In a bid to develop a new hair growth formula, scientist Freddy Campbell (Ian Ray-White) develops a secret serum using pickled wolfsbane. However, the strange concoction transforms Freddy from a meek man into a monstrous werewolf hungry for flesh.
It Be an Evil Moon comes from the mind of Ben Etchells, who in his directorial debut creates a gnarly indie horror steeped in furry madness and bloodthirsty delight, showcasing the true mania of werewolf movies. The film balances its eccentricity thanks to the equal measures of off-kiltered humour that continuously tethers itself to dark comedy, and due to its rather impressive practical effects, particularly concerning the epic lycanthrophic metamorphosis of Freddy.
Shadowing the cracking exposition of a scientist-turned-werewolf is the film’s unmissable appeasement to classic British wolfman horrors. The Curse of the Werewolf (1961), American Werewolf in London (1981), Dog Soldiers (2002) and Howl (2015) all ooze that quintessential British feel of traditional monotony to terror, with a dose macabre comedy and folkloric undertones. Whilst It Be an Evil Moon in no way mimics the conventionalities of these films, what Etchells does do is extract that same magnetism to conjure a narrative heaped with rural, gothic, sinister connotations.
Whilst credence is deservedly owed to Etchells for his witty take on werewolf mayhem, it would be beastly to forgo a mention to the vibrant performances throughout. The maniacal and certainly ‘eccentric’ character of Freddy is played by Ian Ray-White, who executes the grisly persona with a savagery that makes for a lasting viewing experience. Seconding the spirited performances is the film’s way with tonality, both visually and narratively. It Be an Evil Moon exudes a bleak richness that makes the thrills thrive against the mundanity of Freddy’s initial settings and situation – think Sightseers (2012) or Prevenge (2016).
It Be an Evil Moon takes heed of the classic werewolf tragedy and inspiration from the gloomy yet brilliant portrayals seen within British horror and creates a tale saturated with horror excellence.
Check out the full festival programme and get your tickets here!!
From the director of the award-winning ‘Guardians’ (2017) is Mark A. C. Brown’s latest horror film, Dead on the Vine, an intricately woven story that follows two suspicious men who come across a vineyard just in time for a crucial wine tasting evening.
Dead on the Vine’s closed and extremely intense setting may seem uncomfortably familiar to viewers, which is all thanks to Brown taking heed of the Covid pandemic and creating an isolating, boundary-testing thriller that weaponises the horror of humanity under pressure. Shadowing the brute force of duress is the film’s superb dissection of the psyche, forming a fierce insight into the leaps and bounds we are willing to take to tackle our demons.
The confrontational spectacle of a cat-and-mouse-like mind game brings to mind films such as Funny Games (1997), where the daunting nature of terrorisation within the home thrives. However, the turbulent twists and turns (which are best left to self-discover) stray from any form of replication or conventionality as you genuinely are left in the dark about what is happening next. The strain of attention-commanding cinema additionally continues in the aesthetics of the film. Not only is the general production value fantastic, with every frame exhibiting absorbingly great camera quality, but the cinematography itself is also beyond admirable, with the visuals taking advantage of the stunning vineyard setting.
Dead on the Vine is a tense, ticking time bomb that is both a tight-knit character study and an unnerving tale that keeps spiralling right up until the very shocking and heartfelt ending.
Check out the full festival programme and get your tickets here!!
Devotion, intensity, desire, all the small details that make a relationship burst with passion also have the potential to turn poisonous, embedding romance with toxicity. Victim to this cruel spate of love is Ruby (Amanda Jane Stern), who has been with her on-and-off partner David (Stephen Carlilse) for eight years. After a six-month break, Ruby returns to David, hoping for another chance of reconciliation. However, this time round the pair might not make it for another reunion.
Perfectly Good Moment captures the cinematic brilliance of tense, psychosexual thrillers, as director Lauren Greenhall weaponises the small cast to create an intimate and uncomfortably close environment where the deep seeded trauma of the narrative thrives; particularly at the hands of Ruby. David’s bond with Ruby is rife with manipulation: demanding her on what to do, how to act, how to live. Yet, rather than Greenhall, simply ‘showing’ the pattern of abuse in the archetypal way, she develops Ruby’s character with a spark of agency. Whilst the gritty details are best left to the viewer’s surprise, what can be noted is that Perfectly Good Moment bites back, unveiling ‘hidden’ abuse and showing that Ruby (representing all women) are not weak, feeble beings willing to put up with the David’s of the world.
The film’s captivating intrigue does not stop at the proverbial narrative buck as Perfectly Good Moment is secondarily adorned with hauntingly raw camerawork that both captivates and intensifies the emotional richness of the story. Greenhall, along with cinematographer Matt Braunsdorf exercise the hazy, deadly romance essence with each frame basking in a dream-like aura that takes advantage of the film’s warm, almost autumnal lighting to create a landscape visually quaint with harmony; which stunningly and strikingly juxtaposes against the film’s brutal, harsh, and sinister undertones.
As if the atmosphere and hazed tonal qualities were not enough, the film further aggravates the impassioned emotionality of it all through the intricate and touching performances from leads, Stern and Carlilse. Together the duo enact a candid relationship, where the vigour of the striking story thrives, propelling Perfectly Good Moment to be a work that truly stands out.
Check out the full festival programme and get your tickets her
Botched body modifications, mysterious vampires, deadly honeytraps and a rib-tickling reincarnation of Mary Whitehouse all emerge from this not to be missed, wickedly twisted, anthology feature.
Bounding these terrifying tales is the overarching premise of an evil video shop housing the VHS-esque short stories, with the crypt keeper of the store (Martin Payne) and his menacing layer providing the perfect backdrop for the unhinged, riotous and absurdly gruesome shorts to come to life. Video Shop Tales of Terror houses some truly exemplary exmaples of indie filmmaking, rife with gnarly effects that will satisfy hardcore gore hounds and more than enough side-splitting laughs.
One aspect that immediately sparks interest is how individualistic the films are. Not at one moment do you know what is going to happen next, as we are taken from a tale showcasing a gothic victorian story of a troubled asllyum patient to the audacious ‘Chode the Toad’ featuring none other than Laurence R. Harvey (The Human Centipede 2) .
Bestowing the motley crew of themes is the extensive list of talented filmmakers who all embolden the throwback aesthetics of Video Shop Tales of Terror. Creators, Alexander Churchyard, Michael Fausti, Tom Lee Rutter, Sam Mason Bell, MJ Dixon, Andrew Elias, Geoff Harmer, Tony Mardon all embody that quintessential video-nasty ‘feel’ of the film, epitomising the grungy, exploitative, macabre aesthetics of 1970s/1980s horror.
The segments and fake trailers have a ubiquitous air of originality that further clarifies every filmmaker’s dedication to the genre; essentially, the film is a clear love letter to horror madness. It is an anthology feature that is made by horror fans for horror fans. And no matter what segment you land upon, the enthusiasm for the weird and wonderful dark world of terror and trepidation is always made abundantly clear.
Check out the full festival programme and get your tickets here!!
From the director of the award-winning short Belfast 1912 is Dominic O’Neill’s blast to the past Haunted Ulster Live, an epically spooky venture into a television broadcast gone wrong.
On the night of All Hallows Eve 1998, seasoned TV personality Gerry Burns (Mark Claney) joins forces with children’s presenter Michelle Kelly (Aimee Richardson) to solve the ghostly occurences in a Belfast family home. After the live seance goes array, the set is turned into pure mayhem, resulting in an abduction that leaves Gerry and Michelle to face with their worst nightmares.
Anyone and everyone will remember that shocking night on the 31st of October 1992, when we saw the likes of Michael Parkinson, Sarah Greene, Craig Charles, and Mike Smith succumb to the most horrific paranormal activities. Or at least that’s what we were made to believe. Ghostwatch’s iconic nationwide prank of a faux on-air seance has gone down in history as one of the most beloved hoaxes that fooled and startled an entire nation. However, now 31 years later, Ghostwatch finally meets its match with Haunted Ulster.
This mockumentary broadcast is the epitome of a riveting experience from start to finish, guiding us by the hand as O’Neill takes us on a cinematic ghost ride brimming with chilling exploits and a barrel of laughs to match. Every scene is met with a perfectly paced step further into the exciting happenings, with Gerry and Michelle being thrown through the rings as they delve deeper into the strange mysteries, leading to quite the finale that takes us through the realm of senses, leaving us anxious to the core.
The bursting suspense is attributable to the diegetic lens in the form of a miraged mockumentary-televised special that meets found footage feature, with O’Neill weaponising the inherently eerie nature of the firsthand camera to create a riptide of believability that truly mimics our sense of reality in the most sinister of manners. The self-reflexivity does not stop there, as the film is flush with a corpus of socially aware themes. Haunted Ulster’s Northern Irish setting, particularly with its 1998 timeframe, was rife with the fallbacks and tragedies from The Troubles, leaving the landscape haunted by socio-cultural ghosts. Whilst the film chills with its paranormal backdrop, there is a commendable undercurrent of politically conscious events that panic us on a whole other level.
Haunted Ulster’s expressive descent into harrowing antics makes for an uncanny experience rampant with plenty of Halloween-themed zest that creates the perfect spooky-season must watch!
Check out the full festival programme and get your tickets here!!
The daunting prospect of loss is one that is immune to none; it’s the lingering sense of doom over the injustice of life, the haunting conclusion that we all face. Yet, what if we could banish that dread and thrive in the comfort of blissful existence? This is precisely the colossal scope that Tariq Sayed’s debut feature film Issac considers.
This must-see feature follows Nicholas (Johnny Vivash) and Sarah (Kathryn Louise), a couple plagued by the death of their child to a genetic disease. In the throes of misery, they join a clinical trial that produces perfectly healthy genetically modified infants. However, it is not long before their new son Issac begins to act increasingly erratic, leaving the couple no choice but to unearth the terrifying secret behind it all.
Issac flourishes in its soul-tarnishing narrative that explores how far scientific innovation is willing to go to achieve greatness and how the cruel fates of turbulent nature may not be so inferior after all – akin to a Black Mirror episode, but on steroids! Within this same vein, Issac takes heed with its futuristic talons and dares to expand past archetypal sci-fi probings and entwines a brutal strain of reality against the fantastical backdrop.
Sayed unravels the film in an inherently familiar but chilling environment, the British countryside, which is equipped with all the ominous scenery that woodland habitats innately emit. There is a fitting lack of eccentricity that would have otherwise over-embellished the impeccably written story; instead of soap opera dramatics, the naturally isolating forestry and closed cast act as engrossing prompts for the chaos to ensue.
Furthering the stunningly nihilistic tonal palette and applaudable cinematography are the fantastic performances from Vivash and Louise, who both ignite the screen with passionate portrayals of parents pushed to the absolute limit. Additionally enriching the film are appearances from the likes of Catriona MacColl, who was a regular Lucio Fulci collaborator, with the actress featuring in classics such as The Beyond, City of the Living Dead, and The House by the Cemetery.
Isaac is a brilliant addition to the world of independent cinema, an ode to the vast capabilities that indie horror consistently offers. Sayed is a creator that should be on everyones ‘to-watch’ list, with the praiseworthy director currently developing more exciting projects to be unveiled in the future…
Check out the full festival programme and get your tickets here!!
Conjuring a film permeated with a terrifying, unforgettable tale is Sins of the Father, a work of mysticism from the director of the Oxford Comma Film Cooperative, Vanessa M.H Powers.
Aden (David Michaeli) and his mother, Sarah (Nora Targonski O’Brien), are faced with the daunting task of selling their old family home, a place filled with troubled memories. In the midst of making the house barren, they discover a mass of menacing secrets…
The film’s diegesis is utterly imbued with an omnipotent nature that calls to one of cinema’s finest keynotes – folk horror. The horticulture of folklore that runs throughout Sins of the Father creates an enchanting landscape brimming with eerie lighting and an unearthly sense of isolation that makes the film’s sinister reveals even more threatening. Seconding the nexus of deadly folkloric tones is the intricate writing from Tristan M. Corrigan, whose blisteringly chilling script absorbs us into the foreboding antics and creates a beyond ominous experience we won’t ever forget.
It is to no avail that independent film is the backbone of cinema, purporting the veins of filmmaking and ensuring that the brilliant minds such as that of Powers are able to translate their visions. When it comes to Sins of the Father, we can see the beauty of homegrown horror on every inch of the screen. The performances are powerful and an ode to dedicated acting, the setting is quaintly complex, and the cinematography is intense, as each frame seizes our attention.
The labyrinth of distressing familial undertones is perfectly suited to the likes of Hereditary (2018) and Relic (2020), particularly in the sense of how the deeply embedded lines of generational trauma can have the ability to inflict a sense of harm across every inch of one’s life. Sins of the Father is uncomfortably confrontational, taking heed of its own uneasy atmospheric tone to create a film wrapped up in terror and trepidation.
Check out the full festival programme and get your tickets here!!
Jamie Lancaster (Lyndsey Craine) stands bloodied, wielding a chainsaw, surrounded by the gory remains of her friends, before Britain’s take on Gale Weathers enters the frame describing the treacherous crime scene as Jamie is escorted away by police. However, this conclusion is far from over as we learn what really happened that one fateful night, as Jamie joins forces at the station with crooks and officers to fight off a motley crew of bloodthirsty brutes.
Stewart Sparke’s How to Kill Monsters is a genre busting exploration into monstrous frights as the film takes on a slew of creatures, fanged beasts, and evil mogwai-like savages. Combine this with the throwback vibes to classic 1980s horror that we all know and love (Gremlins, The Thing and Evil Dead 2 to name a few), How to Kill Monsters is a bona-fide must-see for any thrill seeker desperate for a bloodied, hilarious dash of monster madness.
Taking centre stage is the immense practical effects that would make the likes of Tom Savini proud as each and every inch of the lovecraft-esque creatures are made with old school tender, love and carnage as Sparke utilises specially crafted miniatures and meticulously crafted puppetry to bring the entire film to life.
Complimenting the immersive visuals is the fantastic performances from all, with each character adding an individual flair to the story. Special praise has to be applied to the one and only Jamie Lancaster, played by Britain’s own scream queen, Lyndsey Craine. Sparke and Craine have been collaborating for years, with a particular mention owed to the award winning splatter fest, Book of Monsters(2018). With the duo growing together as creative minds over the years, How to Kill Monsters is a bespoke feature with story beats that feels incredibly natural and despite the fanasticallity.
Seconding the warmth that the film emits is the quick witted self-reflexivity that runs concurrently with the narrative. Each scene is basked in laugh out loud meta-humour that makes for an entertaining ride from start to finish, with the jokes-a-minute approach giving the likes of Scream, The Cabin in the Woods and Return to Horror High a run for their money.
How to Kill Monsters is a must-see tale of the unexpected, with every act bashing apart any form of predictability, ultimately making for one hell of a gnarly ride!
Check out the full festival programme and get your tickets here!!
Clever and socially provocative, Talk to Me is the horror breakout of not only the summer but the year. It centres around grief stricken teenager Mia (Sophie Wilde) who, along with a group of high school friends, experiments with an embalmed hand that possesses the special ability to connect with the dead and allows users to grant spirits permission to enter their bodies.
This innovative picture comes from the minds of Australian filmmakers Danny and Michael Philippou known primarily for their pioneering Youtube content on their channel RackaRacka. Talk to Me premiered at Sundance Film Festival and was rightfully an instant hit with audiences and film companies alike; the movie was picked up by infamous production and distribution company A24. Not only does Talk to Me provide a haunting yet beautiful viewing experience, it dives into the importance of identity and tackles the idea of how a horror movie would play out in the modern, digital age.
The film’s directors have spoken about how Talk to Me explores the theme of connection and how Mia, shrouded in grief from the recent loss of her mother, is yearning for a connection to anyone or anything that will make her feel something (Fandango, 2023). Though what stood out to me the most was Mia’s connection to herself; her sense of identity. As aforementioned, Mia is struggling to cope with the passing of her mother and the consequential grief that has begun to consume her. As a result we realise that a part of Mia has died along with her mother, leaving a gaping hole in her sense of self that she is desperate to fill. Enter the embalmed hand which allows one’s body and soul to be consumed by a relentless cycle of spirits.
This addictive activity works on two levels to fill the void left by Mia’s mother. Firstly, the euphoric feeling of being possessed functions like a drug, providing her with temporary relief from the hopelessness and loss that currently defines her. Secondly, the act of allowing a spirit to physically force itself inside her shows Mia’s desperation to find an identity again, even if it is not her own. Talk to Me follows Mia on her distorted and somewhat futile journey to find herself again and warns that altering your reality – using drugs or possession – cannot change the circumstances under which your identity was broken in the first place.
(ScreenRant, 2023)
Elaborating on the subject of reality, Talk to Me further examines a world in which we are perceived and scrutinised through a digital eye. We are introduced to the hand via a snapchat story in which a girl is clearly suffering at the hands of whichever spirit is coursing through her. When the camera draws back we see her distress illuminated by the light of several phone cameras, eager to document her torment. Furthermore at all the parties hosted by Joss (Chris Alosio) and Hayley (Zoe Terakes) – the current owners of the hand – every possession is filmed and made public.
This highlights the significance social media has on an individual’s reputation as, a humiliating experience with the hand would obviously bring with it an embarrassing reputation, later exhibited when Daniel (Otis Dhanji) has a turn with the hand. The film encourages viewers to realise the importance society places on a social media presence and a digital reputation; this generation is so immunised to the pain and suffering of others that they will happily record and publicise it if it promises a positive online reaction for themselves. It is only when Mia requests they use the hand outside the presence of phones and social media that the focus shifts from creating thrills and a viral video to Mia’s dependency on possession in order to feel whole again.
(BlackGirlNerds, 2023)
Talk to Me not only blurs the lines between the real world and the digital one but as the story develops we see Mia’s reality and the spirit world begin to intertwine. In between Mia’s innumerable possessions she begins to encounter spirits outside the use of the hand. Specifically she starts to see her mother who makes her question what is right and wrong and encourages her to inch further away from her own sanity.
Mia is presented with a morally impossible decision in order to save her friend with the manipulative spirit of her mother looming over her shoulder, trying to force her decision. The climax of Talk to Me is beautifully twisted as it portrays a loving mother-daughter relationship ripped apart by death and warped by grief. Here the Philippou brothers stunningly capture the fragility of the human mind and how the death of a loved one can cause our tether to reality to unravel.
Talk to Me exhibits all the shock and exhilaration ever present in Danny and Michael Philippou’s work and presents a unique ability to portray dark, mature and malevolent themes in a heartfelt and delicate way. The film emphasises a modern society’s dependence on a sense of identity established through our connections to one another and governed by how we present ourselves online.
Talk to Me sheds light on the fact that we are all one emotionally wrenching experience away from losing our grip on reality and severing all ties from our own sense of self.
Our student write Hayley is back with a review of Beau is Afraid.
Beau is Afraid is the 3rd feature length film directed by Ari Aster (Hereditary, Midsommar) It stars Joaquin Phoenix as Beau who is trying to get back to his mother’s funeral. To go into more of the plot would take away from the experience of watching the film. Its definitely the most bonkers film I have seen but in the best way possible. Aster has created a psychedelic, psychological, horror comedy that stays with you long after you leave the cinema. Mainly as you will be asking what the hell just happened. I can see it being a film you will need to watch more and more to see all the little details.
Beau is Afraid feels very different to Aster’s other work. It doesn’t have a cult/folk feel to it. I’m excited to see where he goes from here, whether that be exploring horror or other genres.
Beau Is Afraid feels like something between a person’s fever dream and a breakdown due to grief. These themes change throughout the film, it definitely keeps you on your toes. No matter how many times the themes change throughout, there is a level of care and passion throughout that can be felt. Aster has created a world that has no limits to the imagination.
The standout performance for me was of course Joaquin Phoenix himself. He makes you sympathise with Beau and want to follow his journey. All you want for him is to get back home. The people he meets along the way feel like villains from other horror masterpieces. Such as Nathan Lane in an almost Misery kind of tale. This is his first foray into horror and I hope it isn’t his last.
The visuals on screen are just wow!! You get taken away to different places through Beau’s imagination. To me that’s where the horror comes from. Aster has taken the format that what we see in our minds is always scarier than what we see on screen. Seeing the different places Beau goes to in his mind and how they play out is a great way of showing horror in a very subtle way. You’re never quite sure what’s gonna happen or see next. The ending comes out of nowhere but to be honest I wouldn’t expect anything less from Aster. Being nearly 3 hours long it does have slow moments, but never feels like a slog or a chore to get through. Sitting in the cinema it felt like no time had passed. It was a film I had been desperately waiting for, for a couple of years. I wasn’t disappointed at all. If anything I’d say it was better than I was expecting. it’s definitely a film going in knowing as little as possible and expecting the unexpected.
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