HIGHWAY TO HELL aka ELDORADO (2012)

(ELDORADO has since been re-packaged and re-released as: HIGHWAY TO HELL with a shorter running time of 92mins.)

Eldorado’s DVD packaging states that it has a running time of ‘158 mins approx’. Mercifully this is a typo (it’s actually 1 hour and 58 minutes). This is still, however, an inordinately lengthy time span for a film straining with every sinew to be a cult Blues Brothers musical road movie with a smattering of Texan cannibal splattering. In fact, it strains so hard it even features Buster Bloodvessel (sorry). So after all that straining what has writer producer and director Richard Driscoll actually achieved? Well, surprisingly not quite the cinematic turd you’d expect (although it comes perilously close at times). In fact, rather tellingly, ‘Eldorado’ plays better on second viewing – perhaps here lie the seeds of potential cult-status...

So where to start? How about a quote from the ‘Narrator’ played by Peter O’Toole: “For one reason or another, the motion picture you are about to watch is not very clear, in parts. As a matter of fact it was made to demonstrate how not to make a motion picture and at the same time win an academy award.” (It certainly ticks one of those boxes). Mr O’Toole pops up from time to time in the corner of the screen trying to make sense of the plot for the viewer. However, his opinion as to the possibility of actually achieving this is: “fat chance.” 

THE CABIN IN THE WOODS (2011)

Let’s cut to the chase: was the hype and expectation justified? On the whole, I would have to answer in the affirmative. This is a hugely delicious piece of entertainment which takes the staple conventions of the horror film as its starting point and arrives 105 minutes later in an all together different place.

Writing a detailed review of this film without dropping major spoiler bombs is as tricky as stepping though a minefield blindfolded at midnight. I can however confirm that five archetypal teenagers set out to spend a weekend in a spooky cabin in the woods. Events unfold which culminate in the experience being significantly less than pleasant (surprise surprise). So far so cliché I hear you mutter under your breath. However, (and this however cannot be stressed enough), all is most certainly not as it seems. If you’ve seen the trailer, (and I’d urge you NOT TO if you’ve managed to avoid it till now as it reveals far too much – although by no means all), then you’ll have a basic idea of the initial premise. If not, then you are in for even more of a treat...

Co-written by Joss (Buffy) Whedon and Drew (Cloverfield) Goddard, this film is arguably worth recommending to non-horror fans that purposely avoid the genre due to its tired repetitive clichéd plotting and often groan inducing idiotic protagonists. Don’t get me wrong, all these elements are present and correct – but they are merely the blueprints from which the real pleasure is derived. The film contains a generous sprinkling of laugh-out-loud nuggets of dialogue, with stoner’ teen Marty, played superbly by Fran Kranz, raking up a fair few on his own. However, the teens don’t have all the fun, and both seasoned pros Richard Jenkins and Bradley Whitford provide plenty of gallows humour themselves.

Director Drew Goddard gives the audience several ‘stinger’ jump moments - to be expected in any half-decent horror flick - however I’ve never jumped at the opening title credit before! This signals almost straight away that this is not going to be your average teens in woods in skimpy clothes in peril formulaic romp. The gore quotient is very high in key scenes, with a mixture of physical and CGI, the latter of which isn’t too impressive at times, but the sheer level of invention on the screen carries them along.

The term ‘ground-breaking’ is used far too lightly these days, but in this case I feel it’s justified. If ‘Scream’ changed the way we view slasher films , then ‘The Cabin In The Woods’ changes the way all horror films are viewed.

****(out of 5*)

Paul Worts

This review was originally published by Contains Moderate Peril on 11th March 2012.

Rain drops on roses and GHOULIES & TRANCERS

Right dear reader, let us not delay, I hope you’ve had a good dose of caffeine today as we’re going to visit a lonely goat – high on a hill.

The first full-length film I can recall seeing in the cinema was Robert Wise’s ‘The Sound of Music’. Obviously this was a re-run (it was made in 1965, three years before I was born) so I estimate it is around 1974 when I first got to see Julie Andrews’ yodelayheehooing nun on the run. The glorious Dominion Tottenham Court Road (sadly now a theatre) provided the splendidly grandiose auditorium in which my mother, father and I watched from high up in the circle.  In glorious 70mm, the widescreen canvas below us unfolded a dazzlingly barmy musical romp with Nazi’s trying to trample all over Austria’s edelweiss whilst Maria melodiously conjures up creative culinary suggestions such as schnitzel with noodle: for close on three hours. The programmer at the Dominion back then must have been some kind of sadist because he’d even included a short film preceding this malarkey – as if the programme wasn’t long enough already! The short film was something about Loch Ness and I recall very little about this long-lost gem, except for a brief cartoon shot of Nessie’s head rising above the waters. Clearly the film left an impression on me (‘The Sound of Music’ that is) or at least the music, as the first album I ever purchased happened to be the original soundtrack. We didn’t have a proper stereo back then, only a cassette player, but I played that album continuously until the tape unspooled and reduced ‘So Long, Farewell’ to a disturbing satanic-like drool one day. You know what? I think Jerry Goldsmith really missed a trick when he sat down to compose his symphony for Satan for ‘The Omen’. Don’t get me wrong, Jerry’s score was masterful – but 20^th Century Fox could have saved a small fortune on the choir and orchestra’s fees if Jerry had just played them back Julie Andrews’ dulcet tones at half-speed (copyright permitting).

But I digress... 

The Dominion provided me and my father with our first real taste of Dolby stereo when we went to see ‘Star Wars’. For any younger readers who may have inadvertently strayed onto this blog, by ‘Star Wars’ I mean ‘Star Wars: Episode IV - A New Hope’, made in 1977, with real models, real sets, (and real actors). My dad (who probably snoozed through most of the films I chose to see) was waxing lyrical about how it sounded like the ‘spaceships’ were coming from right behind him – and clearly keeping him awake (!). He was to get another auditory revelation soon after at the Odeon Marble Arch when the opening crescendo from Steven Spielberg’s ‘Close Encounters of the Third Kind’  exploded from the rear speakers and both dad and I (and probably half the stalls in truth) flew out of our seats in unison. I didn’t see that many films at the Dominion (I probably saw more concerts there in the 80’s), but I do recall the very last two films I saw there. A terrific double-bill of B-movie 80’s schlock: ‘Trancers’ & ‘Ghoulies’. From Rodgers and Hammerstein to Charles Band – from singing nuns to toilet dwelling goblins – these, dear reader, are a few of my favourite things...

Sardines, penguins and bogeys – oh my!

It’s been quite a while hasn’t it dear reader? Firstly, I really must apologise, I did rather go on somewhat about last year’s FrightFest didn’t I? And then, on top of that, I’ve been more or less firmly ensconced on the sofa for the past month utilising my Blockbuster ‘Golden Ticket’. This special offer entitled me to rent thirty DVDs or blu rays in thirty days (sounds positively Jules Verne like doesn’t it?) Well, I didn’t quite manage to watch one every day – I got through twenty-one in fact – but I hope this goes some way toward explaining my recent hibernation. I’ll share my thoughts on a few of my rentals as we go along; I do hope you won’t mind? But, seeing as it’s been a while since we last ventured out to the cinemas of my past, let me treat you to a bit of style; let’s leave Victoria behind us and venture into the West End.

(Judging from the film line-up this image is from 1984)

I can see you’re disappointed, but don’t be. I’ve not dragged you up to the West End (that’s the West End circa mid-70’s) just so we can cram ourselves into one of the four pokey little screens here at the Cinecenta in Panton Street. I just thought that as we are walking past the place I’d share a fragment of a memory from 1976. I was in one of the auditoriums at the Cinecenta with my father. We were probably about to watch ‘Raid on Entebbe’, that child-pleasing heart-warming cuddly family film based on the true story of an Israeli commando assault on Entebbe airport in Uganda to free hostages of a terrorist hijacking. I suspect this was my father’s choice. Anyway, I cannot recall any of this particular film's (undoubted) highlights, but what did stick in my memory that day, and has remained firmly wedged in my subconscious like a piece of wet bubble-gum ever since,  was a trailer for a forthcoming attraction which preceded it.  I can’t even remember the whole trailer, just this: a goldfish bowl falls in slow motion having been dropped from an upstairs banister, and smashes on impact as it hits the marble floor below, scattering the fishes. No prizes for guessing the film: ‘The Omen’, but isn’t it interesting that they felt it appropriate to advertise this satanic Grand Guignol shocker before an ‘A’ certificate film back then? Then again, if my father thought ‘Raid on Entebbe’ was appropriate entertainment for an eight-year old... Perhaps the trailer was one of subtlety and all we were actually shown was that one powerfully shocking senseless waste of aquatic life. Actually, I must point out that according to IMDB, dead sardines painted orange were used instead of live goldfish for the scene (although a real priest was used during the impaling of Patrick Troughton’s Father Brennan on a church spike).

And now, let me tell you about the first three rentals from my Golden Ticket month.

Mr Popper’s Penguins (2011)

A previously partaken but still perfectly passable piece of popcorn pleasantry, Mr Popper and his penguins still raised a smile when revisiting it on home viewing. Jim Carey partially reins in his usual over-the-top clowning and elastic face gurning and his performance is all the better for it. He does raise a couple of genuine laughs along the way but rather wisely leaves the majority of the comedy to the adorable penguins. The plot is standard family fare, but the young leads are far less annoying than one can reasonably expect in formula film-making of this kind, and Angela Lansbury is, as always, good-value and immensely watchable.

Horrid Henry: The Movie (2011)

It pains me to say this as I generally appreciate and enjoy films which appeal to the younger audience (I’m a big kid at heart). However, I would struggle to find anything remotely recommendable about ‘Horrid Henry’ for an adult. It is rare for me to watch a film and feel so disconnected from the material from start to finish (apart from the Twilight saga of course). The irony is this rental was my choice – my 6 year old daughter was completely disinterested when I took the case up to the counter. Having had to practically bribe her into watching it with me on the sofa she sat completely enthralled from start to finish (as I thought she would) and bestowed it with a “10 out of 10” score when it had finished. Angelica Houston, together with a fine ensemble of British comedy talent (and Richard E. Grant), is criminally wasted as Henry (who, on this outing at least, didn’t appear nearly horrid enough for my taste), progresses from flicking bogies to saving his school in 90 tediously uninspired minutes.  I’m just thankful I didn’t waste good money taking my daughter to see this in 3D in the cinema. Is this the moment when the transformation from young-at-heart open-minded daddy into old baggy-eyed Barry Norman begins? I do so hope not, and on that note I would just like to state for the record that this film can boast without question or indeed any fear of contradiction whatsoever – the singularly most realistic bogey ever shown on screen.  

Stake Land (2010)

‘Zombieland’ without the laughs (except the zombies are actually vampire-zombie hybrids or something).  Actually despite my apparent dismissive glibness ‘Stake Land’ is a superbly crafted, sombre post-apocalyptic road-movie with art-house sensibilities. The tone is perfectly judged and the minimalist dialogue coupled with the evocative deserted widescreen landscapes convey a convincing bleakness to the proceedings.

Right, well I guess are trip will have to be continued next time.

But as we leave the Cinecenta I must just point out that unlike most of the cinemas I will recall in these blogs, this particular one is still standing and is very much still functioning as a cinema. It’s now owned by the Odeon chain, but at one time or another it was owned by Star Cinemas, Classic Cinemas, Cannon, MGM, and ABC. It was also Europe’s first four-in-one cinema and it’s been projecting flickering images onto its four silver screens (on and off) since 12^th January 1969. [Nowadays it goes by the name of the Odeon Luxe Haymarket.]   

Oh yes, and I’ve just remembered, if you do happen to attend this cinema, please try not to stand up during the film. I recall patrons blocking the projection beam with their heads during a screening of ‘Jackknife’ (1989) with Robert De Niro. (I mean Robert De Niro was in the film – not sitting with me or blocking the screen you understand).

  

Zombie Wicker Women - (FrightFest 2011 Part 4 in 3D)

Ladies and gentlemen, the first few lines of this blog are in 2D – however you will still need your 3D glasses...

It’s a fine crisp Saturday morning as yours truly strolls with some purpose and several egg McMuffins in his stomach toward the Empire cinema for the third and final day (for this young(ish) handsome (*cough*) attendee at least) of FrightFest 2011. I am scheduled to go troll hunting at 11am. 

A Quantum (Leap) of Solace - (FrightFest 2011 Part 3)

Warning: Once again, this blog contains explicit name-dropping. Those of a nervous celebrity disposition are advised to read the following with extreme caution...

FrightFest Day 2 (Friday).

I finally succumb to Twitter and get myself an account. I’m persuaded by the promise that a selection of fellow FrightFester's tweets will be projected onto the Empire’s screen between films. (Like that ever happened). I peruse through some of the suggestions for celebrities to follow (on Twitter you understand, not literally – I haven’t resorted to actual stalking – at least not yet). Amongst the obvious suspects I initially select; Stephen Fry, Sarah Silverman, William Shatner etc, etc, there is Jonathan Ross, or @wossy if you prefer.  Anyways, I choose to follow Mr Ross and his morning tweet pops up:

“Good morning. It’s unpleasant weather in London. I am glad I’m not a fox”

Without a moment’s thought I reply:

“@wossy You should get yourself down to FrightFest sir. Weather proof fun!”   

And think no more of it. Then shortly after, I receive a notification on my iphone: “jonathan ross (@wossy) replied to one of your Tweets!”

“we are going tonight!!”

I’m stunned. Me, a novice at this Twittering lark and here I am bantering with Jonathan Ross (ok, so one tweet doesn’t exactly constitute ‘bantering’, but be fair, it’s still a fine start to my Tweeting career).

The first film on that damp and overcast Friday morning was about to start (‘Rogue River’) so like all good FrightFesters I switched off my phone and proceeded into the auditorium for the first of my frightful films...

At this point I should mention that if you are curious as to what my thoughts were on the films I saw (and yes, I did actually spend most of the 3 days watching films – not stalking celebrities – honest), I will post my mini-reviews in a future blog.

But for now you re-join me dear reader some 4 films later in the day. It’s shortly before 7pm and yours truly is mingling with intent once more in the Empire’s busy foyer. And then I spot him, my old Twitter buddy Jonathan Ross, making his way through the foyer! Quick as a flash I intercept @wossy and introduce myself as the guy who twittered him this morning about FrightFest. Half-expecting a blank response at best, or perhaps at worst a two-word reply beginning with the letter ‘f’ I’m genuinely surprised when he says “I know, and I tweeted you back!” This most certainly warrants a photo, and Jonathan duly obliges. Huzzah!      

Twitter ye not - it's @rossy!

  Now Jonathan must be here to watch the world premiere of ‘The Glass Man’ starring the very wonderful Andy Nyman. Andy is already giving interviews for the press in the foyer but I am distracted by a flurry of activity out of the corner of my eye. This flurry consists of none other than Scott (‘Quantum Leap’, ‘Lord of Illusions’, and ‘Enterprise’) Bakula. It’s too hustley and bustley to begin to manoeuvre my way over to him, in fact it would have taken (wait for it) a quantum leap to get to him (stop you hysterical fool my sides are just splitting I hear you cry!). So let’s instead jump-cut to the end of ‘The Glass Man’. Amid much applause the wonderful Andy Nyman, sorry the very wonderful Andy Nyman, takes to the stage in front of the vast Empire screen and proceeds in his humble and unassuming way to undertake a Q and A with the audience. Being a great admirer of Mr Nyman naturally I am keen to hear what he has to say about his remarkable performance. But then again Scott Bakula’s in the audience so like a bat out of hell I shoot out of my seat and charge toward the foyer (Fickle – me? I really have no idea what you mean...).

No sign of Bakula.

I can only conclude he must have left his seat in the circle before the end credits in order to avoid fans and autograph hunters descending on him. I have every sympathy for the poor chap – they can be awfully persistent and intrusive you know. So I return to the wonderfully cavernous Empire 1 where the very wonderful Andy Nyman is in mid flow waxing lyrical about the role and...well I’ll just take one more look out in the foyer because you never know and fortune favours the brave and all that...

Still no sign of Bakula.

Scott Bakula (oh ye of little faith)

The snidely ungrateful blighter has scarpered. Not a thought for either his fans or those patient unassuming autograph hunters. I’m still fuming as I make my way back (yet again) into Screen 1 and as I see the very wonderful Andy Nyman is now signing autographs at the front of the stalls (see Mr Bakula – that’s a sign of real class) I produce my little autograph book and Sharpie pen, check my camera, and walk straight into Scott Bakula.

A photo is duly taken, and I attempt to make my way toward the front of the auditorium when I am forced yet again to stop in my tracks and have a photo taken with Saul (‘Warehouse 13’ and so much more) Rubinek. I tell you it was a nightmare. And then it dawns on me that Andy and Scott are both about to perform in Saul’s play ‘Terrible Advice’ here is London, it all fits. Right, Andy Nyman, no more interruptions. Well, only one, Don Warrington (or as I remember him, Philip from ‘Rising Damp’) smile please! Right, finally, I present the (and I honestly do mean this) very wonderful Andy Nyman with my as yet unused autograph book and ask him if he would kindly be the first to sign it. He seems genuinely touched, and as we exchange pleasantries the by now inevitable photo is duly taken.  

Andy Nyman (VERY wonderful)

Then I grab both Scott Bakula’s and Saul Rubinek’s autographs (both very amenable I might add) and consider the evening to have been a roaring success!

To be continued...        

Yes Prime Minister - I'm off to Frightfest! (FrightFest 2011 Part 2).

WARNING: this particular entry contains frequent and explicit examples of name-dropping. If you are easily offended by shameless gratuitous references to celebs (albeit mostly from the horror genre) then please read on at your own discretion knowing you have been duly warned...

Alastair McGowan (not a Mexican Director / Producer)

So, having failed miserably to acquire Diana Rigg’s autograph (last blog entry dear reader, do try and keep up), and having spent far too long hobnobbing with Alastair McGowan I trudged back to my hotel on Leicester Square. On route I completely ignore that fine English thespian Simon Williams, currently playing Sir Humphrey Appleby in Yes, Prime Minister in the West End, who passes me by not once but twice, by the theatre, clearly hoping I will whip out my autograph book and Sharpie and offer them to him. But what Mr Williams doesn’t realise is, this little autograph book of mine is brand new and is yet to garner a single paw print from anyone. And, (no offence Simon) but I wanted my little sky-blue book’s first time to be with someone a bit, well, special. Thinking about it though, Simon might very well have been waiting for Ms Rigg rather than hoping to be recognised, in which case I’m very sorry I didn’t approach you Mr Williams, and I sincerely hope Alastair McGowan didn’t keep you too long (he does go on a bit).

Ditching the unsigned stills of Ms. Rigg from ‘Theatre of Blood’ back at the hotel I proceed with purpose and renewed optimism around the perimeter of the building site that is currently Leicester Square toward the Empire Cinema, home to FrightFest for the next five days. My agenda is simple: to watch fifteen horror films in the next three days and nights; and to get my photo taken with as many celebs as possible along the way. Tonight Matthew I will be a celeb stalking tart. Now when I say celebs I mean primarily people of some note within the horror genre itself, but of course anyone remotely recognisable from further afield will also gain my polite and courteous attention.

Joe Lynch - sober(ish)

Upon entering the grand foyer of the Empire I immediately hone in on my first two targets, both of which are pre-planned (on my part that is not on theirs) They are the very amenable and very approachable young American directors Mr Joe Lynch and Mr Adam Green. Both are regulars at FrightFest and have become an integral part of the proceedings with their jolly japes and bawdy across-the-pond humorous quips – oh they really are quite special. Joe happily signs my DVD cover of ‘Wrong Turn 2: Dead End’ with the touchingly sweet phrase: ‘Three-finger loves you ‘and whilst posing with me for a photo I pay this fine filmmaker due respect and deference and explain I’m getting his autograph now whilst he’s still sober and his handwriting is vaguely legible (He concurs wholeheartedly with my strategy).  

Adam Green, the director of such chuckle some cinematic capers as: ‘Hatchet’ and its startlingly original titled sequel: ‘Hatchet 2’ is presented with a DVD cover from ‘Hatchet’ for scribblation for which he very kindly inscribes: ‘Victor Crowley lives’ and convivially acquiesces to a photographic commemoration with yours truly of this momentous occasion. Huzzah! Two autos in the bag before the Fest has even started!

Mr Adam Green - jolly chap.

Now my keen Spidey-sense is scanning the foyer for my next rendezvous; a outstandinglycreative visionary Mexican director / producer who to date has given us such extraordinary works as ‘Cronos’, ‘The Devil’s Backbone’ and ‘Pan’s Labyrinth’ and well I could go on, but seeing as the bugger didn’t show up I won’t waste any more words on this clearly overrated upstart.

Neil Marshall, director of the ferociously fabulous werewolf flick ‘Dog Soldiers’ and ‘The Descent’ (the scariest film about potholing ever) appears in my line of vision, but he’s deep in conversation with his other half, and as I grabbed him for a photo last year I turn instead toward the entrance to Screen 1 and the first film of FrightFest 2011; ‘Don’t Be Afraid of the Dark’ (produced by some relatively unknown Mexican bloke...)   

To be continued...