Review : Spiders (2013)

Its not every day that I come across a giant bug movie I find it hard to get behind, man. Give me some radiated insect, some hot and sultry scientist gal, some military hi-jinx and some city/town-wide destruction, and I'm popping smiles left and right, but somehow, this months SPIDERS failed to do it for me, in any way whatsoever. Let me attempt to pinpoint the reasons why, and maybe save you a buck or ten...

First off...the plot.

SPIDERS is your typical 'space insects hurtle towards earth on a shuttle-fragment and once here presume to grow faster than Russell Crowe's beer-gut' scenario. We've been here a million times before, and lets be honest, we don't give a good shit how the giant spiders get here, just as long as when they DO get here, they fuck shit up like the MC5 circa '69. Plots, characters, acting and drama almost always get a pass in these b-movies. They get by on charm, playfulness and yes, big-ass bugs eating hapless extras. Its not much to ask. Occasionally we'll get a serious take on this thing, (MIMIC comes immediately to mind), and some of them are even stone-cold classics, (THEM! still ranks as the big daddy of the giant creep-crawly flicks, and TREMORS resides among the all-time greats like a boss), but for the most part they're simply throwaway fun. Shamelessly made and slightly shaming to watch and enjoy. Not that such confliction of standards will stop us hungry horror fans...

So, as a bug-movie enthusiast, and a well-known chronic arachnophobe, I jumped into SPIDERS with a mix of apprehension and boyish glee. A big bug bonanza made for the big screen sounded like just the ticket, man. Well you know what? It wasn't.

The show starts off pretty strong, with a cool opening shot of some space-spiders scuttling amidst the corpses of a derelict space-hub, (is that what we're calling these things? I have no fucking clue...I'm not a scientist), that pans through the devastation wrought by the little eight-legged bastards, and out into open space, where we see some random meteors smash the 'hub' to shit. This, of course, sends our little buddies on a one-way trip to New York, (obviously), where they crash into the subway, set up home, and begin to grow at 'AN ALARMING RATE!!!!!!'. The usual...so far, so good. No complaints.

Review : Brian Keene's Ghoul (2012)

In a year of vast disappointments none has cut so deep as this long-awaited adaptation of one of Brian Keene's most beloved and admired novels...GHOUL.

Keene is something of a legend in my world. Of all the genre writers out there today; Keene is the true heir to the throne left heartrendingly empty with the shock death of Richard Laymon, (many years later and it still stings like hell). Its no secret that Keene was something of a Laymon fanatic himself, and it shines through much of his work, (his novel CASTAWAYS was an ode to the great mans work, especially the Beast House/Malcasa Point trilogy), but Keene quickly found his own voice in the over-saturated world of horror lit, and managed very quickly to rise to the top of the heap alongside Edward Lee, Bentley Little, Jack Ketchum and a few select others, as a truly ferocious writer with a singular vision of what his brand of horror would be. His books are nothing short of fantastic. All of them. He's broken new ground in the zombie genre with THE RISING and its sequel, CITY OF THE DEAD, he's upped the stakes in terms of sheer viscera with URBAN GOTHIC, and has deftly combined eroticism and fear in DARK HOLLOW. He's given us Earthworm God's, Satyrs, shape-shifters, mermaids and more, and he's done it all with a writing style thats as free-flowing and effortless as any before or since. The mans a fucking genius.

And for many of his substantial fan-base, his 80's set coming-of-age tale, GHOUL, is his most accomplished and emotionally resonant work. Shit, the man himself has stated that its his most personal and autobiographical tale so far....

It shows....GHOUL tells the tale of three young boys as they teeter on the cusp of adulthood during the mid-eighties. As people begin dissapearing in their small town, they come to suspect that something ancient and evil is living underneath the local cemetery, where they just happen to spend their summers...

Horror Hotel Cinema : The Giant Claw (1957)

'It looked like a Battleship!!!!'

No, dear, it didn't. At all...

Heres a challenge for you guys....

While watching THE GIANT CLAW, fire back a shot of Scotch (or any other spirit of your choice. I aint fussy), every time someone in the movie refers to the huge-ass monster birdie as being/looking/acting like 'a Battleship'....

I guarantee by the end of the film you'll either be in hospital for alcohol poisoning, dead, or signing up for the twelve steps to addiction recovery and finding Jesus.

How anyone could refer to this big ugly flying bastard of the skies as a 'Battleship' is beyond me. No amount of self medication could ever reshape this monstrosity to look like a damned boat. I dont care how much acid you ingest before viewing.

Theres a good chance that the writers pulled that description out their collective asses on seeing the design of the beast. Its among the most ridiculous, demented looking creatures ever to grace the silver screen, folks.

Any brits our there who remember Emu, the much despised kids character from the 80's will feel a familiar sense of foreboding on viewing this monstrosity. Is it the crappiest beast of all time? Maybe. You'll be hard pressed to find a stranger creation anyplace, anytime, ever.

Just watch it already, and keep telling yourself....its only a movie, only a movie, ONLY A MOVIE!!!!!!

Review : The Devil Inside (2012)

Time can literally stand still...

Suffering through 'found-footage' fuck-up fest, THE DEVIL INSIDE is like vacationing in the abyss. Its an unending, mindbogglingly shit plummet into Satan's toilet bowl. Fit for consumption by none.

It takes a lot to get my rankle up when it comes to found footage films. It really does. I'm one of the few, ostracized souls in the horror field who actually sees great merit in the movies, (when done right, of course). Hell, the last movie I reviewed was a shaky-cam shocker, THE TROLL HUNTER, and it was deliriously engaging and entertaining. While I sometimes feel like I'll have to rename this place 'THE FUCKING FOUND FOOTAGE HOTEL', I still get a kick from these films. I'm at half mast just thinking about REC 3, I enjoyed the hell out of CLOVERFIELD and I can't bring myself to get on the vitriol wagon for the PARANORMAL ACTIVITY series, either. Its an immersive filming technique when done with panache.

THE DEVIL INSIDE is not done with panache. Nope. Not at all.

Review : The Wicker Tree (2012)

Director: Robin Hardy

Writers:

Robin Hardy (book), Robin Hardy

Stars:

Brittania Nicol, Henry Garrett and Graham McTavish

THE WICKER TREE is based on the novel, COWBOYS FOR CHRIST, written by Robin Hardy himself, and concerns itself with the misadventures of two born again God-bothers who hail from Dallas, and are sent on a mission to save the heathen hordes of my home land, Scotland, by traveling door-to-door spreading the word of God, (because we all know that shit works). On arriving, they find my countrymen to be giving of precisely zero fucks, (so proud). All seems lost till they are approached by some' Lord of the Manor' type who runs a secluded community, and advises that while his people may not be easily converted, they will at least keep an open mind to the teachings of Christ and his pals. Out dynamic duo then pack their bibles and head off to save some horny souls from eternal damnation, via terrible choir music and insufferable behavior. Thankfully, our Scottish Pagan buddies have other plans. Can you say, 'Kentucky Fried'?

I'm gonna try not to bash on this movie too much. I have every reason to. Its an absolute shambles of a film, but its so inept, so disjointed, so confused, that I actually managed to have a good time with it, despite it's significant aura of shite.

I assumed going in that if THE WICKER TREE was bullshit, I would be pissed off in a big way. I mean, its the spiritual predecessor of one of my favorite film's of all time; the profoundly disturbing, unique and intelligent THE WICKER MAN. In my mind, this thing had a huge shadow cast over it from inception to birth. If it pissed all over the legacy of Robin Hardy's previous masterpiece, (he wrote and directed that classic work), my hatred would be unbound, thought I.

Review : Rosewood Lane (2011)

Director:

Victor Salva

Writer:

Victor Salva

Stars:

Rose McGowan, Lauren Vélez and Ray Wise

When radio talk show psychiatrist, Dr. Sonny Blake, moves back to her hometown, she takes notice of her neighbourhood paper boy's unusual behaviour. She soon comes to realise the little bastard could be very dangerous, as he launches a campaign of terror against her...

I liked some of Victor Salva's output. I really did.....

I thought that CLOWNHOUSE was a really well made and genuinely frightening look at childhood fears, and I enjoyed JEEPERS CREEPERS' approach to old school monster-movie making. The guy was a good thing to have around in the genre. Sure JEEPERS CREEPERS 2 left a lot to be desired, but it was watchable, and its flaws weren't enough to quell my thirst for a third film.

Then I learnt all about Salva's unfortunate past...
 
Now, I understand that art and its creator often need to be separated, especially in my line of work, but Salva's abuse of young boys left a particularly sour taste in my mouth, especially as his more 'unsavoury' compulsions seem to infuse his films more often than not. For one thing, the young star of CLOWNHOUSE was being systematically abused during filming, and its impossible to watch it now and not feel heartbroken for the suffering that poor kid went through. Not to mention the fact that half the fucking film has half naked preteen boys running around. And how about JEEPERS CREEPERS? A predator that wants a part of a young boy, even going so far as to sniff his goddamn underwear. Or how about its sequel, in which we have to suffer through high-school boys having pissing contests while scantily dressed. I'm sorry kids, but that shit just doesn't sit right with me. How it sits with you, is your own issue.

Review : Don't Go in the Woods (2010)

Director:

Vincent D'Onofrio

Writers:

Vincent D'Onofrio (story), Sam Bisbee (screenplay), and 1 more credit »

Stars:

Bo Boddie, Eric Bogosian and Gwynn Galitzer

A young band heads to the woods in order to focus on writing new songs. Hoping to emerge with new music that will score them their big break, they instead find themselves in the middle of a nightmare beyond comprehension.

When I finally shuffle off this mortal coil and make my inevitable descent into Lucifer's Grill-house, I won't be facing any surprises. I already know whats waiting for me down there....

Religious zealots, (yeah, your going down, too), Musicals and Emo music, on endless repeat, forever.....

Each and any of these curses would be terrible enough, so I can only imagine the sheer unrelenting horror that awaits my sinning soul, as I spend untold endless days drinking weak-ass tea with insufferably bland ass-clowns, only to find that the only source of entertainment I'll get to share with these blowhards is the dreaded 'Musical'. In my mind, there has never been a more nonsensical form of cinema than the musical. I just can't fathom the fucking things. Now, arguably, OH BROTHER, WHERE ART THOU? could be called a musical, but I'm not having it. To me, that's like saying RAY or WALK THE LINE are musicals, they ain't.

A musical, to me, is one of those insufferable films in which you (occasionally) find yourself caught up in the story, only to have the cast burst into fucking song for no sane reason, (often about doing the dishes, growing stronger, a broken heart, the circle of life, or some other silly shit that ruins the flow of the narrative and bores me to goddamn tears); I hate the damn things.

Review : Little Deaths (2011)

 

Directors:

Sean Hogan, Andrew Parkinson,

Writers:

Andrew Parkinson, Simon Rumley, 

Stars:

Scott Ainslie, Mike Anfield and James Anniballi

Sometimes I feel like I'm from a different planet, friendo's. If anyone knows directions to Earth, draw me a fucking map, will ya?!

I had read nothing but good things about LITTLE DEATHS, and had even been recommended it by a very close, very drunk and very enthusiastic friend. Most of the more established Horror websites have proclaimed it a worthy addition to the much beloved 'Horror-Anthology' sub-genre. Some have claimed it has depth, style, great acting, satisfying stories and its fair share of gore-filled set pieces.

Well, I'm not buying any of that shit...

I love a good Horror Anthology. At least I have that in common with my peers. I mean, who doesn't love those short sharp blasts of Horror? The broadly drawn characters, the inevitable (twisted) twist in the tale, the cornucopia of well-known faces and the literal guarantee of at least two or three payoffs. They resemble nothing so much as E.C's 50's Horror comics writ large, and when done properly, they can be a hell of a lot of fun.