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Reviews

Review- Spiral: From the Book of Saw

“He could be anywhere, he could be anyone. We’re gonna tear this city apart”

Just like that Saw is revived. The Saw franchise has sorely embedded itself within modern horror instantaneously when James Wan and Leigh Whannell released the first segment in 2004. The series had reached a lull and drifted from its pioneering ways, with later instalments simply existing to test audiences’ gag reflexes, but could Darren Lynn Bousman’s Spiral sway the franchise back to its esteemed position? 

Bousman is no stranger to the world of Saw, with three previous installments under his belt. Joining him is Chris Rock who helms writing credits, as well as taking the lead as Detective Zeke Banks who reluctantly partners with rookie officer William Schenk (Max Winghella), as they race against the clock to solve a string of murders against the police force by a Jigsaw copycat.

Greeting Banks with more trouble is his tumultuous reputation within the force as his reputation has been plagued since he uncovered a dirty cop. Only tying the situation tighter is his estranged relationship with his police veteran father, Marcus Banks (Samuel L. Jackson). 

Persisting with the judicial rendition is a tempered story that loosely tackles a serious topic, police immorality. Such topics deserve a full backbone to thrive, but I believe that making a statement was not the goal, nevertheless the political basis could have profited off of a more rounded payoff if the bouncing clichés were not as blatant. Banks is divorced, rogue, and ridiculed, with a zealous newbie as a partner, which reads as a typical crime horror layout.

Nothing new here. Although we do not necessarily need a buzzing sub-plot of corruption for Spiral to have scored, possibly focusing less on factuating a sense of moral motive (similar to how Jigsaw targeted the ungrateful) and instead work on turning the attention towards the thrill would have helped avoidance of the negative criticism regarding a cluttered narrative. 

On a positive note, I fully appreciate that Bousman aims to reimagine the tale rather than just tell the same story in an alternative light. Let’s view this in lieu of franchise semantics, Spiral is not Saw IX, the actual subtitle is ‘From the Book of Saw’. Instead, Spiral simply takes a note out of Saw’s book, an ode, a dedication. Viewing Spiral as a spin-off resolves many issues that fans have raised. Take for example the bloody and brutal traps that Saw is known for, in Spiral they do not make a keen appearance.

No longer do we witness victims suffer from what seems like an endless prolonged death. That’s not to say that the new copycat is not as harsh, as although the traps are not suffocatingly graphic, they are all nearly impossible. Each trap is slightly tuned down when compared to the film’s previous reputation, yet the lack of exposed explicatives is not to be underestimated as I still winced at the sight of tongues being ripped off, melting faces, skinning, and a body being obliterated by a train. 

Conjoining the tension is an air of unease that Bousman brings to the table. With all types of cinema there is a certain sense of familiarity, a comfortable position where we know that despite hardships all will be resolved and the lead will get a happy ending. Spiral fortunately does not drift into the certain. Instead we are threatened with the fact that no one is off limits, seriously NO ONE. And its this infiltration of precariousness disavows us to tire entirely, no matter the viewer’s opinion. 

Chris Rock and Samuel L. Jackson’s performances are one of the most applauding features of Spiral. Their witty and dishevelled relationship is reminiscent of the buddy-cop genre, with a few back and forths forcing us to warm to their characters, despite obvious flaws. Not only did I actually care about their fates, I would have happily watched an entire cop drama with them two pairing as leads.

The on-screen partnering, combined with Spiral’s general thematics reminded me of 1990s crime thrillers, with Se7en (1995) immediately coming to mind. The mimicry to exhilarating police thrillers can be seen as a far bargain when we throw in the additional elements such as the above mentioned traps and the history of the Jigsaw killer that is frequently mentioned. However, Spiral is not entirely a plea to wake up an unkempt franchise, alternatively the film offers a bridge into horror for a new generation

Spiral has an instinctive drive for worming its way back to what made the early film’s so great, but with a contrasting guise. No longer will Saw continue as a hyper stylized, grungy gorefest with twists and turns pounding down as soon as the disequilibrium hits. Instead, the fresh take on a demented serial killer (arguable term) will breach out into a world of theatrical dramatics, heavily immersed with inner trauma and current topics. 

This weeks article comes via Grace from Film Overload, you can check out more of her work here.

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Reviews

Review- Relic

Relic both devastates and captivates us all whilst establishing a rich environment made to heighten fear and immerse our intrigue. The 2020 Australian horror left its blemish across the virtual festival scene last year, with reviews storming in boasting its brilliance. Quite impressively this is Natalie Ericka James’ directorial debut, despite this, the film received almost immediate interest upon its pitching, with Jake Gyllenhaal serving as a producer. Relic’s buzz was imminent due to its pressing and at times daunting portrayal of decay, both physical and mental, paired with a haunting atmosphere that goes straight for the jugular. 

When Kay (Emily Mortimer) receives a call from police alerting her of her mother Edna’s (Robyn Nevin) disappearance, she packs her bags along with her daughter Sam (Bella Heathcote) to search their family home. They soon find the house withering away alongside multiple reminder notes scattered, hinting that Edna’s dementia has gotten worse. However, when she mysteriously returns as if nothing happened they soon get the feeling that something much more sinister is at play. 

Unfortunately, memory loss seen within elder people, particularly family, is a dreadful circumstance that many people find themselves dealing with. James understands that our reaction to horror is deeply personal, our own experiences and fears develop our reaction. The echoes of loss are as above mentioned dispersed across not just the characters but also the self.

We are presented with a haunted house story but are met with much more than doors closing on their own, strange whispers and ghostly figures. There is a rather surreal tonal element that James masters. In recent years horror cinema has matured. Although plenty of entertaining slashers and gory films remain popular, a good handful of films drift towards an art-house structure, using eerie environments and character-driven stories, with thanks being owed to Robert Eggers and Ari Aster with the likes of The Witch and Hereditary favouring dramatics over bloodshed. 

An element that I personally admired throughout Relic revolves around the looming sense of dread that both Mortimer and Heathcote portrayed so robustly. They perform with a cathartic drive that aims to accurately embody what our reactions would be in such a situation. I mentioned that Relic is an immersive experience, mainly due to the reality illustrated. We wouldn’t be able to feel compassion for their situation without genuity. We follow three generations, that’s multiple generations of baggage and experience, they all naturally have alternative responses to the situations, yet the roots remain the same. Relic has a reeling heart and soul, reminiscent of the gothic tales from Edgar Allen Poe and Heathcoat, Mortimer and Nevin soulfully handle an impassioned story with effective ease. 

Furthering the terror is the complicated setting. Similar to Kubrick’s The Shining, I noticed that the internals of the house are convoluted and seemingly never-ending. At least twelve different rooms are shown, and although the exterior boasts a lengthy space (thanks to cinematographer Charlie Sarroff’s work) the camera still endlessly weaves through this maze of a house, only exaggerating the inescapability of this haunted house.

It is disorientating and threatening to be alone in a big empty house in an already isolated environment, facilitating this even more is the immediacy of terror presented to us regarding the “coldness of the house”. Sam notes the copious amount of locks that Edna has installed as she remarks that someone has been breaking in and moving furniture, yet there is not a single trace left. The camera lingers on the still idleness across the empty rooms and hallways. However, the frames remain thriving with a presence of lingering life, visible or not; this awareness of spiritual manifestation blossoms through transcending visuals. 


Relic relishes in a simplistic disguise. There is no bountiful torture or dark humour (granted it is still entertaining). I applaud the mossy baroqueness that drifts throughout this slowburner. On the point of slowburner, although I sing its praises Relic certainly will not please every audience member, or at least at first.

Do not expect rapid twists and turns or countless jump scares; it’s a slow burner true to the bone. Relic aims to make a witness out of you, and to invite one to simply watch as the unease unravels. And for this very reason, I’m marking Relic as a must-see for anyone willing to bear a small ounce of patience in return for a big payoff.

This weeks article comes via Grace from Film Overload, you can check out more of her work here.

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Reviews

Review- Fried Barry

Warning: a few spoilers ahead…

Bashful, absurd, and full on chaotic is the aptest way to describe Ryan Krueger’s rising hit, Fried Barry. Describing trippy horror film’s as a sensory overload is nothing new, however I cannot stress enough that Krueger’s vision of an alien possession gone awry is anything but ordinary; in fact, good luck keeping a steady focus with forceful cinematics hitting you from every angle.

Fried Barry is a South African film streaming on Shudder and is based on Kreuger’s three-minute short from 2017, and is heavily improvised, with a traditional script being abandoned in favour of on the spot dialogue. 

We follow Barry (Gary Green), a grubby drug addict who after a string of highs is abducted by aliens. The extraterrestrial forces at play have free reign over Barry as they go on a wild night out in Cape Town. Plenty of sex, drugs, violence and mayhem takes centre stage in one of 2020’s most surprising films.

The neon drenched scenes take over the audience’s perception of conformity, whilst Cape Town transforms from a popular known destination to some sort of new dimension imitating a strange acid laden environment.

This foreign territory comes across as more alien than wherever these jovian creatures originated from. Barry is significantly outstanding in his role as a ridiculous caricature-esque being who at the stem is careless (even in serious circumstances), but I found his character to be so at home and warmed in this kaleidoscopic setting. Green is actually not a trained actor by profession, but instead a stuntman, making his performance extremely impressive in consideration. 

All of this praise over visuals is certainly not a case of ‘style over substance’. Personally speaking, although motive serves purpose in most films, it is not always necessary. Barry’s possession is a deep exploration into humankind, with all things weird and wacky embraced. It’s through his lack of control that we end up warming to his disillusion, he is not aware of his cruel behaviours and you understand the glimpses of his past self.

Through this a series of pinnacles become risen via creative filmmaking. We are witness to constant narrative contortions where we genuinely have no clue what’s going to happen next. This sporadic nature thrives throughout, with one rather memorable scene exhibiting Barry impregnating a prostitute, to which she immediately gives birth in a grotesquely excruciating scene. 

Kreuger’s direction is invasive, resulting in a strikingly seedy tale of innocent pandemonium. What Fried Barry accomplishes so well is the inherent nature of bringing Grand Guignol adventures back to the mainstream. The film fits right in with 1980s schlock, with a clear ode to oddball characters and rather testing sights.

We thrive with the obscene, which quite simply drips throughout the entire film. Alongside this is the lack of situational care, we see plenty of aggressive pimps, sign-wearing preachers, deluded asylum patients, nagging housewives and then we have Barry himself, a stereotypical substance abuser – There really is something to offend everyone.

I could easily compare Fried Barry to similarly eccentric films such as The Greasy Strangler (2016) and Bad Boy Bubby (1993), but in reality Kreuger has created an immensely unique and convoluted film that really is worth a watch.

This weeks article comes via Grace from Film Overload, you can check out more of her work here.

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News Reviews

Retrospective – Silent Hill (2006)


A retrospective deep dive into Silent Hill on its 15th anniversary

Video games, particularly of the horror/survival genre have a rooted integrity that has a massive potential to complement cinematic adaptations. But, typically when game adaptations appear on the ‘big screen’ an overall lacklustre effect looms over any positives, with House of the Dead (2003) being a prime example. Silent Hill manages to swerve any major perpetration and has successfully conjured an almost cult status 15 years later.

A keen passion for the game, truth to pivotal details, and a brave narrative are what allowed Silent Hill to keep its beloved status. With this being said, in no way is the film entirely welcomed, with a mixed reception clouding its reputation. However, as I’ll soon decipher, the craft behind Silent Hill is undeniably worthy of cult class. 

Surrealist imagery, an atmospheric score and a labyrinth setting all melt together to create a purposefully incoherent jungle of horror. The rumor of Konami’s 1999 game being developed began circulating in the early 2000s, with director Christophe Gans constantly bartering for the rights to remake the rapidly growing game into a feature film. In fact, Gans was so personally drawn and passionate about this adaptation that during pre-production he would bring a large gaming setup with him so that whilst he was playing cast and crew would see exactly what angles and stages they should focus on re-creating. This is where a primary issue with its critical consensus lies.

Personally speaking, I do not have a great knowledge of video games at all, let alone Silent Hill. Yet, after watching plenty of playthroughs and description pieces I can fully understand how well Gans translated the hellish world of Silent Hill onto the screen. And with this basic knowledge comes a completely new perspective on the film. To lay it bare, the essence of Silent Hill relies neither on a visual frenzy nor a discerning setting, instead it’s unique perspective depends on every single detail above, even the small features that go unnoticed make a drastic difference to the audience’s experience. 

This amalgamation is tremendously challenging to effectively orchestrate. The story itself continuously takes 180 turns whenever it pleases, seeming almost nonsensical at times; but, let’s not forget that Gans is recreating a video game that has an almost unlimited amount of moves and scenarios to work your way through. Hence the film running for a staggering 125 minutes. Where I found myself truly drawn in straight away is through the narrative.

We follow Rose (Radha Mitchell), as she takes her adopted daughter Sharon (Jodelle Ferland) to the mysterious town of Silent Hill to uncover the truth behind Sharon’s innate devotion to this town. However, after they get into a car accident en route, Sharon is nowhere to be found. As a basis, I found that the extensively daunting and dark landscape encapsulates the disturbing nature of the story. When we dig down to its roots Silent Hill tells the tale of parallel dimensions and the consequences regarding veneration of power and the idolisation of higher beings. 

In avoidance of abundant spoilers, Silent Hill imitates a curse, where its unlucky visitors become stuck in limbo. The fog-casted town is a purgatory whose history has led Sharon to practically become cursed. However, an effective backstory does not immediately grant the film a gold star, instead, the boundless story can leave audiences bewildered with many questions unanswered. And this is where one of the main criticisms lies. Personally, as a viewer who had no previous experience with the game, I was at first confused with the immeasurable amount of information that I had to comprehend to understand the ending.

Seemingly I was not alone as many reviews voiced hassle over the excessive exposition drops. But for me, this is where my intrigue to know more about this film grew. Colloquially when we first watch a film we do not always become immediate fans, we need time to process and revisit to appreciate its intentions. I’ve watched Silent Hill a handful of times now and I can truthfully say that the constantly expanding universe entwined with the town is entirely enthralling. 

Silent Hill would have not been as effective without the immaculate creature designs. The film’s unnerving atmosphere is impressive, but for audiences to sit through 125 minutes of sole environment-based scares is a lot to ask. Gans re-envisioning of Pyramid Head, Dark Nurses, Grey Children, and Lying Figures all graphically personify what made them so scary in the game.

Perhaps the most interesting and overall perplexing discovery that was made evident by the film is that these monsters primarily disturb as they are all forms of humanoids, rather than completely alien antagonists with zero resemblance to an actual person. Sharon’s connection to Silent Hill is due to a tragedy that was struck by people; everything regarding the horror of the town is rooted in human consequence

This furthers my next point, the symbolism behind Silent Hill. It takes only a brief read of a synopsis to compare Rose’s journey into the abandoned town to Dante’s Inferno. The tale of Dante’s Inferno is such an iconic method used in the horror genre to attain a deeper meaning to a film, which of course leads to rushed endings and a plethora of stereotypes. Yet, in this case it’s hard to think of a more viable explanation. Grief, revenge, fear, anarchy, trauma, and guilt all come to life within each setting of Silent Hill. Of course, I’m not going to explain the copious layers moulded within Inferno, but when we compare the torturing of souls without rest, alongside the grossly immoral evils of lust that led to the corruption and downfall of Silent Hill we can rest assured make sense of this ambiguously misleading universe. 


The legacy of Silent Hill has been rather unconventional. Unlike many horror adaptations, Silent Hill was not made into an ever-expanding film franchise, with only one sequel to bare its name to. However, the game did soar as multiple editions and continuations followed. What we can take away from this retrospective look at Silent Hill is that the actual visual appeal that Gans has produced, combined with the game’s true essence of immorality and personal dread has certainly left its mark on video game adaptations within horror.

This weeks article comes via Grace from Film Overload, you can check out more of her work here.

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Original vs remake Reviews

Original vs. Remake: It (1990) & It (2017)

Remakes, reboots, and revivals have taken possession over a hefty section of horror productions, with a plethora of classics being reenvisioned to either accommodate younger and newer audience members or to bring new light to beloved genre favourites. Although we have seen our fair share of remakes gone wrong, there remains a select bunch of films whose newer additions have proven to be just as good or even better than the original.

For this ‘Original vs Remake’ edition, we will be comparing It (Tommy Lee Wallace, 1990) and It (Andy Muschietti, 2017). 

Storming onto the screens in 1990 is It, a terrifying portrayal of a demonic entity who takes on the shape of a clown to terrorise its victims every 27 years. However, its latest string of targets (the self-acclaimed “Losers Club”) may just be brave enough to banish Pennywise for good. Unlike a generic (yet anything but mundane) humanoid creature Pennywise the Clown does not play the typical game of lurching out from dark corners and hiding under the bed, instead, it preys upon individuals own specific fears to weaken and destroy them in what is their worst nightmare.

Of course one of the only writers capable of conjuring such an unsettling story is Stephen King. King penned It in 1986, and although the film drifts slightly from the novel the true essences are kept clear. 

To determine the winner of the old and new “It’s” is an impossible battle as each film encapsulates alternative identities, but to firstly differentiate between the two we need to discuss the classic character of Pennywise. The 1990 It casts Tim Curry (The Rocky Horror Picture Show) as the dreaded clown, with simple makeup and costume (at least for a clown). As Curry is the titular character there is an immense amount of pressure to create a multidimensional performance that can both lure his child victims in and then frighten the living daylights out of them.

Curry does not fail once, in fact, I might even go as far as stating that his portrayal is one of the best that horror has ever seen. The sheer embodiment of shapeshifting terror is brutally brazen, which is only furthered by Curry’s witty balance of stark humour and horrifying antics

It was made as a tv miniseries, with two episodes and a total original length of 192 minutes, with the physical release merging the episodes to become a feature length movie. It is a unique factor within itself for a ‘made-for-tv’ movie to become an outstanding success, let alone make its mark as one of the most iconic horror’s. Due to the broadcasting, certain restrictions were put in place that is typically abolished within mainstream horror including a limit to bloodshed and gore, as well as censorship to graphic content.

After horror audiences were subjected to grisly violence from exaggerated 1980s horror, It certainly was a breath of fresh air. Audiences’ tactics shifted from gratuitous shock to psychological character studies. We are not met with generous carnage, with the piece actually having an almost black comedy mechanism. However, the comic motifs are not a replacement of fear, with the flicking of Curry’s performance from inviting to menacing being nothing less than startling. 

On this note, It relies upon subtext and internalised concepts to create a bounding journey. During the first act, we see the losers club as children dealing with their own individual issues, which are rather harrowing yet realistic considering their age including traumatic milestones such as grief, and abuse. Although the ‘losers are all dealing with scarring experiences Lee Wallace does not show them in extreme jeopardy, with the camera simply cutting to their expressions when Pennywise strikes. Despite some scenes feeling slightly dated, It is an undeniable classic that still holds up to this day. 

News of a remake began to emerge from as early as 2009, but it was not until 2015 when the production began to pick up speed with Muschietti being announced as the director. The trailer almost immediately amassed a cult following of its own, with the view count entering the millions. The brand new shiny Pennywise enthralled audiences (myself included!). Curry’s vivid and rambunctious appearance was wiped away in favour of a brandished shadowed look complete with dusty clothing and a more styled-out ginger barnet.

Bill Skarsgård took the brave step of becoming the nerve-wracking Pennywise. Such an iconic role is accompanied by severe pressures, however truthfully his small appearance in the trailer and posters was enough to create a swift fan appeal. It was about to enter onto the horror scene with a killer force, conjuring a vigorous reputation as being one of the highest-grossing horror films of all time

It is not better than the original, but it is on par. There are a plethora of reasons as to why this is my belief, but one of my main factors is that the loser’s club has refined and well-developed personas that transcend into a coming-of-age movie. Quite favourably I admire any film that decides to use age appropriate characters rather than twenty-somethings playing tweens. Although It (1990) enacts the same character backstories, the relationships between the losers have such an authentic bond that plays out as non-scripted; just as if the camera was kept rolling whilst they would playfully make jabs at one another.

Simply due to more modern filmmaking and techniques, Muschietti transforms the fictional town of Derry, Maine into a hellish landscape with treacherous corners lurking in the ordinary. Pennywise does not even have to be in shot for our senses to start heightening. The atmosphere alone is daunting, with the town hoarding a dark omen; Derry exceeds being just a town, instead it becomes a character. This is certainly an aspect that It (2017) focuses on, alongside one of the other primary differences, the graphicness.

It does not shun its psychodrama roots, yet we are welcomed to indulge in grisly carnage. Although visual gore is not the focus, there is plenty of horrific imagery whose sole purpose serves to disconcert our awareness. The infamous opening scene shows a little Georgie (Jackson Robert Scott) chase his paper boat that falls down a storm drain where he fatally meets Pennywise. At first, Pennywise dons the joyous clown persona to fool Georgie, before he mutates into a disgustingly ferocious beast with razor-sharp fangs ripping into this small boy’s arm. His metamorphosis into a barbaric behemoth both entices and panics the audiences. 

Muschietti and Lee Wallace’s take on King’s beyond incredible tale of a demonic clown truly emulates and escalates some of the most vital and engrossing moments of the book. It is not necessary to compare and battle these two films as they are each substantially iconic in their own individual ways. I view them as equal contenders who compliment each other, and both deserve their own hallmark within the horror film history. 

This weeks article comes via Grace from Film Overload, you can check out more of her work here.

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Reviews

Review: The Power

“Slow burn tale of 1970s blackouts in an East London hospital, that linger with you long after viewing”

Unlike many atmospheric horrors, The Power does not fall helpless to one tone scares and gimmicks. Instead, we are prescribed a potion of outstanding performances, apt pacing, and a lingering sense of dread, all melted together with a tremendously haunting setting.

The Power is written and directed by Corinna Faith and starring Rose Williams (Sandition). We follow Val (Willaims), a young and naive nurse on her first shift at a very strict hospital in 1970s East London. Her time on the ward is already burdened as the austere Matron (Diveen Henry) makes it clear that one mistake will end Val’s budding career, however, an authoritarian environment is her least concern as a nation-wide power cut brings out deadly secrets

The Power uses the backdrop of the 1970s blackouts to convey an innately eerie setting, with the government announcing limited electrical consumption in a bid to ward off total prolonged periods of power cuts due to strikes, plunging the already tangled maze of a hospital into an indistinguishable labyrinth of terror. The long empty hallways have a literal dark spell cast over them, making it possible for anything to hide in the dark and allowing for the isolating corridors to become a void of darkness. Following this organically chilling setting is a barrage of long shots lingering over Val and harnessing a sense of foreboding doom which is kept tightly under wraps.

The Power certainly toys with our expectations as Val’s ‘too sweet to be true’ persona is utilised as a veil that harbours a hidden past of deceit. Is it a coincidence that Val is placed in a dark ward with an even shadowier past? Or is she destined to live out this horrid night?

It is aspects such as the unpredictability of events that Faith employs to nurse our inclinations about who to trust. For me when a film takes an unforeseen turn where our habitual instincts are twisted then the effect has a greater payoff. A mundane formula is thrown out the window when it comes to The Power, with us being kept in the dark just as much as Val and her colleagues. However, the depths that the film manages to reach would not have been possible without the stellar performance by Williams. Throughout the entire film, Val exhibits a complex range of emotive states, with her balancing melancholy innocence alongside eccentric hysteria. 

A further inclination that The Power floats around regards the connotations of hierarchical power, not just electrical. Faith ambitiously nods to positions of power within 1970s Britain, with a keen depiction of the female nurses being subjected to cruel behaviour and demanding orders. One of the least subtle cues includes one of Val’s colleagues describing how the book she’s reading follows “a girl who has enough and brings the whole place down”, and of course she’s referencing Carrie. Val is often framed in positions of vulnerability; an abuse awareness poster illustarting a woman with her hands clamped across her mouth actually reflects upon Val’s face in a prominent example. Her doe-eyed stance frames her as a fragile lost girl, who even prior to starting the ‘dark shift’ has all of the lights in her small bedroom turned on. The dark exaggerates her loneliness and helplessness, pandering evil circumstances to her beckon. 

With a slow burn stance unravelling throughout this film it is certainly not for everyone, but for those with an interest in disconcerting narratives and an attraction to stories that linger around you long after viewing, then The Power is certainly for you. 

The Power is available to watch via Shudder right now!

This weeks article comes via Grace from Film Overload, you can check out more of her work here.

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Reviews

Review: Violation

Violation stormed through film festivals forming a fierce reputation, with floods of praise following closely behind. Soon a budding curiosity into why this film was gaining so much recognition occurred, but now with Violation streaming on Shudder we can entirely understand its limelight. Madeleine Sims-Fewer and Dusty Mancinelli have curated a sorely brutal genre challenger, with its allegorical skeleton provoking even the most seasoned of viewers. The film follows Miriam (Sims-Fewer), and her husband Caleb (Obi Abili), as they visit her blissful sister Greta (Anna Maguire), and her charming husband Dylan (Jesse La Vercombe). However, their sunny weekend soon buckles when Miriam’s relationship with Dylan reaches a boiling point.

Early on it is made rather evident that Miriam and Caleb have serious relationship issues, which is even furthered highlighted when we see Dylan and Greta fooling around, imitating a teenage romance. Yet, the disharmony runs deeper than what we are first made to believe, as Miriam and Dylan’s chemistry is intoxicatingly electric. Their light flirting can be easily masked as playful banter, but their lusty gazes spill a brewing attraction. After a somewhat tumultuous argument between Greta and Miriam we are non-surprisingly met with the truth that Miriam is a selfish person whose self-acclaimed ‘good deeds’ are for her satisfaction only. And it’s with this notion that the film drifts from the rape revenge archetype. Miriam and Dylan cosy up by the fire, with a warm auburn glow framing their mood, and although she shows a faint sign of want, she soon backs away with a stern warning that she is faithful within her marriage and respects her sister, as well as herself. However, the unthinkable still occurs.

Revenge cinema is inherently visceral, merciless, and coarse. Although Violation understands its genre privileges, it denies conformity, and instead breathes through our moral compass. Classic avengers of rape revenge films, such as Jennifer Hills (Camille Keaton) in I Spit on Your Grave (1978) represent the personification of our anger over said unjust acts. Without indulging in spoilers, Violation fires the ‘right or wrong’ trope through choosing to harbour both of the main characters actions through similar lights.

This is where Violation harshly shines. Assault is not provoked, nor is using flirting as an excuse acceptable. Miriam is a hopeless victim to the worst of crimes, just as much as any other. We do not particularly mellow to her character; she is actually rather bothersome. But a victim she remains. Being a saint is not in alignment with being a victim. Violation confronts us with a grueling truth that not many other revenge films do. No is no, regardless of circumstances or character portrayal.

Violation truly infiltrates the notion of ambiguity even further through the final act. After the assault, the film drifts into a trippy structure and utilises non-linear storytelling, almost embodying the cruel consequence of confusion that comes after harm. The rest of the film twists our perception and positions Miriam as a ruthless punisher. Without risking plot points, she becomes barbaric and cold with her revenge, with Sims-Fewer and Mancinelli using intensely realistic visuals and gruellingly graphic dialogue to disturb.

To accompany such a stark narrative is a glowing cinematography that utilises its nature-based setting to boast a deep symbolism. The manner in which Violation is composed exposes the seedy underbelly of nature, with plenty of close-up shots of insects and animals in different stages of their life cycles. Visuals such as a spider falling to its death and a caterpillar crawling along embodies what the film successfully attempts to convey; the ferociousness of human nature is inevitable and the position of prey to predator is a constantly evolving chain which eventually twists.

With a dark air continuously being laden over every scene it’s no wonder that Violation has been met with glowing reviews, however one aspect that I feel needs more attention is the absolutely phenomenal performance by Sims-Fewer. In what I could only imagine is an extremely draining role comes a unique responsibility to show respect to an awfully harrowing situation. Sims-Fewer does just this, through avoiding displaying Miriam’s actions as hysterical (as usually seen in revenge films), but instead through homing in emotions of distress, anger, grief, and regret. Creating an all-encompassing role that refuses to portray the victim as a flaming ball of anger, but one who is experiencing gaslighting and dismissiveness from those she should trust the most.

Violation sets a new path for revenge cinema, with a varied range rousing contemplative questions and a unique perspective on what it means to be a victim.

Violation is available to watch via Shudder right now!

This weeks article comes via Grace from Film Overload, you can check out more of her work here.

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Reviews

Top ten classic horror movies from the 1990s

1- Scream (Wes Craven, 1996)

“There are certain rules that one must abide by in order to successfully survive a horror movie.” This self-proclaimed meta movie arrived onto the horror scene at a time when it was in urgent need of a boost. As much as we all love our entertaining 1980s horrors, it positioned the genre in a midst of insincerity where there was a general lack of respect and regard for horror being considered actual ‘cinema’, rather than just schlock. And it took the directorial skills of Wes Craven and the imaginative writing of Kevin Williamson to bring horror back to the limelight for good. Scream has since become a classic, with its overarching wit and deconstructing attitude blossoming a tv series and three additional films, as well as a highly anticipated fifth film coming soon

2- It (Tommy Lee Wallace, 1990)

Pennywise the dancing clown may have won over most audiences with the 2017 remake directed by Andy Muschietti, but this devilish clown’s success is loaned by Tim Curry’s portrayal of possibly one of the most sinister characters from the entire 1990s. Legendary author Stephen King penned It in 1986, and although production companies were hesitant to fund a ‘horror’ production the film’s popularity soared across television networks with great success. It is unconventional in the sense that Curry’s erratically terrifying performance conjures an entirely ruthless villain who will no doubt feed off every viewer’s darkest fears, making It a titular horror not to be missed. 

3- Candyman (Bernard Rose, 1992)

Do not even dare say Candyman’s name five times into a mirror, otherwise you will regret it… Clive Barker’s short storyThe Forbidden is the basis for this urban legend based horror. It is this folklore element that forces Candyman to shine; throughout we are held by both the film’s sinisterly gruesome moments, alongside the mystery surrounding Candyman’s identity. The subject of identity is continuously referred to as we follow Helen (Virginia Madsen), who is caught in a whirlwind as she attempts to solve the mystery of why Candyman spends infinity taunting neighbourhoods and who this monster really is. But it is the true presence that Candyman has which makes it one of the most important horrors of the 1990s. The film aided the visibility of the horror film to mainstream cinema, with it claiming positive reviews and positive critical exception within a short period after its release. Since its release it has spawned into a franchise, with an exciting companion film produced by Jordan Peele being released this year

4- The Craft (Andrew Fleming, 1996)

The Craft has rightly conjoined its power to the 1990s teen tenet that saw an influx of horror films aimed towards an adolescent audience. The film craftly investigates the dire consequences of angsty spell casting and the occult, all whilst throwing in an ounce of high school hierarchy for good measure. This film has become a cult classic, with its reputation still being prominent amongst fans today. This is primarily thanks to its denotation, including the underlying themes of marginalisation and a constant juxtaposition between goth witches held against a middle class suburban catholic school. 

5- The Blair Witch Project (Eduardo Sánchez & Daniel Myrick, 1999)

It would be nearly impossible to create a list of the best 1990s horror without mentioning The Blair Witch Project. This showstopper has divided opinions ever since its release, with new viewers dismissing its scares and announcing it as mundane. Despite negative opinions the sheer success and speculation regarding this film is undeniable, with its release almost creating mass hysteria with many audiences believing that the film is real lost footage of real murders. How could this have happened? Well, it turns out that an extremely cunning marketing strategy really is worth it. The film’s website released seemingly authentic newsreel footage and missing person reports. Alongside this the directors would claim that this was genuine and that they had released it to spread the word to find the ‘missing actors. The film preceded time and went viral before ‘viral’ strategies became popular

6- The Silence of the Lambs (Jonathan Demme, 1991)

The Silence of the Lambs will forever go down in history as being one of the few horrors to ever reach a prestigious level and receive an Academy Award for Best Picture in 1991. Much of the film’s success is owed to the incredible performances of both Jodie Foster and Anthony Hopkins roles, which saw them tackle a cat and mouse style tease with an inept ease. The film also generated a kickstart in 1990s thrillers taking dark seedy routes to provoke a reaction, with David Fincher’s Seven (1995) being a prime example. Since its release, an attempt at making the film into a full franchise has been tried, although these efforts have mainly fallen flat. However, the true terror of The Silence of the Lambs remains the exact same today. 

7- Audition (Takashi Miike, 1999)

Audition is a unique and complex film that relies upon its dismissal of genre tropes through a non-linear narrative, mainly influenced by surrealist elements. We follow a lonely widow, who in a desperate attempt for love opens an audition for a new companion. With Audition’s disorientating discourse we find ourselves in awkward settings that play out like a romantic comedy, but with an ever-looming presence of dread. The entire film is one drawn out build up to a terrifying climax. And it is within this slow burning tension where our fear is prolonged, and our wits confused. The film can be read as an allegory for the dramatic effects that come with the objectification of women, alongside a character study based upon the consequences of trauma

8- Misery (Rob Reiner, 1990)

As with many horror lists, Stephen King makes a second appearance with his thrillingly dark hit Misery. The film closely follows King’s original story, with the primary storybeats remaining very similar. Misery takes the premise of a “number one fan” and runs with it. We follow Paul Sheldon (James Caan), a novelist who finds himself stranded in a blizzard, but luckily Annie (Kathy Bates), rescues him and vows to take care of him…forever. What works incredibly well in Misery and allows it to be still so chilling is the belting tension that does not give up throughout the whole film. To only further this is an extremely isolating setting, where any chance of rescue is near impossible, especially when the captor disguises her real guise of an ‘angel of mercy’ so well. 

9- Ringu (Hideo Nakata, 1998)

Japanese horror has always been prevalent with classics emerging from the country since the 1960s & 1970s, with films such as Onibaba (1964) and Hausu (1977) gaining cult recognition. However, the release of Ringu saw a resurgence in Japanese horror, becoming a widely respected subgenre. The film follows a cursed video tape that releases a vengeful ghost (known as an onryō) to kill those unlucky enough to watch the haunted tape. On a deeper level Ringu reflects the structure of traditional Japanese families, with the film reflecting issues regarding the loss of a nuclear household structure as a result of the country’s fading stance within the global economy during the early 1990s. 

10- From Dusk till Dawn (Robert Rodriguez, 1996)

From Dusk till Dawn gained immediate success due to the involvement of Quentin Tarantino, however even without the garnishing of Tarantino’s legacy From Dusk till Dawn would remain a significantly paramount film within 1990s horror. The film tiptoes towards the western genre with the primary setting being in the Mexican desert as two crooks attempt to escape a saloon inhabited by vampires. This hybridisation allows for complex antagonists to shine, particularly on a visual level almost reminiscent of exploitation B-movies. Plenty of violence and extravagance is laid on display, yet it is so purposeful and truthfully entertaining that any overblown plot points just add to the excitement, rather than distract from the tone. 

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Review – The Columnist

“Devilishly dark fantasy of one woman who has had enough”

The internet is an innate place for hate to breed. Opinions will be chewed and spit out by enraged profiles, therefore it was only about time a good old-fashioned revenge horror was made about it. The Columnist is a satirically dark horror film directed by Ivo van Aart and starring Katja Herbers (Westworld) and Bram van der Kelen. We follow Femke Boot (Herbers), a middle-class single parent tackling her critics in a rather unconventional way. As soon as The Columnist hit last year’s film festivals including Fantasia Festival and FrightFest, it became the latest ‘next best thing’, with positive reviews flooding in and it’s safe to say here at Dead Northern we are definitely in favour of van Aart’s instant classic. 

The Columist 2

The film blasts a modern motive. Most of us have experienced a bout of internet trolling, (albeit we do not release our frustration in the same way Femke does) through disagreeing with someone’s comments or being brave enough to put ourselves out there in the first place. The animosity behind keyboard warriors creates a thriving thrill for those who want to shame, and The Columnist takes great pride in enacting a devilishly dark fantasy of one woman who has had enough; Femke is our lead character, and the primary culprit behind the gruesome deaths plaguing anyone who dares to threaten her. The above-mentioned animosity is her greatest weapon as it enables her to carry on with her killing spree without the law following too close behind.

It’s this timely narrative that makes the film stand out on a wider level. Before we delve into the grisly details let’s take a quick moment to focus on the principal message at hand, unrepentant provokers. Throughout the film, Femke is brutalised for voicing her opinions, and despite a heated on-air discussion revolving around the harsh after-effects that come with trolls, the negative comments proceed to reign over every inch of humanity. Can we say that we are fully on her side? No, however, her vigilante persona does make for one hell of a wild ride into vengeance

To play alongside Femke’s retaliation are a couple of subplots revolving around a budding romance and her daughter experiencing similar issues with speaking out at school, all in all making a multi-layered film that manages to tackle various interests without becoming too vague. Of course, besides the social commentary, this is a horror film, and blood, guts, and gore massively flourish. Within the short run time, we are treated to a plethora of delightfully savage kill scenes, with a personal favourite involving a rather vulnerable victim and a laptop… (It’s best left up to the imagination).

The Columnist

The performances fashion the film. We see Herber flawlessly portray a woman vexed by misogynistic roars. Throughout The Columnist, a para-dynamic shift in both character developments and pacing is made clear. Femke agonises over her feedback for a while before finally lashing out, this turning point only serves as an acceleration into madness. The deaths become more ruthless, she becomes clumsy in her discreteness and the threats only worsen. But do not be fooled, van Aart does not spend the whole runtime pouring our interests into her rage, our attention is also bound by Femke’s love interest, Steven Dood (van der Kelen) who I thought played the reverse role of an ‘angels advocate’ sat on the devil’s shoulder, shedding light into a dark situation. 

As someone who spends a hefty amount of time online, I can slightly sympathise with Femke’s descent into obsession. We are on her side for the majority of the film, yet the last act pens the blame on the perpetrator. Is Femke just as wrong? Of course, there is little justification for her acts. Yet, the muted setting combined with the glory of chaos allows for a deeply transgressive narrative to shine at a time when it’s most needed. 

The Columnist is available to watch via VOD right now!

This weeks article comes via Grace from Film Overload, you can check out more of her work here.

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Reviews

Ten underrated 1990s horror movies

1. Strangeland (John Pieplow, 1998)

This highly influential film barely receives any credit for being a significant instigator within the world of technology based horror. The film centres upon a deluded internet creep nicknamed ‘Captain Howdy who lures his victims in via an online chat forum. But what makes Strangeland sinisterly standout is Howdy’s malicious methods he exacts upon his prey, including ritualistic pain and body modification.

The abject reaction of the body being modified in nonconforming ways grips the audience and unfortunately makes us unable to turn away from such gruesome sights. Of course, these aspects of modern primitive culture are seen as a rite of passage in many environments, however Howdy graphically enforces his ethos amongst innocent victims. Yet, Strangeland does not overtly fall into the trap of ‘torture-horror’ as the story primarily focuses upon the judicial process of a detective attempting to save society from these savage antics.

2. Idle Hands (Rodman Flender, 1999)

Idle Hands has all the elements of a 1990s teen horror, however instead of being discernibly formulaic, Flender leads the film with a dark slice of humorous energy. The film follows Anton (Devon Sawa), whose possessed hand takes him on a murderous rampage.

At the time of release Idle Hands received mixed reviews, with many of the feedback falling towards the negative side. Critics labelled the film as nonsensical and absent minded, but from a retrospective point of view it is these attributes that make Idle Hands an entertaining ride into the obscure and absurd. The frenzied plot elements allow for audiences to get lost within the hilariously yet disturbed story.

3. Cure (Kiyoshi Kurosawa, 1997)

Cure is possibly one of the most undeservedly underrated horrors ever, with such elaborate craftsmanship and highly engrossing plot lines going under so many viewers’ radars. Cure follows a detective as he attempts to uncover the identity of a gruesome serial killer whose signature is carving an ‘X’ into his victim’s necks. The film was one of the original authors in forming the new wave of Japanese horror, thus establishing the archetype for hits such as Ringu and Ju-on.

Throughout the film we experience a lack of horror tropes and ghouls, instead we are gifted with the bare minimum. Horror does not have to be gratuitous and grand within its execution, instead empty space and strong horrific emotions such as grief and threat is enough to achieve great levels of horror. Cure is a highly acclaimed film, with audiences and critics adoring Kurosawa’s lingering visuals. However, the primary reason for its entry on this list is due to the sheer lack of acknowledgement that Cure has been subjected to since its release. Cure should rightfully shine in every ‘top 10 list’.

4.Cronos (Guillermo del Toro, 1993)

Although del Toro is now a beloved auteur, his early work is where his horror roots truly beamed. Cronos’ plot is best left to the surprise, but the basic premise follows the discovery of a small golden device that unleashes its addictive force amongst its possessor. The film spiritually embodies the role of a mythological tale, whilst exploring the potent power of immortality alongside grotesque imagery.

Such aspects are gradually uncovered in a particular way that tiptoes towards a metaphorical framework, surrounding itself with the temptation of prolonged existence. Cronos entices the viewer in with an intriguing storyline, but before audiences can get too comfortable del Toro exerts harsh moments of horror and desperation to create a memorable film that has a long reputation of being misunderstood and underappreciated.

5. Thesis (Alejandro Amenábar, 1996)

Thesis follows a young student who investigates the relationship between audiovisual media and violence, however events take a turn for the worst when she uncovers an unsettling snuff film. Thesis disavows the audience from cementing any expectations as Amenabar continuously mystifies the identity of who created this snuff film.

What makes Thesis work so well is the constant development of characters, not once can we reach a solid conclusion on whether to trust a particular character, even the lead protagonist. It’s this dimensionality that makes the film gripping throughout. Thesis runs with the detective-thriller craze that majorly bombarded the 1990s, with Seven being the lead example.

6. Nadja (Michael Almereyda, 1994)

Nadja transforms the classic vampire tale through reconstructing vampiric tropes within horror. We follow the story of contemporary vampires from New York as they set aside their dysfunctionalities to come together after their fathers death, all the whilst Van Heilsing threatens to interrupt their debilitated harmony.

The most notable reason as to why Nadja is a must-see is the film’s overt presence of a semi-arthouse style combined with a unique drawl that showcases a distance between the characters and the audience. There is no need to emotionally connect with the leads, we are instead here to witness a witty story that sophistically alludes to a purposeful deadpan humour.

7. Cube (Vincenzo Natali, 1997)

Cube is a uniquely crafted film that follows a motley crew of individuals who are trapped in a complex and dangerous trap to see how far one will go to survive these vicious traps. Cube only gained a small fraction of attention upon its release, and although it now has taken over a niche corner in the genre through its cult status, it is still a relatively unknown gem.

There are an array of visceral scenes that illustrate just how damaging these traps are, but the most enchanting aspect of Cube surrounds its concept. The box-like setting has been referred to as Kafkaesque due to the disorientating and helpless nature of consequences. This combined with the growing tension creates a claustrophobic environment that acts as a horrific labyrinth of torture.

8. There’s Nothing Out There (Rolfe Kanefsky, 1991)

Horror comedy can be a scattered genre, with one too many films becoming parodied versions of comedy rather than actually entertaining the viewer. A time when this was unfortunately rife was the late 1980s/early 1990s; due to the colossal amount of absurdity that many 1980s slashers used, it became difficult for future horror comedies to stand out. However, There’s Nothing Out There somehow tackles a story featuring a film geek, raging teens and a mutant frog without becoming anything less than an extremely amusing ride.

9. Troublesome Night (Steve Cheng, Victor Tam and Herman Yau, 1997)

Even the most seasoned of viewers have never heard of this anthology horror originating from Hong Kong. The basic premise is simple, a series of loosely connected ghost stories are depicted. The true intrigue of Troublesome Night is the lack of pattern, across the whole film we are teased with seemingly scary segments that turn out to be rather satirical, however in the following segment we are lured in with the promise of a dark comedy then end up being unnerved by the chilling visuals and haunting themes. Although Troublesome Night is relatively unknown it has spawned a further 19 films.

10. The People Under the Stairs (Wes Craven, 1991)

Wes Craven will forever be one of the most iconic horror filmmakers of all time, however The People Under the Stairs has at times slipped under the radar. The film follows a break in gone wrong, with plenty of twists and turns alongside creepy antics to keep the viewer engrossed the entire time. What makes this gem so memorable is its unique and clever execution of both horror and humour.

This weeks article comes via Grace from Film Overload, you can check out more of her work here.