucky for them a chemical has been created which eludes nature’s constitution and melts the snow, restoring the green grounds. Unbeknownst to residents, the chemical turns the local’s into ravenous zombies.
Julien Knafo brings us this socially conscious zombie extraordinaire which uses the role of a zombie to weave through a complex vision of ostracization, the division of elitism, and the overarching sense of greed amongst society. Zombies have long been used as a tool to catalyse a weighty narrative, with White Zombie (1932) being an early example, and Train to Busan (2016) proving that modern filmmakers still use the creature as a device. Joining the allegiance alongside zombie classics is Brain Freeze, which is sure to be remembered not only for its commentary, but also its sophisticated exterior that screams to be admired.
Throughout the film we are treated to a courageous set design that mainly boasts modern lushness, but all of this ‘glam’ is only an acting backdrop which juxtaposes against the braveness and ruthlessness of the characters. We follow a typical angsty teenager, André (Iani Bédard) as he has to care for his baby sister whilst outrunning the undead. In his flight he meets Dan (Roy Dupius), a security guard who frequently works on the Island. Together they form an unlikely band of fighters who vow to do whatever is necessary to survive. Whilst André is an ‘Island native’, Dan is not, instead he simply travels over the wall for work and then retreats to his small studio apartment when the day’s work ends.
What’s typical amongst many apocalypse style films (zombie or not) is that a group of survivors will naturally come from different backgrounds, and despite their differences they all abandon their intrinsic personalities and become clones of one another. I was more than pleasantly surprised to see that Knafo did not succumb to this genre conformity and instead kept André slightly conceited even in draconian times, creating a more realistic portrayal and ensuring that the film remained interesting and refreshing.
Following the amalgamation of characters and the cultural annotation is a wicked brutality that keeps an edge on the dark humour, allowing the film to avoid coming across as just another take on Shaun of the Dead (2004). The jokes are kept dry and the atmosphere although comical at times remains threatening. One of the laughable highlights is when one of the golf club members believes that a herd of angry zombies are just a group of workers who want to unionize.
This notion of keeping the film exciting and not slapstick-based is the origin story of the virus, coupled with the imagery. Despite the infestation deriving in the golf club the zombie-chemical worms its way through the grounds and into the Island’s water system, poisoning nearly the entire population Cabin Fever style. Further negotiating this essence of the earth retaliating against its abusers (who’d rather profit than let nature run its cycle) is the sci-fi elements such as the cold tonal palettes, existential dread, and an uprising of evil creatures.
As I type and as you read, the copious topics that Knafo explores combined with the forgoing plot shifts may externally replicate a film that is too mashable, yet the changes are smoothly adapted and you become so engrossed in the fates of the characters that you end up welcoming the braveness of Knafo’s filmmaking. Brain Freeze is memorable and a warming surprise to a subgenre that needs a bit of revival every now and then.
You can check out Brain Freeze on Sunday 26th September 2021 at this years fest, tickets and details here.
An insight in to this years selection of creature short films, showing at this years festival 26th September 2021.
The Taxi Dead (Directed Simon Lahm, 2020)
The Taxi Dead follows Paul (David Zimmerschied), who must survive a horrible night alongside his Bavrian taxi driver Karl (Manuel Renken), as they join forces to battle against the great undead. Bringing us this gruesome zombie short is Simon Lahm who clearly knows a thing or two about creating a stellar creature feature. The Taxi Dead explores an area of zombie cinema that is crying out for more attention; the fact that the zombies are these gruelling beasts hungry for flesh is obviously terrifying, but when you combine this with the notion that mere hours before their ‘transformation’ they were normal human beings is entirely sinister. The film focuses on this idea that we are all monsters deep down. The Taxi Dead is unmissable and definitely a short film to be remembered.
Monsters Aren’t Real (Directed by Kristina Moschella, 2021)
We accompany Ebony (Michelle Randall) as she investigates a strange noise coming from inside her home, little do we know that much greater terror lies ahead. Monsters are children’s worst nightmare during childhood, with many having memories of checking under the bed and in the wardrobe to make sure that no ghouls crept in these crevices during playtime. Although we grow out of it, the idea of being alone with some macabre creature is still terrifying, and that’s what makes Kristina Moschella’s ‘Monsters Aren’t Real’ so spooky and reminiscent of good old fashioned horror.
Posted No Hunting (Directed by Alisa Stern, 2021)
Posted No Hunting is a bewildering, creepy, and disconcerting stop motion animated horror directed by Alisa Stern (also known as The Doctor Puppet creator). The film runs quickly with its runtime just hitting under the 3 minute mark, but do not be fooled as Posted No Hunting works alongside the quick pacing to deliver a purposefully questionable narrative consisting of a deer and a disturbing creature. Furthering Stern’s innovativeness is the ‘found footage’ technique in which the film is presented in, allowing for plenty of up close shots and fuzzy camera work that distorts and disturbs.
For Sale (Directed by Francesco Gabriele, 2020)
For Sale is a perfect example of a film that begins one way and ends up completely different, ensuring that we are kept in the dark and unsure of what to expect. The cryptic For Sale follows Carla (Octavia Gilmore), and Luca (Nicolas Vaporidis), a young couple who can’t keep their hands off one another, but their blissful relationship harbours a dark secret that bursts when they pick up a second hand tv from the mysterious Mr. Levi (Randall Paul). For Sale works through repositioning the horror from multiple angles throughout. The couple and the setting itself is suspicious, but then Mr. Levi also has his unusual quirks. Director Francesco Gabriele compliments these changing horror tones throughout the film by juxtaposing a picturesque rural setting of a quaint Italian town that is also drastically abandoned despite its appeal. Due to this we immediately sense a danger within the isolation, leaving us impatiently waiting to see how and why Carla and Luca might be in over their heads, despite the forewarnings and our intuition we are still shocked when the true terror is unveiled.
Doggers (Directed by Rory Hern, 2021)
Doggers is a film that aims to take you by surprise through masking its true intentions throughout. The film follows Sam (Daniel Davids) and Raimi (Kane Surry), who are seeking to spice up their love life, but uncover something much more threatening. Doggers takes what you know about horror and twists your expectations. We’ve seen a private meetup between two people in a dark and ominous carpark, and we’ve seen how wrong it can all go, but Rory Hern (director) ensures that the film is the complete opposite of predictable. Hern delivers a fresh take on a classic narrative, allowing for optimal scares that come completely out of the blue. Adding to the unexpectedness of the film is the surprising amount of brutality that Hern has managed to pack into a six minute film, certainly expect to be shocked and scared at this epic tale.
Clamps (Directed by Zachary T. Scott, 2016)
Clamps focuses on a town that is terrorized by killer clamps, to save the day a girl next door, a scientist, and the chief of police is enlisted, but can they stop the clamps before they fully take over. With a plot so ludicrous it would be easy for the film to get lost within its own madness, yet creator Zachary T. Scott tackles the chaos through juggling the humour and the horror. Clamps takes aim at reviving classic B-movie horror where just about anything can be the villain, and nearly anything goes. To achieve something that makes you chuckle as well as grosses you out all within six minutes is immense, making Clamps a standout short film.
Dead End (Directed by Jack Shillingford, 2020)
Dead End follows Tyler (Steven Blades), as he takes a nighttime drive through rural woodlands, but looming in the territory is something with sinister intentions. Jack Shillingford knows exactly how to amp up the fear factor through utilizing an isolated setting, making you feel just as alone and lost in the situation as Tyler. Implementing the film’s neo-folk vibes is the remarkable creature design that lives up to the poster’s beastly visuals. But above and beyond all of the effects and scares, possibly the most impressive aspect is how such a contained film with just one lead manages to convey a story that is totally worthy of an entire feature film.
Her Release (Directed by Valentine Miele, 2021)
Her Release is genuinely unlike anything you would expect. The eclectic story shows a woman after love who lets herself get completely lost within the moment. Whilst the absurdist quality is undeniably grained throughout the entire short, the real admirable factor is how director Valentine Miele presents the surreal elements. Generating a weird and wonderful narrative is obviously a talent, but to make the actual film work so well is truly impressive. Her Release is a beautifully monstrous film that is not to be missed.
Wich (Directed by Anthony R. Williams, 2021)
Wich is everything that a short creature film should be, dark, slightly humorous, and more importantly able to pack a quick punch within a minute’s notice. The film starts out rather mundane with a husband and wife (Aaron Christensen and Michelle Courvais) going about their morning routine by playing crosswords and making coffee, but their ordinary morning soon turns into a beastly horror story when they discover something alarming in their fridge. Creator Anthony R. Williams knows how to play out a comedy horror narrative, with the sporadic change of events coming in at perfect timing, alongside the impressive effects that ensures that Wich remains just the perfect amount of creepy.
An insight in to this years selection of thriller short films, showing at this years festival 24th September 2021.
Upstairs (Phillip Trow, 2020)
Upstairs is reminiscent of those awkward family dinners where the mere idea of meeting your spouse’s family sends shivers down your spine, but in the world of Upstairs the unpleasantness is turned up by quite a few notches as we follow the Saint family, comprised of matriarch Shirley (Heather Coombs), and her children Caroline (Yolanda Kettle), Jennifer (Sorcha Groundsell), and James (Luke Newberry). However, their family woes are far from mundane as the arrival of Caroline’s partner Tim (Iain De Caestecker),unravels a damning secret, bearing the true insanity that lies within the Saint’s walls. Upstairs forgoes conventionality as director Phillip Trow opts to present the sheer horror through creating a tense atmospheric tone, highlighted through a daunting environment and well written characters.
Left Alone in the Snow (Rickey Bird Jr., 2021)
We follow screenplay writer Lilly (Chelsea Newman), as she retreats to a secluded cabin in the snow, but as strange events begin to occur she must find a way to make it out alive. Being stranded all alone in a snowstorm is eerie enough, but imagine not being able to shake the feeling that your creepy neighbour is taking advantage of your solidarity. Left Alone in the Snow knows exactly how to play with your fears as filmmaker Rickey Bird Jr. pays homage to classic home invasion/revenge films such as I Spit on Your Grave (Meir Zarchi, 1978) and Black Christmas (Bob Clark, 1974) to create a tense and thrilling winter’s tale. The micro-budget short does an excellent job at creating a gripping buildup that packs a rip roaring punch by the end.
Parting Frenzy (Ry Williams, 2021)
Ryan Freda takes us on a twisted journey of the consequences of betrayal as we watch the breakdown of the relationship between Cate (Nicki Davy) and Lee (Kaya Moore). In true horror form we do not know who to side with or even what to believe as Freda superbly deceives us throughout. Parting Frenzy manages to tackle a traditional narrative in a new and exciting light through using its secluded setting to amplify the threat level, all the whilst generating a character study that is worthy of a feature length film.
Koreatown Ghost Story (Minsun Park & Teddy Tenenbaum, 2021)
Koreatown Ghost Story follows Mrs. Moon (played by the iconic Margaret Cho), an eccentric woman who finds herself in the company of Hannah (Lyrica Okano). Their somewhat normal-ish encounter soon takes a turn for the worse as Mrs. Moon hatches a sinister plan to bring her son Edward (Brandon Halvorsen) and Hannah together. The underlying supernatural elements to the film is just one way in which a terrifying atmosphere is conjured as the true terror lies within the twisted story that plays out with complete cinematic eloquence. The true advantage of the film lies within its secrecy, but just know that this epic short is not here to play, instead Koreatown Ghost Story positions itself amongst the absolute best.
Leo X. Robertson has a keen eye for the obscure, with his focus dwelling on the oddities of society, particularly seen in his bookUnfortunates (2021) which chronicles eight short and sadistic stories. Robertson’s second feature film Burnt Portraits captures his most exciting project to date as we are thrown into a dark and twisted world permeated with disguises, suspicions, and horrid truths.
Burnt Portraits follows a popular singer (Sam Crichton), whose naivety lands him in deep trouble as he finds himself in the company of a slightly unusual artist in his dim studio (also played by Robertson). Once ‘Singer’ awakens he quickly hits it off with the artist, forming an unexpected bond despite their differences. However, it’s not long until Singer’s trustiness sneaks up on him as sinister chaos begins to erupt…
Throughout the film you are left unchaperoned as the ‘who, what, when, and where’ remains principally anonymous, and although it may be second nature to surrender to conventionality Robertson takes the long way round and makes us work for the answers. As aforementioned, Singer ends up forming a brief kinship with the Artist.
As their mutual knowledge of one another grows we too get comfortable in their presence, meaning that when the film does a 180 it hits us as quite a shock. Although Robertson takes time in unveiling the film’s catalyst the slowburn route is certainly worthwhile. What facilitates Burnt Portraitslingering disentanglement is the stylistic rejection of coloured film in favour of using black and white. Through foregoing the modern tradition of colour imagery the environment becomes stark and casted in dark shadows, ensuring that the film leaves a visual mark upon its viewer.
Backing Burnt Portraitsmelancholic undertone is the isolating narrative that jolts a sense of unease throughout the 99 minute run time. The story takes place in one setting (albeit a large setting), an art studio. But despite the presence of the pair it still feels entirely abandoned and neglected. When we are introduced to Singer the room is somewhat lonely and dark, but the Artist soon turns on the lights. Rather than relaxing in the brightness I found the illumination unwelcoming, as if whatever is ‘out there’ can see even easier, an idle trap. But that’s the beauty of Burnt Portraits, besides the detailed character depth and the progression of the intensity, one of the most harrowing moments relies upon the unknowingness of the situation.
Burnt Portraits is even more noble when you take into account its small crew and budget, even the set itself was offered up by Crichton’s mother who thought that the basement to her art studio set the perfect scene for a horror film (she was definitely right!). The film is a clear labour of love and its independent background is a great entry into indie-horror.
Whilst Roberston is just one of the many exciting up-and-coming creators in the field, his unique portrayal of harrowing horror is hauntingly impressive, and I for one hope to see more of his horrific visions make it onto the screen.
You can check out the world premiere of Burnt Portraits on Friday 24th September 2021 at this years fest, tickets and details here.
Transcending into a cathartic chaos is Prano Bailey-Bond’sCensor, a tragically stunning yet deceitful enigma that allures as much as it challenges and repels. Birthing Censor’s righteous battle of truth and fiction is a closely confined trip of what grief can manifest and how our own senses and thoughts can be a source of both protection and betrayal.
Censor is positioned at a dreadfully treacherous era for cinema during the ‘video nasty’ epidemic which saw a nationwide moral panic erupt when home video was introduced. Headlines boasting about moral corruption and the translation of violence on screen would commonly feature on every news outlet, brainwashing the public into a state of malleability, forcing the government to create the Video Recordings Act (1984).
With the film bans, fines, and prosecutions also came an entitlement that meant that the BBFC had a ‘duty of care’, allowing film censors near ultimate control.
Censor uses this history as a walkway for the true narrative to run. We witness Enid (Niamh Algar), a tightly wound film classifier slowly slip into a state of hysterical paranoia after becoming entranced by a film directed by the absent Frederick North (Adrian Schiller) titled ‘Don’t Go in the Church’. Enid immediately links the disturbing film to the mysterious disappearance of her sister, sending her into an entwined matrix of instability, obsession, and turmoil.
Enid’s demeanour is strong as she continuously likens her profession to the job of a “protector”, guarding the innocent from the obscene. Her unyielding attitude sits authortainly with her, despite the fact that there is a hinted notion that her co-workers idly embroider her as an over disciplined conformist as they happily ask her to type up their notes and have no trouble in a bit of break-room gossip regarding her conduct. Forming from this is an awareness of her isolation.
It is made clear that since her sister’s disappearance she has been a lone rider whose evening routine is a solo walk home followed by a crossword. Enid may specialise in watching absurd material, but her personal life is blank.
For me this is what was one of the most brewing & unnerving aspects of Censor. The preconception of Enid being the ‘odd-one-out’ at work accompanied by her lonely habitat made her descent into this rabbit hole entirely chilling. It’s this drastic shift from a dull existence to a frenzied nightmare that took me by surprise as there is no comfort, even before the terror starts. During her solarity I kept waiting for something to jump out from behind the couch or for a ghostly shadow to walk past startling the silence, but Bailey-Bond refuses to give us that relief. Instead she forces you to feel alone like Enid, and sit and steam in the unknown.
Joining this impending dread found in loneliness is the implication of harm from your surroundings. The video nasty panic surged like wildfire amongst the British public, in essence the ludicrousness overshadowed the genuinity of the threat. What resulted from this was a generalised phobia over videos. Bailey-Bond imitates this supposed ‘hazard’ in a joviant yet serious manner through associating the mechanics of a video itself with horror. Multiple shots are shown of a blank tv screen illuminated by that familiar fuzz, accompanying these visuals is a starkly dark sound of muted terror, alongside a fearful expression coming from Enid. Continuing this mimicry is the various tones of blue and red and static overlays which are commonly featured throughout the film’s most harrowing scenes.
Censor bravely stares back at you, valiantly questioning the audience’s morals. We side with Enid, but should we? And like a blistering volcano waiting to burst, Censor tiptoes around our expectations to create a threat level where we are more frightened about whatis not shown than what is.
You can check out Censor on Friday 24th September 2021 at this years fest, tickets and details here.
Also check our article on ‘Video Nasties‘ from earlier in the year here.
The August Club is everything you could want in a comedy horror all wrapped up with innovative character designs, excellent theming, and a creative design. Taking us on this Goosebumps-esque journey is the timid Noah (James Grainger), and the boisterous Jack (Lucas Byrne) who have no other choice but to form an unlikely friendship after a detention at the beginning of summer ends up with them being bullied into visiting a creepy old house that is rumoured to be haunted by a ghastly vampire known as Count Varias (David Lavery).
The August Club is the definition of a passion project as creator Daniel Richardson has built this dark imaginative journey from the ground up. The fantastical elements ring to the nostalgic tones of childhood adventures. Within minutes you’ll be transported back in time to the easier days where telling a creepy story at a sleepover would leave shivers down your spine for days; and this is exactly what Richardson brings back to life, a sense of simplicity within horror. You don’t need buckets of blood and guts to be spooked, instead a good old ‘bump in the night’ story is all that is needed.
Allowing this exciting tale to come to life is the setting, character backstory, mood, and tone. The film is born and bred in the North East of England, with the Yorkshire setting casting a gloomy grey skyline over Count Varias’s grim manor, generating a daunting thematic impression. Continuing this fabrication of horror-filled doom is the ominous vampire lair that is caked in horror iconography, with plenty of cobwebs, chains, skulls, and an intimidatingly large coffin hosting the Count himself.
This ‘haunted setting is a drastic world apart from Jack and Noah’s ordinary surroundings, which is rife with a realist undertone. Richardson isn’t afraid to dive into Jack and Noah’s background. Jack bears a brave personality where nothing scares him, but the thought of him returning home to his reckless family terrifies him. Whereas Noah is over-sheltered to the point that he has no friends and spends his days alone.
The August Club is a must watch that will have you laughing one minute and then amazed by the horror the next!
You can check out The August Club on Saturday 25th September 2021 at this years fest, tickets and details here.
Entwining a rich story of loss, both through the self and otherwise is Wyvern Hill, a haunting analogy of what it means to be astray in a world of uncertainty. Manifesting the film’s harrowing expressions is director Jonathan Zaurin, and writer Keith Temple. Together Temple and Zaurin leave a lingering mark on the traditional haunted house narrative. But, do not be fooled, although Wyvern Hill may invest in the exterior of an archetypal ghost story, what lies beneath the surface is a dispiriting feast of bodily betrayal and a disjointed sense of reality.
We follow Beth (Pat Garett), an older woman who is exhibiting the early signs of Alzheimer’s. Her daughter Jess (Ellie Jeffreys), and son in law Connor (Pete Bird) have a difficult time trying to accept Beth’s fate as she is all one her own. To combat the ‘inevitable’ they purchase an old country house on Wyvern Hill so that they can ensure comfort in her darkest days. However, instead of settling comfortably Beth begins to experience strange visions of an unknown past.
Wyvern Hill sways in and out of what we can perceive as reality. Cinema (particularly horror) that is brave enough to grip onto mental decay as its catalyst generally uses a sense of familiarity and reality as a contrast; when one suffers with Alzhermers they may experience confusion over time and place as well as a loss of their own past and present memories. On screen this diffusion of the self typically portrays the false memories and confusion as clear cut, there is no doubt that what we see is simply a figment of the individual imagination, however Zaurin refuses to create an easy path for us. Beth’s ‘false’ perceptions are not easily distinguishable, instead we are lost whilst watching. There is nothing that we can trust, creating a vicious sense of agitation and anxiety.
Furthering this terrifying perplexity is the exploration of the films’ joining’ subplot. Wyvern Hill somehow manages to create an idyllic marriage of a haunting tale of isolating identity and a gory slasher with a tastefully bloody ambience. The film is not emotionally chronological as it relishes in juxtaposing a sanity-exploring narrative with a dishevelled festival of carnage. This revelation is best left as a surprise, so I’ll spare the plot spoilers, but be prepared for a ferocious parade of the abyss, particularly shown in the opening scene.
Within minutes we are shown a masked assailant prodding at a lifeless body and lifting it up like a puppet on a string, whilst slimy maggots squirm around leftover body parts. The imagery is not only a visceral shock, but also a tortuous insight warning us that this is no ordinary film. Before you ponder over the amalgamation of themes, know that this slasher-esque essence fits in with the rural drama elements like a perfect puzzle.
Zaurin’s purposeful trickery is one of the film’s most creditable elements that I have yet to see in any other film, there is no spoon-feeding, we are on our own. Wyvern Hill is a feast for the senses, cementing its statue as a film to be remembered.
You can check out the world premiere of Wyvern Hill on Friday 24th September 2021 at this years fest, tickets and details here.
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